Winter of Angel

Two Drabbles (Angel/Fred & Angel/Xander)

Thu, 20 Mar 2008 15:42:38 GMT

Hi! It's my posting day today. I was hoping to offer six drabbles today, but I seem to have only managed two. I hope you enjoy them.

Gabrielle

Title: St. Patrick's Day

Author: Gabrielle

Characters: Angel/Fred (with hints of Angel/Doyle)

Rating: FRT/PG

Summary: There's always that one drink too many...

Word Count: 284

Feedback: Please.

Distribution: My LJ and my site only.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to Joss and a bunch of other people who are not now and have never been me.

Author's Notes: This was written for marewillow.

St. Patrick's Day

It’s St. Patrick’s Day and he’s horribly drunk - more intoxicated than he’s been since the days when he was Liam and vampires were the stuff of legend. He’s not sure how it happened, but somehow he wound up here. At home. With Fred.

She was adorably tipsy at Caritas, dancing with a sexy-awkward abandon that surprised him by turning him on. He was laughing then, having fun in that drunken, desperate way that seems so real at the time. But now Fred’s here on the couch beside him and neither one of them is laughing.

There’s always that one drink too many where merry turns to maudlin. He and Fred had that drink and then maybe one or two more. Neither of them has had the sense to pass out. Instead, they’re awake, eyes full of tears and mouths full of memories. Talking over each other and asking questions whose answers are drowned by each other’s recitations of who they miss and why they miss them.

Angel has no idea who Fred is talking about now. He’s lost in memories of Doyle. Doyle, whose shoes can never be filled, not by Wesley, not by Gunn, not by anyone. Doyle, who he hasn’t spoken of in so long he’s sure everyone thinks he’s over the loss by now. After all, shouldn’t a vampire accept the fragility of human life?

But he hasn’t accepted anything. Not when it comes to Doyle. And when Fred’s mouth stays open and he takes in the liquor-scent of her breath, it’s too much to ask of him not to kiss her, to try to hide from his loneliness in the taste of her warmth and her sweetness. So he does.

The End.

Title: Thinking is Bad

Author: Gabrielle

Characters: Angel/Xander

Rating: FRT-13/PG-13

Summary: If he thinks about this, it will have to end.

Word Count: 239

Feedback: Please.

Distribution: My LJ and my site only.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. It all belongs to Joss and a bunch of other people who are not now and have never been me.

Author's Notes: This was written for jans_intentions. It takes place in the same 'verse as This is Not an Affair, but you needn't have read that drabble to follow this one.

Thinking is Bad

Xander’s never been all that fond of thinking. With parents like his and a life like he has, too much reflection would be depressing. And what would anyone want with a depressed Xander? It’s not like he’s been kept around for his brains or his strength, after all. Nope, it’s Xander, the perpetual clown who everyone wants.

Well, not everyone. Not that a someone else doesn’t seem to want him, but that someone else doesn’t seem to find his jokes very funny. Of course, that someone doesn’t think much of his brains or strength or anything else, either. But for some reason, they do want him. And not the same way everyone else does either.

No, this someone wants him on his knees, mouth full of cock. Wants him on his back or bent over a chair or on all fours on the cold, hard floor, ready to take a cold, hard cock inside him.

It’s really a very good thing that Xander’s not big on thinking. Because thinking about this? That would be bad. After all, he’s not gay, and he doesn’t even like Angel. And Angel doesn’t like him. Why do they want each other? Xander doesn’t know. But he’s glad he’ll never think about it long enough to figure it out. Because if he did, he’d have to acknowledge that it’s happening at all. Then it would be over. And that? That would really be bad.

The End.

Ficlet: "Mistaktes" by Lena7623 (Angel and Wesley, R)

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 06:34:43 GMT

Unfortunately, I don't have an Angel icon, so I had to go with one of my Wes ones.

Title: Mistakes

Author: Lena7623

Rating: R

Word Count: 589

Characters/Pairing: Angel & Wesley

Timeline: AtS Season 3

Episode Rewrite: AtS Season 3, Episode 17 “Forgiving”

Warning: Character death.

Summary: What if Angel succeeded in what he started at the end of the episode “Forgiving?” Spoilers for up to that episode.

"This isn’t Angelus talking. It’s me, Angel.” Angel kept the calm look on his face that he had been forcing the entire time he had been in the room. He felt like he was going to explode at any minute, however. “You know that, right?”

Angel watched as Wes blinked once, the universal signal for people who can’t talk for ‘yes.’ *Blink once for yes, twice for no.*

“Good.” Angel snatched the pillow from under Wes’s head and pushed it down onto his face. He had so many things running through his head at the moment. How Wesley was going to pay for what had happened to his son. How Angel would never forgive him. There were many, many things that Angel wanted to say. Instead, he kept silent. He didn’t want anyone running in and stopping him from this.

Wesley struggled weakly, but he was already so helpless from the blood loss than it barely took a minute or so for him to stop struggling. Once Angel was sure that he was dead, he sunk down into the chair that was beside Wes’s bed. He was still holding the pillow in his hand.

It was suddenly as if Angel was hit by a brick wall of memories. Meeting Wes in the apartment in Los Angeles, with Wes all decked out in leather, trying be a ‘rouge demon hunter,’ and neither or nor Cordelia had the heart to tell him how ridiculous he actually looked. Seeing Wes tied up in the chair while Faith held the knife to his neck, and tasting the fear in the back of his throat that his friend might die. Seeing Wes in the hospital after the office blew up. Angel looking at him through the window briefly after he got shot. Wes begrudgingly forgiving him for firing all of them. Angel seeing him lead the people of Pylea in an uprising. More and more memories were popping up.

Oh God, what had he done? He had killed one of his closest friends! He had made a terrible mistake. He shouldn’t have done this. It was too rash. Wesley couldn’t have meant any harm to Connor. Angel knew how much he loved Connor. He loved Connor almost as much as Angel does. Now there was only one way to fix this.

It didn’t take much for Angel to drain the rest of the blood from Wes. The demon inside of him howled for more, but there really wasn’t much to take. It was still warm, so that gave Angel a little hope that this might work.

Angel tore his wrist open with his teeth, opened Wes’s mouth, and pressed his bleeding wrist to his lips. “Come on, Wes,” he said, feeling the tears start to fall down his face. “Please drink. I’ll do anything for you if you’ll just drink this.”

After a few moments of nothing, he started to feel a gentle pull at his wrist. He wiped his eyes with his free hand and saw Wes’s eyes flutter. Wes let out a soft moan.

“Yes, that’s good. Keep drinking it, Wes. Everything’s going to be ok.” To hell with the consequences: Angel couldn’t handle losing both his son and his friend in one night. Angel reached out to stroke his friend’s hair. He didn’t even register the manic tinge in his voice as he continued to talk to Wes while Wes continued to drink. “Everything’s going to be ok. We’ll find Connor together and we’ll fix everything. Everything’s going to be alright.”

Ficlet: Call It A Hunch by OKDeanna (Willow/Angel, PG)

Sun, 16 Mar 2008 16:08:48 GMT

Today's my last day to post for WoA so I leave you with a fluffy little ficlet...

Title: Call It A Hunch

Author: OKDeanna

Rating: PG

Word Count: 630

Characters/Pairing: Angel/Willow

Timeline: BTVS Season One

Episode Rewrite: Teacher’s Pet

Summary: What if Angel noticed Willow watching him at the Bronze during Teacher’s Pet?

Click banner for full size image

Call It A Hunch

OKDeanna

“You think he’s buff?”

Angel glanced up at the casually spoken question, his gaze immediately locking with a pair of innocent, wonder-filled green eyes. The girl smiled at him, nothing more than a shy, hesitant tilting of her lips, but it was enough to raise his curiosity of her… and his awareness.

He frowned as the dark haired boy next to her briefly touched her arm, dragging her attention away from him and toward the boy she was obviously with tonight. The kid didn’t look too happy and whatever he was whispering to the girl wasn’t making her very happy either, at least not if the irritated looks that crossed the redhead’s face meant anything.

Why couldn’t he hear what they were saying now? They couldn’t be talking that low could they?

His eyes narrowed as the girl suddenly yanked her arm out of the boy’s grip, kicking his shin with enough force to probably bruise the kid’s leg. “I can’t believe you said that, Xander Harris! Who do you think you are?”

She stomped off, visibly furious over whatever the boy told her, and judging by the scowl the boy sent his way, it had something to do with him. His frown deepened and before he realized it, he was heading in the direction the girl had gone, completely ignoring the scathing irritation of the Slayer behind him.

He caught up with the girl near the bar, ordering herself another soda, her angry tone forcing the bartender behind the bar to eye her anew and offer her a drink on the house. She turned him down, of course, reaching into her pocket to pull out a dollar bill only to drop it on the floor when he stepped up behind her, placing his own money down onto the bar.

“Drink’s on me,” he whispered softly, enjoying the way her pulse beat so erratically beneath her skin.

She shivered against him then tensed and slowly lifted her head to meet his eyes. “You… don’t have to do that.”

He smiled, reaching out to place a strand of her hair behind her right ear. “I want to,” he murmured, leaning forward to pick up her glass off the bar, handing it to her. “Least I could do for getting you into a fight with your boyfriend.”

Her eyes widened. “What? Xander isn’t… I mean, Xander’s not…” she stopped, frowning. “What makes you think we were fighting about you?”

He lifted a shoulder, still not moving back away from her. “Let’s just… call it a hunch.” Her brow furrowed but before she could question him further, someone bumped into him from behind him, forcing him closer… his mouth a hairsbreadth away from her soft, pink lips.

“Xander isn’t my boyfriend,” she replied shyly, drawing in a quick breath. “But you were right, we were fighting about you.”

He nodded, his gaze dropping to her lips. “Why? What did he say to you?”

She swallowed, hard, tears forming in her eyes. “He said I was making a fool out of myself and that you were likely only looking at me to make Buffy jealous. Was he right? Are you just trying to make Buffy jealous?”

“I’m not interested in Buffy. She’s not… really my type.”

The girl shook her head, pulling her lip between her teeth. “Who… is your type then?”

Angel lowered his head, brushing her lips softly with his own. “Well, if you want to know the truth,” he mumbled, using his tongue to force her teeth to release her lip. “I’ve always had a thing for redheads.”

He pulled back to look into her eyes. “Really?” she asked, a crimson blush stealing its way across her cheekbones.

Angel nodded, lowering his head again, whispering his reply against her lips, “Really.”

Angel's Life in Five Acts.

Thu, 13 Mar 2008 14:02:36 GMT

And here comes my second offering - although it really isn't mine at all. Let me explain:

Back when the show was still on air, one of the most brilliant people in fandom was the_royal_anna, whose post-episode posts were always spot-on and amazing. And sometimes she tried to do things a little differently...

Post-’Smile Time’ she posted this treasure, which is best described as ‘Angel’s life told in metaphor’, and unlike anything I’ve ever read elsewhere. Also full of meta!

Then, about a year ago, when I was re-reading it yet again, it struck me that it really ought to have a final act to reflect the end of the show... so I wrote it (which was horribly presumptuous of me of course, but she didn’t mind). And when pondering what to post here, it occurred to me that this is probably the most perfect thing ever for celebrating Angel - his incredible life and the journey he was on. (And thankfully Anna allowed me to post it!)

Go on - indulge! (It's not very long...)

(You can find the original post here if you want notes etc. It is well worth a look! As are all her other BtVS/AtS posts of course.)

Angel’s Life in Five Acts.

Once a boy stood on the edge of a wood, and the wood was thick with trees. But the boy did not care for trees. He saw only wood, wood that he could use to make what he wanted, and he looked about for an axe.

Beside him there was a gleam of light, and there stood a girl with golden hair.

"Where am I going?" he asked her.

"To your Destiny," she answered.

"Where's that?" he demanded.

"On the other side of the wood," she said, "Beyond the trees."

"I'll be so lost," he said.

"Here," she said, and she handed him a ball of string. "I'll hold on to my end, and I won't let go."

The boy set off through the wood, and branches lay thick across his path. He snapped them off with his bare hands, and soon his hands were gouged with scratches and splinters.

"Stupid fingers," he said.

As he walked on he felt the string start to pull against his fingers, grazing his hands still more. It pulled him onwards, try as he might to stop. It was a puppet string, and wherever it pulled, he followed.

"Stupid string," he said.

Eventually he came to a clearing, and there stood the girl with golden hair, beside a pool of silver.

"Where are we?" he asked her.

"This is the Pool of Truth," she told him.

"My hands are hurt," he said, holding them out to her.

"They're made to hurt," she said, as she took them in hers. He felt her breath wrap around his neck, and she took his head between her hands and bent his mouth towards her breast.

After a while he lifted his head, and she turned him to face the pool. "This is what you are. This is why you fight."

He looked into the pool, and he saw nothing.

"I don't understand," he said.

"That's your reflection," the girl with the golden hair told him, and she traced his face with her fingers, and he did not know which was colder, her fingers or his face. "Vampire reflection."

And the Puppetmaster's name was Pain, and the Puppet rose up and slew the Puppetmaster. "I'll take care of pain," he said. And the string wrapped around his hands.

Once a vampire stood on the edge of a wood, and the wood was thick with trees. The vampire thought to amuse himself by tearing the limbs from the tree nearest to him, but as he did so the tree shuddered so hard he felt it shake every atom in his body. And his arms grew heavy with the weight of the branches he had torn off.

Beside him there was a gleam of light, and there stood a girl with golden hair.

"Who are you?" he asked her.

"I am your Destiny," she answered, and he knew that she wanted to believe it.

"I don't have a Destiny," he said, bitterly.

"Let the Pool of Truth answer to that," she said.

"I'll be so lost," he said.

"Here," she said, softly, and she handed him a ball of string. "I'll hold on to my end, and I won't let go."

The vampire set off through the wood, and hid his face from the trees around him. He looked down at his hands, and they were covered in blood.

"Stupid fingers," he said.

He could not bear to be among the trees any longer, and he started to run, but he felt the string pull against his fingers. It was a kite string, and it would not let him loose.

"Stupid string," he said.

Eventually he came to a clearing, and there stood the girl with golden hair, beside the Pool of Truth. She held out her hands and drew him towards her.

"This is what you are," she whispered, and she kissed him. "This is why you fight."

As his fingers touched her skin he felt the blood racing through her body, and he forgot the blood on his hands. He looked into the pool, and he saw her, only her, and he wanted to believe it too.

But as he stared into the pool, mesmerised, he saw her skin was stained with handprints of blood, blood from his fingers.

And the soul was wrenched from him as the blood on his hands drained away.

And the Puppetmaster's name was Desire, and the Puppet rose up and slew the Puppetmaster. "I'll take care of desire," he said. And the string wrapped around his heart.

Once a man stood on the edge of a wood, and the wood was thick with trees. Some of the trees he knew, and some of them he wished he didn’t, for they were gnarled and broken, and he could not forget why.

Beside him there was a gleam of light, and there stood a girl with golden hair, and she held a child in her arms.

"Take him," she said, "I can't hold him any longer."

"Where are you going?" he asked her.

"I can't stay," she said. "I was here before. I'm done."

"I'll be so lost," he said.

"Here," she said, and she handed him a ball of string. "Give the child the end, and don't let go."

"Which end?" he asked

"You choose which end," she answered.

The man set off through the wood, and held the child close against him, but the child was crying, and the man could not make him stop.

He stroked the child's head, and caught the child's fists in his fingers, and still the child would not stop crying.

"Stupid fingers," he said.

The child went on crying, and held on tightly to the string in his fists. And the child pulled the string in one direction, and then another; sometimes pulled it tight and sometimes let it go so slack the man thought he would drop it altogether. It was a yo-yo string, and it pulled both ways.

"Stupid string," he said.

Eventually he came to a clearing, and there stood the girl with golden hair, beside the Pool of Truth, but she was so faint he could hardly see her through the mist. When she spoke her voice sounded faraway, like bells on a distant hill.

"This is what you are. This is why you fight."

And he looked into the pool, and he saw the child, their child. But the mist hung over the water, and the truth became harder and harder to see through the haze.

The girl with the golden hair held out her hands. "If you turn over the child," she said, "You can save the world."

But he shook his head, and stood firm.

"I'll save the child," he said, "If I have to turn over the world."

And the Puppetmaster's name was Choice, and the Puppet rose up and slew the Puppetmaster. "I'll take care of choice," he said. And the string wrapped around his neck.

Once a puppet stood on the edge of a wood, and the wood was thick with trees. But the puppet did not see the trees. He saw only the wood, for from where he stood one tree looked much like another.

Beside him there was a gleam of light, and there stood a girl with golden hair.

"What happened to you?" she asked.

"I think it's a spell," he said.

"I know how this one works," she said, laughing, and she bent and kissed him on the top of his head.

There was a blinding flash of moonlight, and the girl with the golden hair was gone, and in front of the puppet stood a wolf, baring its teeth.

He ran through the wood, and the wolf chased after him, snapping at him with great, jagged teeth. He ran as fast as he could, but his little puppet legs made it hard for him to move at all, and he yelped with pain as he felt the wolf's teeth rip into his skin.

Suddenly a branch appeared in front of him, and as he took hold of it, the tree, which seemed to have bent in the breeze, swung upright, leaving the wolf howling in vain on the ground below. And when morning came, and the wolf had gone, the tree bent again and set the puppet back down on the ground.

The puppet took the ball of string that he still had in his pocket, and used it to sew himself back together, as best as he could.

"Stupid fingers," he said, "Stupid string."

He looked about him and realised he was sitting in the clearing, and there stood the girl with golden hair, beside the Pool of Truth.

"This is what you are," she said, and she smiled. "This is why you fight."

And he looked into the pool, and he saw the string that held him together reflected back at him.

"I don't understand," he said.

"Look deeper," she said.

And as he looked, he saw faces in the pool, faces that he'd thought he’d known, and yet, the deeper he looked the more he saw and the more he saw he'd missed.

"Stupid string," he said, but his voice was warm with affection and soft with tenderness, and he was grinning from ear to ear, as puppets are wont to do.

But as he watched the water broke into ripples, and the faces were lost.

And the Puppetmaster's name was Destiny, and the Puppet rose up and slew the Puppetmaster. "I'll take care of destiny," he said. And the string wrapped around his soul.

Once a Champion stood on the edge of a wood, and he sighed deeply at the destruction his sword had wreaked, saving his child. But as he looked around he saw that the forest had grown, and he only knew half the trees.

Beside him there was a gleam of light, and there stood a boy with golden hair.

"Where did you come from?" the Champion asked.

"Been following you for ages now, mate!" the boy answered.

The Champion frowned. "Where are we headed?"

"Where do you think?" the boy replied, mockingly.

"I'll be so lost," the Champion said.

The boy smiled. "Just hold my hand."

The Champion did as the boy asked, but as he took hold of his hand he felt a string concealed inside, strong enough to fell a tree. And he recalled teaching the boy how to use it.

But the boy never let go of his hand, and together they set off through the forest. The boy, although sometimes a little unsure, never wavered, and didn't flinch when the tree roots caught his feet or branches whipped across his face.

"How come you know the way?" The Champion asked, and the boy shook his head sadly.

"Came this way looking for a girl. Found the Pool of Truth instead." And when the Champion studied carefully he saw that the boy's eyes looked as old as his own.

"Tried to follow the string I wrapped around my heart," the boy said, holding up his free hand, and The Champion saw that the boy's hands were bleeding too.

"Stupid fingers," the boy sighed, and pointed to the trees the Champion didn't recognise, many of whom had been broken and torn. "Stupid string."

And the Champion wanted to apologise, but the boy just shrugged and kept walking.

Eventually they came to the clearing. The Champion shook his head.

"I looked in the pool already, and I lost everyone," he said, and the boy smiled sadly.

"Me too."

The Champion turned to look at him. "Why are you here?"

"Don't you remember?" the boy asked. "You gave me your Destiny."

Then the boy pointed to the pool.

"This is what we are. This is why we fight."

The Champion looked into the pool and saw that the string holding him together was now wrapped around the boy as well.

But as he looked deeper the image changed and he saw that the whole world was a forest. And out of the darkness came a dragon - breathing fire; burning the trees.

The boy drew his sword and grinned. Then the Champion drew out his own sword again, and smiled at the boy.

"Let's go to work," he said.

And they went to slay the dragon.

Fic: His Real Father.

Thu, 13 Mar 2008 12:36:25 GMT

Hello out there Angel lovers! *waves* Today is my day, and I bring but two offerings. First a fic, and then something I am not sure how to categorise (I'll explain later). I hope you like. :)

Rating: PG-13 (do I need to mention that it’s disturbing?)
Disclaimer: I own nothing, Joss is still the king and so forth.
Acknowledgements: As usual lots of thanks to my wonderful beta kathyh. And girlpire? This is all your fault!
Word count: Just over 2000 words.
Feedback: Pretty please?
Summary & setting: I played around with ‘Salvage’. What if Angelus had, instead of Rosaria, met someone else from his past? And what if Connor had run off to kill him? And with that, the stage is set...

Connor: “The truth is, Angel's just something that you're forced to wear. You're my real father.”

His Real Father

The darkness was comforting. Connor had been brought up in it, understood how to move in it - how to become a shadow amongst shadows; and he felt more at home out here in the forever night of the ‘urban jungle’ than inside houses that always made him think of traps.

He’d fled the hotel, no one there having the power to stop him. Cordy had called out after him, but he’d ignored her. He knew what needed to be done, even if nobody else agreed - or were too emotionally attached. Angelus was free again, free to maim and kill and destroy people like his father’s first family...

Trying to track the scent he ran into yet another group of vampires. With a sigh he drew out a stake and set to work.

A few bruises later the demons were dust, but as Connor turned to walk away he saw a familiar silhouette come towards him. The vampire exuded casual, almost nonchalant, menace with every step, and his scent was still heavily tinged with Lilah’s blood.

With a grim smile Connor tightened the grip on the stake.

But Angelus stopped a little way off, shaking his head with an amused little sideways smile.

“Now, now son - just relax. I didn’t come to fight.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed. “Do you think I care about what you want?”

Angelus smirked. “I’d be gone before you could lift your arm. But - I found you for a reason. There’s someone I’d like you to meet! Apparently he’s been checking in on Angel every decade or so - very touching. And arriving now? Serendipity doesn’t begin to cover it. Do you think someone up there likes me?”

Connor frowned. What was this? But Angelus merely turned a little and motioned to someone yet hidden, before catching Connor’s eyes again.

“Son - please say hello to your big brother, Sam Lawson. Lawson, this is Connor.”

Out of the darkness came another young man, dressed in a dark blue woollen jacket and jumper. Nice haircut, handsome face... but definitely a vampire.

“Hi!” the Lawson vampire said, smiling and holding out his hand. “Pleasure to meet you. It’s funny, because I always wished I had a little brother - all I had were sisters.”

Connor stared at the hand in mute disgust.

Angelus shrugged. “Told you! His step dad really could have done a better job teaching him manners.”

“What is this?” Connor asked, looking from one to the other.

“Oh - sorry!” Angelus said, holding out his hands, the very picture of apology. “Did I forget to explain? How terribly rude of me! You see, meeting Lawson again set me thinking about what you told me, back when I was in the cage - about me being your real father, remember?”

Connor nodded cautiously. He couldn’t work out where Angelus was going with this, but thought that maybe if he kept him talking, Angelus might let down his guard for a moment or two and Connor could let the stake do some replying.

Angelus however happily continued, as chatty as ever. “The thing is - I’ve come to the conclusion that you’re right.”

Connor blinked. What new game was this?

“I’m right?”

“Absolutely! So, I made a decision. From now on I’m going to take some responsibility. Because - quite frankly Angel just sucks at the parenting thing... I mean, just look at poor Lawson here. Angel sired him during the war - it’s a long story involving covert military operations and submarines and the crew being killed off one by one... quite exciting if you like that sort of thing, someone ought to make a movie...” Angelus smiled a little, before seriousness overlaid his features again. “But the story has a tragic ending, because then Angel just abandoned the poor kid. Told him to kindly fuck off and that if he ever saw him again, he’d stake him. I mean - what sort of father says that? And we both know how he couldn’t even look after you... And by the way, I’m really sorry about that. I think it’s that soul, messing things up. All that love and ‘trying to do what’s right’. Guess he can’t help it.”

Connor was listening, feeling himself agreeing with a fair bit of what Angelus was saying. And despite knowing that the deep sincerity in the voice was fake, it still affected him.

But then the vampire smiled that unnerving smile again, somehow appearing more like a demon than if he’d worn his gameface.

“But see - this is where I’m so very different from Angel... I am a good father. Wes stole you because he was worried what Angel might do - and quite frankly I’m thinking he was right. I mean look at this apocalypse we’re having. Which obviously is somehow connected to you... And what if it’s your blood that can save the world? What do you think Angel would do?”

Connor swallowed. Angelus studied him carefully, and, even though Connor’s sight was as keen as any vampire’s, he still couldn’t work out what went on in the dark depths of those eyes. Angelus however didn’t give him time to answer.

“Now me? I’d let the world go to hell before I let anyone lay a finger on you! This is what they don’t understand, any of them.” He pulled a dismissive face. “Humans. No concept of loyalty. But you Connor - you’re my son - my family - and I always looked after my family... Until that stupid gypsy girl messed everything up. Oh... we were magnificent back in the day!”

He sighed and turned to Lawson. “Remember Spike?”

Lawson, who’d been silently following Angelus’ monologue, frowned. “You mean the vampire in the Nazi uniform?”

Angelus grinned. “Yeah, him. He was one of mine. Dru sired him as her playmate, so I took him under my wing. Guy was a pathetic little poet when he was human, but I turned him into quite the legend. He’s killed two Slayers, and has a thoroughness that’s quite something. That is what I’m talking about! Also known as William the Bloody - which reminds me, Lawson, you really should get yourself a new name. Connor’s nickname in Quor’Toth was ‘The Destroyer’, which is much more like it.”

Lawson looked unsure and somewhat put out as Angelus proudly smiled at Connor. Connor stared back, silent. He ought to walk away - away from Angelus who was obviously having a wonderful time, juggling the two of them like some macabre street performer. And yet he couldn’t make himself leave until he’d found out what Angelus’ motive was... what his next move would be.

Angelus continued smiling and spread his arms wide.

“But this brings me back to what I meant to say all along - Connor, why don’t you join us? After all we’re your family - the same blood runs in our veins as in yours. And quite frankly - you’re quite the chip off the old block. Spike was full of fire, but he never had any patience; no sense of artistry. Couldn’t understand the pure, delicious joy of letting someone suffer and suffer and suffer with no hope of respite. But you...”

Angelus stopped, tilting his head, and studied Connor intently. There was a glow in his eyes that abruptly made Connor remember everything Holtz had ever told him, and also remember that Holtz had only used him as a means to an end. How would he ever be able to untangle the truth?

Then Angelus’ voice ensnared him again, darkness trailing in its wake as it stole across his mind.

“You make your old man proud. Only eighteen and already you’ve got that sophistication down to a T! Can’t say that being stuck under the sea was fun, but it sure proved that you really are my son! Lawson here doesn’t even come close to having your natural abilities.”

Lawson turned his head sharply, and Angelus chuckled softly as he caught the other vampire’s eyes. “Hey - it’s not your fault, kid. You were brought up a good, honest little boy by a loving family. He was brought up in a Helldimension by a psychopath consumed with revenge. And of course he is the child of two vampires... kinda hard to beat that basic evil input.”

Connor felt like his chest was too tight. The absolutes in his world had been shaky ever since he had first entered this dimension... but now he felt as though everything he knew was being trampled and destroyed and altered. Like truth was being bled dry and all he’d be left with was a rotting corpse of deceit and lies.

“Angel wasn’t evil when he fathered me!” he said, angrily, trying to hold onto something, anything - any sliver of reality that was still untainted.

“Oh really?” Angelus said, and then burst out laughing. “Let me tell you a secret: The only reason Angel slept with Darla was because he wanted to lose his soul - he was just so depressed and felt so useless. Really it was a new low, even for him! Didn’t work - so he just sent her away too. Always a bastard towards his family. But I’m not... So what do you say Connor?”

Connor stared, unable to speak. What was he supposed to say? What did Angelus want to hear? It was hard to know how to formulate a ‘no’ when he wasn’t even sure what he was declining. Angelus obviously sensed his confusion, chuckling as he folded his arms - a black shadow amongst shadows.

“You were the one who said it, boy. You’re my son. I’m sure Holtz saw it too - evil is inside you and it’s pointless to fight it. That’s where your talents lie. The only reason you want to kill me is because I remind you of what you really are. You know that all of Angel’s ‘love’ can’t - and couldn’t - ever save you. But I? Can make you what you were meant to be! And you’ll be where you’re supposed to be - with your real family. The world would tremble before us as it did before. What do you say?”

Mutely Connor shook his head, unable to even begin to explain his revulsion. He could feel his heart beating far too loudly, and had to restrain himself from stepping backwards - away from the smiling monster in front of him, who was now holding out a hand towards him.

“I can make it go away Connor... All the fear, all the worry, all that pain - it’ll melt away and you’ll be able to see clearly. You can be what you were supposed to be...”

The voice was silken, low and tempting and full of promise. And despite everything - despite his insides recoiling - Connor could hear a tiny little voice - deep, deep down - saying that maybe Angelus was right. Maybe he was fighting a losing battle.

To be free...

But as soon as he became aware of the thought he rejected it. Holtz might have used him, but he’d used him for a reason. He still had a mission.

“Never,” he said, voice defiant, despite being barely above a whisper.

“Ah well - your loss,” Angelus shrugged - the spell gone as abruptly as if a light had been switched off.

“But think about it, yeah? Trust me, I only want what’s best for you, son! If you want me, you’ll know where to find me - just follow the bodies.”

He winked at Connor, then he slung an arm around Lawson’s shoulder and grinned.

“Now my boy - what do you say we go find out where this Beast is holed up and show it that the Clan of Aurelius still has some bite?”

Lawson smiled widely, eyes lighting up, and the two vampires walked off - never looking back.

Long after their footsteps had died away Connor was still rooted on the spot, the stake in his hand as heavy as lead, as realisation slowly began to seep through him.

He couldn’t hurt Angelus.

He could kill him - probably, maybe, if he got lucky - but he’d never, ever be able to hurt him.

He couldn’t win.

Guilt Trip

Fri, 07 Mar 2008 18:26:14 GMT

Hi. It's my posting day today so here's my contribution. I'm afraid I really don't think it's very good and it's only even half-fit to post because peasant_ helped me pummel it into submission.

Hopefully, however, it will pass the odd five minutes, and hopefully I can make it up to Angel later in the year.

Rating: PG-13, though barely, and only for a few bad words
Pairing: None as such. Angel and OC. Mention of Angel's canon het relationships.
Setting: AtS season 5, after You're Welcome but before Smile Time.
Beta: Beta'ed by peasant_, who picked it up and shook all the small change, last year's dried up conkers etc out of its pockets and made it just about fit for public consumption.
Author's note: Sometimes, guilt is good.

Guilt Trip

Harry Potter X-Over Fic: Magical Persuasion (NC-17/FRAO) Angel/Lucius Malfoy

Thu, 06 Mar 2008 15:27:14 GMT

It's my day at today so here's my post :)

Title: Magical Persuasion
Author: snogged
Rating: NC-17/FRAO
Fandom: Angel the Series/Harry Potter
Pairing/Characters: Angel/Lucius Malfoy, minor Angel/Spike
Word Count: 1845
Summary: Lucius Malfoy arrives in LA to persuade Angel to assist with a mission.
Warnings: male/male sex, blowjobs, and angst
Spoilers: Angel the Series Season 5; Harry Potter Pre-Book 7
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Joss Whedon, et.al. and JK Rowling, et.al.own everything. I merely bow before their brilliance
Feedback: Yes please!
Beta: the gracious and lovely shannon730
Author's Note: written for the strip_off_angel challenge and for winter_of_angel.

Magical Persuasion

Community has Been Nominated

Sun, 02 Mar 2008 17:44:00 GMT

Got a notice earlier this week that someone nominated the community layout for Best Layout over in Round 8 of the forbiddenawards. Thank you so much to who ever nominated it.

FIC: Words and Touch, SPN/Angel, Sam/Angel

Sun, 02 Mar 2008 02:52:51 GMT

Title: Words and Touch
Author: Andrea/silentflux
Fandom: Angel/Supernatural
Pairing: Angel/Sam
Disclaimer: None of the recognizable characters or universes are mine... I'm just playing :)
Rating: FRT

A/N: This was written for my March 1st date for winter_of_angel. It's a sequel to my fic 'Introducing the Vampire'. Also, I was feeling a little sappy and the fact that I don't think that either one would rush the sex too much... hope the schmoop's not too much and that you enjoy it! I have no doubts I will probably be adding to this little universe as I find it interesting to play with both characters - and it's all this challenge's fault! :)

Summary: Sam and Angel... what more can I say?

Follow me to the ficcage...

Ficlet: Rainstorm

Sat, 01 Mar 2008 05:37:59 GMT

Title: Rainstorm
Author: Morgana
Pairing: Spike/Angel
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I lay no claim to Spike, Angel or any of the other amazing characters Joss has created for us to play with

Good things never happened around Angel when it rained...

Icons - 3.04 - Carpe Noctem

Mon, 25 Feb 2008 06:20:09 GMT

Well I'm a day late. I could have sworn my posting date was today. But when I looked on the the sign-up sheet, it said the 22nd. What made it worse was I had nothing done. But I managed to make a batch of icons from Ep. 3.04 - Carpe Noctem. Hope you all enjoy the icons.

[-] No hotlinking
[-] Credit angelspike69 if using
[-] Comments are appreciated
[-] Do not steal/redistribute
[-] Textless are not bases
[-] Caps used were taken from Screencap Paradise

Teaser:

001

002

003

004

005

006

007

008

009

010

011

012

013

014

015

016

017

018

019

020

021

022

023

024

025

026

Created with angelamaria's Icon Table Generator @ Bauble

angel manips!

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 15:01:20 GMT

in addition to my angel/fred story, "that white rush," for my winter_of_angel day i'd like to post some photo manipulations i did of angel. there are six. please do not take these, repost them, icon them, or make them into banners! they're just to look at here, because he's pretty. :) i got all of these bases from hires_hunks. they are all worksafe.

( my preciousss... )

Fic: That White Rush

Fri, 22 Feb 2008 06:54:43 GMT

Title: That White Rush
Author: girlpire
Rating: PG13 or FRT
Pairing: Angel/Fred
Disclaimer: This story is based on the "Angel" series, with which I am not affiliated in any way. Joss Whedon is my master, etc.
Distribution: Please do not archive this story anywhere.
Summary: Something kinda weird happens to Angel, but it leads to something kinda nice.
Warnings: SCHMOOP, kissing, reference to sex
Author's Notes: This story was written for winter_of_angel, 2008. It's set in early season three of Angel. The title comes from the poem "Leda and the Swan" by W.B. Yeats.

( That White Rush )

Fic: New Fire from an Old Flame 1/1 (Angel/Adam Monroe - Heroes x-over) NC-17

Sun, 17 Feb 2008 16:58:03 GMT

Title: New Fire from an Old Flame
Author: Elisabeth
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Angel the Series/Heroes crossover
Pairing/Characters: Angel/Adam Monroe, Spike
Word Count: 3309
Summary: A man from his past shows up at Angel's office.
Warnings: Slash, biting
Spoilers: Angel the Series season 5, though nothing specific. Heroes: Takes place after "Four Months Ago" but before "Truth & Consequences" – while Peter was in Ireland.
Disclaimer: I claim no ownership over these characters. I am merely borrowing them from Tim Kring et al and/or Joss Whedon et al.
Feedback: Yes please! It makes me happy and keeps me writing.
Betas: apckrfan & kallie_kat
Author's Note: Written for winter_of_angel

New Fire from an Old Flame

Losing Control - Wangel Ficlet - NC-17

Mon, 11 Feb 2008 06:15:26 GMT

Sorry I didn't get this out sooner.--like on my actual posting day. Wangel hasn't been speaking to me too much as of late and the story I originally intended to post today isn't quite ready. Thus, I spent most of the day out of town buying a new laptop and when I got home, I worked on coming up with something to post. Here is my contribution, even if it is a day late. :-(

Title: Losing Control

Author: OKDeanna
Rating: NC-17

Word Count: 937
Beta: dusty273; Readthrough: spikesredqueen

Characters/Pairing: Angel/Willow

Series: 100 Wangel Stories

Prompt 006: Want
Timeline: Sometime in Season 3 after Angel returns from Hell

Warnings: PWP, frank language, sexual situations with underage character (17)

Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em. Joss does. I’m just borrowing em.

Summary: Angel is on the verge of losing control… and Willow’s the one putting him there!

Losing Control

OKDeanna

Emerald eyes gazed up at him, confusion and unvoiced questions swimming inside an innocent pool of intelligence and warmth. He lifted a hand, splaying his fingers through her hair, the lengthy auburn strands gliding across his skin in a soft, silken caress.

“You are so beautiful, Willow. I’d almost forgotten how it feels to look upon you this way.”

She shivered at his words and unconsciously leaned into his touch. Angel smiled and used his free hand to wrap around her waist, drawing her closer against his chest, gently swaying them to the music coming from the small, dimly lit stage.

Willow melded into him as if she’d always been within his arms and he couldn’t stop the sudden rush of pleasure at how right she felt there. “Do you believe in fate?” he asked after a moment, bending his head to whisper into her ear. “That two people could be destined to find one another?”

She moved back, staring up at him and slowly shook her head. “I… don’t know. Do you?”

“I didn’t, but now… I can’t help but wonder if it’s true.”

Her eyes softened, glistening with unshed tears. “Angel, what is this? What’s… happening between us?”

He shrugged, using his hand to force her head back to his chest. “I’m not sure and right now, I can’t bring myself to even care.”

She sighed, her warm, shaky breath hitting the small patch of skin visible at the top of his dress shirt. “This is wrong,” she whispered softly. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

His fingers tightened on her arm. “Do you want me to go? Do you want me to leave you alone?”

She glanced up sharply. “Can you do that? Can you just… leave?”

“I don’t know. It’s our dream, Willow. I suppose we can do whatever we want in it.”

“Anything?” she asked searching his eyes.

He grinned. “Anything you want, Willow. Anything at all.”

She nodded, leaning up on her tiptoes, and touched her lips to his, her tongue tentatively sliding across his parted lips. As she flicked his tongue, challenging him to respond to her, he dropped both arms to her waist, hauling her up his chest and encouraging her to wrap her legs around his hips.

He felt her thighs grip him and quickly headed to the corner of the bar, growling in irritation as the booth he wanted appeared to be occupied. A quick flash of fang took care of that, though, and in seconds, he was seated on the leather cushion, Willow deliciously rocking herself against his groin.

Angel ripped his lips from hers, meeting her eyes. “What do you want, Willow? What do you need?”

“I need you,” she breathed out, leaning in to run her tongue up the vein in his neck. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.” She pushed herself back against the table, her small hands moving to the button on his trousers, popping it open before sliding the zipper beneath it down, freeing his erect cock in one succinct movement.

He groaned as her tiny hand fisted around him and bucked hard as her grip tightened on every upward stoke. “God, Willow, you’re going to kill me.”

“I can’t kill you,” she said chuckling softly, running her thumb across the head of his cock. “You’re already dead, remember?”

He glanced at her sharply, watching as her pupils dilated, her breaths hitching in her chest. “You like this, don’t you?” he asked searching her gaze. “You like knowing you affect me this way.”

“I don’t hate it,” she confessed leaning down, capturing his lips again, her free hand lowering to caress his balls. “Let’s not talk anymore, okay? I’d rather just have my way with you right now.”

Angel nodded, not trusting his voice enough to speak. He returned her kiss then dropped his head back against the leather booth as she squeezed his balls, one fingernail scraping the vein at the underside of his shaft.

He shuddered, letting out another groan and before he knew it, Willow was on her knees before him, her hot mouth taking him into her heat. His hands automatically flew to her head, holding her to him, she moaned around him, the vibrations sending an electric jolt from her lips to his groin.

All too soon he was coming and though he tried to pull her away in time, she stubbornly refused to go, clamping her lips around him as she swallowed mouthful after mouthful of his spendings.

He called out her name, closing his eyes and when he opened them again, she was gone and so was the bar they’d been inside.

Fuck. Not again.

Releasing his softening cock, Angel quickly rolled out of bed, reaching for the lamp on the bedside table. When amber light flooded the room, he wasn’t surprised to find a large wet spot on the sheets he’d tossed aside.

Ever since he’d seen Willow kissing Oz last week, he’d been unable to think about anything else but her. How aroused she’d been. How intoxicating she smelled. How much he’d like to fuck her into the ground.

It was driving him crazy. This need to be with her. To see if he could arouse her the way he did in his dreams. If he didn’t find a way to stop things soon, he’d be forced to break his own rule and seduce the little redhead right out of her innocence.

If she didn’t stake him for the sex, he might even be tempted to claim her. Or better still, turn her and see just how dangerous her unsouled counterpart could be.

FIN… for now

Ficlet: This Ain't A Scene (Angelus) PG-13

Fri, 08 Feb 2008 02:08:51 GMT

Title: This Ain’t A Scene
Author: snogged
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns them. I don't. Fall Out Boy owns the lyrics to “This Ain’t A Scene”
Pairing/Character: Angelus.
Setting: Set during ATS Season 4 “Soulless”
Word Count: 114
A/N: This was written for winter_of_angel and for < lj user="angelskuippo">.

I am an arms dealer fitting you with weapons in the form of words.

He took pleasure in striking the match. The fire it created devoured and enslaved the fools, forcing them against each other. What surprised him was how quick they were to fan the flames. It was almost as delicious as drinking the sweet blood from their rotting corpses.

There would be time for that later of course. He would get out of this cage and then they would truly know the meaning of destruction.

But until then, he would just keep showing them the truth within the lie.

I'm the leading man and the lies I weave are oh so intricate.

Angel, Angelus, Angel/Various Others Icons

Thu, 07 Feb 2008 20:38:53 GMT

It's my first post of the day and to celebrate I give you Angel icons. Feel free to snag if you want. I can personalize them too.

Teaser:

1. 2. 3.
4. 5. 6.
7. 8. 9.
10. 11. 12.
13. 14. 15.
16. 17.

Just three little ficlets for February 6th :) Enjoy!

Thu, 07 Feb 2008 04:00:39 GMT

Title: A Conversation and A Crossbow
Author: Andrea/silentflux
Fandom: Angel/Buffy
Characters: Angel, Giles
Rating: FRT
Spoilers: for the beginning of season 5 of Buffy
Warnings: umm... slash
A/N: Just a little drabble... may have shuffled some things, but this is how I see that conversation between Angel and Giles

~ * ~ * ~

Title: After the End
Author: Andrea/silentflux
Fandom: Angel the Series
Rating: FRT
Spoilers: Series Finale
Warnings: none
A/N: Just a little tag to the series...

~ * ~ * ~

Title: The Odd Meeting
Author: Andrea/silentflux
Fandom: Angel/Buffy/Primeval
Characters: Angel, Xander, Stephen
Rating: FRC
Spoilers: None
Warnings: None
A/N: Just a conversation I heard in my head...

Dealing With It

Wed, 30 Jan 2008 15:45:22 GMT

Title: Dealing With It
Author: Morgana
Pairing: None
Rating: NC-17 for violence
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and I've never tortured anyone (just in case you were wondering)
Dedication: For maharet83, who wanted to see Angel's reaction to Spike's severed hands. Written as a followup to In Their Hands

WARNING: Fic contains graphic violence, blood, and other icky things

Angel has his own way of dealing