sparklebutch: (Default)
First, the good things:

A short story, The Haunted Author

A good, uplifting news article on gender equality

Some disturbing but interesting images, Fallen Princesses

Yes, I opted out on the LJ linking thing. Let me know if there's any news on that.


The Art Of Seduction, Giles/Ethan

Suns And Guns, Spike, Wesley

Under The Unblinking Sun, Highlander, Horsemen

And a tiny SV drabble which Tastes Like Old Times, for a nostalgic chat.

The last proper fic I posted before this batch, not including Highlander drabbles and dribbles, was on March 22nd, 2009, it seems. It was Violet Sundown, a Giles/Ethan/Xander pwp.

And now to the depressing, personal stuff. )

sparklebutch: (fluff)
Title: The Nature Of Felines
Fandom: Buffy
Pairing: Giles/Ethan, est.ship
Summary: Cali said, "Write cats." She also detailed. [note to self: rupertcats.txt]

The nature of felines )
sparklebutch: (chicken soup)
I'm writing the prompts, I'm writing.

I do have a problem though. Some of the ones I got from the meme, plus some of the ones I get from my usual prompts community, they all lead me in one direction. Keep picking at the same wound.

With that, I have two problems. A, just how many times can I write the same basic story obsessively before everyone is sick and tired of it, and B, well, some of the things would be perfect for happy smut, and all I get is torture and torment and lack of joy. Which would probably bring... sharper reactions in readers, maybe, but, I don't *want* to write misery.
sparklebutch: (Default)
Fannish Friday 5:
What five things are you afraid will happen in canon? Or, for a closed canon, what five things are you glad never happened in canon?

Cut for very vague spoilers to something that happened near a year ago. )
sparklebutch: (Default)
Title: Decent
Fandom: Buffy
Characters: Giles, Ethan
Dedication/request: [ profile] psychoadept
Vague song influence: "Bleeding Powers"
Count: one 100, two 100


Keeping on the straight and narrow, feeling his powers bleeding out constantly, replenishing and then drained away. Every day. Every day.

All alone. Never too late, optimistic by nature but the hours dragged slowly, the days never ended. The weeks. Months.

Getting old in this cell was beyond question. It will not happen to him. He'll find a way out and he'll find Ripper again, if only to get even. Only to get out...

Can't be that he was forgotten here. Can't be that Ripper doesn't think of him every night. Every single night. Ethan knows.

Ethan hopes.

Ethan's right.


It's not what he's expected, but he shouldn't be surprised. Giles gapes when Ethan uncrosses his legs, stands up and says, arrogant, casual as all fuck,

"Well, it's about time."

This heroic rescue mission required months of planning, half a dozen slayers and quite a lot of bribes. Giles was hoping for at least a thank you.

"I knew you'd come and get me," Ethan smirks. Walks past him and out of the cell. Giles follows.

Grasps his shoulder. Turns him around.

"What made you so sure?"

Ethan studies his face. "Not in your nature not to," he whispers knowingly.


sparklebutch: (Default)
Title: Desert Candle
Fandom: Buffy
Character: Ethan Rayne
Prompt: [ profile] all_unwritten #181 : "I've never been anywhere"

He's never been anywhere that was quite as nowhere as this. The Nevada desert stretched an infinity from one small dusty town to the next. When he stumbled into what seemed like a ghost town, tired and hungry, he found people living there. Actual, real people. Not a mirage. They gave him a sandwich and some fresh orange juice.

He keeps going, not sure why he doesn't try to stop one of the cars he sees twice, three times a day. Or why he doesn't try magic.

Oh, he uses magic all the time. He couldn't have survived otherwise. A fire at night, a sheen during the day to replace the sunscreen he doesn't have. And water. He keeps hydrated through magic alone.

He just doesn't use it to stop this continued existence of desert and aimlessness and wandering down the highway.

He drags his feet along the endless road of boiling asphalt into what looks from afar to be two shacks and a petrol pump. Up close, there's a very ornate metal sign claiming this proudly to be a city. Something City. The letters are half rusted off. He doesn't see anyone.

He's never been in a place quite as depressing as this.

Differently depressing, yes. He's been in small, bleak Northern English towns where it rained all the time and everything was grey, from the sky to the roofs to the people who lived under them. He's been locked in a house in Africa once, unable to leave until an attack of some kind of insects would stop. That one may have been partly his fault.

He's been at his parents' house for many years, but that was long ago.

He can go on. It's a long list. He's been, after all, in Sunnydale, California, a hellmouth.

He's been in prison. Not for long, but it was unpleasant nonetheless.

This, the desert, Nevada's vast empty nature, it's different. The clarity is in his brain. The sun in his eyes, the heat in his bones.

He encounters the bleached carcass of... a cow, he believes. He's not exactly a biologist. It's fairly large. Big skull. Empty eyeholes. He wonders what a cow was doing here all alone, walking by the side of the road.

With a short delay, the thought catches up with him and he laughs.

Wandering closer, he discovers the details, the beauty. Small purple flowers grow in the shade of the massive ribcage. A spider has woven its web in one eyehole and down to the jaw. Or maybe it was two spiders, being neighbours.

He's not sure, but he thinks some of the bones are missing. They probably are. There are things here, howling every night. They would've picked everything they could have, probably.

Two days later he finds the skull of what could be a small dog. He amuses himself with the thought it may have been a coyote, and he'll never know. He continues down the road.

Then turns back.

He takes the skull and carefully puts it in a small plastic shopping bag he took from the last pit-stop town. He'll take it with him. He'll find out, sooner or later, if it was coyote or just a dog.

That's the first time Ethan thinks about leaving this desert. About ending this journey. Returning to civilisation. He's tired of nowhere, of being a nobody in the middle of nothing.

Time to go back.
sparklebutch: (a toast to gaydom)
Title: Threadbare
Fandom: Buffy
Pairing: Giles/Ethan
Summary: young men, romantic evening in

There should always be a candle burning. It gives the lot a romantic feel. It's useful in case the power suddenly decides to fail. Plus you can always tip it gently over your lover's body and watch them hiss when melted wax hits their skin.

"And magic."

"And magic," Ethan agrees. "Candles are useful for that, too."

They kiss some more, by the candlelight. Open mouths, messy and wet, one hand on the back of Ethan's neck, fingers threaded in his hair. Other hand carrying his own weight, pressing against the carpet that leaves thread marks on his palm.

He doesn't know where Ethan's hands are, exactly; they travel. Fast and light, featherlike. Except when they pause here and there to squeeze, to pinch. Alternate, sharp and gentle, gentle and sharp, and isn't that just Ethan's style.

"Should always have some element of fire. And some water nearby, or wine in our case. The earth and the air are a given..."

More kissing.

"Now you're just," Ripper starts. Wants to say, you're just being pretentious, you're talking rubbish, must you push the bloody elements into everything. Doesn't say so, because Ethan whispers a word and the little flame on the candle nearest them starts to dance. Ripper watches, fascinated, until the view is obstructed.

Ethan tastes of the cheap wine and of come. It shouldn't taste as good as it does.

He ends up on his back, on the carpet, and slings his arm up over his head. Cold concrete floor, and he pulls his arm back in a hurry. Ethan's on top of him the whole time, kissing, tasting, touching. Making those small hungry sounds.

"Incubus," Ripper murmurs.

"Not quite," Ethan smiles against his chest, and just to make a point, bites him. Sharp teeth. Ripper arches, up and towards the pain. Opens his eyes, which he didn't know he closed.

The ceiling's cracked. Big wet patch in the corner. Ethan's warm against him, sliding up and down him like the best porn. Hard, lithe body. Sparkling eyes.

"Is there any point to it all?" Ripper wonders aloud.

Ethan licks, nibbles. "Have you gone existential on me, Ripper?", in between wet sounds.

"I'd want to marry you," Ripper says to the ceiling. His hand is in Ethan's hair again, but slips away when Ethan sits up.

"Some day," he says and it's almost serious. Might've been, except Ripper knows it's Ethan, and so can't be.

They make love on the filthy carpet, or at least that’s what it feels like at the time, in the moment. They make love and Ripper watches Ethan's face during orgasm, contorted and elated and completely unselfconscious. There is a moment in sex, brief and fleeting, where Ethan lets go. Ripper holds back as much as he can, just to capture these moments.

In the morning, the carpet is just a little bit dirtier than it was the night before. The candles all burnt out, and the only light is the measly grey filtering from outside through boards and broken glass. Ethan wakes and drags himself to a more comfortable corner.

Ripper lingers on for a few moments still, then joins his lover on the mattress. Curls around him, protective, protected. He's not sure. Their bed.

He falls asleep and doesn't wake again until evening.
sparklebutch: (fluff)
Title: Five Random Unrelated Things Based On Ep Names Off This Other Show I Never Watched
Prompt list: Episode list for "Rescue Me" (2004)
Fandom: Buffy
Characters/Pairings: much Giles/Ethan
Time: borrowing from S8 but denying it fiercely; you'll see. Also using old-school methods and one thing with an actual plot hidden

Extra bonus:
Title: Unrelated Bit With A Ring
Fandom: Buffy
Pairing: Giles/Ethan
Note: pwp

Five bits )

and another bit )
sparklebutch: (fluff)
Title: The Breakfasts
Fandom: Buffy
Prompt: Mary, "Giles and Ethan and omelettes".
Drabble: a 100 words

They're yellow and soft, a bit runny on the inside, whisked briskly and poured to hiss and sizzle in the pan for too short a time. The smell is heavenly,

"Proteins burning,"

he says and smiles. Adds black pepper, and the melted cheese spills from the sides when he cuts into it.

"I like it," he says through a mouthful too hot, greedy first bite taken too hastily, "I like when you make me breakfast."

I like the normalcy, he means to say. The compassion, the kindness, however slight. It's love, he means to say. Love in the morning light.
sparklebutch: (awash with ambiguity)
Like all stories, it started with a kiss. Boy meets boy under moonlit skies. Boy looks deep into boy's eyes. Maybe there's music in the background, something with a low bass beat, something with hard guitars. Either way, boy and boy move together into the kiss, and the moment is like in the movies.

But boy and boy go back into the club after that brief break in the back alley, and there boy starts dancing with a girl, and the one he just kissed looks on and pointedly starts dancing with another man. Only his dancing soon becomes more than dancing. Boy who was dancing with a girl becomes agitated, and boy and boy have a very ugly shouting match over the loud noise inside. Boy drags boy outside to have the shouting match in a quieter setting.

Boy wants more than a kiss. Boy wants more than what boy can give, perhaps. He wants everything, he wants to be loved. He wants to love, if he can. Boy wants boy all to himself.

He demonstrates it badly, with a push and a shove and hissing insults into the face of the one he loves. Instead of pushing back, running, yelling, the boy melts under his assault, becomes pliant. Smiles and his eyes are half-lidded.

Rough hands pulling down too-tight jeans, eager fingers tear at clingy shirts in a hurried attempt to get them out of the way. Boy loves boy, boy wants boy. Boy takes boy, breathless and keening and whispering words, fervent words of devotion, love, apology, need, threats, promises.

Their arms are locked around each other. It ends with a kiss, like all good stories. A soft kiss under the early dawn's skies. Boy looks deep into boy's eyes. The beeping of a dustcart backing somewhere nearby can be heard over the noise of traffic starting to pour into the streets. And the moment is perfect.
sparklebutch: (don't be sorry. be giles)
Title: From Dusk to Dawn
Fandom: Buffy
Pairing: Giles/Ethan
Warning: Cat wanted, for a change, a vamp!Giles.

small story )
sparklebutch: (a toast to gaydom)
Title: Rock-A-By
Fandom: Buffy
Pairing: Giles/Ethan
Note: adult content.

I don't have minors on this flist, do I? )
sparklebutch: (ethan praying on halloween)
Prompt 138
[ profile] all_unwritten

Empty is when the magic was there, but now isn't.

You look inside yourself to the place where once wonders came from, and you find nothing. You scrabble desperately, scrape for whatever you find, residue stuck to the walls... Anything. Anything at all. But it's empty.

He wakes from the nightmare screaming, panting. The terror is real, very real. So real he can't focus, can't find his centre at first. That only adds to this feeling of sinking, swirling out of control. But he's had years of practice.

Deep breath. Existence; mentally checking on every part of his body, making sure everything is in place, so to speak.

There. The wave of panic is gone and he's on the shore, shaking but alive and in one piece. He reaches inside and like starting a fire, it's there, a shivery spark at first, but it catches. The magic is there. It's not wildfire, but he's not looking to create storms just now, he just wanted to make sure, be sure it's still there. And it is, burning brightly and keeping him warm at night.
sparklebutch: (ethan fan)
Title: Less Than Nefarious
Fandom: Buffy
Pairing: Giles/Ethan
Prompt: reunion, from [ profile] oxoniensis' Porn Battle V

Sex! )
sparklebutch: (unclean tea)

Fic: The One Where Wes Gets Sucked
[Working] Title: The One Where Wes Gets Sucked
Fandom: Buffy [Angel]
Characters: Giles/Ethan/Wesley
Summary: friends do friends favours
Genre: of the slash pwp variety


Viper: a Kronos drabble.

To Whom It May Concern Responsible For This: a Source drabble.

I actually *liked* "Five Encounters", on the previous links batch.

IJ links

Sep. 28th, 2007 05:04 pm
sparklebutch: (Default)

Title: Five Encounters On The Road
Main character: Ethan Rayne
Fandoms: Buffy, X-Files, Highlander, Dr Who, Music
Rating: safe for all
Summary: Five Rides Ethan Hitched From Nevada
Five ficlets

Title: Hangover
Character: Giles

IJ links

Sep. 23rd, 2007 06:01 pm
sparklebutch: (i link)

Bit serious fic:
Title: Shape of Things to Come
Fandom: Buffy
Characters: Ethan, Giles
Summary: Something's coming... Something big


Light fic:
Title: A Mind Game of Pool
Fandom: Buffy
Pairings: Giles/Ethan, possibly implied Xander/Anya
Prompt: from Rentonesque: "pool, games, sunset; [the story] must feature at least a couple of guest characters apart from your otp/ main characters"; Casey & Cat: "Dommy Giles"
Summary: tease


Highlander: discussion/bunny about the Horsemen, plus a nice pic of Duncan in red satin. One of those nights, you see.

Also, I owe quite a few comments on LJ. I'll get to it. Not like anyone's in a rush.
sparklebutch: (Default)
Title: A Place in the Sun
Fandoms: Buffy, Highlander
Characters: Ethan, Methos
Summary: Ethan's in Spain
sparklebutch: (sex and books)
Title: Twist And Shout
Fandom: Buffy
Pairing: Giles/Ethan
Why: because there was chat and waxing lyrical and...
Note: For Cat who likes the G/E smut.

Ripper, darling, wonderful Ripper, with his backhand that cracks Ethan's lip and sends him to the floor, to his knees... Taste of blood under his tongue. Cement floor under his palms and he shivers, he keeps his eyes down. Ripper, with his vicious eyes and the whip in his hand.

It's not punishment, it's not anger, although it feels like it, looks like it. It's magic, it's intensity, it's something Ethan's willing to take because of where it takes him. Ripper with his bright, strange eyes, with the strange words in an obscure, dead language that pour from his lips like molten gold and spider webs. Ripper who bends closer and his fingers are so gentle on Ethan's throat until he can barely breath, and he flushes dark pink and doesn't fight back. Black around the edges of his eyes...

His throat is free again and his vision is still blurry when Ripper pulls him up by his hair and now he struggles, because being submissive and on his knees was better than this, better than facing the cold, and better than...

But it's Ripper, his Ripper, whip in hand and the cold dissipates like it was never there, and the smile is warm and confusing.

"You're twisted," Ripper says, warmth and fondness and desire, and a secret-revealing tone, "but then, so am I." And the whip cracks on cement floor and the kiss still is layered with blood.


sparklebutch: (Default)

December 2011

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