roleplay blog for 𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖇𝖚𝖋𝖋𝖞 𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖗𝖘 from buffy the vampire slayer. predominantly canon based, with personal headcanons and a deeper dive into the overall character and fandom, dissecting the ins and outs of life in sunnydale.
this blog is private, selective & mutually exclusive. this portrayal may be influence by other horror and gothic media, both literary and cinematic. while focused on the show canon, comic based verses will be available. there will be triggering content, such as gore and violence, as expected from the tone of the show. crossovers are highly encouraged, and verses will be slowly developed. biography pending, rules under the cut.
chosen by 𝔱𝔬𝔰𝔦𝔞, she/her, gtm+1, 25+.
one. this blog is going to be selective and mutually exclusive, so please do not interact with anything unless we both follow each other. i'm gonna be reserved with who i follow, just because i don't want clutter here so i don't feel overwhelmed.
two. memes are highly encouraged, although i am slow with replying to them ( pst, it helps if we plot first! ). i prefer doing para and multi para, but one liners will be present, but might get dropped if muse is lost!
three. please don't follow me if you're a minor, i'm in my late 20s, so i'm only going to interact with people 21 and over. don't follow me if you're a knob, homophobic, transphobic, zionist, far right, or any of that bullshit. i will only be inclusive and nice to people who themselves are inclusive and nice.
four. roleplaying nsfw will not be present on this blog, but suggestive and sensual / intimacy things absolutely will, everything will be tagged.
five. i claim no rights to the show, the actress or the character. the psds used on this blog belongs to @/fossaed. edits are made by me unless credited otherwise.
six. hi, i'm tosia! please let me give you love and also let me talk about miss buffy summers because god, i could for days.
i’m rewatching buffy and just seen nightmares and i forgot that one of buffy’s fears and, as implied by the premise of the episode, a reoccurring nightmare was being buried alive. and this, folks, puts her having to dig her own grave up in season six all that worse that it’s ever been before.
everyone thinks they can constantly do quippy oneliners and it's because of buffy summers but the thing about buffy summers is it was well-established as part of her character and her references made sense for who she was. the other thing about buffy summers is she could fucking back up everything she said. no one else is like this.
all the vampire had been able to think about was the slayer. she had resurrected from wherever she had been and he couldn't imagine the pain she was feeling. he's never been to a hell dimension, but he knew a thing or two about death and torture and suffering. hell, it used to be one of his best friends and favorite pastimes, yet he hardly ever thought about it at all. in fact, the thought never crossed his mind. the only thing that plagued his every thought, waking moment, and even when he slumbered was buffy summers. he wanted to be there for her, but her friends kept finding reasons to kick him to the curb despite his gracious help with slaying and keeping an eye on the littlest summers throughout the summer. it would've bothered him, their negativity and turnaround in attitude, but he couldn't care. he was worried about @daethsgift.
he was in his crypt, as he usually was practically every night, enjoying his favorite soap opera and a mug of cold blood straight from the fridge. he had been down in the underground of his cozy crypt when he heard the metal doors creak open from up above. immediately, he assumes it was a vampire or some other creature looking to loot his place, but then he hears her voice. it was like an unlikely angel beckoning him into a dream he never thought would map out into reality. he ascends the cement stairs quietly and makes his presence known by allowing the door to the basement slam shut. at first, he just stares because he just couldn't believe she was here again.
❛ slayer, ❜ he greets, offering a single, quiet nod as he saunters closer, careful with every step. he stops next to his television that was playing dawson's creek in black and white. he glances over and then back at buffy, ❛ careful wanderin' into a creature's place of domiclle, y'know ... never know what kinda uglies are lurkin' 'bout ... ❜ he warns in a subtle teasing tone, no real threat to his words. his head tilts to the side, drinking in her presence, ❛ how're you holdin' up ? ❜ he asks.
physically, she exists. she occupies space, draws attention and concern. but in reality, it does not feel like she's here. or anywhere. she floats somewhere between real life and death, not having yet returned to her body, to . . . her life? it doesn't feel like her life anymore. it feels like she's living through someone else's experience, of other people's needs and commands.
who is buffy summers anymore?
absentminded, she doesn't even realise when spike materialises himself in front of her. her eyes hold nothing, her expression still, at his greeting yet there is a sense of relief to be looking at someone other than her friends. than willow, xander, tara and anya. the mask of pretend feels heavy on her skin around them. with spike, it seems easy to drop it, and not expect intrusion about it.
at his comment, she draws the stake out of her pocket. just half of it, quickly putting it back where it belongs. " i always come prepared. " but the words lack conviction. she lets herself sit down on the stone bench, surrounded by the candlelight. gaze averts his when he asks her a question she so dreads the real answer to. she shrugs instead, taking space in the silence that lays between them.
" i like what you've done with the place. " she's not sure she actually does, but it seems different to the last time she saw it. he's made it a home, his, and buffy envies that. not even her house feels like a home right now. the people living there all aliens to her. " i── " she clears her throat, finally daring to look at him and there is a gentle smile in the corners of her mouth. not that of content, but of respect and appreciation.
" i wanted to thank you for what you've done for dawn when i was . . . " it only takes a second, but there is hesitation before she continues. the word dead gets stuck at the back of her throat. " ──gone. for keeping her safe. "
