#btvs 3x12

[whatisyourchildhoodtrauma]

BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER | 3.12 "Helpless"

BONUS:

[sankta-wraith]

Helpless might end up being one of my favorite episodes. I watched it and my gut reaction was "what the fuck? Giles would never do that. This is the guy who said, 'fuck you' to an ancient prophecy and went go confront the Master alone because Buffy was scared!" and then I thought about it some more and I realized that Giles absolutely would do that, because defying a prophecy is one thing, but defying the Watcher's Council is something else entirely.

Giles has been indoctrinated into the Watcher's Council his whole life. He was raised to believe that their way was the only way, the right way, the good way. The one time he questioned them he just happened to fall into something worse, and the fallout of that only strengthens his belief in them. Maybe he still has some lingering doubts, and maybe some of their practices seem wrong, but they let him come back, even knowing what he'd done. He gets so wrapped up in his guilt over Eyghon and trying to make it up to the Council that I think he kind of forgets why he left in the first place. And if he starts to think that maybe what they're doing seems off, then he immediately crushed the thought, because what right does he have to question them? And he's still like that when he meets Buffy. He's still trying to win his way back into the Council's good graces. He's one of them but not really. That thing where he's upset that Faith's Watcher is (allegedly) invited to the retreat and he isn't? I know they play it off as a joke but it's actually really important. Because he's not surprised. Disappointed yes, but not surprised. They don't trust him. They keep him on the outside and he hates it. He'd do almost anything to be one of them again.

But then he meets her and he starts to care for her. He shouldn't but he does. He wants her to be happy. So he makes allowances, he's more lenient than he should be, but he's trying to make her happy, and Sunnydale feels oh so far away from England and the Council. But in the back of his mind there's always that desire to prove himself, to be respected by the Council. So when Cruciamatum time rolls around he goes along with it. It feels wrong and he hates it but he still does it because this is his job, this is tradition, this is how he gets his place back on the Council. And he loves Buffy, but doesn't he love the Council too? Didn't they raise him, didn't they save him. Buffy seems so scared and so small and it kills him, but the Council says it needs to be done, and he can't defy the Council. I think, more than anything, he wants to believe that they're the good guys, and what they're doing is necessary. But then he saves her from those vampires, and she's sitting in the library and she's crying and begging him to find out what's wrong with her and how is he supposed to keep lying to her? So he tells her and she says she doesn't know him and she leaves. She hates him maybe she'll always hate him but at least she can't do the test. At least she'll be safe(er). But then she goes anyway and the Council doesn't even care. They tell him she "entered the field of play" like her life is a game. So of course he goes after her. Of course he tells the Council to fuck off. They're wrong. He's known it for a long time, but now he can finally admit it. He dedicated almost his entire life to them and they're wrong. But it doesn't matter as long a Buffy's safe. He find her. She's ok. She passed the test, of course she did. But he didn't. He failed, of course he did. He has the father's love for the child. The child might hate him forever. He cleans her wounds. She lets him. Maybe not forever.

[victorfreakenste1n]

maylancholy 2026 prompt: May 16, “Please Don’t Go” event by @may-lancholy | crossposted on AO3

Buffy doesn’t want to be alone after what Giles did. Cordelia is okay sharing her warmth.

SET POST HELPLESS AFTER CORDELIA DRIVES BUFFY HOME + BUILDS OFF EVENTS IN THAT EP Cordelia Chase/Buffy Summers (BtVS), Buffy Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Implied Romance

Cordelia’s car pulled up next to the house, headlights illuminating the pavement ahead. Buffy fumbled with her seatbelt, hands shaking as she unclasped it. She brushed the hair from her face, attempted to straighten the misery out of her expression—her mom wasn’t supposed to be home, but in case she was, Buffy did not want to be seen in her present state. So many questions would come, questions she could not and would not answer. All her face would tell was the betrayal she had suffered, and her words would find no further explanation. All she could say, to herself, and to her mother if she was home, was that it hurt. Cordelia’s eyes lingered on her, her expression aching with empathy. She left the car, quickly coming to the door on Buffy’s side. 

Buffy extracted herself from her seat, quietly thanking Cordelia as she held the door open for her. The living room light emanated out from her house, shining warm through the half-sheer curtains. She gazed with longing and regret at the light inside. Stumbling out of the car, Cordelia assisted her in the walk to her doorstep. The whole time, the girl’s eyes remained on her; watchful, curious, but not judgemental or pitying. Her hand stood steady on Buffy’s shoulder. The touch was a comforting weight, pressing her into the ground, keeping her stable until she was allowed to come undone. Until Buffy knew if her mother was home, she did not have time to cry. Buffy’s heel caught in a crack in the concrete, and Cordelia swiftly straightened her. Wordless, Buffy reached for her keys. She unlocked the door.

Pressing the door open, the two of them were bathed in the warm light of the house. Buffy’s shoulders fell. As she had suspected from the lack of shadows through the curtain, her mother was not home. She sighed unwittingly, allowing the tiredness in her gaze to finally grow strong. She stepped inside, facing the house. Cordelia lingered, just at the doorstep.

“Do you need anything? I don’t know what happened, but…” she trailed off. She looked back for a moment, likely checking that her car hadn’t been stolen. 

Buffy turned back, misery evident in her tired gaze. “Stay?”

Cordelia’s eyes softened. “Of course—just let me lock my car.”

Buffy smiled, bittersweet, and watched Cordelia walk off. This night, and this day, did not feel real. It was as though she was watching her life through someone else’s eyes, or even someone else’s life through her own eyes. Her gaze lingered on the car, the door, the headlights that flicked off once Cordelia took out her keys. It all appeared as though buried beneath a thick fog, like a memory from long ago. Yet, this was the present moment—-and as if to remind her of that, Cordelia’s heels clicked loudly as she returned to the front door, sauntering in. 

“...Thank you,” Buffy muttered, tearing her eyes away from the car, and closing the front door behind them. She locked the door, checking it once, then again, then again. You could never be too careful. Cordelia removed her shoes, placing them on an empty spot on the shoe rack. The action reminded Buffy to do the same, yet, she felt she was simply following the motions of doing so, and somehow not “truly” committing to the action. Cordelia walked over to the couch, and seated herself quietly. 

Buffy’s eyes glued to the floor. 

A million questions swam through her mind, a million waves drowning out the sounds of reality beneath the sound of possibility. Why did the Council ask for this? Why did Giles listen? Why was she stupid enough to trust him? Why, after what he did to her, was he still fired? Had Giles done this to another slayer before? Did she suffer? Did she die? Buffy stared blankly. A million questions, and each answer slipped through her hands, as though each one was slick as water. How could she return to her duty? Who could she trust? Unwittingly, she had placed her faith in Giles. Assuming he was decent, assuming he was good—believing he carried the virtues that she wished to see in him. She saw honesty where there was none, and surely she was a fool for not seeing so sooner. She had witnessed but one virtue—kindness—and mistaken it for more. And yet, even that which she saw may not have been kindness, but instead niceness. Before she realized, a silent tear fell down her cheek. 

“Buffy?” Cordelia asked, her voice unusually soft. She sat cross-legged on the couch.

Buffy shook her head, as if clearing away her thoughts. The questions remained, but she forced them into a box, muffling them until she had time to process the possibilities that nagged at her like flies. Now was not the time to drown. 

“Yes?” she replied slowly

Cordelia patted the space next to her. “...Come sit down.” 

Buffy came over, walking into the warm light of the living room. Yet, it was as though the world was in slow motion, shapes blurring into each other and simple motion growing heavy. She nearly stumbled over her own feet. Cordelia almost rose to help her, but the moment she did, Buffy was already close. Buffy sat at her side. 

Cordelia’s gaze slid over Buffy’s face—bruises and scratches, dark circles, puffy undereyes, dry lips, and bloodshot eyes. Her skin, usually golden beneath such warm light, appeared cold and pale. It was as though her lifeforce had been siphoned away. Cordelia blinked sympathetically, unconsciously leaning in the girl’s direction. 

“Do you…” she hesitated. Buffy stared at the floor. She coughed. “...want to talk about it?” 

Buffy swallowed. “I don’t know.”

Cordelia scooted closer. The memory of Buffy’s earlier words remained fresh in her mind. Her voice lowered. “Was it Giles?”

“...Yeah.” Buffy’s throat was hoarse. 

Cordelia’s expression shifted into something akin to sadness. “Oh.” 

For once, Cordelia was nice, and Buffy realized half-mindedly that even when she was mean, Cordelia was a different creature from Giles entirely. She had never searched for it before, so she never saw it. Yet, she perceived so clearly now the virtues she had formerly ignored. Her hands—formerly curled together—separated, one of them falling into the space between her and Cordelia. Perhaps if their fingers just touched, she would absorb some of that virtue, and pain would no longer follow her like a shadow. Perhaps the warmth would curl into her, find a place within her from which it could protect her from all external threats. Cordelia glanced down, acknowledging the offer in the space between them. 

“Yeah,” Buffy repeated. 

“So, what are you going to…” Cordelia trailed off again. 

Buffy’s voice somehow grew hoarser. “I don’t know.” 

“If there’s any way I can help—” she insisted. 

Buffy’s hand stretched closer, a silent invitation. (Take it, her hand murmured. Take it.) Perhaps the warmth could surround her, cushion her from misery and raise her heart to a higher heaven.  Perhaps her heart would not ache as if cast into frozen air. Buffy breathed slowly, consciously. “Just stay,” she said. “Just stay.”

Cordelia replied with a sad smile, letting her own hand meet Buffy’s. Warmth ran up Buffy’s spine, as though she had come close to a fireplace. Cordelia’s voice fell soft. 

“Okay.”

Leave kudos on AO3 if you like this!

[mycatismyfriend]

Buffy the Vampire Slayer | 2x17 → 3x12

[buffyangelscreens]

[only-one-brain-cell]

“Interestingly enough I don’t give a rats ass about the Councils orders.” Sir this is the energy you should have had IN THE BEGINNING!

[piper-haliwel]

buffy summers appreciation week 2020 ☆ day five - favourite episode You know, nothing's really going to change. The important thing is that I kept up my special birthday tradition of gut-wrenching misery and horror.

[space-between-the-sea]

so on the heels of tonight's episode....I'm rewatching buffy, and I'm on "helpless" from s3, and I'm getting SUPERRRR watcher's council/bmol vibes.