He doesn’t remember painting the walls of his flat red, but red they are. It must be blood, then. Not all his, or he wouldn’t be alive to wonder at it. There’s simply too much of it to belong to any one, living person.
It’s the End of the World as We Know It (And I Feel Fine)
08/10/2011
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angel the series, lilah/wesley, wesley/gunn | 
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Posted by Minim Calibre
Et Tu
08/10/2011He sometimes felt as though none of them had ever bothered to look at him. At first, when it was only Angel and Cordelia, their fresh mission and fresher grief weighing heavy on them both, Wesley was just someone who occupied the Doyle-shaped space in the office, trying to live up to a dead man’s shade.
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Duty
08/10/2011She smelled good, just like he remembered her smelling before. Soft, for all that she was capable of fighting. Good, soft, brave.
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Datura
08/10/2011Her smile is serpentine, cool and twisted, meaning layered on meaning. If it doesn’t meet her eyes, it’s only because there isn’t a need. The smile is the only thing that doesn’t change in a form that shifts and alters with a whim.
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Devils With Halos
08/10/2011He’s staring once again through iron bars, praying to anyone who will listen that the end will once more justify the means. Foolish to have thought he knew what he’d be up against, what they’d be up against.
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Combat Zone
08/10/2011There’s a lot of shit I never pictured myself doing: living past twenty, giving a fuck if I lived past twenty, caring what people thought of me. Then there’s shit so weird that I still can’t picture it, and I’m fucking living it.
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Closing Time
08/10/2011In retrospect, it’s obvious he became something of a Bedlamite after Lilah’s death. Everything—his fling with Faith, falling into an ill-starred and ill-advised relationship with Fred, pummeling Lorne into unconsciousness when the demon had the misfortune (not to mention poor taste) of telling a lawyer joke while he was in the room (it took Connor, Gunn, and Angel five minutes to pull him off of Lorne, and he quit the agency shortly thereafter)—seemed to re-enforce the idea.
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Body Shots
08/10/2011She was standing there in a tight tank top and a baggy pair of pants, holding a big old duffel bag and looking around like she’d just gotten back from some hell dimension and couldn’t quite believe she’d escaped it. Which is a pretty common look around here, now that I think about it.
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Black Sheep Run
08/10/2011The film of grime on the window obscures an already-nondescript view, bleeding and dulling the reds and oranges of the sunset and twisting the shape of the palm trees. If he lets his focus slip for half a second, it almost looks like home.
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Ashes
08/10/2011She has done this, brought this world to ruins. She thought it would be more satisfying.
Perhaps if she had intended it.
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Posted by Minim Calibre