❛ you frustrate me incredibly. ❜

"If I don't, who else would be willing to pick up the job? No one can light that spark in you like I do, girlfriend. It’s okay if you need a little push. But we’re more similar than you think. And I can take whatever you throw at me when you explode.” She shrugs as they walk shoulder to shoulder in the cover of night. Just as she picks up her pace towards the cemetery, she shoots a seductive grin back at Buffy. “When all those emotions you’ve been keepin’ buried start tasting like pop rocks? Try me on for size.” 

@slaysevil (x)

sometimes faith lays in bed, and like, counts the time. she looks at the seconds while they go tick tick tickin’. b can be downstairs with the gaggle but faith likes the couple minutes to kinda let it soak in. yes, this is her life. she’s happy. she’s gonna tie the knot with the love of her life (and okay maybe it coulda started out better, but bumps along the road of life, yeah?) and it all kinda just washes over her.

she still says ‘rabbit, rabbit’ on the first day of the month. she’s murmured it lightly into b’s shoulder, hoping she was really catchin’ z’s and faith wouldn’t have to tell her about the stupidest tradition. faith still would rather avoid cracks in a sidewalk. but faith doesn’t stare around like she’s gonna be clocked from every angle anymore.

oh, how well the iron of irony irons.

shoulda known better, faithy. it’s b. you guys don’t exactly have a history of fun, nice surprises. bad move. she just hopes blondie doesn’t catch the brief glint of insane fear before she grabs her by the shoulders to keep a rocked faith from legit dropping the counter in a panic. she’s stuck, instead, tryin’ not to respond with a headbutt but she freezes and lets herself be moved.

give her a sec to blink back. she really, like, wasn’t prepped for that one.

“ my b, b. bad angle, ya know? n-b-d. “

that’s gonna be a hell of a shiner. eh, slayer life.

“Bite me. Please.” / ☠️

Rebekah stops in her tracks with a final click of her heels, turns, and for a long moment just sizes Buffy up. Then she leans in closer with the slightest hint of a smile. "Darling, if you're expecting an argument from someone you hope to be a better person, as if I could even pretend to wish to deny myself the blood of a pretty Slayer such as yourself, then you are provoking the wrong vampire. I am admittedly weakened from the fight and I do enjoy a rare vintage.” Then, she takes Buffy’s jaw in her hand and angles her face up at her. “Spare another ‘please’ and we can both have what we want. For my health, of course.”

@slaysevil​ said ❛ what would i fight for if i wasn’t fighting for you? ❜

           “I don’t know, Buffy. World peace and stopping puppy mills,” she offered as she pushed past the Slayer. Thus began their nightly game of cat and mouse where Hope would eventually get away from the blonde for a few hours, only for her to show up at some point during the night and they would ignore that they were supposed to be mortal enemies or something equally as dramatic. “They’ll probably give you a key to the city, rinse and repeat You’ll be a folk hero in no time.”

continued from (x) 

This dance is just another round in a series they’re becoming familiar with, only the way Buffy looks at her starts to seem more and more stubborn in her righteous goals with each step in a practiced choreography. The benefits of getting proper training, and all. It’s like watching those karate masters in the movies. Faith’s, while powerful and relentless, feel more frantic and improvised. She chases those feelings in the moment, in all areas of life. Then runs away from others. 

She feels like running this time (pesky lingering attachment) but Buffy’s not giving her much of a choice. Her face is all scrunched in determination and she just blocked a damn knife with her bare hands. That leaves one final option, in Faith’s mind. “Alright. Our bodies can do the talkin’.” She raises her arms in between Buffy’s grip and opens them outward, releasing herself from Buffy’s hold, then follows through with a kick to her midsection to create distance. She rolls sideways to the broken table and grabs one of the detached legs. Formal training or not, she’s not any less than Buffy because of it. She was chosen, too. It’s her right to kick ass just as well, if not better. Even if the little voice in the back of her head, which seems absent in most other cases, has a very different view on how she compares to the other Slayer. When she faces Buffy again, she’s set in her stance.... challenging, and angry. And she smiles. “Don’t hate the player just ‘cause she’s not tied down by the rules of the game.” She winds up, then swings the table leg in Buffy’s direction. // @slaysevil​ 

@slaysevil​ // “i feel like i’m one bad day away from becoming everything i’ve fought against.” 

It’s  a  highly  possibility,  they  have  to  admit.  Humans  don’t  tend  to  last  long  around  vampires,  dead  one  way  or  another.  Some  of  them  are  lucky  enough  to  still  walk  and  talk,  in  the  end.  But  Hayley  doesn’t  think  Buffy  would  see  it  from  that  perspective.  She  didn’t,  once.

❝You’re  not  fighting  now,  are  you ?❞  Blunt,  probably  a  little  harsh — but  true  nonetheless.  There’s a  lot  more  to  Buffy’s  life  than  just  slaying  those  she  had  been  forced  to  hunt.  ❝Look,  I’m  not  gonna  say  you  won’t,  ‘cause — chances  are,  if  you  stick  around  long  enough,  you  will.❞  Look  at  her,  for  example,  and  Cami.  And  Jack.  Except  he  didn’t  get  to  come  out  the  other  end,  didn’t  even  have  that  option.  ❝And  yeah,  you’ll  probably  hate  it,  in  the  beginning.  But.  Well.❞  She  shrugs,  almost  careless  but  rather  it’s  anything  but.  ❝There’s  worse  things  in  this  world.❞ Like dead, full stop. 

Buffy Summers ( @slaysevil​ ) said ❛ I think we’re being followed. ❜

❛ We better not be. ❜ Hayley glanced over her shoulder, eyes scanning the faces of the crowd to discern anyone familiar. She had told them she would handle it. Handling it didn’t mean ‘I need bodyguards’. There were humans, mostly. Two vampires. It wasn’t faces she recognized. Neither of them were looking at her, or the Slayer, but she didn’t trust it. One hand on Buffy’s arm, she lead her into an ally away from the masses. ❛ Good thing we’re both pretty good at killing them, huh. ❜ Her voice was low, though the vampires would still hear if listening. 

Good. Let them come. 

@slaysevil​ gets a season 7 starter with a hint of first evil

Faith was grateful for any time she could catch a break from all the wannabes running around the Summers home. It felt like a mix of Hogwarts and the penitentiary, between all the creatures and spellcasters and ancient relics and food shortages and lack of beds and girls she didn’t quite get along with. Mmm, cozy. Didn’t exactly imagine she’d be leaving behind the bars and exchanging them for another sort of lockup, but Willow had said Buffy needed her, and that was that as far as she was concerned.

Things were hectic, but this was part of the amends she needed to make. The Slayer had to be patient, and accept the fact that Buffy wasn’t going to be holding her hand and reassuring her through the mess. None of the Scoobies were, and frankly, Faith didn’t want or need it. Sure, it would have been nice, a little more solidarity and acknowledgement that she too was part of the legacy and a useful player against whatever apocalypse they were facing down. But Faith was content to wait. Not touch anything unless told to. Doing the opposite of that is what got her in hot water in the first place, right?

She lazily blew some smoke from her cigarette when she heard someone approaching. Faith spun, and saw Buffy. Busy, busy Buffy. This was probably the first time she’d been able to catch her breath all day as well, as the Potentials were now pretending to fall asleep, actually staying wired like this was some sort of quirky sleepover and not a possibly fatal bootcamp.

“Hey, B,” she hummed, tapping the ashes over the edge of the porch in an almost exaggerated manner. “Promise I won’t put this butt out on the wood this time, sorry ‘bout that. You need me for something?”

@slaysevil​​ gets a fear street (1978) verse thing.

                    Every summer for the past five years she was here. It wasn’t as long as most of the camp, but it felt like an eternity. That changed after this summer, however, and she couldn’t be more happier, well, kind of. There was an upside to being stuck in the middle of nowhere for a few weeks and as cliché as it was, it was because of someone.

To make things even more cliché, this particular someone was from Sunnyvale, the better town of the two while she was from Shadyside, murder capital of the state. So naturally it was on the down low, kept in secret so that neither of them had to put up and listen to the bullshit that no doubt would have came both their way. Plus there was just something about sneaking around that made it all the better.

It was the third night of camp, Faith had finished checking on her cabin and thankful there was no musical beds, and now she was waiting by the tree. Morbid, sure, but it was out far enough and away from the rest of the camp that they shouldn’t have to worry about being caught. Leaning against the rough bark, she mindlessly played with the zippo lighter, flick-close-flick-close-flick and finally, a blonde head of hair appeared.

“Took ya long enough, goldie locks,” she grinned, pushing off the tree before grabbing hold of Buffy’s shirt and pressing her against the tree. “Think we got ‘bout an hour before Tommy does his sweep of the camp,” she murmured, hands moving up under her shirt so that nails could gently scrape against soft tan flesh.

@slaysevil​

Faith doesn’t want to be alone with Buffy on an empty stomach. Sure she was able to stop herself when she was nearly a corpse, but she’s not taking any chances. They’ll write it off as another animal attack, or maybe with this second dead body they’ll consider if a killer is on the loose. Neither of those are exactly wrong, are they? It’s something she considers herself once her stomach is full again: The post-meal revelation that she’s become something of a rabid animal who has a double life as a smoking hot teenage girl. The duality speaks something utterly untouchable, but with the new strength and not having to battle with the urges of her more animalistic side, she’s gotten a new sense of clarity about her situation. And if she’s to be honest, it’s just a tad bit overwhelming. 

So she cleans herself up and finally brings herself to the Summers’ house with the intent to tell Buffy everything that happened before, during, and after the fire. Turns out, pushing her best friend away? Not easy when she’s been on her mind since grade four. 

Already in Buffy’s room and changed down to her underwear and a shirt she stole from a nearby drawer, she pulls the covers over her head to grant herself a calm moment and clear her head. Not that she really knows how to do that, but being in Buffy’s room is comforting. Somehow, it makes her feel a little less like this man-eating animal she’s become. It’s a while until the mattress shifts with the weight of another person. Pulling the covers down, she props herself up and greets the mess of blonde hair on the pillow next to her. “Hey, girlfriend. Bad time?”

@slaysevil (x)

when faith tans — which she does when the sun ‘ s out ( gun ‘ s out — what ? ) she ‘ s , like , deeply tan , and it stands out real hard on these white sheets. but princess b wants white sheets , and what princess wants princess gets , certainly. ( you ask faith about it , even , and faith ‘ ll say yeah , absolutely , you wanna hear about the time i gave up a playstation for her ? and that is way more serious than anybody realizes. )

( she stretches across buffy to be a pain in the ass -- they ‘ re both naked as a pair of jay birds and faith couldn ‘ t -- could ? -- give a shit less. )

“ in the makin ‘. i am the deliverer of good news. -- sparkly damn good news , yeesh , didn ‘ t think this through on the sheets. “

didn ‘ t. really. she gonna need to wash these ? she still needs to wash these , anyhow. she wraps ‘round the chosen first like b ‘ s the only source of heat she ‘ s ever known. and maybe that ain ‘ t too far from the honest to god , is it ? there ‘ s a happy hum all trapped inside her ribcage like a little bird tryin ‘ to get out. what ‘ s with all the bird metaphors ? tweet , tweet , in love or some shit ? she finds she ‘ s kissing along a shoulder because ah , oops , hey , why shouldn ‘ t she ? leave her alone , they deserve this shit. 

“ somebody say breakfast in bed ? “ 

get that shit - eatin ‘ grin off your face , lehane. ( no , never do. )

@slaysevil​ gets a jennifer’s body au starter

Confused. Bloody. Hungry. 

Starving. 

It’s all she knows as she’s trudging up to the front door of a house that doesn’t belong to her, hand covering her stomach as if to attempt to keep all the blood in. She’s sickly pale, dried blood is stuck to her chin, and wet leaves cling to her boots. Anyone else in a condition like hers might go to the hospital– or the morgue– but from the moment she woke up she knew where she had to be. 

She lets herself in, a house she’s known since childhood, and forgets to close the door behind her. She knocks a picture frame over onto the floor on accident and the glass shatters with a CRASH. Uncaring, she continues in, searching for Buffy, until she views the fridge from the hall. Abandoning her mission, she hobbles faster and swings the door open, greeted by cool air, and grabs the roast chicken that Joyce must’ve bought earlier. 

Guess being sacrificed really works up an appetite.

💀 for one muse to hold the other while they die / the gift (:

It made sense at the time to split up the Slayer team once the battle began. Buffy goes up the tower to rescue Dawn and stop the ritual, Faith keeps everyone alive on the ground. There’s a part of her that relishes the fight, to no one’s surprise. It’s been months of build-up to this moment, months of suffering that Glory’s subjected them to, months of watching Buffy shoulder this on top of losing her mother. So the violence is cathartic as the emotion rolls off Faith’s fists in waves. They fight, they win, they go home and wait until the next fight. It’s what they do. It’s what they’ve always done. It wasn’t supposed to be any different, until Faith sees Buffy lying on the ground in a pile of rubble with her eyes closed.

Buffy’s as still as the construction appliances around them, and the stone and the wood and scaffolding, more still than her friends who curl into each other as they stare, voiceless. And it doesn’t make any sense because if Buffy’s injured, then they’ve got two witches and one adult nerd who should be rushing over there to help her.

Something inside Faith knows before she even takes her first step forward. It’s in the way it feels like there’s an icicle lodged in her chest and she can’t seem to catch a breath.

“Move.” She doesn’t ask as she grabs Giles’ shoulder and pushes him out of the way with a hand she can barely control with the way it trembles. Even her legs fail to carry her the full way once she reaches Buffy’s side and she comes crashing down to her knees. “Hey, B.” Time to get up. Hand on Buffy’s stomach and another on her shoulder, she gives her a gentle shake. “B, come on.”

She doesn’t hear Willow’s sobbing into Tara’s shoulder as her efforts with the grasping onto Buffy’s clothes and attempting to shake her awake continue with increasingly desperate pleas. She doesn’t notice how Xander, with Anya in his arms, reaches a point where he can no longer watch and turns his head away. But Buffy doesn’t suddenly gasp and open her eyes, nor does she slowly come to. Faith moves her hand to touch her hair and her finger brushes against cold skin for the first time. She snatches her hand back like she just touched fire.

A few long seconds pass before everything unfolds, no longer able to hold onto naïve ignorance like the last crutch she has. But the moment she truly breaks is when she pulls her girlfriend up by the shoulders and she feels the weight of her lifelessness in her arms. She’s no longer calling for ‘B’ to wake up, but Buffy. When she’s got her face buried in the crook of her neck, squeezing her close and pulling her into her lap, each useless, broken plea and wet sob sounds like Buffy.

It feels like hours later when a hand touches her back. She strikes with an elbow, her own body curled around Buffy, but it only meets air. Giles is ready for it. Through clenched teeth, eyes burning red from the tears, she hisses at him. “Where is she?”

“Glory is gone, Faith. She’s finished.”

And maybe it’s better that way. Maybe it’s better, because there’s no amount of violence that Faith could have inflicted on the goddess that could’ve come close to the exact pain of her soul ripping in two over the corpse of Buffy Summers.

“  go on, say it. i wanna hear it. it would really be good for me to hear it. really.  ”

“You’re right, B. You do need to hear it.” 

Faith’s hands come up to still the wildly swinging punching bag in the training room. A half hour ago, she’d ordered a dozen baby Slayers away and none have lacked the sense to return. Good. Turning around to face Buffy and look her in the eye, she huffs. 

“Your attraction to Dracula is because he hypnotized you way back and I get that he’s coming to help us with the mission but if he so much as looks at you the wrong way, or if you get all drunk on his spell again, then I’m finding a way to dust his pasty ass for good. Cool? Cool.”

When she turns back around and punches the bag, she adds in a mumble, “’Least I’m eighty percent sure it’s a spell. Still dustin’ his ass.”

"he's in your dm's, i'm in your deep prophetic and confusing dreams about the inevitable end of the world. we are not the same."

"You do have that little special somethin' when it comes to keepin' my attention, huh? Sounds like a crush, B. I don't know, this guy seems to think we can form a better bond if I just show him my tits. Could be love."

[ HELP ] for sender to clean up the aftermath of receiver’s crime. / JB au

There's blood everywhere. All over Faith, from her chin down the front of her shirt to her arms and hands... and all over the floor of the school's boiler room. Like, a lot of blood, the kind that might come from a demonic delinquent ripping out a guy's stomach with her teeth.

Faith's standing there, staring at her hands and feeling more coherent now that the... feeding has passed, and now that Buffy's here. Her stomach turns, and not because she ate too fast. She wasn't supposed to get Buffy involved like this. It certainly puts a damper on the fact that she finally feels like a functional possessed human again.

Kneeling next to Buffy, she curses and quickly puts her hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle tug as she’s mopping up the blood with whatever rags and towels she could find. “Shit, you shouldn’t get involved. I never–– you were never supposed to––” She swallows hard and looks up at the pale hand that lies just before the corner where the rest of the body rests, ripped to shreds. Though she retains a lot of regret about Buffy cleaning up her mess, she feels nothing for the guy who decided to fuck with her best friend. Guess the demon part of her decided to take that anger as snack time. The thing really hates feeling weak. 

“I need to get the body to the woods. Can’t get rid of whatever’s inside me from behind bars, right?” Then, with wide eyes that have a lot more life to them than they did just moments ago: “Get out of here, B. You don’t deserve any of this.”