#Link goes through literal hell and back just for the girl | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vgilantee · 1 year

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in case that link doesn’t work, here’s the written out version :)

“It says, ‘I’m not outside, I’m right beside you.’” The girl in Stab 6 said, reading her Facebook message. Suddenly Ghostface jumped out and attacked her from the side and a second Ghostface attacked her friend from the open doorway, killing her swiftly. As the opening credits to Stab 6 played, the movie switched to Stab 7 where the characters were watching the previous film in the franchise, Stab 6.

“Ugh I love this.” You muttered, glancing at your best friends Kirby, Charlie, and Jill. “It’s so clever and meta to have the characters in Stab 7 watch a scene from the previous movie in the franchise, it’s literally genius.”

“I totally agree.” Kirby said with a smile. “This is the best intro to the franchise since the original, hands down.”

“Exactly!” You agreed. “And we all know, it all goes back-”

“To the original!” Kirby chimed in with you.

Jill smiled and grabbed a handful of popcorn, shifting in her seat to get more comfortable.

Charlie chuckled quietly from the other chair, inaudible to the three of you. He tucked a strand of his shoulder length brown waves behind his ear, his eyes glued to you.

He’d had a crush on you since Freshman Year, and even now that you were both seniors, he still got butterflies every time your eyes met, or you giggled at a joke he made. It was safe to say he was still as smitten with you as he had been that first day he’d met you

What sweet Charlie didn’t know was that you’d liked him nearly as long as he’d liked you, and you were both completely unaware of the other’s feelings. As soon as you’d come back for sophomore year and saw your friends again, Charlie’s gorgeous smile and sparkling blue eyes locking on yours sent butterflies down to your toes. It was a strange feeling that made you feel more than a little nervous.

It took you a long time to even admit to yourself that you had feelings for him, and when you did; it felt like the world had come crashing down.

You couldn't tell him, of course, he was one of your best friends, and if you told anyone else in your life it could circle back around and he would know. That could ruin your friendship, and that mattered far more to you than a little crush and feelings that would fade away over time. So you kept your crush a secret and harbored those feelings in silence.

Except those feelings didn’t fade. They only grew. Slowly, over time. Because of the little moments between the two of you when he’d accidentally touch your hand, or when he’d catch your gaze across the classroom, that sent those butterflies of affection back down to your toes again, you knew this wasn’t going away.

But this couldn’t change anything. By the time you were in junior year, looking at colleges and planning your future, you made a pact with yourself. You wouldn’t tell a soul, and especially not Charlie, that you liked him. At least, unless for some unimaginable reason, he made a move first. That was the only exception to this pact. Obviously that would never happen, but you had to give yourself just one out, for your sanity.

You looked over to Charlie and saw his eyes on you. The familiar rush of attraction ran through your veins and you had to carefully break eye contact before a blush could bloom on your cheeks and nose.

“So, what’s your opinion on the cold open Charlie?” You asked to break the tension.

“Uh- I guess that-”

Suddenly Trevor bursting through the door excitedly interrupted him.

“Jesus, where did you come from?” Kirby asked as everyone jumped in surprise.

“The front door.” He replied flippantly. “By the way Kirby, with everything that’s going on right now, you probably shouldn’t keep that unlocked.”

She glared at Trevor as Charlie muttered sorry. He’d been the last one in the house. “And, may I ask, what the hell you’re doing here?”

“What? Didn’t I find the after party?” He shook Charlie’s shoulder in a friendly way, and Kirby sighed in irritation.

“No, you found the anti-party, and it’s invitation only,” She sing songed back to him. Charlie stood up to get some space as Trevor sat down.

“Yeah, well, I got an invitation. From Jill.” Jill turned to everyone looking confused as she shrugged her shoulders.

After a few minutes of debate where Trevor stuck to his story of getting a text invitation from Jill, and Jill insisted she’d never texted him, and what’s less, she didn’t even know where her phone was, she finally got up to go look for her phone to prove her case.

Trevor finally walked off in irritation as well after Kirby’s questions about his new phone got under his skin.

The three of you, Kirby, Charlie, and yourself, were once again sitting, watching the movie, when Kirby got up to grab another drink. As she poured herself a shot glass of Crown Royal and another with a chaser of cranberry juice, she glanced over at you and Charlie, and saw you two exchange glances, chatting intermittently about the movie and film in general.

A grin popped up on her face; she’d known you two liked each other for years, and the looks you two gave each other were laser focused and exploded with chemistry. The two of you were both so inexperienced in love, and so shy, and she knew neither of you would tell the other about your feelings unless she gave you that push you both needed.

As she thought all of this over, she decided that with the two of you alone on the couch, if she gave you space, maybe, just maybe, one of you would be confident enough to admit your feelings. She wasn’t usually a meddler, but this situation had her seriously questioning her moral compass.

“I’m going outside for some fresh air.” She said arrantly. “See you guys in a minute.” (She had no intention of coming back “in a minute”. She would stay out there as long as it took.)

If there were a competition between you and Charlie to determine who was more confident, your friends would look at you and laugh because the answer was obvious. Neither one of you, especially when it came to romance or love. All of this to say, the awkward silence that brewed while Kirby sat outside on the porch, glancing through the window to see what was happening, was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Well, that’s a little facetious considering the circumstances.

“Charlie,” you muttered. “Do you wanna sit next to me? Like, I know that chair is uncomfortable, and the couch is way better; Kirby’s parents just bought it brand new too.” He smiled and genially sat down beside you on the couch facing the TV.

After spending a few minutes watching the movie, while really watching him subtly through the corner of your eye, you admired him carefully, analyzing his body language and facial expressions as he watched. This was an all too common occurrence. You, staring at him; him, totally unaware of your piercing gaze. There was something different about this time though.

As you admired his features: his hair, his smile, his eyes, his…everything honestly, you got a burst of something new within you. You’d made that all important pact with yourself almost two years ago, and while you still believed in it, you also had grown, and had not only gotten to know Charlie as a person better, and seen him grow as a person, but you knew yourself better as you had gotten older and grown.

Charlie was shy and sweet and kind and smart, and you really liked him. You knew that for sure, and you also knew that no matter how much time would pass and whatever things might happen, those feelings and your connection to him would be forever.

No romantic feelings could get in the way of that, and as you mulled this over, you realized that telling him that you liked him was the best option. Keeping these feelings for him inside would only hurt your relationship, not help.

“Uh, hey Charlie?” You asked, a question lingering in your voice.

“Yeah?” He replied, looking at you with a gaze that made your face go warm.

“I’m sorry, I know you’re into the movie and all, but…” You started gaining more strength and power behind your words as you continued, in an almost teasing tone now. “Now would be a really good time for you to make a move.”

“For - me to make a move?” He replied, a nervous smile growing on his lips, understanding what you were getting at.

“Uh-hmm.” You hummed.

“Couldn’t…you make a move?” He said back, a teasing tone lacing his voice now.

“I just did.” You answered, breaking eye contact with him for the first time since the conversation began to glance at his rosy lips. “Cause I actually like you. Like for a long time, and I was scared to admit that. But not now. Not anymore. Especially when I’m scared, and lonely, and just tipsy enough to not be terrified right now.”

Charlie’s bright, shining eyes stared into yours, piercing your gaze, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach, and your heart rate to pick up. You inadvertently leaned in towards him more. He got the hint, thankfully, and began to lean in himself, beginning to anticipate kissing you.

As your lips met, you felt a twinge of worry fill your stomach. There was no going back from this. You were kissing your best friend and things would be different forever now.

As your lips separated, Charlie sighed against your mouth, and those worries flew out the window. You looked at him softly, full of affection and joy, and he looked at you the same way.

Unbeknownst to both of you, Kirby was outside; cheering and shouting in excitement for the both of you, proud her two best friends had finally admitted their feelings for each other.

As your mind ran a million miles an hour and so many thoughts were racing to the forefront, the only one that stuck was that he’d tasted just like he smelled; vanilla and mahogany with a hint of mint. Before you’d completely gained control of your limbs again, Charlie leaned in a second time, and you caught his lips with yours, welcoming another kiss.

As the two of you continued to kiss, neither of you noticed the dark, white mask-faced killer on the porch. Unfortunately, Kirby didn’t either as she was distracted observing the two of you.

Ghostface snuck up behind her, his hunting knife peeking out from his flared black sleeve, and he quickly grabbed Kirby’s hair, bringing her head back roughly, and slit her throat, blood seeping into her clothes and staining the wooden floor below, to quickly for her to utter more than a quick gasp of surprise.

If you or Charlie had been aware of what happened, you both would’ve done anything to help save her, even jumping in front of that knife yourself if it was necessary. For the rest of your life, you would regret not noticing her hand flying up in protest as the knife slid across the skin of her neck, slicing smoothly into her Carotid artery as her precious blood flowed like a fountain from her body and the light in her eyes faded.

No matter how many times you’d laid awake at night dreaming of another universe where you could save Kirby, that guilt never faded. You’d ended up kissing Charlie on the couch no matter how much you wished things could be different. That kiss had quickly turned passionate, and your stomach was doing backflips as his hand cupped your cheek.

You moved closer to him, sitting on his lap without breaking the kiss.

His left hand slid gently down your back and rested on your hip and his right hand stayed on your cheek, his thumb grazing your cheekbone. You brought your hand around and tangled it into his wavy locks, giving it a little tug to bring him closer.

He grunted in pleasure at the pull, and pulled you back to him, his left hand now brushing against your collarbone. You sighed into his mouth in response, and he broke off the kiss to move to your neck and began gently kissing against your jaw, working his way down to your collarbone with skill you had no idea he’d possessed.

You moaned at his gentle kisses and he continued, seeing that you liked what he was doing. He found a spot on your neck that made you melt into him with a gentle cry, and your hips bucked into his involuntarily.

The vibrations of his moan against your jaw made you groan once again. Both of you were worked up and acting far too much like the traditional horror movie couple who would be killed during, or more commonly, right after having sex.

Despite these stereotypes, both of you were far too aware of the horror movie rules and traditions to do anything without clothes; but that didn’t mean you had to stop.

You rocked your hips against his once again, and he reciprocated, both of you sighing and moaning at the friction. In tandem you reached a rhythm that had both of you gasping and your breathing uneven when Charlie muttered, “God, I’ve always liked you.”

“Me too,” you breathed. “Ever since sophomore year.” You could feel his arousal through his pants, and it only made you snap your hips harder towards his as you felt that pit in your stomach grow. He gasped too at the change in your pace and he felt his orgasm approaching in the distance.

Both of you were rocking frantically at this point, desperately trying to finish, Charlie’s head lolling back and yours falling onto his shoulder.

You grabbed his hair again, bringing him into another searing kiss as you gripped the hair at the nape of his neck. You shifted your hips and the friction of his hips increased perfectly as you moaned embarrassingly loud.

Charlie was desperately trying to hold off because he wanted you to finish first. He was rutting his hips up against yours at a fast pace, hitting your clit perfectly, and when you cried out his name it took everything within him not to come on the spot.

Finally, the knot in your stomach snapped and you were moaning his name against his collarbone unashamedly, working through the pleasure coursing through you.

Charlie came quickly after, gasping and grunting your name as the front of his pants became stained with cum.

“Oh my god…” You muttered, still a little dizzy from everything that had just transpired.

“Are you okay?” Charlie asked, his hand gently resting on your shoulder.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooh

the link does work, but i figured i'd post this version instead so other friendos can read it AND your google docs won't get overwhelmed lmao

#˚:✧｡• paper bin #˚:✧｡• charlie walker #˚:✧｡• smut warning #˚:✧｡• anon

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bodytoflame-ao3 · 1 year

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FIC: i can't hide from you like i hide from myself

Buffy's spent four years trying to forget the revelation that her and Faith are soulmates, whatever that means.

Faith's been tracing a scar that's not hers for months.

(Giles, frankly, is terrified.)

10, 983 words; complete; explicit

Read on Ao3

“Am I being punished, Giles? Am I cursed?”

Giles pushes his glasses up. “No—” He clears his throat, sliding his open book toward her, “quite the opposite, I believe.”

“Giles, please tell me this is a joke.”

“Hardly. The concept of soulmates is long-standing, with myths and accounts dating back thousands of years in plenty of cultures across the world—”

“You know that’s not what I meant!”

He sighs. “There’s many variations on the concept, but one moreso than others: a grave injury dealt to one will leave a mark on the other. It’s, erm, somewhat more well-documented with Slayers, due to the penchant for harm. Still, very rare.”

“Okay, cool, soulmates exist! Big deal! I’m a bit more hung up on the part where you seem to be implying mine is Faith.”

Because there’s no way. Faith is evil, and, well, a girl, more (or less?) importantly.

“Ah, yes… that.”

He’s cleaning his glasses again, and Buffy’s starting to wonder if it’s some weird coping strategy.

“While I’m aware the popular narrative tends to highlight the idea of romantic soulmates, the truth is, it’s often much more complicated than that. A platonic, even spiritual link—”

“Are you just trying to make me feel better?” She asks, crossing her arms.

“No, Buffy. It’s in the book if you’d rather read it for yourself.”

He gestures to the book in front of her — the one she’s been deliberately avoiding looking at.

That would make it too real. Which it definitely isn’t. “I’d rather not.”

“It is quite possible it has something to do with you both being the Slayer. It’s never happened before, so I’m afraid I have no reference.”

“Can we talk about literally anything else now? Like, I don’t know, the rapidly approaching apocalypse?”

“Potential apocalypse,” he clarifies, “hopefully an averted one if all goes well.”

“Hey, look on the bright side. You get to blow stuff up.”

“Perhaps I’d be more excited if it weren’t an institute of learning.”

“Yeah, but this one’s on top of a gateway to hell. I say that makes it even.”

Giles sighs, and shakes his head, hiding his smile and holding back laughter.

The moment passes, and he goes back to his research, while Buffy traces the wood grain of the table, just past the book.

“It’s just, if Faith is my soulmate — and I’m not saying she is — why does she hate me? What, are we like fated enemies?”

“It’s unlikely. The book speaks of a close bond that can reveal deep personal truths. And… are you sure that’s how she feels?”

“Giles,” Buffy says, looking him in the eyes. “If she didn’t before, she does now.”

“And what the future could hold?”

“Probably not a lot. I mean… the way we fought together, yeah, I get it, but… there’s no coming back from almost killing someone.”

“She was trying to harm you. It was self-defense.”

“And you think that’ll make her feel any better about the fact that I stabbed her? If she even wakes up?”

“I can’t claim to understand the mind of a teenage girl, but I do understand these books, Buffy. This is a unique bond, one that can’t be broken by mortal affairs.”

She’s been thinking about what Giles said to her that day since Faith showed up in her living room. Thinking about it, and trying to forget it.

“B?” Faith’s voice rings through the empty house from the foyer. Closer; “I know you’re here.”

She’s been thinking it about it since he told her. In a lot of different ways. The whole five stages of grief, really. If the thought of Faith’s lips on her own had ever crossed her mind, she made sure it didn’t show.

Because she so hasn’t spent the last four years thinking about it; pushing the dreams where she kisses Faith into the deepest depths of her mind where no one can find them.

Buffy sighs, calling out: “Go away.”

There’s too many other things to deal with to think about them.

A moment later, she leans against the doorway, arms crossed. “No. We gotta talk.”

She looks as cool and collected as she’s ever been; always an air of ease about her. Like nothing matters. She’s said as much in the past. But that’s just what people say, right?

Buffy has experience with pretending to be fine. “I don’t need any pity, I just want to be alone.”

Maybe she’s just here to laugh in her face. It would be easier for both of them if she was.

“Just wanted to… make sure you were okay. I’d say it’s not safe for a girl to be alone in this town at night, but… abandoned or not, we both know you can hold your own,” She says, smirking. “But… all that… it was fucked up, kicking you out of your own house.”

Buffy sits up, running her fingers through the side of her hair that was on the pillow. “Yeah.”

“And… I’m sorry I didn’t do anything about it. Truth is, I was freaked, y’know, I just got back here, you guys barely trust me, and I didn’t wanna make things worse.”

The tension between them is as strong as ever, and what Faith knows is only half of it. It’s been different for Buffy since that night on the rooftop. Faith might not know it, but Buffy trusts her — while she’s not quite ready to put it in writing… she does. She knows she shouldn’t, but it’s hard not to. There’s been an inexplicable draw between them since they first met.

She wonders if Faith feels it too.

“No, no, I get it, it’s… fine.”

“Yeah, I…” She scratches the back of her neck sheepishly, takes a step into the room, and the entire atmosphere changes. “It’s really not, B. Look, I came back here to try and make at least some things right, and that’s like, the opposite of it.”

“You didn’t kick me out.”

“But I said you needed to cool it, and… I mean, I think you were a little hard on ‘em, but I never would’ve said it if I knew they were gonna—”

“But you didn’t.” A beat. “Why did you come here, Faith?”

“I saw the First,” she admits, “and… I knew he wasn’t real, but it still freaked me out.”

“Yeah. It tends to do that.” Buffy wants to ask her what she saw, but she doesn’t — hopes Faith will offer it up on her own, but doesn’t want to push. They know too many dead people, and Buffy doesn’t know her life before Sunnydale. Though, she’s always wanted to.

“It was the Mayor. Like he hadn’t aged a day— I guess he wasn’t really doin’ that before, either, but… y’know what I mean.” She smiles, just a bit. “It was weird. Like he… it knew everything, and knew how it would make me feel. Why’s this shit gotta be all different? I was fine when it was just big baddies to punch, but I’m out of my element here.”

The more human they are… the harder they are to kill. Not just mentally, the act of killing something so similar to yourself, but because of the way they know how humans work, act, think, feel… They can manipulate you. In her dreams, she fears she’s been playing into what the First wants this whole time.

“This isn’t my kind of thing either,” Buffy says, joking (and somewhat serious), “Hey, maybe you’ll be less reckless than me. Show them things’ve really changed.”

Maybe Faith was right. Maybe she is the good Slayer now. Maybe that’s what the Slayer has to be to beat this thing.

Faith scoffs. “B, I don’t wanna be in charge. I can’t, I'm not good. You gotta come back and talk some sense into them.”

“Yeah, in my experience, not wanting stuff doesn’t usually seem to do much to stop it.” And that’s basically everything in her life since she found out she was the Slayer.

Faith glares at her.

“I don’t know what you want me to say. They want you.”

“They don’t know what I am.”

“To them, you’re a Slayer. You’re who they could be someday.” They don’t see her past. Hell, they don’t know it. But she’s cooler than Buffy, and they’re just looking for some sense of normal. And Faith is… somehow, more normal. On the outside. And they like that idea more than the reality of me.

“I can’t… I don’t know the plan. I barely even know what we’re up against here.”

“God, I wish there was a plan.”

“There’s no plan?”

She shrugs, trying not to show her dread at how absolutely fucked they are. “Not past ‘destroy ancient evil’ and ‘get brunch’ — that was Andrew’s idea.”

“That’s it?”

“…I thought the brunch part sounded pretty good,” she offers — it’s easy to say, not full of dread and darkness, and it’s how they’ve always coped.

“Yeah, if we’re not dead.”

Buffy smiles, and nods toward the space next to her. Faith’s presence has always felt natural, especially when she’s close.

Tentatively, Faith crosses the distance between them, and sits down. “Look, we need you. They do, even if they won’t say it, and I know I do.”

Maybe, somewhere, she knows that — that it’s always been her duty, her responsibility, her mission to take care of the people in her life, even the ones she barely knows. She meant what she said to Faith — these girls could be them someday — and she owes it to her younger self to look out for them. But she also knows what she was like at sixteen — what Faith was like at sixteen, and it might be easy to make that argument at twenty-one, but it’s a lot harder to accept it when your entire world’s been thrown into a tailspin, and all you want is an ounce of control. To not follow the rules for once.

Buffy sees worry fall across Faith’s face when she doesn’t respond. She looks into her eyes, and asks, “Are you mad at me? ‘Cause you sound like you’re mad at me.”

Faith’s gaze on her feels way more overwhelming than it should; huge and brown, brows furrowed. They get her flustered, and she stumbles over the accusation when she answers.

“No! I’m not, I… I’m mad at everything.”

“B, come on… it’s like you’re still walking on eggshells around me. What’s it gonna take? I’m here.”

She’s the only one here. Hell, she exists, when she shouldn’t — or maybe, that’s Buffy. “I know. I know, and I can’t thank you enough—”

“Then how come you don’t flinch when Angel’s around? Hell, even Spike seems to get a pass, and don’t give me the soul bullshit.”

Because I’m afraid if you touch me I won’t be able to stop myself. Even admitting that to herself feels terrifying.

“That’s… different.”

“How come?” She chuckles, “Cause you slept with ‘em?”

Buffy blushes bright red at her suggestion, shaking her head in an attempt to get the intrusive thoughts out — the ones that are currently chaining together the words ‘sleeping with Faith’ — “No!”

“So level with me, okay?” Faith asks, entirely serious, all traces of teasing gone from her voice. “What’s different? ‘Cause me and Angel, we’ve done a lot of things we regret. To you in particular. And I would’ve hated to admit it even a year ago, but we’re a lot more alike than I thought. Look, I’ve been trying to do good. I wanna keep doing it, but not alone. I said it before, and it’s still true, we’re the same. I don’t wanna just be the chosen one.”

Faith looks… older. Stronger. It shouldn’t surprise her. Older makes sense, and, well, she had a lot of free time to build up more muscle… In her mind, she was still envisioning her as that scared girl. The one who covered up her insecurity with snark and sultry. Until a second ago. And it’s like seeing her for the first time again, beautiful, and strong, and fiery, and passionate. Wanting — wanting more from what her life was before; wanting someone who understood.

But this time, Buffy gets it.

“Chosen Two,” Buffy says, remembering her words.

She nods.

Buffy takes a breath; lifts the hem of her shirt gently. “It’s different because of this.”

Faith’s hand reaches out, the lightest touch of her fingertips touching the scar. Buffy doesn’t flinch; fights the instinct until it fades.

She doesn’t speak for a few seconds. “B, I don’t… where, uh… where’d you get this?”

“You,” she says, simply. Or— “or, well, me.” She still feels guilty; asks, bluntly, “Do you believe in soulmates?”

She scoffs.

“This showed up the day after…” Buffy trails off, entirely unsure how to phrase it.

Faith shifts uncomfortably. “Gee, no wonder they thought you were losin’ it.”

“Faith…” She can feel her retreating.

“Too soon?” she quips, her body language suddenly stiff.

“I know you know.” It’s a bold claim. Buffy doesn’t, not really. She just has a feeling — the way she hesitated before she asked about the scar, the way she’s withdrawing back into herself now.

The way she’s always been one step ahead of what Faith was willing to give.

“It’s whatever, B. No big deal. Bigger shit to deal with than old fairy tales. Let’s get you back home and figure out—”

Buffy cuts her off. That’s the one thing she isn’t willing to do now. “No. I’m not going back there.”

“Alright. Suit yourself,” she sighs, going to stand up—

She can’t go. Buffy grabs her hand. “Stay. Please.”

Faith shakes her head, offering a hard gaze back at her. “It doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

“Why not?” Buffy challenges, pouting. But she doesn’t even know what she’s asking for, what she wants Faith to stay for.

“I don’t do shit like that,” Faith says, blunt.

And maybe that’s true. Buffy’s never done anything like this (whatever it is) either, and still… there’s some part of her that’s drawn to Faith; needs her here. It wasn’t like this when she was gone — far away where Buffy didn’t have to (but did) think about her. Now that she’s close, it’s like everything’s a million times bigger, more connected.

“So you’re saying… what exactly?” Because she thought she knew what Faith wanted — her. That’s what she’s always wanted, right? Why she did everything she did, why she came back?

She pulls her hand away, standing up and wiping her palms on her thighs. “Yeah, we’re connected. But not like that.”

“So, how is it?”

“The whole Slayer thing. No one else like us?”

“I… Giles told me that, when…” When I came to him crying with a scar that wasn’t mine, thinking I killed you. “And I thought he was right. I mean, he’s Giles. Always full of knowledge with the supernatural stuff, but…”

But that was the easy way to think about it. And nothing between them has ever been easy.

“Yeah, he told me too. I mean… when I was you, so… indirectly.” She sighs. “But I did my research.”

So she does know. “And?”

“And that’s it. Pretty obvious what it ain’t, what with how much you hate me. Maybe that’s what we’re destined for.”

Buffy reaches for her hand a second time; pulls back halfway there. “I never hated you.”

Faith doesn’t say anything.

“I felt like I failed you.”

Maybe she should hate her. It seems like the logical thing to do, with everything they’ve done to each other. But she can’t — she’s never been able to, really. Tried, but saying it doesn’t make it true.

“You’re not responsible for me,” Faith says, blunt, putting more space between them.

“No.” Buffy stands, taking the distance back. “No, I shouldn't've been. But I was. And you were young, and hurt, and scared, and so was I, and there’s not a day where I don’t think about all the better ways things could’ve turned out.”

Faith shakes her head. “I needed it.”

“What you needed was a mentor.”

“And I got one. Eventually.” She purses her lips. “Look, me and authority… I wouldn’t’ve listened. Hell, G tried to be that for me, and I didn’t.”

Buffy lets her speak, because she’s afraid that anything she says will ruin… something. What is this, this thing they have? She’s never been able to define it or explain it.

“I read that stupid soulmate page over and over. Probably three times before I got the courage to look down. It felt like… a punishment. And here I thought I wanted to hurt you, but… not like that.”

It felt like a punishment to Buffy. That she’d have to bear this scar for the rest of her life, reminding her of Faith and what she did. She’d always thought it would feel like a relief for Faith — getting the last word in, making her remember. But she looks like she could cry now, and it’s a foreign expression on her face.

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

“I made you.” Faith’s guilt seeps through the bond. That connection’s always been there, if she listened hard enough. Faith… didn’t mean to hurt her either.

“I— can we… can we talk about something else?”

She shakes her head. “B… there’s some shit I gotta say.”

Maybe it’s been long enough. Maybe she can let her say it now.

“I’m sorry. And I know it doesn’t mean much, but I am. None of it was meant to hurt you. I just… I wanted it to be over. I didn’t… want any of it anymore. When you came to L.A… I went there because I knew the only person that would be able to stop it was Angel.”

It feels like Faith’s crawled into her skin again, because she knows exactly what that feeling means, exactly what she’s saying. She wanted to die, and Buffy didn’t even let her — let Angel — explain. What could she even have said? She wouldn’t have understood, not yet, anyways, but now that she’s crawled out of the dirt with her bare hands, she does, too well.

“I know the feeling.”

“…Buffy.”

But Buffy doesn’t want to talk about that. “But you’re here now.”

She wants to know why.

“Of course I am.”

So she asks. “Why?”

“I told you, Willow said—”

“No,” she says, gentle as ever. Not why you’re in Sunnydale. Why you’re here, now. “Tell me the real reason.”

She takes a second to collect herself; steady her breathing before she responds. “You’ve clearly got somethin’ to say, so just say it, B.”

Maybe she can say it — the thing that’s been there, just past the surface, since they were young, when Faith was sixteen, baby-faced and pouty.

“Faith,” she says, biting her lip, and daring to step closer. “Tell me you haven’t always wanted to kiss me.”

“I… what?”

Buffy knows she’s caught her off guard, and to be honest, she hasn’t quite decided why she’s asking now. But she needs to know.

“I am so tired of people not just being honest with me. So just tell me.”

She knows her voice sounds desperate, and she’s half-expecting payback for that punch she pulled yesterday. But Faith just sounds exhausted as she stares her down, mumbles; “…Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“…‘Okay’?”

“I’m… I didn’t think I’d get this far.” Faith scrunches her brows. “I kinda thought you’d start a fight before you… admitted that.”

“You, uh, made a compelling case. Hard to say no.” Her signature snark sneaks back in, smirking as her eyes glance down.

“Oh,” is all Buffy can say as she watches Faith check her out. And it’s not the first time, but it’s the first time it’s put a… feeling in her gut.

“Are you saying… you wanna kiss me?” She hears innocence, hesitation in Faith’s voice, like they’re kids again.

Buffy’s been thinking about it since high school. Never wanting, just… imagining. “I think so,” she admits.

But her thoughts are clouded: with worry that she’ll ruin the semblance of an alliance they’ve built up these past few weeks; worry that if she kisses her, she might not like it; worry that she will.

She shakes her head. “You gotta be sure, B.”

Buffy’s hand traces the curve of her waist with the lightest touch, settling at the top of her hip. “I’m not, but…”

Faith can’t say no to her; runs a thumb along the edge of her jaw, tilts her chin up to meet her eyes. She has those chunky combat boots on that give her another inch over Buffy. “Your move.”

Buffy can feel her nervousness through the bond. It’s comforting — because Buffy’s terrified. She needs a second to breathe, to think. But Faith’s gaze is locked directly at her, unflinching. She really does want to kiss her — that’s a terrifying idea.

And Faith wants to kiss her. She feels that too, so desperately.

So Faith must know, must feel it too. But she doesn’t move. She waits; drops her hand to Buffy’s shoulder, but keeps looking in her eyes.

She shouldn’t want to kiss her. For plenty of reasons; none of them too convincing. She would’ve back in high school, if Faith had made the first move, despite what she’s said before. Something about her… so strong but so vulnerable… made Buffy want to figure out every part of her. If Faith had done something about it… maybe that would’ve included the part of her that was falling for Buffy.

Even now, she wants to pull her apart and figure out everything unspoken between them.

She starts with a tentative lean in, panic in her gut as she feels Faith’s surprised exhale on her lips.

They catch their breath.

Then Buffy kisses her — soft, feather-light, easy. Hands crawl across her back and pull her closer, legs interlocking, deepening the kiss.

Faith’s lips are soft. Softer than she expected. It feels wrong to imagine her any other way now, because how could she be anything else? Her face isn’t rough with stubble against hers, and the arms around her are strong and muscular, but not sharp, and it feels good.

Overwhelmingly so, so she pulls back, unsure.

“B, I—”

Faith doesn’t get another word out before Buffy realizes how much she misses the feeling and kisses her again. A hand finds the back of her neck, and Faith takes control, threading her fingers through her hair and tugging her ponytail free.

Buffy realizes that Faith’s wanted this for a long time. Not just to kiss her, but to be close to someone. She feels it in her desperate grip; the way she gasps when Buffy tangles her own hand in her curls.

And Buffy’s tired of being alone.

Faith’s hands grab her waist, sudden and sharp, pressing their bodies together, hands trailing down the small of her back and down to the roundness of her thighs. Rough hands grab at her flesh, like Faith is trying to pull her apart.

Maybe she wants her to. She spent so long just wanting to feel, and this woman — woman, she’s still processing that fact — the way she holds onto her, the desire behind it, feels better than anything.

She wants Faith. Wants her in the bodily sense, yes (and that’s another part to unpack), but more importantly, wants the connection between them she’s been trying to ignore and repress for years, the one she’s finally starting to let herself feel.

She wants to know what it’ll feel like when Faith comes.

Buffy lets out a quiet, held back moan against her lips (and tries not to, she swears). It’s like every thought she’s spent years repressing about Faith, all at once.

Faith shivers, asks, “God, what did you just think about?”

“I—” her face flushes, hot and red, “Nothing.”

“Whatever it was, it was fucking hot.”

“You… you can feel that?”

An arm wraps around her back, tracing circles. “I’ve felt it for the last three years. Left me running on fumes for hours tryin’ not to touch myself until lights out every time you got some.”

“Oh.” Her face is beet red, and Faith’s completely flipped this around on her, her confidence back in something she knows all too well — antagonizing her with flirting. She can feel Faith’s touch, so strong through her paper thin shirt.

“But if you just thinkin’ about it now…” she grins, and closes her eyes, and Buffy feels warmth pool low in her gut.

The bond’s lit up between them now, stronger than it’s ever been. She’s desperately trying to not think about Faith. Still — “What did you…?”

Faith looks her in the eyes; “Wondering what you taste like.”

Buffy’s silent. She’s fully aware of Faith pressed against her, feeling the rise and fall of her chest every time she breathes. She’s more than aware of Faith’s thigh between hers.

“I can feel you wanna kiss me, B, but what else do you wanna do?”

“I don’t know.” She really doesn’t. Not what she’s supposed to do, let alone what she wants. She doesn’t want Faith to move, so she holds on to her tighter.

“Are you scared?”

“Yeah.” Not of danger; not that Faith might hurt her. She hasn’t been this nervous since she was seventeen, and terrified she’d do something wrong.

“Tell me what feels good.”

“Your hands,” she manages to answer — Faith’s nails trace a line under her shirt and up her spine; fingers firm into her skin, nails trimmed to the quick.

“What else?”

Her eyes dart down, heaving breaths reigniting the contact between them; feels the heat of Faith’s gaze at her black bra, which she knew was on display, but feels so much more so when it’s her. And Faith’s shirt is tight, and so… low cut… and she can’t help but look — because entirely objectively, it’s hot.

She doesn’t look up. “Us. Like this.”

Faith pushes her hair behind her ear. “Yeah?”

Buffy nods, and meets her gaze, just as Faith shifts with a grin, her thigh pressing between her legs. She tries to follow, but Faith stops her with a hand on her chest, fingers resting at the base of her throat.

“You’re so pent up, B. Tell me what you want.”

It’s true, she is. It’s been months. She pulls at the loose black fabric around Faith’s stomach. “Off.”

“Done,” she says, moving her hands out of the way to pull the shirt over her head, quickly meeting her with another searing kiss, teeth gently pulling at Buffy’s bottom lip.

Faith’s hands inch her shirt up, hard pressure on her stomach, and she can’t take it. Her sleeves are long, and constricting, and the thin fabric does nothing to block the feeling of the heat of Faith’s body brushing up against her. She helps her pull it off, gasping as Faith’s hand brushes past her breast.

Buffy’s grasp settles on her belt, running her fingers along the metal ridges just below the small of her back, focusing on the tactile sensation and not the kisses Faith has started to trail down her neck. Her hands run along the studs, around her hips, thumbs stumbling with the buckle. Her hands are shaking. She wants this, she knows Faith wants this.

Faith cups her cheeks, eyes flitting down at her hands.

It’s been years since she’s been with someone she felt this closely connected to. Angel feels like a lifetime ago. And she cares about Spike — for everything that he’s done for her, for her family. Maybe she even loves him. She’s just not in love with him, not right now. Maybe she could be, some day — he has a soul, and a love for her she can’t quite wrap her head around.

But right now, Faith Lehane is looking at her with concern and adoration, heart pounding in her chest. And the now-ness of it all — that wins out.

Buffy wraps her hands underneath Faith’s thighs, pulling her up just long enough that she can turn them around, and drop her onto the bed, climbing up to straddle her hips. She’s the one on top, but it feels like she’s had the wind knocked out of her.

Faith’s stunned, flushed face below her turns her on more than she ever thought possible. If the way she bites her lip as she looks up at Buffy is any indication, it’s doing the same for her. She pauses, breathing slow and steady, hair splayed across her chest and the sheets; takes Buffy’s hand and pulls her down to kiss her again with a smile.

It hits Buffy that the last time she saw Faith smile like this was when she showed up at her house for Christmas. Was she really that blind, or did she just not want to see it? Some part of her had to know, because they’re here, and Faith’s always looked at her like she trusts her with her life, no matter what she decides to do with it.

Faith rolls them to the side, and pulls away, hand lingering on Buffy’s shoulder. “You want this?”

Buffy just nods.

“God, I—” she laughs, voice breaking, like she doesn’t believe her. “I don’t even know what to say.”

She can’t look her in the eyes, not when Faith’s touch is so tender. So she reaches out, brushing her fingers across the scar on Faith’s stomach as it catches her eye, equally delicately. “I’ve seen this every day wondering what it looks like on you.”

It looks exactly like hers, it’s almost eerie.

“You didn’t…?”

“I couldn’t.” It was already too much being reminded of it on her own body. Still, there was this morbid curiosity. “It really is the same.”

Now, it just feels like they’re the same. Just like she always said. And Faith isn’t bitter at her for it anymore (she’s not sure if she ever was).

“I had a thing for you that first night in the Bronze,” Faith breathes, a weight lifted for both of them.

“I know.” Buffy pulls at her hips by her belt buckle, hands finally confident enough to pull it open. Faith is cautious, still kissing her gently, holding back.

Buffy knows what it’s like to hold back. How it’s this pent up fire inside her gut. She pulls the belt from Faith’s jeans — wants to touch her like no one else can — fumbles with the clasp of her bra and wrenches it from her body. She can’t bring her eyes to look, but her hands are far braver, finding the swell of her breast; feeling the goosebumps prickling her skin under her touch. She kisses the edge of her jaw, the pulse point of her neck; drags her teeth across the soft skin.

“Fuck,” Faith whispers, a rasp in her voice.

A hand palms Buffy’s breast, and despite the layers of fabric, she finds her body jumping at the contact. Her hands are small; fingertips digging into the flesh just above her bra. She senses Faith’s hesitation, but she doesn’t want to lose her touch, covering the hand on her chest with her own, keeping her there.

She murmurs into Faith’s neck, “You’re in your head again. I want you.”

Her words must light up something within Faith, because she brings Buffy’s lips to hers again, digging her nails into her cleavage.

“B, take it off,” she manages, between kisses.

She does, and she doesn’t even feel shy about it — especially not when Faith’s immediate response is to bring her hands to one breast, and her lips to another. Buffy threads her fingers through her hair, unsure what else to do with her hands. Even with the lingering questions of ‘oh god am I doing this right’, she silently wishes she figured… whatever this is… out sooner. (And makes a horribly cursed mental note to ask Willow if she’s always been having foreplay this good).

Her open-mouthed ministrations trail up to her neck, fingers on her collarbone, pulling the skin between her lips, intent on leaving a bruise. It’s the right side of her neck — Faith’s lips just barely overlap two jagged puncture marks.. The scar tugs, but the pain fades into the background with the rest of Faith’s attention. Buffy almost wishes the mark would last longer, but it’ll be gone by morning.

Buffy pulls Faith closer, intertwining their legs; she feels Faith’s chest press up against hers, feels the girl shift in her arms as hard peaks brush together. Faith’s toeing a careful line between her own arousal and taking Buffy through this slow. She’s never wanted slow — they’ve never been slow.

Faith rocks into her thigh, grip on her shoulder tightening. Buffy undoes the button of her jeans, reaching for the zipper, but Faith’s hands stop her, pinning her on her back with her arms above her head. “Let me,” she says, panting above her, hair falling down into Buffy’s face. “Please.”

It feels like fighting, and Buffy doesn’t think she’ll ever be able to look at her the same way again, especially not in training.

She nods, meek and silent, watching intently as Faith’s demeanor shifts, trailing a teasing touch down her stomach. “What can I do?”

“Anything,” Buffy answers.

Without missing a beat, she unzips her boots and kicks them to the floor. “Anything, anything?”

“Yeah.”

With the wide opportunity Buffy’s given her… Faith kisses the scar on her stomach. It’s more intimate than any other touch they’ve shared tonight. She doesn’t even give Buffy time to process it: Thumbs play with the button on her striped jeans, and she feels heat settle between her thighs with no immediate explanation.

Faith looks up at her with a soft grin, explains, “I kinda wanna find out, B.”

She remembers Faith’s words, and guides her hands to the zipper, undoing the button herself. “Then get these off.”

Buffy manages to get out of them without too much hassle, breathing rapidly underneath her.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Faith says.

She blushes.

“Do you know how many times I’ve gotten myself off wishing it was you?”

Buffy wants it to be her this time. She wants to touch her even if she’s not quite sure how. She looks so beautiful like this — already knows she looks even better beneath her — wants to see her all strung out in bliss.

But Faith wants her first, she can feel that. And she wants that too. She’s so tense; heat low in her body frustrating to no end — feels it in Faith too, stronger, and wonders how she could want like this, ahead of her own needs. She’s crawling her way down Buffy’s body, kisses on her collarbones, her sternum, her navel.

Thumbs hook under the cotton at her hipbones, hot breaths on her belly as Faith leans in and propositions, “I’ll make you beg, if you can take it.”

She squirms, hips lifting off the bed until she presses up against Faith. “No, please.”

“Close enough.” Faith looks… unbelievably hot, looking up at her with the sweetest and most devilish grin. She pulls the fabric past her knees, leaving Buffy to kick them off.

She looks like she wants to devour her.

“Maybe I do.” Her voice is low and husky, and Buffy can’t even bring herself to be embarrassed that she spoke out loud.

Lips graze the top of her leg, delicate fingertips tracing the curve of her hips. Fingers pull at the inside of her thigh, replaced by soft lips, sucking bruises into thin skin.

If there’s any doubt left in Buffy’s mind, it disappears then. It feels weird, the idea of a woman’s face between her thighs; but it’s never felt like this. She’s been here, before, with men, but now she can feel how turned on Faith is, and it just fuels her even more. Buffy tugs at her hair, not entirely gently, and the laugh that escapes Faith’s lips vibrates through her body.

“Should’ve figured you like it like that,” she says, shifting her attention to her other thigh.

“You do too.”

“No point in hiding it, huh?”

She’s so slow, and so close; winding her up, so calculated and deliberately. Buffy pulls her hair again, insistent. “Please shut up.”

Faith exhales, and pulls her legs apart, one finger a tentative, ghost touch up the seam where her thigh meets her torso.

“Faith,” she says, strained, hips bucking up as Faith lays a hand on her hip bone, pressing her into the mattress.

She’s not quite sure what else she was going to say to her — it all goes out the window when two gentle fingers slide between her lips and feel how absolutely wet she is.

“I can’t believe I did this to you.”

Half of Buffy wants to pull her closer, and the other half wants to find out how long Faith’s willing to let this go on. “I need…”

“You want me inside you, B?”

Buffy’s voice comes out all breathy and high; “Yeah.”

She teases her, silent, fingers dragging their way back down, a lighter touch than before. Buffy watches the smile on Faith’s face as she tries to press harder into her touch. She circles, lips kissing her thighs again; finally, gently presses two fingertips inside her as she pulls Buffy’s thigh between her teeth.

“Faith—”

“I know, Buffy,” she says, breaths slow and heavy, pulling her hand back the most minuscule distance. “I know you want more, ‘cause I feel it in my body.”

Her fingers dip deeper, so slow, and Buffy asks, “Bite me for real?”

Faith doesn’t say a word, but the next stroke of her fingers is accompanied by a sting between Buffy’s thighs. She bites down hard, and god, it’s not about the pain — because Faith can’t hurt her like that — because it feels so good. Buffy always thought it was the danger, or maybe something inherent about a vampire’s bite that made it so pleasurable; but it feels even better now. Faith doesn’t ask questions; doesn’t tease her, just sinks deeper, but Buffy still needs more.

And Faith has to know that — not just from the connection between them — because Buffy’s pulling her, by long dark locks, away from her thighs. She takes the hint.

She pauses, her hand going still, and Buffy can feel her breath, heavy and warm. Before she can speak again — humiliate herself some more and beg — Faith’s tongue is touching her, sweeping up, just shy of where Buffy actually wants her.

She swears under her breath.

Faith’s lips brush her clit, her fingers hooking inside her. She’s soft, and gentle, and all the things Buffy didn't think she could be. “Fuck— Faith, I’m not gonna break.”

“Wanna take care of you,” she mumbles.

She wants Faith to fuck her, but she just whispers back, “Okay.”

Faith pushes deeper, tongue circling and finding a million new ways to drive Buffy to her breaking point. She teases, and kisses, and Buffy can’t take it, but she also doesn’t want her to stop. She wants to know if Faith was always like this in bed, or if she’s taking things so delicately because of their history. If there’s another side to her, she wants to meet that Faith. She wants to touch her like this, make her squirm and beg until she can’t remember her own name. It was almost inevitable; they’ve always been hurtling toward this moment, and Buffy wonders how different things would be if Faith had been confident enough to kiss her before… before everything. She would’ve stolen kisses in the library; danced even closer on the floor of the Bronze; snuck out with her and pinned her to a tombstone. She would’ve stood up for her more.

Her lips capture Buffy’s clit, and Buffy’s fists tighten in her hair, and they both moan. Buffy can’t even find the words to tease her about it — just files it away in the tiny part of her brain not thinking about Faith’s ministrations. No one’s ever gotten her this close this fast — it’s almost embarrassing.

She comes quietly, only letting out a surprised hum when Faith climbs back up her body and kisses her after licking her fingers clean; it feels dirty.

Faith’s as sultry as ever, oozing confidence Buffy didn’t think was possible. Her eyes are full of fire, energy radiating from her stare, soft, but also looking like she wants to go ten more times. Like she worships her. “God, seeing you like this…”

Buffy’s breathing heavily; “I don’t know if I can handle you.”

“No?” she murmurs, caressing the curve of her bare hip.

She shakes her head.

“Me either,” she admits.

Buffy pulls her closer by her belt loops, unzipping her jeans and tugging at the waist. She wants to feel her close.

She knows this body. How it feels, how it moves. And she knows what to expect from a woman’s body… conceptually, but right now, the idea of one beside her own feels so foreign.

They’re both so different now. And still, the same: Faith is the tiniest bit paler, but so is she; less days and more nights. Older; Buffy’s face less round, sharper, and hers softer, eyes wider. Yet Faith’s face still feels as familiar to her as it was back in high school, and she wants to learn the rest of her.

She wrestles with her jeans, skin-tight, pulling them over her hips, learning her curves as she goes. Faith rolls to the side to finish kicking them off, and Buffy’s surprised at how much she misses her presence. When she’s done, she pulls Buffy on top of her, closer than they were before, skin against skin.

Not fully what she expected, her face flushes bright red, and Faith laughs.

God, she’s so fucking frustrating, Buffy thinks, and shuts her up with a kiss. Her lips taste like sex, like her, and it doesn’t feel wrong anymore. There’s no space between them, and Faith’s skin on hers feels like fire. Faith’s hands are wrapped around her back, digging into her, desperately holding on to her.

And Buffy knows what she feels; how desperate she is to keep her there. “Not going anywhere,” she says, lips still brushing hers.

She really wants to touch her now — enough that it pushes past the fear into the forefront of her mind — even if the specifics are still a little hazy. Shifting some weight off her, she kneels beside her without breaking their kiss. Faith's hands follow her, pulling and grabbing, almost frantic; she wants this so badly.

It would be rude not to give it to her, all things considered.

Her hand trails down Faith’s chest, splaying her fingers across her sternum — feeling the heavy rise and fall of her breath, and the stiffness of her muscles, harder than her own. She kisses her neck, reveling in how smooth her skin is, versus how Faith’s fingernails feel as they scrape her back.

Buffy reaches her hip, palm pressing into the bone, and one of Faith’s hands joins her, urging her thumbs under the last piece of fabric on her body. Why does it feel so daunting? Faith’s seen her naked now; touched every inch of her body, left bruises down her thighs that have already started to fade. It should be easy to do the same, and she wants to.

It’s a fight she never expected, purely in her mind, a subject both familiar and unfamiliar. The last time she felt this nervous about sleeping with someone was after Angel. Despite the impossibility, there was that nagging worry it would happen again. It kind of did.

And she knows Faith won’t leave — won’t treat her like a body to be claimed for a night — because she… she’s always felt this way about her. Always wanted Buffy in her bed, even more so, in her arms. Even if she talked a big game, it was different with her. For everything. Buffy knows that now, with the desperate way she kisses her.

So maybe it’s right that they’re connected… however they are. She still isn’t sure if she 100% believes in the whole soulmates deal. What she does know, though, is it’s not just the Slayer line that ties them together.

Faith’s hands are on her neck, her body arcing up into her touch, and Buffy feels her desire as if it’s her own. It’s not — it’s hers, distinctly different — a flush of heat through her whole body. Somehow, she knows, feels exactly how Faith wants to be touched.

She tentatively tugs at the waistband of her underwear, but Faith doesn’t help. She just pulls Buffy from her neck, and tilts her chin up; makes her look at her as she takes them off, nodding her encouragement.

Buffy stares into big brown eyes, watches her focus drop to her lips before darting back up. She’s never seen her this quiet, always full of some sort of snark or innuendo. It’s sweet, and she realizes… that’s what Faith wants this to be. Even if she won’t say it, she wants it to be romantic; soft and slow, no matter how frantic her hands get. And she can work with that. She can give her that.

Her hand slips between Faith’s thighs, pressed together and looking for even the tiniest bit of friction from her own body. She’s been waiting this whole time — patiently, almost.

Buffy can’t look her in the eyes if she’s going to… well, she’s definitely doing this, so she pulls her back into a kiss; bodies closer together — she’s amazed at how well they fit, all soft curves. She’s all pressed up to Faith’s side, knee wedged between her thighs; and her skin is so warm, and her lips are so soft, her kisses so incessant. Faith’s hands are on her face and her back, and they’ve been inside her, and Buffy… she needs to feel it all, for herself.

She starts tentative; Faith’s hips buck into her hand, and she bites Buffy’s lip. The only thing that keeps her on track is the knowledge of how insanely strung up the girl in her arms is. Her breath hitches, gripping Buffy’s shoulder as her fingertips barely touch her.

With even the lightest touch, she still feels how wet she is. It’s exciting, knowing it’s her that’s turned her on this much. She gets braver, dragging a finger through folds of flesh, carefully, slowly. Faith’s response is to kiss her deeper, to let out the softest moan against her lips.

“B,” she says, breathing heavily, “I can’t take much more.”

Having Faith — anyone — this desperate makes her stomach do flips. Especially when, if she focuses, she can feel it for herself.

“Sorry,” she says, feeling the blush creep up her face. She’s trying to rack up the courage not to just tease her for eternity. She circles, far from where Faith wants her, trying to give her something more.

Faith bites her lip, nodding almost imperceptibly. “Please.”

God, it makes her want to melt, and that’s enough. She presses inside her, and it feels so much better than the times she’s touched herself. She can feel every part of Faith’s reaction — the way her muscles tense, how her fingers dig into Buffy’s arm, and her forehead, damp with sweat, rests on her shoulder. Faith doesn’t want her to slow down. And Buffy, well… she likes touching her like this — likes hearing her sharp breaths at every new touch, and feeling her response — likes this woman she’s with. So she doesn’t. She sinks further, until the heel of her palm is pressing into hot skin, and Faith’s immediate response is to say:

“More.”

She’s not asking, and besides, Buffy isn’t interested in saying no. She gives her another finger, and sets a slow pace. Faith’s labored pants are heavy against her, hot and… well hot, as in massively attractive. Her face lights up in a pleasured smile, and it almost sounds like she laughs as Buffy moves faster. She kisses her neck, intent on leaving a mark for at least the night, and Faith encourages her with the softest yes in her ear.

It might be mean, but in her hesitation, she’s noticed how sexy it is to tease her — the power trip; how much it turns Faith on even more to be wanting with no control. Faith’s silently asking for more, but Buffy stills, curling her fingertips, and waits until she actually asks.

Faith speaks up almost immediately, her voice raspy, “Buffy, don’t stop.”

“Ask nice.”

“Please?”

“Good girl,” she whispers, without a second thought, not even sure where the words came from — but Faith seems to like it, because her whole body reacts, shuddering. It’s like lightning through Buffy.

She pulls Buffy’s lips away from her neck and to her own, hips arching further into her touch. Buffy lifts her thumb to attempt to give her more; all awkward angles and fumbling, and it’s not easy. Faith brings her own hand between them, pushes Buffy away frantically.

Weirdly, she feels almost… jealous, because she wants to be the one that makes her come… but she’s also the one with her fingers inside Faith, so she guesses that counts. Her own mind is getting a little hazy, because the closer she brings Faith to the edge, the more she can feel in her own body; waves of pleasure with no source. So she lets her.

When Faith tips over the edge — god, she was right to wonder — it’s like Buffy’s falling with her, completely separate from her own body. Faith’s pleasure feels like a part of her, but she doesn’t feel it in her body. It’s what she imagines a phantom limb might feel like, but good.

Sweat beads on Faith’s forehead. She taps Buffy’s wrist.

Cool air hits her fingers, and she’s so curious about what Faith tastes like, but her body feels frozen.

“B,” Faith whispers, kissing her softly, inbetween deep breaths, “You’re… god, I…”

Her lips follow along lazily, letting Faith lead. She feels so alive — full of fire, like she was before. There was a time where all Buffy saw in her eyes was emptiness. When she pulls away, she sees trust.

“That was…”

“Fucking incredible?”

She nods.

Faith smirks, leaning up on her elbow, takes a gentle hold on Buffy’s wrist and lifts her hand off her thigh.

“You’re such a priss.”

“Not exactly the expert here.”

She rolls her eyes, and all Buffy can do is watch as she takes her fingers into her mouth.

Like it’s nothing; “You’re missing out.”

Buffy blushes.

“Sorry,” she chuckles, a low rumble that Buffy feels in places she shouldn’t, “Fucking cute when you’re all Saint Buffy.”

She’s never seen Faith this happy. She looks at Buffy with this light in her eyes, and holds on to her so tight. It’s hard to imagine why Faith wants her like this after everything they’ve been through.

“You feel it all too? Everything you did to me?”

“Yeah,” Buffy admits.

Faith’s smile falters, and she brushes a piece of hair out of Buffy’s face. “Felt it when you got hurt too. You die a third time?”

“Technically,” she admits.

Her fingers run across the scar on her chest. “Gotta stop doin’ that.”

“I didn’t…” She didn’t notice — didn’t even look. “You too?”

Faith doesn’t answer, just guides her hand to her chest; a mirror image.

She’s in bed with Faith, in a stranger’s bed, and it should feel weird, wrong — but it just feels comforting. They share scars, and pain; powers, and a destiny.

“Hurt like hell,” she says, and Buffy realizes she’s looking at her for confirmation.

She nods. It did.

“I mean it. You matter, B. No matter what they say or do, they care about you. Don’t make with the recklessness.”

There was a time when Buffy thought she might be okay with, or even want to die. It’s been a while — and she doesn’t want to die.

“Goes for you too.”

Faith nods; an acknowledgment.

Buffy knows she thinks everyone hates her. It’s so much more complicated than that. And the only thing that matters is that Buffy wants her to stay — not just because of the connection they have, but because she cares about her. She likes Faith, she always has, because she’s strong, and bold, and she’s got this wit that Buffy was always jealous of. But she isn’t unafraid. She doesn’t ever want to show it, but that’s the thing — even if she doesn’t know why or how, Buffy always has some sort of sense of how she’s feeling.

And she was just a scared teenager. They both were. Now, here they are, years later and still just as scared. There’s something comforting about that, which Buffy thinks might be just a little fucked up, but it doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s the Slayer connection; maybe they’re soulmates. It’s not like she’ll ever be able to tell the difference. The entire world could end in a few days and all she wants is this moment — now, laying in her arms, feeling wanted and understood.

But it can’t last forever. They have responsibilities, and people counting on them — the fate of thousands of girls on the line.

She catches a glimpse of Faith’s chest out of the corner of her eye. “We should… clothes.”

Faith pulls away without a word, sitting up and stretching her arms and shoulders out.

Buffy looks away before her thoughts have a chance to go anywhere else. She leans over the side of the bed; finds her shirt on the floor, and her underwear behind the pillows. Haphazardly, she dresses herself while Faith’s back is turned — she takes the long way around the bed — and pulls her legs up to her chest when she’s done, trying to hide the transparency of her shirt and her lack of bra.

Faith’s hips sway as she wanders over to collect her things from the floor. Buffy’s eyes don’t stray, purely fixated on her figure as she pulls on her underwear. Faith turns around, sees her watching, and smirks, but Buffy doesn’t look away because she’s not ashamed of admiring her. In fact, she’s kind of transfixed by her body. Not that she hasn’t carefully analyzed her own in the mirror — she’s just never looked at a woman like this with such… intrigue. When she looks close, she notices Faith has abs, but they’re soft and rounded into her stomach, contoured but not chiseled.

Faith dresses herself casually, not making a show of it, but deliberately meeting Buffy’s gaze — bra, then shirt, all black fabric. She doesn’t make a snarky comment about Buffy’s blatant ogling.

Instead, she walks back over, and with a hand on Buffy’s knee, gently spins her to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Will you come back with me?” she asks, taking Buffy’s hand, her jeans draped over her other arm — ready to pull her to her feet.

Faith’s looking in her eyes, not at her body, and Buffy knows she’s sincere — but this kind of vulnerability makes her feel more naked.

“I… I don’t know.”

“They put me in charge. Kinda can’t argue with what I decide to do with that,” she chuckles, before her smile disappears. “And I don’t want you alone here. City’s not fucking safe. And we’re safer with you there.”

She purses her lips. They don’t want her there. Her friends don’t want her there. Her sister doesn’t even want her there. But Faith does, beyond all reason.

What’s stopping them from putting someone else in charge if they don’t like her choices? She'd rather have Faith in charge than… Andrew.

But they are her friends. Hell, they’re her family at this point. She can’t just leave them. So maybe tomorrow.

“I’ll think about it,” she offers, hoping it’s enough.

“Yeah,” she nods, dropping her hand. “Sleep on it. ’S all I’m asking.”

“Um, your… socks are over there.” Buffy points to the corner, where one’s managed to land on the lampshade, the other in the middle of the floor.

Faith laughs, “Damn.”

“So… we should probably…”

Talk about… everything.

Something almost tangible’s changed between them now.

It only hits her then: God, I slept with Faith. And I’m kind of okay with that.

“Probably, but… look, if we die by next Tuesday, we never have to talk about it, so… table it ’til then?” Faith jokes, smiling softly.

She can’t be alone now. Not after this.

For whatever reason — fate, or luck, or the meddling of the Powers-That-Be — there’s something connecting them, something deep and strong and tied into their very being. Maybe it’s the Slayer. But maybe it’s not. Maybe it was inevitable they’d fall into bed together eventually, no matter how far down the line.

Buffy shakes her head. “Save the talk for then, but don’t leave me.”

I just need tonight.

Faith nods; lays the rest of her things on the floor, and her bra joins them as she reaches into her shirt to pull it off. She does it without words — without question of what Buffy wants from her — pulls a folded-up blanket from the foot of the bed, climbs across and drapes it over Buffy’s shoulders.

“Hey,” Faith says, sitting cross-legged behind her, leaning her chin on Buffy’s shoulder. “We got this. Chosen Two, right? So let’s just pretend everything’s fine for tonight. Let’s pretend this is normal, and not as fucked up as it is.”

Reaching back, she touches Faith’s knee. “Okay.”

With Faith behind her, she can imagine a younger girl, and her younger self. Eyes closed, she can picture her bedroom and the few times Faith ended up in her bed. Innocent, by all measures. She distinctly remembers one:

Buffy had basically forced them all into a Scooby movie night, with her executive decision to rent 10 Things I Hate About You. Faith made it clear that she hated rom-coms, and thought they were the lowest, most soulless form of entertainment.

After, when Buffy, Willow, and Cordelia were a crying wreck (and she swears she saw a tear or two out of Oz), Faith, unaffected, promised Buffy that one day, she’d show her a ‘real’ movie. Everyone except Buffy and Faith crashed on the couch or floor somewhere during the first 30 minutes of whatever movie they put on next. It was well past two, and even so, Buffy had to convince her to stay (the final selling point being her mom’s mean pancake breakfast). She remembers blushing when Faith slipped under the sheets of her bed in just her underwear and one of Buffy’s t-shirts.

It was the most normal they’d ever been together. Regular teenage girl stuff, for completely normal teenage girls. A week later it all fell apart.

There was at least one more — that time they fell asleep after patching each other up, wounds gone by morning. Maybe there was a third. Buffy can’t remember — but she can imagine it. And if that Faith kissed her shoulder, maybe it could still feel as good and right as it does now. If only she had let herself feel that way.

Faith shifts, and Buffy realizes that she’s laying down.

Made the bed, might as well lie in it.

She turns toward Faith, pulling her legs up onto the bed. Lays down, and drapes the blanket over both of them.

They’re not close, but not far; arms length. Faith takes her hands and pulls her in. “Warm enough?”

There’s no heat in the house. It’s May in California, and somehow, Faith’s radiating warmth. “All good.”

She chuckles. “That was flirting, by the way. You’re always frickin’ cold.”

“Am not!”

“C’mon, who wears a jacket for 60 and sunny?”

“Most of Southern California?”

It’s so good to talk to her like this again. Everything just seems to fall into place. It’s like nothing’s changed since that night they first met, even though they’re entirely different people now. Seeing Faith laugh and smile again, and really mean it… it’s like seeing her for the first time again.

“God, you wouldn’t last a day up north. 60’s when we break out the shorts. If it weren’t for the workplace hazards…”

It’s another reminder of how quick they’ve grown up.

“Ugh, I hate that we’re all practical now — I wouldn’t go slaying in a skirt if you paid me. And I can’t believe I’m saying that. Is this what being a responsible adult is?”

Faith grins, “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think sex in a stranger’s bed while trying to vanquish an ultimate evil is responsible.”

Her hand runs up and down the curve of her waist, and Buffy doesn’t ever want her to stop.

“Point taken,” Buffy says, ignoring the heat in her face.

“Now, last time we were in the same bed together…” Faith starts, tone turning playful, “You made fun of my underwear.”

Only because I was trying to distract you from my tomato-face. Which I’m kinda trying to do now, too.

She darts back— “And I see nothing’s changed; still boring.”

“Black’s not boring, B, it’s sexy.”

“…You’re hotter without them.”

Why did I say that?

“Didn’t know you could talk like that.”

“I… can’t,” she laughs, unable to keep a straight face. So much for the sexy.

“Fun to watch you try, though.”

And she’s kind of mortified, but it’s also kind of hot, listening to how endearing Faith finds it.

“Brings me way back, y’know. You all awkward and adorable, tryin’ to look tough for me. No way you could’ve known I was putting it on too.”

“You are tough.”

“Not the way I wanted to be.”

Buffy closes her eyes, and tells her a secret: “The night I found out I was the Slayer I cried myself to sleep.”

Faith kisses her, cradling her cheek in her hand. It’s slow, and deep, and stops long before Buffy wants it to.

“Sorry,” she says, hand still on her face.

“I… I didn’t know my emotional trauma got you that hot and bothered.”

“Yeah, you know me, I’m super into the girls with baggage.”

Her words are light and comedic, but her voice is gentle; fingers tucking strands of hair behind her ears.

Buffy sighs. “Y’know… it’s good to just talk, like this.”

Faith nods, letting her hands drop back to the space on the sheets between them. “Almost makes me forget about the whole impending doom.”

“You’re a good… distraction.”

She lets her hand reach out, trailing her fingers down Faith's leg. Her skin dots with goosebumps under her touch, and she can feel the fine baby hairs peppering her thigh.

“Yeah…”

Faith trails off, and Buffy pulls away, worrying she’s said or done something wrong. Everything’s felt so… natural, the way they’ve been talking. She sees a familiar fear in Faith’s eyes, and watches as she plays with her sleeves.

“You don’t have to pretend for my sake. I can handle… I’ve been handling it.”

Faith wants to pull away; hide. She wants to do what she’s always done.

She’s frustrating as all hell.

Buffy treads carefully. “Faith… you know that’s not… I do actually…” Like you. However weird it is to feel. She wishes she could actually put the words together at a time like this, when so much seems to hinge on her being able to spit them out.

Faith sighs silently, and her words are barely spoken; “I can’t give you what you want.”

“You don’t know that.”

Buffy can tell she’s uncomfortable, too vulnerable, face to face like this. But she doesn’t say anything. She just pulls Buffy closer, into the crook of her arm, and wraps her arms around her, over and under.

She doesn’t even know what she wants.

Neither of them has done anything like this before. It feels good. Faith’s endlessly soft; smells like sex, leather, and Buffy’s shampoo. The whole house’s been using her stuff, but it feels more natural on Faith. Like catching the faint scent of a lover on her pillowcase.

“I don’t want this to be it,” Buffy admits, already growing comfortable with the idea of waking up next to her.

If they could just stay in this room, in this bed forever… Because when they leave, everything’s going to change. No matter what either of them say. Even if they don’t speak a word until they find out who lives through this.

Buffy won’t hold her hand in front of the others. Faith probably wouldn’t let her, and Buffy couldn’t even let herself. She wants to, now, before she loses the courage, but it feels too good to be wrapped up in her arms.

“I… I can do tonight,” Faith says, squeezing her shoulder. “But ask me again next Tuesday, yeah?”

She’s not sure if Faith realizes how much that means, coming from her. Telling her that yes, she wants more too, and if they can make it through this fight, she might be able to face that. Buffy can’t even imagine what it’s like for her, to have pined over her for so long, expecting nothing in return — maybe even being too afraid to have someone like her back.

Maybe, by then, Buffy will be ready to do something about it, too. Defeating a great and powerful evil… there’s always been this sense of relief — of a fresh start, of newness and relief and excitement. Maybe, instead of… impulsive wardrobe overhauls, she can do this. God, whatever it ends up being. All she knows is, Faith brings out something entirely innate in her — in both of them — and she’s sick of running from it.

But for now, there’s a girl, and her arms wrapped tight around her, and that’s enough.

“Okay.”

#faith x buffy #buffy x faith #faith lehane #buffy summers #btvs fic #btvs #fic #made #~11k words

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dustedmagazine · 1 year

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Dust Volume 9, Number 4

Photo of Angel Olsen by Luke Rogers

Dust is everywhere these days, but that’s a good thing. April may be the cruelest month, but it’s also when the release calendar swings into full gear and local concert announcements proliferate. We’ve made it through the long dark void. It’s time for beers outside and portable speakers. What are we blasting? Oh, lots of things. Australian punks and Michigan rappers, German death metalists and French composers, piano deconstructers and freaking Arto Lindsay. This month’s contributors include Jennifer Kelly, Ray Garraty, Jonathan Shaw, Bill Meyer, Tim Clarke, Ian Mathers, Patrick Masterson and Jim Marks.

Blowers — Blown Again (Chaputa!/Spooky)

Blown Again LP by BLOWERS

“Wipe My Ass” materialized in my inbox on a slow day. It came all the way from Australia with blunt force scatological humor, and yeah, I clicked on the link. Why not? It’s dead brute simple, this song, starting with a girl (also the drummer) yelling out the title phrase, and picking up first a buzzsaw guitar lick and later, the somewhat wistful, surprisingly hooky chorus of “I just want somebody…to wipe my ass.” These songs are all raging ID and very little super-ego. “Shut the Fuck Up” is catchy as hell, in the vein of Jay Reatard’s late-career, alternative-universe hits, and “Let’s Age Disgracefully” aims a firehose of guitar nose straight at the speakers, so that you have to step back a little bit. Leonard Cohen, it’s not, but if you like giddy, joke-y, irrepressible garage punk from people who can barely play their instruments, well, prepare to get blown.

Jennifer Kelly

Cellow — Ghetto Takeover (Jugg$treet)

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There is literally no information on who this guy Cellow is, and this EP won’t change the situation. In a dozen of years we will be just saying “Oh, remember that dude that did a little tape with Rio Da Yung Og?” It looks like Cellow took a deal Rio was offering before he got locked up — to record an EP with an artist for $50k — but Ghetto Takeover didn’t surface until now. After 20 listens, hardly a line written by Cellow stays in your memory, possibly due to his total lack of charisma. Rio Da Yung Og completely steals the show here, on all the tracks he’s featured, and he’s in a full ignorance mode: “Fuck Obama and I ain't vote for Trump neither \ Stupid-ass white boys, Butthead and Beavis.” It’s the Flint MC who’s taking over Ghetto Takeover, not Cellow.

Ray Garraty

Ch’Ahom — Camazotz Cult (Sentient Ruin Laboratories)

Camazotz Cult by CH'AHOM

Ahead of a new LP from German black/death band Ch’Ahom, the sharp-eared freaks at Sentient Ruin Laboratories are releasing this compilation LP, and they’ve done us a solid. Camazotz Cult is as confounding and queasy as it is unpleasantly intense, precisely the sort of thing some of us look for in underground metal. What might possess a bunch of young German dudes to disappear into the mythos of a Pre-Columbian bat god, to the extent that they are compelled to form a band to write and record songs about it? This reviewer can’t shed any light on that—and likely the reasons should remain shrouded in dank, noisome darkness. If the denizens of TikTok and Telegram are alerted to the existence of the band, the ethno-purity police will show up to lodge their complaints: some will wring hands over cultural appropriation, others in black metal circles will bum out over the idea of Northern European kids digging on gods from the Global South. So goes our contemporary conjuncture. Meanwhile, songs like “Raid of the Tzitzimime” and “Noh Ek” churn and burn. To add to the cultural confusion, Ch’Ahom have covered a few tunes by Danish wackos Sadogoat, who went on to release more music under the even more inspired name Sadomator; Ch’Ahom’s rendition of “Female Goat Perversion” is as awful as you might expect, and it’s also pretty great. For sure, it’s the right soundtrack for 2023’s latest iteration of our global shitshow. Release the bat god, please.

Jonathan Shaw

Dippers — Looking for a Sphere (Goner/Tenth Court)

Looking for a Sphere by Dippers

The Melbourne garage punk rippers known as Thigh Master made two taut and scrappy full-lengths before ending their run. Now, a couple of years later, the two principals Matthew Ford and Innez Tulloch are back under a new name, Dippers, and a greatly altered sound. Looking for a Sphere, along with the single “Tightening the Tangles” make a case for fractious jangle but also psychedelic dreaming. Dippers do both. The single, out about a month ago, hews closer to the Thigh Master template with scratchy tunefulness, jabbing guitars and a noodle-y meander of keyboards. On the Sphere EP, however, even the relative bangers are slower, sweeter and edging into a gritty variety of twee. “Mazing,” the lead-off cut, is arch and witty like the Monochrome Set, jaggedly surreal like certain Pollard songs. It cuts and slashes and tootles in a sleepy-eyed way, in line with what Terry has been up to over the last several albums. “Drift Space” is even more stretched and blissed out, with its widely space guitar chords, its long shudders of tambourine and its languid psychedelic choruses (“Inwardly imploding, the pressure inside will not worry me, turned off the air, I floated out there, then turned off the screen.”) The two instrumental tracks are the surprise however, built of long expanding synthesizer tones and harpsichord like natterings; they extend in every limpid direction from a still center. But if Mikey Young can dabble in ambient electronics—and he can—then why not Dippers? Garage punk is so much more interesting when it brings in ideas from outside.

Jennifer Kelly

Bruno Duplant — Insondables Humeurs (Granny)

Insondables Humeurs by Bruno Duplant

Bruno Duplant made nine albums in 2022, so pardon me for not getting around to writing about this one until now. Mind you, my tardiness does not mean that you should not listen. This album is part of a recent series of longform pieces on which the French composer and occasional instrumentalist has taken on the full-time task of performance. Insondables Humeurs earns its title, which translates as Unfathomable Moods. Its two tracks loom and stretch, with long harmonium drones taking plenty of time to lure the listener into a state that feels at once enveloping and uneasy. Electronic treatments, piano notes, and arhythmic percussion intrude periodically, amping up the apprehension. This is the final installment of a trilogy of sonically disparate but similarly disposed efforts; one gets the feeling that Duplant is deeply concerned about the ongoing state of things. The resulting sounds cannot be denied.

Bill Meyer

Exploding Corpse Action — Interdimensional Annihilation: Complete Transmissions 1995-1997 (Armageddon)

Inter-Dimensional Annihilation: Complete Transmissions 1995-1997 by Exploding Corpse Action

The redistribution of heavy music’s extensive back-catalog of hyper-obscure, underground releases continues apace, and sometimes one wonders about the intent. Filling in untold histories, or filling hipster collectors’ record bins? Creating archival records, or “deluxe edition” records as pricey commodities? Interdimensional Annihilation: Complete Transmissions 1995-1997 is a newly marketed collection of the relatively slim output of Albany-based death metal band Exploding Corpse Action, and the record provides a good occasion for thinking on those questions. We’ll stipulate to the excellence of the band’s name, and there’s some fun to be had; tunes like “Light Speed Impact Crater” and “Robotic Surgery Malfunction” are endearingly demented. But do we really need two marginally different takes of “Decompression: Anal Prolapse” in the interest of a “complete” set of recordings? Do we really need this record in the first place, when a quick inspection of the latest sounds on Bandcamp yields any number of death-metal-related experiences imbued with the same sort of goofball depravity? History seems to have been indifferent to the band’s existence, and none of the participants in Exploding Corpse Action went on to make more subculturally significant music. Maybe if you live in Albany, you feel differently about the band’s relative importance, and in that case, I’m sorry — not about the band, but about Albany.

Jonathan Shaw

Grandbrothers — Late Reflections (City Slang)

Late Reflections by Grandbrothers

The concept behind the fourth album by Erol Sarp and Lukas Vogel — the follow-up to 2021’s All the Unknown — is an interesting one: these ten pieces all feature grand piano as their sole sound source, recorded at night in Cologne Cathedral when the building was closed to the public. As expected, there are plenty of moments of quiet, gently reverberating reflection, building into exultant crescendos. However, what’s most surprising — and perhaps most disappointing — is that the piano is often so heavily processed as to render it indistinguishable. When crunchy beats kick in on a track like “Infinite,” one can’t help but wonder why a live kit couldn’t have been substituted instead; it certainly would have sounded more natural and more in-keeping with the album’s sound palette. Nevertheless, it’s often engrossing to follow how the duo’s multi-part compositions unfold.

Tim Clarke

Arto Lindsay — Charivari (Corbett Vs. Dempsey)

Charivari (Black Cross Solo Sessions 7) by Arto Lindsay

Three years is not so long ago. That’s how long ago that locked-down improv fans discovered, during the first Quarantine Concerts on-line festival, that Arto Lindsay had a few things to learn about adjusting the rotation of his cell phone’s video camera. The experience of watching him with a 90 degrees tilt may have obscured what a swell thing he had going, but this album will set you straight. If, like this writer, you have sometimes felt that larger settings dilute Lindsay’s singular integration of guitar noise, samba sway, and social anxiety-stirring provocation, this unaccompanied setting is the neat shot you’ve been waiting for. While occasional loops trick you into thinking that the earth’s rhythms can be trusted, marvelously jagged chunks of guitar noise topple while Lindsay croons and gasps fragments that let you know that you just don’t know. The numerologically inclined should be aware that this album is volume seven of Corbett Vs. Dempsey’s Black Cross Solo Sessions, a series of solo statements that the label commissioned from locked down artists. There are eight in all, each encased in a glossy reproduction of Christopher Wool’s titular cross. Collect ‘em, trade ‘em, but keep your bubble gum sticks away from ‘em. Inspirational lyric: “Resistance yoga.”

Bill Meyer

Mute Duo — Migrant Flocks (American Dreams)

Migrant Flocks by Mute Duo

Chicago’s Mute Duo refer to their setup (Sam Wagster on pedal steel, Skyler Rowe on drums) as a “sandbox” and their play on Migrant Flocks bears that out. Whether on the flute-assisted (courtesy of Emma Hospelhorn), expansive centerpiece “The Ocean Door,” the harder-charging “Trust Lanes” and “Landmusik” (the latter featuring Doug McCombs and Andrew Scott Young), or the more ethereal ranges of “Moon in the Flood” and the closing “Bisrāma,” the duo refuses to be pigeonholed into what you might guess a pedal-steel-and-drums record might sound like. Some of this is technique (Wagster plays more conventionally guitar-like registers at times, Rowe mostly sticks with brushes), but it’s more the varied emotional and sonic palette they wield so astutely. At times the sound touches on anyone from later-period Earth to “Mogwai Fear Satan” to the Dirty Three, but always with a quality that marks Mute Duo as their own thing, and worth watching.

Ian Mathers

Paal Nilssen-Love Circus — Pairs of Three (PNL)

Pairs of Three by Paal Nilssen-Love Circus

The Norwegian drummer and bandleader Paal Nilssen-Love has lived a pretty international life. That has influenced his choice of associates — he’s played with musicians from the USA, Japan, Ethiopia, Brazil and all around Europe — and the distances he has traveled in order to play with them. This all changed when COVID came around, and he found himself confined within his home country’s borders, but improvisation is just another way of saying you’re good at solving problems. The members of Nilsen-Love’s Circus, who convened to record this album in the summer of 2021, all live in Scandinavia, but between them they can dial up any corner of the world in a second. The music changes by the second, jumping from accordion-led chanson to agit-prop punk to timbral improv, while singer Juliana Venter similarly leaps from tongue to tongue, with digressions into back of the throat, hackle-raising extended techniques. This music is a world unto itself, full of possibility.

Bill Meyer

Nondi_ — Flood City Trax (Planet Mu)

Flood City Trax by Nondi_

Best I can find, Tatiana Triplin has been releasing music since 2014, but Flood City Trax is her first away from the netlabel she runs, HRR, as well as her first for Planet Mu (not a bad place to greet a broader audience). The years of juke, footwork and techno intake make themselves felt across this album, which trips all over itself rhythms-wise but, more than anything to me, recalls the dreamily rough, lower-fidelity beats of Actress. Triplin says this album is inspired by the moods of her hometown of Johnstown, Penn., a place (in)famous for its flooding, and suggesting the music doesn’t carry with it some of that water weight, conscious or otherwise, would be misleading. More tangible than vaporwave but less fully submerged than Drexciya, Nondi_’s most prominent, cohesive album statement is also one of the year’s most excitingly pleasant surprises in the realm of electronic music.

Patrick Masterson

Angel Olsen — Forever Means EP (Jagjaguwar)

Forever Means by Angel Olsen

For all of the ambition and willingness to push further stylistically that Angel Olsen has exhibited in the last half a decade, it’s clear she’s never lost sight of her greatest strengths: deftly sensitive songwriting and that otherworldly voice. Dipping her toes into the swollen decadence of All Mirrors or the ‘80s synthpop cosplay of Aisles remain diversions from her more traveled roads beaten with a guitar and a mic that can handle her pipes. The Olsen I fell in love with was Burn Your Fire for No Witness, and she seems to have come back around on that more restrained swagger lately with the All Mirrors reworkings Whole New Mess, last year’s excellent, settling Big Time and, now, leftovers from those sessions in the form of Forever Means. The sax and organ solos that run out of gas on “Nothing’s Free” and the afterthought of a trumpet on “Time Bandits” feel like failed flourishes, so you can see why she dropped them, but the title track is as good as she gets and none of these four tracks is obviously lacking for quality. No matter how much change she goes through — and heaven knows she’s had plenty of that recently — her gifts shine brightest when there’s less to hide them behind. The center continues to hold.

Patrick Masterson

ShaunMusiq, Ftears & Xduppy — “Bhebha (Feat. Myztro, Mellow & Sleazy, QuayR Musiq & Matuteboy)” (Kgaday)

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The reigning sound of South Africa has been amapiano for several years now, and understandably so: Its relaxed rhythmic pace, airy melodies and “the pianos” from which the genre derives its name allow for plenty of creative space. One name taking recent advantage of the style is ShaunMusiq, who’s had a small but solid stream of singles since 2021’s SkrrThang II and here heads up a crew remixing a song that’s been blowing out cheap car subs and irritating parents around Pretoria since 2005. It won’t surprise you to learn this blew up via TikTok and that’s probably the impetus for this official video, which belatedly arrives a month out from the single’s release, but what might surprise you is how heavy that bass rolls as the three protagonists pass sleepy bars off to one another in the Bantu Tsonga language. Heavier still is just how committed this video is: From the dancers to the decked out Toyota Hiace, nothing’s left on the table. Get in, loser: We’re going to whatever party puts this on loudest.

Patrick Masterson

Silver Moth — Black Bay (Bella Union)

Black Bay by Silver Moth

The band Silver Moth is a pandemic-era coming together of Stuart Braithwaite (Mogwai) and his wife, singer-songwriter Elisabeth Elektra; singer-songwriter Evi Vine, plus her guitarist Steven Hill and multi-instrumentalist Ben Roberts; Abrasive Trees guitarist Andrew Rochford; and Ash Babb, drummer in Burning House and Academy of the Sun. The seven musicians convened at Black Bay studio on the Isle of Lewis in Scotland for a short stint of writing and recording, and these six songs are the result. Given it was all pulled together in the studio, the coherence is impressive, especially on opener “Henry,” which sounds like Mogwai fronted by Beth Gibbons, and “Mother Tongue,” which has the airy, exploratory feel of Meg Baird. The second half of the record is dominated by the 15-minute “Hello Doom” (a very Mogwai song title), which sounds exactly as you might imagine, searing fuzz guitar and all. Though occasionally lacking in its own distinct personality, there’s definitely sufficient chemistry on Black Bay for further Silver Moth music if the band has the time and inclination.

Tim Clarke

Skooly — “08 Wayne” (The Real U)

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Lil Wayne recently passed through Chicago on tour, and reports from the evening have it that he was rapping songs here he hadn’t touched in years (if ever). For hip-hop fans who’ve struggled with the genre’s post-Drake decentralization, it was a nice reminder of simpler times when it was easy to tell who was on top — and who knows, maybe Weezy’s “I’m Me” tour was the impetus for Kazarion Fowler’s latest single, too. The former Rich Kidz member would’ve turned 14 in 2008, so while more wizened heads might have it that Wayne’s peak was a year or two earlier, Skooly’s of the age to speak with authority that in high school hallways, there was no doubting Wayne’s imperial phase was in full effect by the year in question. Skooly doesn’t look to ape that level of language-busting dexterity, instead opting for a confident sing-song lilt with an irresistible chorus that wraps on “Cold propane / This shit is dope cocaine / I feel like ‘08 Wayne” while Buddah Bless tinkles his way across the ivories and adds just a touch of funked up synthesizer for color. In every respect, this is one to feel good about.

Patrick Masterson

Sounding Society — Homecoming Medley or Society Into Sound (Gotta Let It Out)

HOMECOMING MEDLEY or SOCIETY INTO SOUND by SOUNDING SOCIETY

Man, will somebody please burp the matrix? There’s a glitch in the circuits. How else might one explain this anomaly? The cover, which is proudly proclaimed to be AI-generated, looks like the glossy cover of a 1980s-vintage sci-fi paperback. And the sounds? At first, the music sounds like a gear-inclusive (i.e., digital and analog) retro take on New Age-tinged keyboard soundtrackery. But as the music progresses, some non-ironic improvisational chops steer the music on a less predictable, if still essentially groovy, course. Several explorational interludes and one video game parlor breakdown later, you’re left wondering just what went down. Explanation — drummer-bandleader Tomo Jacobson spends much of his time in more straight-faced, jazz-oriented settings. It would seem that you can take the jazz man out of the club, but you can’t take the creative restlessness out of his heart.

Bill Meyer

Erik Sowa — Cedar Lake Recordings Vol. 1 (Sliptoh)

Cedar Lake Recordings Vol .1 by Erik Sowa

Chicagoans will recognize Eric Sowa as a drummer who pops up in both roots and improv contexts, to make these recordings, he headed to an off-the-grid location in northern Minnesota. No electricity? No problem, he just humped a car battery to power the recording gear, along with his drums, stringed instruments and bellows-driven organ. All that trouble would be for naught if it didn’t help capture the vibe, but Sowa has gotten it right. One supposes that it took considerable concentration to self-record a virtual ensemble that feels so naturally loose. Each tune represents a modest amount of rustic headspace, and then makes way for the next.

Bill Meyer

Dick Stusso — S.P. (Hardly Art)

S.P. by Dick Stusso

Dick Stusso distorts 1970s guitar rock through a prism, twisting blues-rock riffs into haunted litanies. His big hollowed out baritone floats elegantly through post-Waits-ian junk shop arrangements, posing, preening, italicizing every line. You can hear faint sirens through the piano bar chords of “Self Reflection (Deep).” The title screams sarcasm, but Stusso plays it relatively straight. It’s a AOR ballad turning slightly green at the edges, blown out with ghostly “woo-woo” counterparts and ending with a curdled R&B solo vocal that sounds like Merry Clayton but broken and harsh. I should mention that that’s Grace Cooper of the Sandwitches, one of the reigning queens of West Coast lofi and a long-time collaborator with Stusso. His father, the jazz saxophonist Marc Russo (Stusso’s real name is Nic Russo), makes an appearance in “Garbagedump #1,” a sloppy-drunk cakewalk treading unsteadily on second-hand-shop boogie. These 18 songs are brief but vividly imagined, throwing up film noir sound-stage vistas that are convincing unless you look at them from the side.

Jennifer Kelly

Harry Taussig — 80 (Tompkins Square)

80 by Harry Taussig

Harry Taussig is Takoma school royalty. His first recordings appeared on John Fahey’s celebrated Takoma Park record label, and his most recent have been for Tompkins Square, beginning with tracks on the seminal Imaginational Anthem series. His small catalog includes three releases over the past 10 years, the name of this one commemorating his 80th birthday. The compositions, played unaccompanied and without overdubbing on six- and 12-string acoustic guitar and five-string banjo, tend to bear titles suggestive of classical music (which Taussig cites as a primary influence in the liner notes), such as “Etude for in G Major #7.” Most have an improvisational feel, though comparison of alternate takes indicates that they are constructed with care. All three instruments sound open-tuned, as the five-string banjo usually is and as is common in the Takoma school style. Taussig has never been flashy, and his deliberate and at times hesitant approach has helped him to age somewhat more gracefully as a player than Fahey did. There is a craggy beauty to 80 well represented by the brooding photograph on the cover. Here’s hoping an 85 and a 90 will be forthcoming.

Jim Marks

Unlearn and MP Shaw—Secret Listener (Farallon)

Secret Listener by Unlearn & MP Shaw

Bright rounded bloops of synthetic sound bob in gentle syncopation, in the uncanny valley’s muted version of funk. Two Seattle-born, SF-based electronic artists—Matthew Shaw and James Key—made this disc during the lockdown casting dystopic dread into billow-y, unearthly shadows on the wall. Thus, their “Dusting the Astral Plane” grooves in a well-cushioned, unconfrontational way; picture an actual robot doing the robot, but slowly and bathed in magic hour twilight. Two “TLR” cuts serve as whooshing, enveloping meditation breaks, the soft clarity of keyboards surging then subsuming into ambient hiss. “Article One” lists woozily on blotty smudges of synth sound, the sharp click of rhythm clattering through. All of these cuts drift and loom, the dance beats wrapped in gauzy, indeterminant tone-washes. It’s more of a pencil drumming, space-staring, transcendental vibe than anything hedonistic or physical, but very nice all the same.

Jennifer Kelly

Youniss — White Space (Viernulvier)

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So what exactly distinguishes a very short album from an EP? Formal considerations like number of tracks don’t really work, and ultimately it’s just going to come down to the feel of the thing. In White Space’s case, the second album from Antwerp-based Youniss holds together strongly enough as a significant statement that neither the 20-minute runtime nor the almost beat tape-esque patchwork of these ten tracks are drawbacks. Whether going full aggro (particularly on the redlined, snapped-off “Arms Bent Back”), more atmospheric on the instrumentals “Negative Space” and “Walad,” or fully embracing a melancholy of dislocation on “SO SLOW” and “Sinking,” White Space packs a lot of sonic texture and grappling with serious issues (race, perspective, artistry, context) in a brief space. All that and it’ll consistently get your head nodding? That’s an album.

Ian Mathers

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foster-the-moths · 1 year

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oooo dont know anything abt pacific rim but hell yeah 👀

its just "humans use big robots to fight big monsters" basically LMAO but i realized it had some parallels to tmc so. i got a bit silly lol. putting it under a readmore bc its Long

brief pacific rim summary for those unaquainted: bascially monsters start appearing from the ocean and fucking shit up so humans make these big robots to fight them BUT its really dangerous and requires 2 people who are 'drift compatible' to pilot them (basically its the ability to control a big robot with ur mind while also being in sync). thats all u really need to know for this au i think

pacific rim au: this is based purely off of my memories of the first movie (which. i watched when it first came out in uhhh 2013!!!??!?! THIS MOVIE CAME OUT IN 2013??? 10YEAR AGO A DECADE??? WHAT THE FUCKanyways. um. i'm probably missing some stuff but whatever<3 -kaijus become a thing in like. idk 1980 or so. -by the time mark and cesar are 18 the big robots exist. what are they called. JAEGERS thats it. -mark and cesar get sort of. drafted into testing it out and find out they are drift compatible!! -i think in this au they are besties but. they could be worsties. maybe. perhaps toxic if thats what canon says. but in the origin draft of the au they are besties so im going with that -anyways they fight kaijus for a bit and they are pretty good at it!! until a kaiju attacks their hometown (or something. idk how an ocean beast would get to wisconsin. WAIT lake superior AND lake michgan flank wisconsin i can use this) -okay so. a kaiju comes out of the great lakes and the government is like"???? THEY CAN DO THAT??? fuck." and send mark and cesar to deal with it since they. live there -everything goes to shit when a kaiju (altcesar) attacks mandela, their hometown, and ALSO where sarah is!!! and shes like. 5 or smth -so mark is SUPER stressed out, his sister might be dead already, and to top it off?? the kaiju can like. idk hijack their drift link or whatever idk still working on that. im trying to incorporate alternate bs into how kaijus work -anyways mark is the one the kaiju targets and it uses cesar's voice/image to fuck him up and both cesar and mark die. and sarah watches it happen. oops. -sidenote: altcesar kaiju is based off of the crab one. bc sarah is loosely based off of the main protag girl in the movie whats her name. MAKO MORI. apparently. she watches her brother die + entire county get destroyed -another sidenote: since secar apparently DOESN'T die in canon. maybe he survives in this au?? mark is dead as hell tho :(( -anyways sarah is so so traumatized by that. however she is also VERY FUCKING ANGRY because uh. turns out mark and cesar were not the only ones patrolling winconsin!! thatcher and ruth were meant to be back up but uh. they. did NOT get there in time. and sarah thinks maybe if they had gotten there in time mark wouldn't have died. -speaking of those two. ANOTHER kaiju attacks mandela not too long after altcesar does and um. thatcher and ruth DO go out to deal with it but. ruth gets knocked unconscious during the fight. and thatcher can't wake her up. so half of their jaeger is just powered down and stationary while the kaiju rips its arms off and tears into the cockpit. eventually thatcher realizes he has to evacuate to save himself. he tries to bring ruth with him but he can't. -needless to say. thatcher is DEVASTATED. he feels like a coward, even if he DID follow protocol, and he never really forgives himself for leaving ruth behind. dave supports him through it, but. he never really recovers after that.

-…and fast foward 17 years, to the actual events of the au!! -bps is founded by sarah to um. idk actually i have NO fucking clue what they are doing in this au but it IS just. VERY ILLEGAL. and they get caught -however, the government can find literally nobody to pilot the giant murder death trap robots due to A) how rare a drift link (or. whatever its called im 99% sure its called that) is and B) nobody wants to fucking do that. so they just decided to say "hey. you guys are criminals. BUT if you go in the giant death trap robot AND you can pilot it then we'll forgive your criminal charges!! :)" because of course they would do that -anyways. bps agrees to this. and it turns out jonah and adam are drift compatible!! hooray!! they get to pilot a jaeger together -…which leaves sarah. due to testing her against adam and jonah, the government knows she CAN connect to a jaeger, and pilot one. she just needs a partner. -which is were thatcher comes in. he takes the place of the guy whos brother dies in the movie. -sarah is NOT FUCKING HAPPY about this. the moment she recognizes him she freaks OUT. immediately starts chewing him out. -however, she does have a deal to uphold, and she has to at least TRY to pilot the jaeger with thatcher. so they do a testrun and. it turns out they ARE compatible. -so with that the government goes "okay cool we're sending all of you to the faciltiy (or whatever idk)" and. sarah fights this tooth and nail until she realizes they. really don't give a shit LMAO -so she's stuck with thatcher. and her two idiot coworkers but thatcher is the real issue. -so they get shipped over to the training facility and. start training. -dave and evelin take the place of those two gay scientists. dave has so many kaiju tattoos n shit and evelin is just Normal. just kidding shes weird too shes just better at hiding it lol. evelin is officially his 'assistant' and mentor but dave treats her as an equal. they are silly scientist coworkers -dave and thatcher are also still friends. not sure if its strained or not but i dont think it is they can be silly. besties even. -i also think dave is sarahs estranged but still on good terms uncle. hes is ESTATIC to see sarah!! she hates that hes friends with thatcher but she is literall incapable of being mad at dave so she just takes it out on thatcher instead LMAO -also dave sits thatcher down and is like "y'know i think this is good for you actually. being a mentor figure really helped me w moving on i think you could really bond with my cool awesome neice :D!" "dave she tries to kill me every ten seconds" -anyways the au centers around sarah and her relationship with thatcher from one-sided enemies to eventual found family :)

other things: -adam glows in the dark and is just sort of fucked up. surely this means nothing (he is not entirely human) -oh yeah jude and lynn are killed by the same alternate that kills ruth. i think. or it was six but when thatcher and ruth are sent out altthatcher double teams them and thats why they failed. -vol 2 sort of happens (the girls are fighting) but jonah does NOT die. -dave gets hooked up to a kaiju brain like the guy in the movie and like. his brain implodes a little bit and his eyes bleed but hes (mostly) fine^^ -all of the alternates are kaijus i get to be soooooo silly with designs :3 -dave and sarah lost contact when sarah started bps so they are very happy to reunite -i am just making shit up about a movie i saw a literal decade ago so. um. im probably missing a lot of important stuff but oh well lol. -i also have a barebones alt version of this au where everyone lives and nothing bad happens and they just fight monsters. bc i got sad.

#i went back and added some stuff with the context of vol4+catalyst but its mostly the same #feel free to send asks if u wanna know more i need to flesh it out more #tmc pacific rim au #asks #also i dont think i have to clarify this but. no ships in this. all platonic.#just saying this bc the characters in the movie DO have pretty important romantic relationships but. that does not transfer over to the au

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countrymusiclover · 10 months

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88 - Bloodline Deals

Part 89

Gemini Runaway

@icefrye19 @secretdreamlandmentality

Walking down the staircase I held my phone between my shoulder and my ear shrugging on my gray jacket. "Caroline, hey. I’m sorry that we just had to leave so suddenly. But my brother called asking for help.”

“Don’t apologize for that. You and Jacob have nearly gone through hell and back for each other. So if he calls you have to help him.” She responded through the phone until she put it on video showing her already growing baby bump.

Covering my mouth with my freehand I gasped grinning at her. “That’s crazy, Care. I’m happy for you though. If you ever need to rant about something. I’m your girl.”

“There is one thing that is annoying. The weird cravings and the desire to have alcohol. Since it helps with my craving for blood.” She ran a hand through her hair sighing heavily.

Throwing my head back I laughed remembering the torture during those months. “Oh my god. I hated that. Anyway don’t judge for me asking this but how are you that far along. It’s only been like two months since we came back here.”

“According to Valerie the heretic doctor. She thinks that maybe your uncle used his magic before he died to speed up the pregnancy. I’m not really sure. But enough about me.” The blonde vampire shook her head.

Walking down the last step of the staircase I noticed Hayley walking in the doorway. She hadn’t left her daughter's side for months while we tried to figure out this stuff with the Hollow. “It’s a long story but basically there’s a dead girl who wants more power than she already has. Hey Care, I have to let you go. Hayley just got here.”

“Tell her hi for me. Bye Rae.” She waved to me before I put my phone in my back pocket.

Hayley sat down at a table covered with a bunch of creamy treats that Klaus had rewarded the girls with after they saved our lives from Davina trying to kill him. “I guess apple turnover is a fruit.”

“Uh sorry that’s Nik’s treat. He literally compelled the owner to give over the entire candy shop. Anyway I’m sorry to call you here when you are concerned for Andrea. But you’re the only person Davina told more about the Hollow to.” Sitting down in a chair I pulled up I stared at her.

She brushed hair out of her face. “From what she told me it turns out that the werewolf curse was created by the Hollow. Which was surprising.”

“Dang that curse goes back that far. That makes her as strong as the Original Witch Esther.” I gasped, parting my lips. “That’s honestly something I worried about for Alina. She has her father’s temper but she isn’t always in control of it.”

The brunette wolf leaned up taking a bite out of one of the many desserts. “Have you told Klaus yet about the whole marriage thing?”

“I’m assuming Jacob finally told you about that. It was supposed to be Andrea but she’s only just now started to show her magical ability. And we won’t know if she’s half wolf until she accidentally kills someone. Regardless, we're getting off topic.” I crossed my arms over my chest leaning back in my chair.

She took another bite. “Fine, okay. She also said that my bloodline is what can kill the Hollow-“

“I knew it could be killed!” Hitting my hands on the table I interrupted her. “Sorry, sorry, continue.”

The crescent werewolf nodded. “Yeah so…I am the last of my line so if I die then the Hollow will come after my daughter. Even though she already is considering it, she can probably feel the magic running through her blood. I just don’t know what to do about it.”

“Wait a second. Davina is the link to the ancestors' magic. Maybe we can talk to them about how to stop her.” Resting my elbows on the table I leaned towards her.

Hayley finished her dessert by wiping her hands on her jeans. “We could try but I doubt they’ll be willing to help your daughters who they tried to kill as infants.”

“That may be true, but they didn’t harm your daughter. So if you asked they could be open to the right proposal.” Placing my hand over hers she lifted her gaze to meet mine.

She nodded silently for a moment. “Thank you for helping me, Raelyn. You know I came here looking for my family when I was alone. But I don’t feel alone anymore.”

“You don’t have to feel alone ever again. Cause the thing with this family is that they always look out for one another.” Squeezing her hands, we heard angry footsteps vamp down the stairs.

“Raelyn, why is that old wolf woman blowing up your phone!” Whipping my head around I threw my hair that was in a ponytail around seeing my husband in a mood.

Hayley removed her hands from mine exiting the compound. “I’m going to go. Call me later, Raelyn.”

Once I could hear her footsteps were further off in the distance I slowly stepped towards him. “Nik, before you get angry like you most likely will. Just keep in mind that I didn’t have a choice.”

“What does she want?” His tone grew deeper within seconds.

Putting my hands together over my mouth I sighed heavily thinking. “In order to bring you and your siblings back together we had to make a deal with Mary. She had the last known location of the werewolf that we needed blood from-“

“Raelyn, what was the deal you made!” He stepped closer where our chests were pressed up against one another.

Meeting his gaze I saw the golden color breaking through showing he was going to snap once I told him. “Klaus, just calm down - uh”

“Just tell me, Raelyn!” He grabbed me by my shoulders where I sucked in a breath sharply.

Sniffing through tears under his strong werewolf grip I pushed him backwards, blurting it out. “She wants Alina to marry her son Jackson and bring the werewolf packs together. It was supposed to be Andrea but she just started showing that she has magic.”

“You sealed our daughter's fate to a bayou wolf. Did you ever consider that this boy might not be up to our standards!” Klaus raised his voice shouting through the house.

Vamping up into his face I growled. “I did what I had to do to get you back, Niklaus! I couldn’t bear another year without you. It was utter torture!”

“You want to talk about torture, Rae!” He shouted in my face, flashing his fangs and golden eyes down at me. Yet he turned his back to me wiping away tears with his arm. “The water in the pipes was like nails on a chalkboard. I was starving. I could smell the blood from the people on the street above me, I could hear their heartbeats. My own mind turned against me. It was taunting me. It was relentless. The first few weeks were the worst.”

Slowly walking towards him I put a hand on his shoulder hoping he was calmer now. “Nik, I’m sorry. I just didn’t see another way. Besides Alina and Jackson have been friends for a little while. It’s not planning to happen until they are older. Please just say something.”

“I’m going to kill that werewolf mother Mary.” He started to head towards the door.

Raising my hand into a fist I stopped him in his tracks. “Immobilus.”

“Uh Rae. Could you please stop using magic as a cheat.” He grumbled under his breath.

Rounding him until we were standing face to face again I still held my hand up in the air. His eyes returned to their normal baby blues. “Are you going to behave and not kill her? Otherwise I will leave you here until I get back.”

“I’ll behave, love.” He mumbles softly.

Waving my hand I released the spell off of him spinning on my heels heading to the middle of the bayou. “Regelo. Let’s go, Nik.” The walk there was pretty silent until we walked up onto her front porch. Seeing the elder werewolf preparing for dinner in her kitchen.

“What do you want?” Mary stopped cutting her tomatoes seeing my husband and I standing in the doorway.

My husband put his hands on the side of the door smiling at her. “Well we could start with some common courtesy. You could invite me and my wife here inside.”

“Not likely, vampire.” She snapped at him.

He raised his head, smirking at her. “I’m a hybrid dear. And so is my darling wife here. I am half wolf. We could be distant relatives for all you know.”

“Mary, please invite us inside. You called about our deal and I am here to discuss it with you.” I stepped in front of my husband giving her a small pout.

She sat her knife down on the countertop turning to face us head on. “Fine. Come in.”

Klaus gestured with his hand for me to go first with a smile. I nodded, stepping over the threshold and he followed afterwards shutting the door behind us with his foot. “See that wasn’t too hard to be neighborly.”

“Nik.” I sent him a glare when Mary made a disgruntled look towards his remark.

Mary headed into her tiny living room and we followed after her. She sat down in one of the recliner chairs with us on the couch. “So you’re okay with all this, hybrid?”

“Oh no. On the contrary I’d rather rip out your vocal cords for trying to wed my daughter to your wolf bayou son.” Klaus rested one hand on the side of the couch snarky.

I kicked my husband in the leg where he groaned, biting his lip. “What did I say back at the house!” I whispered under my breath at him with a deep glare.

“Oh come on.” He rolled his eyes.

Clasping my hands together I focused on the older werewolf. “Sorry about him, Mary. He’s a bit overprotective when it comes to our daughters. Given the circumstances you’ve seen with us I think you can understand why.”

“Yes. I’ve heard your story. The original hybrid and his heretic girl. I’m shocked there ain’t more tales of blood between the two of you combined.” She responded back.

Klaus leaned down resting his elbows on his knees. “Tell me Mary. If you despise our kind so much why even consider switching from her brother's daughter to ours hmm?”

“Klaus.” I scolded him.

Mary held up a hand. “Don’t worry about him asking questions, Raelyn. He has a right to ask questions. But it doesn't mean he will like the answer. The reason I agreed to the switch is because I have been watching Alina and my son together. They’re happy and I don’t want to break that up. I’ll accept that she has your vampire blood in her as long as you don’t do anything to break up their marriage.”

“We will do our best, Mary. Thank you.” I smiled towards the werewolf leader.

My husband sat upright grasping my hand while holding our hands on his thigh. “I’m curious at what age do you wish for them to have this wedding ceremony. You do recall my daughter is only the age of nine and Jackson is ten.”

“When they are adults preferably. Now it is about dinner time so I am going to ask you to leave.” She rose to her feet heading towards the front door, opening it for us.

Walking out the door I dragged my husband out of the house before he could cause trouble. “Thank you, Mary. Invidia.”

“What the bloody hell was that for. I behaved myself with no violence.” Raising my freehand Klaus winced holding the side of his head.

Lowering my hand I sent him a half smile squeezing his hand in mine as we walked back to the compound and through the woods. “Threats still count as not behaving. I know you’re worried. I am too. But if they’re happy that’s all that matters.”

“Fine, fine. I just want her to be safe and happy. Just like you are.” He leans forward giving me a kiss on the forehead making me smile.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

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onyourhyuck · 2 years

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Dangerous Alliance. | l.hc (M) PT THREE.

synopsis; bae sarang looks nothing special on the outside, has black thick glasses and wears her thick black hair in a raw clip. ‘typical nerd’ people would describe her. but when she goes back home bae sarang is a genius hacker with high level of IQ. one day, she ends up hacking into a mafia security breach. Boy, did she regret it because her life was about to change for the worse.

warnings; mafia au, hacker au, smut!! No minors, mature language, mention of bad health, angst is here, enemies to lovers, denial, slow slow slowww burn, bae sarang is a sarcastic bbg and we love that <333, sarang really doesn’t take shit from men LMAO, haechan is an ass, fighting scenes, action is a major genre here because mafia ayo. slight comedy to break the tension.

✧;── table of contents ──; ✧

╭ ⁞ ❏. masterlist to other chapters.

┊ ⁞ ❏. next chapter: part 4 link.

┊ ⁞ ❏. previous chapter: part 2 link.

── ⳮⷤ ── ⲇ ── ⳮⷤ ──

turns out sarang has hacked into the mafia, for once sarang wishes she wasn’t smart for her own sake and safety.

she was reckless and cocky thinking she can do whatever she wants just because she hasn’t been caught ever hacking into tons of breeches.

“can you at least give me cola instead of this mucky water?” sarang scowls to the guards that were standing outside her cell that their damn leader locked her up in as if she were some prisoner!

no response heard, sarang sighs. “fine, i’ll die of thirst then.” with that being said she gazed around the cell. she was sat on a rock cold floor, it’s hella cold so she purposely has no freaking blanket or anything. food was basically expired food and the water probably is poisoned.

no cameras however…and the guards had keys behind their gear where she can easily reach behind without them noticing if the other guard left.

sarang’s eyes lit up, a mischievous plan A was set in motion. ‘oh hell yeah, we’re breaking outta here bae sarang.’

the girl grabs a hold of the glass full of the greeny transparent oil-like water, in motion she quickly spilled it on the second guard and then fall on the knees quickly with a gasp, crashing glass splattering on the rock hard earth’s ground. “Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry, i fell against the rock flooring..” sarang said looking down submissively, although it was an act, it was really believable in their eyes, she purse hands together in praying forgiveness motion back and forth.

the soldier glares with complaints, tucking the water off the clothes in disgust. “god I can’t wait till boss executes her. what an annoying klutzy bitch.” the soldier left his post leaving only one soldier with the keys available to stay back and guard the cell as his back faced against the cell bars so casually, how stupid of him being so open in front of sarang.

she smirks getting up slowly as her slim hands with ease fit through the bars as she got the keys unzipped from the gear.

it was quietly done as she then grabs a hold of the broken glass shreds from earlier when the cup dropped in the act. the large shred of spiky glass immediately used to stab the guy from behind on the vulnerable pressure points leaving the person paralysed.

sarang might be a hacker but she played many fighting action oriented games, at this point it was a defensive manner. sarang had to kill someone for the first time and she couldn’t bother and feel sorry for doing this when they literally have guns! and have her kidnapped.

It’s either kill or be killed, sarang knew this. The intimidating tan man earlier who held the title ‘mafia leader’ gazed down to sarang with malicious dangerous killing intent, he will kill sarang in the future or in present reality currently.

the cell creeks open.

she got out of the jail, left the dead guard in the cell too. sarang had no idea where she’s going but she took the guard’s loaded gun carrying it around.

the dungeon was something out of game of thrones if sarang had to describe it. The young student shuffles in the shadows, making sure to avoid everything and everyone. sarang was the prey here, not the predator. one slight fuck up and the girl is dinner to the stray wolves in the woods. If we were to go for the mafia stereotype, sarang can imagine torture— painful slow deaths awaiting her, or the grim repeat waiting for death to strike so he could collect the poor holy soul of hers.

she might be cynical, but she doesn’t want to die young. sarang is only nineteen.

the light escaped at the entrance where sarang was able to leave the dungeon, a plaster of sunlight emitting on sarang’s body. the figure shifts quickly running to one of the cars that belong to the soldiers possibly.

seriously who puts a dungeon middle of nowhere? sarang was quick to break the car’s window by the hem edge gun, slamming it down with ease. the girl did this to be able to unlock the door and go inside, sarang has clearly alerted attention by the guards that began running towards her.

she gasps pushing the hair pins, jamming in the keyholes to restart the vehicle, starting the running car. the soldiers shout. “stop the car! stop her!”

sarang reversed the car backwards accidentally running over a few of the soldiers behind, she shouts. “holy shit sorry!” sarang apologies, driving forward roughly, screeching wheels spitting forward dirt on the soldiers as the car plugged side to side driving fast away.

few soldiers tried running to keep up with the car until it truly became tiring, them holding the knees.

chenle heavily breathed out loud, he was one of the people that chased the car and lost badly. “fuck!” the Chinese curses hitting the air. “haechan’s going to kill me.” chenle screams.

renjun falls to the ground holding in a breathe, he were panting looking up to chenle. “yeah we’re done for.”

the older Chinese man glances in surprise to notice a small red beeping linger on his work phone, renjun lightly laughing. a miracle has truly been given to them…

“maybe we aren’t done for anymore, chenle-yah.” renjun spoke darkly, chenle eyeing the other chinese with eyebrow raise— did they perhaps get lucky? They in fact did.

renjun smirks. “call haechan.”

the car stops in front of the apartment, it is currently ten o’clock at night, extremely dark outside to the point sarang felt like she were in a thriller action based film, but make it reality.

sarang checks the perimeter, looking around cautiously when she got out of the car quietly, holding the gun close.

when the cost was clear, the streets were solitary, street lamps lighting the darkness enough for sarang to move inside the apartment. she took the quicker way which is the lift and then walking down the long eerily dark quiet hallway, sarang stops in front of the white bland door with the number A007.

the girl slowly lifts the door passcode upwards to type the password very carefully, sudden gut feeling that left sarang feeling like she were walking on pure eggshells, as if something was badly going to go down. the girl brushed those feelings as her hers look behind her shoulder, nothing, it must be nothing right?

door openly slowly, everything seemed in place despite there was no light turned on. only purple-ish blue darkness cantering out of the large apartment windows, other windows with black blinds covering them. the place was clean, neat. sarang softly sighs in relief as the body manurers around the place, going to the middle centre.

CLICK.

the light welcomes a long slim figure sitting on the chair in middle of the large tv screen and sofa behind him, the person man spreading those long legs in t tightly black skinny ripped jeans, wearing a black leather jacket and white-ripped style oversized shirt. black mullet locks covering those dark gazing eyes hovering at the sight of sarang’s shock entitled expression; both arms resting their elbows on his thighs as he was spreading them wide, hands linking together under the chin. those evil moles haunting above the tan glowing skin, the attractive dangerous man wearing silver chains and rings.

he was waiting for her.

sarang’s throat went dry, immediately pointing the gun at haechan who did not react whatsoever, he were still like a statue, the gun also being the only protection.

the voice lingers forward in a judgemental condescending laugh, soft spoken but deadly. Sounding of a innocent flower but a completely poisonous. “My my, i was waiting for you. what took you so long?” sarang grits teeth at his words. “how’d you find me?”

did he predict sarang to escape? how could he possibly be ten steps ahead?

haechan’s bland unreadable lips began to shape in a smirk as those corner lips lift upwards, eyebrows becoming less tense but rather amused in archways, nose flaring softly, eyes squinting at the girl’s words marking them one by one. “the car has a tracker on.”

sarang’s eyes widen when haechan stood up from the chair, hands tucked in front pockets of the skinny jeans, he tilts his head at the girl’s gun. He saw sarang backing away every time his body takes one step forward.

sarang going backwards, haechan kept closing in. “you know,” the man’s voice trails the more their bodies kept backing away despite each step was taken— it was as if they were a rollercoaster about to go downhill extremely badly. “I’m so tempted to kill you right here. it will be so easy to paint it as a suicide for the public eye and police, i’ll make it look like a pathetic attempt to waste away your life.”

“or, maybe you want me to keep you alive but reveal those dangerous hackings you did on the fbi Hm? maybe you’ll spend your time rotting in prison, suffering deeply. Your future plans out of the window.” haechan spat deeply enticing to sarang, the girl flinches when her back hit the cold straight wall. the gun pointing at haechan’s chest, on the centre. despite the gun being loaded and pointing at him, he wasn’t scared. He was cocky, arrogant— reckless, impulsive and he knew who was in control. He was.

sarang’s eyesbrows furrow harshly at those horrible words he explained in such detail, he loves seeing sarang in misery. haechan giggles. “you pick, I’ll be pleased either way!” he told.

“I won’t pick for shit, bastard.” sarang shouts, haechan putting a hand over the girl’s neck tightly squeezing it. “oh but you will, because you’ll do as i say.”

sarang shifts the gun towards haechan’s forehead, the boy laughing. “you’ll shoot me? do it, i dare you.” haechan tells, tempting sarang completely; but she knew if she shot him, she will get framed for murder and the walls already as thin as they are, a gunshot would be impossible to avoid and locate here.

the girl notices a figure behind haechan, a sort of shadow move suddenly around in black long cloak. sarang tilts her head at the figure that was impossible to look and identify, the mafia leader was busy staring at sarang awaiting an answer.

“if you’re trying to scare me it’s not going to work.” haechan replied uninterested, this old trick won’t work on him. his head turns around wondering what sarang was paying her attention to, but once he turned a baseball to his head knocked the man out instantly.

sarang screams in shock before being dropped down unconscious by an injection with a weird liquid on the side of her neck. The effect of the drug paralysing sarang’s body the moment it jabbed her in the neck, eyelids shutting down into deep slumber.

who could possibly be this person? another enemy? if so, where and what’s going to happen to them? Stay in tune to find out in the next chapter!

✁- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“please refer from translating, copyrighting and plagiarising my work, thank you!”

╰─▸ ❝ @onyourhyuck has. . . . logged off.

˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰ᥕᥱᥣᥴ᥆꧑ᥱ t᥆ Dangerous Alliance.꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #nct series #haechan smut #nct masterlist #haechan hard hours #haechan fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct hard hours #nct u scenarios

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overobsessedfanboy23 · 1 year

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Yugioh Main Girls Ranked

(Like actually ranking their characters this time, not roasting their hair.)

Because I've decided I shall rank these shows in every possible way besides the shows themselves until I'm ready for that behemoth. Lead girls first cuz that's way easier for me than ranking the main protagonists. (No idea how to rank Yuma, Yuya, and Yuga right now to be honest.) And also cuz I'm a gentleman and ladies first and all that jazz. This ranking is just based on how much I like them as characters, not how well or poorly they were handled by the writers, which is blatantly obvious from the fact that Romin isn't number 1 on this list. Sorry Romin, you are the objective factual best, I’m just biased. (Also I’m using whichever name I’m more used to using which is usually the sub, deal with it.) Here's the list:

7 Tea Gardner

You know, I love green tea. It's a tasty drink. It's actually a bit of a comfort drink for me. This Tea however is not comforting or a drink... Whatever the hell the latter means.

Anyways, Tea is fucking boring and annoying. She does nothing but spout generic friendship speeches and nag and be in two stupid love triangles. The closest thing she has to a character arc is that love triangle bullshit which isn't even resolved at the end. I don't like her.

In DM at least, she's honestly okay in Dark Side of Dimensions, I like that she actually pursues her dream of dancing and yeets herself away from her friends to get there. That's nice. She's still the worst though. Yeah, I think even Kotori was an improvement. Speaking of which:

6 Kotori Mizuki

Kotori basically has the same problems as Tea but is executed a little better. Her love triangle of basically just her and Cathy fighting over Yuma is actually resolved this time with her and Cathy even becoming friends which is really cute. I really like their slow burn friendship, it's a nice detail. And Yuma and Kotori are also friends. Like we see them as friends, it's not just Kotori watching him and thinking about how hot he is like Tea does. They actually have like a legit dynamic and have back and forth banter.

Still, Kotori is pretty boring on her own, she has a bit of personality in Zexal I but that starts to fade away and all that's left of her that's interesting is her friendships with Yuma and Cathy which are at least cute. (The fanservice shit they do with her sucks though. That’s not on her as a character, that’s on the writers but still, it’s gross.)

5 Yuzu Hiiragi

Yeah I know I said these aren't ranked based on how badly the writers fucked up writing these girls but out of every girl that had potential and got fucked over, Yuzu is the only one whose personality was drastically altered during this fuck up. She went from a courageous hot-headed fighter to a cowering husk very suddenly and for no explained reason after she's defeated by Sergey. She still shows flashes of her original personality but it becomes sparser and sparser until that character I loved so much in the first half was just... gone. Not just literally gone but in a metaphorical sense too. It sucked.

People complain about Aoi or Akiza or Asuka being screwed over by the narrative and I do agree they all were in some way but they at least still felt like the same characters all the way through. Yuzu meanwhile... I love who she was in the first half of Arc V but man... that depiction in the second half just broke me.

4 Aoi Zaizen

Aoi got fucked over by her show too I'm not gonna act like she didn't, I was actively frustrated with how they were treating her (particularly that Spectre duel, her losing in that way still pisses me off to this day) but she was still treated far better than the YGO girls before her (besides maybe Asuka?).

I like how she's this shy quiet girl in real life and basically a celebrity in Link VRAINS. Then as the show goes on she transitions from a celebrity just duelling for fun to a warrior duelling to protect Link VRAINS and her friends/family, even duelling alongside her brother, who was previously overprotective of her. Oh and before that, she also went behind her brother's back to fight for what she believed in. She is great, her story is good, it's just under-focused and she's not allowed as many victories as she deserved.

3 Asuka Tenjoin

This isn't me being biased towards GX. I swear. 🥺

Okay yeah Asuka's character arc isn't as good as Aoi's, I just... Really like her sassiness and I think duelling wise she's treated a bit better than Aoi and... yeah okay I really relate to her story in season four. I relate to all their post graduation anxieties but my god how did they know my exact struggle of choosing between staying with the people I know and moving abroad to further my career?! How was GX that perceptive?! Oh yeah also she's a woman who chose a career over potential romance and I don't see that enough in fiction so thank you Asuka. I will now like you for those semi arbitrary reasons and the fact that you're funny.

2 Romin Kirishima

Like I said, Romin is the objective best lead girl. She has a complete character that's given an appropriate amount of focus, great relationships with the other characters that aren't romance based, enough wins to make her look skilled and match her growth as a duellist/character and enough losses that it evens out and she doesn't feel overpowered. Romin feels like a real person and even has a hobby outside of duelling: music and I love seeing her combine the two. She's a really fun likeable character on top of being treated well by the narrative FINALLY. If I ever needed to show an example of how to write a good female character, I'd point to Romin first. If I was going purely based on logic and wasn't so ungodly attached to my chosen favourite, Romin would be number one. But uh...

Yeah you all know who I put at number one.

1 Aki Izayoi/Akiza Izinski

I go back and forth on her name since I fell in love with her subbed version but continued to love her when I saw the dub (which in the case of 5Ds, I mostly prefer).

As I said, I fell in love with her during Fortune Cup when she was first introduced. There was such an air of mystery to her and the way she spoke (both her numb voice and her words) made it very clear to me she was traumatized/abused by her family and the world around her for things she couldn't control. She was viewed as a freak/monster just because of something she was born with...

I refuse to go into detail about why I relate to this, just know that I do and Aki's reaction of masking her true self from the world was very similar to how I reacted. So as you can imagine, I'm very personally attached to her and couldn't imagine putting any of these others over her. It's not just because I think she's hot. She is but that's besides the point. I relate to her narrative in Fortune Cup/Dark Signers which sadly had a really botched resolution and if I start that shit again here you'll never hear the end of it. Just go find the post, it was something like "I have some concerns about Aki's arc."

Anyways, botched arc resolution aside, I still really love her. She had this adorable awkwardness to her after redemption and I loved seeing her learn to Turbo Duel. It's one of my favourite episodes in any YGO, it's just so sweet and precisely written. We see every step and fumble and rise back up on her journey and in the end, she gets a great victory and achieves her dream. If only WRGP had done anything with that... Still, I’m glad she was able to find happiness.

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blondiest · 11 months

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Can you imagine an easily flustered, shy mello or Near? Who's harder to picture with this personality.

hahaha, i have to say neither of them are particularly easy to picture this way,,, mostly bc i don't actually think Near would fluster that easy (i can more easily see him getting slightly overly enthused / overwhelmed if that makes sense??) and Mello defaults to getting A Little Mad About It whenever confronted with an unfamiliar / uncomfortable emotion (some exceptions for this ofc).

overall i think it's easier for me to imagine Near getting a bit more flustered, esp in a situation in which they're already involved with one another, since i think perhaps in that case he'd feel less of a need to hide his reactions to things?? i'm gonna be totally real right now, it's pretty late here so i reserve the right to clarify / retract some of this tomorrow when i'm more coherent hfhfhggfhfgfgh.

all this being said i'll add that i personally enjoy writing Mello getting flustered more. in his own way, though. TO THE EXCERPTS, FOR CLARIFICATION.

oh. first. special treat for you, since you specifically asked about them being shy. unpublished bit of a WIP that i currently am not actually working on, linked here ❣️

okay. aside from that. literally the entirety of there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have falls into the "mello falling apart" category, but here's a bit i like particularly well:

Near pokes his head in the door, and Mello is hit with the smell of burnt bread. To his great dissatisfaction, the white-haired boy’s eyes don’t stray from Mello’s face for even an instant.

“I burned it the first two times,” Near says. “But I’m trying again.”

“Okay,” Mello says, shifting slightly to let the shirt— Near’s shirt, which by all logic should make it even sexier— fall open a bit more.

Near doesn’t react. The blonde finds himself almost wanting to scream, but instead runs a hand through his hair and looks at Near through half-lidded eyes. It’s a move that, to date, has had a one-hundred percent success rate in getting the attention of potential sex partners.

“I have white grape juice if you would like any,” Near informs him blandly. He is not giving Mello do-me eyes, or any other sign of being affected.

“I’ll pass,” Mello says, trying to sound like he isn’t edging into hysteria.

okay spoilers below this for two other fics lol

from chapter 5 of hot soup on a cold day:

A high-pitched beeping sound pulls Near from slumber a distressingly short period of time later. His head aches slightly from too little sleep, but he hits the “off” button and silences the alarm. Beside him, Mello stirs, blinking blearily up at Near for a few seconds before seemingly waking up all at once. Near watches with dread as the blonde’s face shifts from sleepy relaxation to embarrassment to panic.

“What—!” Mello stammers, mostly failing to muster up a glare. “What the hell are you doing in my bed?!”

The acting is not Mello’s best, to say the least, but he is clearly having a crisis of some kind.

chapter 2 of what doesn't kill me makes me want you more:

Near tilts her head. “You didn’t complain before, when you were kissing me.”

It’s as if a rod is slipped into the other girl’s spine; she goes rigid, then sneers. “That’s because I feel bad for you.”

Near bites back a question— is it common practice for you to kiss people you consider charity cases?— because it’s pointed enough that it could only worsen the situation. “Mello has a kind heart,” she says instead.

That doesn’t go over well, though, anyway.

“Don’t fucking mock me,” Mello spits. “You’re the one who has— you’re the one who’s obsessed with me. I was just taking pity on you.”

uuhhhhh. yeah. anyhow. thank you for the ask!! hopefully this made some kind of sense? it's genuinely hard for me to tell when it's this late in the day jhjgjghfhhhfhh (<- temporarily a european timezone girlie) but it was fun to answer anyways!

#meronia #mellonear #me answering this ask and suddenly being unsure i know the definition of flustered OR shy #and subsequently getting. you guessed it. flustered. and also? shy.#asks

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monpalace · 11 months

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Whenever Songbird calls Twi’s name he’s definitely about to get his as beat because she always calls him ‘babe’, ‘honey’ or ‘hon’ hell even in danger when she does say his name there’s a very distinct pitch she goes to almost like a dog whistle also he would pull a Miguel and just start running on all fours. For some reason that’s how I imagine him chasing their adopted kids to round them up for dinner 😭

Atalanta’s call has more bass to her voice when she calls to him and wild freezes before weighing out the pros and cons of running because he knows he’s fucked up. When in trouble i don’t even think she gets his name out before he’s just rushing in.

Athena never calls Time Link unless Malon told her that Time’s in trouble it’s either dumbass (affectionate) or dumbass (non affectionate.) but he definitely has a big brother sense of “where did she go?” Before he has to go to her house in which bumps into Percival on the way because he was about to ask if he knew where his wife went?

Wild and Twi definitely call them Gerudo Nubian goddesses and coco butter queens when they know their upset because it makes them laugh and forget how angry they are with them

Also tell me your Wars thoughts I wanna hear -🧚🏽‍♀️

STOP BC IF ONE OF THEM CALLED ME THEIR SPICE BUNNY, COCOA BUTTER, HOT CHOCOLATE, NUBIAN GODDESS I'D RUN AWAY CRYING LAUGHING??? BROTHER 😭😭😭😭 TS WOULD TAKE ME TO THE GRAVE

AND THEM USING IT AS A TACTIC TO GET OUT OF TROUBLE WITH THE GIRLS??? the kids/flora hear songbird/atalanta busting a lung and as soon as soon as they're all getting ready for bed they bring it up and now all of a sudden twi/wild are in the doghouse

"but i thought you loved me )):" "yeah alr snowbunny. get away from me. i know your lies and deceit."

twi's running around collecting the kids for dinner/family trip and all of a sudden they hear miguel's theme. they look around trying to figure having a "why do i hear boss music" moment and all of a sudden they get jumped by a furry before getting hauled back to the house like a sack of flour

("baby, why are the kids all banged up?" "why was a grown man running on--" "dw abt it babygirl. we were just havin a lil fun (:" and twi's just sending them a look)

time pulls percival into panicking over athena as soon as they run into each other. they have a moment of "she told me she was going to x" "well she told me she was going to y" and now theyre just stuck asking around 🗿 whole time malon knew exactly where she was bc why would she let her baby daddy (athena) go anywhere without telling her first?

wild having to go through literally his entire life to figure out what he did wrong when atalanta's voice has a little to much bass in it is crazy 😭 he shoots flora a quick text on the sheikah/purah pad thats like "whatd i do this time ):" "Honestly, if you can't figure it out yourself I don't know what to tell you." "PROPER GRAMMAR?????" and now both his girls are mad at him bc its def a shared co-parenting experience with him

wild def gave atalanta and flora a lifealert bracelet that senses when they're around enemies or smth 😭😭 he burst into purah's when one of them came back with one two many scratches (it was a single scratch. from a normal keese.) goin on abt some "i just dont think my heart can take it if they go out without me and they run into trouble. robbers or monsters or otherwise"

warriors and his s/o under the cut bc idk how long im gonna talk abt it

im calling wars s/o aphrodite to keep the greek mythology thing going, but it def fits bc not only is she really fucking hot/pretty/the beauty standard/everybody wants her, but bc she's the aphrodite to warriors' ares/hephaestus (probs both. def without the cheating)

shes typically seen as armcandy to wars and is almost always seen in like,, bodycon fits or fits that show off skin bc shes a bad bitch and wars knows how to dissuade ppl from makin moves (not thru fighting. he's in enough trouble with the powers that be bc of her already)

idk what their relationship was before they got together (probably smth like aphrodite taking a look at wars, going like "i like you. youre mine now", and him just being okay with it), but even if she doesnt make it obvious that theyre in a relationship, he makes it known well enough for the both of them with the way he pays for her shopping sprees, carries all her bags from said shopping sprees, always has a hand (usually both) on her, pressing kisses wherever he can whenever he can (gomez and morticia frfr), etc etc (aka clingy boyfriend behavior)

idk why but i imagine aphrodite hanging around wars' quarters/room in the castle more often than anywhere else (if not evident by the way her items-- more specifically, her clothes-- take up most of his closet and drawer space) (thats not even half of it). she usually hangs around it bc not only is it filled with him/his aura/his presence even when hes gone, but bc when she does go out in public/around the castle, shes always bombarded with nonsense (also, she just doesnt vibe with castle life at all)

(imagining wars' place is like, a cottage a little ways away from the castle with the stablehands or smth, or his own wing in the castle thats more like a house or smth? its small, but not enough for everything to be in one room. its big, but not enough for someone to get lost and mistake it for a manor)

(also entirely unrelated but, bc shes gerudo (on my dead things 🤝🏽 gerudo 🤝🏽 magic bs again yes), she's wellversed with magic, right? she usually floats, draping herself around wars shoulders like a cat or smth, around adding to her ethereal/magic/faery/fairy aesthetic)

because of her homebody nature, i imagine she's more of a homemaker like songbird, but she still has a fuck around and find out attitude like athena. she cares for wars when he gets back from the field or meetings, making sure to keep his (their) little house comfortable, but she also openly talks shit abt any generals or nobles when theyre in the room bc theyre giving her man a little to much grief abt smth he had no control over

("the general (not impa) said i had to host the celebratory dinner this time" "tell him i said piss off." "baby." "im not letting another 100 year old elf into my house. im pretty sure the last one pissed in our chair." "you threw it away, right?" "why d'you think i went out to buy a whole new table set?")

(alternatively, its not uncommon to walk in and see them positioned to where wars' head is laying on aphrodite's tits while she cards her fingers through his hair and scratches his scalp, gassing him up and saying other loving words)

shes def the first person the army see when wars has to join them on wtv battle. hes def the first soldier to leave whenever he is. he has to skip whatever debriefing is to be had (and isnt seen for at least a week or two) bc aphrodite is to busy healing him, smothering him, and making him eat actual food bc she knows the food they serve on the field is shit

when he gets taken away to be with the chain, aphrodite realizes he's missing after not even 5mins of him being gone (he was prob coming back to his quarters and was late. hes never late) and tracks him down to somebody else's hyrule like "wtf are you doing here." "howd you get here?? we're 300yrs in the past apparently??" "idk what made you think time travel could take you from me"

during the adventures she def comes up with a way to keep them in touch via call or video or apparition or smth. they have to fall asleep on a call, she pops up mid-fight scaring him but that's okay bc she just took care of the engine while she was as it, or he just calls her and she's mid bath or wtv

idk i like the idea of aphrodite and warriors

#faeries in the garden #the palace answers #Athena. Songbird. Atalanta. and Aphrodite

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percontaion-points · 2 years

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Crave chapters 36-38

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 36

“Blank” doesn’t describe what happens to his face. It goes beyond blank, beyond empty, until there’s absolutely nothing there. No sign at all of the Jaxon I watched the meteor shower with. Definitely no sign of the boy who kissed me until my knees buckled and my heart nearly exploded.

I’d like to remind everybody that it’s been four days since Grace came to the school.

“I keep telling you that it doesn’t work like that here.” He shoves a frustrated hand through his hair. “Don’t you get that? You’ve been a pawn since you got here, a chess piece to move around the board to get the desired result. But now…now we’ve upped the stakes. This isn’t just a game anymore.”

Again, from Grace’s perspective, imagine how fucking ridiculous this must sound.

Hell, I have some inkling of what’s going on, and even I’m rolling my eyes so hard that I hurt myself.

But not only is he not lying broken on the ground three stories below, he’s nowhere to be seen at all. He’s vanished, right into thin air.

Chapter 36 summary: Grace finds the hall empty, but knows he couldn’t have gone far. She finds him with some of his friends on the stairs, and calls out to him. He’s like “what we did was a mistake. I’ve put you in grave danger, Grace. Stay away from me, and I’ll stay away from you.” Grace is naturally upset over the entire thing, and doesn’t understand. Because how can she when literally the entire school is hiding the truth from her? So she’s forced to watch as he literally walks away from her.

Chapter 37

“More like, everything here is designed to kill you in ten seconds or less.”

“I thought that was Australia?”

“I’m pretty sure it works for any place that begins and ends with an A.”

I’m from Arizona, and the number of things that can and will kill you out here (including going outside) is insanely high.

So yeah. This checks out.

“Yeah, we talked about this before. Everyone wants me to just move on, and I can’t. They tell me that nothing has to change, that Jaxon’s a perfectly good replacement—”

“Jaxon?” My whole body tightens up at the mention of his name linked with hers. She can’t be serious…can she?

“I know. It’s absurd. He and Hudson are nothing alike. And I don’t care about politics or family dynasties even if he does. I just want Hudson back.”

I’m reeling under the news that she and Jaxon are supposed to be together—and the implication that he’s willing to go along with it. But she looks so small when she says it, so exposed, that my heart twists for her.

Besides, it doesn’t make sense. Not with the way he held me earlier. Not with the way he kissed me. He didn’t do either of those things like a guy who had another girl on his mind.

Even without context, even I can sense that it’s less because Jaxon is in love with Lia, and more because their families are hoping for some kind of political marriage.

There are a couple of messages from Heather—about how much Calculus sucks and how she wishes she could work up the nerve to talk to Veronica (her current crush).

LESBIAN FRIEND?! GIVE IT TO ME. NOW.

And it’s these thoughts that have me peeling back the bandage I promised I wouldn’t lift for at least a few days and staring at the cut on my neck.

Or, more precisely, at the two perfectly round, perfectly spaced puncture marks about an inch below a jagged cut.

Oh gee.

Or, more precisely, at the two perfectly round, perfectly spaced puncture marks about an inch below a jagged cut.

Chapter 37 summary: Jaxon literally “disappeared”, and as Grace is looking around for him, Lia shows up. She’s like “man girl, you don’t look so good.” and starts walking Grace back to her room, clearly worried Grace is going to faint at any second.

As they’re going, Grace randomly asks how Lia is doing, in regards to her dead boyfriend. Lia says that she’s as fine as to be expected, given the circumstances. She goes on to say that everybody expects for her to “get over” Hudson’s death, and to hook up with Jaxon as a replacement. Reading between the lines, it’s painfully obvious she means more in a political marriage sort of situation, but Grace only hears it as “Jaxon is secretly in love with me!” Because yeah. Our main character, folks.

Lia gets Grace back to her dorm right as Macy comes out in search of her cousin. Macy thanks Lia, and Grace insists that she only wants to go to sleep now, so Lia leaves. Macy hovers over Grace until Grace eats some cookies and juice. Then, she goes to bed.

But Grace can’t sleep, and keeps thinking about everything. She eventually gets up to look at her wound in the mirror, despite the nurse telling her not to remove the bandage. And to the surprise of literally nobody but Grace, there are vampire puncture marks on her neck.

Chapter 38

“The truth is, Grace, sometimes the most obvious answer really is the right one.”

Chapter 38 summary: Grace naturally freaks out. She thinks that this is the lingering effects of whatever the nurse drugged her with earlier. But eventually, after a lot of mental back and forth, she reaches something that I liken to “When you have eliminated all which is impossible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.”

She paces around for a while before she puts on the school uniform and goes racing up to Jaxon’s room. But he’s clearly not there, so she sits down to wait for him to come back.

His friend, Mekhi, shows up instead. After a little bit (I’m serious; it was only a page) of back and forth, Grace shows him the bite marks. He gets upset, and texts Jaxon before admitting that Jaxon went off “into the mountains”. And he wants for Grace to sit there and wait until he comes back.

Grace wants to know why Mekhi isn’t more freaked out. He says that he is, and then goes on to insist that Jaxon didn’t bite her. But Grace is of the opinion that Jaxon must have, because it wasn’t the goddamned nurse.

She tries to leave to go to class, but Mekhi stops her. Says that Jaxon wanted her to wait up there. Eventually, the two of them compromise and he agrees that she can wait down in her room instead.

#Crave series #Crave (Crave 1)#Chapter 36 #Chapter 37 #Chapter 38 #Grace (Crave)#jaxon vega #bad timeline #i'm done goodbye #Lia (Crave)#HEADDESKING #comprehension is for squares!#Macy (Crave)#random background characters are random

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Text

NSFW Alphabet

Summary: is what it says ^^

Pairing: Kai Parker x reader

Warnings: 18+ minors dni if you do then read at your own risk and get blocked and scared by everything below, smut duh, mentions of basically everything I’m too lazy to go through the thing again and if you know this character then I'm sure you know what to expect

Masterlist Link

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I see him him more as someone who wants to sleep and have cuddles, so if either of you were to do the cleaning up it would definitely be you. Maybe he’d want something to eat after too, so before he was a heretic he’d want some pork rinds or something and after he’s turned he’d probably have some of your blood, if you’re human or not.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his hands, mostly because that’s how he uses his magic, but he also likes to see them wrapped around your throat, his rings glinting beneath the light. As well he loves to tease you with them, if one of you are driving he will tap his fingers along the tops of your thighs, even if your making out nothing more he will caress them. Brushing your hair out from your face? That man sure as hell strokes your collarbones whilst doing so. He loves how you react to his hands and how much power they have in general, let alone over you.

His favourite body part of yours is your mouth, and not just in a sexual way. He can't believe that someone smiles when they see him, but you do. And then there's your laugh, he already knows that he is a funny guy, however his goal is singled down to making you and him humoured, and it works every time. But on a sexual note, he likes to tease you by biting your lips, loves watching them wrapped around him, and his most fave thing ever is to wake up to you kissing along his face, from his nose to cheeks to his chin, it makes him feel strangely at peace.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Sometimes he cums first, he gets so lost in pleasure after being lost in a prison world by himself for so long, but it's nothing to worry about, you enjoy watching him be a little bit selfish since all other aspects and priorities in his life are focused on you and revenge. But it is a definite factor that he makes it up to you if he does this, it's not like he's seeking forgiveness, it's more of a treat for you making him feel so good. He will make you cum time and time again, sometimes even with magic, and when he becomes a heretic, he can cum multiple times; both of you have a lot of fun with that as you can imagine.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He has an entire folder on his phone of just pictures of you. No one really bothers to go on his phone where no one really likes him so it's not something that he is cautious about, however you made sure that he put a lock on that folder for both of your own securities. On it are some bloody (some literally) graphic photos that he would not want to share with anyone else, he is quite possessive and in his mind if anyone were to see a single picture he would rip their eyes out and kill them.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

No experience at all. Before the prison world his focus wasn't so much on girls, it was on getting his fix of magic, and then to murdering his siblings. And back then no one really expressed any interest in him, he had been the weird quiet kid at school, and thus he was alienated literally everywhere he went, including his own home. And even when he escaped, he met you, and that was game over for him he knew that he was done for and that he wanted no one else. Like you were literally this man's first kiss and first everything, but he doesn't think of that as a big deal, or a small one, it just is what it is.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

In whatever position that the two of you are in he enjoys being the dominant one, and has to have his hands grasped on you somehow, as though he's draining magic out of you somehow, sex has definitely became his new fix. He loves and I mean LOVES having you bent over a desk, a table, anything really that will support both of your weights. The other is against a wall with your legs wrapped around him, and it can be any wall anywhere, he isn't picky. But he definitely always wants to try new positions, even if they're weird, he just wants to have you any way that is possible.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He can be goofy, and that's usually what he is like if he's in a good mood and not planning on murder or he's just woken up. In fact he loves to make you laugh during sex, whether he tickles you to get the both of you going and you to clench around him or he says something that prompts at one of your inside jokes. But again as I said, that is if he's in a good mood, when he's in a bad mood he will just take all of his stress out on your body, being careful not to hurt you, and he's like this when you tease him too.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Nothing particularly crazy going on down there, though it's not bare either. The hairs are quite thin but they are dark, but if you wanted he would definitely trim them. He stays hygienic though that's for sure, he washes everything thoroughly, and was exactly like that when and before you had met him. Back in his day shaving and trimming wasn't really popular with men so it hadn't crossed his mind at all until he accidentally (and I mean accidentally and it would have been funny af) stumbled across porn on the internet. His expression was priceless and he explained how strange it was to see some guy bald down there, and so you told him everything he needed to know.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It's not like he does the whole roses on the bed thing, but it is the most intimate that he's been with anyone and the first initial time that he has ever opened up to anyone and allowed them to see him in such a vulnerable state. Though if there is one thing that he will do to be romantic, it would be candles, one time when the two of you began to have sex they were already around because of witch stuff and he found them to soothe him that bit more, and it seemed that you liked them too. Now every time you go to a store he buys a new one, and is amazed by how many scents there are (he has a collection under the sink, but you've told him that he should burn the ones that are in use all the way through before he starts another one, although it's inevitable that he's only going to buy more anyways.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Doesn't do it very often, and whilst he did it in the prison world every now and then it wasn't as regular as you would think. Though since he is with you he doesn't feel the need to do it as much or really at all, but Damon explained to him with a cringe what sexting was and sometimes when the two of you are apart and he wants to tease you he sends you some pictures and videos. It's not like he expects anything back but it is usually what he is hoping for, except when you're at work, you definitely come home in a mood when he does that.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Choking, daddy kink (because we all know he has major daddy issues), knife kink, blood sharing, degradation (not of him though because that reminds him of his trauma growing up), spanking, overstimulation etc

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere but a car. It's just so awkward in there and whilst he doesn't mind hands reaching over the front whilst one of you is driving, he doesn't want to go all the way in there. It's like being trapped in a can, and Kai hates any sense in which he feels trapped, he would definitely start to freak out as the windows steamed up and he had no space to move his legs. His favourite place is the couch when the TV is on in the background, it just is so casual and that provides him with some stability in that mind of his.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He's down to go whenever, but particularly when you're being a badass; stabbed a vampire in the heart? He's all over you. Or even when you sass and talk back other people, so really anything that makes it clear that you are being defiant, he likes watching you get angry, and he knows that you have a lot of steam that you want to get off your chest too. Or when you let other guys down and say you have a boyfriend, extra points if you point him out or call him over.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Let anyone else in the bedroom, doesn't matter their gender, it is his safe place for just the two of you. The idea of sharing you, allowing someone else to see him vulnerable and someone else touching him makes him feel sick. If you asked it would be a straight no, not that you'd need anyone else if you had him, and he'd probably be mad about it for a while and act a bit distant until a fight resolving the issue occurred.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

No preference, he honestly really enjoys both. He enjoys getting lost in between your legs and vice versa, he even likes it when you're on your period; possibly even before he became a heretic, he's definitely not scared of a little blood. When you suck him off, he is definitely vocal though, he likes to let you know that you are doing a good job, and you appreciate that he doesn't hold back like other guys and that he isn't ashamed since there's no reason to be.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Continously picks up pace throughout. He is more so fast and rough, but can be the latter occasionally, usually in the mornings. He sees it as the faster he is, the more rounds he can get in and that therefore means he can get you off multiple times, which then of course would leave both of you entirely satisfied.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves them, they probably occur than regular romantic sex considering that when the town and it's people are undergoing danger there isn't much time; even when he was the bad guy there were still many quickies since it wasn't in your plans to get caught by your friends being with him and that he had only a certain amount of time to get on with his schemes.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

All the time, he is really down for anything that either one of you bring up. Since he discovered the internet, he spends time looking up things that the two of you can do together, yet again sexually and non sexually. He just wants to spend every second of your lives doing something that you would both enjoy, there really isn't much that could scare him away, though he wouldn't be down for penetration or anything of the sort on himself.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Before he was a heretic, he could go like 3, he has always had a lot of energy. After however he could go for hours, I want to say maybe double, maybe a little bit more, though for both he'd want to be energised with food and drink during and after. He could spend forever on, under and in your body, and that is pretty much his plan for the rest of his life.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Kinda not the biggest fan, he doesn't mind all like handcuffs and blindfolds, but he would not want dildos or anything like that to be used. He was always used to competing for attention and having some kind of competition, that was his whole point in existence since the twin merges were supposed to happen, and he wouldn't want to feel the same way towards some stupid toy. So overall yes, but it really depends on what kind.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is cruel. He does it all the time, even in a way that isn't sexual, it is just a part of who he is. He will tease you with his words and his touch, and sometimes he won't even have to say anything, he will just trail his eyes up your body and lick his lips, or curl his fingers randomly in the air. His favourite time to tease you is in front of people, he loves to hear the excuses that you come up with to get the two of you away from everyone else, but in reality you may as well tell them what you're really about to do because they all definitely know.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

This man moans, and he doesn't care who hears it. From the get go, unlike most guys, he isn't ashamed to make some noise, it's a language for both of you to allow one another that the two of you are enjoying what is going on in that private part of your lives. He even yells which is far by the hottest thing that you have and will ever hear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He doesn't allow you to do it often, but when you tie him to the bed, it's really something else for the both of you. When he's in this position he loves it when you bite his hips and other places and get a little rough with him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

About average, in thickness and length, which is perfect, he's not too big or small and he knows how to use it which is the most important part. And he's uncut, circumcision isn't really a priority in the coven community.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very high. And not just for sex but for any kind of affection, everyone finds it quite funny how a sociopath can be so needy for someone. But on the sex note, he will basically bug you and text you until you give in, Kai Parker doesn't take no for an answer, he would beg if he had to, not caring about his reputation, after all that's just a bunch of words and opinions that he's heard before. And by beg I mean drop onto his knees and put his hands together and just will not shut up and will have the biggest pout ever on his lips.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Quite soon after, he puts his arms around you from behind and his head in the crook of his neck, and he's out like a light, snoring lightly in your ear which then sends you into a sleep as well. Sometimes the two of you have little chats after and you stroke lovingly down each other's body, but not much else will happen, even if a movie is on in the background, lets be honest neither of you are paying attention to it.

Tags: @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce

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theshelbyclan · 3 years

Text

Horse Thieves

Summary: The Shelby siblings are still building their imperium, and they need a horse to do it.

(Gif by @madshelby)

A/N: I asked around a bit and people wanted to read a lot more about Teddy, so I decided to use this request by one lovely anon: Hello! I've never done a request for a fic before so please excuse me if this isn't the right way to do it 🙈 But I noticed your requests were open and read the prompts list you linked to for Shelby sister prompts - so can I request something that incorporates 7.“car. Now”, 8.“what story do you want tonight” and 14.“your heading the right way for a smacked backside”. Thank you! I decided to base this on this idea I had in the longer Teddy series, where she refers to a time when she stole a horse with Tommy. So see this as a prequel if you will, set before the series. Words: 2773

*** “Whatever you do, you’re not using Finn.” “I won’t…” “I mean it, Thomas,” Aunt Polly warned, “You’ve only been back for five minutes from France and I will not have you endangering my nephew, after I’ve kept him safe for fucking four years.”

Tommy sighed, “Yes, I understand.” Polly looked at her nephew with a distrustful gaze, “Why do we need the horse?” “Betting’s down,” he slowly lit a cigarette, “We need our own. A horse that looks good. Convinces people to lay a bet.” She had to agree with that, “Where will you go?” “To the place where people most expect a horse to be stolen.” “Why?” “Hide in plain sight,” he pointed, “you taught me that.” “I thought I taught you everything…” Polly mused sternly. Tommy nodded slowly, “Maybe. And now I’m acting on it…” After a short pause, he said, “I’m gonna do it, Pol. I’ll make this family rich. Trust me.” “What about the little ones?” “I’m doing this for them, alright, so that they won’t have to grow up like we did!” Fire was burning in his eyes when he spoke, but Polly had never seen him quite like this. He was different these days. After pondering for a while, she said, “So tell me where.” Tommy took a deep breath, knowing she’d disapprove, “The fair.” “For fuck’s sake, Thomas!” *** “WELCOME TO THE FAIR!” Arthur bellowed, which scared most people in his vicinity away, but it made Teddy, who was used to it, literally jump for joy. Arthur grinned broadly and lifted his little sister up onto his shoulders, shouting, “Now look here, sweet girl, this is where we bloody come from and don’t you forget it!” “Arthur, can I have a candied apple?” Teddy asked him, knowing he wouldn’t refuse her anything when he was in a mood like this. “You can have all the apples, Teddy!” he replied with a grand gesture. John came walking besides them and quietly said to his brother, “They’re here.” “Good,” Arthur said uncharacteristically gently, and he lifted Teddy off his shoulders again, “Tommy’s in place.” “What about Finn, Arthur?” he said, playing with his toothpick. Arthur winked at his suddenly much younger brother, “Don’t worry, brother. He’s off playing with the Boswell kids. He’ll be no bloody trouble.” John grinned down at Teddy, “Unlike this one!” “You know why, John?” Teddy asked cheekily, “Because Finn is like Arthur, but I am like you!” John laughed manically out loud and Arthur bellowed, “She’s fucking right!” “How about that apple, Arthur?” Teddy asked innocently, quickly adding a, “Please?” “Wait here, princess.” As they continued walking, John took Teddy’s hand in his and said to her, “Look at all the horses, Teddy. Maybe one day you could have one of your own.” “But I already have the pony you gave me when you came back,” she looked up with adoring eyes. It was no secret that Teddy had four heroes in life, and those were her brothers. He looked down, “Yeah, but one day you’ll have a horse. Promise.” “John?” she asked, suddenly serious, “You won’t go away again, will you?” “Go where? Why would I leave my favourite little girl!” “You did before…” John stopped and turned to her, “Listen, that was the war… You know I don’t like talking about that…” “I know…” “But the war’s over. No more fucking mud for us, alright?” he said earnestly. He tried desperately to hide the pain he felt. Teddy nodded. “I’m sorry,” John blurted out all of a sudden, “I’m sorry we left you. We didn’t know… what it’d be… we thought it would be…” he simply couldn’t find the words. “I know,” she interrupted him in a high voice, “It’s okay. Just don’t do it again, alright?” “Alright,” he smiled. Then he changed his tone again, happy to switch subjects, “Now, what story do you want tonight?” “One about a horse!” “How about we get you a real one?” John suggested light-heartedly.

Teddy giggled because she thought he was joking, slipped her hand into his again and started skipping. Then she looked over at Arthur, who was just in the process of stealing an apple for her. It was good to have her brothers back again.

“Teddy?” John asked, “think you could do something for me?” “Like what?” “Tommy needs our help.” “With what?” her eyebrows shot up. John coughed once and waited for Arthur to join them, “Eat your apple. And listen, Tommy needs us to help him with something.” Mouth full of candied apple, “whaff kinf of somefingff?” “Just do as we tell you to,” John explained, “and then Tommy’ll tell you what to do.” Arthur nodded, “He’s already instructed us.” “Arthur,” John became unsure, “Are we really involving our eight-year-old sister in this?” “She’ll be fine, John-boy! She’s fucking smart, she is.” “I am,” Teddy replied proudly. The candied apple was nearly gone already.

“Alright, Teddy-girl, you listen to me, yeah?” John bend down to her level, “I need you to pretend you got lost, or maybe ask for help, or cry! Can you cry?” Teddy sniffled a little, “I’m not sure,” she then said in her normal voice. “Don’t worry if you can’t! Just scream a lot, alright?” “Wait!” she said, “Give me a second….” And she pouted her lips again, scrunched up her nose and suddenly tears were falling down her cheeks. “Bloody hell…” Arthur mumbled, as he turned to John, “you fucking created a monster.” “I’m crying!” Teddy said triumphantly through her tears, “Now what?” John shook her head to banish the emotions he felt over seeing his baby sister cry, “Go to Tommy.” Teddy quickly darted off and went in search of her other brother. When she found him, she announced herself with, “Look, Tommy, real tears!” “What the fuck?” Tommy replied in shock, “What happened, tell me now!” “Nothing!” she quipped, “John made me.” “I’ll fucking kill him,” her brother said automatically, “Did he throw you up in the air again?” Teddy grinned, “No, and besides that doesn’t make me cry…” “It did when you broke your arm.” She waved a disinterested hand, “Fine. But I mean he told me to cry because you needed a disattraction! “Distraction.” “Yes!” Tommy knelt down and said in a hushed voice, “Alright, first things first, you can never, ever tell Aunt Polly about this, do you hear me?” Teddy nodded obediently. “I mean it Teddy. She’ll have my fucking balls…” A high voice replied, “Which balls?” He sighed deeply again, regretting his words intensely, “Listen to me, eh? Don’t tell Aunt Pol.” “I will,” but a vague twinkle had come into Teddy’s eyes the second she realised her big tough brother was scared of Aunt Polly too.

Tommy lifted up Teddy and she rested on his hip, hugged close by his arm. She could vaguely smell his hair, his cigarette and a whiff of horse on him. This was her brother, who’d been gone for two whole years. She was only little when he’d gone, but Teddy remembered she cried a lot. All she ever wanted at night was for John to play with her and for Arthur to sit with her and for Tommy to tell her stories. She and Finn used to curl up together and cry. But now he was home, not the same, but still home.

“See them?” Tommy pointed, with a smile playing about his lips like he used to have all the time before the war, “See that family?” Teddy followed his hand with her eyes, “Yeah, the ones with the man with the blue scarf?” “That’s the one,” he nodded, “I need you to distract them.” “Why?” “So I can take their horse.” Teddy turned to face Tommy, and as she grinned, his face lit up as well, “Are we going to steal the horse, Tommy?” Teddy whispered excitedly. “Yes.” She lowered her voice even more, “just you and me?” Softly, he planted a kiss on her head, “Can’t do it without you…” Couldn’t do any of this without you here, he thought, but didn’t say it. “Alright,” he continued, “I’m going to talk to the man with the scarf. Meanwhile, John and Arthur are going to pick a fight with some other men, over by the candied apples, you see?” “That’s why I got an apple…” Teddy mused, slightly disappointed. Tommy quickly got her attention back, “I’ll be talking to him about this other family I know,” he waved a hand, “it’ll be something useless, but I’ll get him to walk away. John-boy is itching to punch someone, so he will, don’t get scared, alright?” Teddy frowned, “I’m not scared of John.” “Now, you see that horse, the black one, by the water?” She peered through the crowd of people and finally caught a glimpse of the beauty. Her eyes lit up in a way that only the Shelby’s eyes light up when looking at a horse. “There’s two boys with him. I need you to go to them. Make sure they walk away from the horse.” “Tommy…” Teddy thought out loud, “Won’t they know it was us?” He smirked at his sister’s intellect, “No. They don’t know us. Besides, they’re feuding with another family here. There’s a war coming, but we won’t be involved this time. Don’t worry about it, eh?” “Why are they fighting, Tommy?” she was not letting it go so easily. “Because I made it happen.” Then he walked a few feet so that they were both hidden from sight, “Now, I need you to distract the boys, and maybe some of the women as well. Cry, if you can, and if anything goes wrong, scream. I know you’re good at that…” “Who will take the horse?” “Johnny Dogs will. He’s close by,” Tommy leaned his forehead onto Teddy’s, “Think you can do it?” “Yes!” “Not too scared?” “Never!” Teddy replied enthusiastically, which slightly worried Tommy, but instead he said, “Go on.” So Teddy walked out behind the tent on her own and started thinking sad thoughts, just to make the tears come easily later on. There wasn’t much need for them though, because as soon as she approached the boys who were washing the horse, one called out, “Piss off!” “Fuck you!” Teddy replied in a flash, “This is free land and I’m a free woman!” she heard Aunt Polly say that once, “I’ll go where I fucking please!” One of the boys pushed her and angrily Teddy shoved him back. Then the second one came for her, and Teddy suddenly remembered her mission. So against all of her instincts, she let herself be pushed to the ground and started howling as soon as she landed. Immediately heads turned and Teddy cried like she hadn’t done in two years, “They pushed me!” But somewhere from out the corner of her eye, she saw Arthur arguing with someone and John landing a punch, almost in slow-motion, and she knew everything went according to plan. “Did not!” the boy protested nervously, “she started it!” Teddy curled up a little and held onto her leg like it was hurting, while trying to make herself as small as possible, “It hurts…” “What have you done!” a strange woman called out to one of the boys, who shrunk visibly as soon as he heard her voice, “fighting little girls now, are you?!” “I didn’t, ma! She started it!” but before he could finish his sentence, he’d gotten the first smack around the head. One down, one more to go. So Teddy upped the tears and it worked beautifully: the second boy didn’t wait for his mother to hear, but decided to run instead. Slowly, Teddy started to calm down, because if she just stood up now and showed it was all fake, everything would’ve been for nothing. She made that mistake once with Finn, and she wouldn’t be doing so again. After about a minute, chaos had descended on the fair. Men were fighting, Tommy was making an already nervous man simply anxious and this side of the camp was almost deserted. But where was Johnny? Teddy got up and hid near the beautiful horse. And then she saw him: somehow Johnny had ended up in the middle of the fight as well. This could ruin everything! “Come,” Teddy beckoned, “Come here! I promise I won’t hurt you…” and much to her own surprise, the horse obeyed. She untied the reigns and like he’d always been hers, he followed her down into the river. Teddy swam a little, wondered for only a second what Aunt Polly would say, and then climbed up onto the horse’s back in the water. From there on, she made a quick decision and urged the horse on. The river was low and couldn’t be seen all the way from the camp, so she kept the route of invisibility. After a while, she spurred the horse on and he climbed the riverside, with the tiny load still on his back. From this distance, Teddy could still see the fair, but because of the trees she was certain they couldn’t see her. “Now what?” she asked the horse, because she hadn’t really thought this through. In reply it neighed. “Shh!” Teddy scolded, “you want me to get caught?” So she steered the horse by its manes and made her way to where the family car was parked. With some luck, everyone else would still be too busy fighting. *** “Teddy!” Teddy turned her head and saw her brothers running, with sheer panic in their eyes. “Where the fuck were you?” Tommy demanded. Teddy shrunk a little at the anger in his voice, “I didn’t know where to go so I went here…” “Car. Now!” Tommy fumed. “That was actually smart, Tom,” Arthur defended her. Tommy ran a hand through his hair and sighed, “I thought something happened to you… That’s why I tell you not to leave my fucking side!” “I’m sorry…” she whimpered and tears started forming in her eyes again. “Don’t even try that,” John joked, “We know you can pretend now.” Looking caught, Teddy tried to hide the smile she shared with John. “That’s it, Tom,” Arthur walked back and forth to get rid of the adrenaline still coursing through his body, after they found there little sister was missing, “We’re not using our bloody sister again, for anything!” “Agreed,” Tommy said at once. “I thought you wanted the horse?” Teddy questioned. Again Tommy sighed and he lit another cigarette, “No fucking horse is worth losing you over, Teddy.” And that’s when she realised he wasn’t angry, just worried. “No fucking horse,” Arthur agreed. “But…” she started. John interrupted, “Forget about the horse, Teddy, we’re just glad you’re okay.” “But…” “Besides, we can get a horse some other way, eh?” Tommy continued, “Might even pay for it…” “But…” Tommy held up a hand, “Stop interrupting me, Teddy.” Instead Teddy interrupted him, “But the fucking horse is fucking here!” she pointed beyond the car at the woods, “Look! I rode him here after Johnny didn’t show up!” “I’ll be fucking damned,” Arthur blurted out, “she rode the fucking horse here.” John burst out laughing and simply high-fived Teddy, but Tommy looked as stunned as Arthur did. Anxiously, Teddy waited for Tommy’s reply, occasionally saying things like, “Johnny wasn’t coming,” and “my tears were almost dried up,” and “it wasn’t really my fault, the horse just followed me!” “Teddy Shelby,” Tommy said finally, “you little horse thief…” “You told me to,” Teddy said pointedly, but couldn’t quite hide the pride in her voice. “Oh, so this is our fault, eh?” Teddy shrugged and put on an angelic face, “Well, Arthur taught me how to steal, John taught me how to cry and you told me what to do…”

He pointed at her, “You’re heading the right way for a smacked backside...” Again Tommy looked at the horse and then he coughed a short laugh, “Alright, you win. We’re all horse thieves. Go get your horse.” “Mine?” “Yours.” As Teddy got the horse, the brothers still couldn’t get over the fact that she just did all of that. “Before we go home, there’s just one more thing, Teddy,” Tommy said, “Tell me again what I made you promise.” “Don’t tell Aunt Polly about this.” “Or?” he said menacingly, hoping he still had some authority over her by usually being the one who punished her, when he wasn’t teaching her how to steal that is… “She’ll have your balls.” Tommy eyed his two brothers who doubled over in laugher, but decided to ignore that. “Good girl.”

*** Masterlist

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