#and make me watch my fucking mouth xander i dare you

[cutestlittlekoi]

"You're such a fucking brat."

Xander aggressively slammed his door, leaving Alexis in the hallway alone, fist clenched, face red in embarrassment.

Roommates. They suck. Especially when your roommate happens to be your high school bully.

Alexis was everyones favorite. Endless friends, lunch dates, swooning boys, and academic achievements was her daily life. Xander was the, per say, 'bad boy' stereotype. All the girls loved him. He got his dick wet almost daily, building a reputation for himself. Athletic, attractive, smart, but only used it for trouble. And that's what he found when he met Alexis. What a perfect target for his daily abuse. Constant shoves in the hallways, jokes about their appearance, pinches and flicks that evolved into harassment. An honest dick, in general. Years of torment she put up with. Until finally Alexis was free. High school graduation came and went, Alexis found a career path in video editing and photography, using skating professionally and an undercover OnlyFans account as extra cash on the side. Of course, being on her own for the first time was scary, so in order to combat loneliness and financial strain, she looked for a roommate. Finally, she came across an ad, desperate for anyone. It only took 2 days of planning before she moved in, excited to find out the house was only some old high school buddies. Little did she know, that included Xander. Right across the hall from her. On the second story. That no one else inhabited but the two of them. Ironic, right? Relishing in their high school days, Xander took his opportunity to make Alexis' life hell more than it already was. He stopped laundry mid wash, unplug her monitors and equipment, leave her cameras on to drain the batteries, move her personal stuff from cabinets, and "misplace" her chargers. Finally, Alexis had enough when he found out about her private OnlyFans and threatened to leak her identity.

"How do you think your parents will feel about that? Your clientele? All your little friends? Hell, even your own roommates? You think they'll want that kind of attention here?" Xander laughed sadistically, facing the teary-eyed girl that stood before him.

"I...You...Just..." She stumbled over her words, threatening to break at any moment.

"Aww, what? Are you gonna cry? How fucking pathetic. You're so sad, just a little loser, huh?"

That was it. Something snapped in her. The teasing, the harassment, the torture, the constant fighting. It finally got to her. She looked up at Xander, feeling a new found anger and confidence all in one.

"Fuck you."

"What did you just say to me?"

"Fuck. You. You absolute pathetic piece of shit. You're worth nothing. You look down on others to feel better about yourself! You're nothing but a sniveling, pathetic, unworthy, steaming pile of shit. I hate you."

Xander stared in amazement at her. Did she just stand up to him? No, she wouldn't dare. But she did? What does he do now? He never expected her to snap like that. But he knew one thing. He didn't like it.

"You're such a fucking brat."

Xander aggressively slammed his door, leaving Alexis in the hallway alone, fist clenched, face red in embarrassment. She yelled in frustration and turned and stomped down the hallway to the bathroom. Once inside, she washed her face, catching her breath. Her roommates were going out of town that day, already having left the house, so it was just her and Xander. But she didn't care right now. She was simply just hoping he'd get the hint and leave her alone for that bit of time.

Stalking back to her room, she sighed, feeling herself get heavy. What was it about him that made her so irritated? She could live without his torment and sleep peacefully at night. But she couldn't bring herself to leave. Why? What was her issue? She didn't want to admit he was attractive, or that she stared at his body when he was shirtless, or that his swearing was occasionally hot, because she was supposed to hate him. But as she laid in bed that night, she couldn't help but feel herself get wet at the idea of him between her legs.

After several minutes, it became unbearable and she had to reach her small hand down to feel herself through her shorts. Her legs ached as she arched her back, a gentle moan escaping her lips. She didn't care about her soft noises, considering Xander would be fast asleep by now and it would be just her. But unbeknownst to her, a particular person was listening. Getting up to get a water bottle, Xander opened his door, taking one step out before he heard a certain noise, quite familiar to him. Not being able to help himself, he quietly crossed the hall to Alexis' door, pressing his ear to it, only to be welcomed by a symphony of whimpers. Scoffing, he rolled his eyes in disgust. Until one of said whimpers included his name. Intrigued, he pressed further, hearing unholy confessions involving him spilling from Alexis' lips. It wasn't before long that he had his own problem to take care of, cursing himself and rushing back to his room to gather his thoughts.

The next morning, life continued as normal. Alexis hopped downstairs, wearing a perfect little skirt, some pretty pink fishnets, knee high cat socks, an oversized tshirt, and a darling choker accented by matching rings on corresponding hands. Bouncing into the kitchen, she leaned against the counter trying to reach the cereal. Only to be outstretched by a larger hand dazzled in rings. She shrunk down, watching as Xander picked it off the shelf, chuckling behind her. It sent chills down her spine. Did she have a newfound attraction to him?? No, no, it can't be. She turned around, coming face to face with the tall man as he towered over her. An intimidation tactic. She gasped as he pushed her up against the counter.

"Well, look who's brave enough to show their face."

Alexis scowled, moving out the side to get away from him. Xander laughed, putting the cereal back on its respective shelf. He leaned against the counter, watching carefully as Alexis crossed the kitchen to open the fridge, getting out a water bottle. As she bends down, he gets a beautiful view of the underside of her thighs and curve of her ass. He smirks, seeing her stand back up, turning around to glare at him as she heads towards the entrance to retreat to her room. Before she gets the chance to escape, Xander grabs her arm. Alexis' turns and stares up at him, startled for a second before she attempts to yank her arm from his grasp. He only tightens his grip, causing her to question him.

"Let me go, what's your deal?"

"Oh, so you don't wanna explain what last night was about?"

She rolls her eyes.

"So what? I stood up to you, get over it."

She turned to exit again, only to be pulled back and slammed back first against the counter. She cried out in pain, pushing against Xander with all her might. But he only grabbed her chin, forcing to make eye contact with him. Alexis whimpered, making Xander chuckle.

"I'm not talking about that, brat."

"W-What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, bitch. I heard you moaning my name, begging for me. I may be too blind to see it, but I'm definitely not too deaf."

Alexis gasped, turning immediately red. Quickly, she began to struggle, hitting Xander in the stomach. He groaned and backed into the opposing stove, while Alexis made a run for her room. Xander composed himself, and chased after her, catching up quickly. He wrapped an arm around her waist, throwing her over his shoulder and carrying her into his room. Tossing her on his bed, he turned and locked his door quickly, despite her protest. She quickly backed away further into his bed when he advanced towards her. Grabbing both of her legs, he yanked her back down, his strength winning over hers. Tears formed in her eyes as she covered her face, flustered by her obvious vulnerability to him. He rips her hands away from her face, slapping her before forcing her to look back at him. Dazed, her mouth falls open, allowing him to spit into it. He forces her to close and swallow, tears falling out of her now closed eyes, giving up her fight.

"See, now was that so hard, darling?"

Alexis whimpered in response, letting her arms fall limp next to her.

"Aww, poor darling. Giving in to me." Xander runs his thumb across her bottom lip, eyes glistening in anticipation and excitement.

"God, I wonder what that pretty little mouth feels like." He marvels at her reaction, her eyes flying open and looking at him with fear. He laughs, a sadistic smile coming across his face.

"First, I want to get a taste."

He leans down, gripping her chin, kissing her soft lips. Xander groans into her mouth, making her whimper and her eyes flutter. Her mouth falls open again out of pleasure, letting him slip his tongue in. He chuckles against her lips. How easy it was to overpower her. Eventually, he pulls away, a trail of saliva still connecting the two. Alexis pants, feeling herself get wet from the minimal contact. She goes to reach her hand down to her aching cunt, only to be slapped again by Xander. He growls at her, while she winces in pain, tears streaming from her eyes once again.

"Don't you fucking dare. I tell you when you can touch, understand?"

She absentmindedly nods her head. Still in a trance, she snaps out of her head, only to find she's on the floor. Her knees touch the soft carpet, as she sits back in her heels. She gently tilts her head up, greeted by Xander's hand caressing her stinging, red cheek.

"Now, precious, I want you to show me what you can offer me. If you do good enough, I'll let you have my cock."

Alexis whimpers at his words, agreeing to his terms. Xander takes the invitation, undoing his belt, and unbuttoning his jeans. Once done, he sets his belt on the bed, saving it for later. He reaches down, rubbing his bulge over his boxers, his cold rings stinging against his burning, thinly clothed skin. Alexis watches with lidded eyes, mouth watering at the sight. How is she turned on by this? It was wrong. Yet, she needed it. She wanted it. But she'd never openly admit it. Or so she thinks.

"Open up, I'm gonna use that pretty little tongue to my liking, understand?"

Alexis dutifully opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out. Xander quickly pulled his throbbing cock out, gently stroking himself. Precum dripped from his tip, showing his excitement. Soon, Xander was forcing his shaft down Alexis' throat, feeling the warmth of her mouth surrounding him. He groans, leaning his head back as his fists her hair. Tears well in her eyes, but from how big he is this time. He begins using her mouth to his pleasure, shoving his cock down her throat, fucking it to his liking. Moans fill the room as he pants out curses. Alexis feels herself getting wetter and wetter, soaking her pretty pink panties, legs aching from desperation. Finally, after several minutes, Xander pulls out of her mouth, panting and breathing heavily as his cock pulses from the lack of contact. He picks Alexis up, forcing her down on the bed. He reaches into his adjacent night stand, pulling out his pretty little pistol. Alexis' eyes widen as she gasps. Xander whips around, gently shushing her, putting the gun against her stomach.

"It's ok, pretty. I'm not gonna hurt ya. If, you listen to me like a good girl."

She whimpers a quick agreement, fear paralyzing her body. Xander reaches his free hand down, pulling her soaked panties to the side, rubbing up and down her slit. Alexis moans and arches her back, rolling her eyes and whimpering as Xander presses the gun further against her. He pressed his tip against her entrance, feeling her body tense up. He chuckles lightly, running the gun down to her lower stomach, pressing firmly.

"Let me in, pretty."

Alexis quickly relaxes, eyes closing tightly as she grips the sheets. Slowly, Xander pushes in, grunting when he hits her cervix only 2/3 inside of her.

"Oh, aren't you just a tiny little thing?" He groans, feeling her cunt clench around him.

"That's it baby, come on."

Xander begins sliding in and out of her slick hole, and before long, moans flood the room. He looks up to see Alexis completely overwhelmed with pleasure. Drool leaks from her mouth, eyes lidded, moans and pants flowing out of her mouth like words. Completely in Xander’s hands. He picks up speed, hitting all of her soft spots expertly, cussing loudly when she tightens around him, whimpering his name. Soon, she starts arching her back, pressing against the gun, fisting the sheets, crying out for Xander. He gathers that she’s cumming, feeling her gush around his cock. He restrains himself from cumming solely from that, trying to enjoy this moment. But he can only try so hard. He moves his hands on either side of Alexis, ditching the gun on the bed, and grabbing his belt. He carefully wraps it around Alexis’ throat, tightening it, letting her gasp for air. She lets out an exasperated beg for Xander, making him pull harder. He leaned down to her exposed jawline, biting roughly and leaving a large hickey. He pounds in and out of her faster as he bruises her uncovered neck, leaning up towards her ear.

“I’m close. I want you to cum again, pretty. Understand? I’m gonna fill you up nice and good, ok?”

Alexis moans, not being able to comprehend what he says. It wasn’t long before she was cumming again, screaming out his name, gripping desperately to the bed, gasping for air. It pushed him over the edge, him groaning her name, pushing one final time against her cervix as he bred her sweet cunt. Xander panted, resting his head against her shoulder, eventually pulling out of her. Thoughts flooded his head of what was to come the next day, but oh-fucking-well. All he cared about was cleaning Alexis up, and falling asleep next to her.

[heyyyharry]

In Another Life Series: Chapter 2 - The Assistant

...in which Harry’s got a new assistant and Y/N’s got a new job.

Series description: Y/N and Harry are soulmates and destined to meet in every lifetime, but no matter how many times they reincarnate and find each other again, they never seem to get it right.

AU: reincarnation, soulmate!harry, prince!harry, and assistant!y/n

I hope you guys enjoy this, questions are very welcomed.

Chapter 1 - The Painting Harry and Y/N come across a strange portrait in an art museum.

~~~

The young Prince hurried his feet down the corridor to his father’s meeting room. Though the guards tried to stop him from disturbing the King, he was in no way affected by their warnings.

“Stop me and I’d have you all beheaded,” he growled and the men in armors immediately backed away. 

Knowing the Prince their whole lives, all the servants of the royal court had no doubt that he would always put his words into actions. So of course, for fear of losing their heads, these men had to let him through.

“Father, may I speak with you?” The Prince spoke when he barged into the room all of a sudden. Still his entrance didn’t steal the King’s attention away from the open book in front of him.

“Edward, did I just hear you threaten to have my guards’ heads?” The old monarch shifted a bit in his chair, making the young man flinch in anxiety.

The King was the only person in the world who could have the Prince shaking in his boots, which was why Edward had never failed to follow his father’s every wish since the day he was born. This time, however, would be an exception.

“Father, I was informed about the Princess’ visit.”

“Good.” The King lifted his face and gave his son a firm stare. “You should be getting ready, she’d be here soon.”

“With all due respect, father, I am not going to marry a girl I do not know.”

“She’s the Princess of France.”

“I don’t care who she is. I do not love her.” Edward could not believe he dared to say that himself, still he stood tall with no sign of weakness, exactly like his father had taught him.

But instead of showing his concern, the King appeared a bit too calm in reaction to his son’s objection to the marriage arrangement.

“Spending too much time with your mother, I see.” He shook his head side to side slowly. “Edward, royalties do not marry for love, we marry for duty. And your duty to the kingdom is having that French girl as your wife, for the French are one of our strongest allies.”

“So you do not love my mother?”

“I love the Queen, because I am married to her, not the other way around,” the King asserted as he closed the book in front of him and intertwined his fingers on the table, not a single smile displayed upon his thin lips.

“You are going to marry this Princess, then you will learn to love her.”

...

For the past fifteen minutes, Harry had been pacing back and forth in the studio with his phone clutched in his hand. His girlfriend hadn’t replied to his latest text or called him back and he knew all too well that meant nothing but trouble. It wasn’t the first time they fought though. In fact, they hadn’t gone through one month in their two years together without at least one big argument. It always began with her getting mad at something he did or said, and ended with him begging on his knees for her to stay.

Jeff had been watching Harry from the couch for a while now, and even though it wasn’t him who’s in hot water, he still got pretty frustrated.

“Harold, could you please just sit down?”

“Lillie, she-”

“Enough with Lillie! You have more important things to take care of over here.” Jeff exhales, patting on the pile of folders in front of him to get Harry’s attention. 

“What are those?”

“Job applications.”

Harry breathed out a laugh, then realized Jeff wasn’t joking. “I already told you I didn’t need a personal assistant.”

“Yes, Harry, you sure as hell need one. You’re going to be so busy once your second tour starts.”

“The last assistant sold my private info to the press. I don’t trust anyone else, I’ve got you.”

“I cannot help you with everything, Haz! I’ve read and picked out these excellent applications, your job is just to decide which one.”

“Okay then.” Harry bent down and pulled out a random folder in the pile, then handed it to his manager. “This one.”

“But you haven’t even read what’s inside!”

“But you have, and I trust you.” Harry grinned, just in time his phone notified him of a new text from his girlfriend, and he wasted no time to make his way to the exit. “Could you please take care of the rest? I will be right back!”

“Harry!”

“I promise!” shouted Harry from the door as the sound of his footsteps faded away in the hallway.

...

“With me in the studio right now is the lovely and talented singer/songwriter Lillie Xander!”

“Thank you for having me!”

“You’re welcome darling! So Lillie, your first single Him has reached number one in the UK, I mean, the song itself is a bop, but the fans cannot stop talking about the lyrics. They all want to know if this song is about your boyfriend Harry Styles.”

“I think the lyrics are fairly self-explanatory. I’m in a happy relationship and I think it’s common for artists to write from personal experiences. I hope that answers your question.”

“It certainly does, thanks love. Now, let’s listen to Him from Lillie’s new album ‘French Rose’ coming out this October!”

“Hey! Give me back my phone!”

Y/N ignored her friend’s reaction as she turned the iPhone’s volume down, then handed the device back to the girl.

“Did you have to listen to your radio show that loud, Lisa?” Y/N snorted, receiving a disapproving glare from her friend.

“Because that’s Lillie fucking Xander!”

“Well, I’m trying to concentrate!” said Y/N as she marched out of the kitchen, back to the couch where she’d left her unfinished sketch. Lisa pulled herself a chair by the dining table and paused her radio show to check on her friend.

“Weird, I haven’t seen you draw again in months, getting all inspired by that museum date?”

Y/N paused the movements of her pencil on the paper and looked up, receiving a playful grin from Lisa.

“Okay, first of all, it wasn’t a date,” she clarified, squinting her eyes as she put the pencil down. “Second of all, don’t even mention Jason, okay?”

“Come on, how long are you gonna stay mad at him?”

“He tried to kiss me, Lisa! He’s been my best friend since first grade now I can’t even look at him!”

“At least talk it out like adults, you can’t ignore him forever.”

Just as Lisa finished her sentence, Y/N’s phone on the dining table started ringing, announcing her of an incoming call. Lisa reached out to grab it and Y/N immediately shouted from the couch, telling her friend not to answer.

“It’s not Jason! Unknown caller ID!”

“Don’t answer that either, it could be Jason using someone else’s number!”

“Hello? Yes, this is Y/N’s number.”

“Lisa!” 

“No, I’m her friend.”

“What are you doing, Lis?!”

Y/N fled from the couch, straight into the kitchen, quickly attempted to grab her phone away but Lisa’s facial expression stopped Y/N dead in her track. 

“Okay here she is.” Lisa covered the phone with her other hand and her eyebrows knitted together as she whispered aggressively to Y/N, “Jeffrey Azoff is on the fucking phone!”

The news was a bolt from the blue to Y/N, she was too shocked to know what to say, but Lisa kept mouthing to her to answer it, and she was left with no other choice.

Y/N took the phone, trying to calm her breathing as she brought it to her ear and muttered the word, “hello?”

“Is this Y/N Y/L/N?” asked the male voice on the other line.

“Yes, it’s me.”

“Hi, I’m Jeffrey Azoff, Harry Styles’ manager.” Y/N was rooted to the spot when she heard those two names in the same sentence, but it wasn’t the only surprise she was gonna get today. 

“Congratulations, Y/N, you’ve got the job!”

[angelicdestieldemon]

School Secret

This was written quite a while ago but it was posted on my fan fiction account but it has finally made its way here. This is part one of a two part (maybe more in the future) story and I hope you enjoy it!

Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Hamilton were the two most attractive teachers in the school. They also hated each other if their constant arguing, or as they called it debating, was anything to go by. So naturally, the entire school shipped them together. The biggest shippers were their student government members: Lafayette, Hercules, John, Angelica, Eliza, and Peggy.  

No one is quite sure how it all started but at some point, one student deemed that the relationship between the two teachers was full of Unresolved Sexual Tension (UST). So now the student government were trying to get their teachers to hook up or at least kiss already.  

--XOX--  

"Ok, I promised a while ago that we could go on a trip to the National Museum and finally our lord and master has granted my request so next Monday we will not be in class." Mr. Jefferson told his class.  

He smiled at the 'whoops' and 'cheers' he got in response from his class.  

"Sir?" A voice asked from in front of his desk.  

Thomas looked up and found the three Schuyler sisters at his desk.  

"Yes, miss Schuyler?"  

"Sir, because there are more than 20 pupils in this class, won't you need another teacher to come along?" Angelica asked innocently.  

Thomas restrained the smirk he could feel trying to break free.  

"Yes I will, do you have anyone in mind you think I should ask?" He replied with the same faux innocence.  

"You could always ask Mr. Hamilton, sir. I'm sure he would enjoy coming with us, he is quite into history." Eliza replied smoothly, the innuendo in her words seemingly innocent.  

"I suppose, I could but I would have to ask the Headmaster if our esteemed mess of an English teacher could be excused for a whole day. Leave it with me girls."  

"Thanks, Mr. Jefferson." The girls responded in unison before leaving the class when the bell rung.  

Once he was sure his students had gone he took out his phone from his pocket and typed out a text.  

To: Xander <3

U were right. They want me to ask you to come.

Xx

Thomas sent the text while smiling to himself. He grabbed the next pile of essays that needed marking and grabbed his purple highlighter. He was only half way through the first essay when his phone vibrated on his desk.  

From: Xander <3

Told u so! They ship the fuck out of us xx

From: Xander <3

Oh and I accept ur grand invitation xx

Thomas smiled to himself at the messages before sending one back.  

To: Xander <3

I said they wanted me to ask, doesn't mean I actually want u to come.

Xx

From: Xander <3

U wound me, love  

BTW it's ur turn to cook tonite xx

To: Xander <3

Mac and Cheese?  

Xx

From: Xander <3

Don’t u dare! Xx

Thomas smiled once more before putting his phone away and finished his marking.  

--XOX--  

They had arrived at the Museum just before it opened to make the most of the day. They only had to wait outside for roughly 5 minutes before they were let inside. Immediately everyone split up in different directions knowing that they had to meet back at the entrance at 1 pm to go have lunch.  

Alexander and Thomas had sat at opposite ends of the bus trying to maintain the hateful relationship they had at school, meanwhile texting each other throughout the journey.  

Thomas was wearing his stupid purple coat that looked gorgeous on him and Alexander was trying not to drool at the sight. He especially tried to ignore all the memories that coat was involved in and all the things that he had done to Thomas while Thomas was wearing the coat.  

Once he was sure all the students were gone Alexander grabbed Thomas by the hand dragged him down an empty corridor leading to, most likely, the toilets. Thomas found himself pushed against the wall with his husband pressed against him.  

"You were not wearing this coat when we left home this morning," Alex growled into Thomas' ear.  

The jackass managed a smug smile before Alexander pulled his head down into a kiss. Thomas' smile disappeared as he focused on his husband's lips on his. He knew they shouldn't be doing this here, in broad daylight, one of the students might see but he couldn’t help himself. He loved Alexander more than he thought was possible. They melted into each other, enjoying the feel of each other's bodies pressed against each other and their mouths slotted together. Thomas' hands rested on his husband's hips while Alexander's were wrapped around Thomas's neck.  

When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested against each other. Their eyes remained closed, just reveling in the moment.  

"We should probably check out the museum at least a little bit," Alexander whispered.  

"Hmmm. Yeah, we probably should." Thomas replied.  

With one last chaste kiss, they broke apart and walked back out into the main area of the museum.  

--XOX--  

"Hey, guys I think I left my purse at reception," Peggy told her friends.  

"Are you sure you don’t have it?" Hercules asked.  

"Yeah, I can't find it and I remember having when we got here," Peggy said, trying not to worry.  

"It's cool we'll come with you to go get it," John said.  

"You don’t have to, I can just go back myself," Peggy replied.  

"That wouldn’t be, how you say, chivalrous of us would it mon chérie," Laf said, making Peggy smile.  

The group walked back to reception and Peggy found her purse on top of the counter.  

"Thank god." She said, relieved.  

They were about to go back to look at the exhibits when they heard the sound of something hitting the wall.  

"Did you hear that?" Eliza asked the group.  

Everyone nodded looking slightly puzzled.  

"It sounded like it came from down there," Angelica said, pointing to the corridor leading to the toilets.  

The group went to investigate and were met with the image of Mr. Hamilton holding Mr. Jefferson against the wall.  

"Should we do something? They look like they are about to fight." John whispered but before anyone could answer him, Mr. Hamilton pulled Mr. Jefferson's head down and kissed him.  

They group watched dumbfounded as the two teachers kissed like it wasn’t the first time and after a few minutes of slow making out the two teachers pulled apart just enough to rest their foreheads together. It was silent, they didn't talk and neither did the students. Finally, Mr. Hamilton said something and the two teachers kissed again before breaking apart completely.  

The students quickly ran back down the corridor leading to the exhibits, all with smiles on their faces: they knew their teachers were together!  

--XOX--  

After catching their teachers making out like teenagers in the museum, Eliza, Peggy, Angelica, John, Hercules, and Laf came up with a plan to make their teachers sit together this time on the bus instead of apart like they had on the way over.  

When they were leaving the museum they made sure the only two seat remaining were at the front of the bus together. Leaving the teacher no choice but to sit next to each other. John watched his favourite two teachers try to act put out at the prospect of sitting next to each but after seeing them earlier he knew that this was all an act.  

And hey, if the six students saw the teachers discreetly hold hands while on their phones, well they didn’t say anything.  

[krystalreverb]

Crown Prince

here we go guys yet another let's do this

laslow's pissed you guys watch out because laslow is P I S S E D

this is a quick little implied sexy fic because I feel bad about not having wifi at home so I had to lug my computer to my boyfriend’s house to post my terrible fanfiction, my endings are crap, but here you go

CW: violence, blood, implied sexual content

Laslow had just sat down to eat. This was not what he needed this morning. It was 5:30 in the morning, and Laslow just wanted to eat. But here he was, listening to a group of obviously extremely stupid wyvern knights chattering back and forth simply inches from him at the next table over. A shadow passed, but did not alert Laslow.

“I'm just saying, for a guy who's supposed to be leading us, he doesn't do a whole lot of his own work, does he?”

“I mean, he's supposed to be the prince, but he's like, totally stiff and harsh. I don't think there's a person alive who's seen him smile. He's like one of those Hoshidan automatons, all lifeless and stern.”

“Ahem.” Laslow finally interrupted.

“Oh, great. It's the prince's little lapdog. What, gonna cite us for a little talk?”

“I may do more than cite you if you continue. Prince Xander is a bloody fucking saint, and you lot have no idea what he's been through.”

“I'm just saying, he could lighten up a little.”

“Could you, in his circumstances? He's responsible for hundreds of thousands of soldiers. You lot included. I have seen him hunched over his desk at 4 in the morning, reviewing troop orders. I have seen him at his worst, and you lot don't deserve the mercy of his smile.”

“Listen to this guy! What a load of shit. You're his personal retainer, of course you're obviously sleeping with him.”

“Excuse you!” Laslow stood. “I don't appreciate this attack on my character, or the attack on his! I suggest you smarten up and recant before you see exactly what I mean!”

“Come on, then! Tell us! What makes the high and mighty Prince Xander tick?”

“You lot have no idea what it's like. Do you have any idea how much a crown prince sacrifices? You sacrifice your happiness, your freedom, your very soul again and again, shielding pain, because without you the army would crumble, and your kingdom along with it. Do you know what it's like, coming back from a raid limping and bleeding, but having to put on a smile because showing weakness would be a death sentence?” Laslow was almost frothing at the mouth with anger. “Prince Xander sacrifices so much of his personal freedoms and liberties just so you lot all stay alive through the next day! Without him, I have no doubt you will all fall to some sniper's arrow in the middle of the night. Do you have any idea what he's been through? I don't think you do!”

“Alright, now you're just getting mouthy. He's a prince. He has all the money and power he could ever want. Who wouldn't be a little fucking happy with that? And he still shoves people away. You can't talk to the guy! He just brushes you off.”

“He doesn't have the opportunity to be happy about that! Don't you understand?”

“Name one person he hasn't shoved away and alienated because of his machismo fuckin' harshness.”

“He still has me!” Laslow roared. “I am by Lord Xander's side day after day. I haven't taken a bloody day off in months because this war is still raging. I, too, have stayed up far beyond a healthy bed time helping him. Lord Xander makes it a requirement that both of his retainers know how to sign his name properly. He simply is loaded with too much work to do it all himself.”

“Ha ha ha! Such a dutiful little lapdog! Tell us, does he reward you? Tickle your ivories, late at night?”

Laslow swore he felt a vein in his forehead threaten to burst from stress. He gritted his teeth.

“Alright, I'm going to give you to the count of three. If I don't see some recanting, I'm going to recant your fucking noses into your skulls. One.”

“Really? You're gonna fight all of us? In case you haven't noticed, numbnuts, there's ten of us and one of you.”

“Two.”

“He's really gonna do this. Alright, boys, form up. Let's show this little pampered poodle who the real men in this army are.”

“Three.” Laslow's fist launched into a soldier's nose, knocking him clean off his feet. Blood sprayed from his ruined nose. Laslow jabbed out an elbow, slamming one guy in the side with it, making him double over. He flipped his fist up, smashing him in the face and sending him reeling backwards.

One guy got behind Laslow and locked his arms above his head. To retaliate, Laslow jumped high, curled up, then slammed back down with enough force to throw the guy over his head and into the far wall, breaking both of the poor bastard's arms in the process.

The mess hall burst into chants of “Fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!”

The knights started playing dirty, coming at Laslow two or even three at a time. One-by-one, Laslow knocked them all unconscious with well-placed punches to their heads, one after the other. It was almost a beautiful dance, the way he flipped and spun around the knights trying to hit him. Not a single hit was landed on Laslow. Soon, Laslow was surrounded by a squad of fallen wyvern knights, broken and bleeding. Laslow's fist dripped with blood, not all of it his own. Laslow looked up.

He locked eyes with Xander.

Laslow bolted, running out of the mess hall, abandoning his breakfast.

“Laslow!” Xander called, but it was too late. The mess hall quieted into a dull murmur of shame at their behavior.

Xander went running after Laslow. He found him, washing the blood off his hands in the kitchen's sink. “Laslow.”

“I'm terribly sorry you had to see that, milord. I didn't know you were there.” Laslow said quickly.

“Laslow, you were defending my honor. I'm not upset.”

“I just punched out ten Nohrian wyvern knights with my bare hands, and you're not upset?”

“I'm mildly annoyed it resorted to violence but they kind of had it coming. I suppose I should be grateful I have such a dutiful and strong retainer.”

Laslow chuckled. “It's strange, a bit. I have such intimate knowledge of what it takes to survive in wartime. It isn't easy. Those knights seemed to be under the impression that you're untouchable, infallible, like you're something more than human. You're a human being, milord, regardless of your status, we're all the same in the end, just a sack of bones and meat. And I saw many of my friends die in war. Every day I had to put on a smile, just so my dearest friends would keep up morale on the battlefield. Everyone looked up to me for strength. And here I am, a foreigner trying to make my way in Nohrian society.” he rambled on for a bit. “But I... I heard them, and I... just snapped. How dare they? You do everything for them. Your very soul is fractured, and you're doing everything you can to hold it together. If they can't see how much you do to ensure their survival... then maybe they don't deserve it. No.... no, I shouldn't say that.” Laslow shook his head and fished around in the kitchens for something he could use to dress his wounds.

Xander stepped forward, removed his gauntlets, put them on the counter, and gently took Laslow's hands in his, murmuring a healing spell as he ran his thumb over Laslow's wounds softly. The  glow of the magic washed over his flesh and his bloodied knuckles were slowly healed, skin and muscle knitting back together over the wounds.

Laslow breathed a sigh of relief. “I truly am sorry you had to hear that.”

“Shhh.” Xander hushed him gently. “You've shown great strength and conviction of character. You only hurt them to defend me. Those knights, when they wake up, will be subject to a court martial for insubordination.”

Laslow took a couple deep breaths, but couldn't hold it, and broke down sobbing. Xander rushed forward and gathered him in his arms, giving him an armored shoulder to cry on.

“I'm s-so-sorryyy.... I c-can't.... I'm such a fucking fraud....”

“What do you mean, Laslow?”

“You o-o-ought to k-know the truth.... can we speak somewhere more private?” Laslow sniffled.

“Of course. Come with me, we can speak in my study.” Xander took Laslow's hand gently and took him to his study, locking the door behind them.

“Okay.. Okay.... Okay. Here it is.” Laslow broke down and explained everything, from the origins of his birth, to the tremendous battle with Grima, to being sent to Nohr and fighting for Lord Xander. “So you see, m-milord... I know what it's like, to be the pillar of strength for an army. To give up my own freedoms and happiness so that others may live. It's not easy.”

Xander slowly processed what Laslow had just told him. He was a prince, working under another prince. “....It appears you do.”

“I'm sorry, milord. At first, coming here was a job. But over time, I've grown attached. I could never and never will abandon you, my lord.”

Xander nodded slowly, still processing everything. “You've had such a fraught life, and you are still choosing to defend mine?”

“Absolutely. Until my dying breath, milord. I don't care if I die tomorrow or live another hundred years. As long as you would have me, I would be by your side.”

“But you were once a crown prince yourself.”

“Please. I told you about the war. There's nothing left of my home country. It's a barren wasteland. I'm not the prince of anything anymore.” Laslow shook his head. “Gods.... I'm just so angry. How dare they insinuate that you're not doing everything you can to help them?”

“I like how it's my honor you're defending and not that they insinuated you were sleeping with me.”

Laslow snorted. “Ha! How little they know. They think themselves regular detectives, they do. But they've missed so many clues.” He stepped forward, and Xander pulled up his chin just enough to kiss him deeply, pulling him into his arms.

“Perhaps they know too much.” Xander murmured against Laslow's lips.

“Would you have me take care of them, my lord? I can make it clean. I can make it look like an accident. Assassination is sadly one of my numerous wartime life skills. I can even set Peri up to do it. Nobody will dare court-martial her. Not unless they're willing to be messily parted from their flesh.”

“No.... No, don't kill them. Let them wonder. Let them fester.” Xander said. “Wouldn't it be grand? And they still don't know a single thing for sure.”

“You're so devious, milord... it's quite stunning.”

“I would hope so.” Xander kissed him again, and Laslow melted in, double-checking that the door was locked behind them before climbing up onto Xander's lap in his study chair.

“Strip me bare before you, milord. I am yours, and only yours. Only you get to see the scars I bear.”

“Yes....” Xander breathed softly, hands reaching up to unbutton Laslow's uniform shirt with practiced, deft fingers and sliding it off his shoulders and onto the floor.

The next time Laslow caught those ten knights (now reduced in rank and confined to the castle for an indeterminate period of time), they couldn't even look at Laslow, quiet and ashamed of their defeat. Lucky for Laslow, as he was sporting a rather large hickey on the side of his neck just under his jaw, not quite fully covered by his disheveled uniform's high collar. Laslow looked satisfied and pleased with himself, and when Xander strode in for lunch, Laslow simply gave him a smug look, and Xander smiled.

[marshmallow-the-vampire-slayer]

MTVS Epic Rewatch #198

BTVS 7x14 First Date

Stray thoughts

1) I really don’t think Snyder would’ve gotten such a huge… oh, wait. Inferiority complex. Yep. He totally would.

2) I really don’t understand why Giles is so upset about Buffy having Spike’s chip removed? Like, he worked alongside Angel when he had a soul and not once did he show concern about Angel attacking them or going on a killing spree. Moreover, the chip had proven to be useless if Spike was under the influence of The First, so whether he had it or not was kind of a moot point at the moment.

Oh. I think maybe Giles was upset that Buffy didn’t check with him first. Like, how dare she make such an important decision without asking for my opinion?

3) Chao-Ahn is hands down my favorite potential. There’s no contest, really.

4) How convenient…

GILES I have to ask—why on Earth did you make that decision?

BUFFY Guess it was instinct, like you were talking about.

GILES I made that up!

5) It’s ironic that Giles accuses Buffy of letting her feelings cloud her judgment because I think that’s exactly what he was doing. Giles despised Spike, and I don’t blame him, he had reason to. But he was letting his hatred of Spike get in the way of seeing the bigger picture: if the First wanted Spike dead, then they should guard him at all costs because he might be a key player in defeating The First – as he rather obviously turned out to be…

GILES Buffy, I want more for you. Your feelings for him are coloring your judgment. I can hear it in your voice.

I’m not saying that Buffy’s feelings for Spike weren’t influencing her decision-making because they obviously were. But… Buffy’s emotions had always been her strength, her emotions are what drive her instinct, and the fact that she didn’t voice a logical reason to explain her choices doesn’t mean that they were wrong.

6) This is so me as a teacher...

PRINCIPAL WOOD Um, what're you doing tonight?

BUFFY Preparing for tomorrow's counseling sessions.

PRINCIPAL WOOD No, really.

BUFFY Watching a reality show about a millionaire.

7) Why would he keep his knife collection at the school, though? Doesn’t make any sense!

8) ICONIC!!

BUFFY You know, it's not even that he's acting that suspicious. It's just—there he is. On the hell mouth. All day, every day. That's got to be like being showered with evil. Only from underneath.

WILLOW Not really a shower.

9) That’s a clumsy way of admitting you once were…

WILLOW Right. Help you move on.

BUFFY Why does everybody in this house think I'm still in love with Spike?

10) I genuinely had to stop watching to laugh for a solid minute after this…

GILES Yes, and the language barrier is formidable. I was concerned that my Mandarin is a little thin, but as it turns out, she speaks Cantonese, which is thinner. But we muddled through, and, as I suspected, ice cream is a universal language.

BUFFY What'd she say?

GILES She's grateful to be in the land of plenty. 

11) Oh, the double standards…

ANDREW  Um, I follow Buffy's orders now. I'm redeeming myself for... killing you... I mean, for... killing Jonathan.

JONATHAN/FIRST Really, why? So you can earn a spot on her little pep squad? You think she'll ever let you in? You're a murderer.

ANDREW Confidentially, a lot of her people are murderers. Anya and Willow and Spike.

JONATHAN/FIRST Interesting. And you're the only one she makes seek redemption. Does that seem fair to you?

You forgot Giles on that list, Andrew.

12) I love the little callback to Conversations with Dead People…

BUFFY Well, it is unclear. That's why I chose a top that says, you know, I'm comfortable in a stodgy office or a swinging casual setting—or killing you, you know, if you're a demon.

ANYA It also says I sometimes get blood on my shoulder. Or it might be pizza. I don't think I can fix it.

13) Such a great delivery on Emma’s part here…

ANYA And I wasn't talking about your date anyway. I was talking about this sham date of Xander's. I think it's part of a plan to make me jealous.

BUFFY Well, it's not working.

ANYA Are you nuts? Of course it's working. Observe my bitter ranting. Hear the shrill edge of hysteria in my voice!

14) Oh, but he does care…

SPIKE Heard you got a date.

BUFFY Well, it's unclear. I mean, I have this whole theory about a promotion. Or he's evil.

SPIKE Buffy, I'm all right.

BUFFY You don't have to—

SPIKE What? Be noble? I'm not. Really, I'm all right. Think I still dream of a crypt for two with a white picket fence? My eyes are clear.

15) Oh, Xander, you’re still the same awkward dork you were seven seasons ago…

XANDER I'm just glad you're here. You're gonna love the coffee. Got myself a redeye—it's black coffee with a shot of espresso. It's kinda rough if you're not used to that sort of thing—

LISSA It's hot cocoa.

XANDER Well, sometimes I don't sleep too good.

16) ICONIC! So glad to see Giles’s gory doodles back, I fucking love them.

ANYA Giles made them for Chao-Ahn, and now she's locked herself in the bathroom. There’re other girls upstairs, and they're starting to complain.

GILES Those are flashcards. I made them to facilitate her training. Chao-Ahn never had a watcher. The language problem...

WILLOW You showed her these?

GILES I wanted her to understand the seriousness of her situation.

DAWN Holy crap!

17) Well, excuse you, Giles, but if I knew the world was going to end, I’d like to get laid. And seeing your flashcards is all the more reason to.

GILES For God's sake! How can anyone think about their social life? We are about to fight the original primal evil. These girls are in mortal danger. Didn't you see the flashcards? This isn't right.

18) I wonder why Xander doesn’t quite disclose exactly what was that he did to Anya… could it be that he knows is way worse than “bad” and he doesn’t want to seem like a douche in front of the girl he’s flirting with? I’ve said it before, I don’t necessarily disagree with Xander’s decision not to get married – although he truly picked the second to worst possible moment to do it. That being said, if you did the deed, own up to it, call it for what it was – you left your girlfriend at the altar.

19) It’s nice to hear Robin’s “origin” story, so to speak, but I felt the scene was lacking emotion and gravity. This was kind of a big revelation as far as the Slayer lore goes, you know? But it’s a scene that just goes under the radar.

Anyway, I also feel it would be very unlikely for Robin not to know Spike was the vampire that killed his mother before coming to Sunnydale. He says he was raised by a watcher, and we know there were written records about the Fanged Four. Plus, we know how Spike loved to brag, so if he truly tried to track him down, he would’ve found him.

20)

21) I still don’t see why they would take ANYTHING the First said at face value! Like, Giles hears this…

SPIKE Why did it appear to this one, then? I thought it was supposed to be pulling my strings.

ANDREW It said it wasn't time for you yet.

…and you can see that he’s thinking: “I’m right, he’s a danger to us all, we have to get rid of him immediately!”

But why would The First disclose its real intentions to any of them, especially the ones it’s trying to manipulate?

It’s just so dumb that they couldn’t read the First’s intentions properly, especially Giles of all people, it annoys me.

22) I find this moment really funny, but when exactly did Xander manage to send the bat signal? Or did he send the “I just got lucky” signal and thankfully they interpreted it wrong?

WILLOW No, it's a text message. Oh, it's from Xander. It's one of our signals.

AMANDA Signals?

WILLOW Yeah, the system we set up a while back. Like codes. Uh, this one's either "I just got lucky, don't call me for a while" or "my date's a demon who's trying to kill me."

KENNEDY You don't remember which?

WILLOW It was a long time ago.

DAWN Well, if we play the percentages...

GILES Something's eating Xander's head.

23) #awkward

24) And how annoying is it that Robin keeps LOOKING at Spike in the rear-view mirror? You’re not supposed to see anything in the mirror because he’s a vampire, ya mook! And if you happen to look in the mirror and not see someone who should be there, don’t you think you’d go “ooh”?

(btw, before anyone suggests this, he's not pretending he doesn’t know because later on when they’re fighting, Spike turns, and he goes: “you’re a vampire” all surprised!)

25) All you need to know about this scene, you’ll find it here.

26) This scene is glorious!

27) This is probably one of my favorite whole-gang dialogues in the show.

WILLOW What happened?

XANDER What do you think happened? Another demon woman was attracted to me. I'm going gay. I've decided I'm turning gay. Willow, gay me up. Come on, let's gay.

WILLOW What?

XANDER You heard me. Just tell me what to do. I'm mentally undressing Scott Bakula right now. That's a start, isn't it?

ANDREW Captain Archer...

XANDER Come on, let's get this gay show on the gay road. Help me out here.

BUFFY What if you just start attracting male demons?

DAWN Clem always liked you.

ANYA It would serve you right.

GILES Children, enough.

XANDER I'd need some stylish new clothes.

28) I think Giles’ speech would’ve resonated better if he hadn’t picked up the flashcards again, I mean, come on…

But in all seriousness, I get that he wants them to focus and he might have a good point that they seem to be distracted with trifles. But… don’t you think they needed that? Don’t you think amidst all the death and danger and apocalypses they’d want to have at least some crumbs of normalcy? Don’t you think that’s what has kept them sane and helped them plow through it all?

But let’s keep this reaction in mind for future episodes, okay? Let’s try and remember how Giles’s speech might have affected Buffy and the way she handled herself as a leader moving forward, okay?

29) I’m just going to leave this here…

SPIKE It, uh, it talked to the little boy. Said it wasn't time for me yet. I should move out. Leave town before it is time for me.

BUFFY No, you have to stay.

SPIKE You've got another demon fighter now.

BUFFY That's not why I need you here.

SPIKE Is that right? Why's that then?

BUFFY 'Cause I'm not ready for you to not be here.

30) This woman is just… stunningly beautiful.

31) Again, why would you believe whatever the ultimate evil has to tell you? I mean, this time, it was the truth, but Robin had no way of knowing that, and he immediately believes it? Everyone’s so dumb, it makes me angry.

32) I should probably re-read my recaps and figure out exactly when I started to get so pissed because I think I’m becoming angrier and angrier at the characters with each episode that I rewatch and I’m not even on Empty Places yet. I dread that moment.

33) If you’ve got this far, thank you for reading! If you enjoy my recaps and my blog, please consider supporting it on ko-fi. Thanks!

[hyruviandoctor]

An Unfortunate Fate

I was asked by my good friend @neko-otaku13​ to do a writing prompt from the ask prompt list I reblogged earlier. Thank you so much Penelope!

“Here's an ask back: Number 97 for Fire Emblem Fates 😄 “

(Of course you’d ask me to do it for my least favorite Fire Emblem game XD)

Title: Court of Malice

Setting: Fire Emblem Fates (I decided to go with Conquest since I’m more familiar with that one). Sometime after Corrin joins his family in the Nohrian capital, but before all the awful really starts going down.

Summary: King Garron is in the middle of sentencing criminals for their crimes when an unexpected prisoner is brought in, forcing Corrin to question all he ever thought about his father.

Disclaimer: I don’t own Fire Emblem or its characters, but I totally wish I did.

Warning: There is a swear and also some dark themes present in this. I’d say it’s pretty in line with the dark tone of Conquest, but just a step further/extended in order to add a bit more emotion and realism.

Corrin stared at the man he called his father, disbelief coursing through him. What had he just heard? Had the Great King Garon really just condemned a man to death for stealing to feed his family, without even bothering to consider his plight?

Just what kind of man is Father? he asked himself. Is this truly how a kingdom is ruled? With an iron fist and no mercy?

His older brother Leo saw the look in his eyes and shook his head ever so slightly, as if to warn him not to continue this line of thinking. He was right of course; thinking this way would only lead to conflict, and Corrin didn’t need any more of that right now. His father already seemed to have disdain for Corrin and it would not be wise to provoke him, not even by allowing his concerns to show on his face.

As the guards brought in the next prisoner, Corrin felt his eyes widen in shock. The “criminal” that was being brought before King Garon was a young girl, younger than Elise by a good number of years. She was bound in chains and was covered in dirt and grime; her hair was tangled and frayed, and her skin was covered in wounds – some healed, some fairly fresh.

What could she have possibly done to warrant this? Corrin wondered, hoping the youth would receive some form of light judgement from the king.

King Garon sat calmly on his throne, his eyes showing no signs of concern for the girl.

“What is this one’s crime?” The king spoke without moving his gaze away from the girl, his voice tinged with boredom.

“Murder, my lord,” answered Iago. “This filth was found standing over the bodies of her parents with a bloodied dagger. It appears she killed them in their sleep. Slit their throats, in fact.”

That makes no sense, thought Corrin. There must be some explanation for this. Perhaps Father will –

“Death.”

The word resonated in the large stone throne room, cutting off Corrin’s musings. The girl’s head jerked up and tears began to well in her eyes.

“Please, my lord –“

Iago’s hand across her face silenced the trembling girl. Corrin felt anger swell up inside him. He couldn’t let such brazen cruelty go on any longer, no matter the consequences he would face.

“Iago! Stay your hand. There is no reason to torment this girl,” said Corrin, drawing a fierce look of anger from King Garon. “Father, I must ask you to please listen to this girl. It makes very little sense for her to have committed this crime, especially unprovoked.”

“Boy, it would be wise for you to stay your tongue. Speak out of turn again and I shall not be pleasant,” growled the king, his eyes aflame with fury.

“Yes Father. I apologize, Father. But if I may, this girl looks to have been abused. Perhaps that is the reason why she –,”

“I said silence! You dare question my judgement? I am your father – your king! You will show me respect or you will be punished severely.” Garon was seething with anger as he berated his son.

Xander looked on sternly, knowing better than to get involved in this conflict. He would speak with Corrin later and remind him of how to speak properly to their father. In the meantime, Corrin would have to simply take this degradation.

“Yes Father,” Corrin relented, resigning himself to silence.

The king turned his attention back to the girl in front of him. “You may be thinking that my punishment for your crime is too harsh, or that you deserve to be able to defend yourself. You would be wrong. I am your ruler, my word is law, and my judgement is absolute. You will be sentenced to death for your crimes and my son Corrin shall be your executor.”

Both Corrin’s and the girl’s mouth dropped in shock. The poor girl’s only defender would be the one to end her life, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. Elise shuffled closer to Corrin and put her hand in his – her only way of conveying sympathy without sending their father into a frenzy.

“Take her away.”

The siblings watched as the girl was dragged off to the dungeons, her crying sending knives through their hearts. Their father did not flinch. Corrin was reminded of the words Leo had said to him on their way to the throne room – words that had confused him at the time:

“When it comes to these sentencings, Father has a ‘zero fucks given. Next please.’ Mentality. Be prepared.”

And how unprepared he had been.

[whatdoyouthinkmyjobis]

Hunters on the Hellmouth

masterlist

first chapter

previous chapter

AN: This chapter was inspired by events in BTVS 7.10 “Bring On the Night.” Links to character sheets at the bottom of the story.

Chapter 27: Meet & Greet

Everyone had left her. Xander and Dawn were still at the hospital with Willow. Anya had headed back to Xander’s for sleep, food, and a shower. The Winchesters were out taking pictures of churches. For the first time in days, Buffy was utterly alone.

“I’m done!” shouted Andrew through the door as the toilet flushed.

“I didn’t hear the sink.”

“I just peed.”

“I don’t care what you did in there. Wash your hands!”

She heard the faucet run for a few seconds before Andrew opened the bathroom door. “It’s nice in there. I like the little towels. I bet the tub is great for bubble baths.”

“Shut up.” She grabbed his collar and took him back to the basement. He smelled ripe, not a surprise on day three of fear sweats. Was he still wearing the clothes he’d pissed himself in? Someone was going to have to babysit him while he showered, and it wasn’t going to be her.

“Do you have smooth peanut butter?” he asked as she locked him in manacles. “I like it better than chunky, and I was thinking maybe I should get a reward since I’ve been so helpful.”

She tugged on his chains once and said, “You killed someone, Andrew. You’ve been serving some sort of evil creature that’s out for me and mine.”

“But I’m good now. I’m helping.”

“One bit of information doesn’t make you a good person. You have to choose the right thing over and over even if it costs you, even if it hurts. Good guys aren’t good guys for peanut butter rewards. There aren’t rewards. Besides, you’re only helping us because you’re scared shitless Willow will skin you or Dean will maim you.”

Trudging up the stairs, fighting the full weight of her weariness, she heard Andrew say, “I’m sorry about Willow.”

“Shut up.”

She did need to make him something to eat but was content to let him stew for another hour. After all, she hadn’t had breakfast, either; she’d been too upset. She was still too upset. Morning had almost slipped away yet the mere idea of food made her stomach lurch.

After shaking the couch cushions and blankets just in case any stray glass had been missed, she flopped down with the remote. VH1 was airing a rerun of Behind the Music: Aerosmith, the only band in Dean’s collection she didn’t entirely hate. However, they debated whether or not “Don’t Wanna Miss a Thing” counted as an Aerosmith song.

The credits were rolling by the time someone’s knocking startled her awake. Wiping the drool from her face, Buffy looked down at her outfit -- green striped pajama pants and one of Dean’s band shirts. Don’t be Wood. Don’t be Wood. Although, in her current state, her stalker boss couldn’t argue with her calling in sick.

Peeking out the curtains and through the anti-demon symbols the Winchesters had painted on every window, she was relieved to see it was just a couple teenage girls, most likely selling band candy, something she always avoided. Reluctantly leaving the couch, she shuffled to the front door. “I’m sorry, but whatever you--” but the girls cut her off by pushing their way inside.

“Nice. Very cozy like,” said a Cockney girl in pigtails and a fuzzy pink coat. She wore sparkly star barrettes and hot pink lipgloss, as if she were daring time to drag her into adulthood.

“A bit small,” said another Brit in a twinset, nose in the air. Her thick eyebrows and severe, center-parted hair perfectly complemented the thin, angry line of her lips. “I don’t see how this will work for all of us.”

A brown-skinned girl in a Winnie the Pooh shirt, smaller than Dawn had been in years, sneaked inside and curled up on the couch. Rather than look around as the others were, she buried her face in her bear.

All of the girls had suitcases.

“So where’s the Slayer?” asked an American with long brown hair, pale skin and a smug twist to her mouth. Buffy didn’t like her. She had the same cocky body language as Faith.

“Excuse me?” said Buffy. “What the hell do you think you’re doing in my house?”

“Sorry to drop in like this, but we need your help.” She didn’t even need to turn around to know that gentle, smooth voice, welcoming as hot chocolate in winter.

“Giles!” she shouted, launching herself at him for a much-needed hug. He was warm, solid, and smelled like old books and home. He was in her living room.

He was home.

“My dear, you are crushing me. It’s nice to see you too; however, I wish it were under more auspicious circumstances. I see your taste in music has improved,” he said, pointing at Dean’s Led Zeppelin tee.

“Oh, it’s not -- I mean -- it’s been awhile since we’ve talked hasn’t it?” Where would she even start with Dean. Surprise, I have a new boyfriend, a time-traveling monster hunter from another dimension. And did she want to explain any of it in front of the clearly freaked out girls in her living room?

“Not since before Willow returned. I regret I’ve been busy with a slight apocalypse.”

“The First? The Potentials?” She looked at the four girls, all teens or early twenties.

“Why yes, how did you--”

“Let me get dressed like someone who doesn't spend their day watching daytime television and we can play catch up.”

While Giles unloaded the car, the quartet of Potentials watched Buffy -- the vampire Slayer -- as she disappeared up the stairs.

“That’s the Slayer? I thought she’d be taller, bigger.”

“She seems nice.”

“She seems like a lazy slob.”

“She can’t be. She’s the longest-lived Slayer in history.”

“She must be good then.”

“The Council says she’s wild and unpredictable.”

“Probably a party girl.”

“She looks knackered.”

“God, she’s a mess.”

“She’s our only hope.”

Dean and Sam were heading back to the Impala after scoping out their nineteenth church. Nineteen empty churches with zero sign of captivity, and their only eye-witness was blind.

Everyone had spent most of the night before at the hospital with Willow, while Dean and Sam shuttled back and forth to keep an eye on the kid in the basement. By the time Dean brought Buffy home for breakfast, (which she had no interest in), she was nearly catatonic.

The question What next? made his blood run cold. The memory of Dawn shaking on the floor, the dead Bringer at Xander’s feet, floated over Dean like a specter. After a week brimming with panic over finding Buffy dead or worse, and then finding out something was taunting them in the dark, trying to pick them off one by one, Dean couldn’t sit still. So he’d grabbed his brother and done the only thing he could think of: searched for the church where Spike was being held captive.

Except that after an entire day of searching, he couldn’t fucking find it. Picking up a piece of broken wood from the parking lot, he beat it against a dumpster until the wood shattered.

Sam pulled the tweezers from his pocket knife and patiently began to remove splinters from his brother’s hands. “Calm down, Dean. We’ll find Spike.”

“I don’t give a shit about saving Spike! I wanna get this fucker that’s after Buffy and her friends.”

“That’s what we all want. Willow is my friend too, remember? She’s smart and sweet, and she shouldn’t be laying in a goddamn hospital room wondering if she’s ever going to see again. But hurting yourself isn’t going to help us!” Sam yanked out the last splinter and sighed. “Look, we’ll figure it out, just like always. Just...stay with me, okay?”

Dean leaned against the Impala, too weary to move. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Buffy, Sammy. Not now. For the first time in this godawful life, I-I...” The words were buried beneath decades of trained apathy, and no amount of prodding could pull them up.

“I know,” Sam said, pulling his brother in for a quick, hard hug. “She’s a survivor, man. Among the three of us, she’s died the least.”

Dean snorted in acknowledgment of their sad, weird reality.

“C’mon, we have two more places to check out. Then we can head back to Buffy’s. How about I babysit the hostage? Then you can take your girlfriend back to our place for a while. Relax a little.”

“Thanks, Sammy.”

The next two churches didn't have windows like Willow had described -- dark, old rose windows. But the day wasn’t a total failure. At least they had pictures to show Willow when she could see again. It didn't feel like enough for Dean, but he needed to be strong for Buffy.

“You think the demon-proofing will help?” asked Sam as they pulled onto Buffy’s street.

“Hope so. She wasn't exactly happy about it.”

“Like magic symbols on the windows are the weirdest thing to happen at the Summers house.”

A rental car sat in the driveway, and Dean tried to remember who all Buffy had called in the last two days. “You know that car?”

“No.”

The boys shared a look and unholstered their guns. Weapons at their sides, they slowly opened the front door. The house, crowded with four young women he’d never seen before and a familiar-looking grey-haired man sitting knee-to-knee with Buffy, fell silent.

Relief washed over his girlfriend’s face as she bounded straight to him and whispered, “I’m sorry, I should have called,” then turned and addressed the room. “Everyone, this is Dean and Sam Winchester.”

“Blimey, I feel safer now,” said an English girl in pigtails and a riot of color.

“Dean, Sam, these are a few Potentials and --”

“Rupert Giles,” said the man, smiling and extending his hand.

Dean froze. Rupert Giles. Buffy’s Watcher. For all intents and purposes, Buffy’s father. For the first time in his life, Dean was both incredibly aware of his hands -- Did they just dangle at his sides all day? What on earth should he do with them? -- and incapable of moving them.

Sam, having already remembered to reholster his gun, reached across him to shake Giles’ patient hand. “Hi! Buffy didn’t tell us you were coming.”

Dean hated small talk, thought of himself as a straight shooter. Get to the point even if it was ugly. Today, he was thankful for his brother’s gift with words and people.

“So sorry. I neglected to give notice. A bit busy,” he said, gesturing at the girls.

“I’m Sam. I don’t mean to be rude getting straight to business, but we’re in kind of a crisis. Did you bring any reference materials with you?”

While Sam and Giles discussed books, Buffy led Dean out to the front porch. She wrapped her arms around his waist; he kept his eyes on the door. “Baby, your eyes are like saucers. It’s just Giles. He’s here to help! Why the gun?”

Dean quickly shoved his handgun back into his coat. “Th-that-that’s your dad.”

“No, my dad is a cheating nobody who committed me. Giles is my Watcher.” She said it cheerfully, as if the second part could fully erase the first, but Dean knew from experience that wasn’t the case.

“But he, um--”

She pulled his face towards hers. “He’s not here to haze you. He’s here with answers and a tiny little untrained army.” She was beaming now, Giles and answers clearly overpowering any worries she had about the Potentials.

“What else did you ask Santa for?”

“Several uninterrupted hours with you in bed,” she said. She moved in to kiss him, but he pulled back, fixated on the door. “This complete freak out is adorable. Dean Winchester, killer of demons and monsters, Hell’s most wanted, is scared of a bookish Englishman. Babe, Giles is going to like you because I like you. You don’t need to worry.”

He grabbed his fear by the throat and shoved it down. Focus, Dean! Focus! “Council got ahold of him then?”

In an instant, her smile disappeared. “No, um, Giles is here alone. Well, as alone as you can be with four girls. The Watcher’s Council sort of...exploded.”

“Sort of? Things don’t sort of explode.”

“It super exploded. Dean, someone bombed the place. Everyone died. The books, papers, journals, everything burned up. There are a few Watchers scattered around the world with their Potentials, but they’re being killed off too. We’re at war.”

He was still processing bombed when Giles and Sam joined them on the porch. “Buffy, the girls understandably have a lot of questions about the Slayer. Seeing as I’ve been running around the world for the last forty-eight hours, I was hoping you could answer them while these gentlemen and I grab some lunch.”

“You’re leaving me alone with them?! But they’re rude and annoying! If the PTA-looking one hmm’s at me one more time, I’m chucking her in the basement.”

“They are young, frightened, and far from home. While Annabelle and Dani have been in training for some time, they still do not grasp what they’re up against. Furthermore, Molly and Cloé had no idea vampires were real. Besides, you are the most qualified person to tell them what being the Slayer is like.”

“For you, Giles. I’m doing this for you,” she said as she returned to the house.

Rupert Giles was tall and slim, with tired grey-blue eyes and a mouth that clearly split its time between bemused grins and taut concern. He was currently doing the former as he looked at Dean. “Would you mind terribly driving? I’m afraid I am rather tired from my globetrotting.”

“Let’s go,” said Dean heading toward his beloved Impala.

“What a beautiful car,” said Giles, sliding into the backseat. “After lunch, could I get a peek at the engine?”

“Sure thing.”

“So Giles, what whirlwind have you been caught in?” Sam asked.

“The days have sort of blurred together. Let’s see, I broke into my former employer’s to steal their records and resources, picked up one Potential in London and other in Manchester, flew to Wuhan for a third only it was too late, then returned to the States to gather girls from Connecticut and Oklahoma before landing in Los Angeles this morning. I think that’s what happened. There was also a good deal of debate about boy bands versus girl groups. I cannot tell you how grateful I am for this brief respite.”

“When you say you were too late, you mean the girl was dead?” asked Dean.

“Unfortunately, yes. Buffy’s theory was spot on.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“What theory?” asked Sam.

“You know those freaky dreams Buffy’s been having for months? She thought it was the Bringers killing Potentials. Wipe out all the Potentials--”

“Then the Slayer. Then there’s no one fighting evil,” said Sam, filling in the details. “Shit.”

“So what all has Buffy told you, Giles?”

“In the brief moment we had without the girls, she told me about your rather busy week. Good Lord. Ghosts and Bringers and Willow’s been blinded. The girls will question whether they are any safer here.”

“They’re plenty safe,” said Dean, looking at him in the rearview mirror. “Buffy ain’t gonna let anything happen to them, and Sam and I’re here too. We got this.”

Giles smiled at him warmly. “She refrained from telling me anything about the two of you. I believe her words were ‘That story is beyond Sunnydale-levels of weird.’”

Abandoning the idea of Gordo Taco, Dean hung a right, heading toward Sam’s favorite sandwich shop. “In that case, lunch calls for beer.”

Buffy, feeling more awake and confident in her work clothes, surveyed the girls on her couch. She could do this. It was just like helping teenagers with their problems at work only four times as hard and certainly more deadly.

“When are we starting training?” Annabelle lobbed the question like a teacher giving a pop quiz. “What is your daily regimen?”

“Is Buffy Summers your real name or your secret identity?”  

Buffy took a deep breath. “Buffy’s my real name, and I--”

But the girls were just warming up with questions, blasting them out like a fire hose.

“What’s it like having superpowers?”

“If vampires are real, does that mean other monsters like werewolves and mummies are real too?”

“Who graffitied your ‘ouse?”

Buffy shook her head. “It’s not graffi--”

“How many vampires have you killed?” asked Dani with a smug smile. “Have you fought more than one blood-sucker at a time? Have you ever been bitten? Did it hurt?”

“How many ancient languages can you read? I can read six, but I anticipate mastering Egyptian hieroglyphics very soon.”

“Did you feel different when you became the Slayer?”

“How much can you lift?”

“Do you ever get scared?” Cloé asked, tugging at her bear’s ears.

“Yeah,” Buffy said, making eye contact with the girl to make sure she heard.

“Are you, like, invincible?”

“What’s your favorite weapon?” Dani asked in a tone that indicated there could be a wrong answer. “Stakes are simple and reliable, but I like a crossbow myself.”

“Since you ‘ave all of this energy and stuff, can you eat whateve’ you want? Living on chocolate ice cream an’ trifle don’t sound so bad.” Molly rubbed her stomach. “You got anyfing to eat?”

“Will we be safe here?” Annabelle asked, a tremor in her voice betraying her veneer of confidence. “Have you encountered the Harbingers of Death yet? I saw them murder my Watcher.”

“You’re safe,” Buffy promised.

Barley & Rye was nearly empty so late in the afternoon. The Winchesters grabbed a booth at the back and stuck to discussing work and life on the Hellmouth until food and beer were in hand before giving a brief explanation of how they arrived in Sunnydale.

Post revelation, Giles stared at his glass as if it had a more rational explanation for what he’d just heard. Then, he started to giggle; a hands-over-the-mouth, tears-streaming-from-the-eyes giggle.

“You are telling me at an angel, a creature no one in the entire history of the Council has heard of being any more legitimate than flying reindeer, moved you both here from the future and a different dimension. A human dimension, similar to this one no less.” He took a long draught from his stout, and putting his glasses back on, looked at them both with great interest. “Buffy, a relatively rational young woman, believes your codswallop; so I will go along. Please explain to me both how you came to this alternate dimension conclusion, and why.”

“We’re all in agreement other dimensions exist, correct?” started Sam. “Heaven and Hell are real places a soul can visit, and according to ex-demon Anya, there are hundreds, if not thousands of Hell-like, Hell-ruled, or hellish dimensions.”

“But nothing that can sustain a human body. Nothing with cars, beer, and damn good rock music,” Giles said, tipping his drink toward Dean.

“No way this is the same place we’re from,” said Dean before digging into his philly.

“A lot of things are the same, but there’s a good number of differences both small and large. There’s minutia like entertainment and the odd historical fact that’s different; but what is the weirdest is how people are and aren’t the same between the two worlds. For example, in both worlds, John Wayne is a movie star famous for playing cowboys. Meanwhile, we’re nowhere to be found. You’ve heard of The Vampire Chronicles featuring the vampire Lestat?”

Giles rolled his eyes and waved at the waitress for another beer.

“They’re written by Howard O’Brien, but back home, she uses the pseudonym Anne Rice. It’s the exact same person though.”

“Thank God the romanticization of vampires is consistent.”

“At least they don’t sparkle,” Dean muttered.

Sam continued, “Horror-fiction aside, we’re probably looking at a dimension that’s not entirely separate, if one person can lead a relatively similar life in both places.”

“Do you have more examples of this phenomenon?”

The brothers exchanged a quick, nervous glance and decided to plunge in. “We haven’t told anyone about this, not even Buffy. You can’t say anything. They’d freak the fuck out.”

“We met Tara back home,” said Sam.

“You what?”

“It took me a while to figure it out. She looks different in the pictures. Different hair. Different body language. Different name. But we met her, or maybe her evil twin.”

“Evil?”

“The Tara we met, Lenore, was a vampire,” Sam said.

“Dear God.”

“That’s why we haven’t told anyone,” added Dean.

“That’s wise. I will keep your confidence.” Giles idly rubbed his fingers over his fork. “Did you, um--”

“We left her alive,” said Dean. “She was feeding off cattle, not people.”

“Concerned for others even when she’s at her worst. Sounds like Tara.” A brief, pained smile flitted across Giles’ lips.

The waitress returned with another round, and Giles mulled over their story as he finished his turkey club. “‘Back home,’ as you call it, you’re not a school librarian and a handyman, but rather freelance monster hunters?”

“We don’t have designated supergirls where we’re from,” said Dean as he snatched some cold fries from Sam’s plate.

“You are from a world without a Slayer, as far as you know. So what, people rise up and take arms against the monsters?”

“Damn straight.”

“That’s one of the things that’s bothered me since we got here,” said Sam. “Back home, there are hunters, ordinary people like us, who started tracking and killing monsters. Here everyone is under a spell.”

“A spell?” asked Giles, surprised.

Sam sighed. “We’re living on a Hellmouth, but it seems people have to have a certain level of exposure before they notice the supernatural all around them, which sucks for the people who get eaten. We haven’t figured out the source yet, but it means that wiping out the Slayers is a real threat, since next to no one fights back.”

“The monsters aren't the same anyway,” continued Dean. “Vampires are nearly extinct where we’re from. They don’t do the weird face transformation. They don’t burn up in the sunlight. They don’t poof when you kill them, that’s for sure. The demons are off, too. Ours are spirits that possess people.”

“Spirits that possess people? How do you begin to fight that?” asked Giles.

Dean opened his mouth, but no words came out. Did he want to confess this to Giles an hour after meeting him?

Sam jumped in. “We can either exorcise it, or unfortunately, kill it in the host.” The somber librarian didn’t blink or recoil. “Most of the time, if we exorcise the demon, the host is either already dead, mortally wounded, or batshit crazy. It’s more merciful.”

A silence fell over the table. Giles pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket to clean his glasses. “This job is mostly awful. It sounds noble on paper. Save the world. Fight evil. However, the reality is a good many innocents die, and sometimes it’s because they have to.”

Forgoing eye contact and further dark revelations, the men drained their new beers.

Giles cleared his throat and said, “Let's assume for the moment you aren't complete maniacs--”

“Thanks?”

“--and everything you've said is true. Why would there be two nearly identical dimensions?”

Sam shrugged. “Maybe it’s some sort of experiment. One world is the control, and the other is being tested?”

“Angels are dicks like that,” added Dean.

“Then why would an angel help you? What makes you perfect candidates for experimental world hopping?”

It was Dean’s turn to shrug. He found Giles to be warm and wise, much how Buffy had always described him, but now wasn’t the time to lay all the cards on the table. “I stopped caring about the whys and hows a few months in. Honestly, coming to Sunnydale is one of the best things to ever happen to us.”

After showing the girls where they could find everything to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and explaining pb&j to the Brits, Buffy tried to sneak upstairs to grab some aspirin for her throbbing headache.

She wasn’t even to the bottom of the steps when Cloé nervously asked, “I-Is that shouting coming from downstairs?”

Buffy turned on her heel. “We kinda have a hostage--”

“What do you mean, you ‘have a hostage’?” Dani couldn’t cover the shock on her face.

“I’ll answer that in a second,” Buffy said with a tight grin.

But the girls were already following her. “Mr. Giles said ‘is Watcher training didn’t prepare ‘im for you. Wuz ‘e mean?”

“Does, uh, did the Council pay you?”

Dani snorted. “Didn’t you have a tantrum and quit the Council?”

Saved by the giant bottle of aspirin in the medicine cabinet, Buffy swallowed three pills before turning to face the crowd that had followed her to the bathroom. “Okay, here’s the thing about the Coun--”

“Does your boyfriend live ‘ere?” Molly asked with a big grin. “Is ‘e a Slayer too?”

“Don’t be stupid,” snapped Dani. “There aren’t any boy Slayers.”

Molly’s mouth fell open in horror. “Wot? You’re havin’ a laugh, right?”

“Do you think it’s appropriate to be distracting yourself with a boyfriend? The fate of the world is on your shoulders,” Annabelle said.

Buffy pursed her lips and glared at the girl. “He’s not any of your--”

Cloé moaned. “Is there only one bathroom?”

“Where shall we be sleeping?” asked Annabelle stepping into the hall. “I didn’t exactly pack well, what with the running for my life and all.”

“I heard you’re friends wif a witch,” Molly said.

“I heard you’re friends with a vampire,” Dani accused.

“Is it true you died, and there’s another Slayer?”

“What was dying like?”

When they returned to the Summers’ house, Sam headed inside to scour the new books for information, and Giles reminded Dean he wanted a peek under the Impala’s hood.

“That is certainly…” He scratched the back of his neck as he searched for words. “It’s very clean in spite of all the oil and grease and--”

“You don’t know anything about engines, do you?”

“Afraid I haven’t a clue.”

Closing the hood, Dean asked, “So what’d you wanna talk about without Sam around?”

“Personal matters.” Quietly, with his hands shoved in his pockets as if the mere topic embarrassed him, Giles asked, “How long have you and Buffy been together?”

“Four months now. Maybe five? I’m not so sentimental with dates.”

“Sparing as much detail as possible, would you call this relationship serious or an innocent dalliance?”

“Feels pretty damn serious,” he said, leaning against his car and wondering where this was headed.

“I’m not sure if that will make what I’m about to say better or worse.” Giles leaned on the Impala beside him, took off his glasses and rubbed his forehead. Worry settled into his face aging him. “Have you lost anyone, Dean?”

“Everyone.”

“People close to you?”

“The closest.”

Giles slowly, painfully nodded the familiar me too of hunters-in-passing. “I don’t suppose you’ve lived through an apocalypse, so I wanted to prepare you. People are going to die. The girl in Wuhan was in pieces. I found Annabelle hiding under a trap door covered by her Watcher’s dead body. She’d been there two days.”

“We can protect the girls.”

“I am sure you’ll do your best, but that’s not my concern at the moment. Dean, Buffy is a hero. A champion. If defeating this evil means sacrificing herself, she will do it. Much as she may care for you, you won’t be able to talk her out of it. You need to be prepared for the reality that Buffy may not live through this. I have buried my entire family and many friends, some of whom were murdered. Even so, I wasn’t prepared when I had to bury Buffy. She did tell you about that? Good. She’s one of the most remarkable people I’ve ever known, but she is not immortal.”

“We’ve talked about it.”

“You have?”

“No one leaves this life with a gold watch and a retirement party. We know that.”

“It’s one thing to hold the idea in your head and entirely another to say it out loud.”

Two doors down, a woman was struggling to keep a lighted Merry Christmas sign from falling over. The stakes weren’t in the ground far enough. She propped it up with a piece of wood, but threw it away. It must have ruined the look. Bending, pressing, propping, finally the sign was upright and broadcasting holiday cheer to the neighborhood; but as soon as she went inside, the sign fell flat.

“Thanks for the warning, but I say things when I need to,” said Dean.

Staring at the newly empty linen closet, Buffy realized she was going to have to wash the mound of dirty towels in the basement. Maybe one of the girls could do it; it’s not like she could wait on them until this passed. How long would that be? Girls in her kitchen, eating her food, peppering her with questions like they were on a weekend retreat for Advanced Slaying 401. The Winchesters spent much of their lives on the run. Maybe they had tips. Homelessness 101.

“Buffy?” Her Watcher’s voice pushed all the conversation her mind. “Are the girls settling in?”

“Super cozy. I was thinking of tossing some doilies around, getting a cat or five, and opening a B&B.”

“Dean doesn't strike me as a cat person.”

“Is that bad?”

“He seems like a decent fellow. I rather like him, not that my opinion matters in this area.” He was half right. As with previous boyfriends, she’d continue to see who her heart lead her to, approved of or not. Still, hearing good things instead of cautionary critiques was a welcome change of pace. “I'm not sold on his angel story.”

“Couldn't let me be happy, could you?”

“Angels do not just move nobodies across dimensions.”

“Are you basing this on some Dateline exposé, because I’m behind on late night scandal TV. I know there isn't a volume on typical angel behavior.”

“If it really was an angel, why would it help the Winchesters, who claim to be insignificant, yet never help you?”

“My plucky can-do attitude?”

“I’m not saying either Dean or Sam have sinister intent, but I’m not sure they are sharing the entire story. Anyway, I just wanted to check in before helping Dawn and Sam with research. You would bypass the bookish one and fall for the motorhead.”

She couldn’t help but grin at the fatherly annoyance in his voice. “Did Sam tell you he has your old job?”

“Indeed. Perhaps I can convince him to further follow in my footsteps by becoming a Watcher. We’re going to need to rebuild.”

“Hi-ya, Giles!” said Xander appearing in the hall with a small basket of laundry. “Glad you’re here. Can’t talk. Gotta dress the hostage. Dear God, what is my life? Incoming!” he yelled, opening the bathroom door and tossing the basket inside.

Buffy headed downstairs and found Dean in the kitchen, poking through the fridge while Molly leaned over the counter, staring at him wistfully.

“So will you be comin’ wif us when we go out trainin’?” Molly asked coquettishly. “I’m bloody excited about it. This whole thing’s like a big adventure. I ain’t never left Manchester. Me mates an’ I were talkin’ ‘bout goin’ to Liverpool for a match in the spring, but we ain’t got enough quid to rub together let alone splash out.”

Dean spotted Buffy from the corner of his eye, a wide grin stretching across his face. “Hey Girly. I’m running to the store. Need me to grab anything?”

“The peanut butter and jelly were fully plundered. No survivors.”

“Got it,” Dean said, pulling her in and planting a kiss beneath her ear. “Feeling good enough to eat something then?” he whispered.

“Don’t mind me! Snog away.” Molly, who had asked non-stop questions about the Winchesters, rested her cheek on her laced fingers as if she were watching her favorite scene in her favorite romance.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “At ease and go scamper, soldier.”

“You don’t remember my name, do you?”

“It’s not Pigtails?” Dean gave the girl the warm smile he used when trying to get his way. “Go join the other girls, okay? Buffy and I got stuff we need to talk about.”

Molly tugged on her pigtails, smiled at him, and skipped to the living room.

“You don’t have to be so nice. You and Sam are already their favorite people in the house,” Buffy said, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.

He shrugged. “She’s a chatterbox, but underneath she’s scared.”

“She should be.”

Dean didn’t look scared. Contrary to his freakout earlier, he looked serene, happy. Lunch with Giles must have gone well. Buffy wanted to seal up this moment so that when the storm hit, she could remember the perfect calm that came before.

Holding her tighter, Dean kissed her lightly on the forehead. “Feeling better?”

She whispered, “Half of my brain knows things just got worse, like, mega worse: the return of badness. The other half of my brain is soaked in happy because Giles is here, and you’re kissing me. Right now, that side is keeping the panic at bay.”

“How about you come with me?” he said, his deep voice rumbling through her. “We can stop at my place, and I can eat you out until you can’t feel your legs. Sound relaxing?”

Fifteen reasons to say no -- laundry, meal planning, sleeping arrangements -- came to her mind before a yes. Maybe the panic wasn’t so at bay. “Oh God, this is it. This is the moment I turned old.”

“What?”

“Instead of jumping on your fantastic plan, I starting think of all the things I have to take care of.”

“You’re thinking with your Slayer brain.”

“Promise me everything’s going to be okay.”

“I can’t promise anything, but I can tell you I’ll be with you in this. You need me ganking baddies or getting groceries, I’m here for you, Girly.”

Slipping her fingers under his shirts and hooking them into the waistband of his pants, she coyly glanced at him through her lashes. He pinned her between his body and the counter, his erection firming against her. Stretching on her toes, she kissed him, her tongue trailing over his teeth. Want washed over her, making a home between her legs. Want needed time, and unlike everything else making demands on her, it kept her head above water.

A giggle bubbled behind her. “Told you they were cute,” said Molly, elbowing a blushing Cloé in the doorway.

Dawn pushed past them rolling her eyes. “It’s not a show. Besides, they do it all the time. Thank God they were just making out.” Rifling through the cupboards, she asked, “Where did all the food go?”

Read Giles’ dossiers on: Annabelle      Dani       Cloé       Molly

next chapter

[kyliafanfiction-archive]

10 More Faith/Amy Drabbles

A while ago, I wrote ten drabbles based on a gifset of Faith and Amy that @emofaith made. (They’re right here, for the interested ). Well, since @emofaith made another ten gifs, I’m writing more drabbles.

Because I love Faimy and I always will. So there. :P

The drabbles take place in seperate universes unless otherwise stated.

I. I’m Stuff

Amy turned her head to see Faith sauntering through the hallway, Willow and Xander behind her. 

“So... Faith, I was wondering if you wanted to come hang at the Bronze with us tonight. We’re all gonna be there - Buffy, Oz, Cordelia.” Amy already knew what Faith’s answer was going to be, of course, but she smirked as Faith answered.

Faith shook her head, “Nah. ‘precciate the offer though, but I’m gonna be busy tonight.” 

“Busy? Whatcha gonna be doing?” Xander asked curiously. “I mean, from what I’ve heard, alls quiet on the Slaying front.”

“No, not Slaying. Just... doing stuff.” Faith chuckled as if at a private joke. One only she and Amy shared.

“What sort of-” Willow started to ask, but Amy chose that moment to walk up to the three of them and grab Faith’s hand. This was too good of an opening to pass up.

“I’m stuff,” Amy told them, smiling wickedly.

II. Later Loser! (All Normal/HS AU)

“Later loser!” Faith shouted over the sound of the motorcycle speeding off and away from the park. Amy tried to ignore her as she walked in the opposite direction. Of course, that wasn’t exactly working, and even if she could ignore those words, that wouldn’t do anything about the pain in her chest.

But she made sure she didn’t look like she was hurting.

She still didn’t get what the hell Faith had done all that for. What kind of sick bitch takes a dare to date someone for two months just to dump them publicly and humiliatingly?

And I told her I’d been crushing on her for a year before it even started. So she knows just how much she hurt me.

One way or another, Amy was gonna get payback. Maybe she could start by breaking her douchebag boyfriend’s motorcyle.

Or maybe sabotaging the breaks on it...

That idea sounds like a plan. He’d been just as in on it as Faith.

III. Ever Kissed a Girl Before?

Faith laid down on the bed across from Amy’s and looked over at the half-asleep witch. Well, at least Faith was pretty sure she was just half asleep. 

She’d never really had the chance for slumber-parties when she’d been younger - not between her druggie mom and then a succession of foster homes before she quit school and the system and took care of herself.

But here she was, having a sleepover with the girl who had rapidly become her best friend - and Faith kinda wanted her to be something more.

More than kinda. Faith had done beating around the bush, but seemed like girls here in the ‘dale just didn’t get subtle sapphic flirting. So she was gonna go direct this time

“Psst!” Faith hissed over at Amy. “Are you awake?” 

Amy opened her eyes. “... am now.” She said, blinking repeatedly. “What?”

“Okay, so this is gonna sound all out of context, but I’m gonna ask you anyway: Ever kissed a girl before?”

Amy blinked once more, slowly, staring at her. She lifted her head up a little. “Ah... no?”

“Wanna try it?”

IV. Heart in the Window

“Come on Amy. Live a little!” Faith said through the open window. The teacher was out of the room for a few minutes, which is how Faith was getting away with this - none of the other students in the class were gonna complain about the excuse to watch something interesting. Except Willow, who was very obviously ignoring everything and focusing on the test in front of her.

“Faith, I have to finish this test...” Amy said, unable to stop the small smile forming on her face at the sight of her girlfriend. 

Faith said nothing in response, just backing out of the open window and moving over to the closed one right next to it. She leaned in, breathing on the glass, and Amy couldn’t take her eyes off Faith’s lips - damn that dark red shade looked good on her.

But when Faith drew a little heart in the condensation on the window... 

Fuck. Faith could always get her to do just about anything by saying - or in this case drawing - ‘I love you’.

“Fuck it. I can retake the taste another time.” Amy said, dropping her pen and getting out of her chair.

V. Help Yourself

When Amy had said that Faith could use the spare bedroom at he place, she had been a little surprised that the other girl had accepted the offer. She’d recognized a look in the other girl’s eyes, one she knew well from looking in the mirror. The ‘I don’t need help from fucking anyone’ look.

But... well, now the why of it seemed pretty damn clear, the way she was scarfing down dinner. Good thing dad always makes extra. 

“Hey, Amy, you don’t mind if I have some of your fries?” Faith asked, looking up as she walked towards the table. 

Amy blinked. “Uh - yeah, no. Go ahead.”

VI. She Still Pissed?

(This one takes place in the Aliciaverse - where Faith and Amy are married and have a daughter named Alicia)

Faith sat up hurriedly as Amy opened the door. “So... what’s the verdict? She still pissed at us?” Raising a six-year old didn’t come with any handbook, and what you were supposed to do when your kid got all sulky because you wouldn’t buy them a pony probably wouldn’t have been in one anyway.

“She’s your daughter too, what do you think?” Amy replied with a sigh, putting a hand on her hip. Faith couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yeah. She’s still angry. I think it’s mostly just for show though.” 

“Where does this thing with pink and ponies come from then? Not like either of us are into those?” Faith asked.

“I blame Cordelia for the ponies thing. Couldn’t begin to tell you where pink comes into things though.”

VII. Long Time

Amy rolled down the window of her parked car. “Faith? Faith!” She could hardly believe it. She hadn’t seen the other girl since the fall of Sunnydale, six years ago. They’d both been part of ‘Team Buffy’, fighting the First Evil and all that shit. Amy had decided that her issues with Willow could wait until the end of the world was prevented and joined up, and then Faith had come along a few months later. They’d had a few fun nights of stress relief before the end. But then she’d gone her seperate way from the Scoobies and new Slayers. 

“Amy.” Faith drew up short, a small smile forming on her face as she approached the car. “How are you? Long time.”

“Yeah. Doing pretty good. How about you? Here for Slaying?”

“What else would I be doing in a podunk little town like this? Wanna lend me a hand? Could use some of your magic.”

Amy’s mouth curved up in a smile. “Happy to. Drinks to celebrate? I know a pretty good bar nearby.”

VIII. Don’t Seem So Bad

“You know,” Faith started. “Willow warned me about you. Said you were all kinds of crazy and dangerous. That I should just knock you out and bring you in the easy way.” She shrugged, “Gotta say, you don’t seem so bad.”

“Well, Willow’s never really had much imagination.” Amy replied, chuckling. “She doesn’t think I’ve changed since Sunnydale. Doesn’t imagine I can, I guess. I’m used to that kind of shit from her now. That and her whole holier-than-thou schtick.”

Faith rolled her eyes. “Don’t even start. I get you don’t like Red, and that’s cool, you two got history, but she ain’t that bad, ‘kay? You haven’t seen her in five years either, so it’s not like you know what she’s like now either.”

Amy sighed, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, fine, alright. So... what’s the deal? You gonna take me in, or can I go make sure the pizza I have in the oven doesn’t burn?” 

Faith considered her options. She didn’t know what Willow and Buffy and the rest wanted Amy for, but she figured it wasn’t for anything that would actually hurt the chick. On the other hand, Faith didn’t like it when the scoobies treated her like an errand girl. Plus, she was hungry. She’d skipped lunch tracking this witch down.

“Depends. What kind of pizza, and do ya have room at the table for a guest?”

IX. Don’t Need a Light

“Thanks,” Amy said as she took the cigarette from Faith. She didn’t usually smoke, but once in a while - it helped take the edge off her low-burn, still there magic addiction. Seeing the girl who’d come home with her last night from the club smoking smoke had made her crave one for just that.

“Here,” Faith offered the lighter as well, but Amy shook her head. “Don’t need it.” She brought her hand up to the cigarette as she put it in her mouth and after a muttered spell, the thing was lit. 

“Shit, what are you, some kind of witch?” Faith asked casually, not freaked out at all, just sounding a little surprised. 

“Yeah. That a problem?” Amy took an empty beer bottle from last night off the fireplace mantle, dropping it in the trash.

“Nah. I know a few witches. Besides, Slayer here. Can’t call the fucking pot black and all that.”

“I don’t think that’s how it goes...” Amy said, then shook her head. “Whatever. So... Slayer. I used to know the Slayer, back when there was just one.”

“What, you went to school with Buffy or something?” Faith scoffed, as if that was hard to believe.

“Yeah. Buffy, Willow, Xander. I took classes with them and everthing. Rupert Giles was my librarian.” Amy shrugged, “Haven’t had anything to do with them in years though.”

Faith blinked, her brow furrowing. “Wait. Amy the rat?”

X. Second Date

“I was just... I dunno. Thinking about our date the other night...” Amy said, trying to hide her nervousness, curling the cord on her phone around one finger. “I - well... I was - wondering if you wanted to - there’s this new club I was looking to go to... wondering if you wanted to go with me? Like a second date and everything?” Amy said hurriedly, the words spilling out.

“Not against the idea.” Faith said slowly on the other end of the line. “Okay, no, I’ll be real, I’m likin’ the sound of that, but you really sure you wanna do that? I’m pretty fucked up, girl, and I’m never gonna get much better.”

“Faith, if you want to start comparing baggage, we could be at it all night,” Amy explained. “I’m not proposing. Not even suggesting we go steady or whatever. I like you, you like me, let’s have a date and see how it goes.” From what she remembers of Faith the one time they talked years ago in Sunnydale, before she’d turned herself into a rat, this approach to things would have been more Faith’s style. But they’d both changed a lot over the years.

Faith chuckled. “Alright. Then yeah. I’ll go on a second date with you.”