kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 
     TITLE: Love in translation [for Halfamoon 2026] 

     AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

     FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer; 

     
RATING: NC-17; 

     LENGTH: 650;

     CHARACTER(s): Kennedy; Tara Maclay; 

     
SHIP(s): Willow/Kennedy (future); Tara Maclay (past;

    SUMMARY: Translating people's love language can, on occasion, make the Kobiyashi Maru look easy.

    A/N: Still not sure I have a handle on which Buffyverse of mine this belongs in but, given the date when the Rupi Kaur poetry rupikaur.com/pages/milk-and-honey-books was published the earliest date for this scene is 2015. That, at least, fits in with the fic I posted for Day One's The Innocent Prompt.






     “Hair,

   Ignoring by the sound of her locker door being closed Kennedy; not bothered enough to cover herself, simply continued to towel herself down as she walked out of the showers.

   She came to a sharp stop when she saw who was waiting there though.

 

   Sat right in front of her locker.

 

   She was just sat there.

   Studying her.

 

   Checking her out?

 

   She barely moved as Kenn advanced on her carefully, until she was standing over her antagonist.

   Bitch actually licked her lips; not bothering to pretend where she was looking, just slid out of Kenn's way so the slayer could get to her locker.

 

   Instead of her underwear Kenn turned from her locker with a note 'twixt her fingers.

 

   Why the fuck had phrase it like that?

 

   “You were saying? “ She asked out loud.

 

   Brazenly licking her lips again, Tara Maclay raised her eyes to meet Kennedy's before she stood; staring right into them.

 

    ''hair

      if it was not supposed to be there

      would not be growing

      on our bodies in the first place''

 

   Whatever that was supposed to mean had nothing to do with the obvious.

 

   “Thus spake zarathustra, “ Kenn responded, at which Tara grinned.

Kenn had the feeling she had somehow passed some kind of test. Unable to stop herself she glanced down at her groin.

 

   “You approve?

 

   Dilated pupils notwithstanding her antagonist said nothing, simply leaning in and laying a kiss on the Kennedy's cheek; away from the fingers holding the note.

   Inaudibly, but for proximity, she simply stated, “She lied to you.

 

   She knew.

 

   Then her eyes seemed to go quiet and she started to walk away.

   Just as she appeared about to reach for the handle of the inner door she turned her head slightly; enough for Kenn to see a deeply saddened, melancholic, smile on her face.

 

   “I didn't...

 

   Tara turned her face toward Kennedy; eyes looking pained and resigned.

 

   “Take care of her.

   She spoke as softly she had when Kenn could feel her breath, but Kenn could hear her clearly.

   “I don't understand why she'd want you to believe she was cheating.

 

   She snorted, or tried to stifle a laugh; Kenn couldn't tell for sure.

   She couldn't find the words either.

   Why... why would she?

 

   Then Tara was standing right in front of her; reaching out and pinching the note from her fingers. Staring deep into Kennedy's eyes she unfolded the note; turned it text facing her and returned it to Kennedy's hand,

   “She's not my problem anymore.

 

   Take care of her.

   For me.

 

   Kenn watched her; speechless, walk funereal over to the inner door.

 

   Take care of her.

   For myself?

 

   Grasping the handle; door opening, Tara seemed to be pausing.

   Considering.

   Fascinated, Kenn watched the decision being processed.

 

   She was still caught by surprise.

 

   “You never stop loving her.

 

   Statement?

   Warning?

 

   Kennedy couldn't tell if she was even the one Tara was talking to.

 

   Tara opened the door and, before she closed it behind her looked Kennedy in the eye again.

 

   “Oxford. 

     Near Lady Margaret's Hall. 

       She won't listen, but tell her not to contact me. 

         I - I'll do that when I am ready.” 

 

   As she turned away for the final time she spoke once more.

 

   “I broke up with her months ago... 

    and 

    Green?” 

 

   Then she shrugged and closed the door with a final wink and a smirk.

   Kenn heard her ~ was she skipping? ~ walk away down the corridor to the outer door.

   She was whistling.

   Kenn had never heard her whistle.

   Not recognising the tune*; sounded mediaeval, she found herself committing it to memory.

 

   If Tara was sending her a message she probably needed to decipher this entire locker room talk.

 

   She understood why this quiet, startlingly unassuming, woman commanded such fierce, and unswerving, loyalty at least.

 

   When she gave in to the need to breathe the silence, interrupted, was suddenly deafening.

 

   Kenn finally took a look at the note.

   Whatever it meant it was not for her.

 

   “losing you

    was the becoming

    of myself

 

   Kennedy let out a loud snort and glanced downward. 
 

 

   “Tell me something. 

     ¿Por qué decidí teñirte?” 

 

 

 

     Goddess watch over you,

 

      Rupi Kaur
                      ~ foreword note, 
                         'the poems
                          they're falling out of me 
                          like Rain.'  

                      (April 3rd, 2014. 10.33 pm) 




      { right now I feel like I know what she meant } 

     kerk


     * This www.youtube.com/watch is the tune that Tara is whisling at the end. Read into that what you choose. 

 

 


kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 

     TITLE: When the clouds are in your shoes [Halfamoon 2026]

     AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

     FANDOM: Firefly {post- Serenity the Movie};

     LENGTH: 425;

     CHARACTER(s): Zoë Alleyne; River Tam; Jayne Cobb; Oc (Saisyu Washburne);

     SUMMARY: allpoetry.com/Here-Is-A-Wound-That-Never-Will-Heal,-I-Know by Edna St. Vincent Millay {No words that I can find would summarise this story better}

     A/N: This was inspired by [community profile] halfamoon's Big Damn Admin [personal profile] cmk418's Day 5 Firefly fic halfamoon.dreamwidth.org/567034.html ; mind was too busy writing stories in my head, including this one.

It's also inspired by the idea that when the show ended Zoë was unknowingly waiting to meet that beautiful baby she was talking to Wash about. This idea seemed to fit the post-movie Firefly better so there we are.

The title was inspired by the poem linked above and two songs Abba's 'Hole in your Soul' genius.com/Abba-hole-in-your-soul-lyrics and Nat King Cole's Smile genius.com/Nat-king-cole-smile-lyrics; all three came to mind while I was seeking a new opening line.

 

 

     He'd never done it, but she imagined knocking the Shepherd to the floor for saying it.

 

   Zoë watched River and Jayne; like co-parenting siblings, playing with 'lil Wash as she happily escaped one or the other's grasp.

   A walking and talking knife in her soul.

   Reminder of what her life had stolen from her.

 

   A life she had chosen.

 

   Until she had first held that child to her chest she had never truly known pain; not through the war; not when Tracey had died from the bullets they had carried; not even when the battle fever had finally ebbed away and she'd put on that gorram dress.

 

   She had finally understood the pain her Captain; her Sergeant; her comrade; her friend had felt losing his faith. The moment the door had closed on the quarters she now shared with their baby she felt a pain she had foolishly imagined she was prepared for.

 

   “Mā mī!

 

   Knife twisting in gaping hole where her heart had been, she hunkered down and gathered the waddling, giggling, chubby bundle of laughter in her arms.

   She buried the pain deep; 'lil Wash would never know his face; never see her smile reflected in his eyes; never feel his warmth; never groan at his humor; never hear his voice.

   She'd never know how much he could annoy her; nor understand her love for him every time she so riled at him she'd yell to bust her lungs.

 

   Zoë could almost see him snickering the first time this tiny creature broke her calm and got herself yelled at the way she'd yell at him.

 

   She could almost hear him too; thoughts interrupted, she looked up as Jayne lay a hand on her shoulder and she returned the invisible smile he had on his face that made him look so much like the preacher.

   Her eyes closed before her gaze fell on River's expression but she knew it was telling her she would heal one day.

 

   As much as she imagined River lying on the floor next to Shepherd Book, she knew she didn't want to heal.

   She didn't want his memory ever to fade to where she didn't feel that pain.

   That pain kept her man alive.

 

   She found herself anticipating the day this child got her so riled up she wanted to shout at her just as she would her father.

   She wanted to see him smiling at their child the way he smiled at her after a fight.

 

   She wanted to see him in their child; their little girl; their Saisyu.

 

 

 

      Goddess be with you,

 

       天下無不散之筵席 { There is no such thing as a feast that never ends } 

      kerk



    "Saisyu" most commonly refers to the Japanese word 最終 (saishū), meaning "last," "final," or "closing". In this case it is a compound name, 'Sai' being Cantonese for 'Wash' and Syu the Cantonese for 'Book'. 



    

 

 

Here is a wound that never will heal, I know,
Being wrought not of a dearness and a death,
But of a love turned ashes and the breath
Gone out of beauty; never again will grow
The grass on that scarred acre, though I sow
Young seed there yearly and the sky bequeath
Its friendly weathers down, far Underneath
Shall be such bitterness of an old woe.
That April should be shattered by a gust,
That August should be levelled by a rain,
I can endure, and that the lifted dust
Of man should settle to the earth again;
But that a dream can die, will be a thrust
Between my ribs forever of hot pain.

 

{Edna St. Vincent Millay}

 

 

 



kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 
     TITLE: Like the first dewfall on the first grass [Halfamoon 2026]

     AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

     FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer; 

     CHARACTERS: OC's; Fatima El-baz & Sofia Blazhevich (Senior Chaplain & Junior Slayer respectively); 

     'VERSE: Not set in stone, but fanon-adjacent to Jet Wolf's much-mourned Chosenverse;  

     
RATING: PG-13; 

     WORD COUNT: 1,000; 

     NOTES: Started well before this year's Halfamoon this story ended up fitting the day three prompt (The Caregiver) perfectly.

                   Unlike most of my fics this one has a very specific date as it is set on the morning (in the area of Pennsylvania where Slayer HQ is situated) of the passing of Pope Francis on the 21
st April last year. Thus it's important that this is very much dedicated to me greatest supporter, elisi, and as begun a few days after that date, but before his successor, Leo XIV, was elected.

     I have a very extensive backstory for the chaplain; have her appearing in a couple of stories before this, all written a long time ago now. This is however the first time she has been a central character, though I have drafts for several ideas in several notebooks.

    Sofia is a new character, certainly my newest Buffy character and was born, given her age her, several years after the show's conclusion, and a few years after the Slayer HQ as created in Jet Wolf's Chosen!verse was established.

    ADDENDUM: This will also be posted for this year's halfamoon, which starts tomorrow ~or today~ depending on when I post this on my Dreamwidth and when I post it there.

 

 

 

     Sofia stumbled into her office just before Dawn. 
 

   And just after Dawn as it should happen. 
 

   Fatima Amastan Sultana Sara Tirzah Elbaz, known as Queenie to most of those for whom she was Chaplain, replaced the receiver she had been about to use and immediately devoted all her attention to the young Slayer. 
 

   Nothing could have happened to her girlfriend who; as with her own partner; Praise be to Allah she should return safely her arms, was embedded in a war zone. 
 

   She knew where both were and Buffy would hardly have left her in the dark if something had happened.

   As Sofia composed herself, it also occurred to her that her girlfriend; several years older than her and deeply embedded in occupied territory not far from Sofia's birthplace.

   No, whatever was distressing her, that was not it. She began to boil some water; waiting to ask if the girl wanted some green tea, or maybe some of the Black tea she might be more comforted by. 

   Patiently she helped the girl into a sofa chair she kept in her office and knelt, as was her fashion, and held Sofia's hand as she calmed down. 

   Finally she felt able to ask, “What is it, tafruxt?” 

   She was relieved to see Sofia manage a slightly embarrassed smile. 
   The girl spoke softly; sounding strained, naturally enough. “Pomer Papa Frantsysk... “ adding after a moment, possibly seeing her slight confusion. “The Pope has died. “ 

   She recalled Sofia's arrival; barely fourteen years old, more than five years before now, and nodded in understanding.

   The confusion returned however; wasn't Sofia Russian, and agnostic? 

   Sofia actually managed a grin at her expression, “I'm Catholic, “ reminding the Chaplain, “My family was allowed to move to Vasylivka not long before Krushchev died. “ 

   She nodded, recalling now that, though Sofia rarely attended Mass, she felt unusally comfortable being ministered to by someone who wasn't actually Catholic. A click made her rise and a raspy voice answered her unasked query, “Chornyy chay... bez lymona. “ She managed a smile and filled the old ceramic teapot her father had given her before she had boarded a ship heading for Sicily on her long journey to Pennsylvania. 

   As the tea steeped she recovered some sugar and placed it in a woven wicker bowl lined with Goat's kidskin, a gift from her best friend at the academy where she had trained. 

   She softly recited some of Surah Maryam for both her and her father; neither of whom she ever expected to see again. She repeated the words for her beloved; Sofia and her beloved. 

   Placing the pot and bowl on a wooden tray and carefully carried them over to where Sofia seemed lost in contemplation and placed them on the wooden table Yehudit had given her when they had spoken their commitments to each other. 

   Judith and Sara, as they referred to each other, could not be married by each other's faith, so their ceremony had been private and held near a waterfall out by Buttermilk Falls. 

   Sara held Sofia's hands and they held a silent blessing before she knelt down again. 

   While the tea steeped properly they discussed what Sofia wanted to do.

   Sara told her she would be hosting a mass if Sofia wanted to attend.

   She did not.

   Sara offered Sofia a private prayer session if Sofia was willing to teach her the Ukrainian.

   Sofia declined the latter but a simple latin prayer would be okay.

   Sensing Sofia's hesitancy she recalled her own need for comfort; especially since her habibti was so far from her. 

   Struggling with the knowledge that her habibti might be startlingly close to where Sofia had grown up, and just maybe was engaged in aiding Sofia's own family, she kept her bond; returning her mind to something more comforting for them both, 

   “You know my wife is Jewish? “ Sofia was perplexed; everyone knew that.

   Gently patting Sofia's hand Sara illucidated, “Every year, we go somewhere remote and commemorate the liberation of Auschwitz, Usually,” she added, getting up to find cups.

   Warming them, Sara informed her, “we plant bushes or trees; release fish or other creatures back into their natural environment.

   Sometimes we make love by an open fire and say the kaddish ... “ 

   Fearing she had spoken a little too freely she was relieved Sofia seemed not to have not heard.

 

   “You know the Kaddish? “ 


   The young woman wiped a tear away.

   “My father was taught the Yiddish when he was a child so he could assist with the Kaddish over the last survivor of the heto that had been close to where my family lived when we first moved to Vasilyvka. He believed those times should never be forgotten.

 

   As Sofia thought of her father, Sara kept a warm smile to herself thinking on her own.

 

   “Well I don't know the yiddish but if I speak the hebrew; you the yiddish...?

 

   Sofia seemed to come alive with that thought; one of her own following quickly, “By the sapling? Tomorrow at dawn?

 

   It was times like this that she felt blessed by her vocation.

 

   Sara poured the tea; adding more sugar than she should, but only as much as Sofia did.

   She preferred honey with her tea, but Sofia was who mattered on this occasion. Sara could already see her gaining a sense of strength from this talk.

 

   Fatima Amastan Sultana Sara Tirzah Elbaz, known as Queenie to those for whom she was Chaplain, felt something of the same herself; owning some comfort too in the belief she would be hold her habibti when she returned home; promising a prayer for the safe return from the Sudan for Sofia's girlfriend.

 

   She heard the echo of her father and her friend's voices, reminding her she still needed to call a Priest to hold the Mass for Pope Francis; in that moment too she felt the warmth of her father's gentle pride in her, and the warmth of her best friend's acceptance. 





    Goddess watch over you, 

     ' Sweet the rains new fall, sunlit from Heaven
     Like the first dewfall on the first grass 
     Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden 
     Sprung in completeness where His feet pass ' 
 
    kerk 
 


   addendum 1 ~ Surah 19: Maryam Ayat 96 


     
       إِنَّ ٱلَّذِينَ ءَامَنُوا۟ وَعَمِلُوا۟ ٱلصَّٰلِحَٰتِ سَيَجْعَلُ لَهُمُ ٱلرَّحْمَٰنُ وُدًّا

 

 Indeed, those who have believed and done righteous deeds - the Most Compassionate will bestow for them, love
 





   addendum  2 ~ lyrics which provided the title of this story... 




     Morning Has Broken (1971) by Cat Stevens (latterly Yusuf Islam)

   Morning has broken like the first morning
   Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
   Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
   Praise for them springing fresh from the world

   Sweet the rains new fall, sunlit from Heaven
   Like the first dewfall on the first grass
   Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
   Sprung in completeness where His feet pass

   Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
   Born of the one light, Eden saw play
   Praise with elation, praise every morning
   God's recreation of the new day

   Morning has broken like the first morning
   Blackbird has spoken like the first bird
   Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
   Praise for them springing fresh from the world

 

kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 
      TITLE: It Must Be Tuesday [for Halfamoon 2026]

      AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

      FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (based on Jet Wolf's Chosenverse continuation);

      RATING: PG;

      LENGTH: 200;

      CHARACTER(s): Buffy Summers; Faith Lehane; Andrew Wells; Rina Aymara (OC);

     SUMMARY: Buffy's life as The Slayer; General; Commander-in-Chief is not all grim; nor being buried in paperwork and schedules. Sometimes she gets to appreciate the surreal insanity of the life she has built for herself.

     A/N: Written for halfamoon's 2026 festival Day Two prompt of Guilty Pleasures; this is a kind of follow up to a 2013 fic of mine, A Slayer's Moon; or the Many, and Varied Paths of the Sun, which was set much more clearly in Jet Wolf's world.

             This is more loosely connected to her Chosenverse, as well as being part of a loose connected series following Faith's bizarre, to everyone, friendship with Andrew Wells or 'The Dweeb' as she calls him. Rina Aymara is a near full-blooded member of the Aymara nation; people who lived mostly live in the Andes in Bolivia (I'll likely update this by posting that old fic here, even though the old lj link still works).

            The Star Trek episode obliquely referenced is the fifth season Deep Space Nine ep, ''Doctor Bashir, I Presume?''

 

     Rinsing out her mug and placing it carefully on the mug tree; Buffy double-checked that her laptop was securely disabled for the night and left her office.

   As she locked the door behind her, her attention was drawn to what sounded like an argument coming from the direction of the senior staff's common room. Sighing in frustration she heard; approaching the open door, what sounded like Faith and Andrew...

   Peering around the corner she heard something about 'bashing something?'

   Sat upright Faith; arm outstretched, had a finger pointed straight at 'the Dweeb's' head.

   His arms were waving wildly in hurt frustration, while Rina Aymara was sat between them; attempting to chew betel nuts while trying to stifle laughter over what she had clearly instigated.

   Buffy, taking in the Star Trek episode on the TV, caught Faith's eyes; at once panicked; embarrassed and threatening, and threw up her hands defensively and carefully withdrew from the battle, grinning like a Looney Toons character.

   Safely clear she turned; shaking her head.

   Whatever it was all about was hardly likely to be any more bizarre than a fifteen year old 'mean girl' being told she was The Chosen One, meant to protect the world from Vampires.

 


    Goddess watch over you,


     

    kerk

 
  Some additional info...
   ###

  http://www.native-languages.org/bolivia.htm

 

  bolivianexpress.org/magazine-sub-item/71

 

   3. Rina Aymara = Aymara path. This unusual name is also quite controversial as it clearly shows the desire of the parents to reconnect with indigenous roots. It also denotes a pragmatic and ambitious personality, a life which will follow a clear path.

 

  1. Inti = Sun. he sun is a crucial deity for the Aymara; part of the sacred couple of Sun and Moon who, together with the Pachamama (Mother Earth) created the world. To be called Inti is an honour, and Inti has a responsibility to guide others; he has to work from the earliest hours of the day!
  ###

 




kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 
     TITLE: The Briefest of Heroes (re-post for Halfamoon 2026 Prompt #01 – The Innocent)

     AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

     FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

     'VERSE: Unofficially titled PrezKenn!verse as the very first fic was set after Kennedy had been elected President of the United States; this fic is set many year prior when a cold war between the remnants of the old Council of Watchers and their allies and the Council of Slayers set up by Willow & Giles; ancilliary organisations and their allies. This in AU continuation following a different conclusion to S4's body swap story.*

     LENGTH: 350,

     CHARACTER(s): OC; Willow; Kennedy;

     SHIP(s): Willow/Kennedy;

     SUMMARY: Amongst all the Slayers born into new powers; what happens to those who are alone; untrained and unfound. This is an account of one such abandoned innocent.

     A/N: Updated #1 ~ In this 'verse Tara is alive, but long separated from Willow and the Faith/Buffy bodyswap was not reversed, and few of the TV show's main characters believe Buffy is still alive, Faith & Tara, who are allies of the Council of Slayers which came into being after the destruction of Sunnydale (several years in time later than in canon) are the only ones actively searching for her with some agnostic aid from a few others).

             Updated #2 ~ Originally my headcanon had this set in the USA during the summer of 2020. The date stands, but I am disturbed by how much more relevant it feels to the current state of that country, or indeed the world, from the streets of Iran to Minneapolis; who knows how many other places could be added.

             Updated #3 ~ Dedicated to the hundreds of thousands of deaths from the destruction that happened to create Central Park and Tulsa City massacres to Tiananmen Square and Tahrir Square; from the resource created horrors of Gaza; Sudan; Timor; Rwanda and the Congo.

             Updated #4 ~ Re-dedicated to George Floyd & Sandra Bland; Marsha P. Thompson & Sylvia Rivera and all they represent. Newly dedicated to Keith Porter; Renée Good & Alex Pretti and all the un-named or unknown victims of the monstrosity in the House of Bones in DC* and, I fear, the victims to come of the insanity of the rise of the fascist sycophantic followers of the Faragist party festering even here in Scotland.

             Updated #5 ~ Image used originally as, in my headcanon, the un-named main character was a refugee from the Rohingya being decimated by the military government of Myanmar.

             ps. Vote DC https://www.dcvote.org/

 

   This is not a happy story with a happy ending.

 



     She did not know where she was.

   Cool, with none of the humid warmth she was used to.

 

   Home.

   She remembered a home.

   Not the place of her birth.

 

   Even her Sister had not had that memory.

   Death met in a boat's depths.

   Tossed overboard; cursed wastage.

 

   She had a name too.

   Nought the Men cared.

   A real name.

   She had forgotten her own as well.

 

   It was dark here.

   Cold and harsh.

   Sharpness slashing her feet.

 

   Steadily down; step after painful, bloodied step.

   Shock froze her as she felt freedom's grasp.

   And took her; disoriented, toward a sea of noise.

   Turned a corner; into crashing waves of people.

 

   She had not conceived the world held so many.

   The camp had not prepared her.

   They had reached water and found Hell.

 

   Toes touched cold, hard glass.

   Reaching down she picked up the bottle.

   She drank.

   It burned bitter, but it refreshed.

 

   She sensed the ebbing of the tide of Humanity.

   Stepped into the gap created.

   Turning from them she found a faceless line of armored... people?

   Weapons raised.

 

   She paused.

   They paused.

   The crowd behind her paused.

   The world froze.

 

   The faceless weapons took a step.

   She did not retreat.

   Those behind cried louder.

   She felt their desperation; rage, pulse through her.

 

   The power building within her burst free.

   Energised every cell; to the least particle of her being.

   Instinct guided her hand to a jagged piece of hard wood.

 

   Desperate; Fearful; Angry; Righteous.

   Her skin burned with their need for justice.

   Fury enveloped her.

   Teeth bared in the face of the Demons, she snarled.

 

   She screeched like a fiery sea bird.

   Arm raised, the crowd roared.

 

   Berserker; she charged.

 

    ~~~

 

   Kennedy caught her; hand wiping sweat from her brow.

   Willow was barely able to shake her head.

   Blanket laid around her naked torso she collapsed into her lover's chest.

   Attempting comfort Kenn said she could try again in the morning.

   Willow sobbed silently; knowing different.

   Another Slayer had slipped away.

   Gone.

   Another nameless girl lost to their insanity.

 

   Fallen.

   Falling.

   Failing.

 

   Water was closing overhead.

   Would she find land?

 

   Would they find harbor?

 

 

 

     Goddess watch over us all,


      text - Dua when in distress
 

     kerk

 

 

    ps. [personal profile] elisi , on reading this; or the immediate version anyway, back in June (of 2020) commented with a couple of lines from this https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47311/the-waste-land which I unconsciously echoed; even though I had not read it for over twenty years, I think.
    These are the lines :-

     ~ A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,

        I had not thought death had undone so many. ~  





kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 
   Discovered that a Korean actress, Kim Sae-ron was found dead at her home this morning. 

   This fanvid https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m9DhOV2Rexg for her, and her character on the Korean adaptation of Leverage opened up a whole new world of Korean cinema and dramas for me. 

   I Can't help but believe she was hounded to death because of a drink-driving incident something like three years ago. Korean media and fans can be incredibly toxic. More than a few actors & artists have taken their lives because of it. Too early to know what happened, but hard to believe that bullying culture did not play a huge role.*

  Hard to fathom that another talent with such potential is gone. 

  Only thing I can think now is I really need to get that Soljiwan story written and not forget to dedicate to her & Yun Sol and Seo Ji-wan; also the actors who played them Lee Jo-jung & Yun Sol-ah. 

  Goddess grant she find the peace now that she could never find in this world. 

  Trying hard not to cry now. 

   

  kerk 

  ps. *Cannot say if it was truly the reason, but I have been on the edge of that abyss too many times for it not to be at the forefront of my thoughts.

  






kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 
    TITLE: Thru October, until Forever

    AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

    FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

    LENGTH: 200 

    CHARACTERS: Lisa Torres*; Dawn Summers; Martin King (Lisa's Dad),

    'SHIP: Dawn/Lisa,

    SUMMARY: As this is intended for Halfamoon 2025's Day Thirteen Prompt, One Hit Wonders, a little backstory.

                        Lisa is Dawn's companion during her scenes in 'The Body'; only scenes she, Lisa' has in the series. Over the years I have written a lot; A Lot, of stories featuring the two as a couple.

                       This is the first time she has had a surname; this is the case with her Dad as well; hence the different surnames, a fact that will be, hopefully, be explained in a future story. Lisa's Mom died when she was two year's old.
                      Those three facts are the same in every 'verse I've written them into and, the only relevance they have here is that a certain character is alive in this 'verse, and her name is included in the story. Relevant here is that Lisa's Mom and Dad never married and her Dad has been raising her alone since her Mom died.

                      At this point they are somewhere between Homecoming, when they were seventeen, and the second half of their Senior year when they are both eighteen; no particular relevance there, excepting it leaves it open for me to include this story in all my Buffyverses where Sunnydale is destroyed.

A/N: Title is a reference both to Girl in Red's iconic We Fell in Love in October, but also to the original idea for a story I've been working on since, it feels like forever, as far back as lockdown.

 

 

     “Butterflies?

 

   Lisa managed to breathe, at least, as Dawn's pinky brushed hair from her wet cheek. Grasping the finger she kissed it, smiling as she turned her head.

   “Feet as big as icebergs.

 

   Dawn's eyes revealing how young she really wasn't, Lisa was transported back to the first time she'd made Dawn laugh after the death of her Mother.

 

   “Are we ready?

   Dawn's query was almost the reverse of hers on Dawn's first day back at School after the funeral.

 

   Wordlessly touching foreheads they began whispering some of Tara's favourite song lyrics; almost like a prayer to them now.

   The sound of the front door of her house roused them; turning they saw her Dad, trying to look stern with his arms across his chest.

   Demanding an answer.

 

   “Are We not due a formal introduction?

 

   Momentarily confused Lisa rolled her eyes, before realising that this was Dawn's first visit since they'd come out as a couple. Then she took in the formal inquiry.

   Her Dad was talking about her Mom.

 

   Smiling as a single tear prepared to journey down her cheek, Lisa took their hands in hers; connecting the four of them.

 

   “My Parents this... This is my Heart revealed.

 






    May the Goddess watch over you in these dark time, 
    kerk hiraeth 


     FIRST LOVE 
     by 
     John Clare 
 

     I ne’er was struck before that hour    
       With love so sudden and so sweet, 
    Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower    
       And stole my heart away complete. 
    My face turned pale as deadly pale,    
      My legs refused to walk away, 
    And when she looked, what could I ail?    
      My life and all seemed turned to clay.  
 
    And then my blood rushed to my face    
      And took my eyesight quite away, 
    The trees and bushes round the place    
      Seemed midnight at noonday. 
    I could not see a single thing,    
      Words from my eyes did start— 
   They spoke as chords do from the string,    
      And blood burnt round my heart.  
 
   Are flowers the winter’s choice?    
      Is love’s bed always snow? 
   She seemed to hear my silent voice,    
     Not love's appeals to know. 
   I never saw so sweet a face    
     As that I stood before. 
  My heart has left its dwelling-place    
     And can return no more. 
 


 

kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 

    TITLE: Dear Mama,

    AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

    FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (FemaleHusband!verse)

    CHARACTER: Buffy Summers 

    LENGTH: 300,

   RATING: PG-13,

   A/N: This is set some time after the setting up of Slayer HQ (around 2005) and the time the first of the various Slayer facilities started becoming operational (between late 2006 and the summer of 2008), with the facilities in Tibet & Scotland mentioned.

           The title originates with one of the episodes of Jet Wolf's Buffy continuation where Kennedy & Tara are on a road trip; discovering a mixtape of Tara's, and also discovering that Tara's music taste is far removed from what she assumed. It's also the fourth, or fifth, different title that I considered and, quite literally, decided upon when I was looking for the final line.

           I was trying to find the landing for this story and, from somewhere in my head, this song popped into my head. Given that the, original, two paragraphs were about Tara & Buffy's Moms; 2Pac's Dear Mama www.youtube.com/watch not only reduced that to a single line, but also gave me my title.

 

      Shonen Knife were playing in her ears as she made her spidery notes in the margins of reports; drinking the Jamaican Mountain Blue, sent her by Kendra's old watcher. A bottle of Japanese Whisky was on it's way in reciprocation.

   She smiled behind her cup; knowing full well they were commenting.

   She didn't need to hear them.

    ~~~

   The table, both private and public; peaceful as the old library making love to the Espresso Pump at midnight, was a tiny alcove in the never quiet commissary.

   Making herself a cup of tea; sent from the Tibetan facility by Oz, she started reading the training reports; much easier task now that the Slayers trained by Giles and Olivia were in charge of typing them up.

   She smirked at the highly inappropriate lyrics TLC were uttering.

    ~~~

   Her belly warmed satisfactorily by some deliciously spicy Solangon chicken soup; prepared by their brand new Filipina Watcher-cum-Chef, she relaxed with some Korean desserts; Japanese sodas; sent her by Satsu, and a gorgeous ice cream made by an old friend, and fellow refugee from Sunnydale, she began looking over the names of Slayers who had passed their...

   The Junior Slayers insisted on calling it Cruciamentum

   … except these kids were over eighteen; returning from deserved vacations, and needing to be assigned.

 

   And nobody had died.

   She liked the sound of that.

 

   After pencilling in a couple of names Buffy rose; deciding she needed some more tea. As the water boiled she relaxed by reading the label on the mixtape Tara had given her; some eighties Japanese band was doing a Doors cover.

   ''That'll Show-ya.'' Chuckling at the thought of Satsu's groan when she heard her chief's terrible joke she returned to the table with the hot water.

    ~~~

   As the fates were wont to do, just as Buffy was about to start on the progress reports for the trainees, the authors returned from a night out; Kennedy, who was leaving for Scotland in the morning, came in to the Commissary and, spotting her, stopped Vi and Rona from invading her personal sanctuary.

   Feeling an uncharacteristic warmth for the woman they were all convinced would have succeeded Faith, Buffy opened up the report folder again.

 

   Just then 2Pac turned up as the last artist on the mixtape.

 

   She grinned and shook her head at Tara's amazingly unpredictable musical taste.

 

   Buffy slowly made a silent, and invisible, toast her Mom.

 

    

 

 

     May the Goddess watch over you and those you love in these dark time,

     kerk hiraeth 
 


kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 

   TITLE: Chasing Cars

   AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

   LENGTH: 200

   FANDOM: GL's / Kdramas

   CHARACTERS/'SHIP: OC's (there are three)

   A/N: This idea is a variation on something I've been writing, and re-writing, in my head for well over two years. Sometimes they are Thai; sometimes Filipina; sometimes Korean. This will also, hopefully become something else one day. Even the title changed several times as I have been trying to write this version. The characters have names. I do not know them yet, and may never do so. All three have pretty full back stories; all in my head ~ some of which is finally down on paper, metaphorically speaking.

          This was written for Halfamoon; intended for 2025 Day 1 prompt; Fashion it actually feels, now that I have this as finished as I feel it can be, more fitting for lasy year's Day 1 prompt Black/White, but particularly, Shades of Grey. 

ADDENDUM: I came to the conclusion this was a good fit for Halfamoon, but it will go up there for Day 14 prompt, First Loves.  


 

     As with a mirror crack'd my memories are dis... jointed.

   She was wearing a younger boys shorts, and a soccer jersey; at least one size too big.

   For him.

   She was at least a head shorter than me; more than a head taller than me the last time we were together at her eighteenth birthday party.

   She was dressed in red then too; Calvin Klein boxers I'd bought her.

 

   But I can't remember her.

 

   What she sees is a ghost.

 

   I ran.

   She stayed and fought.

   I don't know the woman she became.

   And I do not remember the girl she loved.

   That ghost in her head.

   That girl died the night she got on her knees for the price of a bowl of soup.

 

   I see the love we had in the photographs, but I don't remember her.

   I don't know her.

   Do you imagine I want her to know what I became.

   After twenty years I am not that girl; not even a woman really.

   I am what I became that night.

 

   Can you hold her?

   If you do nothing else; hold her the way I did once, the way she...

 

   The way I wish I could.

 



    Goddess watch over you, 

    kerk 







     I can't run anymore,

     I fall before you,

     Here I am,

     I have nothing left

     Though I've tried to forget,

     You're all that I am,

     Take me home,

     I'm through fighting it,

     Broken,

     Lifeless,

     I give up,

     You're my only strength,

     Without you,

     I can't go on,

     Anymore,

     Ever again. 

   (lyrics from October by Evanescence) 

kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 
    TITLE: The Slayer That Came in from the Cold

    AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

    FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (FemaleHusband!verse)

    CHARACTER(s): Faith Lehane;

    'SHIP: none;

   LENGTH: 350;

   RATING: R;

   A/N: After two years away Faith has been called back to Slayer HQ; established near the City of Trillium which, though close to a hellmouth, only marks the epicentre of a fiery series of hot spots; most dangerous of which is in Cleveland, but with fiery siblings near Pittsburgh and Philadelphia.

           Irrelevant to this story is that Faith had already made the decision to return, but only Buffy and Giles know this. Also irrelevant to this story, but important to the series is why they called Faith back; hopefully it won't be too long before I write that story.

          This 'verse originates from the non-canon death of Willow in Season Six. 

ADDENDUM: I decided this was a good fit for the Halfamoon 2025 Day 3 prompt, Self-care. 

 

 

      By the time she brought her battered old Indian to a rolling halt outside the gatehouse Faith could see it was well past midnight.

    After staring down the Slayer in charge, she ignored the instructions she was given, and headed round by the old path next to where the hayfields had been.

    More than fifty hours on the road; she needed food, not fucking orders.

    Travelling at a purring lope she could see some kids under the lights having a catcher vs. umpire dispute as she took in the changes to the structures and layout in the two years she'd been gone.

    Growling at herself, she was still impressed as she dismounted out front of where the inner courtyard stables had been. She took in some kids playing a board game; one hurriedly hiding a plastic bag.

    Somebody had painted 'The Feading Room' in rainbow colours over the entrance; they'd used it to store crates of books while they repaired the main house, which set Faith to smirking that her snarky joke would be remembered by kids she'd never met she headed straight for the main cafeteria.

    Five minutes later she sat down; tray laden with baked potatoes; pasta; pierogi and chocolate cake.

    And confiscated beer.

    She recognised some of the faces staring at her as she fed her face.

    Grabbing up the last of the pierogi and polished off another beer; watched by the kid she's snagged them from. Grinning at her Faith stood up and chugged the last beer.

    Buffy and her Band of Bureaucrats could wait.

    Not needing to ask directions; she could see the floor plan Buffy's kid sister had drawn in her head, she grabbed some more Japanese sodas, heading straight for the only room in the building with a bed and a private shower.

    Odds on a fuck were low and she needed a shower and a bunk down more than a fuck anyhow.

    As she fell asleep she was thinking how to hammer these kids into some kind of shape; almost as if she'd come home.

    She kinda liked feeling warm as well.

 



      



      

     May the Goddess watch over you and those you love,

 

     kerk hiraeth  





kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 

   TITLE: Jukyō no tōchi? a.k.a. Confucian Reigns

   AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

   FANDOM: X-over ~ Buffy the Vampire Slayer ( femalehusband!verse ); Good Omens (book);

   CHARACTER(s): Anathema Device; Newton Pulsifer; Tara Maclay; Faith Lehane;

   'SHIP(s): Newton Pulsifer/ Anathema Device; Faith Lehane/Tara Maclay;

   LENGTH: 666;

   RATING: PG (I guess as there's some suggestion of sexual content, but nothing explicit;

   A/N: Just a bit of speculative nonsense; timelines can be whatever you want them to be.

           This is Tara & Faith from ~ a version, at least, of the FemaleHusband!verse & Newton Pulsifer & Anathema Device from a version of the Good Omens Book!verse, set sometime in that world after the conclusion of the book; radio version & TV version totally ignored ~ easily, as I have pretty much forgotten the radio version, and have never seen and have, mostly, been able to ignore the TV version of Good Omens.

          Not sure the punn-y title really works, but I'm sticking with it.

          ~ This is dedicated* to the inestimable  elisi who has given me more help; friendship & hope than almost anyone else in my life.

         I hope she likes this wee thank you; even with all the slippery timey-wimey-ness...

 

 

    They were both thinking that having a book of predictions would be a useful thing right now. 

 “Confucius he say, 'the night to come will bear winds of great strength and breadth enough to darken the moon'.'“ 

 Anathema Device temporarily turned her mind from the flat tyre, and frowned at the passenger beside her. 

 “ Did your car just tell us it would be a dark and stormy night? “ 

 Newton Pulsifer attempted to shrug; he did not know how to explain his plastic Japanese vehicle suddenly spouting Chinese; he presumed it was Chinese, proverbs. 

 So he just kind of shuddered instead as he suddenly felt the car, very jerkily, being lifted off the ground; tipping the, safely seat-belted travellers, backwards. 

 He also ignored the fact that a young woman was kneeling to remove the flat tyre, while her companion began knocking on the driver's side window. 


 It was just the two of them; inside and out. 

 Just the two. 


 The woman at the window proffered a bag of cookies. Anethama, smiling, accepted the bag, took a small handful and passed them over to her boyfriend. 

 Fortunately for him, Newton Pulsifer was in too much of a state of shock to display his usual shocked smile that he, Newton Pulsifer, had an actual girlfriend. 

 A real girlfriend that he, Newton Pulsifer, was actually having real sex with. 


 From beside him, a Bostonian accent ~ he had watched Warlock many times as part of his research; certainly not at the behest of his former comrade, Witchfinder Sergeant Shadwell, who would not have approved ~ suddenly yelled, “ Roll me one. “ 


 Before he could point out that his Wasabi had no spare tyre, even in its miraculously reconditioned... er ~ condition... the woman disappeared from the window and rolled a spare tyre under where the front of the car should have been, presumably into the waiting hands of her ~ he had the disturbing notion that the two were lovers. 


 He wondered how red his face was getting as he fought his unwanted imagination; knowing that for certain, his girlfriend would know what was absolutely not trying to creep into his unwanted imagination. 


 He could almost hear Shadwell's admonishments to righteousness. 


 Disturbingly he seemed to be using Anathema's accent... 


 He risked a sideways glance. Finally he heard what she was actually saying. 


 “ … these are really very good. “ 


 They locked eyes. 
  He could see in them that she was well aware his girlfriend; Newton Pulsifer's girlfriend, was well aware the woman was a witch. What the woman changing the non-existent spare tyre was... well a mystery. 


 Suddenly his Wasabi interrupted his; their?, thoughts with a repeat of her confucing, Confusion... 


 He frowned. 
 His frown doubled its frown when he considered the almost cloudless November sky gleaming back down at him. 
 It wasn't even afternoon. 
 His car had never been prone to weather predictions either. 


 Then the Wasabi was slowly; and much more smoothly lowered to the ground. 


 Newton Pulsifer stared straight ahead, and not at the whispers the Cookie Lady was presenting to her... roommate's ear. The roommate grinned and could clearly be seen ~ but not by him ~ mouthing, 'Again?


 He felt guilty that they never even thought of... offering their rescuers a lift, but he was too busy not looking at the woman as she leant into the car; gently refusing to take the bag of cookies back from his, Newton Pulsifer, girlfriend. 


 He successfully fought off a smile once more. 


 “ If I were you, “ she suggested, “ I'd park, “ she paused glancing down, as if seeing the plasticity of the Wasabi for the first time, “ at the Rail Station, and take the train to Yorkshire. “ 


 This time Newton Pulsifer glanced at his girlfriend. 
 Anathema was ~ not staring ~ er, glancing back at him. 


 How had she known they were off to visit Anathema's ancestral home? 


 “ It's going to be a dark and stormy night. “ 


 So intent were they on getting to the Train Station that they didn't see where the two women had disappeared for their... ~ uhm, picnic. 



   Fanart of Newton Pulsifer and Anathema Device from Good Omens

   tio-trile.tumblr.com/post/114108619069/requests-well-we-havent-seen-your-headcanon

    
   

 

That dedication ~ This comes from 'The Storied Life of A.J. Fikry' and consists of a note he is writing to his adopted daughter, Maya, about a story he is reccomending to her. ' Maya, perhaps you don't know that I had a wife before Amelia and a profession before I became a bookseller. I was once married to a woman named Nicole Evans. I love her very much. She died in a car accident, and a large part of me was dead for a long time after, probably until I found you.

 

( to elisi, there's a lot more, but I wanted to include the first paragraph ~ the rest you can read when you get to the copy of the book I sent to you ~ before I added the sentence that matters most here. Little of this is specific to the two of us, but the intent of what I am trying to say is expressed in these last words. You know more about my life than most anyone else and you still seem to like me. That means more than I can truly express. This story is just a small gift to say thank you. )

 

' … if you're ever interested in reading more about the things your dad did in another life'.

 

~ A.J.F.

 

 

May the Goddess watch over you and all you love,

kerk hiraeth

 

 

 

 

 

kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 

    
    


lola lecomte | sober { skamfrance }


    


   Lola Lecomte // Paralyzed [Skam France S6] 
 

     


     Lola Lecomte || Someday you'll understand 




   


     lola's defense squad | leave a light on [ Skam France s6 ] 






      


     Lola and Maya || Can you hold me? 
















     Goddess watch over you and those you love, 

      



     kerk hiraeth 

kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 

    
     NOT WAVING BUT DROWNING 
     by Stevie Smith


   Nobody heard him, the dead man,   
  But still he lay moaning:
  I was much further out than you thought   
  And not waving but drowning.
 
  Poor chap, he always loved larking 
  And now he’s dead
  It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,   
  They said.
 
  Oh, no no no, it was too cold always   
  (Still the dead one lay moaning)   
  I was much too far out all my life   
  And not waving but drowning.



    Stevie Smith, “Not Waving but Drowning” from Collected Poems of Stevie Smith. Copyright © 1972 

















     










   timnawoollard.com/personal/paintings/not-waving-but-drowning










   May the Goddess watch over you, and those you love, 

   kerk hiraeth












kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 







  














   












   







  





kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 

    Hard to fathom that something like eighteen months ago I lived in world that was empty of Yun Sol & Seo Ji-wan and their magic. These two weren't even in the original source material the TV show was based on; were created especially for that and it really shows. Their story is so much more nuanced and lacking in melodrama; so much more real and fun and, as a result, they feel so much more real. Even the lead character works better as a character, and the acting is so much better when she's interracting with these two. 

  I began a soljiwan fic mid-December of 2021, and feel closer now than in more than a year to be able to finish it. 

  So much love for these characters. 

  As one reactor screamed, "The Lesbians in the writer's room. Doing God's Work!" 

  kerk 





 


  Sol x Jiwan | All The Things She Said 



 


  #soljiwan: Sorry for liking you 




 




 


  Sol ✘ Ji-wan ► I like me better ║Nevertheless 




   May the Goddess watch over you and those you love, 

   kerk 




kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 

    Cannot recall now when it was I first saw the first of these videos; must have been because I was watching other fanvids using this song, but whenever it was I fell in love with this show, and this couple long before I got to see the eight episodes that  made up the magic that is Transit Girls and Sayuri & Yui. Not only them, but it's one of the few shows ever made where I like ALL the characters; the wonderful single parents; the heartbroken friends, even the really cool ex-boyfriend. The smile that appears on the face of Yui's mother in the final episode is a lovely sight. 

 Only eight episodes; so hard to believe since I seem to have watched the entire run three times a week since last November. And I even wrote my first fanfic for nearly a year for the heartbroken friends. 

 I love them all. 

 kerk 



    


  〈Transit Girls Yui&Sayuri〉-Wherever You Are 







 


  I choose you from Transit Girls  ( I can't believe it wasn't until this post that I checked who was singing, or why it felt so familiar, even though I'd never heard it until I found this video.~ Sara Bareilles of course, who else!?! ) 






   May the Goddess watch over you and all those you love, 

   kerk 

kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 

    I discovered this couple, and the series; out of Thailand and a remake of the UK series Skins, when I was videos for other shows; vids for which will follow, and fell in love with them. For a show from a still conservative, which started it's series not far short of a decade ago it has some very progressive plots. 

 Dao & Koi were not the only Queer characters either, there were gay male students and at least one bisexual; indeed both Dao & Koi are written as bisexual. Dao was one of the main characters in that first season; witk Koi being promoted to the main cast in the second season. That second season only happened after the creators and the channel that aired the show withstood a campaign to the show banned. 

 Very early in the second season classmates are noticing just how close they are as friends and, while uncomfortable with the teasing, their friendship strengthens and part way through they realise that they actually do have feelings for each other; feeling that Koi appears to embrace more readily than Dao, who believes her mother will never accept them. 

 All ends well for them though, with an incredible set of scenes in the fourth & eleventh episodes of the third, and final, season. 

 Enjoy the four (as I could not choose which of the first two to leave out) vids. 

 kerk 





   


  [FMV] ก้อย x ดาว l Koi x Dao Story - The Luckiest 




  
 


   Daokoi - I need to be next to you 



 


  [FMV] Koi x Dao - Love Me Like You Do - [Hormones] 



 



  แตกต่างเหมือนกัน (Cover Version) ดาว-ก้อย Ost.Hormones วัยว้าวุ่น 




   May the Goddess watch over you and those you love, 




   kerk hiraeth 







kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 

    Since I'm not going to get many more fics done, I thought I'd post some fanvids for the Day 6 theme; choosing some of my favourite fanvids of my favourite couples, and I thought I'd start with the first non-Buffyverse couple to really capture my imagination; or at least the one where I began looking for vids. 

  Zoë Rivas arrived at Degrassi at the start of S13 of Next Gen and her gay story was being written into her characters arc in very subtle ways almost from the start, but began to 'come out' *sorry* when she developed feelings for a close friend, Grace Cardinal. While Grace tried to return the feelings she eventually confessed that she was straight and could not be Zoë's girlfriend. 

  Between then and the finale of S2 of Next Class Zoë followed a self-destructive path of denial before she finally came out to her boyfriend Winston Chu after he rejected her advances, sensing she was hiding something from herself.  

  In the opener of S3 Rasha Zuabli was one of a number of Syrian refugees who arrived at Degrassi, and very quickly the two became girfriends and were eventually open by S4; meanwhile Zoë having been kicked out of the family home after dancing publicly with Rasha at he mother's wedding. 

  I've written a fic from Rasha's POV called Love is Patient, Love is Kind archiveofourown.org/works/21538003 which was supposed to have had a twin by now, but while I keep going over scenes in my head, nothing has yet made it to pencil & paper. 

  Hope you enjoy the vids. 

  kerk 



    



  Zasha - Would You Be So Kind [Zoe Rivas + Rasha Zuabi] 



 


  
  Surrender - {Zoë & Rasha} 



 


  Zasha // I wanna come to you 





 May the Goddess watch over you and those you love,  

 kerk hiraeth 




kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 

   TITLE: Sports Report

   AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

   FANDOM: Buffy the Vampier Slayer (Jet Wolf's Chosen'verse);

   CHARACTER(s): Faith Lehane; Buffy Summers; *oc; Sam & Riley Finn; Capt. Ben Sisko;

   'SHIP(s): None (Finn's*);

   LENGTH: 1,600;

   RATING: PG-13;

   A/N: This mostly from Faith's POV, with the unnamed Slayer being the little girl seen becoming a Slayer the Series Finale (we do not acknowledge the comics as canon) so, depending on how you age her; this being set on her twentieth birthday, the year in which this is set can be calculated from that.

          This is set in one of my versions of Jet Wolf's Chosen continuation (which one I have yet to make clear to myself, so I have left that vague).

         Hers is, or was, for me the only continuation that truly captured what I felt about the show. Sadly, though she completed an Eighth season, that continuation ended part way through a ninth season and it seems as if she has disappeared from the fandom for good as her various wonderful Buffy stories, on her own sites, have begun to to disappear (I have yet to have the courage to find out if any are archived; being left with the printed & personally archived versions.

       She was one of a handful of fan writers who competed with and, in many cases, bettered what was produced on the show itself.

 

*Characters/Ships marked thus are only mentioned and may be regarded as uncredited.

 

     Keeping a tight hold of the reports vital to the mission, Faith wandered down to the quiet clearing in the, now extensive, wooded land at what was the most down hill of the land that constituted the Headquarters of the International Network of Slayers; Watchers and Mystics had a major presence, but their headquarters were on separate continents.

   Trillium; located at the centre of a triangle of hellmouths, with Cleveland being the one most closely watched; only one with it's separate Slayer Command Centre would always be the HQ, no matter where operational HQ was located.

   It was operating as Operations Command for the moment, simply because Buffy was in situ; as were others in close touch with Faith who was the Slayer; though Buffy was The Slayer. She recalled getting drunk the first time she realised she had noticed the difference in one of her own reports to the Council Afrchives.

 

   Today was much more important.

 

   Approaching the end of the path; now shaded by as many trees as Faith had seen before she had become the Slayer, she began to slow; unconsciously allowing the grief control her pace. She felt her hand touch her jacket pocket; hard leather covered object strapped against her hip.

   Then she spied the Sapling; still called that, and always capitalized, even though it had children all over the world now; even one at a, mostly, secret base on Antarctica.

   Stepping into the clearing she pulled the object from its harness; removed the flask from its leather cover and took a sip of the Rum within.

 

   Five months since the kid; always a kid to her, had been killed protecting two of her charges and Faith still needed to take a drink whenever she had to deal with that.

 

   The flask had been a gift from her mother; handed to her at the memorial she wished she could forget.

   No body. No funeral.

   Her mom bore no malice; proud of the woman she had become, and as proud as Faith of the warrior she had become.

   Faith still could hardly bear to think of the tiny, fiercely determined, child she had picked up when she had arrived in Florida all those years ago.
   The child had become an adult before her eyes; graduated with honors, from three of the world's finest Universities, as well as being made an honorary member of the Baseball Hall of Fame; never to have the chance to play the sport she loved professionally. Faith recalled the day that baby had come screaming with joy at the Rockford Peaches replica uniform some movie star had sent her.

 

   Faith had still not cleared her room; would not allow anyone to do it.

   Not yet.

   She couldn't.

 

   She took another sip from the flask as she recalled the drunken tirade she had hit 'B' with when she had discovered the age of the child she had to train.

   Watchers, every one from the dawn of time, were the target, but the blows; five of them, rained on Buffy's face, which no hands were raised to protect, until her inebriation had resulted in a glancing blow to the side of 'B's head and Faith going ass over tit into the swimming pool; from which Faith had to be rescued, the younger Slayers had built ~ almost with their bare hands ~ in world record time.

 

   Sometimes; even today, she still wanted to knock 'B' onto her backside.
   Mostly now it was because 'B' would tap the side of her head and complain about bells in a bad Charles Laughton voice.

 

   Five months since she had died; five months that seemed to have changed Faith beyond her own recognition, even more than the years since this place has been set up and she had returned to take a full role in it's operation had done.

 

   It would have been her twentieth birthday; no cruciamentum nowadays, this would have been the day she would have discovered she been promoted to an operational command; officially made a full Slayer, with a place on the Council and command over a small army of Slayers; Watchers; Mystics and a larger force of ancilliary personnel.

   Faith had put her on the list of candidates for that post when she had turned eighteen.

   Even though no one under twenty five was usually considered for a command like that these days, Faith was one of the few who could make a recommendation like that, and she had not hesitated.

   Gratefully she had handed over the decision on that post to Buffy; unable to bear naming a replacement; only one besides Giles; Willow; Kenn... and... 

 

   It would never happen.

 

   She took another sip and knelt down in front of the Sapling; dropping the flask on the ground.

   Buffy told her who the replacement would be; More than forty months older than she would have been, the replacement had been one of Faith's charges too; same squad as a matter of fact.

   She had taken two years out to become a mother, but had kept up her training; actually considered becoming a Watcher, but accepted Buffy's request ~ after some intense discussions with her partner ~ which 'B' had told her about less than half an hour before.

   'B' had offered Faith the opportunity to inform her, but Faith had politely, but forcefully, declined.
   Buffy had smiled and handed her the folder she was now leafing through.

   It was full of important reports; for this mission, from every command in the world even, she noted, the Finns - wherever they were in Central America - had sent reports.
   She smiled at the different styles of the recs; especially the shade that Sam aimed her way and the detailed stats of the different operations teams in their 'league' ~ which had never yet completed a season.

   Even 'Sailor Boy' Sisko had sent a report up from Baton Rouge; complete with a set of Navy Knickers for her.

 

   *note to self. Whup him upside the head next time you see him, Lehane.

 

   As Faith recalled the pride in the pictures all three had sent her when she got her latest medal from the Secretary of the Navy, she could still hear the excited little girl waving the Peaches uniform; leaping about Faith's office as if she'd just just had her cheek kissed by some teen pop star crush.

 

   Faith wiped dust from her eyes, and had another sip from the flask.

 

   Leafing through the reports trying to decide which one to start with, she suddenly lay them on top of the flask; making a sudden decision.

   Hesitating for a few moments, Faith took a heavy breath and...

 

   A red crested bird, several thousand kilometres from where it should have been, suddenly dropped on top of the papers; stared up at her, and hopped over to one of the water vessels filled several times a day by all the personnel at HQ, it was needed.

   Nobody came here without water.

   Except for her.

   Today.

 

   Faith couldn't recall ever hearing of a bird using that one.

   She watched it as it drank; occasionally lifting it's head.

   Was the wee bastard glaring at her?

   The creature hopped back on top of the papers again; cocking its head as if it was waiting for Faith to start.

 

   Faith felt her breath leaving her for a second.

   She couldn't take another sip; not in front of...

 

   Get a hold of yourself, Lehane. It's a bird.

   Just a bird.

   Her favorite bird.

 

   Faith managed to glare back at the creature before she gathered her senses and began speaking.

 

   “Thought you'd enjoy getting it from me, but the Red Sox got swept by the Marlins; means they secured at least a wildcard. Red Sox need to win at least five of their remaining games to get one.

    Kid sister got a sports scholarship to Notre Dame, but has decided to go to Smith College instead. I quote, 'can't play professional, so I might as well work on my noggin instead.' I will be having a word with her watcher about the words she's teaching her pupils.

    Oughta let you know one of your old squad will be taking on the command I had you greenlit for before you got slack and let your ass get kicked.

   The two slayers you saved returned to full duty last week and want me to pass on their thanks.

   Your mother donated the money we sent her to a dozen public schools in your city, and the neighbouring counties. 

   Don't tell her but we tripled it. 

   Billie passed her exams and will be refereeing in Professional Soccer leagues in Scotland. She asked me to tell you she misses you; her wife passed on her thanks too for convincing Billie that not being an active Slayer was the best choice. She's still on the reserve, but you were right and I think it's obvious she's better suited to be a tutor and watcher in the future. You got the better of me on that one too.

   Last thing. I bought your family World Series tickets; all seven games, assuming the Marlins make it that far. One seat to be left empty, or given to someone else. 

   Be wanting the cash if they don't,

   If the Red Sox make it I'll expect nothing less than a barrel of Blood Wine and a lifetime's supply of Fenway Dogs.

 

   Right, I've got a lot of these mission reports to get through; so I'd better crack on.

 

   *note to self, stop listening to that bloody watcher's verbal reports, Lehane.

 

   “Since the one replacing you is from there; I'll start with Taslima's. She's home in Dhaka and it's all bloody Cricket of course! She's all about their youth team winning their group at the world cup; apparently she's expecting them...

 

   The tiny bird, having needed refreshment, had left when she had mentioned money; returned when she got on to the subject of food. It began to sing a bit when she mentioned Taslima, and made her smile when it seemed to nod excitedly.

 

   Sun shining through the treeline, she appreciated it's warmth even more.

   Faith grinned, zipped up her jacket and tilted her head in appreciation before continuing. 

   Sharp eye on her, she sat straight and behaved. 

 

 


     Image of Rockford Peaches uniform at Hall of Fame


     https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KV9Mo_b1C1s


     Footage of the Bangladesh Women winning the 2018 T20 World Cup



      May the Goddess watch over you and those you love 

      kerk

 

 

 


kerk_hiraeth: Me and Unidoggy Edinburgh Pride 2015 (Default)
 

   TITLE: 900 Days

   AUTHOR: kerk hiraeth

   FANDOM: Buffy the Vampire Slayer ( *verse );

   CHARACTER(s): Willow Rosenberg; Silja Rönnensbarn (OC);

   'SHIP(s): Willow/OC (Silja);

   LENGTH: 899;

   RATING: NC-17;

   A/N: This is written for the halfamoon.dreamwidth.org/392164.html prompt #1 Under the Light of the Moon, and is set in a previously unexplored buffyverse, which is a close cousin to the world in which I set It's Easy to be Noble (When You're Not) in Constantinople kerk-hiraeth.dreamwidth.org/3891.html . Silja is a presence in that, though she does not appear, and the Willow in this is literary kin to the one in that story.

          They are in the Philippines having met just after Willow split with a previous lover, and two days after the anniversary of Tara's death in Seeing Red. They have never; at least not directly, spoken about Tara and, though Silja knows who she was, has never heard Willow speak Tara's name in her presence. Silja comes from the Swedish-speaking areas of Finland; thinks of herself as Finnish, though Swedish is her first language. 

         There are references to the BtVS Season Five episode, Listening to Fear, as well as some specific inspirations from a Philippines lesbian series called Lulu https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0sFpvAMe1NI . 

         The Emily Dickinson poems between them started the train of thought that, eventually, led to this story. 


 

     Willow moaned as Silja reached for her lips.

 

   “Dos iz onvarfn,” she complained as the unlit fag was sent flying into the moonlit South China Sea night.

 

   About the only word she recognised in her lover's offensive response was the Finnish for Yiddish, she thought; only having started learning that less than a month previous, not that her grasp of Swedish was improving tremendously.

   Apart from a few very important phrases.

 

   “No fair, “ Willow bid fair to point out to Silja as her complaint was cut off, “I'm still trying to learn Swed...

 

   Instead of pointing out the deliberate... mistake, Silja hisspered into her ear; in synch with the two fingers, into her mouth, that had so recently made her cum.

   “Babae ko yan, “ which Willow recognised as a sentiment, even if she didn't know the words.

 

   Shit, Rosenberg! You can recognise Indigo Girls lyrics in a dozen dead languages, but...

   Distracted by the task of cleaning the fingers she put aside phantom grievances and let herself lean back into her lover's chest as they reached their free hand over to stroke the boob they could reach.

   Stubbornly enjoying the discomfort Silja must be in she closed her eyes and let herself enjoy what she was doing.

   Task completed she allowed herself a surly grunt as tik-silja raised herself up onto an elbow and whispered, “That's three she owes me.

 

   Wishing mightily the full moon; heavenly and Heavenly, was not making her so horny; Willow suddenly turned tables on her equally horny lover and, after a significant pause as they stared into each other's eyes, began teasing Silja's collarbone.

   “Long way short of that record, my tik-silja.

 

   Silja snarled back, “Devorah's.. or hers.” Then screech-laughed as Willow took revenge at the name of the woman she'd broken up with; they'd broken up with each other truthfully, roiling a nipple between her teeth, before they headed down between her legs for what was not destined to be a gentle session under the light of a beautiful filipino moon.

   Gleefully she gave in to the fuck she'd been after.

 

     ~ 
 

 

   Finally able to enjoy a fag unmolested Willow lay back on the sand enjoying the satisfaction of Silja getting some control over her breathing again.

   Seeing something cross the face of the glistening moon above she suddenly took in the star formations and. almost out of nowhere, one of the phrases she had been practicing escaped, albeit imperfect, her lips.

 

   “Vad? “ Silja managed to gasp, before Willow tossed her cigarette away and raised her arm pointing at one of the constellations visible on the night of a full moon.

   She couldn't see all of them, and they weren't the same ones, but the memories they evoked did not care.

 

   “Den stora ananasen.

 

   “Den... Va... What?

 

   Willow switched arms and, as she lay her arm over Willow's torso, Silja followed the line of that arm. She had no great knowledge of her own night sky; let alone this one over the moonlit South China Sea, but she found the constellation being pointed out.

   Sensing something important was happening she stayed silent, and kissed Willow's shoulder as she felt a choked off sob behind their breathing as they whispered.

 

   “The big pineapple. She said the actual constellations made no sense, so... She made up her own. “ Then their gazes followed Willow's pointer to another set of visible stars. “Húdié... Butterfly. I made up some of my own and; when we came back from seeing that at an Asian Film Festival in Frisco, saw that in the sky.

   I mean, they're not the same stars. Not really, but they kind of remind me of them.

 

   Resting her head against Willow's belly, Silja could feel the emotions that were being released after so long.

 

   “Suuremmat ja pienemmät yksisilmäiset viksut. “ Clarifying; giving her love's belly a kiss. “The greater and lesser one-eyed vixens.


   Stroking Silja's short, and very Marie Fredriksson looking hair, Willow began humming the only bit of a Roxette song she could recall. It was expanded upon, with added finger drums, as Silja used her cheeks as an inpromptu soundbox, humming into Willow's belly; around, and along with what with they were remembering. 

   After a few more minutes where they could only hear the waves; birds and a distant prop plane... and each other's breathing, Willow lifted herself up slightly, and they held hands.

   Both hands.

   Willow gripped tighter as she found some well of inner streng... no peace, and spoke softly; almost as of she were speaking to some distant, ghostly, memory.

 

   “Nine. Hundred. Days, “ turning her head to look Silja directly in the eyes, in a way she never had before. We've been together nine hundred days.

 

   Silja tried, but did not succeed in choking off her own sob as Willow whispered, “We've broken that record. “ Then they kissed Silja deeply, and more passionately than ever before.

   Adding, after they broke the kiss, “Vi har slagit det rekordat, my tik-silja.

 

   Niohundra dagar.

 

 

 

     An Hour is a Sea 
     Between a few, and me ~ 
     With them, would harbor be ~ 
        (Emily Dickinson, c.1864) 

     I gazed - as at a stranger ~ 
     The Lady in the Town 
     Doth think no incivility 
     To lift her glass - upon ~ 
        (Emily Dickinson, c.1862; from poem #629) 
    

      Tara and Willow


    May the Goddess watch over you and those you love, 

    kerk hiraeth 

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