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thewhiterabbit42 · 6 years ago

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The Other Side

Pairings: AU!Gabriel x AU!Reader

Summary: Survival wasn’t all there was to life in the apocalypse, and you were lucky enough to understand this.

Word Count: 5628

Tags/Warnings: smut, oral sex, vaginal sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, edging, friends with benefits, sleeping with the enemy, secret / forbidden affair

Written for: Anon - kiss request - tripping over objects / furniture and @spnkinkbingo

Square Filled: Biting

You hated using the tunnels. They always felt cold, unnaturally so, and smelled the way you imagined a tomb would: damp, earthy, filled with stagnant air and the ever present possibility of entrapment. It wasn’t that you were claustrophobic, so much as you really disliked the idea of being put beneath the ground. Especially alone.

They were the only way to get in and out of the colony unnoticed, however, and discretion was key. Mostly because Bobby might blow a gasket if he knew just how often you left on your own, not to mention the aneurysm he'd get when he found out the reason behind it.

Thankfully, the passageway you needed was short, and before you knew it, a fresh breeze was once again nipping at your cheeks. The barest whisper of something trickled across your senses as your feet guided you down the path, causing the cool night air to fill your lungs at a faster rate.

Your pulse lost its steady rhythm, and you stopped dead in your tracks. Your head tilted slightly, your instincts kicking into overdrive, but your hand never drew the blade on which it rested. You were far from alarmed, even as the rustle of wings sounded directly behind you.

“You know, if I was one of my brothers, you’d be dead right now…”

“You know, if I was anyone else, you’d spend the rest of your morning in the principal's office for misuse of emergency exits.”

The early morning sun blinded you, making it impossible to see the figure waiting for you just outside the tunnel doors. Exhaustion clung to your mind, preventing the familiar voice from registering. You whirled, unsheathing your blade, your muscles readying to strike.

Recognition override your adrenaline at the sight of your best friend’s face.

“Jesus, Wes!” You clutched the weapon to your chest, as if that would calm the frantic beating of your heart. “That’s a good way to get yourself stabbed.”

“Is that anyway to greet someone bearing gifts?” He asked, immediately holding up an old, faded travel mug. You pursed your lips, tucking away your blade as you tried to even out your breathing. You were relieved he was the one catching you sneaking back in over the fact he’d prepared a peace offering.

Your eyes flicked down, curiosity brimming. “I suppose it would be awfully ungrateful not to accept.” Wryness lifted both your tone and the corner of your mouth as you took the mug from his hands.

“If I were you, I’d drink up. Bobby’s been waiting for you since dawn.”

Shit. You’d forgotten you’d asked to meet with him.

You glanced over to find an odd look on your friend’s face.

“What?” You resisted the urge to glance down the front of you and make sure nothing was compromised. You continued to hold his stare, noticing there was something different about it, something you were too tired to tease out.

There was more to Gabriel’s presence tonight. More tension, perhaps. More energy. Or maybe there was just more of him. It carried over into his touch, that something extra feeling awfully possessive as he grabbed you by the waist.

“Since I know you’re not stupid, I can only assume you either have something terribly wrong with your sense of self-preservation, or maybe, just maybe, you somehow knew it was me...”

It wasn’t quite suspicion that colored his tone, but you also wouldn’t call it concern. What was concerning to you, however, was how guarded he was. It was as if something was brewing inside him, something that was strong enough to churn everything he kept buried up toward the surface.

“I’m having a torrid love affair with my mortal enemy…which do you think it is?” You said dryly, hoping some humor might help diffuse whatever was going on.

“Hmmmm.” He sounded less than convinced, but as his hands slipped beneath your jacket, his focus shifted. Fingertips teased tiny circles along your skin, sending small sparks of excitement through your system.

You held your breath, concentrating on him and only him; the feel of his touch, the heat of his chest on your back, the way he smelled of different air and clean rain, suggesting he had come from someplace much further away. He was your escape, and you wanted nothing more than to become lost in him.

You felt yourself slipping away as he traced the tip of his nose down behind your ear, his breath unfurling warmly against the shell of it.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” he ordered. You were tempted to make a remark, but that little extra edge to him had you doing what you were told. He placed something small and square on top of your tongue, and it only took a moment for a delectable combination of sugar and cocoa to soar across your taste buds.

“Oh —”

“— God, this - is this…” You stared at Wesley, wide-eyed. “Where the hell did you find whiskey?” The look you pinned him with really said who did you have to kill for this?

“Thought you’d like that,” he grinned, patting you on the shoulder before passing you. You stared at his back a few seconds, your brain unable to comprehend the magnitude of his gift. It took a few moments to recover, and you were thankful he was in front of you as you awkwardly shuffled to catch up.

Your moan was as decadent as the long lost flavor spreading inside your mouth.

“... you like that?” He murmured, nuzzling along the side of your neck as he allowed you time to savor the surprise.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had real chocolate. Candy, sweets, anything without real nutritional value was overlooked once the fighting began. Then, once everyone realized this was really the end, treats became so uncommon they surpassed the value of gold and silver. In some places, they had become the only valuable piece of currency.

Now they were as rare as toilet paper, and you couldn’t believe the things people were willing to do for a chocolate bar.

“What would you do for one?” Insinuation danced through his tone, and you finally turned around to greet him properly. What you saw, however, had you stilling.

Gabriel’s eyes glimmered in a kaleidoscope of sentiments and colors. Greens and golds vied for dominance against a backdrop of heat. He was beautiful. Breathtaking. Perhaps one of the few truly magnificent things left in this world.

And for whatever reason, he found you deserving of his time.

“I can’t - this is too much,” you insisted, holding the cup back up to him. “I don’t deserve this.”

Wes might have been your closest friend, but things like this went beyond bestie status. If anything, you should have been procuring him impossible items for looking out for you.

Especially when he had to know whatever you were doing outside the colony was at least seven shades of questionable if not outright forbidden.

He glanced sideways at you, and your brows pulled together beneath his scrutiny. You still weren’t able to get a pulse on him, which was strange. Normally, you could both tell where each others’ heads were at.

“Oh, don’t worry, there are strings attached,” he informed you. “You’d think if we took anything from the military, it’s that the whole don’t ask, don’t tell method doesn’t really work worth shit.”

You footsteps froze, your entire system lurching to a stop with them. “Wesley…”

You didn’t want to lie to him. You weren’t certain you could after all you’d been through together, but most of all, you didn’t want him to share the burden of your secrets.

As if sensing the weight behind things, his hands shot up in surrender. “You don’t have to tell me. In fact, the less I know right now, the better.”

It wasn’t hard to read between the lines. He was catching flak about you. Then again, when wasn’t he?

“You just need to promise me you’ll come back.” He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly. The contact combined with a stare that was far more direct than usual had you floundering.

Unsure of what to do with his concern, you went straight to your family's specialty.

“If bribery of this caliber doesn’t convince me to, nothing will.” You slipped your arm through his, tugging him away from the main path and diverting your course toward a secluded hill that ran along the edge of the colony.

You never knew how to handle these moments. It was never easy seeing Gabriel for what he was. It only reminded you how completely different you were.

He was infinite, whereas you were nothing, an insignificant speck on the cosmic timeline that would eventually fade away. You never felt worthy, even if it only came down to him needing a body with which to find pleasure.

His eyes suddenly narrowed, and your forehead wrinkled down the center. It wasn’t until you blinked that you realized what the problem was. A drop of moisture slipped past the confines of your lashes, slowly trickling down your cheek.

You didn’t understand how he could move you to such emotions so quickly when you spent most of your days struggling just to feel. It was just another bewildering piece to the enigma that was Gabriel.

“What have I told you about that?” He chided, a juxtaposition of hard and soft forming between his disapproving look and the gentle way he brushed away the streak with his knuckles.

“What have I told you about going AWOL?” Bobby scolded, not bothering to turn around from his place at the edge of the overlook. You moved next to him, taking a large swallow from your mug as you avoided the cantankerous side-eye he sent you.

No wonder Wes had opted to wait for you at the bottom of the hill. There was more bear than man present this morning.

You knew better than to jump straight into anything when Bobby was like this, and you took some time to admire the view of the colony. Everything seemed ordinary on the surface. People ambled through the center, going about their business. The previous bustle had slowed, and the bodies weaving in and out of the structures took on an ambling, weighted shuffle.

His stare eventually settled on you, lips pulling thin with appraisal. “You look like this is the last place you need to be.”

“I’m fine.” It was an automatic answer, a mistake, one you didn’t realize until his gaze intensified. “I didn’t get much sleep.”

You knew it was better to give him something rather than stonewall him, and you hoped the amendment was enough to appease him.

“We have everything we need for it and then some: beds, linens, walls, protection… and yet it always seems to be one of the things shortest in supply.” He paused, his eyes scanning the grounds some more before he continued. “You still haven’t said where you were.”

You burst through the door to the supply shed, wincing as a thunderous crack echoed through the valley. It was the third time this year you’d damaged something. Bobby was going to be so pissed.

“Gabri-mmph,” his lips smothered yours, cutting off your protest.

Shhh you heard his voice in your mind. You want to alert the whole neighborhood we’re out here?

His mouth released yours, allowing you a brief reprieve for your burning lungs. An infuriating smile pressing against your skin as he teased his way down along your collarbone. His hands fisted the sides of your shirt, and you wished you’d remembered to fix the zipper on your jacket. The last thing you needed was to have to explain why you were traipsing around at the end of winter missing vital layers. Again.

“Fuck you,” you breathed, your fingers weaving through his long, wavy strands of hair. When he lunged for your throat, hungrily devouring your skin with teeth and tongue, you tugged in an attempt to keep him focused.

An amused, albeit dark, chuckle rumbled in the back of his throat. “That’s the plan, sweets.”

He captured your lips again, reigning in his ardor as he nudged you back through the small building. You stumbled over piles of wood, scrap metal, broken pieces of furniture that might yet still serve a purpose, and you had to cling to him just to remain upright.

Your luck eventually ran out, and your foot finally hit something that refused to give, sending you tumbling backwards so quickly even he wasn’t able to stop it. Pain flared along your spine, and once your surprise wore off you realized you’d fallen against an old bookcase.

It was as good a spot as any. Gabriel shrugged out of his jacket before running his hands beneath yours and pushing it over your shoulders. You let it drop to the ground, eyes riveted as he tugged his shirt over his head. His skin looked flawless in the moonlight filtering in through the windows, your gaze trailing up his lean, defined frame to the tousled, tawny locks hanging down around his face.

Perfection you thought, and the air left the room in a sudden rush.

“I needed some air,” It wasn’t a total lie. It just wasn’t the only thing you had needed.

Strike two Bobby’s face said as he gave you a long look.

“Different air?” He asked skeptically. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, doing your best to ignore the way he stared. You knew he didn’t have a clue about anything, or else he’d be confronting you.

“I just…” You fumbled for a better explanation, one that didn’t cross the careful lines you were trying to maintain between keeping him in the dark and outright lying to him. The latter didn’t sit well with you, but you had nothing else to offer him this morning.

Except maybe some of your whiskey, and there was no way that was happening.

“... needed some air,” you repeated, taking another sip and finally glancing up at him. You aimed for neutrality, hoping you could suppress how guarded you really were.

“One of these days, kid, you’re going to tell me what that means,” he said, finally letting the issue drop.

“One of these days, we’re finding a bed,” you insisted, your hands gripping the sides of the bookcase as you all but prayed the thing didn’t collapse on you.

Gabriel had ravaged the thing, sending pieces shattering in every direction in his haste before hoisting you up on the highest shelf left, ensuring he had a place to ravish you. The setup was far from sturdy, the entire frame creaking and wiggling with every movement. You did your best to stay still as he buried his head between your thighs, whereas he tried his damndest to get you to writhe as much as possible.

“God, you’re such an ass,” you moaned, your feet digging into his back to keep your hips from rocking into his face. You wished you could have the same effect on him, that you could make him dance to whatever tune you created, from fast-paced to slow to everything in between. Yet, it was always him playing your body while you simply went along with whatever symphony he orchestrated.

You wished you could tell him now. You wished Bobby could understand that you left the walls of the camp because there wasn’t enough inside of them anymore. Only he wouldn’t.

His first reaction would be to make sure you weren’t bewitched. Once convinced your mind had not been compromised, he’d move on to coercion, insisting there must be something the angel was holding over you. It would take him some time for his denial to wear off, but once it did, then he’d think you were a silly little girl in way over her head.

Or a complete dumbass.

You weren’t sure which would be worse.

“So… I can only imagine what you want to talk about,” he began. “We got angel attacks getting closer by the day. Outposts being discovered and overrun. They’ve fractured our communication lines with the outermost colonies. There’s that damn flu making its rounds, the fact that our last four supply runs came up all but empty, and I’m sure if we looked hard enough, we could even find a spy or two…”

In other words, you better not be there to waste his time.

“Subtle,” you remarked. “And while I understand you, and the others, have very important things to worry about, I would hope the happiness of your people would be among them.”

His eyes swung to you, hard and measured. This wasn’t the first time you’d picked this battle, and he wasn’t any more thrilled to be doing it than you were.

“Hate to say it, but it’s the apocalypse. Nobody’s supposed to be happy.”

You knew you were walking a fine line. You understood his priorities. He and the other leaders had an overwhelming burden to shoulder, but sometimes they lost sight of the things that went beyond crises and survival.

“Should I quote you on that?”

You could practically feel the burn of his stare searing through the side of your head.

“We’re doing the best we can with what we have.” End of discussion.

You hated when he tried to shut you down, like you were still some naive child with no idea what life was like beyond the walls.

“Are we?” You demanded. At best, the place was a refugee camp, rather than the rebuilding of civilization they claimed. Everything about it screamed temporary. Many of the structures remained open. Only the sick, injured, and most vulnerable were afforded four walls and a roof. The rest of you made do with improvised lean-tos and tied down canvas, and even you had to admit to feeling a little salty that some of your supplies saw better quarters than the rest of you.

You made do because you had to. Because three figureheads was enough to keep a pulse on the entire place, but not nearly enough to keep ushering people forward. Even with your help, with Wes’ and a handful of others, the tide had grown stagnant over the last several months. People were drowning, and nothing good ever came from feeling like one’s head was trapped beneath the water while the surface drifted further and further away.

The only reason you weren’t losing your mind was because you had an archangel that had no problem helping you misplace it.

Fuck, he was so good at this. That tongue of his knew just how to move, just how much pressure to use, just what pace to set to get you to unravel. His fingers moved within you, and they, too, knew exactly when to curl and hit that sweet spot. You’d never known any man to pay this much attention to what you liked, and you wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that he wasn’t one.

He tried to draw it out for you, bringing you right to the brink before easing you back again. It was amazing and agonizing all at once.

“Gabriel,” you pleaded, hands raking through his hair, nails scraping across his scalp as another wave of pleasure rolled through you. You rocked yourself forward, ignoring the precarious groaning of the wood, unable to see past anything but an increasingly blinding need for him to pull that final stitch and let you come undone.

“Sing for me my little songbird,” he murmured, his voice deep and husky with arousal.

“Can’t,” you panted. It was risky enough just being there with him. You didn’t need some half-cocked night patrol bursting in because the archangel needed his ego stroked.

Refusing him was clearly a challenge, his fingertips stroking your g-spot with more vigor. Your head dropped back against the wall, a half-strangled moan catching in your throat.

“Gabriel—“” your argument cut short with a whine as he all but stopped, his touch slow, feather-light -- maddening -- and you watched as your release slipped away once again.

“You will sing,” he insisted, his face breaking away from your sex to nibble tantalizingly along your inner thigh. “Even if it takes me all night to convince you to…”

“I have all day to talk,” you reminded Bobby. “Do you?”

You glanced back down at the activity below, taking another long pull from your mug. You let the liquid roll around in your mouth, savoring the taste, allowing him time to decide how he wanted this to play out.

“If you got a point, then make it.”

You nodded, but said nothing, eyes riveted to the instructional building where all the kids spent their days learning useful things. Trades. Survival skills. Tactical strategies. How to properly handle an angel blade.

“Listen,” he rounded, patience reaching its limit in the steady flush creeping up his neck. “We got five graves that need to be dug this morning, so I suggest --”

You held up a finger to him, cutting him off. “Just a moment.”

A few seconds later, a set of doors swung open and everyone between the ages of six and sixteen came filing out. Gaunt faces peered out from beneath worn and weathered layers, bodies shuffling obediently to the area a handful of adults were shepherding them. This was their time to take a break from their studies, to be children, and yet, nothing about their movements suggested they were.

There were no bursts of laughter, no lighthearted giggles or shouts, no excitement to be free from such menial tasks. There wasn’t an ounce of playfulness within the group, only solemnity and silence that was mirrored by the adults overseeing them.

“What do you see down there?” You questioned.

Bobby was many things, but he wasn’t an idiot.

“Point made,” he conceded. “Some days it’s like half of them already think they’re dead.”

“Can you blame them?” You made a wide sweeping gesture to the entire grounds. Everything had a purpose, a function, just like everyone in the colony had a role. Some days it felt like you were all just cogs in one big machine that did nothing but demand you keep running regardless of all the death and discomfort.

“It may not be paradise, but it’s the best we can do.”

“Is it?” You pressed, unwilling to let the same cliche arguments drive the conversation. “They need a way to let off steam. Some form of entertainment, an escape, something.”

“I’ll get right on putting in a jungle gym after I bury our dead and explain to their children why their parents died from something a few Tylenol could have fixed.” Sarcasm bled heavily into his words, and you could tell you were losing him. “You want to help these people? Find us some medical supplies. Build us a clinic that doesn’t kill as many people as it helps because we can’t sanitize it properly. Guarantee us one god damn supply run that doesn’t end with somebody not coming home!”

He had a valid point, but it only strengthened your argument that much more.

“I’m not saying we ignore those things. What I’m suggesting is we don’t overlook them. Lift the sanctions on what people can bring back,” you insisted. “Simple things like books, magazines, porn.”

Actual liquor so you didn’t have to drink things that tasted like they were one bad batch away from blinding you.

Stars overlaid your vision, though it wasn’t quite how you anticipated. The bookshelf emitted a final, dying groan before giving beneath your weight. Gabriel lunged forward, pinning you to the frame with such speed that your head slammed unceremoniously back against it.

“Shit,” he muttered, fingers hastily tapping the side of your head. “Don’t check out on me yet, sweetheart.”

The ache in your skull immediately faded, and he waited for you to lock your legs around his waist before shifting your weight entirely onto him.

“Can we do things my way for once?” You asked as he moved you both away from the new pile of kindling.

He made a non-committal noise, turning to assess what other options were available for you both to get back to business.

“You know, where we don’t break anything, myself included?”

“Ha, ha, chuckles.” Sarcasm dripped from his words, though gold was more heated than anything when it pinned you beneath a look. “I have yet to hear any complaints.”

That’s because you knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Unless…” He prompted, almost daring you to say something to contrary.

“No complaints,” you confirmed, stepping down to the floor. “Though it would be nice if you let me lead for a change.”

He was always the one calling the shots. For once, you wanted to be the one in charge.

Your hands smoothed up his chest before nudging him backward, and his brow shot up in a clashing combination of warning and curiosity. He allowed you to guide him toward the center of the room until something pushed into the back of his thighs. You reached behind him, ripping a sheet off an old, worn desk before playfully shoving him on top of it.

“Permission to climb aboard the Gabriel Express?”

He rolled his eyes so hard he must have pulled something, but there was no mistaking the twitch of his lips or the way some of the darkness receded from his stare.

“Do you actually have anything important to discuss, or are we planning to ride the unicorn and sparkles train straight into the station?” Bobby demanded after you went another heated round with each other.

The knuckles around your mug turned white, and you realized no amount of good whiskey was going to let you keep your cool with him today.

It was like talking to a brick wall. Nothing you said made a difference, but you forged ahead, unwilling to let it drop this time. The more you debated, the more you realized the only common ground between you was the sheer stubbornness you both possessed. Any minute now, a bell was going to go off and you were going to be ushered into your separate corners.

That, or one of you was simply going to murder the other one.

“What's the point of living if all we're going to do is survive?!” You shouted, your control dissolving as your words echoed across the valley.

One day you were going to make him lose control, but tonight was not that night.

He wouldn’t, or couldn’t, give it up, his hand tight in your hair, baring your throat when he wanted it, dragging your mouth back to him on a whim, keeping your lips locked tight until you thought you might suffocate beneath his hunger.

He let you set the pace, but the way he sat stock still beneath you resonated as more of a power move. Be careful what you wish for, sweets, that smirk of his whispered as he made you do all the work.

You took it as a challenge, doing everything you could to make him regret that decision, whether it was rising up and taking him in at a painfully slow rate or bringing him close to the edge before backing off the same as he had with you.

Bit by bit, he started splintering, the need beneath his hands increasing as he tried to undo you. You focused on the burning ache of your muscles, refusing to allow him to drag you over the edge yet. A flush spread through the length of you, sweat breaking out across your skin. Whose resolve would give first, you wondered?

Your face filled with color, less from your outburst and more from the way Bobby looked on the verge of shattering.

“Is that how you feel?” The quiet uncertainty beneath his words didn’t suit him. He was the one with the unapologetic loud mouth. He was the one filled with anger and bite. You were supposed to be the one that took the edge off things.

“Bobby --”

“Don’t Bobby me, young lady. You tell it to me straight.” His face was all stern lines and gravity, and you suddenly felt like the time you’d gotten caught beneath the gym bleachers, not only with some boy but the wrong one.

“No,” you told him. “I don’t because it’s enough that I have people who take care of me.”

You never knew how often Gabriel had your back. When you came, screaming his name and clenching so hard on his cock even he couldn’t hold back a cry, someone should have come running.

No one did.

You weren’t in any state of mind to question why, but, unbeknownst to you, he’d undone just enough of the grounds’ warding before you arrived so he could soundproof the building. He’d never admit to it, and if you ever did ask, he’d simply pass it off to unusually accommodating acoustics.

Had you known, it would have made losing your standoff a little less grating. Your pride was used to it, though, and begging him to fuck you when your legs began to tremble wasn’t really anything new.

He stilled, hands moving behind your thighs to help you ride out your pleasure exactly the way you wanted. When you were done, they moved up your backside, helping himself to a generous handful of your curves. He rolled his hips into you, giving slow, lazy thrusts that buried him in you to the hilt.

“You should see your face when you come,” he rasped, mouth ravenous along your neck. That extra something within his presence returned, removing the chill from the air and causing it to swelter.

You couldn't imagine the view was as nearly as magical as he made it sound, but who were you to argue with someone that much older than you?

“So make me again,” you challenged, emboldened by whatever was causing his energy to spill out so palpably. Your teeth sank into his lip, drawing it away from his mouth in a wholly uncharacteristic and ungentle way.

He grunted, fingertips digging into your waist before he started pounding away at you in earnest.

And make you come again, he did. With one leg over his shoulder, then both, and lastly on your back when your legs could barely move, hitting so hard and deep that every thrust was followed by your sharp cries of satisfaction.

When it was finally his turn, his eyes flashed bright with flames of gold, a gutteral noise tearing through him so fiercely the vibrations carried over onto your body. You yelped as teeth unexpectedly sank into your shoulder so hard you were surprised when there wasn’t any blood.

“Fuck,” he growled, collapsing, the weight of his body trapping you against the desk.

Instead of leaving right away, he lingered, leaving himself buried inside of you as your breaths began to slow. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep, only that it didn’t take long. He never stayed more than a handful of minutes after, and you were glad not to be conscious of it. Every time left, you felt empty, physically and ways that ran so deep you didn’t want to think about them.

You awoke a handful of hours later to ray of light spilling in through the dusty windows. You were already dressed and covered in a dusty quilt that could have been tucked away in some obscure box, though you knew it hadn’t, and you might have questioned whether the night had really happened if he hadn’t left a few gifts behind for you to remember it by.

“But other people aren’t as lucky, and some people just need more.” You paused, watching two individuals square up against each other over what amounted to a shoulder brush. “Some people need to get laid or take matters into their own hands.”

Bobby made a face. “Not much standing in the way of that.”

You fixed him with a look that said there’s plenty.

“Books. Magazines. Porn,” you repeated. “Start there, and I guarantee you'll see a difference.”

Shouts rose up from below, and you knew it was only a matter of time before fists started flying. You frowned, knowing you both should get down there before the two idiots broke each others’ noses again.

“You’d think they’d just learn their lesson and steer clear of each other,” he sighed, as tired of their antics as you were.

You smirked. “Maybe they would if they had some Playboys.”

He winced. “For the love of anything good left in this world, can we please stop talking about porn?!”

You stepped back, attempting to hide your mirth as you took one last sip from your cup. You turned to head down the path, but before you could, he grabbed you by the arm.

“You’d tell me if you ever felt that way, right?” Blue eyes pinned you beneath the look, the one reserved to scare the shit out of anyone dumb enough to mess with you, and these rare moments in which he needed you to believe he actually could see through you so you wouldn't lie.

You slipped your hand into your pocket, an ache flaring across your shoulder as fingers came in contact with something. The lining to your jacket muffled the sound of the crinkling wrapper as your thumb skimmed over the nearly whole chocolate bar, pausing to worry over the small indent where a piece was missing. It brought a smile to your face as much as the bruise and warm whiskey in your belly.

“Don’t worry, dad,” you assured him. “I’ll be just fine.”

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twistednuns · 5 years ago

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February 2020

I managed to use my iPad as a second monitor for my computer. So tech savvy. Yay me!

Joking about developing a sex-based cardio programme with Manu. Powerfucking! Might help against aggression as well.

A late night phone call with Tom. Not saying much.

Making a huge pot of my grandmother’s signature veggie stew.

More Bon Appétit test kitchen videos. Chris recreating tacos. Claire making Ben&Jerry’s. Priya making her mum’s Indian curries.

Writing a letter to Lena. Drawing upside down bats (which makes them look like they’re having a wicked dance-off). Just the act of writing. I thoroughly enjoy looking at my handwriting.

Using the Salted Coconut handscrub by Lush. Especially now that I wash my hands so often when we’re working with clay at school. I feel like the peeling triggers some pressure points on my palms.

That Saturday productivity high. Cooking and preparing heaps of stuff, cleaning the windows, doing laundry.

Painting my nails like an expressionist artist.

Some portrait studies. Accidentally drawing Sirius Black.

Being really motivated to improve my Spanish. Working with Lorena, the Duolingo app and even starting my own grammar/vocabulary book.

This ultra quirky ASMR video. Also: watching videos with Erin an her boyfriend Chris. It’s amazing how well they work together. How you can almost feel their connection, how similar they are.

Carrot cake oats.

Seeing the The Darkness live again, this time with Margit. Justin’s outfit and personality, singing along, especially to Time of my Life, the band’s traditional first song after the show.

Meeting Chris. Having a Bramblette cocktail at Pusser’s. I like that place. Feels very old-timey with a rowing boat right under the ceiling. We made out in front of a tiger slide in a toy store window on our way to the next bar.

Peeling fresh carrots.

Pickling onions and making kimchi. My fermentation game is strong these days!

Looking through Dominik’s sketchbook. I loved the tree whose bark resembled a mole burrow with its underground tunnel system.

The flu. Yes, really. Fewer pupils at school. Quiet times. I’m actually surprisingly healthy. I’d guess my probiotics must play a role here… Who knows.

More sourdough experiments. Writing about it (DELICACY - a haiku. Oven-warm sourdough / salted butter, alpine cheese / and a strawberry).

Finding a really interesting list of SanFran hippie era book recommendations at the end of Robin Sloan’s Ajax Penumbra: 1969. In the mood to read Maya Angelou, Tom Wolfe, Jack Kerouac, Richard Brautigan.

Even more beautiful books: I really enjoyed Die weiße Stadt by Karolina Ramqvist, a feminist author from Sweden, and the graphic novel version of To Kill a Mockingbird. But two books that literally (well, figuratively obviously) blew my mind were Circe by Madeline Miller (mythology, loneliness, animals and plants, magic and monsters, some desperate kind of feminism, independence and strength) and Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (magical realms, university setting, psychological depth, unexpected twists and turns). I haven’t read anything comparable in a very long time and I desperately hope that there’s more to come from these authors.

A beach collecting all the world’s single socks in The Magicians. Oh and of course seeing them break the moon. What a sight. The show is super confusing, obnoxious and absolutely fabulous at the same time. Best example: the Freaky Friday szene in which Margo and Eliot switch bodies. I love how the actors took on each other’s speech patterns and behaviour.

A new addition to my colour vocabular: celadon (a greyish green; there is a type of ceramics you’ll only see in this colour which is not surprising since the shade provides such an interesting contrast to the the earthy, rusty orange of burnt clay.)

Manu telling me that he had rarely seen people with more joy in their eyes than me (“Ich habe schon Freude in deinen Augen gesehen! So ein Leuchten kann man nicht simulieren.”) after complaining about being bored and lifeless. / Making curry with or, well, for him the other night. Drinking Liqueur 43 with cinnamon and milk. Playing the Jackbox party games for which you can use your phone as a controller.

Finding myself in a well-known sitation from the past. Lying in Frank’s bed in the early morning hours, not that tired yet, when he starts talking about his life and his depression. In English, obviously, because that’s our emotional filter. Relating, since I feel quite similar. Coming up with a suggestion for a reciprocal support system. Let’s see what we can do for each other.

Looking at travel photographs. The sea, the cenotes. Longing to go back to Mexico or Australia. Diving. Taking it all in.

Dreaming of my grandmother talking about her biggest regrets in life. Weirdly she was in a little bundle under a coffee table, much like Voldemort in the last Harry Potter movie.

My weird, weird brain. How both pleasure and pain enhance my sense of smell and increase my brain activity, almost causing hallucinations and fixations on ideas. Like geometric shapes in gloomy off-colours and a beige silicon-like surface the other night. All I could think of was a benchscraper.

Blue eyeliner.

Brainstorming three-letter-words with Frank since I’m thinking of getting personalised Nike Blazers. Sad cat. Yes but. Dat ass. Why tho.

Flying squirrels. Watching them wobble through the air. How they look like cute exhibitionist when they’re extending their limbs and thus stretching their, well, let’s just call it wings.

The fact that red cabbage has an intricate pattern like brain convolutions when you cut it open.

Talking to Sonja for the first time in over two years. What a strange person. Interesting, too. At least in homeopathic doses.

Ripe strawberries and nectarines. Oh my god. I love fruit.

Meeting Eve at Pub Quiz. She identifies as female, loves swing dance, used to be an animator and I love her style. Also, I realised that really like Betty. And Dennis wasn’t mean to me for once. I love my nerd friends <3 And I learned that Starbucks was named after the first mate in Moby Dick! Also, coincidentally they asked a question about the city where To Kill a Mockingbird takes place (Maycombe, Alabama) after I had read it the week before.

Inviting Lorena to the Botanical Gardens. I always feel very happy and very much myself when I’m there. I sometimes wish I was a gardener. Lorena was late so I walked along the Spring Path outside and it might have been the first time I’ve seen a brussels sprouts plant. Inside I learned lots of Spanish words and marveled at the incredible butterflies. The huge yellow one right behind the entrance was my favourite. Its delicate feelers were fascinating.

Washing my hands at the Keg’s bathroom. Looking into the mirror. Suddenly thinking of the perfect karaoke song… Rescue Me by Bell Book and Candle! I kept singing it for days on repeat. My neighbour must hate me (nothing new here) especially since my voice is too low for the chorus.

It isn’t hard to see how such attachment patterns can undermine mental health. Both anxious and avoidant coping have been linked to a heightened risk of anxiety, depression, loneliness, eating and conduct disorders, alcohol dependence, substance abuse and hostility. The way to treat these problems, say attachment theorists, is in and through a new relationship. On this view, the good therapist becomes a temporary attachment figure, assuming the functions of a nurturing mother, repairing lost trust, restoring security, and instilling two of the key skills engendered by a normal childhood: the regulation of emotions and a healthy intimacy. // An interesting article on attachment styles and why theraphy works; it makes me want to learn more about attachment theory. This School of Life video is a nice addition as well.

That dream. About a book shop modeled after my picture of Penumbra’s 24-hour bookstore. There was an old man in a very narrow but high-ceilinged room full of books. There was no light source except for moonlight or some street lights. There were loads of stairs, very steep, leading to the back of the house. Upstairs the man would set out cat food and on the rooftop there was an old sailing boat. One day the man decided to open the door to the roof and let visitors see the ship, much like a museum; perhaps to attract customers. However, in the next night a cat-shaped ghost appeared who reminded me quite a lot of Kot Behemoth character in Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita. The ghost was not amused about the old man’s decision and took away his key, a big golden one adorned with a red ribbon.

Toasted sesame makes pretty much every dish so much better.

Watching High Fidelity with gorgeous Zoe Kravitz (I adore her effortless style and her outfits), getting in the mood for making a playlist and listening to more music in general. There are all these great songs out there I forgot about.

Remembering the xkcd storm chaser comics.

Making a wicked good batch of Pho for Tom.

Spending a nice evening with Alex at Shamrock. Singing along to American Boy by Estelle. Confirming the hypothesis that the nerdy, quiet ones usually have a freak streak. That moment in the morning. Eye contact and kegel exercises.

Karaoke with Margit and Betty. Meeting Manu’s doppelganger. Same type, looks, voice. Eerie.

Making a BA Gourmet Makes meme for Steffen after he had passed his law examps. Strangely Gaby kinda looked like him after I was done with it.

Saturday morning in bed. Reading comics and graphic novels. Fresh bedclothes, surrounded by books. Since it was February 29 I thought about leap years and asked a few friends what their inner seven-year-old would have done that day (based on the thought experiment that your birthday was on February 29 and you’d age in 4-year-steps which would divide your age by 4 obviously).

I came up with: visiting grandma / eating Cini-Minis / falling asleep with my face buried in a cat / beating my neighbour Anna at Memory / drawing while listening to a Bibi Blocksberg cassette.

Alex said he’d have been outside all day, building a snow igloo. Not noticing his mum telling him to come to dinner. If the weather had been bad he would have played with his dinosaur collection. His inner 7-year-old was a hopeless dreamer who got agitated whenever his parents had a fight. Who came home late from school every day because he forgot about time when he was talking to his friend next to a hedge with thorns that looked like tiny airplanes.

Lena said she would have been outside all day long, playing in the mud with the neighbours’ kids. Of course.

#things i love #present perfect #personal #february 2020 #february #2020

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spectrumscribe · 8 years ago

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a crow’s murder, a jay’s party, and a magpie’s parliament.

@guide-to-the-galaxy presenting my late birthday present to you: a harrowing adventure with our three favorite kids set in the amazing AU you gifted to me on my birthday.

please enjoy some ghostly misadventures and somewhat mushy romance, the most important factors to a story. <3

((for those not in the know: this is a Mystery Gang AU featuring capritello and paranormal shenanigans. human AU obviously, minor gore and spooky moments, and the races for each of the kids are as follows: April is black, Donnie is blasian, and Casey is native.))

April doesn’t wear makeup often. It’s expensive and tricky to use. Usually she has no patience for it and all the fuss it takes to wear it; particularly that when she chooses to show her boys some affection, it leaves evidence and people always Talk when two teenage boys have the same color left on their cheeks and there’s only one girl to be seen.

April is sensible and to the point and doesn’t enjoy nosy, judging assholes making assumptions of her and her two companions. It makes her reach for her bat, and there are unfortunately few situations where that’s the correct response.

But, on the rare occasion, makeup is acceptable. She’s found, as she, Donnie, and Casey have faced stranger and more dangerous creatures on their journey crosscountry- having some battle paint on her face makes the experience less terrifying, more thrilling.

Bloody red on her lips is the go to, and April always applies it with care. It stands pleasantly stark against her dark skin and yellow sweaters, and she enjoys the tacky feeling it leaves on her skin as they go to face whatever monster or ghoul they’ve stumbled across tonight. It feels like a challenge, and April does indeed mean it that way to whoever and whatever they encounter.

Of course. This means she tends to get in over her head, more often than not.

Thank god she’s never flying solo.

...usually.

-///-

April rolls her shoulders, testing for a twinge to indicate something out of place or possibly broken. All she gets is uncomfortable muscle aches, and she knows she’ll be feeling that for the next few weeks at least.

Small price to pay, honestly, for falling through the floor of an abandoned mine shaft.

April counts to ten with her eyes closed, swallowing her brief fear, and then opens them again into darkness. There’s no sound around her except for her own breathing, and never has April ever wanted so dearly to her the voices of her boys.

So. She’s fallen down deeper into a haunted mine, she has no idea where she is, and hasn’t been able to find her god damn bat anywhere so far. Or the flashlight and radio that fell out of her hands during her fall, for all the good the malfunctioning radio might have done.

Rumor from the small town this mine is near is that the spirits haunting it are malevolent. A family gave them firsthand accounts of their son being dragged by an unseen force, towards the hollow mouth of the tunnels. He’d gotten away, but there’d been dark bruises shaped like hand prints around his ankles.

There really isn’t any dispute that there’s a hostile spirit here, what with tens of other accounts like that scattered through the community and stretching back whole generations. April blows out a harsh breath and mutters about that being, “-just the icing on top of the cake, great.”

She and her boyfriends need to stop splitting up to cover more ground. April isn’t sure how many more times they’ll get out of things like this unscathed.

She fumbles around a bit more, cursing whenever her fingers and knuckles scrape on stone rubble. April nearly shouts in triumph when she finally feels the plastic of a flashlight handle, and turns it on immediately.

She’s blinded for a long few seconds, blinking as her eyes adjust. Then, April grins as she spots the handle of her bat sticking out of the rubble, just on the other side of the mound. It only takes some shoving and kicking of heavy stone to get it free, and finally April is armed again with her blessed bat.

Definitely one of their more worthwhile afternoon’s, negotiating a retired and grumpy priest into doing a ceremony for an aluminum bat’s holy blessing. It’s seen them through ghouls and goblins alike. The question now is if it’ll work on malevolent spirits of wronged miners.

No signs of her radio, and the tunnel above April is far out of reach; the one she stands in with smooth sides and a too short mound of stone to jump from. April isn’t going to get anywhere, hanging out here and waiting for rescue.

So she slings her bat across her shoulders, aims her flashlight forwards, and starts walking in the direction she hopes is outwards.

-///-

April met Donnie because they lived close to one another, and as a result attended the same school.

Donnie had been the lankiest boy of all their class, tall as weed grass and growing just as fast. He’d had too-big glasses set on his face, magnifying cinnamon red eyes, and his hair hadn’t seem to know if it wanted to be smooth or wiry, sometimes being both in the same spots.

He’d worn hand-me-down shirts too short for his torso, jeans that always showed his ankles, and had a perpetual curious glint to his eyes. April had been drawn to him because underneath the sensibility and scientific deductions, Donnie had an impulsive streak a mile wide for ventures most would deem severely ill-advisable. Like April did, despite her pigtails and yellow dresses and friendly politeness.

And he talked back, really talked back, to anyone who talked down at him. April had been the sort to just stomp someone’s toes when they did that to her, and Donnie’s cutting remarks and pointed quips had made her laugh until her sides hurt.

He and his brothers. They really did end up as a second family to her, in all their chaos and familial bickering. Donnie had just been the one April got especially close with in the end, being the charming string-bean he was.

Especially after the night she said “I want to hold a seance to contact my dead mother I don’t even remember.” and he’d said “Okay.” without missing a beat.

-///-

April meets a dead end in the tunnel, after walking forever in increasingly tight and rough hallways, and realizes with a sinking sensation she’s gone the wrong way.

It figures with her luck she’d wander straight into the heart of the tragedy. The place a miscounted crew of miners- forgotten by a careless boss during clearance- were blown to bits and then buried in a dynamite blast.

April wonders if she should put her and her boys’ curiosity for the dangerous adventures in life to bed for a few weeks, and see if they can hunt again for Fresno Nightcrawlers instead of malevolent spirits.

Upside to the situation: April hasn’t talked directly to the spirits or invited contact. There’s a chance she’ll get out of this place unnoticed and-

April’s flashlight flickers rapidly, despite being brand new from the hardware store in town.

“Oh don’t you fucking dare,” April accuses her light source, and swears violently as it goes out. She smacks the butt of it against her thigh, praying its a fluke and the batteries will kick back in any second.

The flashlight refuses to come back to life and April is caught between being pissed off and instinctively terrified of being in pitch black darkness.

April finds the wall, pushing down her panic by grounding herself in the sightless void she’s trapped in. Count off the tools you have at your disposal, she reminds herself. Bat. Wits. Determination. Fight or flight instincts. Broken ass flashlight.

April wishes she could count Donnie’s calm directions and Casey’s bolstering bluster over the radio, which she doesn’t have, and probably would have been out of range from anyways.

She wishes she could reach out and grab their hands, in this moment. Lanky and nimble fingers of two people she never expected to be as embarrassingly smitten with as she is.

But they’re not here right now, so. Buck up, O’Neil. Shrinking violet never suited you.

April sets her bat down between her legs, holding it there with her knees while she unscrews the flashlight’s parts. Maybe if she fusses with the batteries they’ll come back to life and she won’t be stuck in the dark of a creepy, dangerous, extremely haunted tunnel system-

-and it’s suddenly much easier to see what she’s doing with the flashlight. Probably because there’s something faintly glowing somewhere behind her.

April freezes, the same time as the air around her does.

The glow gets brighter, and every hair on her body stands straight up.

“Son of a bitch,” April mutters, and glances over her shoulder.

She’s expecting it, but the translucent apparition- apparitions- still make a scream bubble in her throat. The miners, all in varying states of physical deterioration, have surrounded her from behind. Parts of their bodies are missing- arms and legs, gone- some skulls crushed and others missing completely- burnt or broken limbs reaching towards April and gaping mouths open still in everlasting screams of agony.

April screams back at them, and drops her useless flashlight.

She comes back up swinging, intent to at least stun the one closest to her.

Her bat goes right through the ghost miner’s face.

April stares in horror at her failed weapon- the very first time it’s ever done so- and realizes how utterly fucked she is.

“I want my damn money back,” April spits, and she ducks a clawing hand.

-///-

April met Casey while standing over a grave, which likely set the tone for their relationship following.

He’d been ragged around the edges, dressed in a suit baggy in all the wrong spots and looking like his world had fallen apart from underneath him. Black hair in a tight braid down his neck, and warm brown eyes surrounded by even warmer brown skin; he’d been someone who looked like they used to brim with life, but now had lost the spark that made them so alive.

And he’d look at April and Donnie, knee deep in the process of digging up someone’s remains, and he’d asked what they were doing in a graveyard with shovels and a freshly dug hole.

When she’d answered, “We’re looking for ghosts, because there’s one haunting the deli a few blocks that way, and it’s origin is coming directly from the coffin sitting about six feet below our feet,” and Donnie had chimed in, “Give or take a few inches,” Casey’s eyebrows had gone up a few inches, and a sliver of the life April suspected him to have returned to his eyes.

“That’s pretty metal,” He’d said instead of calling them crazy, and April had the prevalent notion that this was someone they were going to get along with just fine.

He told them later why he’d been in the graveyard, that his mom had died, confessing so between ghostly encounters and getting to know each other’s quirks, and he’d said it in such a quiet and vulnerable voice April hadn’t been able to stop her hands from cupping his cheeks, or her lips finding a place on his.

Funny how her boyfriend had watched with interest instead of jealousy, and Donnie’s hand had ended up tangled with Casey’s not long after; long fingers tracing each other’s knuckles and holding tight in the privacy of narrow alleyways and darkened rooms.

Adrenaline inducing adventures did wonders to speed up a budding relationship.

-///-

April’s knees impact the stone floor, grinding sharp edges of rough ground into her jeans and skin, and she’s up faster than the pain can register.

Why the blessing on her bat aren’t working- April is going to have words with that priest- is a untimely mystery for her current situation. She should be able to give a good smack to anything that has evil intent-

-unless the beings currently chasing her aren’t evil and in fact are just tormented souls of unfortunate men and god damn April wishes she’d remembered the fine print of things before traipsing into a nest of restless spirits.

April isn’t sure how she’s staying ahead of he translucent men. She isn’t going to question too deeply the logistics of a human outrunning a mob of ghosts.

Somethings snags the ends of her braids, and April yelps as it tugs hard on her hair. Her feet slip as she’s pulled backwards.

She falls.

April’s skull impacts the stone and flittering sparks fill her vision. The unnatural glow that barely lights the tunnel swims around her as the spirits do, guttural sounds and distant watery voices filling the rapidly thinning air.

A man missing half his face looms over her, giving April an up close view of his destroyed features. A hollow where his eye socket and left ear should have been, showing burnt and dripping viscera inside his skull.

He makes a sound displaced from where it should come from, and dives down at her.

April’s vision whites out as she screams.

-///-

She’s lying with her wife, young and beautiful and carrying their child. It’s only a few more months, and her stomach’s bump is signal that soon they’ll need more space, more food, more income...

“Be safe,” She says, gently cupping April’s cheek and giving a pleading look. “I know those tunnels aren’t as safe as people pretend they are.”

“Of course I’ll be,” April replies, cupping the hand on her cheek and smiling into it. “You know I always am.”

Someone snorts outside April’s range of vision, a deeper sound than any woman usually makes. “Uh huh, sure O’Neil. Like you were careful runnin’ headfirst at a crow monster when it got it’s claws in me.”

April blinks, and the young woman beside her melts into a man, dark skinned with wild short hair. Donnie looks back at her, still pleading, and Casey’s arm wraps around them both from behind April’s back.

“You’ll watch my back,” April finds herself repeating, from hours ago when they were just considering entering the mines. This already happened.

Donnie rolls his eyes, and moves close enough to brush his lips over hers. “Obviously. That’s possibly the only constant we have.”

April feels his lips on hers, feels Casey’s against her neck, and knows this isn’t where she should be, warm and lulling as it is.

She feels the presence that doesn’t belong, swimming and swelling all around this precious moment that belongs only to April and her boys.

She closes her eyes to Donnie, pushes bother her boys away, and delves into the pool of strength in her core.

This isn’t real. You don’t belong here. Get OUT of my head, THIS DOESN’T BELONG TO YOU.

My life didn’t belong to them, counters the spirit in her, and April feels again the love and agony and loss that this miner had- losing his wife and child and future all in one horrible mistake- and her will wavers.

But. She’s dealt with possession before.

Eat shit, she tells the miner, and draws on the fire inside her. The scene around her blurs, her boys still tucked close to her, but steadily disintegrating as she forcibly burns out the invasion of her mind.

WAIT! he begs, and something slides across her vision just as April burns up the last of the scene and the combined memory of their loved ones.

Something dark, something horrifying. Something that’s been keeping all these miners trapped here for decades and been making them pay for the social crucifixion it’d suffered after it’s mistakes in life.

Something corrupted. Something evil.

Something April can hit.

April drops out of the dream, the vision of a warped and demonic spirit chasing her as she does.

-///-

“Is this really going to work?” Donnie had asked, whisper quiet and said without looking either of them in the eye. “Can we really. Really be us?”

Curled together in the back of a van, newly bought and newly broken in, in all the important ways- April knew Donnie was revealing something he would probably only ever reveal this once.

She’d pressed closer, putting her nose to his hair and saying, “We’re planning on going cross country to hunt things no one really believes in, after dealing with some of those things just in our neighborhood multiple times. I think there’s plenty things more impossible than us managing being us.”

“What she said,” Casey had mumbled, and thrown his long limbs over both of them, reassuring in the way he knew best. Physical shows of affection and loyalty. April had grinned against Donnie’s ear, kissing it and making him squeak between her and Casey, and she’d believed they really could be.

Now, she opens her eyes to Donnie over top of her, glasses shining in the unnatural glow of the ghosts surrounding them, and April hears him and Casey both shouting at her.

April lifts a hand, clutching at the deep purple sweater she’d made Donnie start wearing. The stark relief in his expression at her responsiveness is obvious, and April manages a tight smile as her head pounds.

“Where’s my bat?” She asks the second her cottony feeling tongue will let her.

Donnie laughs hoarsely, and hauls her off the ground and against his chest. “Of course you ask where your bat is right after being possessed. Of course.”

“She’s awake?!” Casey demands, standing guard over them both. April sees him over Donnie’s shoulder, clutching her bat and giving wildly angry and terrified looks at the ghosts ringing them.

April sits up properly, leaning only somewhat on Donnie as she gets off the icy and uncomfortable ground. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just had a headmate for a moment there.” She reaches out, tugging at the black sweater Casey wears. “Gimme my bat. Sweet as it is, you don’t need to protect us from these guys. They already said everything they needed to.”

Casey makes a disbelieving sound, but like he almost always does, he trusts her. Even with a dozen some ghosts surrounding them and sticky blood on the back of April’s neck, he hands over her bat with only a beat of hesitance.

April sets it’s wide end on the ground, subtly leaning on it for support. She clears her throat as her boyfriends come to stand at her side, and she speaks clearly as she’s able to post-possession. “Attention gentlemen,” April says with straight shoulders, even though her head aches fiercely. “We’re paranormal hunters, and we’re here to free you from your haunting.”

“We are?” Casey asks in a mumble, and Donnie shushes him. April continues, “I’ll forgive you for the trespassing and general violation of my brain, but please. Don’t do that again.” Her temples throb and April tastes something wrong in the air on her tongue. She grins with her crimson lips. “So, as Mr. Mc’Millin so kindly shared with me, there’s a certain someone who’s the real culprit of those accidents, isn’t there?” April grins wider as the circle of ghosts wail angrily.

“...care to fill us in on things?” Donnie whispers in her ear, just as a shiver goes through the air. His hands land on April’s shoulders, steadying and protective as something viscerally wrong makes itself known. Casey’s don’t, but April knows he’s probably gone back to back with Donnie as they search for the threat.

“We’ve had a change in target,” April explains, and hefts her bat as the tunnel rushes with unnatural wind. “What do you think a small town would do to someone, if they killed the fathers, husbands, brothers, and sons of a community?”

Something glows, back the way she came running from, and it’s much bigger than the faint ones of the miners. It gets brighter and brighter as it approaches, and April’s bat lights up with holy light to match it.

The inscribed biblical symbols along it’s length burn white, giving it an appropriately angelic halo. With an evil presence in range, it practically hums with energy to cleanse and destroy.

April really does love her bat.

Donnie draws his weapon as well- a modified .41 caliber Colt House Revolver with four rounds of cleansing silver bullets for ammo- and April hears the a bullet slide into the chamber with a soft click as he aims. Casey steps slightly ahead of them both, black sleeves rolled up to display his thickly inked tattoos; swirling protection wards drawn by an elder of his nation and threaded directly into his very being. Casey grins, wolfish as the single claw charm hanging from his neck; Donnie narrows his eyes at their rapidly approaching target, utterly concentrated.

April gives it a wide smile, toothy as anything and worthy of the bright red of her lips.

“Holy shit,” Casey breathes through his bared teeth, just as things rush into motion. “So. Metal.”

The malformed, rage twisted being rushes into sight; it’s mass owed to decades of building, festering hatred for the miners he’d thoughtlessly murdered in life. What’s left of the mine’s former owner is nothing short of monstrous, howls from it’s hungry, gaping mouth echoing all around them as it half flies, half lopes towards them. It’s huge, and terrifying, and everything that goes bump in the night.

April jumps forwards, and hits it in the face with a resounding clap of purity and taint colliding.

Donnie fires off one of his precious few shots soon as she’s clear, the corrupted spirit screaming as the blessed metal blasts through it’s chest, and Casey dodges in to give it a well deserved uppercut not a second later.

April winds up for another blow, and falls into the violent dance she and her boys have perfected.

-///-

April blows out around the cigarette in her mouth, white smoke clouding the air as she sits in the back of their van. Her split lip throbs as she satisfies her oral fixation, but its barely holding a candle to the goose egg on the back of her skull.

Casey’s legs hang over the edge with hers, limp as he lies backwards on their shared mattress stuffed into the van. With the back doors open as they wait for Donnie in the phone booth next to the road, April mires in the victory of their successful exorcism.

The woman who’d asked them to help in the first place, Annie Mc’Millin, descendant of the miner they’d set free, had been so thankful to them all. Few people in the town admitted aloud that there were Things in the mines, and having Annie’s local knowledge had really helped.

She’d been so glad to know her son hadn’t been hurt by her great grandfather; glad enough to cry a little. April thinks that has to be the best part of their victory.

That, and the nice blankets she’d given them. Things got cold in the van, even with three people sharing space.

April takes her cigarette out of her mouth, tapping it’s red stained length to drop ash on the ground. In the quiet evening, adrenaline long gone and just aches left behind, April feels pretty damn good for a woman who’s recently been possessed.

Casey might take a little longer to recover, seeing as he’d been nailed in the chest by a ghostly punch. He has a pretty large bruise center of his chest, and April knows he’s going to either pretend he’s perfectly fine or that he can’t lift a finger for fear of worse injury. And it will last at least two weeks, possibly a month, because hes an over dramatic idiot who takes hits for people he cares about.

April and Donnie had both called him a moron, Donnie especially loud since the hit was meant for him. Casey had grinned and said it was nothing, that his protective wards meant out of all them, it’s him that can take the most hits and still get back up afterwards.

Donnie had cuffed Casey’s ear and hugged him hard enough neither of them could breathe. April wrapped herself around them, listening to Donnie cuss Casey out for being a self-sacrificing idiot and that he should remember just because he could take the hits, didn’t mean that he should.

And Casey had laughed in a wobbly way, said “Okay, you got me there,” and pushed his face into both their chests while the smell of broiled rock and singed salt cleared from the air. It’d been a sound that made April’s chest tight with a hundred desperate emotions, and a rough sniffle come from Donnie.

April thinks they couldn’t have found a better boyfriend, standing in that graveyard in the middle of the night.

Speaking of boyfriends, April watches as Donnie goes through a series of increasingly sporadic arm gesticulations in the phone booth, and finally press his forehead up against the glass and seem to question his life choices very loudly, without ever saying a word.

“I think Donnie’s having a breakdown,” April says, tapping her cigarette again and dropping flakes on the road. She nudges Casey’s leg with her knee. “Hey, babe, wake up. Our boyfriend is having a breakdown in the phone booth.”

Casey makes an incomprehensible mutter that sounds mostly asleep, and April rolls her eyes fondly. She would otherwise let him rest, but Donnie is having a crisis of some sort. All hands on deck are required.

April leans over Casey, carefully pecking him on the lips as he groans again, and hops out of the van. Donnie sees her coming, and drops the phone to open and walk out of the booth.

“Please,” He says in a faint voice, waving at the phone as a way of saying please, my wonderful amazing girlfriend, take care of my no doubt family related disaster. He sits down on the curb, putting his hands in his short and messy hair, and April pats his head as she passes.

She takes her cigarette out of her mouth as she picks up the phone. “’ello?”

“April! Yo! What’s up, girl?”

“Mikey, good to hear from you,” April leans on the side of the booth, smiling as Mikey laughs. They’ve been out of contact the last three days, and it’s nice to hear the kid brother of her boyfriend again. “What’s happening on your end of the world?”

“Ah, same old same old. I think I might get a promotion soon, though! I’m at least 70% sure my boss is about to make me prep cook.”

“Wow, that’s great, Mikey,” April knows that there’s more to this than just promotions. Donnie wouldn’t be having a Why Me moment otherwise. “How’s everyone else?”

“Boring shit, mostly. Raph sold a few good paintings, an’ Leo’s been getting a lot of good shifts lately. I gave kitty a new toy recently, too, and she hasn’t let it go since! Catnip lives up to it’s name, ha ha. She bit Leo twice just yesterday.”

April waits after the pause, feeling something else coming.

“Oh, and Leo’s a werewolf now.”

There it is.

“Mike,” April understands now why Donnie in on the curb, being comforted by the recently resurrected Casey Jones. “could you have started with the fact that your older brother is now a lycanthrope?”

“Hm. Maybe?”

“What even happened?”

“Leo took a late shift, ran into some big ass dogs on the way home last full moon, bada bing bada boom he’s bit and now cursed. We didn’t notice until the full moon on Thursday, when he, uh. Kinda transformed and ate half the couch.”

April takes a slow breath in. She’s going to need a few more cigarettes tonight, she just knows it. “Did he bite anyone else?”

“Nah. He was like, mostly cognitive, if really doggish and confused. He’s been hiding in his room ever since and won’t come out. I think he’s embarrassed about the couch incident.”

“Or maybe concerned he’ll turn one of you, too?”

“No it’s definitely the couch thing.”

April laughs, shaking her head. Three days they leave these boys unattended, and look what happens.

Casey knocks on the booth, opening the doors, and asks, “Hey, Apes? Donnie’s mumbling about dogs and couches. What’s up?”

April flicks her used butt at Casey’s feet, which he automatically stomps out. “Leo’s a werewolf,” April informs her boyfriend, and Casey makes an Oh I see noise.

“We headed back to New York, then?”

“That’d be appreciated,” Mikey says, catching Casey’s words. April nods, and Casey ducks out of the booth, headed for the van.

“I leave them alone for three days,” Donnie exclaims, throwing his hands up at the heavens. “Three days! And one of them manages to be turned into a lycanthrope. How.”

“I think our family is just special like that, hon,” April says, lip curling as Donnie curses in three languages at once. (Japanese, English, Latin. He’s too well read to curse in just one.)

“We’re very special an’ love you guys lot’s so please come home soon?” Mikey says over the phone, and April snorts.

“Give us a few days, and don’t do anything stupid before we get back.”

“Thank youuuu.”

“And tell Leo not to worry, the cavalry's on its way.”

“I’ll inform he can stop moping around like a kicked dog, now.”

“Without the canine jokes, Mikey.”

“I make no promises.”

April laughs, tells Mikey they all love him too, and hangs up. Donnie is still sitting on the curb when she steps out beside him, looking like he is still questioning what he ever did to deserve anything.

“C’mon, honey,” April encourages, hauling Donnie up by his arm. “Let’s go bail our family out of trouble. I wanted to go home and swap my clothes out anyways.”

“Three days,” Donnie repeats, gesturing at the air in exasperation. “Amazing. Incredible. I hate my family and I sincerely question how any of us manages to function around the disasters we attract.”

“Like I said,” April says, giving him a kiss on his bruised cheek. “we’re all just special like that.”

“Mgh,” Donnie says, and kisses her back instead of complaining more. Casey, probably watching the show and feeling left out, honks the horn of the van, and spurs April and Donnie into action.

April notes that she’s gone and left faint smudges on both her boys’ cheeks and lips, hardly visible in the dimming light of the evening, and is quietly pleased for that. No one else is here to see, and she thinks she deserves this bit of indulgence after all they’ve been through lately.

April rolls down the front window as she gets comfortable in the passenger seat, pressed against Donnie’s side as he sits in the middle, and smiles to herself as Casey starts up a playful banter with their boyfriend; mostly surrounding the fact that Casey’s sibling is in high school and keeping out of trouble, and Donnie’s siblings are nothing but trouble. And although Donnie agrees, he’s defensive as always of his brothers, and off the two of them go again.

April turns up the radio, listening to the synthpop it plays as they pull out of the quiet and significantly less haunted little town. Donnie lights her another cigarette without being asked to, and Casey notches up the volume as a rock song takes the place of the synthpop.

April blows smoke that flies out the window, and keeps smiling as the miles roll by.

-///-

April had one boy, through her childhood and teens, and now she has two as a young woman with wanderlust in her heart and burning curiosity in her soul. And she loves them so much she can scarcely breathe.

Things that go bump in the night beware- April O’Neil has a bat, a blood red challenge to the world, and two lanky birds of a feather at her side.

The paranormal won’t know what hit it.

#My writing #gift fic #guide-to-the-galaxy #capritello #mystery gang AU #April O'Neil #Casey Jones #Donatello #wow this is such a good au #i will never tire of it #jo hope you had an excellent birthday #and i hope you love this gift from me <333 #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt AU #spooky halloween fics #<tag for any halloween fic i put out this month ;D

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goldenponcho · 7 years ago

Text

Battle for Neverland: Chapter 7

First chapter

The Captain admired the crystal clear reflection in the polished iron of his hook. He hadn’t slept a wink last night, and nothing but adrenaline kept him alert and awake. Come tonight, however, he would sleep as if he had been tucked in by Somnus himself.

He almost tore a hole in the cloth he had been polishing his hook with at the knock on the door, and Short Tom, who had been perched calmly on his shoulder, flapped his wings with an agitated squawk.

"Entrez!" Hook heard the door swing open.

“I realize you have this fixation on me dressed in pink frills…”

He turned to see a somewhat perturbed Riley. "Miss Blade?” He set his handkerchief aside and stood to address her.

“But if I run into another bear wearing this on our picnic today,” she fluffed the heavy ruffles of her skirt and gave a pointed look, “I’m screwed.”

His mouth twitched with the phantom of a smile, “The only wildlife we need concern ourselves with today is that blasted crocodile.”

She arched a brow, “Thanks for the reassurance?”

“She favors the sun in the morning,” he continued, settling Short Tom into his cage, “so our best course of action is to head toward the other side of the island.”

She caught his mischievous gaze too late and barely muffled a yelp as he darted out to grab her hand and twirl her to stand before him, “Or is there some other reason you might feel the need to run?”

Her eyes were wide with surprise, and she gave a nervous laugh, feeling an unwelcome flush in her cheeks. She distracted herself by turning her attention to Short Tom, who continued his shrieks of ‘Belay!’ and ‘Abandon ship!’

Hook tugged gently at the hand in his grasp as she reached fingers in with the intent to scratch Short Tom’s feathers, “Wouldn’t want to loose those, would you, my lady?”

She pulled her fingers away as Tom nipped at a knuckle, “Someone’s a bitey boy...” She risked another scratch to his cheek, and though he made for another peck, he eventually calmed enough to let her stroke his feathers for a moment, still clucking quietly.

Hook let her hand slip from his, a look of near admiration crossing his features as he watched. He released an astonished breath, “I must say, you’re braver than most when it comes to that bird.”

She shrugged, “I have a cat at home. She’s a real butthead sometimes, so I’m used to bites and scratches,” Short Tom nibbled again at a finger, and she gave a gentle tap to the beak before turning back to Hook, “Despite my terrible luck lately with wildlife, I love animals.”

With an amused smirk, he offered his arm and led her out to the deck where Cookson and Mason were readying the longboat.

"After you, Miss Blade," he supported her hand as she stepped into the boat, and she took the seat second from the back where he had indicated. He turned to Mason and whispered something that Riley strained to hear but couldn't, then with a glance about, bellowed for Smee.

"Aye, Cap'n, I'm a'comin', sir!" Smee scurried toward them from somewhere near the bow, nearly bumping into Hook as he slid to a halt.

He snarled and reached to grab Smee by the shirt, but with a glance toward Riley, he redirected his hand to Smee's shoulder and gave him a gentler light shove. The man stumbled to collapse in a seated position at the front. With an intense nod toward the remaining men on deck, he stepped in to stand at the back directly behind Riley. As soon as they hit the water, Smee began rowing.

Riley's eyes darted along the shoreline as they rowed for the mouth of the bay. She couldn't contain herself from leaning slightly over the side of the boat to get a close look around the bend. There were no signs of anything supernatural yet, but the view was as incredible as ever. Sunbeams hit the water and scattered into jewels of electric blue, and when she looked straight down, it was so clear she could see a whole world of seaweed and coral between the waves.

He hadn’t bothered taking the time to appreciate the beauty of the island himself, but Hook found joy somehow in watching her take it all in. The spark in her eyes as she spotted something of interest… He remembered long ago when he had had that same passion for discovery, and he wondered if he could have known the same appreciation for the mystic isle had circumstances been different.

“I wouldn’t get so close to the water, if I were you, Miss Blade.”

She had already righted herself to look back at a bemused Hook before she noticed she actually had been leaning over the side of the boat.

Hook tapped a gloved finger on the hilt of his sword and nodded forward, “See those rocks ahead?”

She turned to see the jagged rocks in the distance, many of which formed arches big enough for the longboat to pass through.

“Mermaid Lagoon…” he finally sat to come near eye level with her, “They’re usually about this time of day. Though, they prefer to avoid pirate vessels…particularly ones with me in them.”

Riley glanced beneath the now calm water as they went under the first stone arch. They were much nearer to shore now, but the water still went down at least a good thirty feet, where tall spires and strange reef-like structures wound in and out creating a whole underwater cave system.

“Are we talkin’ about man-eating mermaids?” she asked with a half concerned, half interested look.

“They tend to entertain themselves with much vainer matters,” Hook chuckled with a sideways glance, “But they wouldn’t think twice about drowning a pretty face.”

He noticed the color heighten in her cheeks in the moment before she turned to the bosun with a shrug, “Might wanna hide your face, Mr Smee!”

Smee shrieked, “Bejeepers! I hadn’t t’ought o’ that!” he scrambled to pull the bandana that hung around his neck up over his nose.

Hook choked on what may have been a laugh before quickly composing himself, “Don’t let go of the oars, ya dunderheaded foozler!!”

Riley laughed as Smee reached for the paddle he had dropped, but it was cut short by a sizeable wall of water, the brunt of which hit her square in the face, “Jeez!!” she sputtered and a fit of giggles alerted them to the two mermaids who lurked behind the rock they had just passed.

The Captain snarled, standing and drawing his sword in one motion, “Loathsome sirens!!”

The two mermaids shrieked, still giggling as they dove to their grotto below. Smee tried to splash back at them with a paddle. Hook stopped himself from burying the sword into the side of the longboat, instead puncturing it with his hook as he sat back down hard.

Riley removed her glasses rubbing the saltwater out of her eyes and blinking to try and ease the burn.

“Are you alright?” Hook offered her his handkerchief...for the second time within ten hours, she noted.

“Fine!” she patted her stinging eyes gingerly, fluttering her eyelids with an expression she could feel the unattractiveness of, “Just blind now.”

“Those seductresses rarely provide one with a pleasant encounter…”

She shook the now wet hair out of her face, wringing it out and blinking one last time before putting her glasses back on, “No offence, but I can’t say I expected many pleasant encounters with the locals while touring with pirates.”

“Mm…if the locals are smart, there’ll be no more encounters to speak of.”

Now armed with the knowledge that saltwater to the face was a definite possibility, she was much more cautious about looking directly into the water, especially when she caught a glimpse of fish-like movement between the rocky, coral spires.

“Run her aground on the other side of the headland, Smee,” Hook ordered, “We continue on foot from here.”

Riley craned her neck as they passed through the short tunnel in the narrow protrusion of land and gasped when she spotted several small figures disappear into the trees beyond the beach, “Oo! I saw something!”

Hook scoffed, “And here I thought you had regained your vision some time ago…”

“I mean I saw little people." 'Smartass,' she thought to add.

“Leprechauns, most likely, lass,” Smee nodded, “Run rampant in these parts.”

Hook rolled his eyes at Smee but reasoned that the man was close enough to the truth that he didn’t bother correcting him. The keel cut into the sand, and he stood as Smee jumped out to push the boat onto shore.

Riley’s eyes darted back and forth along the tree line, intent on picking up any other sign of movement, and she nearly jumped when she noticed Hook’s hand in front of her.

He chuckled, “Shall we?”

She accepted his help out of the boat, but he didn’t keep her attention for long.

“Woah! Coconut crab!”

Hook blinked as one second he was helping her out of the boat, and the next she was ten yards away squatted next to a rather large crab, backed slowly away from her. He exhaled in exasperation, again closing the distance between them.

“This guy could probably pinch my fingers off!”

Hook raised an eyebrow at the tone of admiration in her voice and shook his head, “I’m certain it could, but I was under the impression that you were interested in seeing something a tad less common than crustaceans."

"I take in the sights as they come." The crab had backed into a palm tree and begun scaling it, and Riley wobbled as she maneuvered around her skirts to stand. "But if you've got something more interesting, let's see it."

Hook steadied her, "I trust you aren't opposed to a leisurely hike?"

"I'm fine with it, but if we run into a stickerbush, I will show your dress no mercy..."

He simpered, taking her hand delicately in his, "Perhaps I shall have to carry you through the brambles should the time come."

She felt the color rise in her face as she stammered incoherently behind a self conscious titter, then cringed at her own awkwardness as he turned to lead them into the forest.

Luckily, the path they took seemed to have been traversed enough to leave little underbrush, and squeezing her sizeable attire through was no issue. When they came to an obstruction, Hook simply sliced through with either sword or hook with little effort. She kept alert for any unusual sightings, catching glimpses every so often of the twinkling light of a fairy or a rustling in the bushes accompanied by a sound that couldn’t be mistaken for a natural animal. She would stop suddenly as they came to unusual plants or mushrooms to examine them. She took a mental note to pester Hook until she got her phone back so she could get some pictures.

That was when they came to the most gorgeous waterfall Riley had ever seen in her life. The sheer cliff face rose high and water cascaded into sheets of glittering silver that projected vivid rainbows across the pool of clear water.

She came past Hook as they entered the clearing, tilting her head as far back as she could manage to take in the sight. She was barely aware of him coming to stand next to her again.

“Forget-Me-Not Falls,” he said simply with a nod.

Smee, who caught up seconds later, grasped the hilt of the crooked sword at his side, “We best not be dilly-dallyin’ around here fer too long, Cap’n. We don’t want that Forget-Me-Not pixie ta stupefy us.”

Hook gave a dismissive scoff, “Oh, let the girl wander, Smee. No vermicious fairy is a threat to us.”

~*~*~*~

Mullins wiped the sweat from his brow with a miserable groan, “What’d I tell ya about that broad bein’ bad luck, lads… If she hadn’t come along, we wouldn’t be traipsin’ around on dry land.”

“Come off it, Mullins!” Starkey rolled his eyes, “You said she was bad luck on a ship, not on land. Or is your brain so stewed that you can’t keep up with your own superstitions?”

“Just cause we’re off the ship now, don’t mean the damage ain’t already done.”

"Yer grumblin' ain't fixin' it neither, matey," Mason adjusted the heap of rope and netting slung over his shoulder, "'Sides...last I checked, the only dog who's got a problem with dry land is you." He lobbed one of the tangled masses into Mullins's stomach, "Now get ta settin' this trap! If we don't have one in each spot the Cap'n's marked fer us, he'll use 'em as our nooses."

Mullins lurched with a sickening grunt and did all he could to not vomit as he got to work.

"Eez no vorry, Mullins," Cookson took one end of the rope, "My tripe and ginger porridge make you feeling much better."

The pirate almost lost the battle with his stomach at the suggestion, but managed to keep his breakfast down, mostly due to the fact that he didn't want to taste it again.

Jukes, who was now perched in a nearby tree with a spyglass, scouted the area for any sign of outside movement. "Something's in the trees! About fifty fathoms out! Quick, shipmates, quick!!"

They could hear the rowdy yelps and cries from what was unmistakably children and finished rigging the ropes, covered the evidence with leaves and brush, then made to hide. As the yells grew closer, another sound, a guttural roar pierced through the forest, and the men tensed, attempting to flatten themselves as far into their hiding places as possible.

The footsteps of something large echoed louder and just after the Peter Pan and Wendy darted past, Jukes hardly knew a thing when his tree seemed to shatter, and he was thrown to the forest floor, narrowly avoiding the largest of the splinters that speared the earth around him.

As he fought to regain the breath that was knocked out of him, he caught the back side of a massive, rock-like creature disappear again into the trees.

"Jukes!!" Mullins sprung from his hiding place to come to the boy's side, "Talk ta me, lad! Are you alright?!"

Jukes coughed with a painful horseness but nodded, Mullins helping him to his feet.

"Foul troll..." Starkey sneered toward the place they had gone, "...let us hope he chokes on Peter Pan and every one of his wretched brats."

"No time fer bellyachin', lads! We gotta finish the job!" Mason slung the remaining rope back over his shoulder and jerked his head for them to follow.

"I just hope he didn't set off any of the other traps," Jukes rotated his arm in its socket, rubbing his shoulder, "That's all we need for Pan to figure out the Cap'n's plan before it's even hatched."

~*~*~*~

Peter cackled, "Stupid O'look!! There wasn't a chance he was gonna catch up with me!" He spiraled around a large oak and corkscrewed to fly next to Wendy.

"And you! I thought I might have to rescue you a couple of times, Wendy, but you really gave him a run for his money!"

The girl giggled with a rosy-cheeked smile, "Better watch out, Peter...you might have to keep up with ME before long!"

"Oh, will I?" Peter laughed and gave a good natured bump of his shoulder against hers, "Well, let's see who makes it there first!"

Wendy gaped with a half smile as Peter took off ahead of her, "No fair! You've got the map!!" And she disappeared into the trees behind him.

~*~*~*~

“Here will be a suitable place to take our tea,” Hook motioned for Smee to unload their goods, to which he quickly complied.

The meadow they settled in was just as picturesque as the rest of the island was, a rainbow of flora and butterflies, some of which Riley was sure had very human features, speckled the lush, green grass and a sparkling stream trickled calmly next to them.

Smee finished setting out a blanket and their spread, and before Hook could motion to help her, Riley squatted uncomfortably before letting herself fall back on her rear to sit. She thanked her lucky stars that Jukes had not yet repaired her skirt boning, which had been left in a heap in her cabin. She nibbled on her fruit and scones and sipped her tea in contentment, all the while enjoying the scenery.

Hook, however, was paying little mind to his own refreshments, and Riley noticed him scanning the area closely, as if expecting an interruption to their meal. He finally ventured a glance toward her, "I gather that you are enjoying yourself."

She nodded, "It's an upgrade from the vacation I came from, for sure..."

Just beyond the meadow, Wendy and Peter zigzagged through the trees, and as they approached, Wendy gasped, grabbing Peter's cape, "Shh! Peter look!"

Peter floated down with her as he spotted Hook seated in the meadow accompanied by Smee and the woman he had attempted to rescue the previous day.

"It's her!" he whispered beneath his breathe, "Hook still has her."

Wendy cocked her head, "She doesn't seem like a prisoner. She seems...happy..."

Peter muffled a laugh behind a palm, "Don't be silly, Wendy! Who would be happy around ol' Codfish?!"

She shot him a sideways glance, "I seem to remember one instance where a friend of yours preferred Captain Hook's company for a time..."

"And he was up to no good then, so he's certainly up to no good now! Besides, once we find the right magic dust for Tink to get her back home and out of Neverland, we can't have Hook getting in the way."

Wendy nodded, "I suppose you're right... But how are we going to get her away from Hook and Smee? You said she didn't cooperate last time."

Peter puffed out his chest with a proud grin, "Just leave that to-"

There was a loud thud, and a flock of birds erupted from the trees near the opposite end of the meadow. The two children looked at each other wide-eyed, "Oh, no..."

Riley jerked her head toward the cloud of birds that had suddenly taken to the skies with panicked squawks, and Hook twitched, grasping the hilt of his sword.

"Uuuh..." Riley glanced back at him with a look of concern.

"Stay here," he ordered her, getting to his feet, but he had barely taken two steps before a low growl rumbled through the trees.

The Captain drew his sword as the foliage ahead of them swayed and the sound of limbs snapping under massive feet crept nearer. That was when the most gargantuan creature Riley had ever laid eyes on stepped into the meadow clearing. Her mouth hung open as the rock faced thing grunted at the realization of their presence.

"More humans for O'look's dinner!" it grumbled in a gravelly, primal voice.

"Picnic's over!!" Riley got to her feet to run, and Smee retreated to a safer distance as well.

Hook stood his ground. "Come and try it, ya oversized troglodyte..." he growled, brandishing both hook and sword with a fearless glint in his blue eyes.

"Pirates no match for O'look! He be picking teeth with your tiny bones soon!" The beast made to swipe with a massive club he wielded on one gnarly hand jutting out the other clawed appendage as Hook sidestepped it and gashed the monster's wrist with the tip of his hook.

The troll roared in pain, stomping at Hook as if he were no more than an irritating rat. The Captain darted between O'look's feet, nicking an ankle with his sword as he spun around to face him from behind.

The beast grunted at the wound but caught sight of Riley pressed against a tree, and he grumbled with delight, "Maiden make most delicious meal boiled with shallots and squash!"

"Shit-shit-shit!!!" Riley ducked behind her tree and ran into the forest, followed by Smee, who was followed by O'look, who was followed by Hook.

"We've gotta help her, Peter!" Wendy shook his shoulder in a panic.

"I'm way ahead of you, Wendy!" And he took off toward the ensuing chaos.

"Fair afternoon to you, Admiral Anchovy!"

The sprinting Hook did a double take as Peter floated next to him before racing ahead to where O'look was gaining on Smee. The eternal boy laughed, "You would make a magnificent distraction if you tripped right now, bosun."

Smee shrieked, waving Johnny Corkscrew toward the brat, who continued his merriment, "But that would be playing like a pirate, and Peter Pan is NO pirate." He darted ahead to catch up with Riley, who was doing her best to push through the now dense underbrush.

“Hello again, m’lady!” he bowed midair as he swooped in front of her.

“Outta the way, kid!” she shoved a chagrined Peter aside and trudged forward through the snagging branches.

Peter grabbed for her arm, “Hey! What’s wrong with you? Can’t you see I’m trying to rescue you?”

“And I’m trying to rescue myself, but you’re in my WAY!!” She yanked her arm away, and fled for a large, sturdy tree up ahead.

Peter huffed, “Grownups!! Always so stubborn!” Riley had already begun climbing, so Peter instead switched priorities to fending off O’look. He zipped past Smee again, who was making his way to follow Riley up the thick trunk of the chestnut.

"Going somewhere, you stupid troll?!” Peter waved the map he and Wendy had purloined from the monster’s cave only moments ago.

O’look sneered, baring dagger-like teeth, “Give O’look back his property, leetle bug! Or he make stroganoff of you all!”

Peter placed the map in his belt, about to reply, when Hook slashed into O’look’s side from just behind him. The old troll howled, reaching out again with a set of claws.

Hook deflected the blow, “Why hello, Peter...” he greeted with a malevolent leer, “A fine afternoon for troll hunting, wouldn’t you agree, dear boy?”

Peter gave a courteous nod toward his mortal enemy, “So thrilled that I’ve caught you in such a fine mood today, Captain!” He sprung once more from the ground to join Hook in taking jabs at O’look with his dagger, nicking the troll just before a gigantic hand would come to swat him like a mosquito, and like a mosquito, he would evade at the last second only to repeat the action again.

Riley had finally made it to a height she felt safe at, seating herself on a branch to catch her breath and watch the ensuing fight. As she witnessed the two enemies practically tag-team O’look, she heard a strangled cry from below her and looked down to see poor Smee clinging to the trunk beneath her.

“A wee bit ‘o help ‘ere, missy?” he whimpered pitifully, and she reached down to give him a hand up to climb next to her on her branch.

Smee huffed, catching his breath as well as he removed his spectacles to wipe them with his shirt. Riley peered back to the battle before them to see that O’look was being worn down significantly by the eternal boy and the pirate captain.

She let out a light, breathless laugh, adjusting her own glasses on her nose, “Wow...they actually make a pretty good team when they’ve got something to kill besides each other.”

Smee squinted before placing his spectacles once again over his eyes, “Ehehe! Strange as it is, lass, it seems true, t’be sure.”

With a pained growl, O’look finally retreated back into the woods from whence he came, and Peter bowed low to Hook, “Truly an honor to fight alongside you, Captain Codfish.” Peter was, of course, prepared for the thrust of Hook’s sword, and they locked blades, each wrestling for the upper hand.

Riley had made her way back down the chestnut tree much more quickly than she had scaled it, and as Hook wrenched his sword away from Peter, he called to her, “Don’t move from where you stand, Miss Blade...”

She tilted her head, but halted her next step, and Peter glanced toward her, then back to Hook with a boyish grin and a chuckle. Hook gave one last swipe before Peter ran toward Riley, who timidly took a step backward.

“This is the last day you hold this lady hostage, Codfish!”

Smee had finally found his way back out of the tree, and he unsheathed Johnny Corkscrew to defend Riley from the boy, but Hook’s triumphant smirk foretold the outcome before the trap had even been sprung. Peter yelped as the ropes closed in around him, and he was hoisted above the forest floor only feet from where Riley stood. She had sprung backwards as the trap was activated, and now she looked on in bewilderment as Hook chuckled darkly, coming to admire his catch.

“Oh, dear boy!” Hook shook his head, voice mirthful with barely concealed malice, “When will your childish nobility cease to betray you?”

Riley arched an eyebrow, attempting to decode the situation, when a young girl’s cry could be heard from nearby. Wendy sprung from the bushes, reaching toward the dagger Peter had dropped, but just as she neared it, the rest of the Jolly Roger’s crew, whom Riley hadn’t even known were there, spilled in from the surrounding brush, Mason grabbing Wendy and forcing her into a rope netting similar to what Peter had been snatched from the ground in.

“Ah! Mistress Wendy,” Hook approached the struggling girl, wiping his claw on his handkerchief jauntily, “I’m honored that you’ve chosen to be present on my most immortalized of days.”

The pirates around them chuckled, brandishing swords with bloodthirsty gleams in their eyes, and Hook turned to Riley with a graceful and genuine bow, “I owe you my deepest gratitude, little lady. For had you not assisted me, this most glorious moment may not have come to pass!”

Riley looked in his direction as she passively allowed him to take her hand in his, but her eyes were unfocused as he kissed her knuckles. She turned to look at the children struggling to break free of their bonds, and Mullins slashed at the rope holding Peter in the air. The boy grunted as he landed painfully in the dirt.

“You understand, my dear, do you not?” Hook took her chin in his hand to coax her gaze toward him, “The boy is not the innocent child he appears. You see the girl, Wendy? He stole her from her home. Brought her to this dangerous place without a mother or father to care for her.”

“That’s a LIE, Captain Hoo-“ Mason clasped a hand over Wendy’s mouth, and she squealed in anger.

“You need not worry for the girl,” The Captain’s expression was strangely gentle as he explained, “But the boy must be dealt with so as not to hurt anyone again,” he held out his hooked arm in emphasis of both the boy’s crimes and his fate.

Riley glanced to the ground, shaking her head lightly. This had never been a mere outing in the woods. This whole thing had been a scheme. Not just today, but the entire time she had been aboard the Roger. He had been planning it from the beginning.

She raised her head, swallowing the lump in her throat, “I-I...I understand...” she said with a gentle nod, “You...have business with this boy, and it’s none of mine.”

Hook gave a contented look that appeared sincere, “I had greatly hoped that you would, my dear,” He was about to take her hand again when Billy Jukes emerged from the trees.

“Begin’ yer pardon, Cap’n, but them Lost Boys have already gotten wind of Peter and Wendy’s capture. They’re plannin’ retaliation within the hour!”

Hook tapped the curve of his claw, “Then let us make to intercept them. Mullins, Starkey, and Jukes will accompany me; Cookson, Smee, and Mason will remain here to guard our, ahem...charges,” he smiled adoringly down at Riley, “Miss Blade, I think it best you remain here. There is bound to be another skirmish, and it would be most ill fitting for you to be caught up in two fights in a single afternoon.”

Riley quietly cleared her throat, “Yeah...I’ll, uh...supervise,” she nodded with a nervous smile.

Hook bowed once again, then motioned to his men, “Come, dogs! Let us intercept a Lost Boy.”

Once they had disappeared into the forest, Riley took a slow breath and exhaled steadily, sitting on a knotted root of the large chestnut she had been treed in moments ago.

Mason chuckled, tapping Peter with a dusty boot, “Not so smug now, are ya, half-pint?”

“Ergh! You haven’t won yet, Alf Mason!” Peter said through gritted teeth, squirming against his bonds, "My Lost Boys know Hook’s coming, and he’ll never find them before they take care of you and set us free.”

Cookson snorted with a laugh, “Jou eas going nowhere, Peter ze Pan! Hook do away w’jou faster zan Cookson pluck dead neverbird.”

“What the hell? Did you guys hear that?”

All eyes turned to Riley, who was listening intently for something. The rest listened quietly, exchanging puzzled looks.

“Cookson hear nothing,” the sea chef replied with a furrowed brow.

“No, I’m serious listen...”

They were quiet once again, Smee nearly falling over in an attempt to reach an ear out as far as possible. Then, there was the snap of a twig in the distance.

Mason unsheathed his sword, “Must be them scurvy boys!”

“Aye,” Smee nodded, “It be them brats for sure!”

“I’ll take care of ‘em,” Mason reassured with a nod, but Riley stopped him.

“Wouldn’t it be smarter for all of you to go?” They turned to her once more, “I mean, there are a lot of them, and they really seemed like they could put up a fight yesterday...”

Mason scratched his chin, “Well somebody’s gotta keep an eye on the twerps.”

“I can keep an eye on them,” Riley said quickly with a confident look.

“You?” Mason questioned.

“Jou doesn’t have weapon,” Cookson countered.

Riley’s gaze darted around, and landed on Peter’s discarded dagger. She knelt to pic it up and raised it in suggestion.

Mason eyed her skeptically, “You sure you know how to use that thing?”

She nodded, “My dad taught me. He’s a hunter.”

The men looked to each other.

“I can call if I need you,” she assured, “I’ve got this. Don't worry!”

Mason finally conceded, “Alright, then,” he nodded, “You let us know if trouble finds ya.”

“I will. Definitely.”

And the three men were off into the woods... Riley peered after them, and as soon as they seemed to be out of earshot, she took the dagger to Peter’s ropes.

“What are you doing?” Peter startled at the blade so near his side.

“Rescuing you, duh...”

“But you said-“

“I lied!” she cut Wendy off, “Sometimes adults do that.”

Peter chuckled, “I guess not all adults are as stupid as I thought.”

Riley rolled her eyes, “Thanks...”

“You’re welcome!” Peter shook off the last bit of rope, snatching the dagger from her before she could react and cutting Wendy free.

“I’m gonna need to get outta here,” she began unlacing her bodice, “I suggest you two do the same.”

“Why are you taking off your dress,” Wendy questioned innocently.

“Because there’s no way I’ll be able to run in it,” she quickly shed her pink dress and corset leaving the petticoat, the skirt of which she tucked into the waist of her bloomers. She was about to leave before Peter tugged at her sleeve.

“Wait! We have to get you out of here!”

“That’s what I’m-“

“No, I mean out of Neverland!” he explained, “You have to go back home!”

“You can get me there?” She raised an eyebrow.

Peter and Wendy looked at each other. "We’re...sort of working on that...” Wendy said, “We need a special kind of dust...found in only a certain place.”

“And we have the map to find it!” Peter held up the scrap of parchment.

“Then spill the directions! I need to get home before my friends declare me dead!”

“It’s not that simple...” Wendy shook her head, “See...the location moves.”

“Moves?”

Peter grabbed the hands of both girls and tugged, “Come on! We need to get outta here before the pirates get back! We can explain on the way!”

They retreated into the woods in the opposite direction from where the pirates had gone.

~*~*~*~

Hook had searched the forest but found no trace of a Lost Boy. Perhaps it was best to head back. They would be prepared to face the boys when the time came, and they would certainly be no match for him and his men without Peter to lead them. Without there leader, they were nothing more than lost little children.

Just as he was about to give the order for his men to head back for the others, he halted. He motioned for his men to keep quiet as he drew back his sword.

As the bushes in front of them began to shake, he almost lashed out before Smee’s fuzzy face appeared in front of them with a delighted “Cap’n!”

Hook narrowed his eyes, mouth agape, “Smee?! What the devil are you doing here?!”

Mason And Cookson appeared behind him as the bosun stuttered to explain their plight. As Smee wove his nearly incoherent tale excitedly, Hook’s eyes focused in angered realization, “You left Peter and Wendy alone?!”

Smee shook his head heatedly, “Oh, no no, Cap’n, sir! We certainly wasn’t foolish enough to do some’n like that! No no! We left ‘em wit the lassy!”

“Aye, Cap’n,” Mason affirmed, “She said she would call if she had any trouble.”

Hook boiled for a moment, before lifting Mason from his feet, “You dunderheaded zounderkite!! Do you expect to hear a call of distress this far out?!!”

He tossed the man to the ground, dragging his cape over him as he passed, “Move, ya worthless mongrels! If those brats have escaped, I’ll have Cookson stew every one of your livers and then his own!” Cookson gulped before following their irate Captain.

Hook’s breath came in heavy heaves as he neared the chestnut tree where his prize catch had been left. His men stumbled to keep up with the all but rampaging man, and all of them held their own breaths as they came within sight of the tree.

Hook snarled when he saw the two tattered and very empty rope nets, his eyes darting over the scene for any sign of his enemy. And that was when he saw it. Riley’s discarded dress in a heap on the dirt ground. Hook’s face contorted into a scowl as his mind pieced together what had happened. His whole body shuddered like a tremor before a volcanic eruption, and he unloosed a roar of absolute fury.

~*~*~*~

Riley trudged through the woods alone, having agreed to meet Peter that night in a secluded area after he had found the dust they needed to send her back. She had suggested she go with them now, but despite her rescue, Peter still didn’t trust her enough to reveal where their Underground House was to her, and they had decided to part ways until they were prepared to send her home.

She fumed as she finally had the time to dwell on what had happened. He had used her. Pretended to be her friend only to make her bait. She flushed with embarrassment at how stupid she had been to trust him. She had even started to like him. What an idiot she had been!

That was when she heard the cry of rage, and she froze, distinctly recognized it as Hook’s.

“Fffffudge!!” She sped up her pace, anger turning to fear as she heard him coming all too close behind her. She searched feverishly for a place to hide, at last finding a large tree trunk to duck behind.

“Find her, scugs!! Or I’ll set anchor in ya!!”

Riley heard the men scatter, pressing close to the tree as they each disappeared into their own wing of the forest. Hook’s heavy footsteps, however, grew closer, and Riley held a hand over her mouth to silence her breathing.

“Riiileyyy...” he purred, the noticeable edge to his calm voice giving away his anger, “I know what you’ve done, young lady... Come out! And I swear upon my dearly departed mother’s grave, I shan’t hurt you.”

He came to stand just on the other side of the log, and she willed her heart to stop it’s rapid beating.

“You don’t know what a glaring error you’ve made, dear girl,” he rumbled, “I don’t want to punish you. But if you don’t show yourself, I shall have to.”

His footsteps receded, and Riley shifted her position only slightly. She came to regret it sorely as a tiny squeal emitted from behind her, “Watch where you’re sitting, you clumsy oaf!!”

Her heart stopped as Hook’s footsteps did as well, and a small, curly-headed fairy fluttered to wag a finger in her face, “I didn’t come here to get stuck under your GIANT, HUMAN A-“

Riley grabbed the fairy, covering her mouth with a hand, shaking her head wildly and motioning for her to be quiet, but all she got was a surprisingly painful bite.

“Miss Blade...”

A shiver ran up her spine at the purr of her name, and she looked up to see a leering Hook crouching from the other side of the tree. She had little time to think, so she made her move without doing so. She chucked the fairy into the Captain’s face, a poof of sparkling dust blinding him and sending him into a sneezing fit as she got to her feet and ran.

She heard his displeased snarl and his footsteps as he perused her, and she pushed her legs to go as fast as physically possible. She knew she was probably faster, but she prayed that adrenaline would aid her in out-enduring him. She tore through a thicket, gritting her teeth at the scratches and forcing her significantly thinned out skirts through them only to come to a nearly shear drop into a creek. Thick brambles crowded at either side, and she was certain to be caught now if she went that way.

The shing of metal alerted her to Hook’s arrival as he made quick work of the brush she had just exited, and his bright eyes bore into her, “Ungrateful little wench!”

Riley turned an equally angered gaze toward him, “Ungrateful?! Are you KIDDING me?! You used me! And I can’t believe I fell for it!!” She backed nearer to the bank as he edged closer, “I knew you were a liar from the beginning! And somehow you still cheated my dumb ass,” she clapped her hands sarcastically in mock applause, “Greaaaat job! Hope you’re proud of yourself, but you still lost!!”

The Captain growled, “Lost because of YOU! Spiteful MINX!” He sprung forward, intent on grabbing her, and without a thought, she slid herself down the muddy bank and into the creek.

She paddled to keep her head above water. The current was strong, but not so strong she couldn’t make her way across. She could see that the other side was steep and muddy but also a shallower drop than the one she had come from. If she could make it up, her escape would be certain. She paddled until her arms burned but eventually made it across and clawed into the mud, gaining leverage to lift herself up. The mud was just the right consistency to dig divots for her hands and feet to climb up.

She was more than halfway up the slope when her ankle was grabbed in a painful grip. She looked down into the enraged face of Captain Hook, hair wild in loose, wet ringlets.

“You shouldn’t have run from me, Riley! You’ll be lucky if you get no more than three nights in the brig with naught but bread and water!!”

She thrashed her leg as forcefully as she could with out losing her grip, “Let GO of me!” she kicked wildly, then turned her scowl down to him, "You bastard! I can't believe I ever even LIKED you!!" her voice cracked as tears were now streaming down her face, and Hook's enraged expression wavered, "I cried to you about my MOTHER!! I actually thought you had CARED! But all you were doing this whole time was making me feel secure so you could USE me! Well you’ve gotten your use out of me! So STEP! OFF!!”

And she landed a powerful kick square to his chest with her free leg, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sliding back down the muddy bank. She scrambled to reach the top, and pulled herself onto the grass, hearing his cries of anger behind her.

But she stopped only a few yards from the bank when his cries turned to panicked yelps, and she could hear a hissing roar. The Croc...

She danced on her feet. She should keep going. She knew she should just keep going. But her legs wouldn't move. She couldn't. She was angry. LIVID. But she couldn't leave him to die like this. She growled in frustration, “FINE!”

Hook tried to right himself on the slippery bank, attempting to evade the monstrous creature of his most chilling of nightmares. "BACK! You ghastly leviathan! Go back to the sewage from whence ye CAME!!"

The prehistoric lizard was only all the more frenzied in her ambition to devour as she nearly snagged a kicking boot in her vice like jaws, managing to rake a gash across his calf with the largest of her piercing fangs, and he cried out in anguish and fear.

That was when he felt something relatively weighty strike his shoulder, and looked to see a sturdy vine hanging next to him. He followed the vine up the bank too see a muddy, disheveled Riley.

"Miss Blade?!!"

"JUST GRAB IT!!" she cried, shaking the vine to bump against him again, and he did so without further hesitation.

Riley tugged on the pulley she had rigged around a nearby tree, and Hook dug his heels into the muddy bank, slipping several times but finally making it to pull himself up onto the grassy knoll and away from the snapping croc.

Both collapsed only feet apart from each other, panting to inhale as much oxygen as their lungs could hold. Riley jumped when Hook jabbed his sword into the ground, using the blade as leverage to stand, and she shuffled away before assuming a defensive position on her feet.

Hook scrutinizes her with stern eyes, and they stared each other down. When his expression finally softened oh so slightly, her muscles relaxed a touch, and she opened her mouth to say something before the rest of Hook's crew emerged from the bushes, swords drawn in her direction.

She froze again, and with a glance around, raised her arms in defeat.

"Crap..."

#peter pan and the pirates #Fox's Peter Pan and the Pirates #captain hook #Captain James Hook #peter pan fanfiction #battle for neverland

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joshuamshea84 · 6 years ago

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7 Ways Holy Land Tours Will Refresh Your Faith

View of Jerusalem’s Old City in Israel

Join us on a journey of a lifetime on a Holy Land tour to refresh your faith in Jesus and the Bible!

Is deepening your understanding of an authentic Christian lifestyle by experiencing Biblical history with your own eyes one of your lifelong dreams? Is your imagination longing to see what the apostles saw, traveling through a Holy Land tour with Jesus, filled with awe and wonder as the passages you’ve studied suddenly come alive in front of you?

Experiencing God’s Word come alive in the Holy Land of Israel and the surrounding Mediterranean is a beautiful way revitalize your walk with the Lord and enhance your vision as you study the Bible with leading scholars & archaeologists! Even if you’ve been to Israel before, our assurance is that our stunning Christian cruises and life-changing Christian tours are truly once-in-a-lifetime opportunities!

Here are seven ways our one-of-a-kind Holy Land tours will refresh your Christian faith:

1. Follow the Footsteps of Jesus

Be filled with awestruck wonder as you walk where Jesus walked! Visit incredible destinations made famous by the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ ministry, including the Mount of Olives, the Sea of Galilee, the site of Jesus’ baptism by John the Baptist, Jesus’ hometown of Nazareth, the remains of the ancient city of Jericho, the Garden tomb where we believe Jesus was buried, the classic city of Jerusalem, and many more!

Journey through the biblical narrative in the remains of the Galilean towns where Jesus taught and performed his miracles. Follow the Gospel accounts with your own eyes and feet. Study the Words of Jesus on the Mount of Beatitudes, imagining yourself listening to the Messiah give His Sermon on the Mount. Make your way through the streets of Jerusalem and reflect on the sacrifice He gave in this city that changed the world. You will visit countless amazing places where Jesus walked, was baptized, hung on a cross, convicted and born.

Literally following the footsteps of Jesus was incredibly eye-opening for Shari! Here is what she experienced:

“Thank you for making this trip to Israel an enlightening experience. Not only did the trip increase my knowledge of the Bible and ancient history, it had a profound impact on my beliefs about and understanding of Christianity. Prior to the trip, my beliefs were primarily based on blind faith. However, I’ve returned with a softened heart and sharpened mind, both of which have opened the door to Christ.” – Shari D.

2. Visit Authentic Biblical Locations

We are blessed to have exclusive access to many cutting-edge discoveries and locations which further prove the inerrancy of many Biblical text accounts! Now you will have opportunities to witness intriguing locations first-hand, including the Temple of Tel-Arad, the real Mount Zion with our exclusive archaeologist guide Eli Shukron who recently discovered the Pool of Siloam, helped excavate the Temple drainage tunnels, area G of the City of David, and discovered “Temple Zero” with the standing stone where we believe Melchizedek and Abraham offered sacrifices to God. All of our locations are verified genuine and authenticated by Israel’s leading archaeologists and international Biblical scholars – not just the usual “traditional” sites created by man as a visual representation of the text.

Our Christian tours of Jordan and Israel bring life and meaning to your favorite Bible passages! Experience marvelous destinations, monuments, attractions, and natural wonders including thousands-of-years of history, culture, religions, and civilizations.

Monica was thrilled with the authentic historic locations she experienced on her journey through Israel’s Holy Land:

“It’s been about a month since I returned from Israel, so it is way past time to thank you for putting together a true trip of a lifetime! It was all and more than I expected … and I have about 500 photos to prove it. And Roman was a fantastic guide! He was a wealth of knowledge — biblical, messianic, archaeological, historical, cultural…he gave us all some new and exciting perspectives!” ~ Monica H.

3. Enjoy Unique Experiences in the Holy Land

Explore the Holy Land in a unique and hands-on way with adventures such as our Dig-for-a-Day program where we dig, sift, and examine pottery. The more adventurous among us can do some exciting exploration of unexcavated cave systems that are accessed through leather straps. Would you enjoy a helicopter ride over unique vistas, affording fantastic views of the rare crater-like landscape? We also visit Ein Gedi and the Dead Sea. How about a dip in the mud? Enjoy a nice float and coat yourself in the natural mud at the bottom of the mineral rich lake.

Christian visitors on one of our Holy Land tours will not be disappointed with the continual wellspring of extraordinary activities – both physical and spiritual all around!

youtube

4. On-Site Bible Study with Renowned Scholars

One incredible perk of traveling with Living Passages is our collective of highly qualified Bible teachers and world-renowned scholars which will provide incredible insight and scriptural teaching as you travel through the Holy Land. We guarantee our speakers will bring a fresh perspective to your existing insight of both the Old and New Testament.

Here are just a few of our exceptional guides, speakers, and teachers:

Dr. Craig A Evans is a distinguished scholar, author and speaker who has extensively studied the Gospels, Dead Sea scrolls and archaeology of the New Testament. He is a Distinguished Professor of Christian Origins at Houston Baptist University in Texas, and the author and editor of more than 70 books and hundreds of peer-reviewed articles, Professor Evans has given lectures at locations such as Cambridge, Oxford, Durham, Yale, and distinguished museums worldwide. He is a Fox News opinion contributor and also regularly lectures at popular conferences and retreats on the historical Jesus, archaeology, the Dead Sea Scrolls, and the Bible.

Eli Shukron is the chief archaeologist in the City of David and a leading expert on the archaeology of Jerusalem for the Israeli government and Israel Antiquities Authority. Shukron first discovered and directed the excavation of the Pool of Siloam, the ancient city of Bethlehem, the Jerusalem Pilgrim Road from the Second Temple Period, and numerous other historical artifacts which continuously prove the inerrancy of the Bible.

Dr. Adolfo Roitman is the curator of the Shrine of the Book at the Israel Museum, which houses the remarkable Dead Sea Scroll collection in Jerusalem, one of the world’s leading archaeological museums. Dr. Roitman is a senior lecturer at the Schechter Institute of Jewish Studies in Jerusalem, Dr. Roitman lectures widely on early Jewish literature, the history and significance of the Dead Sea Scrolls and biblical interpretation.

Dr. Frank Turek is a dynamic speaker and award-winning author & coauthor of many books, including: Stealing from God: Why Atheists Need God to Make Their Case. As the President of CrossExamined.org, Frank presents powerful and entertaining evidence for Christianity at churches, high schools and at secular college campuses that often begin hostile to his message.

5. Christian Fellowship on a Holy Land Adventure

You will share inspiring fellowship along your journey with other Christian believers. Many of our travelers who meet along their adventure become life-long friends after their Holy Land tour ends. You may choose to visit Bethany, where we end our day at the quiet and reflective Garden Tomb to share communion together. Review the fantastic testimonials of our past travelers and join the ranks of our seasoned Biblical adventurers!

As with all of our tours and cruises, the unparalleled spiritual gathering of fellow Christian believers who travel and study together, will make this an unforgettable life-changing and faith-shaping adventure.

“I also want to thank you for the prayer time we had together. That was very special for me and I have no doubt God heard our prayers. I enjoyed this tour so much, that I’d like to do it again sometime, maybe in the Spring season. Our group enjoyed each others’ company so much that we are having a reunion party coming up on Monday the 21st!” ~ Janet

6. Luxurious Holy Land Accommodations

Along your adventure, stop and relax in Israel’s most prestigious beach-side hotels with spectacular views. Every detail is carefully considered when making your stay as memorable as possible. The hotels are pristine and modern, clean and beautifully appointed. Your experience has been designed in impressive detail, with every item carefully selected to provide maximum pampering and comfort, fulfilling the needs and desires of all guests. Look for spas, indoor and outdoor swimming pools, saunas, fitness rooms, and massages. Enjoy rich regional gourmet food in each location.

“I travel frequently – but this tour was the adventure of a lifetime! Everything was first class: the hotels, the ship, the food, the guides and the teaching!” ~ Anonymous

7. Exclusively Designed and Operated

Don’t take an ordinary Holy Land tour or cruise! Living Passages luxury Christian cruises and inspirational biblical tours are intended to educate and uplift as you uncover and explore the history of the Bible first-hand. Our Holy Land tours are expertly planned, down to the finest detail. With over 20 years of experience, owner and founder Rhonda Sand arranges exclusive tours and elite excursions that are not typically offered on ordinary Israel tours. A Living Passages representative will travel with your group to quickly handle any issues, should they arise.

Be Spiritually Refreshed on an Adventure of a Lifetime in the Holy Land of Israel!

Is this your season to be spiritually refreshed! Will you join us on one of our in-depth Christian Israel tours?

There is sure to be the perfect tour that will will leave you feeling invigorated in your faith. Join others in fulfilling the dream of walking where Jesus walked. Bring life and meaning to your favorite passages by experiencing first-hand historic Bible locations as you journey through Israel’s Holy Land. Take a look at all our available tours and cruises!

Join us on the Christian trip of a lifetime today! Please call us for more information at 1-888-771-8717 or write us at [email protected].

The post 7 Ways Holy Land Tours Will Refresh Your Faith appeared first on Living Passages.

source https://livingpassages.com/7-ways-holy-land-tour-will-refresh-faith/ from Living Passages https://livingpassages.blogspot.com/2019/03/7-ways-holy-land-tours-will-refresh.html

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marymperezga · 6 years ago

Text

7 Ways Holy Land Tours Will Refresh Your Faith

View of Jerusalem’s Old City in Israel

Join us on a journey of a lifetime on a Holy Land tour to refresh your faith in Jesus and the Bible!

Here are seven ways our one-of-a-kind Holy Land tours will refresh your Christian faith:

1. Follow the Footsteps of Jesus

Literally following the footsteps of Jesus was incredibly eye-opening for Shari! Here is what she experienced:

2. Visit Authentic Biblical Locations

Monica was thrilled with the authentic historic locations she experienced on her journey through Israel’s Holy Land:

3. Enjoy Unique Experiences in the Holy Land

Christian visitors on one of our Holy Land tours will not be disappointed with the continual wellspring of extraordinary activities – both physical and spiritual all around!

youtube

4. On-Site Bible Study with Renowned Scholars

Here are just a few of our exceptional guides, speakers, and teachers:

5. Christian Fellowship on a Holy Land Adventure

6. Luxurious Holy Land Accommodations

“I travel frequently – but this tour was the adventure of a lifetime! Everything was first class: the hotels, the ship, the food, the guides and the teaching!” ~ Anonymous

7. Exclusively Designed and Operated

Be Spiritually Refreshed on an Adventure of a Lifetime in the Holy Land of Israel!

Is this your season to be spiritually refreshed! Will you join us on one of our in-depth Christian Israel tours?

Join us on the Christian trip of a lifetime today! Please call us for more information at 1-888-771-8717 or write us at [email protected].

The post 7 Ways Holy Land Tours Will Refresh Your Faith appeared first on Living Passages.

from Living Passages https://livingpassages.com/7-ways-holy-land-tour-will-refresh-faith/ from Living Passages https://livingpassages.tumblr.com/post/183774630140

0 notes

livingpassages · 6 years ago

Text

7 Ways Holy Land Tours Will Refresh Your Faith

View of Jerusalem’s Old City in Israel

Join us on a journey of a lifetime on a Holy Land tour to refresh your faith in Jesus and the Bible!

Here are seven ways our one-of-a-kind Holy Land tours will refresh your Christian faith:

1. Follow the Footsteps of Jesus

Literally following the footsteps of Jesus was incredibly eye-opening for Shari! Here is what she experienced:

2. Visit Authentic Biblical Locations

Monica was thrilled with the authentic historic locations she experienced on her journey through Israel’s Holy Land:

3. Enjoy Unique Experiences in the Holy Land

Christian visitors on one of our Holy Land tours will not be disappointed with the continual wellspring of extraordinary activities – both physical and spiritual all around!

youtube

4. On-Site Bible Study with Renowned Scholars

Here are just a few of our exceptional guides, speakers, and teachers:

5. Christian Fellowship on a Holy Land Adventure

6. Luxurious Holy Land Accommodations

“I travel frequently – but this tour was the adventure of a lifetime! Everything was first class: the hotels, the ship, the food, the guides and the teaching!” ~ Anonymous

7. Exclusively Designed and Operated

Be Spiritually Refreshed on an Adventure of a Lifetime in the Holy Land of Israel!

Is this your season to be spiritually refreshed! Will you join us on one of our in-depth Christian Israel tours?

Join us on the Christian trip of a lifetime today! Please call us for more information at 1-888-771-8717 or write us at [email protected].

The post 7 Ways Holy Land Tours Will Refresh Your Faith appeared first on Living Passages.

from Living Passages https://livingpassages.com/7-ways-holy-land-tour-will-refresh-faith/

0 notes