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angloie · 3 years ago

Note

Hey! I would love a one shot about Percy protecting Annabeth from danger. Some sweet fluff and lots of 'I love yous' to follow. Thanks!

Annabeth Chase is afraid of many things. She's afraid of spiders, failure, and sometimes her own self; but she can't deny the unshakeable feeling of protection when she's with Percy. Though skillful and apt, Annabeth somehow finds herself in trouble— but this time is different. This time, she's vulnerable.

genre: angst to fluff <3

warnings: mentions of blood + swearing, ooc percy :’)

[ ♡ ] — thanks for the request! sorry for the wait— i hope this was what you were asking for! :)

Annabeth prefers to think that she’s a smart person.

I mean, you know— she’s designed Olympus. Hell, Annabeth has saved Olympus, and coincidentally, the whole world too. She’s fought Kronos’s army, got stabbed, and won; so you’d think that too.

And of course her fellow campers think that too. They come up to her with bright smiles asking to teach them how to use a dagger, asking to teach them sparring, asking to teach them anything you can think of.

But of course, Annabeth is only human. Demigod— but whatever. She has her limits.

And so does Percy.

“Hey,” She comes up to knock on his cabin door one restless night, “You there, seaweed brain?”

Annabeth can hear shuffling inside, and then a: “Annabeth?”

“Yeah,” She hums, “It’s me.”

His voice is tired. A little rough, a little worn out, a little exhausted. Yeah, no wonder; Percy’s been busy with teaching some of the younger kids in his free time, and using the rest of that time to train.

He opens the door revealing his tired self: a black shirt, sweatpants, and dark circles forming under his eyes. Yet, Percy gives a huff.

And maybe that’s it. A tiny part of Annabeth think’s he’s going to let her in. A part of her thinks he’s going to close the door; apologize, wish a good night, and close the door on her.

He doesn’t.

Though begrudingly, Percy opens the door wider. It might just be Annabeth being over-analytical, but she can’t help but notice his hesitancy.

Does he want me to leave? She thinks, I mean I can, but- I don’t... I don’t really have another place to stay-

“Can’t sleep?” He questions with a yawn, “It’s pretty late.”

“Mhm. It’s funny. I’ve been tired all day, but I can’t seem to fall asleep now.”

Annabeth trails after him through the room, heading for his bed. Clothing articles are strewn over parts of the floor. The small salt water fountain in the corner of the room has a few golden drachma on the ledges, and old candy wrappers sit atop his nightstand.

Percy must be really tired, because the cabin is usually decently clean. Or at least he tries to keep it clean.

He crawls under the blankets of his bed, turning to her as she looks at him expectantly. His expression says ‘you can sleep somewhere else’— but is that true? No— Percy’s just going to invite her there, too. Right? He—

“Sorry, its kind of stuffy in here,” He yawns and turns his back to her, “Maybe you can sleep in the bunk above me.”

Oh. “That’s fine, seaweed brain; I just wanna sit down right now.” Annabeth props her back against the bed frames’ rail.

It’s quiet.

Annabeth clears her throat. “It’s... it’s been a while since we’ve had some alone time, hasn’t it?”

“It has.” His reply is delayed.

“We should have lunch together tomorrow,” Annabeth smiles to herself. “To catch up and all that.”

“Uh huh.”

Am i bothering him?

“How have you been?”

“Good.”

A pause.

“You’re probably tired.”

“Yeah.”

Another pregnant pause, tense and cold and everything Annabeth doesn’t want to feel.

“So i’ve been working on these new building designs,” She says slowly, “Maybe I could show you sometime. I’ve worked hard on it, so i’m excited to show you-”

“Gods, could you just shut up?”

“I- what?”

Percy’s up now, tearing off the sheets to stand in front of her, “Do you know how tired I am? Iv’e been working my ass of for the last week—”

His eyes are alive now, but Annabeth isn’t sure if its a good thing.

“—Trying to find time for anything else and the only time I get to myself is this? When this is the only time I want to be alone?”

Annabeth stands up. “Woah, hey; Let’s just talk this out. I’m tired too-”

“Are you?” Percy scoffs, cutting her off with a sharp glance

“So why don’t we just sleep on this until the morning?” She says frantically, reaching out to touch his arm with a gentle hand.

He pulls his arm away defiantly.

"No," Percy seethes, "No."

"I-"

"Do you know how much I hate hearing your little rants all the time?" He continues, voice dark, "Do you know how much I hate how clingy you've gotten since we started dating? Gods, Annabeth, you're insufferable!"

That's bad. Not wisegirl. Not baby, babe, love- just Annabeth. What she would give to just hear a affectionate name come out of his mouth, because fuck, this just hurts.

"What? I'm sorry, but-"

"Just get out!" Percy sighs frustratedly. "Please."

Silence yet again.

"Okay," Annabeth's voice comes out quiet. Broken. "Okay."

It takes a few steps to walk out of the door— ashamed or embarrassingly, she doesn't know— and just like that, Annabeth is gone.

Percy messed up.

He isn't surprised.

After all, he's been tried all week. Longer? Who knows? All he can remember is Annabeth coming into his cabin, him snapping for god knows what, and then he's telling her to get out.

After he's cooled off, cleared his head, Percy just feels regret.

Little snippets of the conversation pop into his mind. But fuck. It's worse, if that's possible.

"Do you know how much I hate hearing your little rants all the time?"

No. I love hearing your rants all the time. I love hearing your voice, even if its you complaining about cabin mates, even if its you talking about new building designs.

"Do you know how much I hate how clingy you've gotten since we started dating?"

I love you. Why would I hate you being clingy?

"Gods, Annabeth, you're insufferable!"

Gods, wisegirl, I love you.

"Just get out!"

Please stay with me.

And he knows it'll take a lot of time to gain back Annabeth's trust. Percy just wants to do that. Please, just let him do that.

Percy decides to start by finding her.

It wouldn't— shouldn't be hard to do so, because he knows where to go. Annabeth likes to hide under her blankets on cold nights. She likes to wrap herself in his blankets, too, or head to the top of Camp Half Blood hill to gaze at the stars with him.

Except Annabeth isn't at any of those places.

He's checked her cabin. Under her bunk, too. Camp Half blood hill? Deserted. His cabin?

...No.

Okay, Percy thinks to himself, Where else does she like to go?

Oh, that's right.

The forest. It's a familiar place. With its comftorable atmosphere and friendly dryads, its a one-stop for cooling down.

But night time? Don't get him started.Should you take one glance and surely, you'd regret it.

It's a slow thought, but Percy finds himself trudging his way through the dark woods. His legs hurt, eyes hurt, everything hurts, but he continues on.

The ground is damn under his steps, and Percy can't help but notice the eerie aura to everything. The moon is covered by thick, grey clouds. even with his sweatpants and a sweater thrown on, it's cold. It's uncomftorable being out there.

"Annabeth?" He can only hope she's not in trouble, so Percy calls out again, "Annabeth? Are you-"

A scream rings out through the forest, and Percy freezes.

That was- No, it wasn't- It couldn't be her. Not here, not now!

It was definitely Annabeth.

It came from his left- so, naturally, Percy finds his rational desicion making skills fly out the window instead of calmly proceeding towards the screams. His legs betray him as he darts towards the sounds, heart beating so loudly he can't seem to hear anything else.

Then, of course, he sees Ananbeth and the Myrmekes, and Percy can't think straight anymore.

She's surrounded by about three of them, the ant-like creatures surrounding her, and Annabeth seems to be caught off guard because her eyes are widened in shock.

Her eyes- they look red and stained by tears. Most likely caused by him.

Before Percy can let the guilt set in, maybe stop to plan what his next move should be, his body betrays him as he surges forward; uncapping Riptide the fastest he's ever had.

Heartbeat in his ears, Percy watches as one of the Myrmerkes gnaws its mandibles. It's a sign it's about to spit poison at her, but before that-

"Annabeth!"

Then she's looking at him, dagger weakened in her hands and face faltering. She's... Beautiful. But now's not the time to notice that, because he's sprinting towards her in a frantic dash.

"Umph-" Annabeth gasps as she's pulled out of the Myrmerkes way, which just so happens to spit it's poision in their way. It leaves a trail of burnt earth in it's wake.

"Seawe-" She looks away. "P-Percy?"

She's not hurt, He notices, Good.

"Please, stay here-" Percy starts slowly.

"No- I can do this myself-" Annabeth starts to get up from the ground, before her right leg goes limp— and she collapses back to the ground. Her lips twitch downwards in disastisfaction.

The Myrmerke only hiss louder.

"You can't," He says quietly. "Please. Let me help you."

After a beat, she looks at the monster. And then at him. "...Alright." It's hesitant, but otherwise willingly. Percy smiles.

He wants to fight. He wants to rip it to shreds, send it back to Tartarus, but Percy sighs and caps Riptide back on before gently picking up Annabeth.

"W-what are you doing?"

"Easy," When he sucsessfuly slides his arms under her legs and holding her back, Percy looks down at her. "Running."

"What-" She tries to say, but they're already halfway out the forest.

The run back is... Quiet, to say the least. Percy's breathing is laboured and frantic, his eyes darting towards her in concern every few seconds.

Annabeth wants to think that he's cooled down— but has he? Or is he just guilty?

Her questions are answered when Percy stops short at his cabin door.

"Im sorry," He says, placing her down on the stairs and sitting beside her, "I'm so sorry."

Annabeth stays silent, chewing on her bottom lip. Her hands are cold while they sit in her lap.

"I was tired, and wasn't thinking... I didn't- I didn't mean anything I said."

After a pause, she speaks up. "I know."

Percy looks down.

She looks at him. "But i'm sorry too— I should've came at another time. It was uncalled for."

He looks like the weight of the world has just been lifted off his shoulders. She would know— he's quiet literally done it before.

"Do you wanna come in?" He asks hopefully.

The moonlight shines down on them as the clouds clear. The stars are bright. All is well. All is calm.

"Won't I be a bother?"

"No," Percy immediately says, "No, you could never."

She smiles a bit. "Okay, then."

"One more thing," Percy says as he helps Annabeth get up, "I love you."

Percy doesn't expect her to say it back, at least not yet, but she says it right back;

"I love you too."

It's hopeful.

#why DID THIS TAKE SO LONG IM SO SORRY #geez i finally did it #i hope you enjoyed it! <3 #pjo #percabeth #annabeth chase #percy jackson #percy pjo #annabeth pjo #percabeth oneshot #percabeth fanfiction #percabeth fanfic #chb #percabeth angst

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vs-redemption · 3 years ago

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This piece was written for my Birthday/Halloween Jeopardy event!

First Kiss (Tooru Oikawa x GN!Reader)

Requested by: @love-oikawa Word Count: 1.1k Warnings: fluff and cuteness

For such a peaceful fall evening, the nearly vacant beach seemed to be alive with sounds. The lazy ocean waves lapped rhythmically against the shore, a few crickets chirped their song somewhere off in the grass, the wood on the fire popped and crackled soothingly, and the hushed conversation and laughter from you and Tooru all blended together as the sun made its descent. The slight chill in the air had deterred most beach goers from venturing out, but you and your boyfriend had decided it was a perfect night to stargaze and make smores. It had not been long since your friendship with Tooru had blossomed into something more and the thought of doing something so nice together had filled you with a giddy excitement.

“It’s gonna burn,” you warn him while opening up the box of graham crackers and pulling the large chocolate bar from its wrapper so everything would be ready to go when the marshmallows were done. You roll your eyes when Tooru ignores you completely. He was crouched down next to the fire pit, tongue poking out in concentration with his marshmallow skewer stuck into the dancing flames.

“Tooru, it’s going to catch on…” A well timed yelp interrupts your comment as your boyfriend’s marshmallow ignites. He jerks his skewer out from the fire and blows out the flames but the damage was already done. His whole body slouches in disappointment at the sight of the marshmallow that now resembled a lump of charcoal.

“At least we know it’ll melt the chocolate,” he reasons.

“Actually it won’t,” you come over and take the skewer from his hand to pull off the ruined marshmallow with a paper towel. “The top layer is scorched but the middle is completely cool, see?” You offer to let him poke at his failed attempt and he frowns when there isn’t even a trace of heat on the gooey inside of his marshmallow. You chuckle and lean into his side.

“No pouting,” you tell him encouragingly, “that’s why I brought the whole bag with us. Here, I’ll show you.” You reach into the bag and pull out a fresh marshmallow, sticking it on the end of the skewer and going back over to the fire. You plop your bottom down on one of the log benches and hover the marshmallow to the side of the fire where a few pieces of wood had broken off and started to smolder. Slowly but surely, the outside of the marshmallow began to turn a nice shade of golden brown.

“Well, look at you,” Tooru teases, his pout from before pulling into an impressed smile. “I didn’t know I was dating a smarty pants.” He stands up to go grab another marshmallow and skewer so that he can try again. Your eyes follow him instinctively and your heart gives a little skip at the reminder that you are dating now. Sometimes it still felt like a daydream.

“Aren’t you supposed to be turning that?” His question pulls you from your musings and you realize you’d started to neglect your own marshmallow. He chuckles at the way you startle and quickly pull the skewer back to inspect the damage. “Sorry,” his big brown eyes sparkle with mischief now, “I didn’t mean to distract you.”

“You wish,” you click your tongue. “Besides, it’s fine. I just need to roast the other side now.”

“Right,” Tooru sits himself next to you on the bench, close enough so that your whole side is smooshed against his. He sticks his skewer over the embers and starts rotating his marshmallow like you’d shown him. After a few close calls where his marshmallow nearly fell off into the fire, it was time to move on to the next step.

“All right, so just put the marshmallow right on top of the chocolate,” you tell him while sandwiching it all down with the top graham cracker. With the both of you working together, you’d thought it would keep the mess down to a minimum but you were mistaken. By the end, you both end up dissolving into giggles with your fingers covered in sticky marshmallow goop.

“Believe it or not, the mess is part of the charm,” you explain once you both finally have your smores in hand. “Go ahead and try it.” Tooru brings the treat to his mouth and takes a big bite, face lighting up instantly at the taste.

“Oh wow, that’s really sweet. I like it.” He hums and then lets out a laugh when you take a bite of yours. “Uh oh, you got a little chocolate there.” He points to your cheek. “Want me to get it?” The question seemed innocent enough and you found yourself nodding your head even though it was a little embarrassing to have him wipe your face. You gasp in surprise though when he simply leans in and kisses the chocolate off you.

“Tooru!”

“Sorry!” He says in a sing-song voice that didn’t sound sorry at all. “You have some on the other side too, may I?” His eyes search yours for permission playfully.

“Yeah… sure.” He leans in and kisses the other side, leaving both your cheeks tingly from the new feeling of his mouth on your skin. Your boyfriend surprises you one last time when his thumb comes up to brush your bottom lip.

“Might be a little here too?” he grins eagerly, “it’s hard to tell in this lighting.”

“Better safe than sorry I suppose,” the words slip out before you can stop them and Tooru wastes no time in pressing his lips softly to yours for the first time. Your eyes flutter closed but it only lasts a brief moment and then he’s pulling away.

“Think I got it all,” he says softly, a pretty blush spreading over his face.

“Thanks,” you let out a little laugh while reaching out to take his hand into yours. The reassurance seems to give him a bit of confidence back.

“We should finish our smores while they’re still warm and gooey, yeah?” He asks, glad that his affection had been received so well. You nod in agreement, hesitating for just a second before replying.

“Just let me know if you need to get any more chocolate off my face, okay?” Your boyfriend’s delighted look gives you butterflies and he readily agrees, ecstatic at having an excuse to kiss you again soon.

“Of course,” he tells you resolutely. “I’ll make sure not a single spot gets past my attention.” After leaning in to give you a quick nuzzle, you both go back to munching on your smores. Even as the fading daylight allows the stars to shine through more prominently, the familiar sounds of the beach persist, including the soft laughter between you and Tooru who just use the crisp night air as a chance to snuggle up closer in the light of the fire.

#JeopardyEvent #Tooru Oikawa x Reader #Haikyuu x Reader #Tooru Oikawa #Haikyuu #Hannah💖#best moot squad #Cindy's Writing

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fuabloboi · 4 years ago

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The Treehouse

Day 2 of @petopher-events March 2021 - Kid fic

1982

“Hey! That’s my tree!” Chris peeked down, rubbing his face with the back of his arm as he heard a high-pitched fierce voice.

He groaned, running a hand over his short bristly hair. All he wanted was some peace and quiet. Chris had just been beaten to a pulp by his father, and he was aware that if Gerard saw him cry, he would be battered all over again. He had ended up on a sturdy tree in the preserve after sneaking out the window, silently sobbing to himself. There was nowhere else Chris could have gone. If he tried to run away, Gerard would have still found him and he would have been returned to the Argent household by someone else. Sadly, his father had way too much influence over the county and its people.

“Shut up, it hasn’t got your name on it.” he shouted back.

“As a matter of fact, yes it does.” the voice cried out in reply.

Chris turned his head and caught sight of the initials ‘P. H.’ engraved onto the bark. He almost fell off when he faced forwards and saw a little dark-haired boy with big blue eyes perched opposite him.

“See.” he tilted his head.

“Well, now it’s got mine.” Chris muttered, fishing the pocket knife he carried everywhere and carving his own initials leaving a gap next to the other.

The boy rolled his eyes but outstretched his arm, “I’m Peter. Are you- are you okay?”

“Chris,” he said, shaking the boy’s hand, “And yeah I’m fine.”

“Don’t look like it.”

There wasn’t a single day he didn’t have a black eye, a bruise, or a cut. Gerard always found some reason to punish him and not even his own mother could do anything about it. He wasn’t even sure of how he was alive at that point.

“It doesn’t matter.” he replied hastily and asked, “How old are you?”

“Six.” Peter told him and continued, “What about you?”

“I’m twelve. And how’d you get up here so fast?” Chris inquired since he was confused as to how a six-year-old could race up such a tall tree.

Peter’s deep blue eyes briefly flashed in a golden yellow, and Chris realized that this kid was what Gerard wanted him to hunt down; a werewolf. However, unlike the vivid picture of bloodthirsty savage werewolves and their young that Gerard had painted in his head, the boy didn’t seem like a threat at all. Chris saw him as a human, not a monster.

Peter gasped suddenly, “You’re one of them aren’t you?”

“One of who?” he raised an eyebrow.

“The Argents.” the boy stated calmly.

Chris flinched and nodded at him. He had expected Peter to be afraid of him, and even run away, but he hadn’t. He sat completely unfazed and Chris was surprised.

“What are you doing here?” Peter questioned again.

“Nothing really. It’s peaceful up here and I like it.” he lied. Peter didn’t need to know why he actually came there. Chris wasn’t even sure whether the wolf would have understood if he had been honest.

“Cool!” the boy stared at him before exclaiming with a grin, revealing the absence of a few teeth, making Chris smile as well.

“Hey!” Peter greeted, hurtling up the tree and settling in front of him.

“Hey, Peter. What’s this?” Chris smiled at the boy and asked when he held out an energy bar packed in a blue wrapper.

“What it looks like, obviously.” he regarded, waving it, “Take it. I got it for you.”

“Me? Why?” he said, taking it from the wolf’s hands and tearing it open.

“You ask too many questions. I brought it thinking you might be here when I came.” Peter answered, digging into another energy bar that he had kept in his pocket.

“Well, thanks.” Chris replied, taking a bite.

He knew his father would have him whipped for accepting food from a werewolf without a second thought, but he was too famished to care. Gerard didn’t only beat him, he also starved Chris as punishment. The bar tasted like heaven and he wolfed it down. He was more than glad that Peter had brought it for him and yet he was also puzzled.

“You were hungry, I sensed it yesterday.” Peter revealed, licking his fingers.

“Really?” Chris said and stuffed the wrapper in his jacket pocket, “Why did you bring it, though? Why did you trust me? You know I’m… one of them.”

Chris didn’t even want to mention his own last name. He detested being an Argent and being referred to by that name.

“You smell nice.” Peter responded matter-of-factly, but Chris was confused.

He had loathed his own scent, however, with time he had grown accustomed to it. Chris knew he smelled of dried blood combined with sweat and he was pretty sure that didn’t smell nice. Horrible and disgusting seemed more likely.

“Excuse me, what?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, Ta said that people who smell nice are good people and I can trust them.” Peter explained.

“Ta?”

“Talia, my sister. She started taking care of me after Ma and Pa- after they went to a better place.”

Everyone had heard the term ‘a better place’ at some point in their lives and that was when Chris pieced it together. Peter wasn’t just any ordinary werewolf who lived in Beacon Hills.

“You- you’re a Hale.” Chris stated wide-eyed.

“Yup.” Peter said bobbing his head.

It had taken place about a year ago when he was eleven and Chris could remember it clearly. Gerard had gloated to his fellow hunters about his achievement of being able to capture and kill both Richard and Emilia Hale, the two oldest members of the family, who were also widely known in the supernatural world. He had seen them briefly and to him, they seemed like genuinely pleasant people. His father had told him that Chris wasn’t old enough to understand, but he was sure that Gerard wasn’t doing something right if he could so heartlessly torture him. He had come to acknowledge that Gerard had the best interest to no one and only for himself.

1986

Chris yawned, his legs dangling from the tree and Peter was munching on an apple, murdering it with his fangs. The wolf was taller now and his hair had grown, the fringe covering his forehead and just above his eyes. It had been a gloomy day and Chris had made it to the tree right after training. He had been beaten again and his body had ached so much that he struggled to get on the tree, but Peter had helped him up and offered an apple.

They had been meeting every day for four years now and Gerard, thankfully, hadn’t suspected a thing. It was most probably since his younger sister Katherine had been born three years ago. The young wolf would arrive with food and they’d sit there together, sometimes talking and sometimes silent.

As a result of their conversations, Chris had discovered that Talia, Peter’s older sister was the alpha of the Hale pack and was the mother to a little wolf girl named Laura. He also found out that Peter was prone to have fits of rage, destroying his own toys. However, Peter had mentioned that he felt comfortable with him and Chris had never witnessed such behavior from the wolf.

“Christopher?” the boy called out.

Peter had begun to call him ‘Christopher’ instead of what everyone else called him in his life and Chris found that amusing. He liked the boy and he didn’t mind meeting him each day for the rest of his life. Chris wondered whether things would change by then, whether he’d escape Gerard and there would be no more hunting, a world where he and Peter could meet freely, no violence, no death, just peace, and happiness.

“Yeah?” he replied lazily, yawning again. Chris was still tired and he needed to nap. He couldn’t do that at home, and as uncomfortable as it would be, Chris felt like sleeping up on the tree.

“What do you think about a treehouse?” Peter suggested with a grin, chucking away the remainder of the apple.

“I like that.” Chris smiled, “But… only if you help me build one.”

Peter rolled his eyes and groaned, “Of course you’d say that. Fine, I’ll help.”

“Great. We start tomorrow. I’m gonna nap.” he muttered to the wolf before closing his eyes, cozying himself on the not-so-comfy branch.

“Well, I’ll be here protecting you.” Peter said and Chris laughed a little.

“And what are you going to do if someone tries to kill us?” He opened an eye to look at the Hale.

In an instant, Peter drew his claws and tried to growl menacingly. Chris thought that it was adorable.

1988

“Christopher!!!” Peter exclaimed, jumping off the tree and launching himself onto Chris, wrapping him in a tight hug. The wolf was twelve and several inches shorter than him but was obviously stronger than most kids his age.

“Peter, woah geez I’m human.” he laughed, stuck inside the rib-crushing hug.

“Happy 18th Birthday! Well, late birthday.” the boy shouted, hugging him tighter.

“Thank you, kiddo.” Chris groaned and Peter let go of him, grinning.

It had been Chris’ birthday the week before and he had been in Japan, doing his first gun deal with the goddamn Yakuza. Gerard’s idea of a birthday present was putting him in a near-death situation and Chris wasn’t even surprised. The experience had been extremely unsettling and so terrible, that he wanted to forget his 18th birthday. He had informed Peter about it a few days before but not many details as even Chris had been unaware of what he was going into until he had made it to the venue.

“What happened? You look pretty shaken up.” Peter eyed him, suspiciously.

“Yeah, it wasn’t that great. It was a gun deal with the Yakuza and it didn’t go that well, but I’m alive, right? So that’s what matters.” Chris managed a weak smile. He knew he couldn’t lie and Peter was always worried about him so he kept the details of figures materializing out of the shadows with swords similar to ninjatos to himself.

“The ya- what?” the wolf blinked at him.

“It’s like Japanese mafia, Pete.” he answered, ruffling Peter’s hair.

“Woah geez. Are you hurt?” Peter raised an eyebrow at him.

“Nah, nah I’m good.” Chris smiled. He was telling the truth in a way. Though he was injured then, he was better now and he was used to the pain regardless.

“Well enough of that. We’re going to have a proper celebration.” the boy smirked and Chris wanted to facepalm himself. He was sure that Peter would have planned something. It was just the way he was. Chris had never wanted anything for his birthday but the wolf would get him small trinkets and he appreciated it very much.

Chris had genuinely been surprised when Peter had introduced him as his best friend to the rest of the Hales. Peter’s sister Talia had dinner prepared and even baked a cake with ‘Happy 18th Birthday Chris!’ on it. Peter had made him what seemed like a bracelet with a little piece of wood shaped like a tree, which Chris assumed was to signify how they met. He had almost cried at the Hale House. He had never been so happy and no one had ever done anything so amazing for him. The Hales had treated Chris like he was one of their own and given him a birthday that he would never forget. The next morning Chris had sneaked back into the house, and Gerard hadn’t noticed his disappearance as always.

1992

“Christopher!” Peter yelled, and he could detect the excitement in his voice, “I did it!”

Chris sniggered as he slipped the wolf figurine that he had been carving for the past hour into his left jacket pocket. He sheathed the knife in his boot, stepped out, and settled on a branch before hanging upside down to greet the wolf.

“I did my first evolved shift!” he panted as he came to a halt.

It took a while for Peter to come into view and Chris shut his eyes when he did, almost plummeting onto the ground below.

“Why are you naked?” Chris groaned.

“What do you- have you seen wolves wearing clothes?” Peter whined back.

“Go get yourself some clothes or I’m leaving.” he said, with his eyes still closed.

There was another whine from the younger boy and it made him snicker. He loved how Peter could always lighten up his mood somehow. It was good and he felt lucky to have the wolf in his life. It had been ten years since they had met and Chris’ life had changed for the better though his father still made his life a living hell. Peter made him forget all of it when they spent time together.

“Ughhh will you come with me? Please, please, pretty please Christopher?”

“Fine.”

Chris landed onto his feet with a flip without opening his eyes and Peter snorted, before snarling. When he glanced in the direction of the sound, Chris saw a wolf with dark black sleek fur. He lowered himself onto one knee so he could run his hand through Peter’s coat. He let out something like a satisfied purr and Chris got back onto his feet. Then they were off, sprinting through the preserve back to the Hale house. Peter was quick, but Chris managed to keep up with him.

Once they had arrived at the residence, Peter shot up the stairs to his room. He came back down in his usual V-neck and jeans with a pout. His hair was shorter now and in a mess as always, yet Chris considered it to look good on him. The two of them went back to their tree, this time walking slowly.

They spent the day chasing each other around through the trees. Chris felt like an idiot for playing, but he was having fun and soon he became comfortable. It was pretty late when Chris was feeling exhausted, so Peter decided that they should take a swim in the lake. They fooled around for a couple of minutes and it was when they dried off to get dressed that Chris remembered about the wolf he had carved. When they got back to the treehouse, Chris had gifted the figurine to an astonished Peter. The wolf had adored it from first sight and thanked him endlessly. Since it was dark, they silently lied down next to each other on the wooden floor. Chris was an adult so he knew that Gerard didn’t give a damn about him as long as he was at the house in the morning.

“Christopher, can I say something?” Peter suddenly spoke up.

“Yeah?” he responded, turning to the side and propping himself up on his elbow.

“I- I- it’s hard to say.” he chuckled lightly, “Never mind.”

“Just go on Pete.” Chris hummed at the boy.

“I- I like you. A lot. You know- more- more than just a friend. I- I just didn’t understand it before.” he mumbled, stuttering a little.

Chris sighed, closing his eyes and lying on his back once more.

“Peter, you’re sixteen. What you feel- it’s not love. It’s just something you feel at this age as you grow.” he explained, “You will know what it’s like to be in love when you’re older, but this as much as you think it is, it isn’t.”

“Okay.” said Peter, softly and Chris flinched as he detected the hurt in the Hale’s voice.

‘I smiled sadly for a love I could not obey’ from David Bowie’s Lady Stardust started ringing in his head, because that’s exactly what he was doing now.

He had acknowledged that there was more than just a brotherly affection he felt towards Peter. He wanted to wrap the wolf in his arms, love him and protect him, but it just wasn’t right. Peter was a sixteen-year-old. He was still a boy in high school while Chris - he was twenty-two; an adult. Chris was disgusted by his own self for the attraction he had to the teenager. It may just be a six year age gap, but Peter was a kid and he wasn’t. It was wrong and Chris detested that he couldn’t view Peter as just his best friend anymore.

Even if their ages weren’t a problem, anything else between them would only give Gerard more reason to harm Peter if he found out. Chris didn’t give a damn about what happened to him. He needed the wolf to be safe no matter what and it would break him if Peter was hurt. It was a sacrifice that he had to make, so they wouldn’t lose what they already had. To Gerard, it wouldn’t be just about loving a werewolf, but also about loving a man.

1993

Peter was already at the treehouse when Chris got there. They were still the best of friends even after the confession from Peter almost a year ago. Things remained just the same and the younger boy didn’t make any advances. This day Chris had news. News that was going to change his life and possibly affect their friendship as well.

“Hey, Pete.” Chris greeted as he settled himself opposite Peter on the wooden floor.

“Christopher.” Peter smiled at him. He had grown into a beautiful man now and Chris still could recall the six-year-old with the missing teeth. Chris had literally watched him grow through the years.

“I’ve- I’ve got news. I’m getting-” he started to say, but was soon interrupted.

“Married next week,” Peter finished his sentence and Chris frowned, “What? All of the supernatural world knows. A hunter family visiting Beacon Hills? It’s obvious. Besides, news spreads around here fast.”

He stared at Peter with his jaw dropped and then nodded. The wolf was right about all of it and Gerard had planned it to be a grand wedding. The funny thing about that was the fact that Chris had never seen the girl he was going to marry or even heard her name. Obviously, Gerard was doing it for his own benefit. He pondered over the question of what it would be like to live with a stranger for the rest of his life.

“Yes.” he said, confirming what Peter had said.

“Well, I’ve got some news too, Christopher.” Peter spoke again, his tone slightly somber.

“What’s that?” Chris inquired.

“I’m leaving. For college that is.” his voice was soft, and Chris couldn’t believe that he had forgotten. Of course, Peter was going to leave. He had mentioned that he was contemplating that decision some time ago. Maybe Chris had been thinking that it wouldn’t come to that.

“Where to?” he asked the boy.

“Oh, that- no idea yet. I’ve got a little more time.” Peter grinned and Chris cracked up.

They spent that entire day together as there was a possibility that it would be the last one they could meet each other freely. It was as much as he could have. Though Chris loved him too, they would be star-crossed lovers and he just wanted to save Peter from that pain.

1998

“Daddy, where thish?” the little dark-haired fair girl in Chris’ arms chirped.

“We’re going to see my good friend, Ally sweetheart.” he said, kissing the top of her head. She was four but insisted on being carried and Chris just couldn’t say no.

“Okay, Daddy.” she hummed, resting her head against his collarbone.

It had been a long while since he had gone back to the treehouse. Chris had become busier with the business and had the responsibility of sustaining a family. Besides, Peter was away as well and he missed the wolf dearly. It was tough at first, not being able to meet his best friend, talk to him or hear of how he was doing. Even if it got easier with time, the Hale was on Chris’ mind every single day and the feelings were still there though he was a husband, a father.

Talia had secretly informed Chris that Peter would be returning to Beacon Hills because she had figured that he’d want to see the wolf again. She didn’t know of his feelings but knew how close they had been.

“Peter!” Chris called out when he arrived at the tree.

“Christopher!” there was a roar and Peter landed, leaping off the tree. Allison stared in amusement.

Chris caught his breath when he got a proper look at Peter. His hair had grown slightly, but it was still the gorgeous mess it used to be. He hadn’t changed much, but Chris could see that Peter had matured, despite the goofy grin on his face. Peter wasn’t a boy. He was a man. It hurt Chris. Seeing the one he always wanted. The one he couldn’t have.

“And who is this angel, then?” Peter spoke first, beaming at his daughter.

“Allison, my daughter.” Chris smiled at the Hale, “Allison, this is Peter, my best friend.”

The words sounded almost bitter in his mouth. Best friends. That was all they could be, but at least they had that.

“Hello, Allison.” the wolf said, waving at her and Chris removed her from his chest, holding her towards Peter.

“Hi, Peter.” she chuckled at him.

Peter raised an eyebrow and Chris insisted with a nod. The wolf gently took Allison into his arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck instantly. He gazed at him, thrilled. Chris was glad that Allison was comfortable with him since every time Gerard was nearby, she’d break down crying. He didn’t blame her and kept her away from the man as much as he could. It was also amazing to see Peter so happy after years of not meeting each other.

They chatted as Peter gave Allison a piggyback and played with her, fooling around. Chris got the idea that Peter was great with kids and then realized that he was already an uncle to a sixteen-year-old girl, a ten-year-old boy as well as a four-year-old girl. He tried to picture what it would be like to raise a child with Peter, but soon let that thought go because it hurt too much.

As they talked, the wolf revealed that he didn’t want to go to law school, since he didn’t want to stay away from the pack for much longer and didn’t need a job for himself. He also wanted to be where Chris was. That piece of information made Chris feel better and even if they couldn’t hang out in their treehouse, there was a chance they could run into each other frequently.

When evening arrived, Chris decided that it was high time to leave. His wife Victoria would be paranoid and there was no cell signal in that area. Allison also seemed to be exhausted after playing. They had stayed there for a good amount of time. Before they said their goodbyes, Chris wrapped his arms around Peter and pulled him into a tight hug. He gently ruffled his hair like he did when they were younger, earning a snicker from the Hale in return. It had been forever since they last hugged and Chris missed it more than he could fathom.

“Hey, sweetie. I need you to help me.” Chris told Allison as they got to the edge of the preserve.

“Yes, Daddy?” she asked, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Can you promise me that you won’t tell anyone about Peter? And if someone asks where we were, will you tell them we were at the park? Can you do that for me?” he requested. Chris had wanted Peter to meet Allison and he knew what could take place if anyone else found out about that.

“I promise. I will do that.” she grinned at him and then frowned, “But why?”

“You’ll understand when you get older, sweetie.” Chris pressed his lips to the side of her head.

“Okay, Daddy. Park.” she yawned, falling asleep on Chris.

2003

Chris crept down the stairs with his flashlight, trying to make the least sound possible. It didn’t take him long to make out Peter and Derek hiding in the dark.

“Pete, Der?” he whispered to them.

He had managed to shake off Gerard and the other hunters before making it to the Nemeton. Peter had brought him there a couple of times and he figured that it would be where Peter and Derek ran off to. Though it would take the others a while to find the Nemeton, Gerard wouldn’t stop at tracking the wolves down, so Chris had to make sure they got away safely. He didn’t want to see what would happen to them otherwise. Peter was usually up to no good and Chris made sure to keep an eye on him as much as he could. It also didn't help that there were three other werewolf packs in Beacon Hills at the time. It could be a jackpot for Gerard.

“Yeah?” Chris heard Peter’s voice answer him, but his tone was more of a question.

“You have to get out now. Gerard- he’s coming.” he informed them and, both Peter and Derek slowly made their way towards Chris.

“Hey.” Derek said, his expression showing slight fear. The boy was about fifteen.

“Hey, Der.” Chris replied with a smile and glanced at Peter. He swore that the older wolf only got more attractive each time he saw him, which really wasn’t much. They met, but not as frequently as they used to and it almost tore Chris into pieces. He missed Peter terribly and when he lay in bed at night, Chris knew that he wanted Peter next to him instead of Victoria, and she was aware of that as well. She didn't know about Peter, but she did know that Chris wasn't exactly in love with her since it was the same with her for Chris.

Peter moved forward to hug him but Chris deflected it by grabbing his arm. He pouted and groaned.

"Peter, seriously, you need to be more careful. Gerard is so much more on alert these days and I- Peter- I don't…" Chris tried to say and faltered because the lump that formed in his throat didn't allow him to speak further.

Peter put his arms around Chris, wrapping him into a tight hug, "Don't worry, Christopher. I'll be fine."

"Don't you 'I'll be fine' me, Peter. I always worry about you. Promise to me that you'll take care." Chris told the younger man, ruffling his hair.

"Yes, I promise." he mumbled, resting his chin on Chris' shoulder.

Chris wished that the hug could go on for longer. However, they had to get moving now and hugs were for a later time. He pulled away from Peter begrudgingly before it got to the point that he couldn’t bring himself to let go of the wolf. It felt like torture.

He led them out from what looked like a root cellar as quickly as he could. There didn’t seem to be anyone else around just yet. Chris glanced at Peter.

“Yeah, I don’t hear anyone. I think we can get back home safely.” Peter said, reading Chris’ mind, “Der, go on. I’ll be right behind you.”

The teenager nodded and hurried off, disappearing among the trees.

Peter gazed at him, “I’ll see you around I guess.”

“Remember your promise?” Chris asked the Hale.

“Yes, Christopher. I promise I’ll take care.” Peter answered with a smirk and then he was gone, leaving Chris all on his own by the Nemeton.

2004

Chris’ heart was heavy in his chest. He had contacted Peter a few days ago and asked to meet him at the treehouse. He and Victoria had decided to leave Beacon Hills and stay away from Gerard. Victoria didn’t want Allison to be exposed to the supernatural and Chris didn’t either. Chris was sure that Gerard would try to snake his way into the little girl’s mind and twist her views like he did with his younger sister Kate. Even if Gerard didn’t take that route, Chris didn’t want Allison to live through a childhood similar to his. He didn’t want his daughter to grow up to hunt those similar to Peter. Those two were the people in Chris’ life that he loved the most and it would kill him if something happened to either one of them.

He climbed the tree and got himself onto the treehouse to see that Peter was sitting there waiting for him.

“Christopher, what’s going on? You asked to meet me.” Peter said, studying him intently.

“Yeah, Peter, I have news.” Chris told him with a sigh.

Peter raised an eyebrow, rising to his feet, “News? Last time you said that you were going to get married. You’re not getting married again are you?”

Chris chuckled softly, shaking head at the wolf, “No, Peter, I’m not getting married again. I’m- we- we’re leaving Beacon Hills.

“Leaving? You’re going? For how long?” Peter inquired, astounded.

Chris shrugged. They weren’t sure whether they’d ever move back and that was what hurt the most. He would likely never see Peter ever again. Though, Chris was ready if that was what it took to not have to watch his daughter hunt down Peter and his family.

The wolf launched onto Chris, taking him into a tight hug. Chris stumbled backward, but regained his footing and wrapped his arms around Peter. His heart shattered when he heard a sniffling sound.

“Hey, Pete…” Chris choked out the words, stroking Peter’s head with one hand and rubbing his back with the other.

“I- I know we haven’t seen each other much lately, but- but you’re my best friend. You- you were always there for me for most of my life.” he mumbled, “I’ll- I’ll miss you, Christopher. What will I do without you?”

“I’ll miss you too, Pete, but that’s how things are. I’m sorry. I just want you to be safe. You’ll do great without me, I’m sure.” Chris said to Peter, ruffling the younger man’s hair.

Peter silently clung to him a little longer and then finally spoke, “Promise me you’d at least let me know you’re alive from time to time?”

“Promise.”

They spent the rest of the day walking through the preserve that had been a home to them. Chris tried to take it all in before he left. The preserve had been his sanctuary and had given him his best friend.

2011

In just one night, Chris’ entire world crashed down upon him as he watched helplessly. It started off when Stiles had implied that Kate had set the Hale House on fire and unfortunately, it all made sense to him. The idea that someone of his blood was the reason for the demise of a family that actually cared about him, made his blood boil. His younger sister was the reason that Peter was so badly injured and in a vegetative comatose state. The sole reason Chris had left Beacon Hills was to make sure that Peter would be safe and if he had remained there, the wolf would be happy and full of life, while the other Hales would still be alive.

It had gotten even worse subsequently when it was revealed that it was in fact Peter who was the alpha. The bloodthirsty alpha committing all the murders in Beacon Hills. The alpha that Chris had returned to Beacon Hills to hunt. His best friend was the alpha. His beloved Peter was the monster that Chris was attempting to kill.

That wasn’t all. Peter had murdered Kate, ripping her throat out with his claws, that too in front of Allison. Then Peter had been set on fire before having his own throat ripped out by Derek, right in front of Chris’ eyes and he just stood there, unable to do anything. Everything he was used to and everyone he had known was different and he assumed that was what pain did to people.

Chris wished he could have done more. He could have intervened. He could have tried to help Peter this time. But he didn’t and so now here he was at an unholy hour, back at the treehouse, sobbing to himself exactly like he did twenty nine years ago, except then there was no treehouse then. Chris could remember how he had cried when he heard about the fire and that was nothing compared to the pain he felt this night. Chris thought about how could have saved Peter from his fate, but this time he had lost Peter completely and his mind wouldn’t stop recalling the six-year-old with the missing teeth, the crazy mischievous teenager that would joke around with him, the man Chris had deeply fallen in love with. It was like a hole in his heart, one that could never be filled.

Peter was gone and Chris didn’t want to believe that. It was Peter. He didn’t just die. He just couldn’t. Chris hated everything, he hated everyone including himself. He didn’t give a fuck anymore. Nothing mattered any longer.

This was exactly what Chris had tried to avoid and all he had done was fuel it. Even if it wasn’t directly, Chris was still to blame. He had failed everyone and he wondered what Peter had been thinking when he saw Chris standing there, doing nothing for him. His best friend, not lending a hand when he was dying. Had Peter given up on Chris as he died? It broke him into pieces.

Chris looked over at where he had carved his name next to Peter’s and he raised an eyebrow. Maybe his vision was blurry from the crying but he could make out a plus sign between their names. He rubbed his eyes and looked again to see just that. Had some kid found their treehouse and done that?

Or had it been Peter?

Had the wolf still had those feelings for him from almost two decades ago? Had Peter still loved Chris despite the rejection, despite Chris getting married to a woman? Had Peter yearned for him when he was away from Beacon Hills? Had Peter carved the sign between their names because it was his little secret since no one would know what it meant and since he thought Chris wouldn’t see it as he wouldn’t come back? Did Peter love Chris as he lay on the preserve floor, seconds away from his death? Chris would never have those answers because he was too late, too idiotic, and foolish.

His heart ached even more. If Peter did love him, he would have died thinking that Chris never felt the same way about him, though in reality, Chris did. He wished he would have just told the wolf the truth and then explained why they couldn’t be together.

Chris glanced at his watch, realizing that it was almost 3 in the morning. Here he was mourning a werewolf while his family mourned his younger sister. He had to get back home. Although his heart was in pain for someone else, Chris had his duties. He ran his hand over the carvings of the tree and drew back his sleeve, exposing the wrist he wore Peter’s gift and kissed it. Chris had worn it every single day of his life after receiving it and that was all he had of the wolf now.

Chris wasn’t sure whether his life was getting worse or better. First Kate, then Peter and now Victoria. However, Peter was back and it drove Chris mad. He had mourned for the wolf, cried his eyes out wishing he could have saved the wolf and hating himself for doing nothing. Then Peter had emerged out of nowhere at the warehouse and Chris couldn’t believe his eyes. He felt stupid for crying and he had been right when he thought that Peter didn’t just die. The fact that Peter had returned to the world of the living the exact night Victoria died baffled him. It was as if the universe willed it.

He found himself in the treehouse once again after Allison had fallen asleep. Chris was happy, and yet so furious. Couldn’t have Peter said something? Couldn’t he have left Chris a sign showing that he was alive? Chris wasn’t crying this time. Instead, he had settled on the floor with his head against the wall, eyes closed, rubbing his forehead trying to make sense of all the different emotions churning inside his system.

There were a few creaks accompanied by a shuffling sound and then a voice said, “Christopher, it’s me.”

There was no way Chris didn’t recognize that voice. It made him feel like his heart was about to melt. He opened his eyes to stare right into Peter’s, drowning in the beautiful blue ones that Chris had always had adored. The wolf was sitting in front of him, cross-legged. There was stubble on Peter’s face now and he was as gorgeous as always. Chris wanted to kiss the heck out of the man.

“I fucking hate you.” he mumbled, before springing towards Peter and into his arms, taking him into a bone-crushing hug. The familiar scent felt like home and Chris was warm inside. He melted into Peter as the wolf hugged him, gently rubbing Chris’ back, and whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

Chris had already forgiven the man before the apology and pulled away to look at him again. He couldn’t begin to describe how much he had missed Peter. To Chris, it had been like an eternity until he had seen Peter again. Peter smiled at him and Chris was smiling back naturally, a few tears streaming down his cheeks. He peeked at the carving and Peter cleared his throat.

“About that… It’s probably not the right time to tell you this, but I’m not sixteen anymore, so I’m sure it’s real.” he said, and produced the wolf figurine Chris had given him.

“You loved me?” Chris asked the wolf.

“No, Christopher I love you. Always have and still do.” Peter replied, taking Chris’ face in his hands.

He wasn’t sure if he was hearing wrong. Peter had loved him all along.

“But- but you didn’t…” Chris tried to say.

“I knew you must have a good reason to hide it and just stay friends with me, so I didn’t say anything again. I could still smell it on you though. Talia was the one who told it to me because she could smell it too. Heck at first, I didn’t know and I couldn’t stand myself for falling for my best friend. I was confused why you didn’t want something more between us, but I understood eventually. And now we’re here, Christopher. What have we got to lose?” Peter spoke softly, looking into his eyes and stroking his cheek.

Chris was kissing Peter before he knew it, letting loose of all the emotions that he had been bottling up for years. He had never thought this day would come, and he tightened the hug, not wanting to let go of the wolf. He couldn’t let that happen again. Peter was kissing him back passionately, and Chris got lost in all his feelings. It felt good. The taste of Peter’s lips on his, the wolf’s touch against his skin, the warmth. He pulled back, resting his head against Peter’s neck.

He didn’t know what he had done to deserve this but was glad that there was a chance for Peter and him. Chris could be with the one he had truly loved when he was a boy. It was possible now, though it had seemed impossible back then. They could still have a future. Peter held Chris in his arms as they stayed in the treehouse in silence. They didn��t need to say anything.

When Chris had run off to the preserve twenty nine years ago and sobbed to himself on this very tree, he had never imagined that it would lead him to happiness.

#petopher events #petopher edit #peter hale x chris argent #petopher fics #my fanfiction #teen wolf

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sailtoafarawayland · 4 years ago

Text

The Things We Don’t Say (modern AU - Actors)

Summary: No one is perfect, and sometimes, two people are just so perfectly flawed that those pieces fit together and make something beautiful. When sparks fly between two leads of a new hit show, is there a happy ending in sight, or will their own mistakes overshadow any chance they had at something worth fighting for.

Rated: Explicit

Warnings: This is a joyfully Captain Swan story, but there are a few warnings. It does start with Emma/Neal and Killian/Milah. I don't write non-CS, so there won't be any sexual anything happening 'on screen', so to speak, between those couples, but I won't guarantee there may not be a mention. This story contains numerous episodes of cheating. If any of these things make you squick or are not your bag, carry on.

AO3 - FF

- or read below the cut -

As always, let me know if you’d like to be tagged for further updates.

Tag list: @xarandomdreamx @jrob64 @wefoundloveunderthelight @teamhook @tiganasummertree @pirateprincessofpizza @lfh1226-linda @kmomof4

Chapter One

Emma scrolled through the email her manager had sent detailing the new role she was being offered. It was something fresh, something different from what she normally focused on—no hint of a police procedural in sight—and based on the tone, it sounded like they were very interested in getting her signed for one of the leads. She stretched her legs out along the couch, digging her cold toes underneath the pillows in search of some warmth, only to yank them back when she encountered something both crinkly and wet.

“Dammit, Neal! What the hell is this?” she growled, glaring at the brown sludge coating her foot.

She leaned forward, careful to angle her toes away from any other surface, and peeled the throw pillow from the couch. Smeared across the white fabric and the expensive leather was what looked like the remainder of a milky way bar, the wrapper still clinging to the puddle of caramel and chocolate.

“You have got to be kidding me. Neal!”

The only response she got was the sound of something hitting a pan full of oil in the kitchen, the apartment filled with the sizzling hiss of something frying. Dropping her phone and forgetting all about the email she’d just been reading, she hobbled down the hall into the bathroom to clean up, wondering how in the hell to get out a chocolate and caramel stain. Why he couldn’t just learn to clean up after himself was beyond understanding. Sometimes it felt like she was living with a teenager who never wanted to grow up, and she couldn’t help but long for the days when her apartment was clean and didn’t smell like whatever weird odor it was that Neal always brought home—grease and cigarette smoke, maybe.

Her foot finally clean enough to be walked on, she headed into the kitchen to get some paper towels only to be greeted by what looked like every dish she owned spread out on the counters and island. Every surface was dusted in flour and drips of batter, measuring spoons leaving trails of oil and sugar across the floor and counters alike.

“Oh my god,” she cringed, knowing the mess would be left for her. “What are you doing?”

“I was wondering when you’d get off the phone,” Neal poked, giving her a quick glance over his shoulder before motioning proudly over the mess that just seemed to get worse each time she looked at it. “I’m cooking.”

The casual way he always stabbed at her phone use was exactly what she didn’t want to hear right now. Maybe she wouldn’t have to spend so much time working if he bothered looking for something himself. He’d had a recurring role on a family comedy when they met, but he’d been fired not long after, and for the last six months, Emma was pretty sure he hadn’t even gone to any of the auditions she’d mentioned. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if he had an agent anymore.

“When was the last time you had a Milky Way?” she asked, choosing to ignore his snide comment. She just wasn’t in the mood.

“That’s a weird question. I don’t know, maybe last week? You didn’t pick any up the last time you ran to the store.”

Emma nodded, her lips drawn tight as she tore paper towels from the rack and returned to the living room, pulling what she could of the melted mass from the couch and thinking she’d need to resort to Google to get the rest out. Her anger bubbled with every sticky string of caramel that wrapped around her fingers. Why couldn’t he go to the store on his day off? He only had seven of them. She stomped back into the kitchen, hitting the garbage can a little harder than necessary and tossing the mess of chocolate and paper inside.

There was just enough room in the overload sink—what had he used the colander for—that she could wash her hands.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge. What was so important that you had to turn the entire kitchen into a complete disaster?” she questioned, already adding up how much time it would take her to wash and wipe everything down.

She’d be lucky if she was able to get back to her manager before tomorrow as requested.

“You remember that travel show we watched the other night?” he prodded, his eyes glued to the pan as it hissed on the stovetop, a spatula held ready in his hand. “You mentioned you hadn’t had good churros since that trip to Mexico, so I thought maybe I’d make you some.”

The anger that had been just about to boil over slipped away to that place far enough below everything else that she could just go back to ignoring it.

“Neal,” she sighed, suddenly more exhausted than anything else. “Thanks.”

“Of course, Ems—anything for you.”

In the living room her phone blared to life, the dark tones of The Imperial March echoing as it vibrated across the coffee table.

“Work calls,” Neal sniped, a trace of resentment running beneath the pleasant smile he fixed in her direction. “Wouldn’t want to keep Regina waiting.”

It was amazing how quickly that anger came right back to the top of everything, and she found her feet pushing her as far away from Neal as possible, snatching her phone from the table and forgetting entirely about the couch as she stormed into the bedroom.

“What?” she hissed, slamming the door behind her and clenching the cell like it was something she wanted to crush. “What is so important that you couldn’t give me a few more hours, Regina?”

The other end of the line was silent, as if Regina had either hung up, or was waiting for an apology. Well, she wasn’t getting one—not today.

“Is there something you needed, Regina?”

“Are you okay?” Regina asked, not as a friend, but as an employee that was curious to know how soon she would have to contact Emma’s PR team and inform them a mental breakdown was imminent.

“I’m fine. It’s just a bad time. I got the details you sent. I just haven’t read through everything yet.”

“Well, that explains why I haven’t heard from you. Honestly, I thought you cared more about your career than that. I was quite clear this was urgent. Don’t take your time with this one, Miss Swan—they want you, but they can’t wait much longer.”

The line went dead after Regina had delivered her scolding and Emma sighed, dropping to the bed and rolling onto her back as she flicked back into her email and started again from the top. It was an interesting premise with even more depth than she’d originally thought—a new series that centered on the mental health of a man who had developed delusions after a car accident that took his brother, leading him to believe everyone in the hospital was a character from a fairy tale world—but then she got the part that Regina really focused on, the money.

“Holy shit!” Emma gasped, double checking the figures and thinking how she’d never seen such a good offer—not for someone in her bracket. It was unheard of. “I guess they really do want me.”

It wasn’t until she read through the rest of the itinerary and details that she wondered if the big paycheck wasn’t recompense for the filming location and duration—the middle of Nowhere, Maine, as if Maine wasn’t already considered the middle of nowhere.

She read everything twice before she shot Regina a quick text.

E: I’ll take it

The message had only just sent and there were already three ellipses following. Emma could practically hear her manager’s smug response.

R: I knew you would. I’ll be in touch.

There should have been nerves fluttering in her stomach, or at least a solid pit of dread at the prospect of having to walk into the kitchen and tell Neal, but there was nothing. It was a big decision to move across the country for what could be a long-term role, but it was still her decision to make.

Hopefully, he would be happy for her, he would understand that this had the potential of lifting her out of her rut and providing great income for the foreseeable future. There were some great names attached, veterans of the industry that were looking to branch out into a new genre.

She was excited for the first time in a long time.

She didn’t need to feel guilty, at least that was what she told herself as a niggling pang of guilt worked its way into her chest.

It would be good to break it to him gently though, to put a good spin on it.

The minutes ticked by and she finally realizing she couldn’t put it off any longer, she wandered into the kitchen, her arms crossed in front of her as she looked for him, but the apartment was empty. The stove was turned off and a plate, probably the last clean one, was waiting on the counter with a pile of golden churros perched on top of a greasy paper towel.

Next to it was another torn paper towel with a note scratched onto it in sharpie.

The boys called and I’m heading out for a few beers. Don’t wait up. Enjoy the churros.

She waited for the anger to bubble back to the top, but there was nothing—no anger, no guilt, just a deep, hollow nothingness that grew and yawned as she fingered the scrap of a note transparent with oily fingerprints. Feeling like maybe this job had come at the best possible time, she picked up the plate of churros and walked over to the trash, watching them slide in with the rest of the garbage.

#Captain Swan #cs ff #cs fanfic #emma and hook #sailtoafarawayland #modern au #actors #the things we don't say

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almostnugget · 4 years ago

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Christmas

Alex Mercer & Friends

Christmas isn’t Alex’s favorite holiday, but he wants to make this Christmas one to remember. So he will — with the help of a cute ghost skater, of course.

Warnings: Holiday Cheer, Mentions of Luke Running Away, Mentions of Reggie’s Parents Fighting, Breaking & Entering

A/N: originally wrote this as part of a fic exchange with some friends! it’s rly just some found family fluff with willex thrown in for good measure. also, posting this as a way of coming back lmao, hi again

Christmas wasn’t Alex’s favorite holiday. In fact, he wasn’t really sure what holiday was his favorite—if he even had one. Holidays could just be kind of stressful sometimes, but he also knew that at the end of the day, it was always just about spending time with the people you love. He liked that part.

Alex, however, knew his bandmates—save for Julie—didn’t like Christmas. He couldn’t blame them for it, either. Luke ran away from his parents around Christmastime, something he never really got over despite what he said. Reggie probably liked the idea of Christmas more than he did the actual holiday. His parents fought constantly and it always got worse in December.

Needless to say, Christmas was an odd time of year for all of them. However, Alex didn’t want it to be.

The boys were pretty much as a dead as a doornail, but they had a second chance and they had Julie now. When the holiday season began to approach, Alex knew his friends might just try to keep their heads down and avoid it all. He didn’t want to do that. After dying, they deserved a break and he was going to make sure they got it.

“Wait, we can’t just…” Alex trailed off as he looked toward the store that he and Willie were stood outside of. He looked over his shoulders at the empty street.

It was late at night, the lamps along the sidewalk lighting up the avenue in golden hues. Garlands strung around just emphasized the time of year.

“That’s stealing,” Alex whispered, earning a laugh from Willie.

“You know we’re dead, right?” Willie responded, nudging the taller boy in the side. Alex grimaced a little, looking back at the store. The lights were off, indicating that it was pretty much close. “You wanna get them gifts, don’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but…” He trailed off, unsure of where he was heading in the first place. It wasn’t like ghosts could get jobs, not that he knew of anyway.

Willie clapped him on the shoulder as Alex shot him a wary glance. As usual, his nerves were on end but the way Willie smiled at him seemed to help.

“Besides, I don’t think this place will miss anything,” Willie added, looking back toward the shop. Capitalism, ya know? Alex took a breath, steadying himself, when he felt Willie’s hand slip into his just like it had back at the museum. Could ghosts get butterflies? “Ready?”

“Yeah,” Alex breathed. With a nod, Willie tugged him into the store. The whole situation felt wildly illegal, but Willie seemed calmer about it. “I have…no idea what to get.”

Shelves were lined with items and Alex was painfully aware that he hadn’t had a plan to begin with. He had an idea, a feeling more like it.

“Dude,” Willie chuckled. “C’mon, we’ll look around.” Their hands still intertwined, Willie began to lead Alex through the store. “What about the girl in your band? Julie? Are we getting something for her too?”

“Yeah, yeah, ‘course,” he replied quickly. “This is for her too. I—I want it to be special.” Alex cleared his throat, worried that didn’t sound right. “I just mean…It’s our first Christmas altogether, after everything. So, I just thought…” he trailed off, nervously trying to avoid Willie’s gaze. He sounded too sentimental, didn’t he? This was weird, wasn’t it?

Willie just smiled, giving him a nod. “Then we’ll find her something too.”

Alex didn’t have to breathe a sigh of relief to feel the subtle weight lift off his shoulders as Willie continued to walk further into the store with him.

“Stall them?” Julie repeated, arching a brow as she looked at Alex over the kitchen counter. “How am I supposed to do that? Why am I supposed to do that?”

Alex fumbled for words, knowing the request sounded strange—all things considered. He hadn’t really told her what he was doing, he was trying to keep it a secret.

“Just for a few hours,” he added, looking at Julie almost imploringly. She sighed a little, shoulders falling. It was increasingly hard to say ‘No’ to any of the boys.

“Okay, okay, I’ll see what I can do,” Julie sighed, noticing the way Alex seemed to light up at her agreement. She was fairly certain she saw a little bit of anxiety leave his ghost body as well. “Can you at least tell me what this is for?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“I think, as your accomplice, I should know,” she hummed, leaning across the counter a little to look at Alex with eyes that were feigning innocence.

He couldn’t help but laugh a little at the notion. “It’s not— You’re not—” He cut himself off, just shaking his head. Stuffing his hands into the pocket of his sweatshirt, he stood up straight. “It’s a surprise.”

“Ooo.”

“Willie and I just need time to set it up and—“

Julie straightened up, a smile overtaking her features. “Willie?” she repeated, waggling her eyebrows slightly. Alex felt his entire face heat up—which shouldn’t have even been possible, why was being a ghost so confusing?

“I need his help, that’s all,” Alex tried to assure her. Julie nodded, tapping her fingers against the counter.

“It’s okay, Alex. You seem happy,” she explained with a shrug before taking a step back. “I’ll try and stall the guys, I guess?”

“Please.” Julie nodded, beginning to move past him. “Oh, wait! Uh—” Alex began to sputter, Julie turning back with furrowed brows. “Where do you keep your decorations?”

Alex didn’t remember wrapping presents being this hard. In his opinion, he was an excellent gift wrapper. Now, he was just sort of rolling his chosen items in decorative paper and wrapping tape around it.

“Is this where you want the lights?”

Alex looked up from his disorganized work station to see Willie standing on a chair, string lights in his hands. He gave a quick nod.

“Yeah, that’ll be fine,” he exhaled shakily. His nerves were getting the best of him again. It felt like he didn’t have enough time or that he wasn’t doing enough somehow. He wanted this event to be perfect, but what if it wasn’t?

“Alex, hey,” Willie called, tone considerably softer as he hopped down from his chair. “Are you alright?” He sounded sincere as he took a seat beside Alex on the couch.

“No, yeah, I’m fine,” Alex tried to say. He ran a hand through his hair, staring at the mess on the coffee table. Finally biting out a sigh, he turned to face the boy beside him. “I meant what I said. I want this to be special.”

Alex wondered if there was a way to possibly convey what he felt. Christmas wasn’t even that important to him, but the notion of what it meant did.

“This is our first Christmas together,” he began, Willie’s eyes watching him carefully. “Luke and Reggie, they— It’s not their favorite holiday, but we still always spent it together, you know? Even with our rhythm guitarist, Bobby. Now we’re dead. And I just—” Alex let out another sigh, shoulders falling. “I want it to be okay. Because we still have each other. We…deserve this.”

There was silence, Alex’s eyes flickering up to meet Willie’s. Willie reached out, hand setting on Alex’s knee. “Then let’s make this a good Christmas, alright?” Willie suggested with a small quirk of his lips. Alex returned the faint smile, his heart feeling marginally lighter as he watched Willie get back to his feet. Willie glanced at the table. “Why do you wrap like that?”

“It’s— The tape, it’s—!”

Willie chuckled, shaking his head as he went back to continue decorating. Alex let out his own laughter, realizing the gift-wrapping was definitely the least of his worries and best case scenario? The guys would be too elated to even notice.

When Julie, Luke, and Reggie returned to the garage—Luke and Reggie actually walking in since they were with Julie—the chatter among them quickly ceased.

The studio was decorated with tinsel and string lights, the occasional garland thrown around for posterity. A two-foot tall tree sat atop the coffee table, mini ornaments dangling from its thin branches. Gift boxes—horrendously wrapped—were scattered around it.

Julie also noticed the distinct scent of gingerbread, even though there were no cookies. Her next assumption was a candle, but she couldn’t see one—which worried her a little because if it was hidden, things might catch fire, but Alex was stood in the center of the studio looking somewhere between nervous and excited so she let it go.

“Surprise…?” Alex announced weakly, gingerly waving his hands.

“Alex? What is all this?” Luke asked, brows furrowed. His expression was hard to read and it only worried Alex further. Reggie was glancing around in awe, so Alex hoped that was a positive thing.

“This was your surprise?” Julie wondered, eyes wide and the ghost of a smile creeping along her face.

“When did it become Christmas?!” Reggie suddenly blurted, looking absolutely and completely bewildered. Ghosts really had no sense of time.

Willie nudged Alex in the side, offering him an encouraging smile. “Do you wanna open your gifts?” Alex questioned, gaze quickly flickering between his friends.

“You got us presents?!” Reggie nearly cried, looking so genuinely stunned that Alex began to once again wonder how he was the emotional one. Luke raised an eyebrow, not saying anything yet.

Julie smiled towards Alex, balancing on the balls of her feet a little. Her brows then furrowed. “Wait…is Willie here?”

“He is,” Alex replied, a little deflated at the fact Julie couldn’t see him. “He helped with the decorations.” He cleared his throat before the silence could fully settle. “So? Gifts?”

His bandmates headed toward the couch, varying degrees of excitement to their stride. Julie wasn’t necessarily excited, but she walked a little lighter now with a smile pulling at her lips. Reggie looked like a kid in a candy store. Luke, though, seemed as if he was still thinking it all over.

Alex hastily went to hand out the gifts to their rightful owners. Reggie tore into his gift immediately.

“Alex!” He gasped excitedly. Tossing the paper aside, he held up the two pairs of socks in his hands. One was adorned with cute dogs, the other with cute cats. He instantly began to kick off his shoes to replace the socks already on his feet.

“Reg, no,” Luke started, shaking his head and trying to take the socks away. “No one wants to see your feet—”

“Open your own gift!” Reggie exclaimed, batting Luke’s hands away. They began mildly roughhousing, Luke trying to snatch the socks, as Julie attempted to ignore them and open her own gift.

“It’s a planner,” Alex stated as Julie unearthed the set of notebooks. “And a journal! I couldn’t really decide which you’d like better, so I thought you’d just like both?”

Julie smiled fondly, opening the planner to note the cute positive quotes that accompanied each day. “Alex, this is so nice. Thank you,” she replied, glancing up at him.

Alex returned the look, feeling better with his gift choice now. He gave a glance towards Willie, Willie smiling slightly in return. When a pair of socks flew across the room, Reggie scrambling after them, Alex looked back toward Luke.

Luke sighed a little, beginning to unwrap it. Pulling out a hoodie, Luke turned it over in his hands as Alex noticed the slight quirk of his lips. Whatever apprehension he had began to fall away.

“Sweet,” Luke exhaled, deciding he was particularly fond of the clothes. He looked up at Alex. “Thanks man, really.”

“Oh, you’re gonna actually wear something with sleeves?” Reggie remarked from across the studio, clearly a little upset about the fact his new socks had been thrown from the couch.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” The others in the garage glanced toward Luke’s very exposed arms. “Hey!”

“Wear sleeves and maybe we wouldn’t have to say anything,” Julie mused, continuing to thumb through her newfound planner.

Chuckling, Alex put his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket as he watched his friends interact. Suddenly, Julie turned her attention to him.

“So, why all this?”

“Oh, uh,” Alex stammered, looking between his bandmates. “It’s our first Christmas together, so I thought that…I just wanted it to be good. We’re all together, and that’s the point.”

Julie smiled softly, looking over at the boys. Reggie stopped focusing on his newfound socks to look at Alex, practically beaming. “I did say you guys were my family. And I meant it!” He remarked, definitely leaning into this newfound twist on the holiday. It wasn’t perfect, but none of them were either.

Alex shifted his attention to Luke. “It is good, Alex,” he admitted, Alex breaking into a smile. “Seriously. Though, you really can’t wrap, huh?”

“The tape!” Alex shot back. “And the scissors, it was just—”

“You were bested by tape?” Reggie asked, brows furrowing as he looked at Alex. “Dude.”

“Just enjoy your gifts!” Alex huffed, before realizing the problem. He whirled around to face Willie. “I forgot to get you a gift! I’m so sorry, I completely forgot I didn’t even—”

“Alex, it’s fine,” Willie chuckled, reaching out to set his hands on the taller boy’s shoulders. “Really.”

Brushing past him, Willie moved towards the door as Alex followed. “I’m still so sorry. I should’ve gotten you something or even—”

“Alex,” Willie said, effectively hushing him. Alex stopped before he could evolve into full-blown rambling. A smile tugged at Willie’s lips. “I spent practically the entire day with you. I think that qualifies as a gift.”

“Oh.”

“Are you talking to Willie?” Julie suddenly cut in, the pair glancing over at them. She even managed to catch Luke and Reggie’s attention.

“Yeah,” Alex responded, nodding toward the ghost in front of him—even if Julie couldn’t see him.

Julie smiled suddenly. “Well…” She trailed off, eyes flickering upward at the plant hung above the door before she looked back to her planner.

Alex glanced back at Willie, any adequate response dying in his throat. The knowing smile on Willie’s face seemed to tell Alex that he had done this, which only flustered the drummer further.

“What were you saying about getting me a gift?” Willie asked, a trace of mischief lacing his tone. Alex stammered for a response, before letting out a nervous chuckle.

Alex ducked his head, connecting his lips to Willie’s in a kiss that felt all too short afterward. It was short, but ultimately sweet and it brought all of Alex’s nerves back in an instant—though this was entirely different.

“I’ll see you later, Hotdog,” Willie said with a smile after they broke apart. Alex couldn’t even properly say goodbye as Willie left, his brain practically short circuiting.

Luke let out a whistle that snapped Alex out of his thoughts. “Guess it is a pretty good Christmas,” Reggie teased, arms crossed over his chest as Alex failed to hide the bashful smile on his face.

Christmas wasn’t his favorite holiday, but he still definitely enjoyed it.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #alex mercer #willex #sunset curve #jatp fic #jatp fanfic #luke patterson #reggie peters #julie molina

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ericsonclan · 4 years ago

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A Gift From The Heart

Summary: Nurgul goes cloud watching with Oakley and decides to give them a surprise gift.

Word Count: 1756

Read on AO3:

Nurgul was in the midst of nursing her daughter Maria in the courtyard when she felt a light poking at her elbow. She turned round to see Oakley standing there, the same unreadable expression on their face as always. Her friend’s hazel eyes studied her curiously. “Cloud time,”

“Oh, right! I’ll be done here in just a minute then I can meet you at our regular spot, k?”

Oakley nodded in understanding and walked off without another word.

Nurgul glanced down at her baby daughter. “Looks like we’ll have to find someone else for you to spend time with for a while,” She walked into her house, wondering if anyone was at home. Gabe was off working on dock repair, Luka was in school, Santi had a shift at the library… “Javi!” Nurgul smiled brightly at the man as he sat at the kitchen table idly perusing a half-done crossword puzzle. “Maria, your great uncle Javi will be watching over you for the next hour or two,”

“Please, just ‘uncle’ is fine,” Javi quipped, reaching up to take the baby. As Maria was taken from her mother’s arms, she began to cry but soon adjusted as Javi began rocking her and making funny faces to keep the baby entertained. Javi smiled over at Nurgul. “Go on, we got this,”

“Thanks!” With that Nurgul headed out toward the meeting point, her grey knit cardigan swaying behind her as she walked. She and Oakley had a weekly tradition of meeting up atop the library in Haven’s Landing and cloud watching together. It was a way for them to get away from the general hubbub of life and just be for a while. Sometimes Nurgul would lead the conversation and chit chat about this or that and other times the pair would be completely silent, simply enjoying the sight of the clouds and the feeling of the fresh air brushing against their skin.

Taking the stairs, Nurgul headed for the roof, pausing for a moment to wave to Santiago before continuing her climb to the top. The library tended to be quiet and was close to the house: the perfect place for a meet up. As Nurgul approached the top of the stairs she saw that the door to the roof had been left open. Oakley was already up there.

Emerging onto the roof, Nurgul had a quick look around. It was a peaceful day in Haven’s Landing. The river just outside the community flowed peacefully and she could spot Gabe’s beanie as he led a crew in fixing up the docks. Guards on the walls and the ground kept watch for muertos or slinkers as they were called in these parts. Nurgul had heard many names for them but all of the dead were the same. Thankfully the residents of Haven’s Landing kept the resident slinker population in check. There would be no breaches on their watch.

“Found one,” Oakley’s words had Nurgul turning her head to look at her friend who was lying spread eagle on the roof. “It looks like an owl,”

Nurgul walked over and lay down beside her friend to see which cloud they were referring too. “Hmmmm, you mean that one on the right?”

“Yep,”

The pair fell into companionable silence. Nurgul watched the clouds drift slowly through the sky. It was a really good cloud watching day. The clouds were big and puffy, mixtures of shadow and light that looked like any number of things. From time to time she would point one out for a moment, noting that one cloud looked like a bunny or another looked like a pillow. Oakley would simply nod most times, sometimes offering an alternate interpretation of what the cloud was, then they would return to their own private thoughts.

It had gotten to that point where time started to melt and lose its meaning when all of a sudden Oakley’s stomach loudly rumbled. Both of them glanced down at the source of the noise.

“Did you have breakfast today?” Nurgul rooted in her pocket, wondering if she had something in there to offer.

“Had some eggs. Wasn’t too hungry,” Oakley looked down at their hands which were spread across their stomach as though to quiet it. “Wish there was granola,”

“As soon as we have oats again, I’ll make some more with you,” Nurgul promised. Baking with Oakley was always fun, especially granola. Oakley’s eyes lit up for the treat in a way they did for almost nothing else. Unfortunately though there were a lot of ingredients needed to make granola so their instances of baking it were few and far between.

Nurgul looked over at her friend thoughtfully. “In all the years I’ve known you I’ve never asked. Why granola? Why is it your favorite food?”

Oakley shrugged. “Tastes good,” They were silent for some time and Nurgul thought they were done when they suddenly continued. “My dad used to make it,”

She’d never heard Oakley mention their family before. All Nurgul knew was they’d been on their own since age nine. She was hesitant to ask more but curious. “Those are good memories then? Having granola with your family?”

Oakley nodded. “Dad said it was a healthy snack, so he made it every week. We had it for breakfast too. Constance always wanted it sweeter,”

Their older sister. Nurgul had heard her mentioned before. A certain light danced in Oakley’s eyes whenever they mentioned her. Nurgul waited patiently to see if her friend would say any more, but it looked like Oakley was done. Speaking of the past had Nurgul thinking of her own as well. “My mom and I would bake together a lot. Looking back, I guess it was mostly her baking and finding ways for me to help, but I still loved it. We made bowersak pretty often. I used to love watching the dough puff up and go all golden when she put it in the oil,”

Oakley looked over with interest. Nurgul had made the fried dough before in the spring to celebrate Nauryz and they’d quite enjoyed it for its warmth and light crunch.

Nurgul smiled at her friend’s receptiveness. “Would you like me to make bowersak again sometime?”

“Yes,” Oakley turned to look back at the clouds then paused. “Please,”

“I’d be happy to make you some,” Nurgul returned to cloud watching, her thoughts now on food. Bowersak was easy to make: just dough and hot oil. Granola was another story. They’d need oats, honey, seeds, dried fruit, some vanilla bean if they were extra lucky… hopefully the bowersak would in its own small way fulfill Oakley’s craving for something crunchy and sweet. She wished there was more she could do though, a way to bring that same joy to Oakley’s eyes they had whenever remembering the granola of their past. Perhaps…Nurgul began to make a mental checklist. She could do that. She’d make it a surprise though. She loved surprises.

It was a few weeks later when Nurgul found Oakley doing their own cloudgazing in the tiny courtyard that connected their living quarters with the main house. Nurgul walked up slowly, wanting to make sure not to startle them. “Got a minute, Oakley?”

Oakley didn’t respond at first but eventually glanced over Nurgul’s way. “Wanna join?”

“Actually, I have a surprise I wanted to share with you. It’s a gift that I made. Not food,” Nurgul quickly added as Oakley turned their head in interest. “But it is food related,”

Oakley sat up, their expression unreadable. They probably didn’t know what to expect. Nurgul held out a parcel she’d wrapped in butcher paper and decorated with a piece of twine she’d dyed with huckleberries. Oakley accepted to the parcel, shaking it experimentally. The package flopped back and forth in their hands. Pulling the twine, Oakley let the butcher paper fall open and reveal their gift.

It was a black t-shirt, the sort that used to be made back before the world fell apart. Originally it had been blank, but now the front was covered in embroidery. A large granola bar had been embroidered upon the shirt, various shades of brown, yellow and beige used to emulate the texture. It also had the outline of a wrapper along its lower half, the edges of the wrapper a shiny silver as though the granola bar had just been opened and was about to be savored. Across the top, the word “GRANOLA” had been embroidered in all caps using a bright yellow thread.

Nurgul watched her friend’s face attentively, hoping to capture some glimpse of emotions to know what Oakley thought of the gift.

She got more than she had hoped for. Oakley’s eyes were bright with joy, but that wasn’t all. A smile pulled at their lips, something that only appeared once in a blue moon. They held the shirt up, letting the wrapping paper fall to the side, and began to happily rock back and forth, their eyes locked on the embroider shirt. A happy little tone steadily fell from their lips as they cradled the shirt.

“I take it you like it then?” Nurgul asked with a smile. She’d never seen such a strong reaction from Oakley before.

Oakley pulled the shirt over their head, looking down at it in awe. “I’ll wear it forever,”

“Well, I hope you let me wash it from time to time, but besides that you can wear it as much as you want. I wasn’t sure if you’d like it since it’s not actual granola, but it looks like it was a hit!”

“It’s perfect,” Oakley murmured, their fingers tracing the embroidery reverently.

“I’m glad. I wanted to give you something special to help you remember those special times with your family you told me about and just to celebrate you being you, Oakley Emerson,”

“Knox,”

“What was that?”

“You can call me Knox,” The look in Oakley’s eyes had a depth as they held Nurgul’s gaze. It was clear this was something important to them, something secret, perhaps sacred,”

“Knox,” Nurgul nodded, a small smile crossing her lips. “Thank you for telling me,”

Oakley nodded, holding her eyes for a second longer before they turned their attention back to their shirt. They were happy, perhaps happier than Nurgul had ever seen them. That was more than she had ever expected a simple shirt to accomplish. She watched in quiet contentment as Oakley admired the gift, both of them lost in the timelessness of a perfect happy moment.

#twdg #twdg nurgul #twdg oakley #nurgul oakley brotp #fanfic

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mothpylon · 5 years ago

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Zone 5 Quarantine Fair!

@killjoynest

beginning | escape

it’s still day one okay? 11:47pm? still counts. yes i am writing each of these day by day i have no planning skills

The zones are... okay, most of the time. Usually they’re bearable, if you get past the sand in your boots and the blistering sunburn on your hands and your neck. Sometimes they’re even beautiful, but that’s rare; that’s on the golden impossible evenings when everyone comes back from a clap fine, when you’re driving too fast with the sunset behind you, high on the last traces of adrenaline.

Other times, though, they’re the closest thing you can get to hell, if you believe in it. The sun is malicious, and the air is dead. Maybe there’s a bird or two wheeling in the sky, black against the relentless, burning blue, but if there is, you don’t want to know what it’s wheeling over, what it’s found this time.

It’s hell today.

Nothing’s wrong, particularly, nothing’s bad, but Ghoul feels sick to his stomach as he stares at the sun on the sand outside. He hates the feeling, how guilty he feels that nothing’s even wrong, nothing bad’s happened for once, that he should be so grateful for that. For just one day of quiet, instead of the chance of another clap goin’ Costa Rica, instead of another piece of bad luck hitting them in the head like a rock thrown at a crow.

Instead his skin crawls, and he can feel the heartbeat in his throat, feel the shaky buzz of unwelcome restlessness and maybe caffeine and a bit of fear (the fear that never really leaves, even when it does).

He tosses the wrench he’s holding to the floor and pulls himself out from under the Trans-Am, wipes his hands on his shitty jeans (it probably makes them even dirtier, but it’s the thought that counts.) The garage, if it even passes for a garage, is connected to the diner, thank gods, and he’s grateful at not having to go out into the dead heat. The diner’s quiet; Kobra’s out with Destroya knows who, (Ghoul has a suspicion it’s the freak from the Suitehearts, Sandman, or something like that.), and Jet’s out back with the Girl, probably teaching her how to drive a car or shoot straight or throw an uppercut or something. Poison’s sitting on top of one of the tables, cross-legged, with their back against the window and the sunlight spilling around them. They have a cigarette dangling from a corner of their mouth and a notebook in their lap, and as Ghoul watches, they viciously tear a piece of paper out and throw it violently across the room.

He wanders over to them, pulls the notebook out of their hands and idly flips through it. Sketches, mostly, in dull pencil and scratchy pen, but he wouldn’t look if he didn’t know Poison was okay with it. (They are, of course, you can’t just live with Ghoul for gods know how many years and be immune to his curiosity. He’s like the Girl’s cat or something, the way he finds interesting things.) He closes the notebook and sets it on the table.

“S’pretty.”

Poison makes an irritated noise and glares at the crumpled-up paper on the other side of the room.

Ghoul leans forward, catching their face in his hands. There’s strands of hair falling out of their messy bun, curling around their face in a halo of lipstick-red.

“You’re pretty.”

Poison hums and leans down, kisses Ghoul long and slow and lazy. He can feel the itchy, crawly feeling evaporate at their touch.

He pulls away first, reluctantly, and links his arms around their neck. “Run away with me.”

Poison huffs and bumps their foreheads together. “Already done that, sugar.” Those are... worse memories, though. Full of black and white and red, but the wrong red.

Ghoul shrugs. “Again. Let’s escape. Run away. I just fixed the Trans-Am, ‘n I gotta see if she works right now.”

A slow smile spreads its way across their face. “Anytime. ‘S the Witch after ya again or somethin’?”

He snorts and shakes his head. “Feels like it.”

Poison make a noise that’s somewhere between sadness and understanding, (not sympathy though, they both despise the idea of sympathy) and bury their head in the place where his shoulder meets his neck, press a firm kiss to the skin there. Then they sigh, slide off the table, “M’gonna get my jacket?”

Ghoul grins, scar tugging at the side of his face. “I’ll start the car.”

It’s still the closest thing from hell, today. Still full of stagnant air and malicious heat and the ghosts of every ‘joy who’s been offed there. It still weighs on him with the dead weight of fear and loathing. But, he thinks, if there’s just one thing that fixes it, it’s this. They’re speeding down Route Guano (Ghoul isn’t quite sure the brakes are perfectly fixed yet, but that doesn’t matter), and every window is open, flooding the car with a wind that picks up every crumpled magazine page and empty wrapper, looks at them, and tosses them in the air.

He thinks there must be some fucking magic, some spell the Witch cast a million years ago, that makes everything more beautiful and less terrifying when you’re looking at it in your rearview mirror. That if you drive for hours and hours and hours, with the dashboard for your altar and the cracked asphalt for your sacraments and the staticky noise of acoustic guitar through the stereo as a blessing, you can escape everything.

He thinks that there must be some rule that someone wrote, that if you sit on top of a souped-up hot rod with your best friend in the blessed half-hour before sunset, when the sky’s still blue and gold, but it’s gentle, not cruel, that if you lean back and drop your head against the painted steel roof and get dizzy for a moment looking at the sky, everything will, in that moment, be good to you. That if you roll over and watch your lover staring, entranced, at the sunset with freckles in their eyes and the red-purple of the sky bleeding into their hair, that maybe, just maybe, you can escape everything.

#fuck this got long #zone 5 quarantine fair #funpoison #danger days #all i do is write soft shit eat hot chip n lie #scribbles

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dragonrajafanfiction · 4 years ago

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Dragon Dancer IV: Torn Apart

The injury to my eye was severe and required immediate treatment. My main concern, however, was my daughter Ru’Yi who was still sleeping in my arms despite my moans and tears as I lay against the back of the luxury Buick, staining the fine leather with my wet clothes.

Despite my pain, I still managed to snarl at the driver from the Crane group. “I swear if this is another trap, I will kill all of you in an instant!”

The driver looked into the rearview mirror. “It’s not a trap. Lancelot was a step ahead of our friend Crow. Crow had planned to trap the hunting group on another ship, but this was not the real hunting group with him, but a decoy and that traitor Shinnosuke.”

The driver’s eyes shifted to Chu Zihang and he swallowed. “This is the truth. I am not lying.”

My husband, Chu Zihang, hadn’t said a word since our rescue. He sat stiffly in the back of this vehicle, hand on the hilt of Tongzi, golden eyes fixed on the driver. He sat upright and still, like a serpent prepped to strike, like a bullet in the chamber. At the slightest hint of danger, the driver would be dead and Chu Zihang would allow him to explain himself in the afterlife.

As soon as we reached the hospital, he ushered Ru’Yi and I away. My black trenchcoat, displaying the vibrant Japanese painting style of Ukiyo-e on the lining, branded us as elites of the Japanese underworld and we were given immediate priority by the doctor.

The news wasn’t good. The hot metal had done severe damage to my left eye. They could give me ointment and gauze to see if it healed on its own, but if the eye continued to deteriorate, it would have to be removed.

Johann took Ru’Yi with him while the doctor looked at me.

He returned with three granola bars and a small cup of coffee. I tore open the wrapper and crunched into them, silent. He’d changed into a simple t-shirt and jeans and Ru’Yi was clean, warm, dry and sleeping in a car seat. He watched me eat while I sat on the examination table.

“Lu Mingfei was here with Nono. Nono is in surgery now. They’re still not sure if she’ll make it.” He said.

I looked up, eyes wide, appetite gone. “Where’s Mingfei?”

“The Crane group spotted him at a café. I’ll catch up with him there. And there’s something else. Ru’Yi’s dragonblood awakened on the ship.”

I gasped, readied myself to jump down but Johann stopped me. “What? How do you know?”

“She didn’t react to my eyes, in fact, she stared into them very calmly. Do you know how it happened?” Johann’s eyes had reverted back to their golden color and he was back to wearing his sunglasses.

I thought back, remembering. “Oh... those immortals. They sang the sacred words of Imperium. The Dark Kings Speech.”

“I’ve heard of only one hybrid awakened so young. Code-named Key. Not much is known about him other than the fact that he opened the gate under the Three Gorges Dam when he was about her age.”

“They can use Soul Skills that early?” I was astounded.

He nodded once. “Her soul skill will be revealed once she’s exposed to the right environment. But she won’t be able to control it. It will go off on instinct.”

“Okay...” I let out a breath.

Zihang reached over and squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll get more supplies with Mingfei and we’ll see about getting out of here.”

----------------------------

Mingfei picked me up from the hospital in Crow’s red sports car. He opened the rear passenger door. When he looked into my eyes, neither of us said anything. Lu Mingfei had made good on his promise to bring Chu Zihang back but it had come at a price none of us could have possibly imagined.

There was time pressure to get out of Tokyo, but Lu Mingfei took us back out to the shore, to a long embankment. We got out of the car and walked as far as we could, just above the water.

Police boats were on heavy patrol after the chaos last night but no one cared about three people and a baby standing outside watching the ocean on a warm spring morning.

In the distance, the wreckage of a large ship bobbed in the waves, and somewhere out there, was also the body of a girl.

I looked up at Chu Zihang. The tears rolled down his face in silence.

He was no doubt remembering her.

“Zihang...” I said, quietly. “There’s only so much time to lay awake at night and remember things. Tell me what you want to remember. Between the both of us, we won’t forget. When did you first meet her?”

“On the train.” He said simply. Then he added. “She had a ponytail and dark rimmed glasses. She held her skirt because she was nervous.”

“The enrollment form was complicated. I figured she would need help with it. So I asked her. I found out that her English wasn’t fluent. So I decided to keep helping her, since mine was better.”

“She said she was nervous because she was on a train full of monsters. I said... Here when a monster meets a monster, it’s a relative.”

“After we got off the train, things were chaotic if you didn’t understand where to go. I didn’t know either but I could ask. I told her to wait for me. I would go ask someone. I took too long. By the time I got back, she looked sad like I had left her alone...”

He stopped talking, overcome. His jaw clenched and a soft painful sigh escaped him.

“We sat next to each other in class at times. Sometimes had lunch. She would cheer for me in rowing.”

“She seemed like such a reliable person. When I found the secret of the Blood Rage technique, I couldn’t talk to anyone about it... but I really wanted to.”

“When I saw her reading books in the library, I said to myself. You can tell her. I just gave her my notes. Told her to read it for herself and not tell others.”

“We didn’t discuss it again.”

He looked back up over the waves. “She remembered me in the end. She thanked me. I don’t know for what.” His shoulders lifted.

“She took care of me, while you were gone.” I whispered. “Even when everyone acted like I was crazy... she was always kind to me. She held my hand.”

“We should go.” Zihang abruptly turned away and walked back to the car. Whatever else he was remembering, he wasn’t going to share.

I didn’t follow him. Instead, I turned to Mingfei. “How’s Nono?”

“ICU.” He said roughly. He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you guys are alright.”

“We can’t leave her here...” I shook my head.

“We don’t have any choice. The people from the Crane group said that we have a few hours at most before Kaguya goes down. And that was over an hour ago. We have to move now and she can’t be moved now.”

“Who’s going to protect her?” I asked.

“Caesar. As soon as we can, we get in touch with him. He’s not going to take what they’ve done lightly.”

“Is he on our side?” I pursed my lips in doubt.

He chuckled, waving his hand and going back to the car. “He’s on his own side.”

Lu Mingfei drove like a mad man through the Tokyo streets. The moment Kaguya was breached, EVA’s electronic tentacles would penetrate all major networks in Japan at the speed of light, whether it was emails, bank accounts, transportation systems, or even customs. All of them would fall under her domain.

The Tokyo Port Authority had clamped down on sea routes and now our best bet was the airport. So long as Kaguya was up, she would cover our trail.

After that? None of us were sure with the exception of Chu Zihang. After we got in the car he looked at Lu Mingfei and said, “They deceived her. And then they killed her.”

For him, the mission was simple: Destroy those behind Susie’s death.

Lu Mingfei slammed on the brakes, throwing me against my seatbelt. bumper to bumper traffic blocked our path. “What’s going on? Is it an accident?”

“It’s a little crazy.” Lu leaned out the window to see ahead.

We were only a mile from the airport but everything was stopped. “Zihang can you ch-”

“All the lights are red on the expressway.” On the supply run, he’d acquired a smart phone. I wasn’t sure it was wise, but as the president of Lionheart, his hacking and security skills were beyond my comprehension.

“Shit...” Mingfei hissed. “EVA’s early.”

Zihang’s golden eyes shifted like a knife to his throat. “Not around the baby.”

“Sorry... sorry...” He muttered.

“What are we going to do? They’re probably on their way here now!” I said, referring to the new group sent to hunt us down.

“We can’t just run it... we would barely make it in time and then would still have to go through the security checks.”

A few nerve wracking seconds later, the phone rang. It was a car phone. This really was an antique.

We all stared at it, then glanced at each other. Lu Mingfei pressed the answer button but no one spoke.

“Don’t be scared. It’s me.” The caller’s voice was hoarse and sounded very tired.

“Crow!” I exclaimed smiling.

Ru’Yi immediately stirred, her dark eyes blinking open.

“Saeki.. it’s Saeki...” He started coughing.

“Are you okay...?”

“How’s my princess?”

“She’s alright. She... just woke up.”

“I’m glad you made it, man. You had me worried.” Lu Mingfei sighed. “We’re stuck in traffic. Can you give us a hand?”

“Yeah... and... I’m sorry to say... I didn’t make it, actually. They got me.”

I leaned back, feeling drained and empty with shock. “Oh... no... I told you...” I hung my head looking at little Ru’Yi who was searching the room for her Uncle Crow.

“Fujiwara Shinnosuke,” said Crow. “That guy is from the Gattuso family. I didn’t see that the Gattuso family were against Mrs. Chen. Be careful and kill him when you see him. Don’t give him any leeway. His Soul Skill is Time Zero.”

“Time Zero?” I whispered, head lifting.

“What do you mean against Ms. Chen? You mean, the Gattusos want to kill her?!” Lu Mingfei gripped the steering wheel in horror.

“That’s exactly what I mean...”

“I left her at the hospital! Crow!”

“Got it... got it... I’ll send someone. Meantime, I can see your location. I’ll direct you to a small private airstrip. One of my guys will fly you out.”

I buried my face in my hands, sobbing in the back seat. “Crow...I told you... if you die now, Ru’Yi won’t remember you!”

“I know... But it’s okay. My own dad will forget me too... but don’t you worry. Her being alive, that’s all I care about.”

“I can’t repay you for this.” Zihang said softly.

“No need. It was my pleasure.” He coughed. “Oh Mingfei... I want to leave a phone number for you. Write it down. When you’re stuck again. Call it.”

He quickly scribbled down the number and then banged the steering wheel in helpless fury. He settled his head on it, fighting tears.

“Not far ahead of you, there’s a fork off the highway, take it and keep driving until you see a private driveway. The plane is there.”

Lu Mingfei tilted his head out the window, shouting in Japanese that I was pregnant and in labor and needed to get off the highway.

The cars ahead suddenly shifted to allow us to use the shoulder and take the exit. After getting off, it turned out to be an unmarked service road not shown on the map. The car roared to top speed and soon we saw the private tarmac that was surrounded by a barbed wire fence.

“Yes! Okay, everyone out!”

“Are you still there?” Crow asked.

“Yeah! I’m here!”

“The plane’s blue and white, with the picture of a bird on the tail. Right?”

“Yeah! That’s it... Crow...” Mingfei’s voice choked up. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey... pull it together. Only Carli’s allowed to cry now.” He gave a low groaning cough, his voice growing strained. “The plane’s too small to fly far so you’ll have to make new arrangements when you land. As soon as you get on, he’s authorized to fly without delay. Time’s a bit tight. This is all I can do.”

“It’s more than enough.” He said shakily.

I turned and unbuckled Ru’Yi taking the child seat with me.

“Carli.”

I stopped when Crow addressed me.

“There’s more in the back. Stuff for you.”

I covered my face with my hand. “Crow... I’m going to miss you.” I whimpered. I took a deep breath and slid the rest of the way out of the car with Ru’Yi.

Zihang got out and circled around and gave me a tight all encompassing hug. I buried my tears in his shoulder.

He whispered directly in my ear. “I know you care about Crow. But he’s been compromised too many times and now he’s dead.”

I looked up at him, unsure about what he was saying.

“I’m not going to trust his pilot.” He looked at me directly, his eyes dry.

I stared stunned. He was right. “Can you fly the plane?”

“The model is old. But I’ve flown something like this before. I can do it.” He turned as Mingfei shut the door and tossed the keys in the front seat.

“Yeah?” Mingfei blinked at him.

“I’m flying it.” Johann strode toward the plane that had lowered it’s stairs.

“Eh? But!”

“Here, help me with Ru’Yi’s things!” I told him. “Hurry!”

In the trunk were more diapers and toys and other things. I had a hard time keeping my composure but managed to only sob once or twice.

By the time we had boarded, Johann had the pilot at sword point. His arms were up and he watched us board with clear and open terror. “Please just... just put the sword down... I’ll get off.”

I settled Ru’Yi’s child carrier in the airplane seat.

“Hey, Zihang, that’s enough...” Mingfei was saying.

I looked up in time to see the man backing away toward the door of the plane, chased by the point of Tongzi. Johann turned to go to the cockpit.

Mingfei went to shut the door. His eyes widened and a shot rang out. Blood spattered and stained the cheap upholstery.

Chu Zihang was out of the cockpit unnaturally fast, pursuing the pilot. I rushed to the door and knelt next to Mingfei who was on the ground and screaming as if he were being burned alive.

The bullet had entered his arm, just above his elbow, but there was enough blood to suggest a chest wound. The flesh around where the bullet had entered seemed to dissolved and soften.

Zihang returned, Tongzi dripping red on the floor. He took one look at Mingfei and hissed. “He used a Sage Stone bullet! Give me Spider Fang!”

Without a second thought, I handed the sword to him. He drew it, lifted Mingfei’s hand, and severed his arm above the elbow. I howled in horror at the sight as he tossed it away.

“Get the first aid kit, there should be a tourniquet.” He knelt next to him and squeezed his arm, putting full pressure on it.

I scrambled for the kit and found it in the bright red box and returned. Zihang opened it and found the leather strap and began to tie it tight around his arm. By now, Mingfei had lost enough blood so that he was pale and shaking.

“We’ve got to take off. Get him to use Don’t Die, Meixiu. And after that, use Release to lower his dragon blood purity.”

He pushed past me to the cockpit.

I looked into his eyes. “Mingfei... Mingfei... you have to say it with me. Don’t Die. Don’t Die.”

He moaned, gasping for air. “Erii....”

The plane started to turn and then immediately accelerated.

“Don’t Die... Mingfei say it... Say it... Please...”

The plane lifted off, tilted up at a high angle of attack, speeding into the air.

Denial filled me. If he died, it was over, it was all over. This world would never change. I’d be hunted forever. Ru’Yi would be hunted forever. Her daughter and her daughter after her. “Don’t Die... Don’t Die...!”

I suddenly heard Ru’Yi’s yell. It rang like a bell in my head and I turned, but she was just in her child carrier.

When I looked back, Mingfei’s Soul Skill had taken effect. He was healing. “Yes... Yes!” I swallowed hard. “Release.”

I didn’t want hurt him too much. But Sage stones were more effective the higher ones Dragonblood purity. Mingfei was too weak to even cry out as I forced him from S-ranked hybrid all the way down to B rank. His eyes slid shut and he lay still.

I sat back on my hands, covered in blood. I watched his chest until I saw it rise.

#Dragon Raja #Fanfiction #Writing #Lu Mingfei #Mingfei Lu #Luminous #Chu Zihang #Johann chu

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keelywolfe · 5 years ago

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SOS Drabbles: Take Two and Call Me In the Morning

Note: Actually, take three.

Like everyone else in the world right now, I'm stuck at home with my anxiety dancing around like oil on a hot skillet. Aside from everything else, it's affecting my writing and so, I decided I was going to make this collection of drabbles and just try to have some fun. Not stress too much about making them perfect or agonizing over titles, nothing but enjoying.

Thanks for reading this series as long as you have, everyone, I really appreciate it and I love sharing it with you all

So, here’s three drabbles for our boys. Enjoy!

Part of the ‘By Any Other Name’ series

Read them on AO3

Read them here!

~~*~~

Chapter 1: Boo-boos

The front door opening was unexpected, but Edge finished wiping off the shelf he was dusting before he spoke.

“You weren’t outside for long—” Edge began, turning to look. The rest of the words froze on his tongue, hastily discarded for, “What happened??”

“it’s not that bad,” Stretch tried even as Edge rushed to his side, hands hovering over his husband as he tried to decide where to start. There were scrapes and bruises blossoming on his bones from the crown of his skull all the way down to the torn-out knees of his pants. Beads of marrow were welling up and was that a tiny piece of gravel nearly embedded into Stretch forehead?

“Your definition of not that bad could use some work!” Edge snapped as he helped Stretch over to the sofa and what a pair they made, Stretch wounded and him with his leg still in a walking cast, both of them limping along in the world’s worst three-legged race.

Stretch made a feeble noise of protest as Edge pushed him down. “i’ll mess up the cushions!”

“I’ll worry about that later.” Edge shifted to sit on the coffee table across from his husband, absently noting the faint tremble in his hand as he lightly touched the worst scrape. Stretch was right, it really wasn’t that bad, but seeing his love hurt when not twenty minutes ago he’d been cheerily running out the front door left him a little shaken.

Stretch only sat and allowed Edge to check him over, obediently tipping his skull this way and that as Edge scrutinized the injuries. “There’s no cracks,” Edge said at last. “Only a few scrapes.”

“see, i told you—” Stretch trailed off as Edge swung a Look at him. “babe, I’ll be fine.”

“You will,” Edge agreed, stripping off his gloves. He gingerly settled a hand over the nasty scrape on Stretch forehead, felt the dampness of marrow smearing his palm. He took a long, slow breath, let it out. Healing magic still didn’t come easily to him, but Stretch couldn’t heal himself and he wasn’t about to let his love suffer even from little hurts. Nor was he going to call Blue over something so minor. He could do this.

He closed his sockets, focusing. Under his hand, he felt Stretch wince as his hand heated with green magic, but when Edge opened his sockets and removed his hand, the only thing left of the wound was the dappled spots of marrow.

He leaned down to start on Stretch’s scraped knees. “Were you going to tell me what happened?”

From the way Stretch was squirming, Edge guessed he was hoping he’d forgotten that part of the question.

Finally, Stretch sighed. “okay, so, i was outside playing with the kids.”

“yes, with the other twelve-year olds, go on.”

“and oscar brought along his skateboard."

Edge paused. “You didn’t.”

A ruddy flush rose in Stretch’s cheek bones, blotchy and orange. “i wasn’t that bad at it!”

“All the evidence indicates otherwise.” Edge shook his head. He loved his husband with every pulse of his soul, but he truly was one of the least coordinated Monsters he’d ever met. Bad depth perception did not make for grace.

“yeah, well,” Stretch slumped back against the sofa cushions. “i was doing okay but there was a hole in the road and i couldn’t figure out how to turn.”

“I see.” Edge laid a gentle hand on each of Stretch’s knees and focused. “And it didn’t occur to you to shortcut away?”

“sure it did,” Stretch gasped, trying not to squirm away from the heat of the healing. ”after i hit the ground.”

“Hm.” Knees healed, Edge leaned back and looked Stretch over critically. The worst of the bruises were fading and the rest could heal on their own. He plucked a tissue from the box on the table and dabbed away the drying marrow on Stretch’s forehead, then leaned in to press a light kiss to it. “There, all better.”

“thanks, doc,” Stretch gave him a lopsided smile, “gonna kiss all my boo-boos?”

“Of course,” Edge told him with all seriousness.

Stretch’s smile widened and he pointed at his mouth, “think i got one right here.”

His soft laughter was caught against Edge’s mouth as he kissed him, melting into a sigh. There was a particular sort of healing in a kiss, one not for the bones but for the soul, and Edge was going to give his love as many as he could.

-fin

Chapter 2: Preservation

Of all the love affairs in Stretch’s life, the one that endured the longest, through all the best and worst of times, was his deep, unbidden affection for junk food.

Look, he loved Edge’s cooking, seriously, he really did. When his baby really got going, he sure knew how to put on the Ritz, whether it was muffins or meatloaf, stirring up pancakes or a pan sauce, it was always delicious.

But man, sometimes you gotta have a different kind of Ritz, the cracker kind. Sometimes the craving for artificial yellow #5 couldn’t be denied and Stretch had a stash of goodies hidden away in the pantry, back behind the bags of whole wheat flour and sugar that Edge kept on hand.

Today there was a Twinkie calling his name and Stretch was going for it. First, he needed an alibi and one came to him in the form of a Netflix, watching while lying innocently on the sofa while Edge went through his weekend laundry routine. He waited for the basement door to close behind him and that was when his plan came into play.

First, a shortcut into the kitchen so there were no suspicious footsteps leading in. Next, a quick scramble into the pantry where he promptly knocked two cans off the shelf, catching them before they hit the ground with a desperate skill he couldn’t have replicated on a bet. He set the cans carefully back on the shelf and crouched down, reaching behind the bags and feeling around for his stash. At first there was nothing and then just as panic was setting in, the crinkle of cellophane.

“gotcha,” Stretch murmured. He pulled it out and there it was in all its golden glory. The Twinkie, golden sponge cake and cream, along with enough preservatives to mummify a cat, if anyone was inclined to go the old Egypt. He opened the wrapper, inhaling the sweet aroma of monoglycerides and high fructose corn syrup.

The taste was even better, pure chemical bliss and Stretch moaned as he chewed, damn, this was the shit and—

“What are you doing?”

It came from directly behind him and in a moment of panic, Stretch crammed the whole thing in his mouth, wrapper and all, frantically licking his teeth clean before turning to look at Edge. Who was looking down at him suspiciously, crimson eye lights narrowed.

“nuffin!” Stretch burbled as he scrambled to his feet, trying to keep a burst of crumbs from coming out with the words. Desperately, he swallowed, holding back a gag with sheer willpower as the cellophane incorporated into his magic along with the poor, abused Twinkie. Ah, well, it died as it lived. Unhealthily. That problem handled, he tried again, brightly, “nothing!”

Edge nodded slowly. “Just felt like crawling around on the pantry floor for no good reason?”

If there was no other route, the path of righteous indignation was always there. “yeah, so? i don’t make fun of your hobbies.”

“You absolutely do.”

Yeah, that defense wasn’t gonna fly, he teased Edge about his action figures all the time. “okay, i do, but it’s done with affection!”

That suspicious look finally eased, and Edge leaned up to give him a light peck on the mouth, murmuring as he drew back, “Yes, it is. Well, don’t let me interrupt you.” He turned and walked back out of the pantry and just as Stretch was relaxing, he called back, “You might want to brush your teeth when you’re done if you want any other kisses. I’ve never cared for the taste of preservatives.”

Stretch whipped around to stare at him, that preservative-flavored mouth of his dropping open, but Edge only raised a brow bone at him and closed the door behind him. He stared for a long moment and then he could only laugh, crouching down to dig out another Twinkie so he could get his junk food fix without the extra aftertaste.

Did he say his longest love affair was with junk food? That might be true enough, but the love he felt for his husband left it behind in sugary, crumb-filled dust.

-fin

Chapter 3: Egg-splanations

Stretch was only a couple of steps past the sliding glass door when he screeched to a halt, walking backwards until he could look outside again, just to verify that he’d actually seen that.

Yep. That was what he thought he’d seen.

Edge was out in the backyard with the chickens, standing with one hand on his hip and with the other shaking a finger sternly at Nugget. Who was looking up at him, her little head cocked to the side as if she was taking in every word.

Okay, yeah, this needed some context. But first…

Stretch dug out his phone and took a picture, quickly setting it as his phone background before he opened the sliding glass door.

“…so you can’t keep doing this!” Edge was saying. “The fence is not there only to hold you in, it’s for your own protection!”

Nugget replied with a series of inquisitive clucks, wandering closer to Edge and looking up at him hopefully.

“No. You stop that,” Edge told her sternly. “I can’t carry you around all the time while I’m out here, I am working on the gardens beds. You realize that’s to your benefit as well, you all loved the seed plants from last year.”

“Mrrrp?”

That stern expression wavered and finally Edge sighed, crouching down and gently running a hand over Nugget’s back. “You have two minutes,” he told her. “And you can stay out of the pen while I am working, but after that, you need to go back in, do you understand?”

Edge seemed to take her happy clucks as agreement. He settled down to sit on the grass, stretching out his splinted leg with a groan. Stretch leaned against the closed door and watched him for a moment, a smile playing on his mouth. His big, tough Underfell husband, gently petting an adoring, crooning chicken. If only the Embassy could see him now.

He gave it another minute before calling out, “that’s telling her, babe. i swear, chickens these days need round the cluck supervision.”

Edge didn’t look up, only scratched Nugget gently under her chin while she closed her eyes in blissful euphoria. “You aren’t funny.”

“baby,” Stretch sighed, shaking his head in dismay. “i keep telling you, i’m not only funny, i’m clucking hilarious. a real comedi-hen.”

Edge rolled his eye lights and was that the faintest hint of a smile curving his mouth, hell yes, it was. “Yes, and I’m one bad mother clucker.”

“now you’re getting it. hate having to egg-splain it all the time.” Stretch walked over and sank down to sit behind Edge with one long leg on either side of him, settling his chin on his shoulder as he snuggled in. “love you, baby. i’ve fowl-len under your spell, no yolking around. love you so much, honestly.” He settled a hand on Edge’s unbound knee, smooth it down his inner thigh. “plus you’ve got a big co—”

“All right,” Edge interrupted, jabbing him lightly with his elbow. “that’s enough.”

“heh. if you say so.” He pressed a kiss against Edge’s cheek bone and lingered there, nuzzling that angular line, “can’t help thinking about it, though, you so close and all.”

Edge only gave Nugget another scratch and said coolly, “I’m sure. You’ll excuse me if I'm distracted by a different little pecker.”

A pause, then Stretch burst out laughing, pressing a harder, messier kiss against his skull, “that was a good one, you shit.”

Edge craned his head around to look at him and that faint, impish smile belonged only to Stretch, no one else. “What’s the matter, love? Out of puns already?”

“nah,” Stretch murmured. He cupped Edge’s face in one hand, thumb stroking the line of his jaw. “but talk is cheep.”

"Don't worry," Edge told him hoarsely. Neither of them paid Nugget desolate clucks any mind as he tipped his head up into the kiss, “you can wing it.”

-fin

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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the-headbop-wraith · 4 years ago

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2_37 Restoration

The vines catch at his ankles as he charges full tilt, sharp branches slap at his brow. He can’t fend them all from his skin, yet there are no trees surrounding him, just branches. Hundreds of branches, low hanging tree limbs, gnarled and sharp twigs starved of leaves – all clutter his vision. Candle light flashed faster and faster along high wall paper, shades of magenta and fuchsia crashing against his eyes. Red, blue, red, blue – his bare feet slap at the carpeted floor, the panicked rhythm hastens the wild pitch of his heart until he feels like his chest is ready to explode. Somewhere out there a mild thumping dips into a steady pace, while his legs whirl under him. Soon, he’s aware that thumping sound is getting closer and closer, no matter how fast his legs beat at the floor under him.

Arthur snapped his eyes open and stares at the other side of the wall, through the opaque plastic window of the small stand in shower. He tries to make sense of the blurry wall, struggles with the truth of the wall rather his hazy memory from an elsewhere. The door was open and the cold air kneaded into his skin, helped clear his mind. It was stale air, not icy, not depressing and icy air. The walls closed around him were as bleached and sterile as the surface of the moon. He shuddered and tightened his arm around his legs and tried to bar in the little bit of warmth bubbled against his stiff sides.

The bathroom that connected to the guest bedroom was functional and comfortable. It had two doors, one that accessed the guest room and the other door across from it which opened into the front hall of the home. It had the bare essentials, a toilet and sink on one side of the room, and a small shower in the fourth corner. Arthur currently sat in the dry pan of the shower, staring at the bulbous shapes morphing through the distorted plastic. He hated doing anything in a haunted home, especially sleeping. His eyes shut again, it felt so good sometimes to just close your eyes and listen to the empty air around your head.

His eyes popped open to the gentle rapping on the door. A groggy voice blundered through the wood panel that separated him from the guest room. “Art?” It was Vivi, voice muffled by drowsiness and door. “You in there?”

“Mm. Yeah,” Arthur called back. “I’ll be out in a sec.” He wobbled something bad as he pushed himself up by one arm, and staggered out of the small shower closet stiffly. He stepped over to the single standing sink and turned on the water. He put away the portable medical kit, and managed to dig out a clean shirt without much problem getting it by the abundance of used ointment packets and bandage wrappers. He slipped the clean shirt on carefully, shut off the water, and collected up the remainder of his gear before unlocking the door. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he choked, as he pushed the door open a crack.

“It’s fine,” Vivi yawned. She stretched her arms behind her head and scratched at her frazzled head, glasses gone and still dressed for yesterday. “I was just getting worried, and I needed to get in an hour ago.”

As Arthur stepped out of the way, he finally noted the windows in the furthest corner of the room. Bright sunlight poured through, golden and fluffy through the mild tint of fog and clouds. It had to be early, shy of noon, the fog hadn’t burned off yet. The last time he looked outside, it was very dark.

The door shut, and Arthur was left to gather his bearings. He coughed a bit on the warm air, it was probably time for another pill. Later then, he didn’t want to fool with his bag and risk drawing attention to himself.

Since Arthur’s disappearance, Mystery had relocated himself from what was once warm blankets on the couch, to the warm bed and was on his back snoring with his paws bent over his chest. Arthur stared at the happily snoozing dog bundled in his warm nest. Arthur sighed. “I could really go for coffee.” Arthur set his bag down and flopped sideways onto the couch. He curled up on his good side and slipped the blanket over his lower half. “Lewis isn’t back yet,” he noted. At least, as far as he could tell.

It wouldn’t take Vivi long to get spruced up and ready to tackle the days task. A blessing and a… downer. Five more minutes. Two more seconds. If he just rest his eyes, he’d be good.

Mystery was up. He didn’t see when the dog had moved to his feet, but he was standing up on the bed and staring at the side of the room, fully focused on the door. Arthur worked to get himself pushed up and over to see where Mystery’s attention was. Arthur wasn’t alert enough to anticipate Lewis’ sudden appearance.

There was no Lewis. However, Mystery hopped off the bed and padded over to the door, head down and ears high. “Wassup?” Arthur mumbled. Mystery arfed, as he neared the door. “Whatever you say, buddy.” Arthur spun over onto his back—

The door flew open and a pair of white bulbous bodies withered in, moaning and bellowing their arms. They screamed, “Leave our house!” and “Be gone trespassers!” as they raced at Arthur. Mystery kicked back on his rears legs, fell over, his claws scrabbled at the carpet until he found traction and bolted for the space under the bed. “You will REGRET!”

“WOOOOO!”

“Holy—” Arthur threw himself backwards, crawled over the side of the couch and away from the invading sheets. As he tried to stand upright, his feet got tangled up in the blanket and his body went straight to the floor. “Ow….”

“Ooh,” one of the ghosts groaned, wincing. It pried off the white sheet revealing Tyler’s matted hair. “Hey, you okay?”

“We’re ghosts!” The other ghost declared, waving its arms. “OOoooohhhhh!” She stopped when Tyler slapped her in the stomach. “Ow! I’m telling mom.”

Arthur rolled over and sat up. “Geez, what is wrong with you two?” he spat. Whatever fatigue had flattened his brain on the hot pavement, it was gone, obliterated. “You’d give someone a heart attack.”

“Were we scary?” Savannah asked. Her hair stood up in all directions when she slid the sheet off. “Your eyes went all white, it was crazy!”

At least he was clothed. Arthur raised an arm to his side, where he had fallen. He must’ve hit his bad nerve, that whole side of his ribs was buzzing. “I could call you a few things,” he muttered under his breath. All three turned their heads up when the bathroom door WHAMMED against the wall.

Vivi emerged from the mist in the door, hair soaked and slicked to her skull, damp cloths clinging to her body. Whatever the teens said about scary, it paled in comparison to the look in Vivi’s eyes. Arthur felt himself shrinking into himself, and he was far from the target of her fury this time.

“What in FLYING FUCKS are you two doing in OUR ROOM!” The house shook on its foundation around her voice. Elephants stampeded, waves crashed, a certain dog in a room enjoyed hamburgers for the rest of its life. “Do YOU have ANY MANNERS? DON’T ANSWER THAT!” Savanah shut her mouth.

“This is our house!” Tyler rebuts. He rolled the sheet up against his chest, clearly unsettled but much too proud (or stupid) to admit anything redeeming. “And you should be paying us rent or something while you’re here.” Tyler glanced around, and turns his attention back to his sister but she clearly didn’t want to get involved in this.

Vivi was marching forward, head down, eyes flashing. Arthur threw himself into her path. “No, Vi, Vi!” he stammered. “I wasn’t hurt! They’re just kids!” He tries to grab her by the wrist or snag her shoulder, but this is difficult to do when you have one less arm, and he’s backing up struggling to snap her attention onto him. “VIV-VI!”

“The doors gone.” Savanah had looked back and inspiration struck. The door that was once open, was now not there at all. “Um….”

Vivi’s hostile advance had ceased, and Arthur hung on her shaking. It was getting harder to see. Now the windows had ceased to be, there were no longer exits present at all in the room. The apprehension thickened, the once soft pastel colors of the surrounding walls crack and darken, the harsh introverted coloration spreads down and down, burning away pale hues. Was it a trick of perception, the loss of light, or the tones of red and purple that were quickly gaining area, but the whole room seemed to be getting larger? The walls extending but minutely, as the light faded. Vivi helped Arthur stay on his feet, though he was moving away from the lush red carpet as it sizzled under foot; as if there was fire snapping at his feet.

Mystery wriggled out from under the bed and hopped up onto the mattress. The dog’s gaze followed the gradual progress of the carpet and walls until the two alterations met at the edge of the wall. Mystery twisted around and gave Vivi his attention, one ear bent down at a loss.

“Lew?” Vivi whispered. “Is this you?” Savanah and Tyler ambled around whining, shooting startled eyes along the walls as the room contorted around them. “You’re going too far with this. Do you hear me? You have to stop.” She whips around when Arthur leaps onto the couch, one of the few areas of the room unaltered.

“He’s gonna kill me!” Arthur squealed. He heaved the blanket from the floor up over his head and buried down into the cushions. Mystery wasn’t far behind Arthur’s escape, and hops up into the thin wedge between the chairs arm and Arthur’s quivering body. “He’s promised! He swore, oh god! This is it! Dead! I’m dead- I’m dead!” Mystery looped his paws over Arthur’s back and huddled down, he looked to Vivi.

“Pull yourself together!” Vivi stooped beside Arthur and put an arm over a clear space on his spine. Arthur shook something bad and tensed at her touch, whimpering incomprehensive words muffled by the blanket tangled about him. “Pull yourself together! Art! Nothing’s happened so far! Listen to me! You—” All at once what little light had remained throughout the rooms metamorphosis dimmed, though blessedly not total darkness. Vivi could still see Arthur and Mystery clearly, she could see across the room the distant walls. “Lewis.”

A panicked shriek comes from the other side as Savanah and Tyler threw themselves to the wall, where once stood a strong and proud door. “It was here!” Tyler yelped. He slapped his palms to the door and felt around. “We came from here!”

“Where is it? Mom! Mom!” Savanah screamed. They hit the wall, screamed for aid, begged whatever force listened. “We didn’t mean anything! It was just a game!”

“She made me do it,” Tyler bawled. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” He twisted around to a low hissing-pop at his back, and shield his eyes from a flash of light. “S-Savanah.” His sister ceased pawing at the wall, and turned as Tyler tugged her arm.

On the floor lay the Ouija board with four candles burning by each corner, a vibrant flame that bounced and swayed, beckoning fuchsia light. The glossy board with artistic rendition of sun and moon did nothing, but sat there on the foreign carpet and bathed in the otherworldly light. In the center of the Ouija board was a black mare that resembled a burn.

This… it was beginning to make sense to Vivi, but she felt grossly uninformed. She wanted to scream at Lewis to cease this nonsense, it had gone too far. But she didn’t. She could almost sense his presence strongly in the room pacing around, smell the fine kindling of his hot smoke as he waited. If there was anything she had come to learn on her own of Lewis, it was that he was ruthlessly patient.

As if to answer her doubts over the nature of the scene, Vivi felt something brush into her leg. She looked down. One of the tool bags, a few of the incense sticks poked out from the top flap oddly, tips aflame. Mystery gave a low sound, a hum, as Vivi reached down and plucked out the burning sticks. She blew out the flames and kept the wicks held in front of her, the sweet scented fumes trail off as she shifts her footing on the carpet.

Somewhere at the wall Tyler and Savanah had huddled down and sniffled into their arms. Vivi began to approach the teens slowly, it was difficult to see and the carpet had begun to resemble the ripped rug of a certain foyer. The darkness that had been sewn into the walls of the room now constricted its prisoners, wound down and deep; barely recoiled from the four candles that huddled around the blemished Ouija board. When Vivi turned and checked her progress from the couch, she could see neither Arthur or the rooms furnishings, nor were Mystery’s soft coos audible.

With a breath from the sweet aroma of the sticks, Vivi leans over the board and fans the smoke. “Spirit,” she commands. “Be gone.”

Rather vanquish the hostility the Ouija board begins to spins between the candles. The board whirls so fast it becomes a blurred disk, but the flames upon the wicks never sway at its dictation. Okay.

“You two played with this,” she accuses. “This is yours.”

“No, no,” Tyler pleads. He tries to grab ahold of his sister, but Savanah just shoves him away and holds herself. “I promise. It’s… realy, it’s her’s.”

“Shut up,” Savanah hissed.

The Ouija board spins faster and faster. If it were not held down by the force that commanded it, it might’ve flown off into the great beyond that swelled around them. Still, Tyler and Savanah continue to deny every seeing it, buying it, all the way down to denying knowledge of what the cursed thing actually was. The more they beseeched and whined, the faster the board twirled on the floor; the longer the Ouija board spun, the darkness all around them thickened and loomed; closing in, tightening over the bright flames of the candles, until neither of the three could see anything but the individual candle wicks between them. Savanah and Tyler clung to the wall paper behind them unwilling to risk seeking safety in the alien light, even when they could no longer see who it was that sat beside them. Until finally—

“Yes!” Savanah barked. “YES! I got it from a friend! I didn’t know! We just wanted to know if our house— We WANTED a haunted house!”

And like that the Ouija board halts mid gyration, the darkness recedes, but not completely. The nearest walls become visible, but not the rest of the room.

Vivi’s hair was starting to dry and little lone strands begin to stick up whichever way they wanted. She was cold too, though the air felt very warm. Her clothing had been practically soaked through. “Okay,” she said. “What needs to be done is… a closing prayer! Have either of you done a closing prayer before?” The unanimous mumble was ‘huh?’ “That’s a problem,” she continues, shaking her head. Arthur was coughing, choking. She felt better knowing he was out there somewhere, at least she knew where he was more or less. “A closing prayer sort of frees spirits from the board, and also protects those that use it. Only those apart of the session can close a session, it won’t work unless all members are present.” She gave them a critical eye and raised the incense sticks near her face. “Did anyone else help you with your session?” Savanah shook her head.

“You sure? This is kind of important.”

Again, she pushed Tyler away. “No. Just us,” she said.

Vivi nods. She lowers herself to the floor before the board, the incense held beside her. “Come closer. You have to help me with this, or none of us will leave.” Neither of the two teens would leave the wall. “You can stay there for as long as you like, but there won’t be a way out till you fix this.” She held out a stick of incense. “This will… protect you.” She glanced aside and tried not to roll her eyes.

Reluctantly, Savanah shuffled forward, Tyler followed her lead. The two faced the board where it had stopped, the images and symbols facing them. Vivi handed them each a stick of incense.

Savanah sniffed. “Is that blueberry?”

“Uh-huh. It purifies the air, and it’s good for a séance,” Vivi chirped. At a thought, she turns and calls into the dark. “Art? You wanna help?” A muffled whine came, and a separate bark from Mystery. “I’ll take that as a no.”

When the two siblings lowered to their knees, Vivi began fanning the remaining sticks she held over the Ouija board. “Now, we’ll thank the spirit for sharing their energy with us,” Vivi explained. “You’ll repeat after me: ‘Thank you for sharing this sacred time with me.’” Tyler and Savanah followed without a hitch, and aimlessly trailed their sticks above the now placid board, in a similar manner to that of Vivi’s antics. “‘We appreciate the flow of energy we have experienced, and we will use it for our highest good.’” When they finished with that portion of the prayer, Vivi indicated the candles at the Ouija board’s corner. “Start blowing the candles out—”

“Blowing the candles out,” Tyler blurted. Savanah nudged him in the side and he winced.

“It will be fine,” Vivi assured. “Do it slowly, not fast. Be respectful.” She waited as the two teens took a candle each to blow out. “Say now: ‘As we blow out these candles,’” Savanah and Tyler begin to repeat, between snuffing out the candle light. The bright halo around their epicenter dims but doesn’t black out the transparent illumination completely. “‘We close the sacred space, and ask that your protection surrounds us wherever we go today.’” Vivi dips her head. “Thank you two, that was very good.”

“It’s dark,” Tyler’s voice whimpered. There was a crackling sound, and Tyler was groaning again.

“Is not, the lights coming back on,” Savanah said. And Vivi saw it was true, the air and walls about them was brightening and Vivi could see Savanah pointing up. “Look! The light’s working again.”

The light in the low ceiling gradually brightened, revealing a room restored, a small comfortable room with beige carpet and soft pastel walls. And doors.

Once the two saw that the door was returned, they tore away from the abandoned Ouija board and smoking candles on the floor. The two fought to reach the doorknob, and spent more time fighting over the door that it took a full minute before one of them, Vivi wasn’t sure who precisely, had ripped the door wide open and they tumbled out into the hall. Their rapid footfalls clambered down the hall and soon the room was again subdued and quiet, and preferable.

Coughing, Arthur pokes his head up from the blanket and looked around. “Vi. Vi. You okay?” She doesn’t answer Arthur, she’s watching where the two had barged out from.

As the door swung back towards its frame, Lewis is revealed leaning back into the wall behind the panel. He reached a hand over to shut the entry the rest of the way, and holds up his hands as Vivi jumps to her feet. “Don’t get those near me,” he says.

Vivi was about to argue, but forfeits that and just dumps the incense on the Ouija board. “Did you do a session with them, without my permission?” she pried, as she… she tries to fix her damp pants. It was a hopeless measure. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna be giving those two good vibes for the rest of the day.”

Lewis smirked and shook his head. “No. It wasn’t my session you helped them close.” He raised his arms anticipating an embrace as Vivi hurries at him, but instead sets her hands over his.

“I gather you have some things you need to tell us later,” she says. “But first things first, we still don’t have a solution for our current problems. We don’t know the first thing about these spirits, and scaring those two did not help.” She stopped talking, when Lewis set a finger gently to her lips.

“Mi dulce arándano,” Lewis hummed. “You saved those kids, and in the process got rid of those ‘spirits.’”

Wait, no, that wasn’t what she was trying to do. Vivi took a step back from Lewis, conflicted by the whole ordeal and the repercussions undoubtedly unleashed. She hadn’t done anything, hadn’t tried. Not yet, she didn’t. She gazed at him and squinted her eyes. “Lew? What did you do?”

Lewis frowns, and motions a hand to the neglected Ouija board behind Vivi. “A candle for each spirit,” is all he’d say.

The hall clicked with the sharp footfalls of Beatrice Hirstein’s swift, calculated strides. The words of her young teens boiled her blood, fueled the contorted fury that navigated her course of action. She was a rational woman but she had limits, and they would NOT be tested.

When she reached the door of the guest room she brought her quick stride to an abrupt halt and reached out, her knuckles tapped gently on the door. “Excuse me in there,” her voice projected. She paused and listened, there was no response, no voices, but she could hear the muffled movement behind the door. “Hello! I need to speak with you!” She reached out and pounded on the door this time.

The panel heaved back from Brea’s fist and the blue manager of the investigative group stood before her. Vivi blinked at the raised fist and focused past it, to the other woman. “Er… yes? Oh, your kids.” Vivi cast a backwards glance as she stepped forward and into the hall with Brea, she jerked the door shut behind her.

“Yes, my kids!” Brea harped. She stiffened, squared her shoulders tightly as her face contorted as if struggling to compress the string of words that had backed up into her stewing rampant. She finally found her words, and spat, “WHAT happened in there? Your group is supposed to be protecting my family! Your meddling has caused nothing but trouble, and you – YOU have taken no action to remedy our plight! I am attacked in my own kitchen, we hear voices all day and all night, then THIS! What am I even paying you for?!”

Vivi had her hands up in no large effort to calm the screaming woman, she could only wait until Brea had spent her breath and was ready for some feeble explanation (if she would allow it). Once the woman had wheezed out her final sentence, Vivi offered a moment and ensured that no sudden surge of accusation would spring forth from the parched well. The children in question were nowhere in sight.

“It was an experience,” Vivi starts. Brea looked as if she was about ready to burst again. “But harmless, I… promise. The situation was under control, and dealt with accordingly.” The door popped open a crack at Vivi’s back and she twists around. The marred Ouija board is shoved through the small opening from the side, when Vivi accepts the board from the opening, the door clicks shut.

“And this here,” Vivi announced, holding the board across to Brea. “This might be the cause of your problems.”

Brea took the board and flipped it over, she spotted the burn mark on the center immediately and touched the edge of the black melted surface. “What is this?”

Vivi weaved her fingers together and raised her elbows at her sides, in a kind of shrug. “Whether you believe in it or not, these ‘game’ boards can be dangerous.” For the first time Brea noticed that Vivi was not dressed at all for the day, and her hair was very messy and stuck up in odd clumps. Vivi resumed, nonchalant. “I can’t confirm, and I doubt that your kids would admit it, but sometimes playing with tools such as this can awaken spirits from dormancy, or invite them in. Particularly, when the board is not closed properly. I assure you, Mrs. Hersh— er, Hirsetin, that we have performed our required task and your poltergeist problem has been eliminated, as per your request.”

The door again snapped open, but this time there was additional shuffling and bumbling about. Mystery dropped to his four legs and padded by the two, one of the provision bags carried in his teeth. Brea returns her attention to the door as the yellow clad figure totters out, a few bags carried in one hand, a metal arm pinned in one of the bags slung over his only feasible shoulder.

“I told you not to pack up on your own,” Vivi protested, as she brushed by Brea in pursuit of Arthur.

Arthur shrugged the straps over his shoulder as he walked. “No sweat, we didn’t nab everything. Excuse me, Mr. Hirstein.”

Coming in from his morning walk, Mr. Hirstein held the door open for Arthur and Mystery as the two slipped out. “Good afternoon,” he said to the visitors. Mr. Hirstein was not very tall, not very young, and was hardly ever present during their investigation. “Leaving already?”

“Probably?” Vivi uttered, as she and Brea caught up.

“Really?” Brea challenged. She moved over to stand (tower) beside her husband, the offending Ouija board was placed upon a bookshelf beside the large front door. “I want some proof that our home has been cleansed. Don’t you laugh at me.” Mr. Hirstein shields the side of his face with a hand as he shuts the front door behind Arthur and the dog. He had to have a chuckle at his wife once in a while.

“And I want concrete proof about the paranormal being more than smoke and mirrors,” Vivi retorts. “Our contacts will be in touch with you for a follow up within two to five weeks. There’s an emergency contact, if you absolutely cannot wait. Truthfully, I don’t think you’ll have any more problems with the house, now that this has been taken care of.” Vivi nodded towards the Ouija board behind Brea.

“This is highly unorthodox,” Brea huffed. “You can’t just abandon a family in need of your services.” Mr. Hirstein shook his head as he walked away, leaving his wife to handle the matter.

“The paranormal is anything but a perfect science,” Vivi elaborates. She wanted this done, before Arthur made efforts to load up all on his own. “The cleansing ritual was as complete as we could manage, and the spirit seems to have departed for good.” Vivi mentally rolled her eyes. “Listen, I have a small ritual you can follow that can help while we’re gone, but as you can see,” Vivi motioned her current state. “You sorta caught us at a bad time.”

At first Beatrice was reluctant to allow the exchange to end there, and was rearing up for another reason why these matters needed to be attended to, and NOW. But as Vivi pointed out, she was not ready for the day, and this in Mrs. Hirstein’s book screamed the lack of discipline these people practiced. She gave them their space, allowed them to work unimpeded, yet here they were smack dab on noon and neither of them looked ready for anything short of disappointing their parents, which wouldn’t surprise Brea. For now Beatrice was willing to let Vivi off, in favor of attending to her kids and learning more from their side of the matter.

One quick shower later and Vivi was ready to tackle summary discussion. Arthur saw her right on that task, in a hurry to get them off the hook as fast as she could manage. He was helping in the way she forbade him to, but he really needed something to do while she renewed the ancient battle with Mrs. Hirstein.

“And what if I don’t?” Brea threatened. She was at the end of the hall near the dining room doors, Vivi held out what he knew to be the clipboard with the dismissal form, and something else; not a pin.

Vivi’s voice was laced with irritation, Arthur could almost envision Lewis looming over her glaring hot holes into Mrs. Hirstein’s head. “I’ve already told you, this is standard procedure,” Vivi went on, teeth gritted. “If your problems persist, then your case will be reopened and another group can handle it. This is the extent of paranormal intervention, the same procedure would follow….” Vivi continued, saying whatever could be said to get Beatrice Hirstein to sign that damn form. Arthur could tell Vivi was insincere about most of what she was saying, and wholly relied on the account that Lewis had offered to slip them on out of this place. Lewis had seemed pretty shaken when Vivi had threatened to knock his skull clean off his shoulders, if they so much as got wind that the Hirstein’s were still having problems. However, Lewis saving grave may have been former association with the overall nature of the Hirstein’s.

Mystery followed Arthur the whole time. He frolicked through the snow on their way out to the open van, and pranced along with Arthur when he returned to the warm interior of the home. The warmth was only a temporary relief. Young Tyler had been seated on the lowest step for some time watching as Arthur and Mystery struggled in and out of the door with the few bags of supplies.

“You don’t even have a film crew,” Tyler said. Yeah, Arthur was very much ready for those long nights on the open road.

Conversation prickled forth from the dining room, most likely moved there when the setting of the current subject had. Arthur stuck his hand in his pocket as he walked, Mystery padded along beside him with a slow stride. Vivi was still at it, trying to chip through the mile deep of impervious empathy.

“Burn the sage by the food,” Vivi was saying. “It doesn’t need to be exclusive breakfast, it can even be something simple. A bowl of soup.”

“Is this all even necessary for the… process?” Beatrice sounded disgusted by the idea of leaving food out to sit for any length of time. “Won’t it draw them back?”

“That’s never happened,” Vivi said, voice flat. “It’s only meant to be a courtesy to the spirit, something about subsiding energies and offering a sort of peace. It’s a custom that’s been handed down through the centuries, and though we still don’t understand its origins it’s still practiced.” Vivi looked back as Arthur and Mystery entered the dining room, the clipboard was held behind her back as she spoke. By the dining table across from Vivi’s posture stood Brea, a plate with a sage bundle on it sat at the table’s center.

“Try leaving out a bhut jolokia,” Arthur mentioned, as he stepped through the double doors. “That’d do the tick.” Vivi gave him this vacant stare for s splint second, before she turned back to Brea. As she looked away Arthur stumbled forward, nearly falling to the floor. Mystery yelped and ducked aside, possibly making ready to duck under Arthur if he fell the whole way.

“You okay?” Vivi yelped. She sprang over to Arthur as he regained his balance, Arthur flashed his wide eyes around the room as Vivi caught him by the shoulders. “Art? Look at me.”

“Was he pushed?” Beatrice hollered, from where she stood. She hadn’t moved an inch.

Arthur gently pushed Vivi away. He raised his foot to the floor and tapped his toe behind him. “Naw. I just… old shoes.” He put his hand on his shoulder and gave Vivi a thin smile. “I’m about ready for some brunch.”

To top it all off the van wouldn’t start. The day just overall sucked.

Arthur hummed to himself as he tried to crank the engine over, yet again. It was just on the edge, he could feel it, but it just wouldn’t ignite. He slid out from the driver side and checked the cable connections on the battery in the cab, checked the cables on the spare battery that was sitting upon a dirty work towel placed on the road. Maybe it was the spare, he hadn’t tested it to see if it had power before he brought it over. He doubted it in the first place and considered just disconnecting the spare, either way, it was work but he had some hope that there would be enough charge to kick the van engine up.

Mystery hopped out of the middle seat when Arthur returned, in the back Vivi shuffled around organizing the supplies Arthur and him had dumped in. Arthur had been in too much of a hurry to do that sort of detail work, but Vivi didn’t really do it either until…. Anyway, he figured he’d be occupied with the battery for a bit. The engine ‘rrred’ at him as he tried the key again, and Arthur hummed a little louder to himself.

Branches wound their gnarled fingers up the and down the walls, the chipped wallpaper was splint over the deformed knots. The deeper he ran through the gloomy halls, the snugger the walls wound about him. It felt like the tangles of branches were closing in over his head, Arthur stooped forward as he ran in a breathless panic, seeking the smallest chip in the twilight that would deliver him from the suffocation. Heat burned up his lungs and through his chest, his eyes watered. He wanted to scream for help, call out for his friends. The only sound he could manage was a thick gurgle as he spiraled down and down.

Arthur felt his hand trembling at the steering wheel. He couldn’t feel his arm. It was a hellish sensation, too familiar. He coughed a bit on the soreness and leaned back into the car seat. The seat beside him was empty, there had been something like comfort in the vacant space. Then it was filled up with a dark shape, colors, the sudden contrast slammed into the white backdrop of the snow filled lawn. Arthur jerked in his seat and scooted away.

“Jeez, Lew,” Arthur gasped. He brought his hand to his eyes and rubbed away the spots. “I’m gonna tie a bell to you, I swear.” The radio crackled with sounds, one of the stations they had been listening to before Arthur had to shut it off. He could have changed the radio station, but that hadn’t occurred to him when they had been driving. He just wanted the noise gone.

Lewis began to say something, at least that distorted rattle had arisen like a living person taking a short breath before words came. Vivi cut him off with a sharp cry, “Did you shove him!” Lewis winced and jerked about in his seat, what little of his living appearance he had dragged on quickly rolled off like beads of water on a hot skillet. Lewis had already begun to tuck down more toward the floorboard of the van, his skull dipped into the top edge of his suit collar. As for Vivi, she towered over the seats back and glowered down her nose onto the shrinking ghost below. “You be honest with me! I won’t tolerate this!”

“Vi!” Lewis squealed. “You’re taking this the—”

“Don’t bullshit me, Lewis!”

“Would you not?” Arthur snapped. He twisted around in his seat to more or less face Vivi down, or tried, for all Arthur’s crippling intimidation could manage. “I tripped, I told you! That iz what happened. What, you think I’m lying? WHY? Why don’t you believe me?” He couldn’t keep their eyes locked, Arthur had to spin away and go back at the engine. “Accidents happen,” he sputtered, as he fumbled around the steering wheels base. “And you can’t always just blame someone. Hold on, gimmie a sec.” He tried the key again, gave it a little twist of his wrist and the engine blared to life, strong and proud, a guttural snarl of fossil fuels surging through its pipes. “See! There, got it!” Arthur slung out of his seat and hurried to the vans front, nearly slipping on the ice as he went.

Vivi sighed. She watched Arthur’s shape flash out of sight beyond the raised hood of the van. Lewis remained pinned where he was at the floorboard, his dark eye sockets stare up at her imploringly. “Tell me why,” Vivi murmurs.

The faint lights in Lewis’ skull flash. “I… didn’t. He— he’ll need help with that battery.” Vivi pushed him down by his shoulder when Lewis tried to rise up, and used Lewis as leverage to swing over the bench seat.

“They’re probably watching,” she snarled. This was probably more than true. “Just stay here and out of trouble.” She aimed a hard stare and a finger back at Lewis’, as she backpedaled around the front of the van to join Arthur.

The hood cracked down, the whole van shaking with the force and Vivi talking over the sound of the engines rumble. She was grumbling about Arthur doing too much, overworking himself or something and an arm. While it was all clear Lewis pulled himself up over the backseat and lowered into the vans back. Mystery was there, paws on his ears and eyes perked up toward Lewis as the ghost settled down.

“Um…” Lewis began, skull raising an inch out of his suit collar. “I’ll just… wait over here.” Mystery didn’t question it. Simultaneously, the two look to the vans back when the doors tore open.

“You’re just gonna rest a’while and I’ll drive first! Move Mystery,” Vivi shot. She waved a hand Mystery’s way, and the dog relocated himself to corner of the van opposite to Lewis’ current occupation. “Thank you.” Vivi fumbled one handed for the floor latch imbedded in the carpet, and heaved up the hidden panel in the floor. “No! I don’t need your help. You’ve done enough helping! You’ve helped enough to cover for the next five thousand years!”

Lewis slinked back into his corner and shared a glance with Mystery. While Vivi loaded in the heavy battery, Arthur climbed up into the van on the driver side.

“I am capable of driving,” Arthur mumbled. “For the first few—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” Vivi cut in. She punctuated with the slamming of the floor compartment, and the shutting of the back doors. Her voice continued, as it tracked along the side of the van towards the driver side. “I need something to get my mind of this insult to our trade, or I might just… UGH! Lemme get inside! Scoot! Scoot over!” Arthur complied, fearful of the tone in Vivi’s voice. He shut the passenger door and Vivi hauled the driver side door shut. The engine still grumbled its moody hum, and fog spewed along the side of the windshield. Vivi gave a shrill cry and beat at the steering wheel with her fists.

Lewis raised his head up and exchanged a fearful look with Arthur. Poor-poor Arthur, pinned by the passenger door, unable to work door handles when he was in a state of panic. Lewis almost felt sorry for him.

“Are… you okay?” Arthur mumbled.

“Those… PEOPLE!” Vivi fumed, still smacking at that poor steering wheel. Arthur wanted to remind her that he had barely gotten the engine started, but he wasn’t ready to become the next target of her wrath. If he remained small and helpless, Arthur would be safe. In theory, that is.

Mystery pulled himself up on his front paws and looked Arthur’s way, but the dog seemed to snicker at the scene instead.

“I take it after all that heart-to-heart, you two never saw eye-to-eye?” Arthur chanced, barely above a whisper. He regretted it immediately when he spoke, and hoped Vivi didn’t hear that.

“WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CLUE?”

She heard.

#msa #mystery skulls fanfic #mystery skulls #animated #msa fanfiction #msa ghost #msa lewis #msa vivi #msa arthur #msa mystery #mystery skulls fanfiction

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keichanz · 5 years ago

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Move Your Body || pt. 2

Part 1 || Part 2

“When’s your next class with Sango?” Inuyasha asked her around 4 am and tipped back a water bottle to drain the rest of its contents.

Lowering her own drink that Inuyasha had provided for them sometime around two in the morning, Kagome sighed and tilted her head as she thought.

“Um, Wednesday,” she supplied. “I know she does them every day, but I can only come in every other because of classes.”

He nodded. “After your sessions with Sango you’ll come up here and we can begin our own. A month isn’t that long to come up with an entire routine, so plan to stay all day. I’ll provide food and shit and we can take breaks.”

Kagome wrinkled her nose but nodded without complaint. He was right; they didn’t have a lot of time, and with her having classes and his own job demanding his time, they couldn’t get together every day.

Inuyasha grunted, carelessly tossed his empty water bottle onto the table and released a hearty belch, ignoring Kagome’s look of disgust as he snatched up her phone and brought up her messaging app.

“I’m sending myself a text so you’ll have my number,” he told her, typing out a quick “hi” and sending it before handing it over. “Feel free to text me about any ideas you might have, or questions you wanna ask. Don’t matter when, if I’m busy or in a meeting I’ll reply when I’m done. I’ll do the same if I think of something and we can brainstorm.”

Kagome took back her phone with a nod and walked over to stash it in her bag. She spotted the remnants of her destroyed t-shirt and suddenly remembered her state of dress and blanched. Oh crap, what was she going to wear when she left?! She couldn’t walk home in nothing but shorts and a sports bra!

Inuyasha followed her gaze, watched her eyes go wide and the color drain from her face and rolled his eyes, walking over to his own discarded shirt on the floor and tossing it at her.

“Here,” he said as she automatically caught it. “Just bring it with you Wednesday and if you forget, it’s not a big deal. It’s just a shirt.” He shrugged and raised his arms above him in a stretch, releasing a yawn. Fuck, he needed to get to bed soon since he had a meeting in like...five hours. Shit.

Sending him a grateful smile but not without a blush, Kagome pulled his shirt over her head, immediately feeling better now that she had some cover. True, she’d been in nothing but shorts and her bra for the past few hours and she was more or less used to it now, but part of her still felt the need to hide herself. But they were working on that, and she couldn’t begin to express her gratitude for his help.

Picking up her bag and shrugging the strap over her shoulder, Kagome leveled him with one last genuine smile.

“Thank you,” she said softly, sincerely as her eyes collided with deep amber, “for everything. It means a lot that you’re taking the time to do this and...well.” She laughed softly and lifted a shoulder in half-shrug. “I appreciate it.”

Inuyasha studied her for a moment, golden eyes speculative, before he quirked a grin at her. “It’s my pleasure, babydoll,” he told her, being completely honest. “I’ll see you Wednesday. You okay to walk by yourself?” He didn’t like the thought of her walking alone at nearly 4:30 in the morning, but he really did need to get some sleep. However, if she asked him to accompany her he wouldn’t say no.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured with a smile, touched that he truly seemed to care. “It’s not far, just a ten minute walk. See you Wednesday.” She turned and headed toward the doorway, giving a yawn. Damn, she hadn’t realized how tired she was. She was very glad her first class wasn’t until noon.

“I’ll text you,” Inuyasha murmured as he watched her go and after she disappeared into the elevator, giving one last wave and smile before the doors slid shut, he sighed, shut off the lights, locked up, and headed upstairs to get some much needed shut eye.

Inuyasha fell heavily into his office chair with a groan and immediately started yanking off the tie that had been gradually suffocating him since nine that morning. It was now a little after noon and he’d just returned from the meeting that had run much longer than originally planned. It was the quarterly meeting, where Sesshomaru and his advisors went over profit and a bunch of other technical jargon that he didn’t particularly care for, and he had been bored out of his goddamn mind for the majority of it. Sesshomaru had kept sending him warning glares whenever he couldn’t hold back a yawn but he couldn’t help it; while he didn’t need as much sleep as the regular human, it had still been a while since he’d stayed up that late and he was paying for it now.

Finally loosening his tie with a grunt, he let it hang around his neck and leaned back in his plush chair, tossing an arm over his eyes and debating on the merits of a brief nap. But then he remembered he had an appointment at one with some spoiled brat that fancied herself a dancer because her rich daddy had called the day before and practically begged him to see her. Inuyasha had only said yes just to get the guy to shut up; he had no intention of taking on another client. Not right now, anyway. Between his actual jobs and the side project he had going on with Kagome, he didn’t have nearly enough time to dedicate to the private lessons that had been requested.

At the thought of his blue-eyed, dark-haired “student,” a grin lifted the comers of his lips and miraculously the pounding in his head lessened a degree. He’d only spent a few short hours with her, but already Inuyasha was eager for tomorrow to come so he could see her again. He liked her spunk, admired her determination and the flash of temper that always sparked in her eyes whenever he criticized her form or made her do a certain move again, but better and faster.

Though clearly not a fan of his methods of instruction, Kagome never complained and did as she was as told, preforming a move again and again and again until he was satisfied. She was a hard worker, he was quick to realize, and a fast learner which blessedly made their time together much easier. He was really looking forward to the day where she could put everything he taught her together and put on a little show for him, but until then he was content in slowly getting to know her in increments.

He’d learned little snippets about her life last night during times when idle chatter had been had, things like she’d been friends with Sango since middle school, she had a younger brother, and being a nurse had been a goal since she was a little girl. She liked helping people, she was a terrible cook, and she was deathly afraid of spiders.

Inuyasha had also learned she’d only ever had one boyfriend, some shmuck named Houjo she’d dated in high school, and they’d broken up when he left for the States for college. She was a virgin – he’d gleaned that obvious information by himself – she was completely inexperienced when it came to intimacy, and she really, truly thought that she wasn’t the least bit attractive.

Inuyasha frowned. He wasn’t stupid; he knew a single night and him simply telling her it was false wasn’t enough to convince her otherwise. He didn’t understand how such a knockout like Kagome could possibly have self-esteem issues, but everybody had his or her reasons, he supposed.

Something might have happened in her past to make her think that, or maybe even something had happened just recently, but whatever the case Inuyasha was making it a personal goal to make her see herself through his eyes. She was a beautiful young woman worthy of praise and confidence, and he meant what he’d said; if he had to say it every day, shower her with compliments until she blushed and stuttered like a schoolgirl, he would.

Heaving a sigh, Inuyasha lowered his arm and cracked his neck, glancing at the clock and thinking he should probably get up and get something to eat when his office door opened without warning. His top instructor walked in like she owned the damn place, donned in her usual work attire of tank top and capri leggings with her dark hair secured in a high pony-tail.

Sango hip checked the door closed and strode over to his desk, calm as you please. Then Inuyasha noticed what she had in her hands and instantly he was alert, ears perking up and back straightening in his chair as he leaned forward.

“Fuck, I love you,” Inuyasha muttered as she set down a hot coffee from Starbucks and a McDonald’s bag on his desk. Knowing from experience not to immediately chug down the steaming brew, Inuyasha went for the food first, fishing out a Big Mac and barely getting the wrapper off all the way before chomping down with a groan of pleasure.

“I know,” Sango answered as she sat on his desk as opposed to one of the two chairs in front of it and sipped her caramel frappe. “Figured you’d be hungry since you never eat breakfast and your meeting ran late.”

Inuyasha grunted, polished off the burger with another three bites, and then started on the fries next.

“And also,” Sango continued a little too casually and idly played with the straw of her drink, “after I apologized about forgetting to unlock the door last night, a little birdie told me today that you didn’t get to bed until very late, hence the java.”

Then she paused and cut her eyes to his and Inuyasha froze.

Goddammit. He really should have known she’d tell her. Didn’t she say they’d been friends since middle school?

Heaving a sigh and rolling his eyes, Inuyasha shoved a few more fries into his mouth and then took a careful sip of his coffee. He let his silence be his answer and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he savored the Americano with one sugar. He tasted a hint of mocha too and he grunted in approval.

Sango’s lips twitched. “Are you seriously going to help her come up with an entire dance routine?”

He glared at her over the rim of his venti.

Unfazed, the dance instructor shrugged and turned her gaze to her drink, taking another pull on the straw. “I was just curious,” she said innocently, trying not to smile.

Her boss’s scoff told her exactly what he thought about her curiosity and that time she couldn’t hold back the grin that spread across her face.

“What’d she do to get you to help? Bat those big blue eyes at you and smile?”

Inuyasha stared at her for a moment, his expression unreadable, and then kicked up his feet onto his desk and leaned back in his chair as he nursed his coffee.

“I offered,” he told her.

Sango’s smile dropped. “What?”

He raised a brow and took another sip of his espresso.

Sango blinked at him and then her eyes widened. Holy crap, he was serious.

“Holy crap, you’re serious,” she said, incredulous.

Inuyasha looked a little offended at that and scowled at her. “Why the fuck wouldn’t I be? Despite what you and the pervert think, I ain’t heartless, Sango. The girl clearly needs help, and as it just so happens I have the qualifications that fit her needs perfectly. She’s just another client and just because she’s your friend doesn’t make her any goddamn different than anybody else.”

Sango’s stare hardened and she squared her shoulders. He may be her boss, but he was also her friend, and she wasn’t about to take any of his shit.

“I know for a fact that Kagome’s not paying you so don’t tell me she’s not any different,” she spat, her protective instincts kicking in as they always did whenever her dear friend’s delicate nature was compromised. “She thinks you’re helping her free of charge out of the goodness of your heart, and I swear to god, Inuyasha, if she’s another one of your charity cases to get more publicity or you want you want your payment to come from other means—”

“Shut the fuckup, Sango,” Inuyasha growled and shot forward in his chair so fast Sango flinched back. Golden eyes flashing fire and fangs exposed in a dark scowl, the half-demon seethed, “Kagome’s not a goddamn charity case and you know I would never take advantage of her innocence like that, or anybody else for that matter, so fuck you for even saying that.”

Alarmed by the heated vehemence in his voice, Sango snapped her jaw shut and simply stared at him with wide magenta eyes, at a complete loss for words. She’d never seen him react like this before about any woman and it was completely unexpected, if a little disconcerting. She supposed he head every right, though; she always lost her head a little whenever it came to Kagome’s safety and she admitted she shouldn’t have accused him of such a horrible thing, because he would never do that.

“Not that it’s any of your business, because it’s not, helping Kagome is actually helping me,” he continued, still glaring, though his voice had lost its growl. “Sesshomaru’s been on my ass about new material and this is the perfect opportunity to get it. Kagome gets her dance, shoves her victory in that bitch Kamlyn’s face, and I have new material to give to that tightwad. Everybody wins.”

That said, Inuyasha sat back in his chair once more, lifted his coffee to his mouth, and looked to the side, his eyebrows down low over his eyes. He glowered at some random point on the wall, still pissed that his friend would even insinuate he would ever take advantage of a woman like that.

A tense silence developed between them after that and Sango stared pensively into her drink while Inuyasha nursed his coffee and fished his phone from his pocket. He’d gotten a text earlier during the meeting but hadn’t had the chance to check it yet...

Sango sighed, drawing his attention, and he flicked his gaze over to her, expression carefully blank.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she began, looking and sounding guilty enough that his anger softened a little and he gave her his full attention. Sango glanced at him and grimaced. “You’re right, I know you would never do that. It was stupid.”

He snorted but her glare quickly shut him up.

“It’s just...” Sango sighed again and pushed her fingers through her bangs, brow furrowing as she gathered her thoughts. “You have to understand, Inuyasha, Kagome is...fragile. I was honestly surprised when she told me she signed up for this competition because she...well, she...”

“She has no confidence,” Inuyasha supplied for her and at her look of surprise he sighed and nodded. “I already know she has low self-esteem and thinks its necessary to hide behind baggy clothes. It’s another reason why I chose to do this, Sango. I wanna help her. Really. Kagome is fucking beautiful and I want her to see that.”

He stared directly into her eyes and the sincerity was unmistakable in the honeyed depths. Inuyasha was being totally and completely honest and if Sango were being honest herself, she was floored at the hanyou’s dedication to this cause. It was one she approved of, definitely, but in all of her years as his closest friend, she’d never witnessed him going this far for any woman before.

And with a start, she realized that he was exactly what her shy, self-conscious friend needed. Inuyasha’s unique brand of arrogance, dedication and tenacity would no doubt draw Kagome out of her shell and slowly transform her into the confident, brave woman Sango knew she could be.

Sango would just consider it a bonus that Kagome was also just what the doctor ordered for the oftentimes hotheaded hanyou, even if he didn’t realize it yet.

Finally offering her friend a genuine smile, Sango nodded once. “Keep me posted?” she asked. “And if there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll do my best.”

Releasing a breath, Inuyasha nodded in return and thrust a hand through his hair, glancing at the clock. 12:28. He still had a bit of time left before Daddy’s Little Princess showed up, so in the mean time he had one last question for his friend.

“Hey, Sango,” he began, idly tracing the cap of his coffee with a claw as the instructor glanced over at him inquisitively. “...Why is Kagome like that? Did something happen?”

Sango sighed and took another drink of her frappe, brows dipped down into a slight frown. She’d had a feeling he’d ask, and while she supposed he had a right to know since he was going to help with Kagome’s self-image, it didn’t make it any easier to reveal. Perhaps Kagome herself should be the one telling him this, but Sango also knew it wouldn’t be right for him to ask, and her friend wouldn’t reveal that information to him without cause anyway.

“It goes without saying,” she began slowly, “but please keep this to yourself. Kagome hasn’t always looked the way she does, Inuyasha. When she was in elementary school, before I met her, she was chubby and mercilessly picked on because of it. She told me she didn’t have a lot of friends because of how she looked, and it only got worse when she entered middle school. She gained a little more weight, and the bullying got worse, to the point she would refuse to go to school the next day.

“The day I met her she was surrounded by high school boys and they were calling her names, bullying her about her weight, and laughing because she was crying. I managed to chase them away by screaming for the nearest teacher and threatening to kick them in the balls if they didn’t leave her alone and ever since then Kagome has been my best friend. I became her protector against the bullies and it wasn’t until Kagome’s appearance started to hinder her health that she decided to do something about it.

“She started exercising daily, with me being her constant support of course, eating healthier, and taking care of her body. By high school she looked like a completely different person, a lot like she does now, and that’s when she got her first boyfriend.”

Inuyasha frowned. “Houjo.”

Sango blinked in surprise. “She told you about him?”

He shrugged. “In passing. She didn’t give any details and I didn’t ask.”

“Anyway,” she continued and took a sip of her drink to wet her throat. “Dating Houjo helped a lot with Kagome’s self-esteem, but even he couldn’t erase the scars from years of bullying. And even though they parted on friendly terms because it was a mutual breakup, Kagome regressed back to her previous way of thinking and now it’s just a subconscious habit to dress in baggy clothes and deny any compliment that’s given to her, an instinctive way of protecting herself, I imagine. I’m always telling her she looks great, but she just blushes, shrugs, and changes the subject.”

Sango sighed and chewed on the end of her straw with a thoughtful frown. “She’s still eating healthy and exercising when she can, but you have to understand, Inuyasha, after years of being called degrading names, bullied because of how she looked, and believing she was ugly or didn’t deserve affection, I’d imagine it’d be quite difficult to accept any sort of praise, even if it’s true. She’s been cruelly conditioned to think like that, and without Houjo there as a constant reminder that she’s worthy and beautiful...”

She paused and stole a look at her unusually quiet half-demon boss and friend. Inuyasha was staring down at his desk, claws tapping against the thick paper of his coffee cup as he drummed his fingers. It was hard to determine what exactly the prevalent emotion on his face was, however judging by the dark frown that gradually lowered his brows over his eyes and the way his lip curled over sharp fangs, Sango wagered that anger had reigned supreme.

Relatable. Sango often felt the same whenever she thought about how rough her best friend had had it and the desire to go back in time and kick some ass was always present.

But then it vanished as quickly as it had arrived and Inuyasha shook his head, closing his eyes as he thrust a hand through his hair. It was obvious he was still perturbed at this new information however, because though less prominent, the frown on his face hadn’t diminished and he sat back in his chair. The rough grunt he emitted as he lifted his coffee to his lips articulated exactly what he thought about that and Sango nodded.

“Same,” she agreed.

Translation: I don’t fucking like this.

Then he sighed, nodded, and cut his eyes to hers with the steely determination that Sango recognized and her expression softened into a smile as she easily decoded what that meant.

But I’m gonna do my damnedest to fix it.

“Good,” Sango whispered and by mutual agreement, the two lapsed into silence as Inuyasha finished off his coffee and dumped the evidence of his lunch into the trash while Sango noisily and obnoxiously slurped up the remnants of her frappe.

Inuyasha’s ears pinned and he pegged her with an annoyed glare. She returned it with an innocent smile and while keeping eye contact, drew on the straw one last time, resulting in another grating slurping sound. He scowled at her.

Visibly pleased and resisting the urge to cackle, Sango sucked up the last of the tasty caramel before finally tossing it into the trash. Inuyasha rolled his eyes and dug around in his desk for his cigs and lighter, lamenting on the fact that his friends and instructors were children in adult bodies.

“By the way,” Sango said as she prepared to leave, “you’re one o’clock is here.”

Inuyasha paused and aimed a frown at her. “How the hell do you know?”

She smiled sweetly. “I saw her waiting in the lobby when I got back from getting your lunch. She was quite rude and demanded that I ‘fetch Mr. Taisho tout de suite, he’s expecting me and I mustn’t keep him waiting.’ So I gave her my murder-smile and said, ‘Right away, miss,’ then came up here and had a half-hour conversation with you.”

Her boss stared at her blankly for a moment and then a delighted grin spread across his face. “You are a fucking queen.”

“And don’t you forget it,” Sango quipped with a wink and headed for the door.

Inuyasha snorted and looked at the clock. From what Sango told him, Miss Daddy’s Princess must have gotten here shortly after he did, nearly a fucking hour early. What the actual fuck.

Growling in annoyance but figuring he might as well get it over with, he grunted and said, “Send her up.”

“I’m not your secretary,” Sango snorted as she reached the door and swung it open.

“I’m sorry, who signs your paychecks?”

“Asshat.”

“Bitch.”

“That’s Queen Bitch, thankyouverymuch.” Sango flipped him off and Inuyasha returned the gesture, straight-faced.

Rolling her eyes and grumbling, his friend finally left his office, but Inuyasha didn’t fail to miss the smile that crept onto her face right before the door closed behind her.

Chuckling, Inuyasha shook his head and wondered not for the first time how such a sorry son of a bitch like him lucked out with such amazing friends before once more rifling through his desk for his nicotine sticks. He ended up finding them on his desk under a pile of paperwork along with his lighter and he wasted no time in lighting up.

The sound of the elevator chiming outside his office was his only warning and he just barely managed to shove his hat down onto his head before his door was unceremoniously thrust open and his one o’clock appointment sauntered in without a care in the word. Inuyasha cocked a brow at her audacity at not bothering to knock before barging in but said nothing, leaning back in his chair and peering at the woman that strolled confidently toward him from under the bill of his hat.

Crossing his arms, the cherry of his cig flared orange as he inhaled and Inuyasha watched Miss Daddy’s Princess give him her best beauty pageant smile that he bet she practiced doing in front of a mirror and claimed one of the plush chairs before his desk. He first thing he noticed was that her tits were so full of silicone they could be considered paperweights and when she not so subtly thrust out her chest, they threatened to spill from her very low cut blouse. Christ, the buttons looked about ready to burst open and Inuyasha nearly choked on smoke as he disguised a laugh.

“Mr. Taisho,” she purred, crossing her legs at the knee and causing her short skirt to ride up either further. “It’s so nice to finally meet you. I was here nearly half an hour ago, but that bi—uh, that lady made me wait.” She huffed and pretended to pout.

Inuyasha didn’t deign that with a comment and took in the rest of her, releasing a stream of smoke in a smooth exhale. Tanning salon worthy dark skin, long brown hair with so much product in it stung his nose, and the greenest eyes he had ever seen.

Contacts, he surmised and flicked the ashes off his cig into an ashtray. She was pretty, he’d give her that, but in an artificial way and he was willing to bet her personality was just as fake as those rock hard bags on her chest. She knew how to manipulate a situation and what to say to get what she wanted, but that was okay. Inuyasha had dealt with countless women like her before so he was prepared for whatever she threw at him.

“Miss...Soma, was it?” Inuyasha drawled and stuck his fag between his lips again.

She smiled again, perfect white teeth flashing. Of course.

“Call me Kamlyn, Mr. Taisho.”

Inuyasha choked on his next inhale and surged forward, blindly reaching for the half-full bottle of water sitting on his desk.

He lied. He certainly hadn’t been prepared for that.

Kamlyn Soma, the bitch that had apparently been tormenting Kagome for the past three years, blinked and frowned at him.

“Are you...okay?” she asked and actually sounded genuinely concerned.

Chugging back the contents of the bottle, Inuyasha held up a finger in the universal “one moment” signal and after successfully soothing the irritant in his throat, he lowered the water and released a loud breath.

“M’fine,” he finally answered and looked around for his cig, scowling when he found it on the floor by his feet. Grumbling he stooped down to pick it up before settling back in his chair, inspecting it carefully.

Eh, whatever; he gave a mental shrug and placed it between his lips again. He didn’t want to waste a perfectly good cig he’d just started and besides, his office was vacuumed daily and shampooed monthly from the same company he hired to clean the studios.

Remembering he had an audience, Inuyasha turned his attention back to the woman before him. She was still eyeing him a little strangely but wiped the expression from her face when his eyes connected with hers, straightening her back and offering him another practiced smile.

“What can I do for you, Miss Soma?”

“Kamlyn.”

He stared at her and wordlessly opened his mouth to let a few tendrils of smoke drift lazily upward.

Undeterred, Miss Kamlyn Soma, aka Kagome’s Tormenter, cleared her throat and launched into an entire spiel that Inuyasha was positive she practiced for hours beforehand, complete with the sultry lilt to her voice.

“So, Mr. Taisho, I have a...proposition for you.” Her smile turned rather suggestive and she leaned forward in her seat, deliberately showing a generous amount of cleavage. “You see, my school is having a dance competition...”

Eighteen minutes later, lazily puffing away on his second cigarette without a damn care in the world, Inuyasha watched in unabashed amusement as Kamlyn Soma stormed out of his office, face beat red and body stiff with anger. Aside from an ear flicking beneath his hat when she slammed his door as hard as she could, he didn’t react and merely tapped more ashes into the ashtray, calm as you please.

Her less than stellar behavior had been entirely expected. When her methods of seduction had failed to garner what she wanted – i.e., assistance in planning a show-stopping routine – she’d thrown a tantrum and resorted to threatening him with her daddy’s money and power. Inuyasha had been unimpressed – Ryukotsusei Soma couldn’t do shit to him – and once more turned her down with the true reasoning of he was too busy.

He’d been professional and polite, keeping his tone respectful even when her calm composure had begun to deteriorate and she’d tried one last tactic, desperation causing her to lose all pretenses of seduction and outright promising him that she’d give him the ride of his life if only he would agree to help. She’d pay him generously of course, implying that money would not be the only means, but when still he’d replied in the negative, even looking bored while he said it, that was when she’d dropped her façade and her viper attitude had shown its fangs.

Inuyasha had merely watched, face blank, as she’d ranted and raved at him for a good five minutes, threatening that she would destroy his reputation and pretty much throwing a little spoiled princess hissy fit before huffily stomping away and childishly slamming the door in her wake.

Fuck, but Ryukotsusei must have the patience of a goddamn saint to put up with that every day.

Snorting, Inuyasha carelessly tossed his hat onto his desk, freeing his ears, and reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. Waking up the screen, he was a little disappointed to see the text he’d received earlier wasn’t from Kagome, but then again, it wasn’t that surprising. Considering how insecure and shy she was, it was a given she wouldn’t text him first, probably thinking she’d be bothering him or something and not wanting to be a nuisance. He hoped soon she’d be comfortable enough to text him whenever she wanted, but for now he was content to initiate their conversations.

Ignoring the message from Kikyou telling him to call her later, Inuyasha brought the text he’d sent from Kagome’s phone last night and swiftly typed in a new message.

you’ll never guess who I just had the pleasure of meeting with and then stormed outta my office looking pissed enough to commit murder

He hit send, paused, and then sent a second one. mine, specifically

Expecting it might be a while before she replied since he had no idea what her class schedule entailed, Inuyasha flipped up his laptop and decided it’d be a good idea to actually get some work done. He needed to check his emails, reply back to some if necessary, call and check in with a few of his clients, call Kikyou, draw up some contracts, review and sign a few contracts, file said contracts, go over payroll and yell at Miroku for his frequent habit of coming in late, and then go over some reports that were past due.

Fuck my life, he groused, grumbling as he brought up his email, crushing the stub of his cigarette in the ashtray and lighting up a fresh one. He stared longingly at his office’s custom bar he’d added in some years back but thought better of it. Sango would kill him if she caught him drinking in the middle of the day, no matter how justifiable it was after putting up with someone like Kamlyn Soma for nearly twenty minutes, and he was pretty sure he’d finished his JD last week anyway.

Shame.

He wasn’t even half-way through reading his second email when his phone buzzed beside his computer. Surprised, but delighted, Inuyasha abandoned the email to swipe up the device and lean back in his chair to read his newest text.

????

He snorted even as the corners of his lips quirked up into a slight grin.

A one kamlyn soma maybe you’ve heard of her

Her reply was instant that time.

GET. OUT!!!!!!!!!

Inuyasha laughed.

srsly. tried seducing her way into getting me to help w her dance was hilarious

Taking a drag, Inuyasha exhaled through the side of his mouth and idly tapped this thumb against the screen as he waited for her to reply. The three dots appeared, vanished, appeared, and then disappeared again and he frowned when it stayed that way. He narrowed his eyes, and then to keep himself from asking what the hell she was doing, he closed the app and after thinking about it for a split second, brought up Facebook.

He brought up his friends, found Sango, and browsed her friends until—ah. There she was.

Grinning victoriously and with a single tap, he brought up Kagome Higurashi’s profile and took his time going through her timeline, chuckling at some of the memes and pictures she’d shared that gave him a glimpse into her sense of humor. Then he came across a selfie of her and Sango, looking positively radiant as they laughed together, and his expression softened.

Truly, how could she ever think that she wasn’t pretty with something like this as proof?

He’d just decided to browse her albums to see what other gems he could find when finally his mobile vibrated with an incoming message. And instead of the lengthy reply he’d been expecting because she was taking so long, the notification that dropped down had his brows snapping low over his eyes in an annoyed frown.

You agreed??

Ears pinning flat against his head and growling low, Inuyasha gripped his phone with both hands and hastily typed out his response, pissed the hell off that she actually had to fucking ask that in the first place.

what the fuck kagome NO I didn’t agree u don’t fucking think I would actual

Inuyasha stopped mid-word. Blinked down at his phone and reread what he’d typed. Then he sighed, briefly closed his eyes, and promptly deleted everything he’d written before starting again.

no babydoll. I didn’t my time is yours

He hit send and dragged a hand down his face as his previous anger quickly fled. Kagome was insecure and Kamlyn was her hot, although still fake as fuck, enemy; it wasn’t farfetched that she’d assume he would agree. He was a businessman, and what businessman didn’t want…well, more business? He’d have to keep reminding himself that Kagome was just acting on instinct, doing what her brain had been unconsciously hardwired to do, and he’d definitely have to start exercising more restraint.

It was like Sango said; Kagome as fragile, or at least her state of mind was, and Inuyasha knew if he directed one of his infamous blowups at her, it would cause more damage than he could repair. And he’d never be able to forgive himself.

Blessedly her reply came much quicker this time around and glancing down at the mobile cradled in his lax grip, he released a breath and was suddenly infinitely glad he’d decided to change his last message.

Grinning, Inuyasha sent the dog emoji back, practically able to hear the giggle he knew it would elicit, and then grudgingly put down his cell to actually get some work done. In a significantly lighter mood than before, he went back to his email, unaware of the smile that lingered on his face as he scanned the page.

Part 3

Buy me a coffee? :)

#move your body #part 2 #inuyasha #kagome #inukag #keizfanfiction #fanfiction

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lookwhatbeewrote · 6 years ago

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(teaser for x) | billy lenz x reader

Here’s a little teaser for @avixla (and the rest of you too~) of a Billy Lenz x reader story that I swear I’m working on but life keeps getting in the way!

The taste of bitter chocolate and sweet peppermint dissolved against your tongue, warm and tingling. You evened out the creases in the foil wrapper until it was an imperfect square shining with only the slightest wrinkles in the light of the crackling hearth. You set it down atop the small pile of other wrappers whose edges had equally been smoothed down. Despite the promise of spring in the delicate buds pushing through the last of the snow, the night was dark and cold. It was a wet kind of cold, the kind that worked its way under layers of clothing and chilled your bones. The walk to your classes had been dreary and your boots had sloshed through puddles of melting snow slush, the cold air biting at your cheeks and flushing them rosy red. The grandfather clock in the foyer, counting the seconds with stoic steadiness as it had done for decades.

In her armchair, Barb lit another cigarette and puffed on it while the end glowed golden and a halo of smoke circled her head.

‘Where’s the virgin tonight?’

Phyl pursed her lips disapprovingly over cloth-bound tome in her hands. ‘Barb, stop it.’

Barb exhaled smoke and opaque tendrils kissed her cheeks as they drifted upwards to dissipate. ‘What? I’m showing concern. It’s a cold night.’

‘Chris took her out for a few hours,’ you said.

Barb’s brows quirked. ‘Lucky Clare.’

Phyl glanced at Barb before looking back down at her book. She turned the page and adjusted her reading position, pulling her legs up onto the couch. ‘You know, sometimes I think you’re just jealous Barb.’

‘Oh please. Jealous of loverboy and the virgin? Not a chance.’ Irked, Barb stood up. ‘Just don’t come cryin’ to me if something happens to them out there. The world’s full of crazy people.’ She took another puff of her cigarette before stubbing out the ashy remains in the dish on the coffee table. ‘I’m going to bed.’

‘Watch out for the crazy people as you go. Might get you on your way up the stairs.’ You grinned conspiratorially at Barb and she offered a slight smirk in return.

‘Yeah, I think I’ll be fine. Night, ladies,’ she called over her shoulder as she slipped out of the sitting room.

Phyl rolled her eyes fondly and closed the book on her index finger. ‘She’s too much sometimes.’

You shrugged. ‘She’s different.’

‘I’ll say,’ Phyl laughed. Her laugh became a yawn and she sat forward stretching. ‘It’s getting late. I think I should get some sleep too. You coming?’

‘I’ll be up in a minute,’ you replied as you began gathering up the empty wrappers and balled them in your fist. They squeaked and crinkled as you crushed them, the plastic condensing into a haphazard lump.

‘Well alright. See you in the morning.’ Phyl gathered up her things and padded towards the door. Before she could reach the foyer, the phone by Mrs Mac’s favourite armchair began to trill obnoxiously.

‘Oh,’ Phyl said, turned on her heels. ‘Who’s calling so late?’

You moved towards the phone and slumped into the armchair by it, placing a hand against the receiver. ‘I’m not sure. It’s okay, you go up to bed and I’ll get it. I have to do a few things down here before I come up anyway.’

Phyl’s slender shoulders dropped slightly, relieved and exhausted from another long day of classes and hours spent in a gloomy, deathly-silent library. ‘Thanks. Goodnight.’

‘Night Phyl.’

As Phyl disappeared into the foyer and up the stairs, you plucked the receiver from the hook and the ringing ended abruptly. Pressing the cold plastic to your ear, you fought off a sudden yawn.

‘Hello?’

There was silence on the other end of the line. The grandfather clock ticked on and on, the tempo steady and rhythmical. The hearth crackled, spitting embers from the white heat of the dry log that Mrs Mac had nestled behind the grate before shuffling off to bed. The silence dragged on until you cleared your throat.

‘Hello? This is Kappa Sig. Who are you trying to reach?’

Finally, an obscenely low voice gritted out, ‘What your mother and I must know is… Where did you put the baby Billy?’

You blinked, frowning as you clutched the phone a little tighter. ‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Billy,’ a higher voice wailed mournfully. ‘Where’s the baby?’

#billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #billy the moaner #black christmas (1974)#clare harrison #chris hayden #chris hayden x clare harrison #barb coard #phyl carlson #avixla

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china-cafe-chinese-restaurant · 5 years ago

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Top Ten Authentic Chinese Recipes

Chinese food products are a delicious way to expand your personal recipe book, particularly if you feel affection to utilize simple, fresh ingredients with short cooking hour.

These top ten dishes are famous worldwide, and so are must-haves within your collection of Chinese recipes.

Fried Rice - A preferred item in Chinese restaurants, fried rice is your ultimate Chinese food, and may be the single most flexible within your cookbook because you could use leftover rice and ingredients for making it. Of course, you should use fresh ingredients but it’s recommended to use rice having been placed in the fridge overnight for best results. Ingredients usually involved in making fried rice are eggs, spring onions, diced meat of either beef, chicken or pork, ham, prawns and vegetables comparable to bean sprouts, peas, celery, corn and carrots. There are plenty of varieties of fried rice but the more famous ones are classified as the Yong Chow and Fukien fried rice.

Kung Pao Chicken - Kung Pao chicken or Kung Po chicken is usually a Chinese dish from Szechuan cuisine and it is considered to be a delicacy. The recipe just for this savory dish commonly needs diced chicken that could be pre-marinated and fast stir-fried with unsalted roasted peanuts, red all kinds of peppers, sherry or rice wine, hoisin sauce, sesame oil, oyster sauce, and chili peppers. Alternatively, you need to use shrimp, scallops, beef or pork rather than the chicken.

Moo Shu Pork - This is a dish of northern Chinese origin as well as a favorite of many. Ingredients inside a Mushu pork recipe usually involve green cabbage, carrots, wood ear mushrooms, bean sprouts, scallions, scrambled eggs and day lily buds. Sweet peppers, snow pea pods, celery, onions, Shiitake mushrooms and bok choy are sometimes used. The vegetables are cut into long and thin strips before cooking, together with the exception for bean sprouts and day lily buds. Fried Mushu pork is wrapped in moo shu pancakes that’s brushed with hoisin sauce and eaten by hand. Moo shu pancakes are thin wrappers manufactured from flour that may be handy in supermarkets and steamed immediately before eating.

General Tso’s Chicken - General Tso’s chicken is really a Hunan cuisine which tastes spicy and sweet and of course popular in Chinese restaurants in Canada and America where it’s often marked as a “chef’s specialty”. General Tso’s Chicken recipe commonly involves battered chicken deep-fried and marinated with ginger, garlic, rice vinegar, soy sauce, sesame oil, Shaoxing wine or sherry, sugar, scallions, and hot chili peppers.

Spring Rolls - Spring rolls make fabulous snacks and appetizers. They’re just like egg rolls, but are slightly different to its cousin. Springs rolls are have less filling than egg rolls, is smaller in size and its skin is thinner. To make a spring roll, minced meat and thinly cut strips of vegetables are rolled and sealed in a square or circular rice paper. It truly is then deep fried till crispy and golden brown. Serve this crowd pleaser piping hot.

Chinese Dumplings - Chinese dumplings absolutely are a fabulous addition in your home-made foods, and might be made simply and quickly using just a a few ingredients. Important when making an excellent dumpling is usually to confirm that any of your ingredients are finely minced, to make sure that each one of the dumplings are steamed within a equivalent time.

Beef and Broccoli - The vital key to cooking up a delicious Beef and Broccoli dish in your home would be to make a good sauce made up of oyster sauce, light soy sauce, thick soy sauce and cornstarch solution. Marinade the meat before stir frying with sugar, rice vinegar, cornstarch solution, soy sauce and sugar.

Sweet and Sour Pork - This savory-sweet highly popular Chinese dish is of Cantonese origin. It is a good dish to organize if you find yourself planning on having guests, who will be wildly impressed with the cooking skill. When it comes to other Chinese food recipes, the significant key to deciding on a great Sweet and Sour Pork dish is present in the sauce made from sugar, ketchup, white vinegar, and soy sauce. Its ingredients include pork, pineapple, bell pepper and onion cut into bite size pieces.

Chow Mein - In American Chinese cuisine, Chow Mein is known as a stir-fried dish consisting of noodles, meat such usually chicken, shrimp, beef and pork, cabbage along with vegetables.

Chop Suey - Chop suey or “za sui” or “shap sui” literally means ‘mixed pieces’ is an American-Chinese dish usually contains leftover meats and vegetables stir fried quickly inside a sauce thickened with starch. It is a great dish when you need to expend the last of yesterday’s chicken or pork roast and may incorporate meats out of any kind for example fish, chicken, shrimp, pork or beef and various vegetables from celery to bean sprouts and cabbage. Chop Suey will often be eaten with rice.

Author Resource Box: Authentic Chinese Recipes is an online recipe and cooking website offering of free oriental recipes and Asian recipes for you to try out at home and amaze your family and friends.