Saiyuki Ficlets
Series: Saiyuki
Characters: banri, Gojyo
Rating: pg 13 for violence and language
I feel like shit. Each cough feels like someones trying to reach down my throat and rip my spine out. I've been running a fever since well before noon and finally called it quits. Feigning for a Cigarette....smokin while you're sick is bad for your health ya know.
Day wasn't too bad really. New people in town, one including a pretty old 'panther'. Ya know those types, older women who look for the younger men. I know she could either spoil or break me, but that purse besides her legs-the only thing retaining her youth- is awfully tempting. We'll just say that things haven't been the best. Sure, the money has been good, stupidly so for me.... but it aint like I see a lick o it and fer once it aint my fault.
“Fucking Shitty Halfbreed! Where's my money” my land lord. A druggie with enough boils to make a pigs ass look like a Que ball. He's got a gruff voice, as if he swallowed half his teeth and they're just dangling at the back of this throat; he even half cough grunts as if attempted to expunge them and its probably one of the only sounds on this earth that makes my blood boil.
“Yo Peaches.” Aint his name but it fits. I think the shirt he wears was white once, but between the food, blood and sweat stains the once white material's got the hues of a nice ripe peach; I gave up the fruit as soon as I moved in. I give him my best charming smile well aware that it aint gunna work, not with my voice crackin like I was 10. “Dunno whatcher talkin about.”
“You 'n that shitty demon havnt paid rent! Its due every fucking FIRST” He waddles his way up to me, shoving a fat finger against my chest and blowing that foul rot he breaths into my face. Hes lucky I didn't yack all over his precious shoes in the state I'm in.
I give a shrug “Banri has it, gave him the money. Said he gave it ta you. Problem with that?”
I really wasn't expecting it but I should have. My head was already in a cloud, feeling like I've been swallowing cactus pears all day. Already feelin like shit the slug across the mug didnt improve my disposition. “Fuckin Smart mouth! Ya pay ME, not HIM. If ya both Dont got the money it means yer BOTH out. Got it!?”
I kinda hear him, head's buzzin too loud to really understand it but I get the jist of it. Peaches is in a bad mood. I'm not sure what's more repulsive, the fact that his boils broke against my face or that the puss felt damned refreshing against my skin. Another heave of my stomach and I attempt stagger to my feet. “Yeh Peaches. I Got it. I'll take care of it.”
The guy seamed like he was having a bad day and needed ta take it out on someone. I was just the fucking idiot that got in his way. I didn't want to get up and he made sure I stayed down. Peaches hits like a girl and I coulda stopped every hit, easily even drunk but I guess my heart wasn't in it with this damned cold is kickin my ass. He stops finally shaking his hand out and cussing with a growl. Red faced and looking like he was on the verge of a heart attack Peaches finally oozes off sayin something about taking the money from my hide. Yeh, I'd like to see that.
Stagging in feeling my face hot as all hell. Fucking got me in the teeth, split my mouth and has rattled a tooth loose that much I'm sure of. As I cough it only confirms the welling pain my head alone is in. Banri. That fucker. Controlling little fuck wanting to be sure to pay the bills, always in his name, not giving a fuck about others. Controlin everyones little move. If I'm out too late with the girls he bitches. If I disappear fer days he's at the door like a nagging wife ignoring me till I find myself almost pleading for him to forgive me. How the fuck did I get so whipped? When I open the door I find Banri fucking about playing solitar. We say nothing and I stagger to the fridge opening the door, gripping the handle tight enough I feel my knuckle whiten.
I swear...this time, I'm gunna let him have it. I feel that rage that ugly demonic side laughing and pleading to get out. Bills aint getting paid. He's half hidin them so that when it comes time they're late. its as if he's tryin ta get our asses kicked. I'm feelin like a tampon, inserted so far up some bitch and used once and then discarded. It pisses me off. I stare at the blank messy shelves that once perhaps weeks ago held food as the stains and left over brown indistinguishable blotches indicate. Say something ya bastard....go for it fucking SAY IT! This time.... I'm gunna rip inta him. Tear his fucking intestine out and make colostomy bags from them. Sell his parts for rent.
“Ya passed it onto me ya fucker” Banri's voice is far more even but there's a soft cough after his sentence. I slowly stand up and blink at him. This is it, gunna tell him what a fuck he is. How useless he is....that hes got such a tiney dick he feels the need to control everythin put others down and rip em apart all to feed some broken ego.
And it triggers....I smirk.”so, ya wanna go for a beer.” like that. It all silences. Why fight it. People will be what they are. There's gotta be someone for everyone to kick about. As my right cheek swells and pulses with the fever and red shaped fist mark I feel all my anger and aggression just disperse, quiet as if the oncoming storm retreated once more ta wait. I realize I'm a coward and fool. I also realize I deserve the shit I let them put me through. Maybe one day I'll grow a backbone, but right now? I'm just tryin to survive- people dont understand this.
this is a more personal one
series: Saiyuki
Characters Gojyo, Hakkai
Rating pg: little romance and more thoughtfulness
“You have such Beautiful hands.”
Since then Hakkai found that he watched others hands more often then most. A subtle gesture, a small mark or scar. He found he could almost read the life of the person those hands belonged to by the calluses, marks and scars like a book, a short biography. He brushed his fingers over Gojyos hand as the man Slept, comparing their hands. Gojyo's skin in comparison had an almond tan making his skin almost pale in comparison. He read the lines and creases that smoothed and blurred, raised and fell with the soft kiss of white scars over the knuckles.
For all Gojyo would say, and with a smile none the less, the Truth was written on these strong hands. Gojyo built his life with his own two hands, fought his way into acceptance and held tightly to what was important to him. The awkward curve his his pinky where it was once broken and never fully set. The knuckle on his ring finger where it too had been broken along with the millions of words scribed in some lost and forgotten book. The soft smudge of ink under his fingertips and nails from the words that Gojyo not only read but had a habit of dragging his fingers along the page and the words he read as if touching the words made them real.
Hakkai marveled at the way the hands flexed and ever so skilfully curved and gripped. The man had talents, the hands of an artist, the hands of a fighter. From a stand off perspective the half yokai's hands were less then beautiful. Like an old vase or chest Hakkai could see how the aches of time and the wears of use and weathering hand turned long awkward fingers into something more beautiful then most, with an untrained eye could see. Soft lips pressed agisnt the crescent shaped scars that danced about the knuckles. To Hakkai, those hands were Beautiful, no matter what the red haired man might say. Dependable skilled hands that gripped onto his friend with the loyalty of an abandoned dog and the courage of a lost child.
Characters: banri, Gojyo
Rating: pg 13 for violence and language
I feel like shit. Each cough feels like someones trying to reach down my throat and rip my spine out. I've been running a fever since well before noon and finally called it quits. Feigning for a Cigarette....smokin while you're sick is bad for your health ya know.
Day wasn't too bad really. New people in town, one including a pretty old 'panther'. Ya know those types, older women who look for the younger men. I know she could either spoil or break me, but that purse besides her legs-the only thing retaining her youth- is awfully tempting. We'll just say that things haven't been the best. Sure, the money has been good, stupidly so for me.... but it aint like I see a lick o it and fer once it aint my fault.
“Fucking Shitty Halfbreed! Where's my money” my land lord. A druggie with enough boils to make a pigs ass look like a Que ball. He's got a gruff voice, as if he swallowed half his teeth and they're just dangling at the back of this throat; he even half cough grunts as if attempted to expunge them and its probably one of the only sounds on this earth that makes my blood boil.
“Yo Peaches.” Aint his name but it fits. I think the shirt he wears was white once, but between the food, blood and sweat stains the once white material's got the hues of a nice ripe peach; I gave up the fruit as soon as I moved in. I give him my best charming smile well aware that it aint gunna work, not with my voice crackin like I was 10. “Dunno whatcher talkin about.”
“You 'n that shitty demon havnt paid rent! Its due every fucking FIRST” He waddles his way up to me, shoving a fat finger against my chest and blowing that foul rot he breaths into my face. Hes lucky I didn't yack all over his precious shoes in the state I'm in.
I give a shrug “Banri has it, gave him the money. Said he gave it ta you. Problem with that?”
I really wasn't expecting it but I should have. My head was already in a cloud, feeling like I've been swallowing cactus pears all day. Already feelin like shit the slug across the mug didnt improve my disposition. “Fuckin Smart mouth! Ya pay ME, not HIM. If ya both Dont got the money it means yer BOTH out. Got it!?”
I kinda hear him, head's buzzin too loud to really understand it but I get the jist of it. Peaches is in a bad mood. I'm not sure what's more repulsive, the fact that his boils broke against my face or that the puss felt damned refreshing against my skin. Another heave of my stomach and I attempt stagger to my feet. “Yeh Peaches. I Got it. I'll take care of it.”
The guy seamed like he was having a bad day and needed ta take it out on someone. I was just the fucking idiot that got in his way. I didn't want to get up and he made sure I stayed down. Peaches hits like a girl and I coulda stopped every hit, easily even drunk but I guess my heart wasn't in it with this damned cold is kickin my ass. He stops finally shaking his hand out and cussing with a growl. Red faced and looking like he was on the verge of a heart attack Peaches finally oozes off sayin something about taking the money from my hide. Yeh, I'd like to see that.
Stagging in feeling my face hot as all hell. Fucking got me in the teeth, split my mouth and has rattled a tooth loose that much I'm sure of. As I cough it only confirms the welling pain my head alone is in. Banri. That fucker. Controlling little fuck wanting to be sure to pay the bills, always in his name, not giving a fuck about others. Controlin everyones little move. If I'm out too late with the girls he bitches. If I disappear fer days he's at the door like a nagging wife ignoring me till I find myself almost pleading for him to forgive me. How the fuck did I get so whipped? When I open the door I find Banri fucking about playing solitar. We say nothing and I stagger to the fridge opening the door, gripping the handle tight enough I feel my knuckle whiten.
I swear...this time, I'm gunna let him have it. I feel that rage that ugly demonic side laughing and pleading to get out. Bills aint getting paid. He's half hidin them so that when it comes time they're late. its as if he's tryin ta get our asses kicked. I'm feelin like a tampon, inserted so far up some bitch and used once and then discarded. It pisses me off. I stare at the blank messy shelves that once perhaps weeks ago held food as the stains and left over brown indistinguishable blotches indicate. Say something ya bastard....go for it fucking SAY IT! This time.... I'm gunna rip inta him. Tear his fucking intestine out and make colostomy bags from them. Sell his parts for rent.
“Ya passed it onto me ya fucker” Banri's voice is far more even but there's a soft cough after his sentence. I slowly stand up and blink at him. This is it, gunna tell him what a fuck he is. How useless he is....that hes got such a tiney dick he feels the need to control everythin put others down and rip em apart all to feed some broken ego.
And it triggers....I smirk.”so, ya wanna go for a beer.” like that. It all silences. Why fight it. People will be what they are. There's gotta be someone for everyone to kick about. As my right cheek swells and pulses with the fever and red shaped fist mark I feel all my anger and aggression just disperse, quiet as if the oncoming storm retreated once more ta wait. I realize I'm a coward and fool. I also realize I deserve the shit I let them put me through. Maybe one day I'll grow a backbone, but right now? I'm just tryin to survive- people dont understand this.
this is a more personal one
series: Saiyuki
Characters Gojyo, Hakkai
Rating pg: little romance and more thoughtfulness
“You have such Beautiful hands.”
Since then Hakkai found that he watched others hands more often then most. A subtle gesture, a small mark or scar. He found he could almost read the life of the person those hands belonged to by the calluses, marks and scars like a book, a short biography. He brushed his fingers over Gojyos hand as the man Slept, comparing their hands. Gojyo's skin in comparison had an almond tan making his skin almost pale in comparison. He read the lines and creases that smoothed and blurred, raised and fell with the soft kiss of white scars over the knuckles.
For all Gojyo would say, and with a smile none the less, the Truth was written on these strong hands. Gojyo built his life with his own two hands, fought his way into acceptance and held tightly to what was important to him. The awkward curve his his pinky where it was once broken and never fully set. The knuckle on his ring finger where it too had been broken along with the millions of words scribed in some lost and forgotten book. The soft smudge of ink under his fingertips and nails from the words that Gojyo not only read but had a habit of dragging his fingers along the page and the words he read as if touching the words made them real.
Hakkai marveled at the way the hands flexed and ever so skilfully curved and gripped. The man had talents, the hands of an artist, the hands of a fighter. From a stand off perspective the half yokai's hands were less then beautiful. Like an old vase or chest Hakkai could see how the aches of time and the wears of use and weathering hand turned long awkward fingers into something more beautiful then most, with an untrained eye could see. Soft lips pressed agisnt the crescent shaped scars that danced about the knuckles. To Hakkai, those hands were Beautiful, no matter what the red haired man might say. Dependable skilled hands that gripped onto his friend with the loyalty of an abandoned dog and the courage of a lost child.