#[madara theme intensifies]

[greaterarts]

SHIKITSUHIKOTAMATEMI THE QIRIN GOD

[queencatherynerhys]

Blast To The Past - Liam x MC Fanfic

A/N: I am so excited for this giveaway fanfic #2. This is for you, @katrina86. Thank you for the amazing idea! This is a time travel. Again, credits go to the writing prompt list from @laniquelove. This is #49: Time Travel. I decided to the Roaring Twenties because I love the Great Gatsby era. It was one of my favorite books that I read in high school. Besides who doesn’t love Leonardo DiCaprio? Hope you love it. I did a lot of research for this, so I’m sorry for the delayed post, @katrina86. I also provided lingo dictionary so you don’t get confused with the language.

Summary: What happens when Liam sees a falling star and makes a wish?

Tag List: @captainkingliam @decisso @devineinterventions2 @madaraism @theroyalweisme @drakewalkerwhipped @laniquelove @drakesfiance @hhiggs @hellospunkiebrewster @alicars @mrswalkerreynolds @mfackenthal @simplyaiden-blog @hopefulmoonobject @blackcatkita @cocomaxley @boneandfur @lizeboredom @crayziimaginations @umccall71 @zarina-x-zig @trianiasti @ranishajay @heatherfilliez @flyawayblue56 (using my normal tag)

“Quilt” – a drink that warms the drinker

“Phonus Balonus” – Nonsense!

“Dumb Dora” – an unintelligent woman

“Bubs” – boobs

“Dead soldier” – an empty drink

“Ankle on” – to walk

“Reuben” – a hick or redneck

“Half-seas over” – shitfaced

“Choice bit of calico” – a desirable woman

“Let’s blouse” – we’re out of here

 Liam stands on the balcony of his room, watching the clear, night sky. The stars gleam brightly against the dark background. He just finished packing for his weekend trip to New York City. His friends insisted that they have a proper bachelors party before he is thrown into the ordeal of the social season. He has never been to New York before, so before heading to his quarters he made a stop at the palace library.

He loved that place. It’s one of the few places he can feel close to his mother. She insisted that they fill the bookshelves with all kinds of books and novels. He searched for a book and found one titled “The Historical Atlas of New York City” written by Eric Homberger. As he sat in his balcony, he sifted through the content and pictures of the treasure trove in his hands. He was awed at the wonderful changes the Empire City has seen through every era. He particularly loved the 1920s, or the Roaring Twenties as it was dubbed. He admired the frilly dresses of the women and the vintage attire that the men sported.

Fatigue and anticipation starts to take its toll on him and he gets up to get ready to catch some sleep before leaving early tomorrow morning. A glow in the distant midnight sky catches his eyes. “Wow,” he admires as he watches a star fall from the sky. It was beautiful and serene. He heard that you could make a wish when you see a falling star. He thinks for a moment at the silliness of the idea but decides to make a wish. He remembers the picture of the women and men from the twenties and how they just looked content. He envies that. He wants freedom and some escape from his inevitable path to the throne.

He closes his eyes as he whispers his desire, “I wish to have freedom, even just for a small sliver of time. I wish to experience the same contentment that the people in the 1920s experienced.” He sighs deeply as he released yearning to the universe.

It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep once his body touches the soft comfort of his king-sized mattress. He descends into a deep sleep, something that was new to him since he usually slept light. Morning comes sooner than usual, and Liam stirs awake. He feels his sheet and notice the difference. It’s not as smooth and soft as his normal ones. Maybe I am just tired. He sits up and rubs the blur away from his eyes.

The sight before him clears and he stands abruptly. What the hell? He is not in his room. The bedroom he is in small and mediocre. The walls are painted with an off-white color. An awful blue curtain with paisley patterns drapes the windows. The full-sized bed sits against the wall with a wooden drawer is situated across it. It’s a small space, such a contrast from his royal quarters. This is a prank. It’s an elaborate prank that the guys are playing on me. They spiked me with something and transported me here as part of their bachelor’s party. Isn’t that a tradition?

He goes to the room’s closet to find his luggage, so he can change to a more casual outfit than his pajamas. He opens the dark space, searching for the light switch and flips it on. WHAT THE HELL? Where the hell am I? How the hell did they have time to do this?  He is met with a tiny walk in closet, full of clothes and accessories. His luggage is nowhere to be found and he is growing more frustrated and puzzled by the second.

He cautiously walks in to the closet, eyeing the garments in front of him. His bewilderment increases when he realizes that none of the clothes are his and they seem to be from a different era. Seeing that he couldn’t seem to spot his suitcase anywhere and he really wants to be out of his sleepwear he puts on a pair of gray slacks pairing it with a white button-down shirt and a black sweatshirt jacket. He completes his attire with a blue casual bow tie and black wingtip shoes. He glances in the mirror hanging in the back of the door and taken aback at his choice of wardrobe. He already feels embarrassed by the silliness of his clothing. They are so going to feel the wrath of my revenge. I will have payback. This elaborate prank of theirs will come to bite them in the long road. I swear it.

He shakes his head as he steps out of the tiny space and out in the room. He searches for his phone to call his friends, but he can’t seem to find it anywhere. They must have taken it last night along with my bags. He gives up on finding it and step out of the bedroom. The rest of the small apartment adorned the same painted walls and blue curtains. How in the world did they find this place? Is this a themed party?

“Drake? Maxwell? Tariq? Where in the world are you guys?” he shouts hoping his friends would turn up, but nothing and no one replied. He decides to step out of the building and out onto the street. Just when he thought the surprise has ended. The view in front of him intensified the confusion. His eyes widened as he takes in the sight. This isn’t a prank. He is somewhere else. Some-WHEN else.

Crowds of people bustle about everywhere, on the sidewalk and on the streets. They all don the same type of clothing. Women style dresses of all colors with feathered hats. Men are wearing a variety of sweater coats, suede jackets, and pairs it with dress pants and hats. Liam blends right into the crowd. He feels light headed from the shock and he sit on the cement steps of the building he came out of. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He is mind cannot process this information. It isn’t possible. He is dreaming right now, and he needs to wake up. He slaps and pinches himself hoping to wake from this very inexplicable dream.

A newspaper dispenser catches the corner of his eye and practically runs to it. He takes one to and searches the top for the date. It reads May 26, 1925. Nineteen twenty…what the hell is happening? How the hell is this possible? He recalls the night before with the balcony and the drink, reading the book, then…the falling star. He remembers making the wish. It brought me to the 1920s?! The reality of it all finally hits him, and he looks around him with newfound awe and…excitement. This is the freedom he’s always wanted. No royal guards following his every move. For the first time in twenty-five years he is granted liberty to just be him.

He blends among the crowded walkways and explores the treasures of the roaring twenties has to offer. The first stop on his adventure is a hat store called Worth & Worth. His curiosity peaks as he sees the many different styles and hues of headwear on the shelves. All the men from this time are sporting one I might as well blend in. Fortunately, there is a wallet in one of his pocket pants to buy a hat. He picks a 1920s fedora-style white hat with a black trim going around. He loves the sophisticated quality of the apparel, yet it still has its casual touch.

His explorations consume the day. He went through different stores admiring all the different styles and cultures. He stopped at multiple restaurants tasting the variety of lifestyles through the versatile foods. He was awed at the many arts displayed in The Met. But what rendered him breathless was the sight of the Lady Liberty herself. The radiance of the afternoon sunlight casts an ethereal sense to her features. She was more beautiful than in the pictures. She truly did emit freedom.

He stays there for a few more minutes watching the sun set on the horizon before finding his way back towards his place. On the travel back, a building across the street calls out to him, luring him with its big block letters. The Cotton Club, it reads in neon lights. What an intriguing place. I wonder what type of club it is.

He decides to head back to his place and change before heading to the mysterious club. He changes into a classy white suit, pairing it with a brown vest, blue dress shirt and a yellow tie. His pocket square matches his vest. He feels a little out there, but he didn’t care. His adventures push him to be out of his comfort zone.

He does a 360 turn over in front of the mirror feeling satisfied with his ensemble. He puts on a pair of black oxford shoes with white trimming and the hat he purchased earlier from the day and heads out to the captivating club. He encounters a burly man by the entrance. He exchanges looks with him. The guard looks him up and down and again and then steps aside to let him in.

He is surprised to learn that it wasn’t a club after all. It is a speakeasy with an entertainment show. Booths and table crowd the space with waitresses dressed as flappers running about serving shady looking men. The room is fogged with smoke from cigarettes. Jazz music plays from the band in front of the small, makeshift dance floor.

He finds an empty half-moon shaped booth near the middle, past the shifty men who eyes him as he walks by. He settles in the plush burgundy vinyl seat for a few more minutes before a waitress dressed in an indigo flapper dress walks to him. The intricacy of her outfit is no match for the beauty that she is.

Her brown hair is placed on top of her head in a beautiful updo. Elegant pearls hug her neck and hang from her ears, but it only accentuates her natural exquisiteness. She has fair skin and narrow brown eyes. Her lips are painted red emphasizing the shape of it. And here I thought nothing could top the Statue of Liberty.

“Evening, sugar, I’m Ryne. What can I get you started with tonight?” she breaks him out of his daze. “Oh, hello, I’m Liam. I guess I’ll just have a glass of whiskey. Neat,” he orders still feeling the effects of the spell of her beauty. She squints her eyes suspiciously at him before walking away to fetch his beverage.

A few minutes later, she comes back with his drink, “One neat whiskey for the gentleman.” He thanks and watches her walk away. She gets a few steps in before turning back around and takes a seat in his booth.

“You’re not from here are ya,” she asks, peaking curiosity on her voice. “No. I am not. How did you know?”

“Well, most here are regulars,” her thick, sultry New York accent hypnotizes him. “Careful with the quilt. The prohibition’s made all the drinks strong. It’ll definitely keep ya warm.” His face must’ve registered confusion because she rephrases her sentence, “Watch out for the whiskey. It has a strong kick. Wouldn’t want ya passin’ out, sweetheart. You’re not from here, are ya?”

He hesitates before answering, “No, I am not. I guess it’s pretty noticeable.” He brings the tumbler of amber drink to his lips and takes a sip. He coughs as soon as the content travelled down his throat. She’s right. This does have a kick. Drake would love it.

“Well…where do you hail from then?” she leans in as she asks. He whiffs a scent of jasmine from her perfume and falls deeper into her gorgeous spell. He inches closer to her, as if she’s luring him into her reach. “I’m afraid I really can’t answer that question, Ms. Ryne,” he apologizes.

“Phonus balonus! Now, don’t be a wet blanket. I’m serving you. Least you can do is answer my question,” she protests. He thinks how to best satisfy her inquiry, “I am from somewhere far away, to keep it simple.”

“Visitor, I see? I can tell by the accent. Well, I guess I won’t push ya to tell me,” she flashes a brilliant smile. Before she gets another chance to ask him a question, a man in a beside them hollers for her, “Dumb Dora, bring your bubs and the rest of yourself over here! I have a dead soldier!”

“Well, I guess I better ankle on up there and deal with that Reuben! Nice to meet you, Liam, is it? I’ll see you ‘round, Blue Eyes,” she winks at him as she slides out of the booth back to the bar to fetch the rowdy man a refill. Liam watches Ryne as she moves about the space. He admires how her hips sway, sending all the frills of her dress in frenzy. He eavesdrops her encounter with this man.

“Here’s your refill, sugar, but I must say this is your last one. You’re looking half-seas over!” she says in a chirpy tone. “Nonsense, but I must say you’re a choice bit of calico, baby!” he slurs disgustingly at her. The banter continues for several more minutes with Ryne subtly evading the aggressive passes this man is giving her. Liam finally looks over when he hears her scream at him.

The man has her in his arms, trying to kiss her. She writhes in resistance and yells at the man making a scene in the room, “Bank’s closed, mister!” She slaps him hard on the face and pushes him off her. Liam is now standing from his spot, ready to rescue her if the rude man decides to retaliate. He doesn’t. The obvious drunk passes out on his booth.

Ryne fixes herself before striding up to Liam, “Let’s blouse, Blue Eyes.” She grabs his hand leading him out the door. “Ernie, I’m done for the night,” she looks to the man handling the bar before heading out. When they get to the street and farther away from the tavern, she finally acknowledges him, “Sorry ‘bout that, Blue Eyes. I hope you were done in there, but if not, you can always go back. I can promise better company though.” Again, she puts on a sparkling smile that makes his heart skip a beat. How much did I have to drink? I am not thinking straight. I can’t do anything with this woman. She’s almost 100 years older than I am! His mind and heart struggles with the dilemma, but in the end the heart wants what it wants.

She leads him back to her place. “Make yourself at home. I’m not much of a drinker, but I can offer you water or juice,” she says as she walks to the kitchen. “I’m fine, but thank you,” he replies.

They take a seat on the lavish brown couch. “So, how long are ya in town for, Blue Eyes?” a perfectly trimmed eyebrows raised as she asks her question. “I’m not quite sure,” he truly did not know the answer. He isn’t sure if and how to get back to his own time. Or if he wanted to.

After getting through an awkward phase, the pair settles into a nice flow going from strangers to acquaintances in just a matter of several minutes. Liam finds himself comfortable around her. His guarded persona forgotten by her light, bubbly presence. They spend the night getting to know each other and asking silly questions, laughter filling the spacious living room. Liam doesn’t know the last time he’s truly been able to be himself like this, if there was a time at all.

“You ain’t like those torpedoes in the speakeasy. You’re different,” she observes. “Torpedoes?” he asks confusingly. “I’m sorry, darlin, I forget you’re not from ‘round here. Torpedoes kinda means thug. All the men in there only care about two things: drinking and feeling up the girls. So, thank you for not doing that. You don’t know how hard it is to not slap them in the face,” she clarifies the misunderstanding.

By this time, they are sitting shoulder to shoulder on the couch. Liam feels a clear fascination for her. He wants to spend the rest of the night getting to know her and every part of her. He gazes at her features from the side and perfection is as glorious as the stars in the sky. She catches him looking at her and he tries to feign it, but she smiles flirtatiously at him.

Their faces are nothing but mere inches from each other. An eerie silence blankets the room and electricity passes between them before Liam gives in. He catches her luscious lip with his own, tasting orange juice on them. He can feel her hesitation at first, but her body finds itself drawn to his warmth.

He tangles his fingers in her hair, ruining her delicate updo while his other hand roams on her thigh savoring her smooth, cool skin. She grabs him by one of his lapels pulling him in for a deeper, passionate kiss while grabbing him by the back of his neck to press him more firmly against her.

She feels his tongue brush on her bottom lip, silently asking for permission to enter her mouth. She parts them giving way to his dancing tongue as she moves to straddle his lap. His hands grip the back of her thighs bringing her closer to his body. His desire for her increases by each passing second. He pulls away for a moment to look into her eyes and asks for reassurance, “Are you sure about this?”

“Definitely, Blue Eyes. You intrigue me,” she lustfully replies. With that, Liam loses all inhibitions and they spend the night knowing each other in every level. Their love making moved from the couch to the kitchen and ending in her room.

As the night passes on, Liam holds Ryne close to his chest under the covers. Their legs are tangled, and warmth comforts them to sleep. “That was a perfect ending,” Liam whispers to her ear and kisses her hair. She hums in agreement and he feel her succumb to her sleep. Before closing his eyes, Liam glances out the window and sees another falling star. He smiles as he sinks comfortably to slumber, holding Ryne to him.

Little did he know that he was never going to see her again. He doesn’t if what happened was a figment of his imagination or if it was reality. He decides to believe the latter when he wakes up the next morning back to his current time. Back to his prison life. His heart is heavy when he gets ready to travel f

or his bachelor’s party, the last taste of “freedom”.

His friends notice his beaten demeanor and tries to coax him out of it, but to no avail. “Maxwell, let it go. He doesn’t want to hear any more of you incessant rants about rap battles or dance offs,” Drake scolds his friend. Once again, he is grateful for his best friend looking out for him. He knows him well enough to leave him alone.

All his mind can think of is Ryne and how her body felt as she moved against him. Her sweet lips and beautiful eyes. Her genuine kind personality. He sinks deeper into his sorrow, missing her. How can one-night mean so much? I don’t even know if it was real. It felt real.

They spend the short weekend getaway going through the motions of a traditional party for a bachelor. Tariq takes them to a high-end men’s fashion boutique to get new suits, something to wear during the upcoming social season. Drake grumbles in complaint through the whole ordeal and is finally relieved when it was over.

“Finally! After all that I need a drink. I’ve been looking at some dive bars near us and there’s one a couple of blocks away,” Drake leads them to car to travel to the next itinerary. Liam hasn’t been there 12 hours and he’s already tired, but he marches on for the sake of his friends. They arrive in front of the bar and one by one file out of the black tinted SUV. “You guys go on ahead. I’ll follow along shortly. I’ll help find parking for the car,” Liam says from the car. They knew better than to push it, so they let him drive off. Truly, he just wants a moment to collect his thoughts. Try as he might he can’t get Ryne’s face out of his mind. It’s as if it’s permanently branded in his memories, a fond yet bittersweet memory.

He walks the short block with his guard following close behind. He enjoys the crisp night air. He misses the neon lights of the twenties and the eccentric attire of the crowd. He misses the unlimited freedom he felt during that short span of time. He opens the door to the dive bar Drake found and finds them already seated with a young woman in front taking their orders.

“Four?” she asks Drake and he nods towards his direction. When he sees her face, all the hope he thought was lost comes rushing back like a tidal wave. Shock hits him but he quickly hides it, masking it with genuine interest. Standing in front of him is a young woman with the same exact features as Ryne, right down to the smile.

For the first time since he woke up alone back to his own timeline, he feels genuinely happy. He flashes his princely smile, his eyes once again housing hope. “Sorry I’m late. Thank you for your patience, Miss…” he greets the beautiful woman in front of him. It takes her a moment to collect her senses, “Uh, Catheryne.”

The rest of the night passes by with Liam feeling happy and content. He invites Catheryne to accompany them for the rest of the night. She takes them to a private cove overlooking the Atlantic Ocean. While seating by the bonfire, Liam asks her a question that’s been on his mind since he saw her, “Your name? Is it from a relative? I’m just curious?”

“Oh! Yeah, my mother named me after my grandmother. She said I look just look like her,” she answers simply. She is right about that. She looks exactly like her. Liam finds himself already falling for Catheryne. He knows even if he tried to stop it that it wouldn’t do any good. Catheryne is captivating, just like her predecessor.

Liam thanks the deities for bringing him to that time and leading him to her. Sometimes, the universe aligns the stars on your favor.