#it’s time to face the cold truth… i’ll treasure those memories of him playing forever 🕊️🕊️ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mysteli · 7 years ago

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Endless Summer Imperfect - Chapter 3

A/N: Real quick, just wanna say thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy! I reccommend reading the last chapters if you haven’t already! Enjoy!

Endless Summer Aftermath - Ending 1

Imperfect

Chapter 3 - Princess

Logan

She didn’t know what to say. The world around her had become nothing but a meaningless blur, including Sean’s faded out words. All she could was see him. Her man. Her husband. Her very own Jake McKenzie. The love of her life. The man she thought she’d never see again was stood before her. It was almost surreal, unreal, in fact. Her entire life, she’d never felt this attached to one man but for obvious reasons, she knew she’d never be able to let him go. And now, maybe she won’t have to.

Shifting her eyes slightly passed Sean, her ocean eyes trailed curiously over Jake’s familiarly rugged exterior. Strands of his sandy fawn hair drifted down his forehead, landing over his eyes, but they still didn’t hide the glow in his cerulean eyes. That glisten that could hypnotise anyone who got too close. His olive, tan skin. The military dog tags that dangled from his neck. His memorable khaki jacket. Memories suddenly flooded Logan’s mind. Memories of when Jake would lend her his jacket when she was cold and the special moment when he gave her the dog tags to show her how much he loved her.

Reliving those treasured moments, she smiled softly, still gazing at Jake as he trudged over to the bar, sending suspicious glances at anyone that passed him. Despite the new timeline, the new world and Jake’s unlikely remembrance, Logan knew he was the same guy. The same guy she fell in love with and she was determined to make sure it ended the way they wished it did the first time. An ending where they end up together forever.

All of a sudden, a loud voice disrupted Logan’s longing stare down at her husband, who was sipping on a bottle of whiskey, acting so... obvious. Immediately, Logan shifted her gaze by to Sean, who was eyeing her bewilderedly, eyebrows raised.

“...You okay there, Lo? You kinda zoned out for a second.” Sean pointed out, a genuine look of concern crossed his face, planting a weight of regret on Logan’s shoulders. All she wanted to regain her friendship with Sean, not leading him on only to let him down very uneasily. It took her a moment to respond and cure his worries, her eyes constantly flicking from Jake to Sean.

“I’m... great, actually. I think I just need a drink. How about I go get us a round from the bar?” Logan suggested, a forced smile fixed on her lips. In time, she’d attempt to rebuild her friendship with Sean. Right now, all she wanted was Jake.

“You know, we can just order drinks.” Sean pointed out, pointing to a nearby table, where a waiter is passing drinks to a middle-aged couple. Not sure what to say, Logan chuckled lightly, the nerves fighting to escape their protective cage.

“Oh please, I insist. What do you want?” She insisted, instantly standing up and checking the bar to make sure Jake was still there. A sigh of relief was released when she caught sight of him once more, a few empty glasses next to him. Of course, he was drinking away his troubles.

“Alright then, I’ll have a vodka. Hurry back.” Sean responded, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. He hunted in his pockets for some money but Logan shook her head, smiled lightly and made her way over to the bar, her legs starting to shake and weaken the closer she got to Jake.

He remained seated on a creaky bar stool, constantly sipping from a bottle of whiskey. Unfazed, no emotion touched his eyes. However, his eyes watered now and then from the strong affect of the whiskey he was repeatedly drinking.

Finally, on limited balance, she reached the bar, sitting two seats away from Jake, making sure she wasn’t getting too close for comfort. Noticing her, the bartender approached Logan, eyeing her expectantly, while cleaning a glass with a cloth.

“A vodka and a... whiskey, please.” Logan asked politely, her order seeming almost instinctive as she glanced at Jake’s half-consumed bottle. It must have been his third one. In response, the bartender nodded nonchalantly before preparing to make the drinks. An awkward feeling suddenly reached Logan, as she kept a close eye on Jake, whose expression remained still. Her deep thoughts were interrupted by a familiar husky voice ringing in her ears.

“Whiskey. Good choice.” The voice muttered, almost as if he was congratulating her. Of course, that raw voice belonged to Jake McKenzie. Her sapphire gaze darted over to him, only to find him squinting at her, almost as if he was trying to figure her out.

Logan was so starstruck by the situation and she didn’t know what to say. Hell, she couldn’t process the entire situation. Seeing him again was so damn overwhelming that she felt like she couldn’t form words anymore. In the end, she decided to play it like she did when they first met.

“I always thought so.” She agreed, retrieving the glass of whiskey once it was placed onto the bar by the bartender. In the corner of her eye, she could feel Jake staring at her intently, as she sipped her glass of whiskey very slowly, her pale hands shaking slightly. Her nerves seemed to be getting the best of her at that moment. Everything still didn’t make sense. Finally, she turned to face him but his eyes didn’t shift away from her. “Who are you staring at?”

Jake couldn’t help but chuckle at her obvious sarcastic response. His laugh was the exact same, like everything else about him was.

“Oh yeah, I was checking out that painting of that ship, of course. I think I might have a chance.” Jake joked, turning his attention from the alcohol in front of him for the first time and focusing on Logan, watching her giggle lightly at his unusual comment. “Huh. You like that joke, Princess?”

Oh. My. God. Princess. Jake called her Princess. Why the hell would he call her Princess? Maybe this was what was meant to happen or maybe it was just a coincidence. A misunderstanding. Like most things seem to be. Or maybe it meant something. Something important. Maybe he feels familiar with her. Maybe there’s some part of him that remembers. At that moment, all Logan wanted to do was relive their first interaction.

“Princess?” She enquired, a sly smirk crossing her lips and Jake scanned her briefly. He seemed like he knew what was going to happen next. Like he was aware of how Logan would act and what she would say. But in the best way possible.

“What can I say? I give nicknames to people that annoy me.” Jake follows up with the same line he delivered on the plane to La Huerta. It caused shivers to scramble up and down Logan’s spine, especially when it came to how he said it. It gave her the same feeling it did the first time. Anticipation like she’d never felt it before. The first time, she wasn’t aware of what exactly the feeling was but he’d affected her with it so many times, it practically came naturally now.

A huge part of her wanted to continue to play the conversation out the same as the first time. But a small part wanted to explore other options and lead back to that key interaction.

“Oh, so I annoy you then?” Logan enquired, folding her arms dramatically and faking an insulted expression. Jake couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his slightly chapped lips at her exaggeration.

“Everyone annoys me, Princess. You’ll learn that soon enough.” Jake retorted, dropping his voice to a raw, captivating whisper. Almost instinctively, he retrieved his many bottles of whiskey from the bar and scooted over to the next seat, closer to Logan, which caused the hairs on her arms to stand up. Once he reached the seat beside her, he smirked at Logan, raising his glass towards her, offering a toast. “To annoying people...”

“And plenty of whiskey.” Logan finished the toast, a genuine smile crossing her lips for the first time in a while. This was all she ever wanted. Was to see Jake Mckenzie. All she’d done this entire month was miss him and it pained her to assume that she’d never see him again. But now, here she is, graced with his presence once more.

“So... what are you doing at a a place like this, Princess?” Jake questioned, leaning his folded arms against the edge of the bar, eyeing Logan expectantly.

It took her a moment to think about her response, as she didn’t know if she should lie or tell her truth. However, an instinct inside prevented her from wanting to lie to Jake. “Actually, I’m on a date.” She admitted, tossing a strand of her platinum hair behind her ear, seeming slightly embarrassed.

“A date?” Jake reacted, raising an eyebrow at Logan, clearly surprised but the smirk remained locked on his face. “Yet you are sitting at the bar with... me, for some reason, instead of enjoying your time here with your date. Hell, I don’t blame you. He shouldn’t bring a Princess to this dump of a place. The whiskey’s so damn sour.” Just as Jake finished his complaining, the bartender looked his way, eyes narrowed. Unfazed, Jake shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, slumping back like it never happened. Amused, Logan couldn’t help but let out a light giggle.

“Clearly my real name doesn’t matter to you.” Logan pointed out, folding her arms at his constant use of the nickname, acting irritated but really... she loved it.

“I don’t know your real name.” Jake retorted, his smirk widening, as he chugged down some more of the whiskey. With that, Logan did the same, trying to hide her sheepish smile behind the glass. “The name’s Logan. Logan Mercer.” She said to a smug Jake, her tone low and forced, almost mocking. At that point, Jake let out a chuckle that was louder than intended.

“Chill out, James Bond.” He joked, relaxing his expression and returning to his unfazed state. “Besides, I still prefer Princess.”

At that comment, Logan felt like her heart was about to explode. It was all those first feelings all over again. He had revisited all the things that made her fall in love with him in the first place. If only he knew what was going on in her head, how fast her heart was beating, how much she loved him. If only he... remembered.

“Fine. I’ll let you call me Princess if I get to call you something in return.” She suggested, attempting to bargain with Jake in an unusual way. She arched her eyebrows slightly and his surprised expression told her that he was definitely intrigued.

“Alright then. Do your worst.” He dated her, smirking devilishly once more. By then, Logan immediately knew what she wanted to call him. How about we revisit some old classics? She thought to herself, a sly smirk of her own slowly forming.

“I’m gonna call you Aragorn.” She finally revealed, her voice dropping to a whisper, clearly affecting Jake. For a moment, he closed his eyes and released a heavy sigh, which felt like a puff of smoke in Logan’s face. Shaking off the feeling, he chugged more of his whiskey, more forcefully than before.

“Aragorn? I... don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jake muttered, his cerulean eyes falling to stare at the rusty floor of the restaurant and Logan knew exactly what to say next. She loved this moment they shared, how Jake’s first feelings came into play, even if he didn’t notice what was happening at first. Most of this was terrifying and heartbreaking but some part of Logan was excited to relive it all, if Jake would let her.

“Lord of the rings?” She enquired, holding back a laugh when she noticed how Jake’s sapphire eyes rolled. He was definitely blocking a chuckle too.

“Nope. Never heard of it.” He dismissed the entire idea and Logan accidentally slipped out a soft giggle and Jake instantly knew she was playing with him.

“You’re a bad liar.” She pointed out, leaning her head against her fist that was rested on the edge of the bar. Her every move caused unusual feelings to jolt through Jake and he didn’t like it.

“Fine. Call me Aragorn. I like it. Man was a badass.” Jake finally stopped protesting and gave in, literally throwing his hands up in complete and unconditional surrender. Like he would only do for her. Suddenly, he leaned forward, getting slightly closer but still too far away for Logan’s liking. “Your date’s staring at us.”

A wave of realisation washed over Logan. She forgot all about Sean. Cautiously, she swerved around to meet his wary gaze, as he watched Logan and Jake carefully, eyeing Jake especially. For some reason, she didn’t care but she knew that her plan to regain all friendships would be harder if she messed up this date.

“How’d you know that was my date?” She questioned, flicking her gaze back to Jake, who seemed surprised at her lack of interest in her own date.

“He keeps glaring at me and checking you out, might I add.” Jake acknowledged, his smirk widening once more and he stroked his subtle stubble thoughtfully, flicking his gaze from Sean to Logan repeatedly. “He looks kinda familiar.”

“That’s cause that’s Sean Gayle. I’m sure you’ve seen plenty of his football games.” Logan stated, clearly hinting something and referencing back to Jake being a super fan of Sean. A teasing look reached her ocean eyes and he furrowed his eyebrows at her.

“Damn. That’s him. He’s not as pretty as he is on the TV.” Jake pointed out, scanning Sean briefly before accidentally speaking his thoughts aloud. His face went red momentarily but he immediately relaxed when heard a playful giggle escape from Logan.

“I guess he’s okay.” She responded, running a hand through her radiant, blond hair and taking a deep breath, almost as if she didn’t wanna go back, which she didn’t. All she wanted to do was stay and talk to Jake, continue to reconnect with him. She was sure he didn’t want her to leave either. “I’d better go back. I promised him a vodka.” She admitted reluctantly, standing up from the extremely creaky stool. One last time, she scanned Jake’s exterior, wanting to be familiar with his appearance again. Soon, she realised she’d been staring much longer than intended.

“Princess, you still with me?” Jake questioned, waving his hand at her repeatedly. His words sparked another memory in Logan’s mind. That event when they were in search for the island’s heart, in order to save Quinn’s life. That blinding light struck them all once they’d found it and she remembered the feeling of Jake’s hand entwining with hers and his words echoing in her ear over and over again.

You still with me, Princess?

“Logan?” Jake’s husky tone snapped her out of her trance and returned her to the unbearable reality that she was forced to suffer in because of a stupid and pathetic choice she made. “You alright?”

“Just... peachy.” Logan assured, grabbing the glass of vodka and a glass of whiskey from the bar. Well, the only one that was actually full. However, deep down, she didn’t wanna leave. Honestly, all she wanted was hold Jake again, kiss him again and hear him say that he loves her. What if she never sees him again after this? What if he up and leaves and moves on? She started to turn away but then remembered something and met Jake’s eyes one final time. “By the way, I never got your name.”

“I thought it was Aragorn.” Jake joked, folding his arms in an amused manor, his smirk relaxing slightly. A teasing look dominated his cerulean eyes.

“Your actual name.” She corrected, expecting him to make that joke. However, she laughed it off easily. Jake seemed to consider it for a moment, uncertain what to say. Of course, he was contemplating whether he should give Logan his real name or not. It was obvious. It was all over his face. The questions practically popped out of his head. Logan expected something fake or made up but his next response took her completely by surprise.

“The name’s Jake. Jake... McKenzie.” He admitted, smiling genuinely for the first time. Logan tried her to best to keep her jaw from dropping and keep her eyes from widening, as she knew it would reveal to Jake that she recognised him as a the great criminal. Instead, she sighed in disbelief. Jake didn’t just tell his first name, he told her his full name. The main way that people recognise him. Maybe she thought Logan would understand or just felt like he had to tell her for reasons he can’t explain. Or maybe it was accidental. Who knows?

“See ya round, Aragorn.” Logan waves at him before making her way back to Sean, who she almost completely forgot about.

As expected, Sean greeted her with narrowed eyes, clearly not impressed with her momentary disappearance. Silently, she placed the glass of vodka in front of him, the extremely strong smell diving up her nose as she did. Then, she made her way to her seat and sat down back down, placing her half-full of whiskey on the edge of the table, not bothering to get a coaster. An uncomfortable minute of silence overwhelmed the two of them, like they were mourning the loss of the once-pleasing aura of their date. At this point, all Logan wanted to do was leave but at the same time, she wanted to help Sean.

— Sean Finally, Sean relaxed his chestnut gaze, slumping his shoulders, unsure what to say. He was confused and felt like he had lost his mind. Why the hell did it bother him that she was talking to another guy? This date just seemed like a rebound anyway but maybe Sean didn’t want it that way. Honestly, truthfully, it really didn’t bother him that.

Because this was his first date since Michelle, he wanted it to work. He didn’t want it to mess up since he was actually attracted to Logan. He actually liked her. But you know it’s a huge red flag when it doesn’t affect you when your date is interacting with a stranger at the bar. Maybe this was a mistake. However, Sean would want nothing more than to become friends with Logan.

Another moment of silence invaded and Logan’s face fell even more, the awkwardness getting to her head. Finally, Sean cleared his throat.

“So... who were you talking to?” He asked, trying to keep his voice and body language as idle as possible. A sigh of relief was released by Logan, as the anxiousness in her eyes died down but didn’t completely disappear. It took her a long moment to respond and think about her answer.

“Nobody. Just an... old friend of mine.” Logan muttered, her voice shaky and lost in her own words. Despite her attempts to cover it up, it was clear that she was lying. Slightly suspicious, Sean furrowed an eyebrow at her.

“An old friend or an old boyfriend?” He enquired, his gaze falling to stare hopelessly at the table. This was going much worse than he ever imagine. Struck by his words, Logan closed her eyes, releasing a sigh of shame.

“You got me. This isn’t going too well, is it?” She assumed timidly, dusting her shoulders as if she was dusting away her nerves. It was obvious she was thinking the same thing as Sean. They both wanted to end this as politely as possible cause that’s just the type of people they were.

“I think we both know it’s not.” Sean pointed out and Logan nodded fairly quickly, looking relieved that it wasn’t just her who thought that. With that, Sean sheepishly gazed at the table again, awaiting for Logan to get up and leave. However, a minute passed and she remained seated in front of him when he lifted his eyes back to her.

“How about... we don’t class this as a date anymore? Let’s just call it friends hanging out, since we know this isn’t very... romantic.” Logan suggested, folding her arms and smiling sweetly. With a sigh of relief, Sean nodded, pleased that she wasn’t completely irritated with his company and he loved knowing that she wanted to be friends.

“I’d like that.” He agreed, returning with a genuine grin of his own, grateful that Logan was staying. However, his smile faltered when he noticed how Logan took one last glance at the bar, realising that the stranger she was talking to before... was gone. It took her moment to turn back and she forced a smile weakly.

For the next hour or two, Sean and Logan spent the time chatting and discussing with one another. It was quite pleasant and there were even a few laughs added in there. To Sean, it felt quite amazing to talk to a girl that didn’t want romantic intentions with him. He wasn’t used to girls just being friendly and not having to let them down nicely so it was nice to be able to just talk to someone normally, if you will and not have to think about anything.

Eventually, they both finished their food and exited the restaurant. After a short stroll to the dorms, they reached Logan’s room. They faced each other, smiling more than they had the entire time.

“I’m sorry it didn’t really work out... romantically.” Logan apologised, smiling reassuringly at Sean, who was admittedly slightly disappointed with the outcome of the no longer date.

“It’s cool. At least we can be friends.” Sean replied, shoving his hands in his pockets and allowing his shoulders to slump.

“I’d like that.” She confirmed, kissing Sean on the cheek sweetly, before gripping the handle of the dorm door. “Goodnight, Q.B.”

“Night, Lo.” Sean waved her goodbye, before watching her wander inside her dorm. After that, he sighed heavily, mentally kicking himself for being so... understanding. Why should he be? After all that, at least he gained a friend. A person he knew would be an amazing friend. However, that was the point, it ended with them being just friends.

Shaking off the weird feeling, Sean finally exited the dorms and made his way back to his own, knowing he wasn’t ready for a new relationship just yet.

Finally, he arrived to his own dorm and he lazily gripped the handle and opened the door. As soon as he waltzed inside, he caught a glimpse of his roommate, Craig, planted on his bed and playing video games, his dark eyes glued to the TV, as it reflected in them. It took Craig a while to notice Sean until he threw his jacket on Craig’s head, startling him.

“Hey, dude! What the hell was that for?” Craig complained, flicking his eyes back to the game he was playing. His eyes narrowed when he realised he had died. “Great. You killed me.”

Unfazed, Sean tried his best to hold back a chuckle as he threw himself on his own bed, rubbing his face tiredly.

“Sorry,” was all Sean replied with, not caring about being nice and polite anymore. He was tired of being the good guy or maybe that was just the alcohol talking.

“What’s up, bro? Did your date not go all?” Craig questioned in an obvious mocking tone. In response, Sean rolled his eyes, throwing a pen at Craig but he caught it before it could hit him. “Nice try.”

“It’s not that it didn’t go well. It just didn’t end like a date.” Sean admitted, not sure why he was telling Craig any of this. Then again, he was his best friend.

“Seriously? You got friend zoned by her? Usually, you’re the one doing that, bro!” Craig joked, laughing obnoxiously as he spoke. Irritated, Sean put his hands behind his head and leaned back against the headboard of his bed.

“I really don’t wanna talk about it.” Sean pleaded with Craig to not push the topic any further but when did he ever listen to anything anyone said.

“Oh come on, what kind of girl would turn down dating the quarterback?” Craig questioned, seemingly genuinely curious for once. He folded his arms, eyeing Sean expectantly. Reluctantly, Sean sat up and looked Craig dead in the eye.

“Her ex-boyfriend showed up and she ended up talking to him. Things kinda went downhill from there.” Sean admitted, stroking his jaw thoughtfully as he relived the uncomfortable few minutes. Then suddenly, something occurred to him. “The weird thing was... I sorta recognised him.”

“Recognised him? Why... did you date him as well?” Craig joked again, a goofy grin crossing his lips. Sean lashed another pen at him and Craig couldn’t think quick enough that time and it pounded his head. “Damn. Save your skills for the field, Sean.”

“I’ve never dated him. He just looked familiar to me.” Sean corrected, folding his arms and contemplating carefully.

“Maybe he just looks like someone you know. Just let it go, bro. It didn’t work out with you and Logan so it doesn’t matter anymore.” Craig assured, getting up and heading to the bathroom.

“I guess so.” Sean muttered, his voice so low that Craig couldn’t hear. For a moment, Sean just sat there, caution flooding his eyes. He wasn’t sure what to think about the situation but he was positive that he’d seen that weird man before. But where?

— Jake The next day arrived fairly quickly, the blinding rays of the sun overflowing in Jake’s eyes, even though he’d barely opened them. He hoped that the weather would be colder over here but it was still as sweltering as Costa Rica. Despite the fact that he was living in an abandoned alleyway, the sun still managed to find him in an instant. Well, it was a better job then the police’s attempts to find him. Everything felt so different now that he was back here. Everything was so... unfamiliar.

However, he’d been away for 5 years. Of course some things would be different. He still struggled to understand why he chose Hartfeld of all places. He felt drawn to it or maybe it was cause of how secluded it was, even though the news had managed to spot him almost immediately. But he couldn’t stop himself from going to the university. It was almost instinctive and he knows he shouldnt have done it but he couldn’t stop himself.

Then, there was last night and the mysterious princess he’d met. The princess that had been on his mind. The princess that intrigued him more than anyone ever had. The princess that made him want to risk everything just to see her. Everything was fine until she walked up to the bar and ordered a whiskey of all things. She was just different and interesting than anyone he’d ever met before and that drew him in more than anything. All he wanted right now was to see her but he couldn’t go out much. He was already shoplifting food and drinks in his black hoodie to make sure no one recognised.

Another reason he chose Hartfeld, terrible security.

Finally, on the sun’s insistence, he rose from the scatty and uncomfortable bench he’d been restlessly sleeping on. Lately, his energy had been critically low but he didn’t care. He only really counted on food to keep his going and that was mostly just a few odd apples and plenty of whiskey. At some point, he had some money but he wasted it all on whiskey last night. Well, Jake wouldn’t say wasted. It was for a good cause.

Reluctantly, Jake lifted himself up and leaned down to fetch the leftover whiskey he stole from the bad last night and chugging it down as if he was dangerously dehydrated, which he sort of was. But definitely not on whiskey. Just water, which he hadn’t consumed in days. Lately, Jake had been feeling hopeless, which wasn’t different than what he usually felt. But he felt lost. And it had been hard to survive since Mike disappeared. It had been for Jake to run since all he wanted was find his best friend. His brother, even. He wouldn’t have gotten through the last few years if it wasn’t for Mike and to leave and forget about him just seemed wrong.

See, this was the real reason why Jake came to the USA. Why he came to Hartfeld. Because of Mike. On the night he disappeared, Jake was left with a mere note to go off with the words Hartfeld. Immediately, Jake knew where that was, in the state he wasn’t supposed to go but he did anyway, to save Mike. What was worse was that Jake had no clue who wrote that. The most simple suspect would have been Mike himself but Jake refused to believe that he would just leave like that. Someone must had taken him or maybe Jake was being misunderstood, as usual.

Since then, Jake had refused to give up and all he could do was keep as low of a profile as possible. His main rule was to never reveal his real name. However, he kinda broke that rule last night, telling it to the mysterious princess. (He knew her name but he liked referring to her like that). It was odd, almost like an instinct. For some reason, he felt like he couldn’t lie to her. He felt like he had to tell her the truth and half of him regrets that choice. But the other half is begging to see her again. He just... feels like he knows her.

And maybe, somehow, on instinct alone, Jake has a feeling that she may be connected to Mike.

—

Grace Breathe. Just breathe. You’re gonna be fine. Grace continued to convince herself that all her troubles didn’t exist. That everything was gonna go exactly the way she wanted it to. Nothing was gonna get in the way. Her mother would understand because she loves her daughter.

That’s right, Grace was on her way to meeting her mother for a midday lunch. Her mother wanted to discuss her daughter’s “future”. Of course, Grace knew what her mother expected. For her to follow in the honoured Blair Hall’s groundbreaking footsteps and keep up with the traditions. But lately, Grace has had doubts. She’d never wanted to take over the business her mother created. It was never in the cards for her. And no matter her mother tried to convince her that it was the right path, Grace would never be persuaded. Right now, she didn’t know what she wanted but it definitely wasn’t this.

Since forever, Grace wanted to work for everything she had instead of allowing to be given to her. Her mother respected that, saying that Grace would have to work for the opportunity to take over the company. But was that really true? Because when Blair does retire, it will be immediately be given to the next heir. And that was, of course, Grace.

Grace continued to contemplate with herself, clutching the sides of her books tightly and pulling them against her chest. Nerves creeped up her arms and she struggled to form thoughts. She closed her eyes, trying to relax until...

BANG!

She slammed into someone and before she could regain her balance, her petite figure fell to the floor, her many books raining down with her - scattering.

“Oh. Are you alright?” A voice asked her in the most polite tone she’d ever heard. The helpful voice definitely belonged to an Englishmen, judging by the accent.

Rubbing her head, she glanced at the figure who had kneeled down beside her, some of her books he gathered for her to retrieve. Awestruck, she admired the extremely tall man in front of her.

He was quite pale and the sun illuminated that very well. With platinum blond hair and tinted blue eyes, he was one of the most amazing men she’d ever seen. Her huge, chestnut eyes widened with eagerness and intrigue, as she instinctively took his free hand, which he had held out to her.

“Excuse me? Are you... still here?” The English man asked, anxiousness rolling into his sky blue eyes. Realising how long she’d been staring, she snapped herself out of her trance, focusing her attention on the books he’d retrieved.

“Oh, are those my books?” Grace questioned, smiling at him weakly and his eyes dropped to look at him, the bright colours echoing at the sun.

“Um... yes. Here you are.” He muttered, coughing in order to clear his throat. Grace batted her eyelashes thankfully and obtained her books from him. They both eyed each other intently for a moment.

“...Thank you very much... umm...” Grace attempted to thank him, realising she was unaware of his name.

“...Aleister.” He answered, almost reluctantly which caused the joy in Grace’s heart to die slightly. He didn’t seem to like her or wanna talk to her.

“I’m Grace.” She returned the favour by telling him her name, cheering up slightly as she offered him a handshake. Rubbing the back of his head, he contemplated for a moment before returning the handshake which caused Grace to release a sigh of relief. It was like she’d been holding her breath that entire time.

“Nice to meet you, I suppose.” Aleister responded, his tone dropping the more he said and that hurt Grace a bit. Even a pigeon could tell he didn’t wanna be there. He just wanted to leave. “Nice to meet y-“

Before Grace could finish, Aleister chimed in, arching his eyebrows all of a sudden, anger and annoyance taking over his once nonchalant expression.

“You do know why I helped you, don’t you?!” He snapped, folding his arms in an arrogant manor. All Grace could was shake her head, confused and bewildered. “Well, let me enlighten you. It’s because you were in my way! Not because I wanted to be helpful. Am I clear?”

For a moment, Grace couldn’t speak. She didn’t know what to say. If she tried, it would just come out as a stutter.

“AM I CLEAR?!” Aleister shouted, his deafening tone screaming through the courtyard, causing a lot of faces to look their way. A redness reached Grace so she stared at the ground, completely embarrassed.

“Y-Yeah.” was all she managed to respond with, like the world was forcing her too. With that, she yanked the rest of her books from the floor and ran away, leaving Aleister left with angry glares going his way.

Once she reached a secluded corner at the side of the college, she took a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears. But she couldn’t. She let them shower down her face and drown her in her own sorrow. It was stupid and pathetic as to why she was crying. But she didn’t care. How could someone being that cruel? What did she do wrong?

Now she was late for the lunch with her mother, so she dried her tears, tried to make herself look at least a little presentable and started towards the coffee house, shaking off the sadness as best as she could.

—

Logan

Later, Logan returned to her dorm, coming face to face with an empty room. Zahra must be out, she thought. That meant she had the whole place to herself for the night. So, she planned to distract herself with a good movie and lots and lots of snacks. Maybe some time alone would take her mind off things, especially that disastrous date with Sean. She didn’t even wanna think about it... or Jake, since she probably won’t be seeing him ever again.

Humming to herself, she wandered over to the window, gazing at the beautiful night sky, where the semi-full moon stood dominate and its worshippers, the stars, remained scattered across the sky. She prepared to close the lilac curtains until something unbelievable caught her eye. Jake McKenzie was wandering around the courtyard of the college?! Where there are security cameras EVERYWHERE?! And where ANYONE could see him and call the POLICE at any time?

Instantly, Logan’s jaw dropped and her ocean eyes narrowed, squinting to make sure it was him. And it was. She recognised that broad, chiselled figure immediately and the moon emphasised his fawn, sandy locks. He was wandering around in circles aimlessly, like he didn’t know he was going or why he was even there in the first place. Suddenly, he swerved around, his bright cerulean reflected by the glorious moon. His eyes focused on Logan whose was shook from the sight of him. Once he noticed her, a smile broke out on his face and his eyes lit up. Why was he happy to see her and what the hell did he want?

No, no. The real question was: Why was Jake McKenzie even here in the first place?

#Endless Summer #Jake McKenzie #Jake x mc #quinn kelly #estela montoya #sean gayle

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roastedlizlow · 6 years ago

Text

Series: Collar x Malice Pairing: Okazaki Kei/Hoshino Ichika Prompt: Cold Embrace WC: 3706 Author’s Note: MAJOR SPOILERS for the BLIGHTED Ending for his route! This also involves a bit a content from the TRAGIC LOVE BOOKLET from CxM U’s LE (in a way, but regardless, what really counts is that this here? SPOILERS). I guess that gives away that this isn’t happy, if the prompt didn’t already. Anyway, I’m rather fond of Kei, and his Blighted End really, really got me. The booklet didn’t help either. There are things that are slightly different about this than the actual ending, but it’s still the same vein in all its painful glory.

ALSO READ ON -> AO3 !

Please. Please. He’s never wanted something more in his life. He’s never... truly loved someone like her. So, why, why is the warmth she’s supposed to be so full escaping her? Why, why is the world that was slowly expanding collapsing in? How, how is the chill that envelops him fair at all?

He wraps his arms around her, clinging, as if she’ll disappear. But she, she’s returning that strength, as if telling him to trust her, because she wants to trust him too. What echoes in these movements? What does he really want? What... does she really want? Curving her fingers more in his shirt, she knows his keen senses pick up her heartbeat, but how does it he interpret it?

She can’t tell at all.

“Okazaki-san..?”

“Mm..?”

He kisses the top of her head, he’s so close to her, the adorable “Neko-san” that became his one . But a question still rises from her, lingering on the tip of her touch before she manages to let it out.

“Why... Why do you feel so cold?”

Distant? His body? Whatever could she mean by that?

He pulls back a bit, so he can look her in the eyes, and smile his usual smile, “Because, Ichika-chan, my heart stopped when I thought I couldn’t see you..”

“Geez...” Ichika pouts, shaking her head, “that’s... not fair, Okazaki-san.”

“It’s because you’re no fair.”

He says it so casually that her heart feels like it, too, might stop. How embarrassing... but, there’s something deeper, something troublesome still brewing, as though this distance might solidify, as though his meaning of shielding her, even now, is for meaning.

“Well, with a face as red as that, you’ll warm me up, right~?”

“Eh..?!” She’s not winning this at all! Yet, that frost is worrying, ever still. She knows there’s a lot Okazaki must come to on his own terms, but if there’s any chance at all, that she can see this through to the end with him, then she wants to.

The words she can’t say yet, but she wants to. She’ll tell him when it’s over. Push through, finish to the truth, as far as they can. He, whose been by her side for all this time, how long can they live their lives? She wants to... be beside him, protect him just as he has her. Evenness, fairness, hope. For all the things that have been breathed, for hope.

For closure.

For...

It’ll be okay. I can’t run. I want to know the truth, and stop X-Day from happening. And... I hope that the time can come where Okazaki-san can be happy.

How can she manage something to put her at ease, so that they’ll keep working together, so that she can get to know him more, so that their days will not be numbered so? Think, think, think..!

Once she manages to pull back enough, and his hand moves to, as usual, grab her own, it hits her, and she tries to make the first move on it. Kei is faster, snatching her hands up, but she cannot back down now, she decides, in full, and fights to wrap her pinky around his.

“I see...” Kei says, nodding, “It’s no good to worry you at a~ll.”

Putting her lips together, Ichika returns the nod with assured determination. Where did her words go? Did the SP officer become a thief and steal them away?

“Okay~ One, two--” And Kei, not missing a beat, squeezes her pinky and rocks their hands back and forth just slightly, as he and Ichika begin the chant.

“Cut a finger... should you lie~”

Even when the gesture is complete, Kei doesn’t let go. Perhaps it’s because he had planned to hold her hand anyway, his entire body moving closer to her as he plays more and more into the fun he’s having teasing her. “Ehhhh? Wait... Does that mean if I break it, I’ll have to break my fingers? Ichika-chan, that’s cruel,” he frowns, but no one could call it real, by any means, “You’ll have to take responsibility if that happens and be my hands.”

“That’s, that’s not it, Okazaki-san!” Ichika quickly says, “A-And, wait, please don’t actually--!” Her protests are lost in the moment, and soon she gets caught up in his smile, finding herself going with the slight swing of their hands. Flustered, she tries to regain her footing in her words. Where does the seriousness begin and the seriousness end? Would he really be about losing it all for her?

Why?

A world without the other “isn’t worth living” would be the first thought but, really, if one is to pass, then who would be there to share the good stories, the bad ones, bumpy, smooth, even one encounter can impact a person, forever. There’s so much that they haven’t experienced.

“Mmn! It’s a promise.”

Given the time frame... please, don’t let the ice shatter.

---

The scene is has been set, arriving in the nick of time. Sanjou gives them their build to a finale, and now, in what looks like an abandoned church, in this underground hideout, Kei and Ichika face off their true opponents. Kei fires at their on-site leader, and at the same moment, another pistol is charged. Kei’s bullet? It hits his mark. But, it is silent to him, for only a single gunshot punctures the air, echoing throughout the near-empty corridors. The reverberation is piercing, causing the tension to rise even more. Harder to breathe, harder to think. Time seems to slow, even if it’s mere seconds. The truth of the matter does not escape him.

Indeed, he knows it, instantly.

The other bullet didn’t fly from her gun. And the knees hitting the ground? Those are hers.

“Ichika-chan!”

He rushes to her side. A swear, a promise, an oath, meaningless. How are they — how is he — worth a damn thing if he can’t even do the one job he has in this world?

Please. Please . He’s never wanted something more in his life. He’s never... truly loved someone like her. So, why, why is the warmth she’s supposed to be so full escaping her? Why, why is the world that was slowly expanding collapsing in? How, how is the chill that envelops him fair at all? Lips, quivering, trying to smile, trying to tell him that it’s alright.

“Oka... zaki...san... I... Pro... You... Li...”

Save you strength. Don’t leave me. You can’t die. You absolutely cannot die. I won’t forgive you, I won’t forgive you, for leaving me alone. So shut up. Shut up and focus on--!!

He hates that he sizes up the situation so quickly. She’s beyond help. That flame flickers out, and she’s gone. No longer will he see her smile.

No longer will he hear her laugh.

The tears he can never wipe again, the hand he will never hold again. He grabs it, it’s freezing. Her forehead lurches forward, and if it wasn’t for his own, she would have already fallen over entire. Limb, soulless, he can’t see her eyes, once such a lively green, but he knows they have lost their gleam.

He, he was supposed to protect her, not the other way around.

Why, why is he alive?

Why, why isn’t it her?

Why, why can’t he just... die?

He had told her, told her that it meant everything to him to have her there, supporting him. His most precious person, the one that helped open the treasure box he was missing, who so stubbornly stared back at him and got angry at him when he continued to bear things alone. The reason he promised himself into a future, that he wanted. All these words had been the only thing he could bake without burning to a crisp, but even that much failed.

Without her, what future is there?

He presses the barrel of his pistol to his head, swearing that it’s the only wisp of warmth left in this forsaken place. Yet, her words run through his head, and despite being so close, he press the finger that’s on the trigger down. Always being saved. Always using space. Things are simpler when he’s asleep.

Things were better with her in his future.

Maybe it’s her spirit’s hand touching his own, preventing him from letting everything else go. She, the one afraid of horror stories, becoming a ghost to make him remember her words, her will. Live... and share the memories... No matter how little, no matter how many more he wanted. What is he to do? How will he be able to do anything she wanted, when he was only beginning to see the sun, the moon, and the stars? When he was just waking up?

She’d... want him to try.

He broke one promise. The one to protect her. So, he absolutely cannot fail to carry out her last will. That is a cause... worth dying for.

Ah, that’s no good... She... would tell me it’s worth living for. But I wanted...

Kei lets out a weak, knowing laugh, and only does the sound of footsteps move his attention from her, to the source. Still, he supports her body as best he can, pulling his gun away from himself to aim at the new opponent. The one that must be the boss, the cause of all this. The reason she’s no longer able to fight the battle that she didn’t run from.

“You--! I’ll stop you and expose Adonis! It was her last wish, and she entrusted it to me!”

But speeches are merely speeches, and actions speak much louder. Yet again, bullet grazes the air, blackens the sky. Sharp, mere seconds, and then nothing but tunneled, fading, and the blurring hallucination of her in a plain white dress, stained, breaking, and floating away.

---

His eyes open slowly. Never has he slept so poorly. Funny, the man who can sleep with no problem in an alleyway, feeling like this upon waking. But, there’s reason for that. His body, weak, sore, as though he’s been lying there for months.

And if feels like he’s just come out of a nightmare.

“..! Okazaki-senpai!”

Hazily, Kei looks over to where the rather noisy voice comes from, recognizing who it belongs to as Yoshinari Hideaki, a fellow officer. By the looks of it, he’s been coming often. Has he been watching his heart beat, awaiting eagerly the day Kei will once again rise from the ashes. His faith, loyalty, despite the antics, is unwavering. The thing he just set down -- is that Kei’s badge?

“Yoshinari-kun, too loud~” He manages. If the younger didn’t know the true condition of his superior, then he’d be ready to bolt.

“A-Ah, yes...” Yoshinari does his best to lower his voice, but he can’t contain his relief that Kei is finally awake, “You... you were asleep for two months, Senpai. It’s February 26th. We didn’t think you would make it...”

But Kei, Kei is stubborn. He simply wouldn’t die that easily. Yet, somehow, he feels like he shouldn’t have been that lucky.

“Goodbye, Okazaki Kei. I sincerely hope your sorrow will be crystallized in this world.”

Where... did those words come from? No, he knows it. But he can’t believe it, or perhaps it’s because he hasn’t pieced it all back together quite yet.

Soon enough, he’ll be back home, in that big, empty apartment with the bare walls and the forgotten roomba base that he always forgets to dispose of, joking that he’s wanting for the little cleaning machine to return home. Perhaps he’ll go into his kitchen with the utensils that are barely used.

Wait, did someone use them? Is that why thinking of that stings?

“It’s past your birthday, so I went all out in getting you those really rare snacks for when you woke up. Never hurts to be stocked up..!”

“Yoshinari-kun, tsk, tsk, what did I just say about volume?”

“Forgive me for my absolute rudeness, sir!”

Really, he never learns . He’ll punish him another day. His mind is elsewhere, his heart elsewhere. It worries Yoshinari to see Kei like this, but he knows why. He understands. It had been serious back then, and even more so now. At least, he think he does, given the down that drapes him.

There’s plenty of things on his bedside table. Kei decides he’ll sift through them later. The others can be so sentimental. Though, among that pile of snacks, letters, and wrappings, there lays his phone, powered off. He feels the need, the need to hold it, to go back, to the days before he ended up in that coma.

It takes no time for the observant Yoshinari to see where Kei’s attention falls. With no reason to object, when he knows Kei will recall if he hasn’t already, given his scary good memory and overall power, Yoshinari powers on the phone and hands it over.

Once the phone is in his hand, it hits him that the small device freezing , foreign. His heart is racing. Him... anxious? It’s weird. He can barely get his fingers to cooperate, his grip so weak that he nearly drops his device. As soon as he hits LEAF, to check his past, to understand more about what he’s missing, what happened, he sees a name that causes everything else to go blank.

He can’t help but click on the message history, scrolling slowly. Each second that passes takes more and more away from him. The glass heart that was cleaned up, cracks.

[ FROM: ICHIKA-CHAN~ (♡ >ω< ♡) ]

Please, take care of yourself. It’s dangerous... and I’m worried.

[ FROM: OKAZAKI KEI ]

(´•ω•̥`)

[ FROM: YOSHINARI-KUN (*´ω｀)o ]

Okazaki-senpai’s like a phoenix And a wolf! That’s why, Hoshino-san, I think he absolutely won’t die!! Yesterday, I--

[ FROM: OKAZAKI KEI ]

Yoshinari-kun~ (｡+･`ω･´)

[ FROM: YOSHINARI-KUN (*´ω｀)o ]

(╥_╥) Sorry...

Worried ... The exchange between himself and Yoshinari seems typical, but the rest involved... He recalls his mission, everything, but why is that part, the piece weighing so heavily, fuzzy? He reads more, to a section from a few days later.

[ FROM: ICHIKA-CHAN~ (♡ >ω< ♡) ]

ヾ(＾∇＾) Thank you, Okazaki-san! Good night. Sleep well.

[ FROM: OKAZAKI KEI ]

Yes, yes ღゝ◡╹)ノ♡ It’ll be lonely without you... but good night Sweet dreams, Ichika-chan. Tomorrow, I’ll be by your side again~

Everything is falling into place. It hurts, it hurts, so much that it’s numbing . He doesn’t stop reading, because he wants to be sure. He doesn’t even realize that he’s crying by this point, the wet lines falling left first, then right. But everything... is wrong. It’s really wrong. The worst, the absolute worst. Is it her, whose image flashes before him, sending a shutter down the spine that rarely did so?

[ FROM: ICHIKA-CHAN~ (♡ >ω< ♡) ]

I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being reckless For going this far without saying anything. But I, I don’t want to lose you. If I say I hate you, would you finally be free? Would you promise me to live a life for yourself? Live for your own choices and not duty Not with the end in mind. Please promise me that, for my sake. I’m not running away from this, so I want you to trust me. I’m going to fight until the very end. We’ll protect each other. Okazaki-san, I want you to live.

“I..chi...ka...chan...”

Ah.

That’s it. The blur in memory, the reason for his heartache. The only person he had ever truly loved, gone. A pillar, the one he needed , gone. Was his subconscious blocking it to spare him? Ha, what length that lasted. As if he could ever truly forget her. A reset wouldn’t do anything for him, because the impact would linger. She’s stitched in the seams, forever.

“Hey, Yoshinari-kun...”

“Y-Yes, senpai?!”

“Is Ichika-chan alright?”

“A-Ah... That’s...” Kei can hear it in Yoshinari’s tone as he speaks. That typical, adorable , easy-to-tease pep dissipates, the seriousness sounds pained. Of course, the two of them know each other well. Even a couple months of being knocked off the job won’t change that. “S-She’s...”

He already knows the answer. He saw it with his own eyes. The reason why she isn’t here right now, the reason they won’t grow old together, until they’re a grandpa and grandma.

She wanted him to live.

“I... wanted to live with you.”

When you die, that’s it. Nothing... No sadness, no pain, but no joy either. No warmth...

“They... found this on her,” Yoshinari chooses an envelope that sat atop of the others on Kei’s bedside, handing it to him, “I took one look at the handwriting, and know it had to get to you, when you woke up..!” So he had fate that he would live... huh. Did he see that scene too, then? The aftermath of it... sorrow, destruction, she’s not here anymore, and everyone is sad.

His fault..? He, the one whose job it was to protect, failed. In turn, once again, he was protected. He’s Security Police . She wasn’t.

Kei carefully opens it, revealing a piece of paper, which he unfolds. A photo set slips out, but the words are what he focuses on first.

Okazaki Kei-san,

To the you who smiles, no matter how real it is. To the you who stuck by my side, who became part of my life. Thank you for this past month. Please, don’t let go of yourself. My last wish is for you to live on. Kazuki, Yoshinari-san, Yanagi-san, and everyone. You’re apart of their lives too.

So, to the you who has become so close. I give you my warmth. Writing this is embarrassing, but I have to say it somewhere. I’ve always wanted to tell you this.

Okazaki-san, I love you.

That’s why, you absolutely can’t give up.

For me.

- Hoshino Ichika

Her wishes, he needs to fulfill them, even if this pain weighs him, even if things will be different. There will never be another like her. So, even if he can pull off his usual step, will there be reason? Or will he be just as frozen, just as empty? Ahh, pathetic. Useless, meaningless, how can he do his job when he’s failed, so many times?

Finally, he makes his way to the pictures. These... He is unable to speak as he looks them over. One is blurry -- he remembers taking it with her and then sending it to her on LEAF, the other is a lot more clear, featuring people from Yanagi’s Detective Agency as well. Both have cute decorations placed around them. She’s... adorable...

There’s a few more words on the back, so he reads them.

I hope these will work until things settle down, and we can go into the purikura booth together properly. You said you wanted to, right?

Yes, he remembers mentioning that. With an ear-to-ear smile, he wrapped his arms around her back. Despite her I’m no good with technology, if I can get a little of how cute you are, I don’t mind if the ghost wants to bomb it a bit~. protests, she looked right at the camera, and when he showed it her, he said that it’d look better if they could play more. She commented on how out of focus the picture was, and he laughed, “Mmm, Yoshinari-kun really does say Ehhh? Ouuuch, that’s mean, Ichika-chan, hitting my arm like that. It’s okay. He’ll only try to scare you a little bit... like... ...Boo!”

It’s silent in the room, following this, until Kei speaks a single word:

“...Unfair...”

Life isn’t great. Nothing is right now. These emotions bubble and burst, a storm that simply will not give up. Fear, fury, he’s caught in limbo. Why isn’t this actually a bad dream? If he closes his eyes, will he wake back up? Or if this is real, and the frigid taps that dance up his back are not a lie, then maybe he can go back to sleep.

Is this what others meant when they said it would hurt to have someone gone? Would she have felt the same for him?

“Good night...” Yoshinari says carefully. He’ll be back tomorrow, if he can. There needs to be observing. There needs to be time. “I’ll come again tomorrow.”

Separated, grieving, he’s not alone in this, if Yoshinari’s any indication. There will be offered hands. They won’t be hers, but the ones of the others important to her. There’s a little brother to keep company, a subordinate to tease, and a whole agency to banter with. Things will be different.

How much more sleep will he be getting? Maybe he can get those pillows she had, the really soft ones, maybe --

Haa... his head hurts. Too much at once. He has to stop.

Forcing a smile, running his tears, he blankly lays upon his bed. Tomorrow is another day, and recovery for his body it shall still make. He looks upon the empty space, imagining if she were there. Her voice, the promises he shares. Could he get through the next day, if he lived for her? Could he think about many more morrows, if he fought for her? Is just the memory of her strong enough?

He’ll try. She wants him to try.

To get past this. To be as strong as she was. He’ll pinky swear the air if he has to. It’ll all take time, but, little by little, he’ll try trust her words. That life can be better. That there are small things in the memories to share. That this pain means he really did experience love, and there’s still more emotions like this in store for him.

Hoshino Ichika stills grants him gifts, even now, even if she isn’t by his side anymore.

Kei sees her, again in that white dress, her head resting on the pillow next to him. Her eyes are closed, breathing soft. He moves his arm, weakly, only to watch it fall flat against the bed, instead of around her.

Desperation. Exhaustion. Perhaps everything keeping his body fighting, anything could have caused this. It does not alter what is.

“Hey, Ichika-chan, it’s really lonely without you...” His grin doesn’t fade, but a broken gaze feeds the man’s image, proving his entire soul drained, “So you have to double promise to be in my dreams~”

And gradually his eyelids shut, slumber once again becoming his best friend, his fondness of sleeping, and his ability, too, becoming his crutch. As darkness falls, his body closes, embracing nothing but the chilly night air, his imagination, and desperation, stuck on the warm bell of her.

#collar x malice #okazaki kei #hoshino ichika #collar x malice spoilers #pan roasted words; my writing #hoo boy idk if i'm 1000% on this since kei's??? but HERE I GO

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hulksmashin-bannerpackin · 7 years ago

Text

Cursed

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: Reader thinks she is cursed when every man who has ever showed interest in her dies. Loki has actually been killing all potential suitors behind the scenes but his plan backfires when he finally tries to court her and she stays away.

Word Count: 1818

First time writing Loki! I really enjoyed writing for Loki! I’ve got a sequel in mind containing smut, if people express enough interest I’ll try to write it! Tell me what you think ^^

Enjoy!

Y/N grew up within the palace walls, her mother being one of Queen Frigga’s favoured lady in waiting giving Y/N all the opportunities she could ever need to have advantage in life. She spent most of her formative years with the young princes Thor and Loki, playing with them, learning with them, she became close friends with both however she was particularly close with Loki.

They both shared a love of illusions and sorcery and while she did learn in the ways of the blade she preferred to spend her time learning magic with Loki under the tutelage of the beautiful and strong Queen herself. While Thor found bonds with Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, Loki and Y/N grew ever closer.

Y/N thought she had the perfect life but then it all started…

When Y/N was a youngling at the learning hall and she began to discover the wonders of the opposite sex. She had a budding crush on a young boy named Braig. He was enthusiastic and joyous and he was kind to her. They started speaking more and more and soon they began spending time together. Y/N never forgot Braig, he was her first kiss after all. One day however Braig had been bitten by a venomous snake. He was found dead within the forrest, guarded by the lush greenery.

Of course Y/N was saddened and she had mourned but at the time she was able to forget for the most part and move on. It wasn’t until she was older, til she matured both in body and mind. She had become a lady. A beautiful lady. She began to gain the attention of her peers. It was then Y/N realised that she was cursed.

For every man that ever showed her interest seemed to be destined to perish over the next thousand or so years of her life. Varmir crushed by an avalanche of boulders, Trandere didn’t survive the trials of the warrior, Haggard lost his life in a brawl after consuming much too much mead and Aevar, Eskil, Galm, Ottar, Wybjorn and Frode had all lost their lives across different battles for Asgard in different realms.

Y/N had laid weeping in her chambers. Loki sat on the edge of her bed with a reserved expression as as he patted her back.

“I’m cursed Loki!” Y/N wailed into her pillow, when she was calm enough to speak.

“Don’t be ridiculous darling, you are not cursed.” Loki said calmly.

“What other possible explanation could there be?!” Y/N sobbed. This was it! This was the last time she would allow herself to fall in love! She had found someone she thought she would be able to safely feel for. A bakers son. A man who had no intentions of following the warriors path. Surely this time her curse wouldn’t effect this man? She was wrong. He had disappeared, seemingly without a trace. This proved that it was her, that somehow she was cursed to be alone without love.

“I think you’re being a little bit over emotional.” Loki ran his hand through her soft (coloured) tresses. “Besides none of those men deserved you.”

“That doesn’t mean they deserve to die Loki!” She sat up, wiping her eyes with the palm of her hand. “Loki, thank you for being there for me but I think I just want to be alone right now.”

“Very well, I hope you’ll join me in the library later tonight.” Loki smiled at her as he stood. Y/N nodded as she gave him a week smile in return. “I will, thank you for understanding.”

Loki’s footsteps echoed down the empty hallway as a dark smile splayed across his face. None of those vulgar whelps deserved the perfection that was Y/N. He couldn’t allow them to taint her or bring her down to a level below her. Loki had loved her the second he met her. He knew of course he didn’t deserve her yet either. Loki had many plans to become great. A great Sorcerer, a great man, a great King. He was determined to become worthy of her and until then he had to make sure he kept the competition scarce.

Loki didn’t mean for it to come so far, he swore it started out innocently! He just couldn’t stand the pit of jealousy welling inside of him whenever someone tried to approach her. The only arm that would suit being around her was his and that’s how it was going to stay.

As the years passed Loki’s hard work seemed to have paid off, Y/N had spurned the advances of all whom came across her. Y/N focused on her studies and by Loki’s side they became great warriors with powerful magic and an ever growing connection between them.

—————————————

Y/N noticed, one day how distressed Loki had seemed to be. She looked for him high and low that day deciding to finally search not in Loki’s favourite place which was the palaces library but in her own favourite hide away. Whenever Y/N was distraught she would go deep into the royal gardens maze, in the centre. There she found Loki brooding away, sitting on one of the benches.

“Loki?” Y/N softly called as she approached him cautiously. He didn’t look up at her or acknowledge her presence. “Loki?” She tried again, sounding more assertive. She sat beside him and placed a hand on his.

He violently pulled away from her as if he had touched fire and that was all Y/N could take anymore.

“For goodness sake Loki talk to me! I will not be ignored!” There was a serious tone in her voice that demanded to be listened too.

Loki looked at her and Y/N’s heart almost broke when she saw his expression. “Loki?” Her voice softened. “What’s the matter…?” She reached out and held his face in her hands, grip firm when she felt the slight tug oh him trying to escape her grasp.

Loki took a deep breath and held his hand over one of her own, leaning his face against it.

“I should of known that I was different, that l, that l didn’t belong. I should have been smart enough to realise. Oh Y/N… The God of lies turned out to truly be the biggest lie of them all…” Loki’s voice was broken, he knew that she was the only one he could show his true feelings too, and it was all the more precious coming from one who wore a mask of so many faces.

“Loki, whatever has happened will be okay. We can get through it together.” Y/N turned to console him but Loki only let out a dry laugh. He waved his hands and in a whirl Y/N’s eyes widened as the Casket Of Ancient Winters appeared before her floating in the air.

“Loki!” Y/N said harshly as she stood. “This is no prank! You cannot steal from Odin’s treasure vault!” Y/N was growing more worried by the second. What kind of trouble had her dear friend gotten into?

Loki simply looked at her, his hands hovered on each side of the Casket before he slowly gripped it. Y/N gasped and she backed away in fright as Loki’s skin and eyes began to change. “L-Loki? What is this?”

Loki looked at her with a sad sort of acceptance. Like he knew he would be shunned. “It turns out this relic wasn’t the only thing my ‘father’ had taken that day.” He spat, the word father was venomous.

A weight came down onto Y/N’s shoulders as different emotions raked through her. Surely somewhere, someone may find this attractive, but to an Asgardian, to someone who grew up to hate Frost Giants and find their race vile and offensive, to say the least it was hard for Y/N to look at. She knew however this was a key moment. What she did now would take a lasting effect forever.

“Oh my dear Loki.” She took careful steps forward and approached him. Her hands twitched by her sides as she raised them and placed them once more on Loki’s cheeks. She felt a chill run down her spine at how his touch was now icy but she ignored it.

“You are still Loki. The past or future cannot change who you are. I will stand with you always.” Y/N smiled at him, trying to convey that her sentiment was genuine. The Casket disappeared and Loki’s pale skin and beautiful eyes returned.

Loki looked into her eyes, searching desperately for the truth in her words. Finally Loki let go of his long held restraint, taking Y/N into his arms Loki crashes his lips against hers in a rapturous kiss. Shock overcame Y/N but that quickly faded as she returned the kiss dazzled and beguiled by the sudden action.

When Y/N realised what was happening she pulled away despite the butterflies in her stomach and the tingling on her lips. “Loki what are you…?” She was so shocked she couldn’t even finish her sentence.

“Y/N I’ve held feelings for you for a very long time, I just, I never felt like I was worth your affection.” Loki confessed, his hands still clenching her shoulders almost painfully tight.

“Loki… I-I can’t…” Tears welled in Y/N’s eyes as she stepped away from him.

“Because of what I am?” Loki asked, if she were to reject him, well at least he would of the memory of that kiss.

“No. No Loki no… Because of my curse. I couldn’t do that to you…”

Loki froze, his blood ran cold. Did that mean she would return his feelings? And not only that she would accept him for what he truly was?

“Y/N you do not have a curse.” Loki stated with conviction.

“I do Loki, I’m not going to risk you.”

Loki swallowed, he finally had the chance to be with her but she refused him because of his own doing. He couldn’t very well tell her he had sabotaged her all these years.

“Really Y/N I’m far more powerful then any silly curse could comprehend. I-“

“Loki no… l can’t.”

Loki’s face hardened. He felt like a dagger had been twisted into his heart. He had never felt more alone. He stepped back and disappeared leaving Y/N to sink to her knees and cry.

—————————————-

Y/N sat on the edge of the shattered rainbow bridge staring into the empty abyss. She felt broken and her stomach churned painfully. She wanted to cry but after all this time Y/N felt like her tears had all gone. Loki was… dead… She felt like throwing herself off the bridge as well just so see could be with him but she knew that Loki wouldn’t want that.

This was all her fault and no amount of consoling could tell her otherwise. Loki had feelings for her and he was punished for that with her curse…

The End

Taglist: @insanityismysanity12345 @greenangrysnowflake @kitchensink-to-me @zadyalyss @becaamm @theweirdlunatic @itsjackothy @bluebird-burning-gold @surfin-the-sun @ncville @My-crazy-hectic-life @daft-not-punk @fangirlbitch02 @gabriels-trix @ivy-16-18 @theblackqueen-ofmyheart

#loki #loki x reader #loki lafeyson #loki of asgard #marvel #avengers #loki imagine #thor #frigga #loki laufeyson x reader

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thewhiterabbit42 · 7 years ago

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Just the Beginning

Pairings: Dark Gadreel x Reader

Tags/Warnings: Dark Gadreel, NSFW for the usual dark themes

Word Count: 2011 (i’m out of control people)

Written for: @room-with-a-cat Character: Dark Gadreel Prompt: “Give yourself over to absolute pleasure. Swim the warm waters of sins of the flesh - erotic nightmares beyond any measure, and sensual daydreams to treasure forever.” - Rocky Horror Picture Show Sensory: Touch

***Please do not repost or copy my work to any other site without my permission. Giving credit does NOT count.***

You knew this moment would come.

You couldn’t avoid being alone forever. Cas was dead. The Winchester’s had a nephilim to worry about. Most of all, however, they were just tired of dealing with you and what they thought was unreasonable paranoia.

You knew what you’d heard, however, and it wasn’t the Gadreel you all thought you knew.

Even though Cas had been too busy protecting Kelly, he had at least believed you. Your only ally, however, was gone and that made you feel more vulnerable than being alone ever could.

You’d taken the necessary precautions (and insisted your friends did as well). Hex bags. Sigils, on everything and anything to help keep you off the radar. Thankfully, they didn’t do much to Jack except give him a deep sense of unease, like he wasn’t wanted. Sam had been less than appreciative of that side-effect, making him less sympathetic to you as time went on.

It didn’t surprise you, however, that Gad would find a way around it.

“You’re a smart woman, but not smart enough,” his voice cut through the silence, sending chills down your back. “I’ll always be a step ahead… but you already knew this.”

You did. Which was why you’d taken other precautions. You turned, shifting your position on the bed so you could casually reach beneath the pillow. Only nothing but cold sheets and emptiness greeted your fingers.

Gadreel arched a brow, bringing an angel blade out from behind his back. “Looking for this?”

God dammit.

“I know about the others as well. Do us both a favor and don’t go for them. You have such lovely hands. I’d really hate to break them.” He tossed the blade into the air, making it disappear.

You weren’t sure who you were more mad at, yourself or the Winchesters for thinking this was all in your mind.

“I might have helped with that,” he said, giving you a devious smile. “Like I said: I’ll always be one step ahead of you, my sweet.”

You tried not to let the nickname throw you off, recognizing it was just another attempt to manipulate or mock you. Of course he’d always be a step ahead, though. He’d always have the advantage being an angel with an infinite life span. You were just a walking sack of meat with a limited existence.

He sat down next to you, his gaze insistently catching yours, much like he always did when he wanted you to know how serious he was being. Instead of clasping his hands in his lap, however, one of them reached up, his finger boldly curling beneath your chin.

“You are far more than that, y/n, or else you would already be dead.”

The old Gad would have simply meant you had survived as a hunter this long thanks to your intelligence, strength, and abilities. There was nothing simple about this one, however, and the danger prickling along your senses suggested he wanted you alive because he had a use for you.

“What do you want, Gadreel?” You demanded, fighting the urge to slap his hand away. Instead you stood up, moving several feet away before crossing your arms over your chest. The devious curl to his lips gave way to mirth and you wondered if it was your directness or your actions that amused him more.

“It’s your thoughts I often find most entertaining,” he answered, his smile widening when you paled. You’d assumed him being a lying bastard meant all the unspoken rules you’d had were never really adhered to. It was one thing to believe it, however, and another to hear it out loud.

“How does it feel to know I’ve heard every little thought that’s ever crossed your mind in my presence?”

Your anger flared but so did your unease as he rose up from the bed and took a step toward you.

“You hide it well, but I have always known...”

When he showed no sign of halting his steps you began to back away from him, though It wasn’t his nearness that had you retreating so much as the look in his eyes. His stare was predatory, but it was the hunger in the darks of his eyes that was truly unsettling.

You barely heard what he was saying over the frantic thudding of your pulse in your ears.

“You may have the others fooled, but I can see each and every one of those dark little embers embedded in your being...”

Your back hit the wall and you froze, knowing there was nowhere else you could go. You were afraid if you tried to run his slow stalk would turn into a leap, and the last thing you wanted was for his baser instincts to be unleashed.

“And I see how brightly they could burn, if you would just let them.”

He stopped directly in front of you, his finger resuming its place beneath your chin. The air around you grew thick, his presence suddenly dominating as he towered over you. You had never felt anything so commanding before, so primal, and you pressed your back against tightly the sheet rock, trying to give yourself as much space as possible.

“Your temper…” He continued, his finger trailing just beneath the curve of your jaw. A shiver raced down your spine as his touch lazily drifted along the side of your neck.

“Your fury…”

You swallowed as he dragged his nails across the center of your throat, his fingers splaying out to cover more territory as they slid down across your collarbone.

“Your desire to corrupt.”

Your eyes snapped up to his, his words finally registering. You understood his tactics. You understood the game. Dealing with him was like playing an infinite game of chess, move for move strategically matched, but his goal remained elusive.

Mostly because you had allowed him to gain the upper hand over the one weapon you would always have at your disposal: your mind. Now you were drowning, overloaded by your mounting fear and sensation he was providing, making it hard to think clearly through the haze of stimulation.

“Your need.”

His fingers began to trace nondescript patterns along your chest and you regretted wearing anything less than a full body suit covered in Enochian, let alone the thin-strapped tank top you’d chosen for bed.

He chuckled and it was a dark, unsettling sound.

“You think that could keep me out?” He inquired, an uncharacteristic confidence lacing his tone.

The fact he’d even want in was more disturbing than his claims he’d overcome it.

“What do you want?” You repeated, proud at how even you were able to keep your voice.

“I thought the answer to that would be obvious,” he purred and he leaned forward slowly, painfully so, drawing out the moment until he finally came nose to nose with you. “I want you to give yourself to me.”

“What?” You breathed, uncertain you’d heard him correctly.

The way he ran his tongue along his lower lip, his eyes raking down the front of you, however, left no doubt to his intentions. His fingers continued dancing across your skin, and you suddenly picked up on the yearning thrumming beneath them.

Now that you knew what you were playing for, the game became more terrifying than you could have ever imagined.

“Give yourself over to absolute pleasure. Swim the warm waters of sins of the flesh - erotic nightmares beyond any measure, and sensual daydreams to treasure forever…” The promise beneath his words was unmistakable and you felt your legs tremble in response.

A flush raised along your neck, creeping across your cheeks and memories flooded your mind at the reference. Gadreel had shown up one night when you were watching The Rocky Horror Picture Show. He had tormented you the entire time, asking you innocent questions that raised not so innocent thoughts within your mind. This scene in particular had your thoughts wildly straying and you’d felt almost dirty at the time, fantasizing about corrupting such goodness, especially when it was so rare these days.

Now you just felt furious since he’d probably been laughing at you the whole time.

His hand changed course when he hit the neckline of your tanktop, his fingertip skimming along its edge. Just as he was about to tease over the top of your breasts, you grabbed his hand, yanking it away.

“Go fuck yourself,” you hissed, wishing you had the capability to do something other than hurt yourself, because you wanted nothing more than to punch him in that perfect face and for him to really feel it.

In an instant, turned the tables on you, pulling free from your grasp and pinning both your wrists on the wall above your head. Instead of being irritated, however, he looked pleased.

“That’s my girl,” he praised. “Give in to your anger. To your most basic of urges. Aggression. Desire. Survival.”

Your blood ran cold upon the last word. Was he implying what you thought he was?

“If you kill me, they’ll know,” you told him. It wasn’t quite a lie, but neither was it the truth. The Winchesters might put two and two together, but Cas certainly would have.

A sharp twinge of grief lanced through your chest; you had never missed your friend more than you did in that moment.

“Castiel is gone,” he growled, his fingers tightening around you to the point of pain. “There’s no use thinking of him any longer.”

You gasped as blue disappeared beneath a vast, empty sea of his black, his beautiful eyes replaced with something sinister, something you never thought possible for an angel.

“W-what are you?” Your voice sounded so tiny and for the first time you realized just how in over your head you were.

“Your worst nightmare,” he warned. You swallowed, desperately trying to dislodge your heart from your throat. The fire you were playing with was completely wild, beyond your ability to control, and the endless depths that stared back at you suggested there was nothing in the universe that would ever truly quench it.

“But I could also be your greatest dream.” He blinked and the blackness disappeared, his grip over your wrists relaxing once more. The intensity surrounding him eased again as he leaned forward, his mouth hovering just next to your ear.

“The choice is completely yours.”

The roar of the impala pulling into the parking lot had never sounded so sweet. You sagged back against the wall, relief flooding your system. Gadreel wouldn’t risk being caught here, not right now, and certainly not like this.

“Don’t make me wait long for an answer, my sweet, or I may just decide for you.”

He nipped at your earlobe just as he disappeared, making you jump. Your arms dropped back to your side and it was all you could do to keep from collapsing to the floor as the door to the room swung open.

Sam and Dean walked in, bickering back and forth about something that had happened in the handful of hours they’d been gone. They dropped a set of plastic bags on the table and a six pack, oblivious to your presence as they continued to argue. Jack, on the other hand, hung back in the doorway, his eyes uneasily scanning the room.

“Are you coming in or what?” Dean demanded, his eyes sharply landing on the nephilim.

“It smells like fear in here,” Jack told them, his eyes suddenly landing on you. The brothers both glanced in your direction and you did your best to hide just how disturbed you felt.

“I had a bad dream,” you lied, hastily heading towards the door. “I just need some air.”

You were about to step outside when Jack touched you briefly on the arm.

“It’s over now,” he reassured. Normally his thoughtfulness would have made you smile. Tonight, all you could do was nod and walk away. You could still feel this nightmare on your skin, featherlight and teasing, and you knew that tonight was only just the beginning.

ALL the tags:

@girl-next-door-writes @sumara62 @fand0maniac @feelmyroarrrr @omgreganlove @jannalionheart @baritonechick, @deaths-maiden @lucifer-in-leather @stone-met @the-moose-of-baskerville @summer-binging-spn @blondecoffeecake @raspberrypuddle @ourloveisforthelovely @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll @tistai @christinalibertymikaelson @room-with-a-cat @authoressskr @revwinchester @flufy07 @greieba

#rabbit celebrates 666 #Gadreel x reader #Dark Gadreel #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic

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loveiscosmicsin · 7 years ago

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Dreaming of the Dawn

Post-canon Noctis (or should I say Post-Episode Ignis canon as of December 13th 2017? Well, it was written long before the DLC came out) and Ignis visit the old apartment building. A spontaneous decision led by another, they would always be at each other's side no matter the outcome.

Inspired by this tweet thread by titansatemysoul / @nokuigu : https://twitter.com/nokuigu/status/930533797438816257 Written with her permission. I love the headcanon and how well now it fits better than ever. Posted on my Ao3.

“In all the world, there is no heart for me like yours. In all the world, there is no love for you like mine.” - Maya Angelou

“What do you see?” “I...” Noctis struggled to articulate the view. “It’s different. And in much better shape than I thought it’d be.” Before the attack on the Crown City, there used to be a grand wisteria tree that grew in the centre of the courtyard. The very same tree where Ignis parked his car under one day in spring and found it overwhelmed by the fallen flowers. While Ignis lamented over retracting the roof, Noctis made no comment and compelled by some adventitious force, reached out to pluck the lavender blue blossom from the chamberlain’s chestnut locks and innocently, “You look so good in purple, Ig.” What remained of the tree now was a dead charred stump with its years before it was cut prematurely engraved in it, but beside it, two saplings had sprouted from the icy, withered ground. “Does it look safe to go inside?” Ignis asked, readjusting the plum scarf around his neck and removing the frosted visor over his scarred face. “Yeah,” Noctis forced the lump in his throat down. “Just... a lot to take in at once.”

“Then we have little to fear.” Ignis pressed a gloved finger to his lips, pensive before cocking his head assertively. “May I remind you that it was your idea to come to this place? We mustn’t drift from the goal now.” Whether Ignis was aware or felt exhausted hearing it time and time again, Noctis knew he was right. It was his idea and stopping halfway would be unsatisfactory to the both of them. With one hand holding the bag containing their lunch and the other finding catharsis from the emanating warmth of Ignis’ hand, Noctis led him inside the building. Despite its haunted and somber exterior, he can’t help but to feel relief to finally approach this piece of his past. Electricity was one of the vital resources that withstood the passages of time and underground conduits extended to all parts of the city. The apartment complex was no exception. The elevators responded when summoned and lifted the two men to the top floor. Noctis had lived in Insomnia Tower when he was fifteen and had vacated the premises five years later for Altissia. For a time, he lived a normal life and his duties as crown prince were lenient, but at the cost of being kept out of the loop of his father’s failing health. Death had followed the young prince since the beginning. Succession to the throne meant his father’s death and the frailty of his own mortality and it drove him to distance from anything and anyone that reminded him of it. “Well?” Ignis turned his head after Noctis got them inside the apartment, waiting for the grand tour he had been promised. “Don’t keep me in suspense.” “I’ll, uh, let me get the lights.” Noctis hit the switch by the entrance and light flooded the hall leading to the living room and kitchen. “Abandoned,” he paused, holding his breath to stop himself from sneezing. “And pretty dusty. Watch out.” “Duly noted.” Noctis swore he heard an eye roll with that. Ignis removed his gloves and carefully tucked them away in his pocket before feeling his way against the walls, tracing cracks and peeling wallpaper. “It’s rather drafty here, wouldn’t you say? I fear we’ll catch our death of cold.” The king agreed, it was musty and freezing inside, but he didn’t have the heart to let a gentleman suffer. “I can think of a couple ways to keep warm.” “Not so fast, Majesty. See if we can heat this room up a bit.” The power still worked, but it was too much to hope that the heating system would as well. They would just have to endure. Curiosity was the best cure to keeping minds off the cold. Ignis was more eager about coming here than he showed, examining the condition of the interior and making comments every now and then. Save for the cupboards, counters, and appliances bolted down, the apartment was stripped bare. Not a single piece of furniture remained. Not even the bed frames in the main bedroom and guest room. Noctis walked around the living room, the floorboards reverberated and eerily welcomed its visitors. He mostly remembered where everything was and the accidents that occurred. Every spot, though the physical markers long gone, carried fragments of his closest relationships. By the veranda, Cogsworth, a resilient house plant he received from Iris, was either swollen from excessive watering or went through days without a drop of water. Taking advantage of their strongest to weakest subjects, Prompto and Noctis had intense study sessions on the couch, comparing answers in preparation for exams with lots of junk food involved. Not taking no for an answer, Gladiolus had always came over with a deck of cards and despite the bitter taste of defeat more rounds than victory, somehow, became life lessons about decision making. Noctis had kept the red leather notebook that he used to write to Luna in a bookshelf, sending trading cards and limited edition stickers her way, knowing she loved collecting them. And Ignis, no matter what kind of day Noctis was having after school or work, the chamberlain had one of the vinyl records in the collection playing and a home-cooked meal waiting, starting a tradition that he would wait until they were able to eat together.

Deciding to head to the veranda, Noctis noticed that the velvet curtains swayed as if possessed, and pulled them wide open. Many times a young prince stood outside and stared out to the metropolis that he was to inherit, a myriad of thoughts plagued him. Insomnia at night had life, a cacophonous and yet, harmonious energy to that was easy to lose himself in. He was part of the city as it was of him. He wasn’t the prince, he was just Noctis and it was okay to forget for a while. “Found what’s making the place cold.” There was a massive crack in the window and it allowed gentle gusts of air to come through. “I wonder who lived here after we left. If there was a somebody,” he pondered aloud. If someone did, maybe they saw Insomnia differently than he did. “Best not to ponder over less than savory thoughts.” Ignis said, close by, assessing the kitchen and finding that the facet ran dry.

“Yeah, you’re right. Having fun yet?” “I was just recalling our game nights. How far a man would go to get the last slice of pizza.”

“Those were the days.” The king agreed, remembering the best and cheapest pizza on the block. Through the best and worst days, Noctis treasured those memories. Ignis didn’t live with him, he stayed over often, and it was perfect even if it was only overnight and having to leave before Noctis woke up. Knowing that it wouldn’t last, the young prince pretended that they would live here forever without the burden of the royal family name looming over them. A futile and foolish fantasy. A few weeks after he survived the blood prophecy, Noctis knew not what to do next. He had no plan. No goal. Death was the last and only plan, he entrusted Lucis to his retinue and allies. Since then, rebuilding was the only thing he managed to stay focused on. He bore no weight on his own future. Ignis believed in him. Blind loyalty, he claimed, but Noctis knew better: Ignis never once lost the light in his eyes. “Shall we take a break? I’m feeling a bit peckish.” Noctis wasn’t done looking around and while they could always return, he hadn’t been fully truthful to Ignis that he informed the others that they were here. There was something here to be uncovered and he thought if he didn’t have the answer, Ignis might provide input. “You sure? There’s nowhere to sit.” “We’ll settle for the floor then.” The king and the strategist sat on the floor across each from other where the dining table used to be, and dined on what contents Noctis brought in the bag. “What kind of sandwich—” “PB and J,” Noctis answered cheerfully with his mouth full. “Of course.” Ignis chuckled as he bit into his sandwich. “Compliments to the chef as always.” “I know my way ‘round a jar or two,” the king replied, licking the peanut butter off his digits. They ate their food in comfortable silence and tidied up before resuming to the investigation of the apartment together. “We’ve achieved much in the past several months,” Ignis remarked, joining Noctis at the veranda. “The progress of repairs in the Citadel have exceedingly gone beyond expectations.” “It’s because everyone’s been so willing to help,” Noctis explained, giving credit where credit was due. “Men, women, even the kids pitched in. Everyone’s giving their all.” “They’ve been inspired by their king and his trusty pickaxe, toiling away to clear the rubble with his own two hands. It sounds like a folktale, given your new honorific as the Dawn-Bringer.” The strategist crossed his arms. “Let’s turn our attention to this place next.” “Huh? Didn’t know we’re playing real estate now. You sure love taking your roleplaying seriously.” “Come now, it’s more of a personal interest. I thought we ought to restore what memories we can.” “We can always make new ones, right?” “Is that not what we’re doing now?” “Yeah, but...” Noctis’ mind painted of what used to be there. Yes, it was where he lived, precarious circumstances aside, but it wasn’t home. Home was in the people, not the place. In a way, his heart moved out when Prompto, Gladiolus, and Ignis helped him pack that day. If he were asked to provide a definition of home, Ignis’ smiling at him was the thought that came to mind. Since the first moment Ignis breathed his name in absolution, Noctis had thought of the future even when the universe fought so viciously to deny him of it. Ignis had never left Noctis’ side. When Noctis returned from his time in the Crystal, he had thought Ignis would treat him as a stranger and after all that time, the strategist would have a change of heart. It was a cruel reality that he was ready to accept, ten years was more than enough time for a person to change. He was glad he was wrong. Nothing changed. “Noct?” “Back when you, we, had our doubts about how this would turn out, I promised you that every morning when you wake up, you’ll never regret being with me, right?” “Of course. I never regretted you or us, cherishing the time we have together.” “And we agreed to one day going to Caem and locking ourselves in a cottage for a week. Finally get that peace and quiet we talked about.” “Mhm. After Insomnia’s rebuilt. Not before,” Ignis reminded him of that condition for good measure. “You were quite persistent that I wear that swimsuit when we both know how inappropriate it is for harvesting mussels.” “Hey, hunting for seafood is your idea, not mine.” The king realized that the conversation was starting to go off-track and revealed the first five words without hesitation, “Ignis, will you marry me?” Ignis’ eye widened and his body stiffened for a moment. He made a sound as if the puzzle pieces in his ever-calculating mind have finally clicked in place. “Are you...” Noctis took Ignis’ left hand and his lips caressed the knuckles, unable to look at his face while his own warmed. “I... don’t have a ring. Yet. But I can ask this again when I do.” A soft, rueful laugh escaped him as his forehead touched Ignis’ chest. He didn’t have a speech prepared, but that didn’t mean the desire to spend his life with the man he loved wasn’t without certainty. “Not once we talked about this, but in my head, I see us tying the knot already and it always felt so right. So... You don’t have to give me an answer now. Just think about it.” Draping an arm around him, Ignis rested his chin on the king’s crown, his voice unexpectedly low that it raised goosebumps. “That won’t be necessary.” His chest rose and fell once with ecstatic conviction. “Nothing would make me happier.” Noctis’ heart thundered in his chest at the vagueness of that answer. “Do you—”

“I do.” “Wait, you didn’t let me finish,” the king frowned, untangling himself from the strategist’s embrace. “Is that a yes or a no?” Ignis tilted his head, a teasing smirk on his lips. “I didn’t wish to waste a single second to give you my answer. Twice. And yet, you certainly love to keep me waiting.” His fingers twined in Noctis’. “You may not realize this, but the thought about marriage has crossed my mind. I swore to love you until the last star in the galaxy is extinguished, have I not?” He said, bringing Noctis’ palm to his lips, adding, “I aim to keep my vow.”

The king pouted, tracing the thin scar on the lower lip. “You could’ve said something.”

“Patience is a virtue. I can account that the quality of is quite rewarding. Your spontaneous proposal caught me by surprise.”

“If anyone asks, it’s because of your ‘patience’ that we’re not married right now.” “Perhaps,” Ignis admitted and he reached out with his free hand to stroke Noctis’ cheek. “However, I will tell you this once more and for as many times as need be: I do.”

Noctis grinned, standing on his toes as he circled his arms around Ignis. He could never get sick of hearing those words. There were many ways to express their love and those two words were enough for now.

“I do, too,” he murmured before he kissed him.

With every atom of his existence and all the light that shined on their world.

#ignoct #Ignis Scientia #Noctis Lucis Caelum #ffxv #ff15 #ff #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #final fantasy #headcanon inspired fic #nokuigu #titansatemysoul #older IgNoct #drabble #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #marriage proposal

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pannazsinihkvetak · 7 years ago

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Day 5 – Gods, Goddesses, and Mythology

Paring: EngBela , England/Belarus

I did a little thing exploring Belarusian folkloric beings, aka the leshy with some mention of English supernatural creatures and figures

Belarus harshly put a cup of tea in front of him and then gave herself one before wordlessly sitting down at the table and then seeming to space off and stare at England’s hair, or perhaps something behind him, he wasn’t quite sure. “I thought you lot were supposed to be hospitable,” he said dryly, yet also politely. It was best to be on his toes with her, she was intriguing but he could never quite figure out what she might do. What a puzzle the girl was.

“I am being hospitable, I didn’t fucking kick you out and I gave you tea.” What was left unsaid was that tea was slightly pricey so it was only reserved for those she had no real issue with or liked. “Right, quite so,” England agreed, clearing his throat awkwardly and taking a sip. It wasn’t bad, no it wasn’t as good as his tea but it wasn’t bad at least. He kept his thoughts to himself however, again one must be on one’s toes. She simply resumed staring again as she drank her own tea. It was silent for a moment and then she spoke once more, startling England slightly. “Listen carefully, I have heard that you can see folkloric creatures. Is this true?”

England stopped drinking and looked at her. “Well…yes, but where did you even hear this? I suppose some tossers were taking the piss out of me,” he said once more in a dry tone. He didn’t really care, it was expected after all. The world seemed to live to mock Arthur Kirkland, as the isle of England was known as. He was used to it, it was his fate in life. Belarus didn’t seem to care about his fate though since she reached across the table, took his cheeks in her hand and squished them together. “I have my ways and it’s as important as a bag of dicks. What is important is the fact that you can see the truly important. So I don’t regret giving you tea I’ll have to take you to meet the leshy. If you can see him and not piss him off then you were worthy of my tea at least.”

England was dumbfounded. “What the bloody hell does that have to do with tea? I heard the creature mentioned at your library in my place…but I can’t quite recall what it is.” “Tea is expensive these days!” she declared as if that explained everything. To her it did, she wasn’t rich and so scrimping was the way of life. She finally let go of his head and stood up, “Come along, we’ll go now.” England rubbed his cheeks and tried to smooth down his ruffled hair, with little success, and followed along as they exited Belarus’s house. She suddenly took his hand, which made him yelp since it was quite cold, and almost quite suddenly they were at the edge of a forest.

The woods were old and ancient, perhaps some of the oldest in Europe, and it made a small secret part of England’s wizened heart joyful. It reminded him of youth and things deep within his soul. “There are woods near Minsk but today he’s here near the border. I’m not so fucking stupid as to tell the leshy what the hell to do. He does as he pleases and that’s fine by me,” she said. She figured England would understand the foolishness of bossing the other creature around so she said no more. As the entered the lush green woods silently England felt many eyes watching him, but sensed no malice. Perhaps it was because he was with Belarus, or perhaps it was because their intentions were good, he couldn’t be quite sure.

She was still holding his hand and England thought it would be rather foolish to let go, so he didn’t even try. Instead he broke the silence and said, “So just what is the leshy exactly and what is he to you?” Belarus glanced at him and said, “He’s a spirit of my forests, he goes where he wills but can show up in any forest he pleases. The old ones are the ones he likes best, after all he holds many memories as do I. To me, the leshy is my grandfather. I have a batka and I have a grandfather. That’s him.” England couldn’t tell if she was sad or pensive or even wistful. Her face and even the tone of her voice was a cipher. Then she said, “When I was a small child I used to run off at times into the woods. For no reason really, the humans never treated me poorly…as individuals,” she added darkly. “However I felt at home along my trees and leaves and animals, perhaps there was something of them that called to me. During those times the leshy would look after me and teach me many things about the world and magic.” There was a pause as she stopped, looking around and then going further into the woods. “I still talk to him of course, because I’m not an ungrateful brat and he’s still my grandfather. He likes to see new and interesting things sometimes, so I show him. Today it’s you, since you can see him surely you’ll be some some interest. Don’t be a dull bastard around him or disrespectful, he won’t like it.”

England listened to Belarus’s words, she truly was an intriguing creature who never failed to surprise him. This was a being, he felt, that was at one with the forest and truly loved and cared for it. He figured that was why the leshy chose and loved her from when she was very small. It probably also helped that the leshy was in a way a part of her, a being part of her culture. England himself, despite living in London and surrounding himself with city and people, smoke and smog, innovation and industry also still understood his forests and his creatures and had a good deal of respect for them. They were things to be loved, treasured, and feared all at once and never to be taken for granted. As he thought of all of this England almost felt young again, as if it was the medieval times and Belarus herself was one of the fae; beautiful, treacherous, and incomprehensible all at once.

As if sensing this she looked back and asked, “And what the hell are you thinking of?” England was silent for a moment and said, “Ah, just…about your tale. It’s not something one hears of often, that’s the thing. Most people are blithering idiots about supernatural beings and don’t take the time to value them. They laugh at shite they don’t truly understand, and not only is it regretful but quite annoying as well. It just irritates me a tad, that’s all.” She nodded and said, “It pisses me off too. Basically only fucking idiots don’t understand or respect. It seems you’re not a fucking idiot, so you’re in luck.” England didn’t know how to feel about this. “..Thank you I suppose, I’m cursed to be surrounded by them instead. Not you,” he added quickly, “But I mean France and America.” He heard her grumble as well and even her hand clenched tightly around his own. He was a little worried she was going to do some damage so he quickly said, “But enough about those gits, what you said brought another thing to mind.” It worked and her hand lessened it’s grip. “And that is?” England cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his head with his free hand. He had no idea how deep they were in now, but it was alright, the woods still felt safe. “Right. It just reminded me of my own childhood long ago.”

At that Belarus couldn’t help but feel slightly curious so she said, “Tell me.” He felt mildly pleased she even asked, most people didn’t seem to want to care. Not that it mattered to England, it was better that way. Some things were best kept secret. “Sometimes it almost seems like a dream. Other times it feels quite vivid. I used to go off into the woods often when I was able to and when I wasn’t able to I always longed to.” That and the sea, but the sea wasn’t the topic of discussion and he doubted she cared much about that. He would be surprised though if he learned more, since she had her lakes and bogs, which were very dear to her heart. “When I was there I used to visit the fae and played with Robin Goodfellow and even spoke to the ghosts and unicorns that resided in the forest. Perhaps they gave me leeway that humans didn’t or can’t have. They still do really.”

However then, whatever spell came over England faded and he felt a little ashamed of himself and his frankness. “You probably think it’s all tosh though, it all sounds rather fanciful doesn’t it? If it helps they’re sometimes quite awful, but most things in the world are. It’s not really as sentimental as it seems.“ She shook her head, “No, but you’re right. They’re dangerous beings if one isn’t care and it’s true. Most things in the world are crap, if precious nonetheless since they can’t last forever. One must value all things.” England thought about her words but didn’t give much time since Belarus then said, “ If shit goes well with the leshy show me a unicorn and let me meet Robin Goodfellow. Maybe a ghost or two as well, but I get enough of them here. This land is coated with death and memory.”

England made up his mind to do so, he felt she would appreciate them at least. He also sensed the truth in her words for he sensed the heavy pretense of loss, pain, and sorrow. The weight of memories rested on these borderlands between east and west like a shroud. It wasn’t surprising however given the recent past and for the first time, he wondered how she dealt with it. It was never something that crossed his mind before. Then they stopped and his thoughts were cut off by a sharp and sudden, “Shut up. He’s here.” The forest fell silent and not even the birds chirped now. Then there was an odd whistling sound, almost like the wind though the trees, but not quite. The leshy was singing. The odd ancient tune grew louder and louder until suddenly there was no mistaking it, it was right in front of them.

The leshy was a odd ancient old being. He was as tall as the trees, dressed in bark and animal skins. His skin was rough and his beard long and thick with vegetation and growth. His skin was white with a greenish tint. He had long horns and pine cones and needles made up his hair. He continued singing his song, which was soothing and terrifying all at once and then once he stopped he looked around, sensing both of them there. Belarus was delighted and it showed by a rather beautiful smile on his face. “Grandfather, here!” He looked around for a second, looking for her and once he spotted her on the ground he leaned over, picked her up, and placed her on his shoulder. As he did so he grew a little smaller and now in fact was small enough for Belarus to set comfortably on his shoulder with her legs dangling over it. She almost looked like a little girl, and the entire scene would of been charming to England if he hadn’t been so shocked at everything.

For the moment he stood there, stock still in amazement. He didn’t want to run though, running would be stupid and as many vices as he might have, being an idiot wasn’t one of them. At least not most of the time. He knew he was in Belarus’s and the leshy’s domain now and at both of their mercies. “That’s him, he can see beings like you from his own homeland and from others’ as well,” Belarus said, pointing to England. She was sure the leshy would be pleased with him. It was another thing she wouldn’t admit aloud but after talking with him more and more in the recent past she found that England was interesting in his own way, in addition to sensible and polite. She found him entertaining to talk to at least as well and he didn’t give her a headache, no small feat in her eyes. So many people in the world were dull or aggravating, it was a pity.

The leshy turned his eyes to England, looked at him and spoke to Belarus in rasping Belarusian. England again stood there still, but ventured an awkward little wave at the being. He was wishing he had some treat for the creature but then realized he had no idea what he liked and cursed his lack of foresight. This didn’t seem to bother the leshy though as he slowly reached over and picked up England, much to the nation’s quiet panic, putting him on his other shoulder and starting to walk off with them both. It was useless to struggle so he didn’t, he merely let out a quiet defeated sigh. Well, it could of been worse, but still he wasn’t that fond of feeling like a hobbit on an ent.

“…Yes, hallo. It’s quite nice to meet you too. I..I presume you’re the leshy…Belarus has told me so much about you,” he said in a halting and awkward voice. “…And I’m England…also known as Arthur Kirkland…though that’s not so important as of now. You’re quite a…majestic creature aren’t you?” His complement was followed by two laughs, one that sounded like the wind swaying though the trees and another that was harsh yet girlish at the same time. Belarus was pleased, England was being so nice to her leshy, but she could tell from the moment he entered the forest that he would. He understood the heart of the trees and the woods, he was one with them and so perhaps he was in a way, one of the fae’s children too as she was one of the leshy’s children. She peered over at him, “He likes you. Tell him your stories of the woods and all that other shit, he wants to know and listen.”

England blinked as they continued to go though the woods, it was clear he was going to be here a while, he figured he’d best make the most of it. He knew too he could be in worse company, so it wasn’t so bad now that he thought more on it. Then Belarus spoke again, “But he says next time you come around, bring him honey or fruit from your place. I’ll make sure to remind you too.” While Belarus again didn’t say it, that was an invitation to return, something not made lightly.

#aphrarepairweek2017 #engbela #hetalia #aph belarus #aph england

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megers67 · 8 years ago

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The ULTIMATE Queen Prompt Pack

This may differ from normal prompt packs so I’ll explain how this will work. I’ll give the first entry above the Keep Reading line as an example. I’ll put the rest under so I can update as needed and so the post isn’t too long on the dash. They’re also in no particular order.

Entries will include a link to the official Queen music video (if not, then a youtube video with the music), a link to the lyrics on Genius (because the notes give cool insight that might help), and 3-5 lines to use as a quick prompt if you’d like (and will not simply be the title out of redundancy). The lyrics I choose will be based on what would give variety to those who choose to not follow the links rather than anything else. Take note that some songs are harder than others to find isolated lines that can function as a prompt on their own. I’m just doing my best!

Inspiration can be taken from the lyrics, the music, mood of the song, story of the song, music video, Freddy’s costumes, notes from Genius or pretty much anything. Let the inspiration come to you.

If you want, followers can send in specific songs (or lyrics) for you to use as starters for an RP or any other kind of prompt. Or you can just choose a song you want. Up to you.

1. Bohemian Rhapsody

Music

Lyrics

I’m just a poor boy, I need no sympathy.

Gotta leave you all behind and face the truth.

So you think you can love me and leave me to die?

2. Somebody to Love

Music

Lyrics

Each morning I get up I die a little.

I have spent all my years in believing you.

But everybody wants to put me down. They say I’m going crazy.

3. Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

Music

Lyrics

I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things.

I learned my passion in the good old fashioned school of lover boys.

Just take me back to yours that will be fine.

4. Tie Your Mother Down

Music

Lyrics

There’s no way I’m going to lose out this time.

I don’t need him nosing around.

In fact, I don’t think I ever heard a single little civil word from those guys.

5. Play the Game

Music

Lyrics

It’s so easy, all you have to do is fall in love.

Light another cigarette and let yourself go.

My game of love has just begun.

6. Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Music

Lyrics

It cries (like a baby) in a cradle all night.

It shakes all over like a jellyfish.

[She] gives me a hot and cold fever.

7. Save Me

Music

Lyrics

The years belie, we lived a lie.

I am naked and I am far from home.

Was it all wasted? All that love?

8. Under Pressure

Music

Lyrics

These are the days it never rains but it pours.

Why can’t we give love?

Because love’s such an old-fashioned word.

This is our last dance.

9. Headlong

Music

Lyrics

And you’re rushing headlong out of control.

Let me out of this cheap B movie.

It ain’t no time to figure wrong from right.

10. The Show Must Go On

Music

Lyrics

Another hero, another mindless crime.

Does anybody want to take it anymore?

Whatever happens, I’ll leave it all to chance.

I’ll soon be turning round the corner now.

I’ll face it with a grin. I’m never giving in.

11. Fat Bottomed Girls

Music

Lyrics

Are you gonna let it all hang out?

I was just a skinny lad.

I seen every blue-eyed floozy on the way.

12. Bicycle Race

Music

Lyrics

I want to ride my bicycle.

Hey man, Jaws was never my scene and I don’t like Star Wars.

I don’t wanna be the President of America.

13. Don’t Stop Me Now

Music

Lyrics

Tonight I’m gonna have myself a real good time.

That’s why they call me Mr. Fahrenheit.

I’m a sex machine ready to reload.

14. One Vision (Extended Version)

Music

Lyrics

I’m gonna tell you there’s no black and no white.

Look what they’ve done to my dreams.

Just gimme gimme gimme gimme fried chicken.

15. Friends Will Be Friends

Music

Lyrics

It’s not easy, love, but you’ve got friends you can trust.

The other half ran away.

You’re getting used to life without him in your way.

16. Who Wants to Live Forever

Music

Lyrics

There’s no time for us. There’s no place for us.

There’s no chance for us.

Touch my world with your fingertips.

17. Princes of the Universe

Music

Lyrics

I am immortal, I have inside me blood of kings.

I have no rival, no man can be my equal.

I’m here for your love and I’ll make my stand.

My power is in my own hand.

I know that people talk about me, I hear it every day.

18. Love of My Life

Music

Lyrics

You’ve stolen my heart, you now desert me.

Bring it back. Don’t take it away from me.

When I grow older, I will be there at your side to remind you how I still love you.

19. Too Much Love Will Kill You

Music

Lyrics

I’ve been facing this alone for much too long.

I feel like no one ever told the truth to me.

You’re headed for disaster.

You’re the victim of your crime.

It’ll make your life a lie.

20. I Want it All

Music

Lyrics

Got to find me a future. Move outta my way.

Just give me what I know is mine.

Here’s to the future for the dreams of youth.

21. Breakthru

Music

Lyrics

You’re starting something deep inside me.

If I could only reach you….

I break up with each and every one of your looks at me.

22. We Will Rock You

Music

Lyrics

You got mud on your face, you big disgrace!

You’re […] shouting in the street, gonnna take on the world someday.

Somebody better put you back into your place!

23. We Are the Champions

Music

Lyrics

I’ve done my sentence, but committed no crime.

I’ve had my share of sand kicked in my face, but I’ve come through.

I consider it a challenge before the whole human race.

24. Spread Your Wings

Music

Lyrics

Boy you’d better begin to get those crazy notions right out of your head.

That’s because you’re a free man.

You’ve got no real ambition, you won’t get very far.

25. I’m in Love with My Car

Music

Lyrics

All I hear is your gear.

So she made tracks saying this is the end now.

Cars don’t talk back.

26. You’re My Best Friend

Music

Lyrics

You’re my sunshine and I want you to know that my feelings are true.

I’m happy at home.

Whenever this world is cruel to me, I’ve got you to help me forgive.

27. The Prophet’s Song

Music

Lyrics

Beware the storm that gathers here.

Quicken to the new life, take my hand.

Late too late all the wretches run.

Who heed me not let all your treasure make you.

28. Killer Queen

Music

Lyrics

At anytime an invitation you can’t decline.

Guaranteed to blow your mind.

She’s all out to get you.

29. Now I’m Here

Music

Lyrics

And the people all stared, didn’t understand.

Whatever came of you and me

I love to leave my memory with you.

30. Stone Cold Crazy

Music

Lyrics

I’m smelling like a dry fish bone.

Got to get away from this stone cold floor.

Here come the deputy, he’s going to come and get to me.

31. Keep Yourself Alive

Music

Lyrics

It’ll take all your time and money.

Well I’ve loved a million women in a belladonic haze.

And I’ll grow a little bigger. Maybe that can be my goal.

32. White Queen (As it Began)

Music

Lyrics

Stars of lovingness in her hair.

My goddess hear my darkest fear.

So sad it ends as it began.

33. March of the Black Queen [TRIGGER WARNING: N WORD MENTION]

Music

Lyrics

Like going up to heaven then coming back alive.

Everything you do bears a will and a why and a wherefore.

I reign with my left hand, I rule with my right.

My life is in your hands, I’ll fo and I’ll fie.

To hell with all of you hand-in-hand.

34. Seven Seas of Rhye

Music

Lyrics

I descend upon your earth from the skies.

I stand before you naked to the eyes.

By flash and thunder-fire I’ll survive.

Then I’ll defy the laws of nature and come out alive.

35. Radio Gaga

Music

Lyrics

So don’t become some background noise.

You’ve had your time, you had the power.

So stick around, cause we might miss you.

36. It’s a Hard Life

Music

Lyrics

You win - you lose. It’s a chance you have to take with love.

They say it’s just a state of mind, but it can happen to anyone.

I’ll look back on myself and say I did it for love.

37. I Want to Break Free

Music

Lyrics

You’re so self satisfied, I don’t need you.

And this time I know it’s for real.

But I have to be sure when I walk out that door.

38. Hammer to Fall

Music

Lyrics

Lady Mercy won’t be home tonight.

Don’t hear the bell but you answer the call.

Convinced out voices can’t be heard, we just want to scream it louder and louder.

39. ‘39

Music

Lyrics

Don’t you hear my call though you’re many years away?

Write your letters in the sand for the day I take your hand.

Your mother’s eyes from your eyes cry to me.

All your letters in the sand cannot heal me like your hand.

40. Death on Two Legs (Dedicated To…) [TRIGGER WARNING: SUICIDE MENTION]

Music

Lyrics

You never had a heart of your own.

Have you found a new toy to replace me?

Put your money where your mouth is Mr. Know-All.

Was the fin on your back part of the deal? (Shark!)

You’re a sewer rat decaying in a cesspool of pride.

41. Flick of the Wrist

Music

Lyrics

Intoxicate your brain with what I’m saying.

If not you’ll lie in knee-deep trouble.

Seduce you with his money-make machine.

42. A Kind of Magic

Music

Lyrics

No mortal man can win this day.

The waiting seems an eternity.

I’m hearing secret harmonies.

43. I Was Born to Love You

Music

Lyrics

I was born to love you with every single beat of my heart.

If I was given every opportunity, I’d kill for your love.

I’m caught in a dream and my dream’s come true.

44. Las Palabras de Amor (The Words of Love)

Music

Lyrics

Let me hear the words of love.

And all for fear, and all for greed.

But while we live, we’ll meet again.

45. Innuendo

Music

Lyrics

Don’t take offence at my innuendo.

Just turn yourself into anything you think that you could ever be.

Yes we’ll keep on trying. Tread that fine line.

46. Heaven for Everyone

Music

Lyrics

You come to me and everything seems alright.

This world could be free, this world could be one.

Just your smile could smooth my ride.

47. Flash

Music

Lyrics

He’ll save every one of us.

King of the Impossible

Just a man with a man’s courage

48. I’m Going Slightly Mad

Music

Lyrics

Are they trying to tell you something?

It finally happened.

To be honest you haven’t got a clue.

49. These are the Days of Our Lives

Music

Lyrics

When we were kids, when we were young, things seemed so perfect.

You can’t turn back the clock. You can’t turn back the tide. Ain’t that a shame

No use in sitting and thinking on what you did.

50. The Miracle

Music

Lyrics

The wonders of this world go on.

The one thing that we’re all waiting for is peace on Earth - an end to war.

The time will come one day you’ll see when we can all be friends.

#starter prompt #prompt #prompt pack #starter pack #ask meme #queen

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kimwexlers-brownhair · 8 years ago

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Yellow Rose, Chapter 59

A/N: Holy crap, next chapter's the epilogue, then I'm done! I can't believe it! Love to you all.

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10695372/59/Yellow-Rose

Erik walked solemnly down the beach for what was left of the night. He moved with the slow gravity of a lone mourner leading a funeral procession of one. From a distance, all that could be observed of him was a dark, lean silhouette against the black sky and sea; that, and the porcelain sheen off his mask. As the night darkened, his figure became so obscure it was as if the mask were disembodied, floating in the sky above the waves like an errant crescent moon.

He heard Christine singing, her voice floating in from the waves and wind. Her voice lingered in his mind, in his heart. As it always would.

Yet louder, clearer, were images of Meg: humming to herself while sewing, tapping her foot impatiently backstage, yawning like a kitten in the morning.

"Meg is in love with you."

He shuddered.

Some twisted part of his heart recoiled: who could love him? What horrible flaw must such a person possess to see anything worth loving in him?

He'd yearned for love, killed for it, yet now that there was a slight but still very real chance it was within his grasp –

He winced away as if from a flame.

He tried to calm himself. Reasoned with himself.

Christine might have misled him, hoping to channel his adoration elsewhere. Or she'd guessed wrongly.

Yet the steady look in her eyes was confident, sure…once there was all doubt and wonder there, but no more. Now she knows what she says is true.

Meg.

All at once the dark figure walking the beach hunched over, his hand on his chest. He felt bile rise in his throat – not bile of disgust, but of something too enormous to take in, too fragile in its immensity, too unbelievable –

He panted.

Meg.

The breeze picked up. It battered against him, and he felt the cold lick of the tide lash at his foot.

What did he want?

Did he want her love?

He desired Meg, obsessively. This he now faced squarely. There was no use denying it, when he had – here he winced again – kissed her five years past. He'd hoped the feelings would fade over the years, particularly amidst the busy chaos of their new uprooted lives.

They had not, but slowly they had changed: the leap of passion was sweetened by a companionable fondness, an all-encompassing warmth reserved for those who know us truly.

Meg knew him truly. And Christine thought she loved him, all the same.

He….

He wanted her to love him.

To be loved by her…to love Meg….

Another great shudder and he turned his face sharply away, as if the sun and not the moon blazed down into his eyes.

There was still, coiled wickedly around his heart, the snake of who he once was. The mad ghost, the Phantom, who like a spoiled child wanted his original fantasy to still satisfy him: Christine Daae as his eternal underground siren. All these years later, it still stung that his muse had turned away from his labyrinth into the sunlight outside, into the life of a happy viscountess.

He's secretly taken pride in his steadfast devotion in the face of Christine's rejection. He wanted to maintain a purity that separated himself from the rest of humanity, so that it would not just be his face that did so. If he could not become a dashing Don Juan who enthralled his lady, he would instead become a sorrowing Werther, or a grief-mad Heathcliff: forever faithful to his love, even as that love turned him away.

How could the Phantom settle for anything less than a grand ending, whether happy or sad? He was no mere man. He could not live a normal life, so he must live a sweeping fantasy instead: his operas brought to life.

But Meg Giry skipped in and trampled all over those high-flung dreams with her delicate toe shoes.

Meg Giry, with the hated sunlight in her hair. Meg Giry, with the hard, inescapable truth in her dazzling, straightforward eyes. Meg Giry, with the high, thin voice of a sparrow, prattling away quickly about this, that, and everything under that hated, hated sun.

Meg Giry and her kindness. Hers was a devotion truer indeed than Erik's, because it sprang from a genuine font of love for those around her, not a desire to isolate herself in her goodness.

Meg Giry who looked at him as no one ever had. Unblinking, unafraid.

Could she truly love him?

The more time that passed from his interview with Christine, the more ridiculous the notion became. Bitterness was quickly displacing hope.

After all, what did Meg Giry know about love?

Love was unending, it conquered. Could Meg be conquered? By him?

No.

No, Meg could not be conquered.

Because behind the prattling, the dancing, the insatiable curiosity, the deep well of compassion, was a heart of steel. This steel shot out of her pale emerald eyes with inescapable brightness. A murderous opera ghost, arrest, espionage, exile – none of it tarnished that steel in her. She'd grown from these experiences, learned from them, but that brilliant steel would always keep her upright. Keep her true.

He knew now that regardless of his presence, Meg would have starred in the own play of her life. She did not need him for that. She had herself to guide her.

Her life was hers, and hers alone.

Could there be any place for him in the story of her life?

He remembered the envelope hidden in his desk in his room.

With an even stormier frame of mind than when he first started his long journey down the beach, he finally headed toward home.

He did not sleep. He sat staring at the envelope, where printed was a name he hadn't seen or truly thought of in years.

His fingers absently traced this name.

His head buzzed, his eyes stung, his heart burned.

He felt resigned, but to what, he did not know.

Eventually he felt the sun sneak in through the curtain. He was still officially a butler of sorts to the Giry women, at least as far the public was concerned – which viewed him more as a jack-of-all-trades secretary than anything else. And so he lived in a room smaller than the ladies, as befit a servant. When Meg and her mother protested, he waved them off indifferently. He who once slept in a coffin was not prone to care much about his sleeping place.

At last he heard the city outside start to rustle to life. Streetcar bells rang out, and he heard the clink of the milk man's bottles.

It was still early when he heard a knock on the front door. Erik frowned. He stood, but stopped as he heard the quick patter of feet outside. Meg.

He put his ear to the door and heard a muffled male voice say "Important letter from Comptesse de Chagny". A murmured thanks from Meg, then the door shut again.

A few moments passed. Then she squealed.

All at once a rapid knock on his own door. He answered and Meg flew in.

She was still in her mint green dressing gown, and her hair was half up in rags. "Erik…Erik!" Tears rimmed her eyes, but she wore an ecstatic smile. She held up a slip of paper. "Read it!" She was as beautiful as the sunrise.

Without a word, without anything in his face, Erik took it and read the hasty missive.

"I was going to wait until after the show to tell you, but I can't keep it in! Raoul just received word from his superiors: you all are allowed back in Paris! You see, Meg, Raoul learned from his chief that it was you who told the commissioner to give Raoul a chance in Sweden - and he learned that was because you were working for the police. Well, Raoul knew the least he could do is try to bring you home. He and a few of his detectives looked into the case, and found a loophole: since that man Hermes Verron has fled with all evidence against him and his associates, there's nothing left to accuse you with. All Raoul needed was permission from your fellow officers in the secret police, and they gave it! We're waiting for official word now, but you're coming home, Meg!

Yours so very happily,

Christine"

Meg shook Erik by the arms, laughing. "Can you believe it? Raoul is such a good man. I knew I made a right move telling Darius about him soon after we joined the force! Well, aren't you going to say anything? We're going home! We're going home!"

She peered hard at him. His half face – he was wearing the old mask again! – was empty of all emotion. "What's wrong? I…I know Paris doesn't hold all the good memories for you that it does for me, but it was your home all those years, just as it was mine! Aren't you the least bit excited?"

The way he treasured the pressure her warm, small hand gave his revealed to him, once and for all, the depths of his feeling for her.

He took a great, long sigh, and Meg followed it with every beat of her heart. "Erik?"

He laughed gently, gazing dreamily at the note. "It is a fine thing, Meg. I wish you much happiness. But when I return, it shall not be with you."

She froze. "…What?"

He presented her with a letter of his own. It was addressed to Baron Eric de Castelot-Barbezac. "I'll save you the trouble and tell you what's inside." He sat on his bed and stared ahead of him, his wrinkled suit that he hadn't changed out of incongruous to his serene, elegant posture.

"Stephen Marcus tracked down my origins, apparently. I grew up in Reims. My father was a wealthy baron, who died hurrying home during a thunder storm after a hunting trip. He was hurrying home because my mother was in labor with me. When she saw my face, then heard of my father's fate, she declared I was the devil's child, not hers. This attitude was shared in a more ferocious, violent vein by my older brother, Tristan. He…he was the reason I left at age eight. I never saw him or my mother again; I never thought to hear of them again, either. But then…."

He gestured to the letter in Meg's hand.

Meg read. In a quiet voice she said, "Tristan is dead, Marcus says. Drank himself to death. You're…you're the heir to your family title, now. And the estate."

Erik laughed again. "If you read further, you'll see that apparently my late mother spread the rumor I'd been abroad all this time, sequestered in a monastery to pay for my sins. However, as there's no proof anywhere that this is so, the property is still mine, per the will Father made when he was sure he'd have another strapping son." He raised his eyebrows. "At first, I thought I'd ignore all this, just as I ignored my family in life. After all, I didn't think I could ever go back to France." He looked at her pointedly.

Meg licked her lips. Her world was spinning a bit. "But now…now you can go back."

"Now I can." He stood slowly and turned his back to her, staring through his gauzy curtains to the early sun outside. "I can have a domain all my own again. Isolated. Protected. I can retire in peace."

Meg let the letter fall to the floor. "Retire?" Her nose wrinkled at the idea. Why…why would anyone want to retire? When there was still so much to experience, to achieve? Erik had a reputation in the theater now, he could take that to Paris and…and….

But what else was it hammering away in her chest, until the tears filling her eyes now were quite different from the happy ones she'd entered with?

"You can't retire, Erik! You can't isolate yourself again! You just can't!"

He whipped around, and there was a violent panther staring out of his eyes. "Can't I? Tell me, what else do you see me doing with the rest of my days, eh?"

"You can do anything! You can compose, teach" –

"Why? Why not simply retire and compose in private?" He shrugged with brutal callousness. "What difference does it make?"

She said nothing, just stared at him as if she'd been struck by lightning.

Life without Erik...

This was unfathomable to her now. She had her own life, her own goals and dreams, but...there would be an emptiness there, without him.

An emptiness that caused her pain just contemplating.

His eyes narrowed and he was somehow almost nose to nose with her. "Meg? Does it make a difference?" His voice was low, penetrating.

Meg tried speaking twice before actual sound came out. "It…it makes a difference, Erik."

"How?" His voice was sharp.

She closed her eyes and bowed her head. "It makes a difference to me."

The tears rolled freely down her cheeks.

A gentle hand lifted her chin. She braved opening her eyes.

The violence was gone, and in its place deep, overwhelming warmth. "Meg…."

His dear half face, the dear mismatched eyes, and that voice! – Soothing and rich and unlike any other mortal's on earth….

"I love you, Erik," she said.

The steel shone proudly out of her tear-filled eyes.

She hadn't intended on saying that. It rushed out in a burbling brook of panic. However, a great weight seemed to lift from her heart. She was glad she'd said it. She had known this was so, all this time, without knowing.

She loved him. She loved him, she loved him. And now he knew.

"There." She wiped away her tears with a childish gesture that tore at his heart. "That's why it makes a difference."

He was still, like a statue touched by fire. His eyes never left hers, and she couldn't read the storm there.

All at once she was pulled into his arms and his mouth was on hers again, after all these years. She yielded gladly. The warmth of his lips against hers, his arms squeezing her to him as though she were his only raft on a lonely sea, turned her tears glad again. She playfully pushed away his mask, so she could kiss him unobstructed. She ran her fingers into his scant hair. She loved that scant hair, and she loved the crevices she felt, then the smoothness of the unblemished side of his face.

At last they broke apart for air.

A solemnity as old as time itself poured out of his revering eyes. "And I love you, my little Meg."

She closed her eyes and smiled, and in a sleepy gesture rest her head against his chest. "You love me. You love me." She repeated this like a healing spell.

She, little Meg, was loved. By him.

His hand stroke her back as if she were a precious child entrusted in his care. "Can such a thing be true, my Meg? That we both love each other so much? I…I thought such a thing was available to me only in my dreams."

"Well, that's always been your problem, if you ask me," answered her sweet piquant voice. "You've always lived too much in your dreams, and missed what was right there in front of you."

He chuckled and kissed her wild hair. "I've never missed seeing you, Meg. It's impossible to miss a lone firefly at night."

He hugged her fiercely to his chest, and they stood there that way for the rest of the morning, rocking silently as the sun rose in the sky.

#Yellow Rose #poto #erik/meg #merik #meg giry #giryleague

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