#i cant stop think about their cold and warmth symbolism

[goldengrecha]

Today I'm thinking about manga versions of Maxie and Archie, because it's something... I even dont have words for it. Like. Holy fucking shit.

In the beginning, of course, they're confront each other - that's the classic, they're rivals after all, standing for different things and all that things. They're different. They're opposites. They're still strongly exist in each other lives, because of their conflict.

But then

This happens. And this IS beginning of the end, because of course they're working together - and at the moment it looks like it is only for benefits for their goals, nothing else. They will destroy each other when they will get to finish.

They're fucking irritating(/pos), it almost feels like they're drawn to each other, in any scenario, their destiny is to meet, to exist in each other lives. None of them exist alone (and when one of them do exist alone, it means that something went terribly wrong).

AND THEN THINGS JUST GO EVEN WORSE (/pos)

This panel. I don't know where to start.

Do I need start with that they're realizing they work together perfectly? Do I start with that this making them thinking they needed to work together from the beginning? Do I start with that two men, who, up until this point, was fighting with each other and conflicting, hating each other, founded in each other the best partner they ever could have? Do I start with that they're probably the best persons in each other lives?

It is already very emotional (at least for me), but with how story goes on, they're connecting more and more, becoming even more emotionally fucked up.

AND THEN THERE IS EMERALD ARC???? CAN WE PLEASE TALK ABOUT EMERALD ARC???????

There is so much going on in emerald arc I barely can find words for describing my emotions.

This is the fucking tragedy. Because, what do you mean, they're put in situation where is only one of them can leave alive for some more time? (Remember how I said that if only ONE if them exist it means that some shit is going to happen something going to go really terrible. It either them both exist or them both don't).

What do you mean Archie is literally killed Maxie, just for chance of living a little longer?

And this is tragedy, because Archie, in the end, loses again. And now, not only he does lose in literal sense - he didn't achieve his goal, after all. He loses everything he had - his team, his life, and most importantly, he loses his only friend. He is all alone now.

Ah yeah can we talk about

This?

It's just one phrase. It has so much in it.

Not only he calls Maxie friend, not only he confess that Maxie probably the only one person which Archie was thinking as a friend, but also like.

Consider this: this isn't oras archie yet. This version of archie is cold, closed and gloomy, genuinely intimidating person. He doesn't care about his team members, it is kind of okay for him to use them as tools (which, ironically, shows even in this interaction with Maxie: after all, Archie still killed him for a chance of living a bit longer. And Archie acknowledging that he betrayed Maxie. He betrayed his only one friend). He is a cold person, but it almost seems like Maxie managed to warm him up a bit, just a little bit. This is actually incredible and, again, endlessly emotional, and I still can't stress this enough. Holy fucking shit.

Just imagine Archie at this point. Imagine, because, the best person in his life always was his rival. His rival, and maybe, even friend.

And I told about this before, but can we talk about that in distorted world they became one? It's just so symbolic. Like, Archie and Maxie from beginning were opposites, they was supporting opposite things, their goals was completely opposite. But they can't choose only one of this, because everything around them is a combination of different, sometimes opposite things. Like even the land and water in Hoenn! Exactly this combination of land and water create Hoenn as we know it, and how they know it. And they, people, who choosed only one of these things, in the end, became the one themselves - isn't this ironic? Isn't this funny? Isn't it symbolic in some way? (I also fucking love how this fusion explain in some way why when oras hits, Maxie is more like original Archie, and Archie more like original Maxie. They had explored each other minds I'm sure of it)

And finally, ORAS, part that I love the most.

Not only they both was given chance of living again, but this is literally their peak. They're working together again - and by that I mean they're working perfectly together.

They even acknowledge it themselves:

And this is so good in contrast with Ruby and Sapphire arc - back then, they too, realized and started to think they're work perfectly together, but it still was mixed with some evil fucked up shit, but here? They're working together because they (ironically), have the same goal. And they're helping each other.

They're working together perfectly, this is so good for them. And no evil bullshit this time! It's actually best versions of them in some way - because they're working together, for sake both of humanity and pokemon. They working towards happiness and safety for everyone, not choosing and prioritizing only one of them.

And they're talking to each other as if they was old friends, partners, every one of their interactions shines with this somewhat warm feeling. This is so good for them. I would even dare to say that ORAS part was the happiest moments in their lives.

And.. Then end of ORAS hits.

And, again, as classic already, it's a small panel, but how much here is.

First of all, can I point that Archie died two times, and both times he was thinking of Maxie in some way?

And both times is some kind of emotional moment for Archie: first time, he calls Maxie friend (he doesn't call him by name, but. He obviously talking about him COME ON), and second time he ask Maxie, if he would want to work together again, if they will have chance to do so. I just love seeing this progression, how Maxie became more and more dear person for Archie as time goes on, how he became more attached to him. And Maxie does too!

It is such an incredible moment filled with so much emotions, with so much sense. I love how Archie doesn't even say his question fully, but Maxie still understands him. Of course he does, because, I'm sure, even if Archie didn't ask this, Maxie still would think of it. I'm sure if none of them said this, they still would understand this wish to work together again that they both have. At this point, they are incredibly connected together, and they have only each other.

I also love this moment, because when Archie died first time, he was told that, if he will continue like this, he will end up all alone. And Archie agrees to that: he answer in the way that he is already accepted that he is alone now, and he doesn't even have Maxie by his side (I still can't get over that he really highlighted him in this speech holy fucking shit). BUT then, when he appears next time, he appears as ORAS self, and his ORAS self is very different from what he was, not only as a person, but his motivation is different, too.

He changed in some way. And he ISN'T alone, because now, Maxie is by his side again. And I can't stop thinking about how happy it probably made Archie.

And even dying, he is calm, because he isn't alone. He have Maxie by his side. His only friend.

[gorjee-art]

hello! i adore your work and honestly cant stop looking at it. your colors in particular are astonishing! how exactly do you figure out what colors work together in a piece?

Firstly!

...

aw~

Secondly, I know many of you are expecting some complicated, rich, and refined explanation of how exactly I choose the colors for my pieces and my answer to you is. I have no clue. Most of my art is kindergarten/arts and crafts level of put-togetherness, I basically experiment a lot.

I've semi-answered this question before in this post right here x and I still somewhat think it still follows my inner rulebook. I choose my colors based on the mood of the situation or the personality of the character.

For example: Katherine's punk demeanor is portrayed as "hot and cold" flashes of pink and blues including a reference to the "3D glasses" to symbolize her ability to see things that no one else can.

Or Charlie's and Claire's relationship is portrayed through their colors as Charlie's atmosphere is dull, cold, and greyed colors that portray his listlessness and exhaustion towards life. Claire's is vibrant reds and warm browns with just the tiniest hint of sparkle and contrast in her emerald eyes showing the sheer amount of life and festivity that's in her very being alone. Showing the cools meeting warmth in this symbiosis of their personalities being so different and yet highlight each other.

Sometimes it's just the love of chaotic colors clashing and fighting with each other trying to be the center of attention to represent a sort of energy, a spice, a flavorful feast for the eyes. As threeface (my sona) simultaneously represents my adoration of art as well as my personal feelings of "lacking a solid identity".

It's all about what feels right to me and what speaks to the mood or the character the rest is just feeling the ground blindly until I feel gold.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

An Angel and A Demon ~ Pyramid Head x Reader

Update 2: My laptop restarted when I was in the middle of writing this, and trust me when I say it, I am positively pissed off, and I want to end my days, that's how bad of a day this was.

And I didn't leave the house.

That says a lot about today...

Update 1: But, without further ado, I was half-way writing this story, and I received this ask, and let me tell you...

helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??

I live for it.

Bless you for sending me this, it's the reason I'm still sane right now.

I love you, baby-cakes.

Update 3: I want to kill myself so bad. Just smash my head on a wall until it explodes or sth. I was so happy with how this imagine turned out, only fuck fucking tumblr to just fucking delete EVERYTHING just as I was about to put the last gif and hit POST NOW.

--------

For the 5th time writing this :

FUCKMEDADDY - but this time - FUCKMYBRAINSOUTPLEASEIWANNADIE

Thanks.

-------

Hell - What was that place, anyway?

Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it's eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?

But never would have anyone thought that 'Hell' could look so...Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still...Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.

All this darkness, this hatred, this...Everything...It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren't sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.

But even in this abyss where you couldn't even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone's straying souls with her benevolence.

In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish's head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness...It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.

On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn't much, but if he had to, he'd rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul's beauty, the last parts of her humanity.

The other Killers were confused at the Trapper's actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold' she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.

The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren't surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn't able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!' she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor's camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.

These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!' she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.

Even Ghostface wasn't exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You're a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!'

And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother's lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone's skins.

Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.

He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.

Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn't help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard...

Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.

Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.

"H-Hey, u-uhm...Need some help?" she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. "Okay, uhm...I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I'll go fetch it and I'll come back for you. Don't move." she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. "...I'm sorry, ignore me, I'm an idiot." she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.

However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. "Okay, I'm here, I found the vaseline! Let's try to get you out of here." Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can't balance myself with both hands occupied, and I'd rather not fall." she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost...Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.

"Ouchie..." she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. "O-Oh...! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you're bleeding too! Hold up, let me help." she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. "It may sting a bit, and I'm really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon." her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then..."This is grandma's marigold ointment. It's really good, and it smells nice." she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. "Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you'll feel better very soon!" her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.

It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so...Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.

It didn't matter how many hardships she's been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh' to its mamma sheep.

He couldn't allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.

He didn't understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.

"Th-This sword is so heavy...H-How can you carry this around like that...?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore...Y-You really need a massage, I'm sure." she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. "Hehe...You're really strong. I'm embarrassed now." she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.

Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn't hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn't feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.

"O-Oh...! Thank you so much! You're really kind! I really appreciate this...I-I know it probably doesn't matter much to you, since you'll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors...But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!" her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn't talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth' and execute the injust, miracles still existed.

As soon as she reached the survivor's camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. "Oh, but he wasn't that bad. In fact, he's much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!" okay, she's lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she's always been a bit...Out of it, so who cares?

It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers' camp. "How the hell did you manage to survive?!" they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. "Oh, you see...I found the hatch." she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.

As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time...He seemed kinda...Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer's camp, calling out the lonely one's name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them...

"Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there...I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial...Here, this is a marshmallow. I don't think you've had many before...Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in...So I hope this will make your day a bit better!" Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.

What the hell was he turning into?

A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand...He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.

She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn't wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.

"Ah...! You liked it, didn't you? Well...Next time, I promise I'll give you more!" she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn't talk, silence took over them - It wasn't an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. "W-Well...I'll guess I'll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!" she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.

When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.

Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn't out of fear or anything negative...It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.

It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.

An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.

As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it...She appreciated him.

"Thank you." she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.

She was hooked.

Hope you liked my completely shameless pun, I couldn't stop it, especially after the pain I went through trying to write this...3 freaking times.

Yay.

[weaver-of-legends]

Loki’s boot-steps rang softly on the smooth, shining red-yellow marble tiles as he and his guards passed into the dimly lit, cool hall before the council chamber, leaving the humid warmth and coming rain behind. It smarted, walking down these halls as a prisoner with no say in if he wanted to turn to the right or verge to the left—it stung, his absolute inability to decide how fast or slow he wished to proceed.

It happened all at once, too quickly, too soon—he had been deep in his thoughts and then suddenly they were upon the doors before the Council Room. He felt fidgety, a war horse sensing the coming battle but unable to flee without knowing if turning away would be safer than risking what lay ahead. He wanted to turn and run, to beg for more time, but there was no more time, there could be no more delay. Ragnarök would come, and they must have him dealt with beforehand. He knew it like he knew each breath he took.

The large, brass-colored double doors boomed as they opened inward to admit him. The torchlight and sunlight bounced off of the engravings inlaid into the metal—one of Bor’s great battles with the monsters of Niffelheim.

Loki swallowed, his mouth felt dry.

“Proceed,” the Einherjar holding his chains prompted in a low voice.

Loki’s eyes widened, the unshed tears burning at the edges of his eyes again. His lips parted, letting out a whisper of a breath. He tilted his head forward, chin down, eyes straight ahead, and strode into the room as grandly as any parade horse, sending the chains swaying and slapping dully against the leather panels on his war jacket once again.

He came up in front of the dais where Odin sat in all his glory, one hand closed lightly around Gungnir and the other lying in his lap, the useless arm hidden neatly in his crimson mantle, his gnarled, broken hand concealed in a doeskin glove.

Ægir and Tyr flowed from behind him silently, only their steps sounding and their mantles rustling gently, to take their seats on the Council. Eight lords and one king—the Council of Nine.

The Einherjar holding his chains jerked him to a halt just before he came to a full stop, making him stumble back, and Loki grit his teeth, seething at the disrespect. He looked up at Odin, searching for some sign in the old god’s face as to what his punishment might be—for some sign that Odin would hear him, and listen, and believe him; and not deny his words as the desperate ravings of a murderous liar. But Odin’s scarred and weathered face revealed nothing, and his single good eye held only the cunning wisdom of an ancient monarch long-seated and much-revered.

Despite it, Loki hoped vainly that he would be allowed to say his piece. Hiding his mounting terror, he smiled, friendly and nonchalant—as if he had been brought in for committing a trick on a servant and not guided in with chains strung off of him like so many May-day streamers.

“You decide to see me at last—” he spread his hands as if encompassing the whole room, still smiling, “I was beginning to suppose you would leave me in the dungeons and forget me.” Loki canted his head to the left. “But here, thank the Norns, I am.” He dropped his hands back at his side.

Odin shifted his hand on Gungnir as he rose slow from his seat, moving the spear so its end struck the floor. It rang—ominous, and quietly into every corner of the large chamber.

Loki watched him steadily. He ignored the shifting of the lords; Ægir's bad habit of fiddling with the rings on his right hand when he felt ashamed.

“Do you feel so little for the anguish you have caused?” Odin’s voice moved through the air softly, yet it could be heard as clear as a pan-pipe’s high call. The gravity of it made Loki stiffen, and his heart began to beat erratically in his chest.

Loki feigned curious ignorance, peering exaggeratedly about the room. He lifted his hands again. “I see no pain inflicted by my hands—but then, I have been gone for a very long time, so perhaps I have forgotten of some old trick or spell I set in place; I will right it, if I can, only tell me so I might mend the damage.”

“You cannot redeem what the dead have taken, Loki! Or do you truly feel so little for the death of Baldr? Is your heart that cold toward the pain of your people, the tears of your mother, the grief of your siblings, that you dare make such a show of ignorance? After you fled from Asgard the night the despicable deed was done, and hid from all responsibility!” Odin’s voice rose in sharp command, in cutting judgment. Loki’s breath shortened, he heard a far-off ringing in his ears.

“I never would have, I only mean to say that I—”

“I wanted to hear of you, to listen to your words, and yet your absence reveals your character! You laugh and delight in suffering, you sit eagerly and watch wrongdoing commence—” Odin’s voice strained as he nearly shouted, sounding weary despite his outrage. “—and what is more egregious to my sight is that you revel in the unfortunate circumstance of others; would willingly cause them discomfort for your own pleasure!”

“No, that is not what I have done! I would tell you if you would only hear me, Father—” Loki leaned toward him, curbing his anger and looking at Odin imploringly.  

“Too often have I heard you, too often have I let you speak lies into my face; let you pacify me with shallow promises and gilded words concealing poisonous barbs beneath, thinking you mended of your ways. No more shall I allow this deceit in my presence, I cannot be wounded again with the blinded faith of a hopeful father, only to be laid low with your tricks!” Odin pressed Gungnir against the smooth stone again, and it rang like a peal of thunder.

Loki stepped back, eyes bright and watering. Odin set Gungnir into his damaged hand and then descended the steps from the dais, approaching Loki, deep red mantle swaying in his wake.

“It has been considered and thought out among the council, and it has been decided—I, Odin, king of this realm and protector of the Nine, now take from you your titles!” Odin reached out with his hand and caught Loki’s hand in his, wrenching the rings from his fingers to fling them to the ground; distantly they bounced and rolled across the marble. “I strip you of your place among my ancestors, and among my sons,” Odin took hold of the braid nearest Loki’s ear and pulled the golden clasp from it, and then from the next braid, and the next. Finally he combed the braids out with a rough downward motion of his fingers. Loki jerked his head. “For the crime of killing another Æsir who was your friend and companion, who trusted you—the son of your mother’s sister—I proclaim that you are no longer welcome within the gates of Asgard, and shall evermore be spurned by her citizens.”

Loki parted his lips, but no words came. He stared at Odin in soundless horror, waiting for the final blow sure to fall.

Odin had turned from him and taken two of the ascending steps to his throne, his shoulders hunched, and his stance tired, leaning heavily on Gungnir. But now he paused, looking back, forcing Loki to look up. “A life must be paid for the theft of a life. Loki Liesmith, for the crime you have committed—the cruel act of murdering Baldr in cold blood—you are sentenced to death. You will be taken hence to the Falls of Brunnr and deep into the caverns beside them, and there you shall be bound to the stone beneath the head of Franang. To suffer the poisonous venom that drips steadily from his fangs, until you are dead; however long the Fates decree that end shall take.”

Loki panted as the verdict reached its end and Gungnir rang out—loud and final through the chamber, symbolizing that the sentence should stand for all time. He yearned to breathe but felt as if someone had checked his flow of air. Staggering backward, he went easily into the hold of the Einherjar. His wild eyes found Ægir, looking ill and pale and pained. He had known this, and he hadn’t told him. He had known Odin would not hear him.

Franang.

Darkness.

Suffering.

Death.

Loki’s heartbeat pounded, he felt faint. The Einherjar dragged him toward the doors, away from the Council. Suddenly he rallied, fought against their relentless pulling, strove against the chains.

“No, no, you must hear me!” He twisted in the Einherjar’s grasp, broke loose, scrabbled across the marble as the guards raced after him. One stepped on the hem of his cape, and he fell headlong at the foot of the dais stairs. Loki reached out, fingers catching the edge of Odin’s red mantle. He stared up in mad desperation, feeling every single boyhood anxiety brought to bear. He pulled hard on the fabric like an adamant child, even as the Einherjar grabbed him and heaved him backward, tearing his hands out of Odin’s cape.

Loki twisted and arched his back, writhing fiercely. His tears fell hot and fast down his face. “You must, I beg you, hear me! All-father—my father, Father, do not let them do this to me—Do not let them put me in the dark, alone, to die! Hear me, hear my words! I am innocent of the crime you accuse me; I have done nothing wrong! Father!”

His voice resounded as the Einherjar took him from the council chamber.

But Loki only stared at Odin as the king stood there on the steps; silent, unmoved. Unfeeling. He felt his soul shatter into nine thousand pieces. Odin would not hear him. Angrboda had spokenthe truth; he had been only a pawn in the chess-match of politics, and he had been found wanting, so he was outcast; eliminated like so much refuse. It stung to understand in full how much a father could abandon a son. For the first time since his childhood, Loki wept bitterly.

[diamondcamefromhell]

Heartbreak

Jaskier x Fem!Reader

A/N: I am back with posting! I was considering doing Timeless Love, or one of the requests, but the ease back into it, i just wrote from my heart, and it came out a bit sad, but i promise i am okay! i wanted to thank everyone for being so patient and allowing me to have a break, it meant the absolute world, but i am so, so ready to get back to posting. timeless love will be updated soon, i swear, and i will get to the requests to, for now, enjoy this!

Summary: Y/N is a Lady that rules over one small county of Velen, until she runs into some trouble with ghouls, and needs to get some help. she meets geralt and jaskier, and soon things change.

Warnings: none, just a bit sad i guess

Word Count: 3,058 [longer one to came back with]

Being a royalty is viewed highly by most. Little girls grow up dreaming to be called Ladies, having people under their rule, suitors lining up, wanting to bewed you. Whole world at your feet, where with a single ring of a bell could get you anything.

In many ways, they were right. But in many more they were so wrong.

I was a Lady of a small county in Velen, commonly known as no man’s land. Ruling there, was nothing but hard. Terrible. Bandits and deserted soldiers. Monsters. Every evening I would eat, wondering if people are starving. Trying to figure out how to help them, what can I do with Nilfgaard breathing down our necks? Fear was in the air, and I was hopeless.

Heavy weight lays on my shoulders as more and more people come to me, asking for help. My soldiers stopped letting them in, but their voices still ring, thus sleepless nights find their way in, keeping me awake.

We had a monsters problem, a few ghouls nests came to be near some villages. People are terrified to leave their homes, their live stock is getting killed. They’re losing little food they have. I scrambled all the coin I could spare, calling upon someone, anyone.

It felt like I was shouting into empty space as first, as for weeks nobody answered. I would sit behind my walls, safe, wishing I could take them all in. Shelter them, protect them. It was my job, after all. But my screams for help disappeared into the night, as more and more of my people died. Right in front of me, before my very own eyes.

One day, however, things finally changed. A witcher answered my call.

I look at the man before me, as my soldiers tense up. With one hand movement, I clam them down. He is wearing all black armour, that seems to be mostly leather. I see two sheathes and two swords behind his back. His yellow eyes piercing me, as he holds the paper notice I tried to spread across Velen.

He is with a friend. A bard, from what I can tell. His blue eyes scanning the room, as I can see his mind already rushing to write all of the lines about it. His navy set fully buttoned up, lute resting by his side. Hair neatly brushed, unlike the witchers.

“You have a job?” I take my eyes back to the witcher. I dismiss my soldiers, following them with my eyes as they leave the room. I wanted to speak with them alone.

“Please.” I finally say, my voice shaking so slightly. I was thought not to show fear and waver, so I clear my throat. “We are in desperate need for your help, witcher. I may not be able to offer the best coin, but I will give you shelter and food and any aid you might need during your visit.”

“A ghoul problem?” He asks, reading the paper in his hand real fast.

“I dare to assume they’ve been nesting around my villages. At first my soldiers could hold them off, but…” I shrug, hanging my head low. “They don’t know how to fight monsters. They started dropping. The ghouls numbers grow.”

“I’ll get rid of them, don’t you worry.” His voice grows kind, and I notice my hands are shaking. I hide them in my dress.

“If I can assist you, in any way, don’t hesitate to ask.” I say, standing up. I go to the witcher, grabbing his upper hand. “Please, save my people.”

“I can assure you, I will do what I can.” A wave of relief washes over me and I allow myself to taste hope. I step back, bowing down.

“Thank you.” I raise again. “I can get you to your chambers now, if you please.”

“I’d rather go have a look around first.” I don’t argue, wrapping my arms around myself. I look at the bard. “Jaskier stays.”

“Jaskier, I can have someone take you to your chambers, if you want?” I ask, but the bard shakes his head. I look at the witcher again. “I can pay you before hand, so you know we’re fair.”

“I trust you. I’ll take payment after the job is done.” He turns on his feet, walking off.

The door slams behind him, as my soldier anxiously rush in, but I calm them down, letting them now it’s alright. Things actually might be okay. We had someone who was going to help us.

I look at the bard, as he offers me a kind smile.

“Can I get you anything? Drinks, food?” I anxiously ask, but Jaskier just smiles, shaking his head.

“Maybe I could entertain Lady Y/N? You seem to be stressed, a little music might be good.” I look at his lute again.

“It would be an honour.” I silently say, walking back to my chair.

I sit down as he strums the strings, his voice filling up the room. I can almost go back to the good days, the golden days. Where a bard singing in these halls wasn’t rare. When I was just a young child, with my parents having a steady rule.

Common folk would them come to cheer with us, sharing their fruits of labour. We would dance and sing together. My parents were loved and praised. Admired. I was the little lady then, a child with a bright future. As free as a wolf, running around not a worry in my head.

And only crown I wore was made from flowers. Only burden I had, was to not annoy the guards. Things were simpler.

But not a lute has rang in these halls since my parents death. My dad went first, attacked on a road by a pack of wild wolves. Only pieces of him brought home to bury. My mother was devastated, but she tried. She tried to rule and stay strong, but an illness came over her, and before my very own eyes, she went from strong, to bed-tied, to next to my father.

I was so young, and I had to wear a crown. People believed in me, hopeful eyes piercing through me, as the small iron crown was placed on me. Just symbolic, I never wore it since then. But I felt it’s weight nonetheless.

Jaskiers music stops, as I focus on him, just in time to see him rush towards me, as the guards stop that from happening.

“I am so very sorry, Lady Y/N, didn’t want to make you upset!” Upset? I place a hand on my cheek, to feel it’s wet from tears.

“No, it’s okay.” I say, quietly. I haven’t cried in years. “Guards, it’s okay. You may leave me and Jaskier alone.”

“But…” I raise my hand, shutting down the protest, as they leave the room. I look at the bard again.

“It’s been too long since such lovely music was played in my home. It took me back.” I explain, as worry paints his face even more.

“But why?” He asks, and I don’t know how to answer.

“Since my parents demise, it never felt right. I promised these people a good, bright future. But I gave them… this.” I point towards the door, bitterly. “Where I can not even promise them tomorrow.”

“But you’re trying.” I shake my head, crossing my arms over my chest.

“I get to sit behind my walls with my guards. I get to eat every day. I get to sleep in a comfortable bed.” My voice grows more bitter with each word, but I find it easy to talk. A ear of a stranger, somebody who doesn’t have any history in my home. Someone who can just listen. I need that. “They don’t have that. They get none of that, they starve, sleep on hay and now, death has made a home right in front of their front door. I need to try harder.”

“This burden isn’t easy,” I open my eyes to look at him, as he places his lute on the floor, sitting down in front of me, crossing his legs, “they must understand it. And you cant control the monsters.”

“No, I can’t.” I agree. I feel uncomfortable sitting and looking down at him, so I leave the chair, sitting next to him. “But these people… they count on me to at least try. Without me, they have nothing.”

“I’d count them lucky to have a Lady who cares so much.” I feel a smile come to my lips, as some of my gut fills with warmth. “Not everyone has that, especially in Velen.”

“It is my job to keep them safe and happy. Of course I care.” I say, looking at Jaskier, who seems to be lost in his own world. “The witcher is sure glad to have a companion like you. Looks to me like you have a big heart.”

“I am lucky to have Geralt too.” He focuses on me now, grinning. “Do you have someone like that?”

“No.” The warmth seems to leave my body, as cold settles back in. “My parents didn’t arrange anything before they died, and since the rule fell under me, I couldn’t find the time to look for anyone. Not when the whole continent is basically at war.”

“I meant a friend.” Jaskier says, rolling his eyes, and I giggle.

“No. I don’t have friends.” I say, as his eyes grow sad. I keep my smile on, just like I was trained. “Lady needs to rule, not make friends.”

“But that destroys a person.” Bard argues, as I place my chin on my knees.

“But it keeps the county safe.” I whisper.

The silence grows between us, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable. It feels almost good. Comfortable. I don’t want to fill it in with some blabber. I am used to sitting in this silent room, all alone. Having someone there felt good.

Right.

I almost didn’t want him to leave. I glance at him, to catch him looking at me, as he blushes slightly.

“Sorry.” He apologizes. Smile curls my lips, as a blush rushes to my cheeks as well. “While I know you don’t do friends, I could be one. For as long as we stay here. I think you need that.”

“I think I do.” I agree as he winks at me, grabbing his lute, filling the air with soft music and some humming.

Geralt came back later that day. He said the problem is manageable, but it will take a couple of days to get all the nests. I felt so happy, I could cry.

So the days went on. Five, to be exact. Five days where I had a friend, and two mouths to feed. I had to squeeze the rations for myself and my guards, but I kept the guests well fed. Made sure they slept comfortably and had baths ready for them.

But Jaskier didn’t care about all of that,

His first priority was to be my friend. Listening to me, advising me in any way he could. And I listened to him, his stories. I sang his songs and danced to his music. Even if it was just me and him in the room, it felt full of people, just like when I was a kid. I almost felt free.

I didn’t only open up about my struggles. I told him about the old times, the happy days. I laughed and smiled and was unapologetic in front of him. He didn’t treat me like a Lady, like I was above him. It was so easy because of that, I didn’t have to pretend.

For the first time in years, it felt like I could take my crown off.

And the day came where they were making their leave, just as my heart hopelessly started to fall. It was running these days, happy, and it just seemed to trip. There was no turning back, but I had to say the goodbye.

Geralt probably noticed something, as he said he will take one last bath before the road, allowing me and Jaskier some more time. Last hour to spent together.

We went outside, wondering the streets, as the air was lifted. People could leave their homes again, they were saved. Hope was around us, as children laughter rang in the air, scaring the crows from the trees.

“I missed seeing my people like that.” I say, offering them all kinds smiles, before I look at Jaskier again, who seems to be lost in thought. “You okay?”

“I’m worried.” I hang my head low.

“About me?” I ask, as I hear him sigh. He nudges me, but I don’t lift my head, staring at the grass at our feet.

“Yes. About you, Y/N.” He finally says and I glance at him, as he winks at me, taking his hand in mine. My heart skips a beat, as sunrays dance in his eyes. “I want you to be okay.”

“I will be okay.” I promise, not sure if I believe that. Losing him felt like it will hurt, set my soul on fire again, leaving me sleepless from heartache. But that storm will pass, I told myself.

“I wish I could stay.” He says so quietly, I almost don’t catch that. It helps that the town is now behind us, as we are climbing up hill. Soon we overlook the valley, as I stop.

“I wish so too.” I confess, loud enough for him to hear. Our eyes meet, and I straighten my grip, tears piercing my eyes again.

“But I can’t. I’m sorry.” His voice breaks in tune with my heart. I knew it, but it still hurt. “I might visit.”

“Don’t.” I cut him off, before he can promise me anything more. “My father said he’d be back soon, and he never came back. Don’t make a promise you may not keep.”

“Y/N.” His hand lands on my face, as he gently caresses my cheek. His touch feels warm, waking up my heart in an instant. I, however, pull away.

“When you leave, I will not sit there waiting for you.” I say, as my voice finally breaks and tears give in. “I will not live on hope.”

“I understand that.” I wipe my face, avoiding his gaze.

“I will not sing your songs anymore.” My voice shakes even more, as he gently places his hand on my shoulder.

“Okay.” His soft voice reaches my ears, as I feel like I am about to crumble.

“But I’ll never forget you.” I finally look at him, and although blurry, I can see how sad he looks. I pull him in, landing my lips on his. It’s sour from my tears, but also sweet. I pull away, holding onto his shirt. “And I’ll never forget this.”

“I’ll never forget you either, Y/N.” I stare at the Valley, just as the dusk breaks the sky open, and the new day begins. My eyes burn, but he view is gorgeous. I take deep breaths, looking at that.

“Thank you.” I turn back at Jaskier, who’s eyes are also a bit red. “You gave me lessons I didn’t know I need.”

“I’ll miss you.” I turn on my feet, heading back to town. Back to where I will be alone. But not lonely, as I am reminded of what my late mother used to say.

“Don’t miss me.” I quote her, blinking back the tears. “Because I am never truly gone. A part of me is always with you.”

“A part of me is always with you too.” He responds, quietly, as I glance back at him, smiling.

“Then I will never be friendless again.” I whisper.

We make our way back silently, as more townsfolk wake up to the beaming sun. We stop outside, as one of the guards hands the small pouch – their payment, and a bigger one, some food. Geralt comes out mere minutes later.

“Here. For your troubles, I added a bit more.” I say giving him the coin bag. “And some food for the road.”

“Keep the coin. You and your people need it more.” I stare at him in disbelief, as he takes the food. “They’re good folk, and you’re a good ruler. Take care of them. Thank you for the food.”

“I can’t leave you unpaid.” I try to argue, but he is already on his horse.

“Pay me with taking care of them, and yourself, Lady Y/N.” He offers me a smile. “Your hospitality was also payment enough.”

“Thank you.” I choke up, but don’t cry. Not in front of everyone, although I know they can tell I have been crying just by looking at me. I look at Jaskier, not finding the right words.

“Thank you.” He breaks the silence, stepping to me, for what I expect to be a hug. But he pulls me in, landing a kiss. This time it isn’t sour, our tears have dried. It’s sad, however, one that tastes like goodbye. One where you know you wont get to kiss this person again. Passionate. “This one is for me to remember.”

He whispers that, pulling away. I see Geralt looking away, as if to give us some privacy. Everyone seemed to be looking other direction. How kind. I look at Jaskier okay.

“Goodbye.” I finally squeeze out, as Geralt ushers his horse, and they make their leave.

This may not be the hardest goodbye I ever had to say, no. But it was unbearable, as flames set on my chest, causing my the ever-familiar sensation of loss.

But a wave of calmness washed over me, reminding me that Jaskier is always there with me. In my heart, part of him made home. I will always be abale to reach in that corner, to remember him. To remember how his kiss felt, and how we spent hours talking. His song will ring in my head, and I will wake up at night thinking I can hear the melody.

And maybe somewhere far away, at the same time, he will be playing it.

It was my first heartbreak. But unlike I expected, it wasn’t so horrible. I knew that my heart broke so part of it could stay with him.

And I knew it was in good, kind hands.

[blackcatkita]

Find Him  (Liam x MC)

So my last fic was all fluffy sweetness, figured I needed some angst for my favorite couple.. My mc’s name is Jennifer Reilly as a cute little nod to the default name. Set during the engagement tour, you will recognize some of the dialogue I’m sure. I do not own any of the characters, I’m just playing with them. If you like it, please comment and/or reblog! Thanks for reading!

tagging by request @captainkingliam @umccall71 @trianiasti

“Drake? What are you doing here?”

“It’s a store. Anyone can go into a store.”

“Yeah, but you’re the last person I expected to find in store that carried jewelry that required a down payment.”

“You got me there. I’m here to find a wedding gift for Liam. What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to pick up Madeleine’s wedding ring.”

“Ouch, that’s cold, even for her… We’ll find Tariq soon Reilly, we have to”

“What if we don’t?”

“Maxwell, what if we don’t find Tariq?”

“No! Don’t say that Jennifer! I’m just waiting to hear back from a few stores. Don’t give up hope now! We’re going to find him, I know it!”

The nighttime breeze rolling across the bay is cool against Jennifer’s skin as she stands with her eyes closed, hands resting on the railing. In an effort to calm her aching heart, she inhales deeply, savoring the familiar scents of her hometown. Only it isn’t home, not anymore. Home is Cordonia. Home is with Liam, but is that enough? 

If Bastien is to be believed, Tariq is in Los Angeles. A huge city that’s heavily populated and chock full of designer stores he might shop in. Maxwell would never let her down, he would give it his all but that didn’t mean they would be successful and if Tariq can’t be found, or if he refuses to cooperate, could she stand in that cathedral and watch Liam marry Madeleine knowing it should be her? Watch him live a public life with someone else at his side while his private life was devoted to her? No, no she couldn’t.

They were running out of time, and she was running out of hope.

She opens her eyes and watches the city lights dance reflectively on the water. This could be my home again too... Staying wouldn’t be easy, but going back with Liam still engaged wouldn’t be either. No matter what she does, it’s going to hurt. She loves Liam with every fiber of her being, so much so that it was almost scary sometimes and she knows he feels the same way, but she couldn’t continue to live like this. It was killing her.

Walking into the ballroom, her eyes fall on Liam and she smiles, heart stuttering in her chest like it always does. He radiates regality in his formal tuxedo, blond hair perfectly styled and a polite smile on his handsome face. She watches as he greets all who approach him, marveling at how he maintains the stoic façade that masks his private despair. He’s worried too, she can see it in his eyes. He’s in pain, and it takes every ounce of willpower she has not to wrap her arms around him and never let go.

Warmth spreads across her cheeks as he looks over and catches her staring. Eyes locked with hers, his smile brightens significantly for just a moment before the mask settles again and he turns back to the delegate to excuse himself.

He makes his way over, reaching out for her hand before remembering where they are. With a rueful smile, he drops it at his side. “Jennifer you look.. absolutely stunning.  I am thrilled to see that you made it safely over the Pacific.”

“Safely though not entirely comfortably. I think Maxwell downed about three pots of coffee and was bouncing off the walls complaining about time zones and ‘it’s not polite to not return messages’.”

“Ah,” Liam nods. “Unfortunately that is beyond my control but perhaps I can make it up to you. If you will allow me, I would very much like to take you out in the city tonight.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to take you out? This is my city after all.”

“You are right about that,” he agrees with a smile. “What would we do?”

“We can get lost in the crowd at Times Square.. stroll through Central Park.. It will remind us of the night we met, which if I recall, was a pretty good night.”

“You recall incorrectly,” His expression takes on a flirty air. “It was a spectacular night.” A man with an air of importance approaches and Liam’s falls so slightly that no one but she would notice. “It seems my courtly duties call. If you will have me, I will be waiting for you after the party.”

Aside from Maxwell’s faux paus over Sweden, then hitting an ambassador in the face with a bruschetta projectile, the night goes off without a hitch. Adelaide is sufficiently impressed, dances are danced and Jennifer works the room, pretending everything is fine and she couldn’t be happier to join the court on the engagement tour. Just as she’s ready to steal Drake’s flask for her own selfish needs she spots Liam at the edge of the ballroom, meeting her eyes and winking before sneaking out the doors. She waits a few minutes for good measure, saying goodnight to Maxwell before meeting Liam outside.

“Are you ready for the best walking tour of New York?” she asks him, heart racing with excitement. 

“Lead the way,” he replies with a smile.

Taking his arm, they begin to walk through the crowds of people, stopping briefly to buy Liam a graphic t-shirt from a street vendor and change into more casual clothes. They make their way toward Central Park, chatting and laughing like a normal couple in love visiting the city. But as happy and excited she was to pretend they had no worries about the future, it was a fantasy and as they enter the park, the conversation takes on a more serious tone. 

“Jennifer, there is something I wanted to discuss with you tonight,” he speaks softly, taking her hand in his and running his thumb across her knuckles. “I have been thinking about what the future may hold for us.”

“So have I, to be honest”

“We are so close to finding Tariq. Closer than ever to being able to be together in the open. If.. if that’s what you still want.” Sitting down on a park bench, he pulls her down beside him and tilts her face to meet his gaze with a forefinger beneath her chin. He looks down at her shorter form, eyes full of hope and longing. “Jennifer, it is important to me that you know that, regardless of what happens in the next few days, I love you. With everything that I am.”

“I love you too, Liam. So much.” 

He smiles, hand moving to cup her cheek. “No words have ever brought me greater joy than those,” he pauses, letting out a deep sigh as his smile melts into a frown. “The thing is.. knowing how you make me feel and that my feelings are returned.. How can I even conceive of marrying Madeleine?”

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t know whether I can go through with marrying Madeleine.. I know that I must, for my country, but.. I don’t want to think about what happens if we can’t find Tariq.”

Here it is, she thinks. The moment I’m going to break his heart. “Liam, I need to tell you something.”

“What is it my love?” he asks, worry taking over his expression as he drops his hand.

“If we cant find Tariq..” She forces the words out despite the crushing weight in her chest making it hard to breathe. “If we cant find Tariq, I’m staying here.. I’m staying in New York.”

He inhales sharply, gripping her hands tightly.

“I can’t watch you marry her Liam. I can’t,” she whispers, throat tight as tears blur her vision. He pulls his hands from hers and looks away, visibly shaking as silence stretches between them. “Liam, say something, please..”

He takes a deep breath, running his hands through his hair. “In the grotto, you said we would be together. No matter what. You said I was all you needed. In Paris, we hung our lock as a symbol of our commitment to each other. You told me I was the love of your life, that I would always have you. Now you’re telling me that you’re staying here. You’re telling me that everything you said to me before, it was all a lie.”

He’s angry, desperate and she knows he’s heartbroken, because she is too. Saying those words to him was one of the hardest things she’s ever done, he has to understand that. “None of it was a lie Liam.” Unable to hold it any longer, a sob escapes her lips as tears spill from her eyes and roll down her cheeks. “I love you with all my heart and that’s why I can’t watch you marry her. I can’t be the other woman living in secret. I can’t continue to watch the two of you every day pretending to be the happy couple. I can’t watch you be in a loveless marriage.”

“So instead you will leave me with no love at all?” he bites back.

“Let me finish please.. You expect me to live in the shadows? To only see you when she allows it? To never get married? To never have children? To be your whore for the rest of my life?” His head whips around to look at her, shock and anger written on his face. “Is that the life you want for me Liam?”

“Of course that’s not what I want!” he yells. “I want you! I want children with you! I want you to be my wife!” He trails off, eyes and voice softening as he looks away. “And don’t ever call yourself that again..”

“That’s what I would be though. You know it and I know it.”

“I know no such thing. You are not ‘my whore’ and you never will be. You are the woman I love. The woman I will love until my dying breath,” he pauses, thinking for a moment before determination takes over. “I will abdicate. I will stay in New York with you and we will build our life together here.”

“We’ve talked about this, Liam. You can’t abdicate. There’s no one to take your place, it would throw Cordonia into a tailspin. I wish with everything in me that wasn’t the case, but it is. Your country needs you, your people need you.”

“I don’t care. I need you, nothing else.”

“We both know that’s not true. You do care.. and that’s one of the many reasons I love you so much.”

“You’re breaking my heart Jennifer... please don’t do this.” He leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, holding his head in his hands. “I can’t... I can’t live without you. I won’t.”

“Liam, my heart breaks everyday.” She drops her gaze to her lap. “Every single day.”

He looks at her, cheeks wet with his own tears and wraps his arm around her, pulling her tight against his chest. “I’m so sorry my love. I’m so, so, sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen.” Reaching up, he gently brushes the tears from her cheeks. “We still have time. I have to believe we will find him. Please don’t give up on us yet. I love you more than anything in this world. We are meant to be together, I know we are.”

Gripping his t-shirt tightly, she kisses him desperately, trying to hold onto whatever time they had left. They cling to each other, both of them pouring the love they share into the embrace until she pulls away, burying her face in his neck. She breathes in his familiar scent and a warmth spreads through her chest. She knows without a doubt, that wherever it may be, with him is where she belongs. “I love you so much Liam.. I hope to God you’re right.”

Returning to the hotel hand in hand after what feels like hours, Liam walks her to her room. “Will you stay with me tonight?” she asks hopefully.

“Nothing would make me happier my love.” Bending down to place a soft kiss on her lips, he smiles, though his red rimmed eyes still betray his sadness.

“Hey you two!” Maxwell exclaims with his usual zeal as soon as they cross the threshold. “Where the heck have you been? We’ve been waiting for hours.”

“I apologize for making you wait Maxwell, we were on a date,” Liam answers.

“Oh really? Nice! Where did you go?”

“Central Park,” Jennifer replies, looking between Maxwell’s jovial expression and Bertrand’s scowl. “What are you two doing here?” 

“Well, I finally heard back from all the stores.” Maxwell’s smile widens further. “And... drumroll please... I narrowed it down to only ten!” 

“Which is still a high number,” Bertrand chimes in.

“Yeah, but it’s a start and a hell of a lot less than I thought it would be. You deserve a pat on the back Maxwell!” 

Pulling his phone from his pocket, Liam steps away as Maxwell enthusiastically pats himself on the back.

“Wait,” Jennifer adds. “Adelaide told me Tariq only wears Sartorini shoes, does that help narrow it down further?”

“Hell yes it does! Make that only three stores!” Maxwell holds up his hand for a high five and Jennifer raises her palm, clapping it against his with a smack. “Woo! Go team Jennifer!”

“How much sugar did he have today?” she asks Bertrand.

“You don’t want to know,” he answers, upper lip curled in disgust.

“I spoke with my pilot,” Liam informs them, walking back over as he slips his phone back in his pocket. The royal jet will be waiting at JFK to take you to Los Angeles.” He turns to Jennifer, face set in fierce determination. “Find him”

[yellowninjaleopard]

autumn winds chapter nine: hearts reunion.

The boat came to a gentle stop and pulled into the old home dock "tralalala, here we are now, bye bye" said the river person, autumn, bandy, Nona, wimsum and the others stepped out onto the wooden dock. Autumn wasted no time walking straight into the town, a serious look plastered on her face, many monsters who saw her began to whisper "is that a human?" One said, "you think it's the one the Prince's captured?" Said another. Autumn tripped and face planted the floor looking up she saw a skeleton wearing blue jean shorts, a beach t shirt, a sunny days baseball hat and Sandals. "Heya stranger, name's sandy, i didn't know i could make people fall for me so easily, he he." The skeleton laughed, autumn stood up and stared into the skeletons bright yellow eyes, autumn shook Sandy's hand, it seemed like sandy wasn't to much older than her. [*Name's autumn, say, you know where the prison is?] Sandy gripped autumn's hand "why? You been bad?" Said sandy, autumn tensed. Sandy laughed "I'm just trolling you, it's right up there, see?" Said sandy pointing towards the large building [*thank you]  Autumn noticed the prison in the distance and ran straight towards it, dust flying behind her as she ran like her life was endangered, autumn came to a stop, Nona, bandy and the others caught up behind her, panting like they've just ran faster than light itself. Two dog monsters stood infront of Autumn, "who goes there?!" The male asked, "is it a friend or foe" the female asked, autumn wondered if they were dating. [*Hello, I'm here on royal reasons, the king and queen sent me to take the human to them for a classified reason.] The guards looked at each other, then back at autumn, the female gave her the keys to frisks cell and stepped aside. [*You guys can take 5, I'll take it from here.] The two then walked away, autumn walked inside, contemplating on how in the heck she pulled that off. Walking through the halls, her shoes soels creating a tapping sound against the hard ground of the cold prison, autumn heard a gasp, coming from the very end of the hallway, autumn's pace sped up, anticipation building up inside her, finally, Autumn reached the final cell, and there stood the person autumn had been waiting to see again for three long years, there stood frisk, wearing blue shorts, a purple turtleneck sweater with pink gripes, black tights and knee high combat boots, along with a bandaid on her cheek. Autumns eyes welled up in tears, this was real, this time it wasn't a dream, a nightmare, this time, frisk was here. [*Frisk, you're really here, I've finally found you...I've missed you so much buddy...I've missed you so much...] Frisk looked at autumn confused "huh?" autumn's smile faulted slightly, she lifted her arm, showing frisk her friendship bracelet, frisk paused, pulling up her sleeve to reveal a similar bracelet. Frisk looked back to autumn. [*It's me, autumn, remember? We made these for each other the day we met? We promised never to take them off no matter what! That's what best friends are for right? Why else would i go tearin across half of this place lookin for ya? Your my best friend in the whole universe frisky...I've missed you so much...Please...Come home with me...] Suddenly, memories begin to flood frisks head, a familiar voice surrounds frisks mind. {[*Don't listen to haters, all they want to do is pull you down so they can feel like they're better, but they're not, you've just gotta be stronger.], [*Don't worry frisky bits, I've got your back!],[*please frisk, don't cry, it's not that i wanna leave you, I'd never wanna leave you, i wanna stay here with you, but, i cant....I'm sorry frisk, I'll miss you...So much.] "....I'll miss you too...."} Frisks eyes began to overflow with a salty sea of tears, threatening to pour out of her brown eyes. "A... Autumn....It...It's you...! It's really you!....I always wished we'd see each other again ever since you..." Said frisk as she began to sob uncontrollably, autumn quickly unlocked the cell door, swinging it open, frisk bounded out of the cell and tackled autumn into a bone crushing hug, frisks arms wrapped tightly around autumn's upper back, gripping her t shirt, autumn's arms wrapped tightly around frisk, one around her shoulder, the other hand holding her head, autumn began to cry, knowing this was real...She had finally found her friend, autumn felt as if her heart had been refilled, frisk felt safe...As if nothing could hurt her anymore, something she hadn't felt in a very long time, the two stayed like that for a while, hugging, sobbing, many tears were shed in the prison that night,  the two pulled away, autumn cupped frisks cheeks gently, smiling warmly. [*Golly...When did we become preteens?] "Pfft, you look like your mom with orange hair." Said frisk jokingly, referencing an old photo of autumn's mother in her childhood. Autumn giggled. [*Yeah...] autumn placed her fourhead on frisks gently, frisk smiled, the two then walked into frisks cell, sitting on the bed together. Bandy and Nona came in shortly after, meeting frisk and sitting on the floor, eventually falling asleep, autumn untied frisks coat from around her waist and put it around frisks shoulders, then unzipping her backpack and handing an energy bar and a diet soda to frisk. [*Eat up buddy...It's a long way back, you've gotta be starvin.] Frisk immediately tore open the energy bar and ate it, next opening the soda and drinking it down, frisk swallowed the diet soda, panting slightly. "Thank you.." said frisk in-between pants, autumn laughed a bit, then asked, turning to frisk, who turned to her [*how'd you end up here Frisk?] Frisk paused, but answered. "I went up the mountain to get some flowers for my parents, i went back but they weren't there, i...later the cops came to my house and told me they died in a car crash, i was supposed to go into foster care...But i ran away..I went back to the mountain and tried to make it...It didn't work...What about you?" Autumn put her arm around frisk [*when i found out you were down here, i flew down here after ya, weirdest bizz though, i kept havin dreams about you, and you'd always get or almost get killed by some crazy lady in a robe, and before i could get to you, Everything turns black and then a yellow light blinds me, the last one i had was...I came to this cell, i thought you'd be here but i was wrong, instead i found this place drenched in blood...Then there was that lady, they were on the floor bleeding, i let her die, then the light came back..And i come here again and you're here this time, nuts right?] Frisk froze, autumn could see past resets? Even so, how? Frisk was snapped out of her thoughts when autumn said something that made her worries wash away like nothing. [*sounds like it ain't been easy for ya, tell you what, as soon as we get outta here, you can come live with me and my parents? Think about it, we could set up a room, i could teach ya how to skateboard, we could hang out together like old times, we...We could be like...Sister's. whaddya say frisky? You wanna join the family tree?] Frisks eyes welled up in tears "you really mean that...?" Asked frisk in a teary tone, [*heck yeah man we're a team, you and me til the end! Nothings ever gonna change that, so waddya say? Old times?] Frisk was speachless, she looked into autumn's blue and hazel eyes,  "y-yes! I would love that!" Said frisk as she tackle hugged autumn, who hugged back smiling. autumn then handed frisk the small gift, frisk opened it, untying the ruby red ribbon and lifting out an amber autumn leaf shaped locket, frisk looked at autumn, then back at the locket, opening it, inside was a picture of her and autumn standing in the forest in October, it was a week after they had met, they were both really young back then, frisk closed the locket and looked at autumn. [*I made it for you while i was away, i wanted to give it to you when...Well, may as well give it to ya now, think of it as a 'welcome to the family' gift. See? An amber leaf for you....And...] Autumn pulled out a red maple leaf shaped locket similar to frisks. [*A red maple leaf for me! See? We match.] Frisk then remembered what autumn meant, that day in the forest, they both picked out a leaf and traded them, that was they're first symbol of friendship. Frisk sighed. [*It's too cliché isn't it?] Frisk looked at autumn in surprise. "No no! It's not that! It's just, the people who locket me up had matching lockets, but, still, this is beautiful autumn, i'll cherish this...Thank you." Said frisk holding the locket close, then putting it around her neck, safely tucking it under her turtleneck. Frisk put her coat on and zipped it up, mainly for warmth, frisk then yawned, as did autumn, autumn lay down on the bed, signaling for frisk to lay with her, frisk lay next to autumn, autumn put her arm around frisks shoulder, pulling her closer to her chest, frisk hugged autumn from the side as they both closed they're eyes and drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep. But before they did, they spoke, they're eyes still closed. "Autumn...?" Said frisk [*yeah...?] Frisk smiled warmly, snuggling closer to autumn. "I'm happy to see you..." Said frisk tiredly. Autumn smiled and hugged frisk closer. Both falling into a deep sleep [*I'm happy to see you too..Don't worry frisky, you're safe now, nobody is going to take you away, as long as I'm here, nobodies gonna hurt you, ever again.] 

To be continued...

[*Knowing that your best friend is finally safe in your arms, fills you with COURAGE] 

[artificialqueens]

Death becomes her (Sashea) ~ Hobnob

A/N: Hey so yeah I’m in Canada at the moment and its ok. Im by a lake so thats cool because in England if you went in a lake you’d die. The only thing is the graveyards over here are shit. Like, really bad. Its about 8 pieces of stone with names slapped on them. Thats it. The graveyards in England are gr8 they’re all fancy with big ol chapels and local dog-walkers its rite good. Theres one right outside our tesco extra so you can have a fag and a discount grab bag of monster munch

I suppose what I’m saying is i miss England but only mostly graveyards so heres a sashea grave digger au.

A crisp Sunday morning. A group of twelve people stood around a ditch, 6ft deep.

Shea stood beside it, a neatly piled heap of dirt to the left of her. She gripped the handle of her shovel and allowed a shiver to wash over her. Each drawn out breath would hang in the air as everyone clung to their thick coats, toes and fingertips frozen numb.

The grass beneath her was speckled with last nights downpour, buttercups sprouting sporadically in every crevice of the yard. Each grave was maintained regularly on weekends, but this didn’t stop lichens spreading across the surface of the stone, creating spools of rusted orange and brown.

This wasn’t uncommon for Shea, she’d dug graves for countless amounts of the deceased. What was unusual is the fact she stuck around for the vicars sermon. Shea was paying her respects to a lost friend, who was in the coffin not a metre away.

Sasha velour, born 1987 died at the age of 30.

The funeral was going pretty much as expected, nothing more nothing less. It was all extremely respectful; but Shea knew Sahsa would be rolling in her grave. She was so full of colour, energy and life. To have all her friends stood around a ditch holding back tears would of caused her such pain.

She would of wanted her body to be stuffed with the feathers of a dove then covered in paint or something outrageously artsy like that.

The church bells chimed the tune of ‘Westminster Quarters.’ The schoolchildren playing football in the street peeled off one by one as they were called in for lunch, their knees covered in bruises and scrapes.

The ringing ceased and there was only silence; even the occasional cars making their run to town seemed to stop completely.

The vicar brushed some lint off her robe and cleared her throat. She was clad head to toe in black apart from her clerical collar which shone white in contrast. Vicar Brown was well known amongst the townsfolk. She knew almost everything there was to know about the town and its residents. Any social event, any formal, and she’s be there with her signature tray of rice krispie cakes and a grin.

Vicar Brown was dedicated to her work no doubt. Her knowledge helped when it came to writing eulogies and giving the dead a respectful burial. There were no secrets in this town.

Part of Shea found that unsettling.

The service began and as usual, Farrah was the first to burst out into tears. Valentina gave her shoulder a small squeeze, but mostly in an attempt to shut her up.

The standard funeral ensued. Tears, boredom, last words, goodbyes. Funerals are painful, regardless of if you knew the deceased. Everyone bowed their head as Peppermint tossed a rose on the casket.

“We now commit her body to the ground; earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust: in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life…”

Farrah began to cry again.

The casket was lowered and the sky was spitting. Everyone was eager to pop into a local café and stave off the cold with coffee, but for Shea the hardest part was just beginning. She still had to fill in the entirety of the grave.

Some mumbled some personal goodbyes to the lowered coffin, some put on a brave face and left with no words. Shea sighed and gripped at her shovel again as everything seemed to go back to normal almost instantaneously.

“You okay girl?”

Shea jolted at the voice. She felt a hand on her shoulder and spun around. Trinity Taylor was stood directly ahead of her with a sympathetic smile. They had been very close at one point.

“Jesus Christ Trinity you scared me for a moment” Shea strained, balling a fist into the fabric of her coat. She wasn’t dressed in the most funeral-ish attire but she had dirty work to do. “Im ok i just…me and sasha were speaking just the other day-”

“I know right?” Trinity cut in. “She seemed fine! I’d be more sad if i wasn’t so shocked.”

They both stood in silence for a moment. Shea turned her attention to the coffin as the rain began to bead up on the varnished wooden surface. She reached for the shovel again and frowned at Trinity.

“They wouldn’t tell me how it happened…all i got was one phone call telling me my best friend was dead and when the funeral was.” Shea said, beginning to fill in the ditch.

“Well thats what i was going to ask you, how it happened, you really don’t know?” Trinity asked in confusion everyone had been in the dark about Sasha’s death, even her closest friends.

Shea was hoping to get the phone call about Sasha. How it happened, where it happened, why it happened. Shea couldn’t help feeling information was being withheld from her for a reason. She felt sick.

“You don’t need to stick around girl, i got it covered” Shea said mustering the most sincere grin she could. “I’ll call you if they tell me anything else.”

“Not if, when. I’ll get to the bottom of this myself if i have to.”

Shea nodded and gave Trinity a tight hug. She admired her optimism in such a bleak scenario, but still, she just didn’t feel right.

“Stay strong Shea.”

And with that, Trinity was gone. Sasha’s closest friends had paid their respects and were probably eating a cheese and onion pastie in Greggs by now. She carried on shovelling the dirt over the woman she had spoken to just 3 days ago, playing every possible scenario in her head, over and over.

The heap of soil got smaller as the grave got fuller. The coffin was no longer visible, nor the rose placed on top of it. Sasha would’ve loved the symbolism of that. The situation was setting in and Shea’s breathing was becoming erratic.

She couldn’t finish burying the coffin, she just couldn’t. Shea dropped the shovel in the grass and stood over the half filled grave, her eyes brimming with tears. The rain wasn’t letting up as she crossed her arms in an attempt to keep any kind of warmth.

in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life

Shea needed to get inside. She couldn’t carry on.

Her attention turned to the church. Its stained glass glowed a fuzzy tinted red from the candlelight inside. Shea stepped in the archway and felt her breathing return to normal. She shut her eyes as she felt the wooden door behind her slammed closed. The steady beat of raindrops pounded against the windows.

“Done already?”

For the second time that day Shea jumped. She scrambled against the doorframe clasping at her heart. It was the vicar, clutching a small bible, possibly preparing upcoming services for the more religious townsfolk. Shea didn’t fall under that category. She gathered herself before speaking.

“Ah-just taking a small break vicar” Shea admitted, her eyes red tears that had been held back. “Im sorry it was cold i just wanted to-”

“Oh please, call me Tammie,” Vicar brown began, shaking her head. “You were good friends with Sasha, no?”

Shea tried to speak, but her whole mouth felt like it was shut together, all she could do was nod.

“It cant be easy having to bury one of your loved ones, its hard enough saying goodbye…” Tammie sighed, putting down her bible and casting a distant glare over to the other side of the church. “Have they told you how she passed?”

She paused for a moment and looked to the floor, trying to muster coherent words. “They-they just said there had been an accident.”

Tammie gave a sympathetic look and patted Shea on the shoulder. She was being patronised. Shea shrugged off the vicars touch and furrowed her brow. The entirety of Tammie’s eulogy seemed almost impersonal, and the last thing she needed was the pity of others.

Nobody knew Sasha velour like she did.

Vicar brown continued. “Thats a shame, isn’t it? Im sure they’ll find out more soon, hm? Chin up duck.” She said with a grin. Tammie picked up her pockett sized bible and flicked to a page almost systematically. “Whoever is patient has great understanding, but one who is quick-tempered displays folly.”

Shea let out an internal sigh. She knew it wasn’t her god given right to know everything at all times, but when it came to the death of her best friend a bit of information was the least she deserved.

“i was actually thinking of doing some sleuthing?” Shea admitted. She had found some confidence, as evident in her tone of voice. “maybe ask a few of her family membe-”

“Shea” Tammie cut her off. Her tone was less cheery than before, more intense. “That verse is one i hold very dearly to my heart. Its never steered me wrong before.” She said, tapping her head.

“I’ll…keep that in mind vicar.”

“Please, Tammie.”

“I’ll keep that in mind Tammie.” Shea corrected herself. She had to finish her work and get out of there as soon as possible. Tammie was a nut-case, and Shea was hardly in the mood to be recited christian teachings. “Don’t let me keep you, ill go back to my work.”

Tammie nodded, her face easing up a little, “See you around miss Coulée.” she spun on her heel and made her way back into the confides of the church. The flickering of candlelight casted a silhouette as she left Shea’s line of vision.

Shea couldn’t leave the church quick enough. The rain was hardly a concern at this point. She grabbed the handle of the shovel and inspected her work. Still around half way to go…shit.

“Need some help?”

Shea spun around! Crikey! The ghost of Sasha velour!

“Sup cunt im back.” She stood there in her ghostly glory.

“Sasha you dick pig give us a hug!” Shea said happily.

“Cant, im a ghost.” Sasha shrugged, covering herself in honey mustard and trail mix as an art statement about famine.

Shea was over the moon, this was like, well unexpected. She threw the shovel through the stained glass window and did the electric slide.

“Want to go get a pint?” Sahsa asked, checking her casio sports watch.

“Yah, but how did you die?” Shea said. She had to know the entire story had been building up to this.

“Global warming.” Sasha retorted, breaking momentarily to cough up a bunch of roses.

“Fuck me, i could’ve sworn it was Tammie brown.”

Sasha shooketh her egg head. “Have you even seen scooby doo? Its never the person you expect ya uncultured swine.”

“Have you come to haunt me?” Shea said spitting out her gum into sasha’s grave.

Sasha shrugged. “Good story writing is a construct, tear it apart.”

Shea nodded. That all wrapped up very nicely. Niiiice big ol bow slapped on top. Very conclusive.

“Lets go get you that pint then you cheeky slag.”

And with that they went down to the local tappie for some larger. Not long after they got married in wales at a Dixy Chicken after going on a 3 week bender.

Happy Halloween!

A/N: Bit shit, mediocre, liberal stuff Class is a construct, eat my muff Horrible shit and tolerable shit Cameron made england for the brits This maccies, this is fine Don’t need a nando’s, roadmen in lines For a revolution with naff intentions Brexit was called to fuck generations Yeah man, lend us a quid Student loans and atm im skint :( I’m in so much pain, NHS is whack Theres a lot of politicians, but they all know jack Chavs, roadmen, meddle in gangs Blocked off the alley, can’t get to my nan’s Bar’s, pubs, Underaged drinking England is shit, and LONG LIVE THE KING