Ult X-men - Gambit/Rogue/Juggernaut - #14
Title: The Cusp
Fandom: Ultimate X-Men
Characters: Gambit/Rogue/Juggernaut
Prompt: #14 A whiter shade of pale
Word Count: 400
Rating: PG
Summary: Sometimes death isn't instant but it is eternal
Author's Notes: Character death
"You're turning pale,' he whispered, fingers lightly tracing through Rogue's hair and brushing it back from her face, as his arms wrapped around her slender form, pulling her close.
"You'll crush the beads,' she warned, even as she molded her petite form to his, the crimson gown be damned. "And I'm always pale, Remy. It's a southern thing." It was a joke between them, one they'd laughed about more than one night.
"Ghostly then,' he said, hand sliding down so that he could cup her chin, canting her head back to match her gace and though her eyes were open, they might as well have been closed for all he could make out any emotion in them. He felt sick, like the floor were swaying beneath him on an ocean wave and he heard a humming as the lights splayed out over them. "He's waiting for you now. You should go."
"No, I can't. I'll stay with you, Handsome. Just you and me and the gulf coast. Remember how we're gonna go home?" Desperation tinged her tones and those empty eyes were now full of tears, wicked salty things that spilled down her face and where they touched her skin glowed as if the life within was being leeched from her very soul.
But the light grew stronger and his hold fainter, pulling away with a sad smile. "The truth is plain to see, Marion. I won't let it be,' he said, fingers flickering through the cards he held until the Ace of Spades fluttered out, holding still on the breeze. But even as she watched, the changed and it was the grim reaper's scythe that marked the card. "Death, she's come for me, Rogue. I can't ignore her call. Not this time. Cain's waiting for you now. He'll take care of you."
Her shriek was the demented cry of the banshee, pain poured out in that sound that was nothing but the anguish of her loss. Screaming until she couldn't hear herself, until her vocal cords were raw and there was nothing but huge arms around her, holding her tight.
"Let's go home, Rogue." No accent, no sweet southern twang. But it was okay because she wasn't even aware of anything but the scythe of Death cutting into her heart.
Fandom: Ultimate X-Men
Characters: Gambit/Rogue/Juggernaut
Prompt: #14 A whiter shade of pale
Word Count: 400
Rating: PG
Summary: Sometimes death isn't instant but it is eternal
Author's Notes: Character death
"You're turning pale,' he whispered, fingers lightly tracing through Rogue's hair and brushing it back from her face, as his arms wrapped around her slender form, pulling her close.
"You'll crush the beads,' she warned, even as she molded her petite form to his, the crimson gown be damned. "And I'm always pale, Remy. It's a southern thing." It was a joke between them, one they'd laughed about more than one night.
"Ghostly then,' he said, hand sliding down so that he could cup her chin, canting her head back to match her gace and though her eyes were open, they might as well have been closed for all he could make out any emotion in them. He felt sick, like the floor were swaying beneath him on an ocean wave and he heard a humming as the lights splayed out over them. "He's waiting for you now. You should go."
"No, I can't. I'll stay with you, Handsome. Just you and me and the gulf coast. Remember how we're gonna go home?" Desperation tinged her tones and those empty eyes were now full of tears, wicked salty things that spilled down her face and where they touched her skin glowed as if the life within was being leeched from her very soul.
But the light grew stronger and his hold fainter, pulling away with a sad smile. "The truth is plain to see, Marion. I won't let it be,' he said, fingers flickering through the cards he held until the Ace of Spades fluttered out, holding still on the breeze. But even as she watched, the changed and it was the grim reaper's scythe that marked the card. "Death, she's come for me, Rogue. I can't ignore her call. Not this time. Cain's waiting for you now. He'll take care of you."
Her shriek was the demented cry of the banshee, pain poured out in that sound that was nothing but the anguish of her loss. Screaming until she couldn't hear herself, until her vocal cords were raw and there was nothing but huge arms around her, holding her tight.
"Let's go home, Rogue." No accent, no sweet southern twang. But it was okay because she wasn't even aware of anything but the scythe of Death cutting into her heart.