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I believe I've posted only three times here (and I'm a Major... I think) so~ a slightly old piece of work that still holds value even though its not that good (it needs work which maybe I'll get to someday).
Title Glory
Author Shinoku TAKESHITA
Rating open to interpretation
Genre N/A
Characters Gackt
Summary "The world that expands within your arms is the last Secret Garden."
Disclaimer: I do not intend to profit, money wise, from this work of fiction. The only profit I take will be from a satisfaction and education stand point. Featured people within this work of fiction are of legal age [even though this work is sans anything explicit].
He had seen a great many things in his life. Things that you would have to witness to truly believe were possible or real. He’d been to nearly every country across the world, been to the far reaches of Africa, France, Germany and America. Stood on a large podium in front of fifty thousand screaming, adoring fans, awaiting the sound of his voice as he spilled forth his heart to them, his passion and his craving, giving them all. The amazing spectacle of these young people swaying to his words, all attention focused solely on him, bright eyes expecting, hearts open and reaching, reaching hands, hoping for one touch of the air he’d breathed. All for him.
But nothing, Gackt reasoned, nothing was as spectacular as staring death in the face as the great crashes of water pulled him down, gripped his body with terrifying fear and blinded his sight to the sun… only to win the battle.
Down She had pulled him, down, filled his lungs with Her, taking his fear, his life, in Her hands for those stolen minutes that seemed to stretch on for hours. Cradled him in fake comforting embrace. Freezing and warm all at the same time.
She had granted him mercy that time and the time after that. Perhaps She had known he would attain greatness, soar the heights of godliness, grip the hearts of so many. Her penetrating effects had helped to mould him like the wet clay all children are. He had become a great man.
So, again Gackt reasoned, so it was only logical that for all this mercy and euphoria She had granted him that it would only be right that, at the end of the winding path paved with awe-some golden bamboo, that She be the one to take it all away.
He would offer up his life to Her, on an even greater podium than that of what he had experienced above the Sea of followers. It was time to give back what was Her’s.
He had returned here, to Okinawa, solely for this one journey. It was these waters that he had tempted The Fates, logically it should be his Home waters that would be the resting place. Rest.
The rushing water stretched to his feet, reaching for him. She was calling him to Her bosom. Her touch was warm and inviting. Soft tendrils, ghosts of fingers, brushed at his ankles, caressed his toes, relaxed him.
“Come,” She told him. “Come Home to me,” She’d sigh, “Let us soar together.” Feet took him further out, further Home until Her warm touch reached his naked hips.
He paused in Her depths and he could tell She was impatient, a coldness bit at his flesh; “Too long.”
“Too long”, She was saying, he had drawn this out. This interstice could go on no longer. Forward, forward he stepped until Her mantle covered to his shoulders, Her affection lapping at his face; small seducing kisses to his lips.
“Come.” She coaxed.
He stood, and he waited.
It was the time of Her reasoning. This was not a suicide; it was a perfect setting for a wonder-full finish.
Her embrace warmed him; soon She would hold him to Her bosom one more time. Now it was the reprieve before the climax. He did not take a breath to fill his lungs.
A kiss to his parted lips, a different kind to their first, and She sent upon him his Requiem;
She eclipsed his body, covering his head in Her surf. She took him under, a last journey down.
He had seen a great many things in his life. But nothing, Gackt had reasoned, nothing was as spectacular as staring death in the face as the great crashes of water pulled him down, gripping his body with terrifying fear and blinding his sight to the sun…
and not needing to win this One, Last, Final battle.
I would like to point out to you all that the graphology and the capitalisation of certain words is all for a reason and effect.
Also, I have avoided using harsh and 'finalising' words until the very end for my intended effects. I hope this is noticable, unless you simply take this work of fiction at face value.
Title Glory
Author Shinoku TAKESHITA
Rating open to interpretation
Genre N/A
Characters Gackt
Summary "The world that expands within your arms is the last Secret Garden."
Disclaimer: I do not intend to profit, money wise, from this work of fiction. The only profit I take will be from a satisfaction and education stand point. Featured people within this work of fiction are of legal age [even though this work is sans anything explicit].
He had seen a great many things in his life. Things that you would have to witness to truly believe were possible or real. He’d been to nearly every country across the world, been to the far reaches of Africa, France, Germany and America. Stood on a large podium in front of fifty thousand screaming, adoring fans, awaiting the sound of his voice as he spilled forth his heart to them, his passion and his craving, giving them all. The amazing spectacle of these young people swaying to his words, all attention focused solely on him, bright eyes expecting, hearts open and reaching, reaching hands, hoping for one touch of the air he’d breathed. All for him.
But nothing, Gackt reasoned, nothing was as spectacular as staring death in the face as the great crashes of water pulled him down, gripped his body with terrifying fear and blinded his sight to the sun… only to win the battle.
Down She had pulled him, down, filled his lungs with Her, taking his fear, his life, in Her hands for those stolen minutes that seemed to stretch on for hours. Cradled him in fake comforting embrace. Freezing and warm all at the same time.
She had granted him mercy that time and the time after that. Perhaps She had known he would attain greatness, soar the heights of godliness, grip the hearts of so many. Her penetrating effects had helped to mould him like the wet clay all children are. He had become a great man.
So, again Gackt reasoned, so it was only logical that for all this mercy and euphoria She had granted him that it would only be right that, at the end of the winding path paved with awe-some golden bamboo, that She be the one to take it all away.
He would offer up his life to Her, on an even greater podium than that of what he had experienced above the Sea of followers. It was time to give back what was Her’s.
He had returned here, to Okinawa, solely for this one journey. It was these waters that he had tempted The Fates, logically it should be his Home waters that would be the resting place. Rest.
The rushing water stretched to his feet, reaching for him. She was calling him to Her bosom. Her touch was warm and inviting. Soft tendrils, ghosts of fingers, brushed at his ankles, caressed his toes, relaxed him.
“Come,” She told him. “Come Home to me,” She’d sigh, “Let us soar together.” Feet took him further out, further Home until Her warm touch reached his naked hips.
He paused in Her depths and he could tell She was impatient, a coldness bit at his flesh; “Too long.”
“Too long”, She was saying, he had drawn this out. This interstice could go on no longer. Forward, forward he stepped until Her mantle covered to his shoulders, Her affection lapping at his face; small seducing kisses to his lips.
“Come.” She coaxed.
He stood, and he waited.
It was the time of Her reasoning. This was not a suicide; it was a perfect setting for a wonder-full finish.
Her embrace warmed him; soon She would hold him to Her bosom one more time. Now it was the reprieve before the climax. He did not take a breath to fill his lungs.
A kiss to his parted lips, a different kind to their first, and She sent upon him his Requiem;
She eclipsed his body, covering his head in Her surf. She took him under, a last journey down.
He had seen a great many things in his life. But nothing, Gackt had reasoned, nothing was as spectacular as staring death in the face as the great crashes of water pulled him down, gripping his body with terrifying fear and blinding his sight to the sun…
I would like to point out to you all that the graphology and the capitalisation of certain words is all for a reason and effect.
Also, I have avoided using harsh and 'finalising' words until the very end for my intended effects. I hope this is noticable, unless you simply take this work of fiction at face value.