#as always when i try to do something to commemorate something it never turns out the way i first expected | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

slaymitchabernathy · 1 month ago

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A Christmas Miracle

My dearest Soarynn, I'm writing to you with the grandest news I could ever bestow upon you. All Capitol troops will be returning home for Christmas. We'll be permitted to stay for one week before returning to our base camp. I know you'll want as much time as possible to plan for my arrival, although I am confident in your abilities to arrange for proper accommodations to be made. We will arrive on Sunday and there is to be a dinner on Monday night to commemorate our fallen comrades. I do hope you're well darling, not a single day goes by without me thinking of you. I cherish the photographs and letters you send me with all my heart, and cannot wait to have you back in my arms again. I do not know when our train will be arriving, so please, check the train schedules frequently. You are a constant light in the darkness of the Districts my love and I am anxiously waiting for the day when we can be together without worry or fear. I will see you on Sunday, please take care of yourself, my darling girl. Love, Coriolanus

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn nervously eyes her reflection in the mirror.

Does she look okay? Is her hair too shiny? Will he think she looks pretty?

"You look beautiful Miss Soarynn," her maid gushes, setting the hairbrush down on the counter, "Mr. Snow will be head over heels when he sees you at the train station."

Soarynn blushes, she's always been complimented on her beauty but his opinion is the only one that truly matters. Still, she appreciates the kind words, goodness knows everyone could use a kind word or two in these dark times.

Two years ago, war broke out in the Districts again. Soarynn had thought it was impossible, especially after the last war ended with the Capitol on top and the Districts on the bottom. Her husband, Coriolanus Snow had assured her time and time again that another war was impossible.

For once he was wrong.

The war didn't make its way to the Capitol this time, no, it remained in the Districts, and in an effort to contain it, the Capitol began sending troops to the wilderness of the Districts. Coriolanus was drafted due to his family legacy, his own father had been a general in the first war during the Dark Days and he was more than willing to serve his country.

Soarynn was less willing to watch her husband board a train and possibly never come back. Even though he assured her that he was simply there along with the other troops to impose their presence, she still wasn't convinced. They had been newly married and trying to start a family, why couldn't he stay with her where it was safe?

Coriolanus of course, saw it as a great honor to serve Panem and promised to write to her once a week and if allowed, make phone calls. Soarynn thought it was ridiculous, they lived together and now they were getting excited over five-minute phone calls.

Still, for him to come home for an entire week after being gone for so long was a treat as great as any and she wouldn't be taking it for granted. She had filled their week with lots of winter activities leading up to Christmas. She had the maids clean the penthouse from top to bottom, wanting everything to be perfect for Coriolanus.

She went out and bought him some new clothes, and...some new lingerie for herself as well. They'd certainly be busy at night.

"I certainly can't wait to see him again," she murmurs, reaching for her compact, "one week isn't long enough."

Being left alone in the Capitol had been hard on Soarynn. She used to spend nearly every moment with Coriolanus and now, she was on her own. She had turned to extreme measures, turned to something that galas and tea parties could not fix.

She got a cat.

She knew Coriolanus wouldn't exactly be thrilled but she was desperate for constant companionship. She glances out into her bedroom where her cat, Petunia, is curled up on her husband's pillow, sound asleep. She hopes they'll get along.

Coriolanus was used to a house with just the two of them and Petunia is used to a house with just the two of them.

There might be a war within the Snow household this week.

But they'll barely be home with what she has planned for them. At least that's what she tells herself.

Soarynn inspects herself one last time, making sure there's not a single flaw in her appearance. She wore light makeup today since Coriolanus has always loved her freckles so much. Maria styled her hair perfectly, curling it and then pulling back some pieces to tie with a bow. Soarynn grabs one of her favorite perfume bottles, one that holds a vanilla scent, and liberally sprays it all over herself. She wants to engulf Coriolanus in her scent.

She rises from her vanity stool and makes her way into the closet, the closet that feels so empty without some of his clothes in it. He'll certainly be glad to return with some new ones and Soarynn will be glad to wear his old ones. She often sleeps in his shirts, clinging to the scent of roses and something masculine that she just can't get enough of.

"Red or blue?" She asks Maria, pulling out two dresses, nearly identical to each other. Maria inspects both of them, gently touching the fabric, "I think the red one Miss," she tells Soarynn who nods in agreement, Coriolanus has always liked red.

"Perfect, will you please go fetch my coat and gloves?" She asks, unzipping the dress. "Certainly Miss," Maria gives Soarynn a small curtsy before leaving to go get her things and Soarynn slides off her silk robe.

She only looks at her almost naked self in the mirror for a second, reminding herself how lucky she is to be standing in a closet full of clothes with a household staff at her beck and call. She could be in the streets, starving and cold but she's safe and warm.

The war didn't affect everyone in the Capitol like it did last time. She remembers the first war, the bombs, her parents both dying, how hungry people were. This war has been different.

Only the lower and middle classes have been truly affected by it. Food has become limited but not scarce, there are ration lines but only for those who absolutely need it and Soarynn isn't one of those people. By marrying a Snow, she solidified herself in the upper class, in the elite. Every once in a while there will be a shortage of strawberries or meat but it's always resolved rather quickly.

If anything, the war has been a great inconvenience for her, disrupting her normal plans. She still goes to tea with her friends, still goes on shopping sprees, still gets pedicures every other week. Coriolanus didn't leave her with nothing. He suffered from the first war too, losing both his parents and a good bit of his family fortune. He spent the next ten years building his name back up and now, he's one of the richest men in Panem.

With his investments, business ventures, and connections, he left Soarynn to live a comfortable life of luxury. And the Capitol pays him to be at war.

It's the best-case scenario for a thing like this but she still wishes he didn't have to leave in the first place.

Soarynn shakes those thoughts off and slips into the dress. It's a very flattering look on her with a boat neckline that shows off a bit of her collarbones. It's sleeveless but she'll have her coat and gloves and it fits her figure perfectly, stopping right below her knees to show off her white high heels. With her hair and makeup done perfectly as well, she makes for a picture of sophistication.

Maria returns with her coat and gloves and helps Soarynn into them. Maria has been a godsend to Soarynn who had been quite overwhelmed once Coriolanus left. She's younger than Soarynn but very mature, always helping Soarynn manage in taking care of such a large apartment. She'll occasionally accompany Soarynn to the market if she needs to buy something specific and is always a good source of advice.

Soarynn had hired Maria right before Coriolanus left and she's been a loyal servant ever since.

"We'll be back later tonight," Soarynn tells Maria while searching for the right purse, "he'll want bourbon or whiskey, maybe both. And please make sure that the bath has been properly cleaned as well. He'll have lots of laundry that'll need to be done before he leaves."

Maria nods along to all of her words, "Yes Miss Soarynn, everything will be ready for Mr. Snow's arrival."

Soarynn picks a black handbag, leather and beautifully crafted, a gift from Coriolanus a few years ago when they were engaged, "Perfect. I'll call if anything comes up."

Maria walks her to the front doors and Soarynn buttons her coat, taking in a deep breath, "Enjoy yourself Miss Soarynn," Maria kindly tells her, "you deserve to have this time with your husband."

Soarynn smiles, she's right, she ought to enjoy every minute with Coriolanus rather than stressing about everything being perfect. "Thank you, we'll see you tonight."

Soarynn makes her way into the hallway and waits for the elevator, living in the penthouse is all fun and games until you're stuck waiting for the elevator. Coriolanus will probably remind her of a time when the elevator didn't work during the first war.

He's been doing a lot of that, reminding and remembering about what he went through the first time a war was brought to the Capitol's doorstep. Soarynn wonders if it's some sort of trauma response.

The elevator arrives with a ding and Soarynn steps into it, pressing the button to bring her to the lobby. She ends up being stopped on the eleventh floor where Mrs. Dolittle gets in, dragging her white, yappy dog with her. "Oh Mrs. Snow, don't you look lovely? Say hello to Mrs. Snow little Zeus," Mrs. Dolittle says to her dog Zeus who only barks at Soarynn.

"Thank you," Soarynn says to the older woman, "and hello Zeus, are you off for your afternoon walk?" Mrs. Dolittle hums and places a hand over her heart, "We're off to watch all of the troops come home, some of them are being brought in by trucks."

Soarynn's interest is piqued, "Trucks? Coriolanus is coming by train, I thought..." Her voice dies off and she begins to worry, has the schedule been changed? Is he not coming home today?

"Your husband will be coming by train because he's important dear," Mrs. Dolittle says before Soarynn can begin to spiral, "the rest of the troops are less important, or to put it plainly, less rich."

Oh.

Well, Soarynn can't argue with that.

"I see," is all she says before the doors open up to the lobby. "Enjoy your time with your husband dear," Mrs. Dolittle pats Soarynn's arm, "and if you have time, tell Coriolanus to pay us a visit so he can meet Zeus."

Soarynn knows for a fact that he won't have time or want to meet Zeuz but she smiles all the same and promises to do her best.

Soarynn walks out into the cold December air with a newfound energy inside of her. She's going to see her husband again, and for an entire week!

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn is giddy with excitement as she slides into the backseat of their car, "The train station please," she says, fishing her compact out of her handbag. She might as well check her reflection one more time, just in case something on her face changed from the elevator ride.

For their first wedding anniversary, Coriolanus gifted her a beautiful gold compact with a mirror and power inside. The power is her favorite scent, of course, vanilla. There's a beautiful rose engraved on the outside of the compact and even though they were apart on their anniversary, he still made the effort.

Soarynn applies a little more powder to her neck before glancing outside the car windows and she's astounded at how many people are milling around the train station.

"Looks like the whole Capitol's here," her driver remarks. Soarynn scans the crowd of eager faces, most of these people don't look like her, rich, but they might still be waiting for loved ones to arrive.

Her driver gets her all the way to the entrance of the station so she doesn't have to walk, "I'll wait right here Mrs. Snow," he assures her.

Soarynn nods and begins to make her way inside the train station. The glass pane ceilings let the natural light shine in and it's shaping up to be a beautiful day. The platform is even more crowded with hundreds of people pushing and shoving. Soarynn walks over to the schedule that's been posted on one of the ticket booths and scans one last time for her husband's train.

A Peacekeeper standing guard notices her, "Are you looking for a particular train Miss?" Soarynn shakes her head, offering him a polite smile, "I wouldn't want to trouble you, my husband is coming home today from District Five."

"Who's your husband?"

"Coriolanus Snow."

The Peacekeeper's eyes widen from hearing that name, that so very important name, "Allow me to escort you to the correct platform then Mrs. Snow."

Soarynn looks back over at all the people pushing and shoving, it does look very busy over there but she wouldn't want to impose. "I don't want to trouble you," she says sweetly, "I'm sure I can manage."

The Peacekeeper must not have a lot of faith in her, "I insist ma'am, please allow me to safely escort you." Soarynn jumps when she hears some shouting and looks back over to see that a fight has broken out on the platform, "Well if you insist," she quickly agrees.

The young man to his credit, gets Soarynn to the correct platform in one, safe piece, clearing a path for them the second people see his uniform. Platform Five is much quieter than the platform she just saw and Soarynn sighs, "This is much emptier," she notes.

The Peacekeeper chuckles, "Those other people don't know how to act, that's why they're all the way over there and you're all the way over here."

Before Soarynn can say anything else, the sharp whistle of an incoming train gains her attention. She looks around at the others waiting, mostly women like her, eagerly awaiting the arrival of their husbands. The train slowly pulls into the station, too slow in her opinion but she's excited all the same.

"How long has it been since you've seen him?"

"Two years," she answers, trying to look into the train windows, "two very long years."

It feels like a lifetime but she won't let that stop her from continuing to love him from afar. The train doors finally hiss open and several women rush forward in search of their loved ones. Soarynn being more shy and timid, stays back, looking for a head of blonde hair. It seems that all the men are dressed in their uniforms, donning their hats and coats, making it harder for Soarynn to see Coriolanus.

She watches several tearful reunions and can't help but wish for her own. More men spill out, some are greeted, some are not. Soarynn has heard the whispers about divorces left and right due to men being deployed. She can't imagine separating from Coriolanus because he's serving his country.

One man with tan skin steps off the train and he's looking directly at Soarynn, making her feel very self-conscious. He looks into the train and says something, pointing at her.

Soarynn stands up straight, her heart is pounding and there he is.

Coriolanus Snow is stepping off the train.

Soarynn is a woman who prides herself on following the unspoken rules of etiquette. No screaming, no shouting, no running in public or arguing.

She throws all those rules out the window the second he lays eyes on her. She breaks into a huge smile and runs towards him, not caring how improper it is.

Coriolanus doesn't seem to care either as he grins, opening his arms up. Soarynn shrieks and throws her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest, content to never let go of him again. Coriolanus wraps his strong arms around her and she can smell the roses, smell how manly he is, and how much she's missed him. Coriolanus groans and squeezes her tight, "There's my girl."

Soarynn might just cry.

She pulls away just enough to see his face, his handsome face. He looks the same as he left, prominent nose, beautiful blue eyes, full lips with a smile that still drives her crazy.

"I missed you," is the first thing she says.

He kisses her a second later, not wasting any time showing her how much he missed her as well. Soarynn sighs into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck even tighter to deepen the kiss. It feels so good, so good to have his lips on her again. She didn't realize how much she took this feeling for granted until he left.

Two years without a kiss good morning, goodbye or goodnight.

They're going to have to pry him away from her cold, dead hands when this week is up.

"Soarynn," he says against her lips, "I might have to take you with me when I go back because I can't go without this again." Soarynn laughs into the kiss, it looks like she's not the only one who's been lonely. When they finally break away from the kiss, his eyes meet hers and they hold so much love, so much devotion, the need and want to keep her safe no matter what.

"Look at you," he says softly, resting a gloved hand on her cheek, "still so beautiful and radiant. You look gorgeous darling, absolutely gorgeous, I pity the men who didn't get to come home to you today."

Soarynn giggles and rests her head on his chest, wanting to be as close to him as possible. She lets go of his neck and wraps her arms around his torso, he feels so strong under all these layers, "I missed you so much Coryo," she tells him, "thought about you every single day you were gone."

She feels him place a kiss on the top of her head, another thing she's missed, how affectionate he is with her. "You have me for an entire week," he tells her, his voice laced with authority and yet completely gentle and patient with her. Soarynn hums, closing her eyes so she can remember this moment for the rest of her life.

She's grateful that he doesn't pull away, force her to move because she really doesn't want to. She wishes she could freeze time so they could stay like this forever.

"You weren't lying Snow," someone says, causing Soarynn to lift her head. It's the same man who was looking at her when he stepped off the train, "I told you she's beautiful," Coriolanus replies, kissing her temple. Soarynn feels herself blushing, she hadn't even thought about Coriolanus bragging to his comrades about her but it sounded exactly like something he'd do.

Coriolanus is a proud man, proud of his family, proud of his success, and proud to have secured a fitting match such as Soarynn. He's never shied away from boasting about her beauty, her charm, and femininity. Of course, he'd talk about her to his comrades, show off her pictures proudly.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," the man waves before walking down to the exit. Soarynn looks up at her husband, "Who was that?"

While Soarynn's letters to Coriolanus have included all the latest gossip and news, his have been more about how much he misses her and hopes for her safety at all times. Rarely has he mentioned anyone he's worked with.

"Lance Parkes," Coriolanus tells her, "we're in the same barrack."

Soarynn hums, she'll have to ask him about all his friends although she'll meet most of them tomorrow night. "How was the train ride?"

Coriolanus rubs her side, "It was fine, quite long but we were in first class so it was much more bearable."

Soarynn slips a hand under his coat, feeling the rest of his uniform, "You feel so strong, and you look so very smart in the uniform," she tells him, earning her a pleased grin. "Strong hmm?" He teases, making her giggle, "I should've known you'd ogle me the first chance you got."

Soarynn gasps, playfully shoving his chest, "Oh, please, you're the one who likes to ogle." He really is, Soarynn is more likely to silently admire her husband whereas he isn't afraid to make her put on a show for him.

Whenever they go shopping he has her come out and show him every outfit, praising her sense of fashion. And whenever she comes home with some new lingerie, well...she gives him a more private show.

"Well now that you've mentioned it, let me get a proper look at you," he says, loosening his grip on her, "give me a spin darling." Soarynn glances around the now barren platform, apparently, their reunion was longer than everyone else's so she doesn't feel too silly spinning around. Coriolanus lets out a low whistle and nods, looking her up and down, "You've got the type of beauty men go to war for," he tells her matter-of-factly.

Soarynn merely shakes her head, she wouldn't want to be the cause for any man to go to war, let alone her husband. "Where's your trunk?' She asks, changing the subject to something not about her. Coriolanus turns and points at the one trunk that's left, "I've come bearing gifts," he tells her, causing Soarynn's lips to curl up into a smile, "You don't say."

Coriolanus hums, reaching a hand out for her and she gladly takes it, "I've thought about you every single day," he continues, "thought about what you were doing, if you were feeling alright, if you needed anything." Soarynn's heart might just shatter into a million pieces, Coriolanus has been on her mind constantly but she always wondered if she was on his.

She squeezes his hand, smiling up at him, "Well we have a whole week together, so let's make the most of it."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn has forgotten how attractive Coriolanus is.

For once, the roles are reversed and he is doing the shopping while she lounges on a sofa and sips champagne. He stands on a small pedestal, looking at his reflection in the store's mirrors that show him every angle.

He had written once or twice about outgrowing some of his clothing which confused Soarynn since he was too old to grow taller. But now, she gets it.

He's bigger. Stronger. More muscular.

His shirts don't fit the way they used to.

He looks very handsome in what the salesman selected for him, black pants, perfectly tailored, and a simple white button-up tucked into the pants. They're shopping for a new suit for him to wear to the dinner tomorrow night but finding a shirt to properly fit him has posed a challenge.

The salesman presses his lips into a thin line when he sees the buttons threatening to pop off, "Still too tight?"

Coriolanus offers him a polite smile, "Just a bit."

The salesman waves his hand, "An extra-large then, I'll have someone bring you the proper size."

Soarynn resists the urge to jump off the sofa and run into the changing room with her husband, it would be quite scandalous, and also bad manners.

"Where has he been all this time?" The salesman asks, raising an eyebrow, "I see hundreds of men every day in here but he must've been hiding under a rock." Soarynn chuckles, she doesn't mind when women or men flirt with her husband or talk about him in front of her, at the end of the day, she gets to go home with him.

"He's been deployed," she answers, setting her glass down on the small table, "he's back for a week and he's in desperate need of clothing that actually fits him."

"Well, I can see that, he's doubled in size from the looks of it, let me go look for a few more shirts."

Soarynn looks around the store while she waits, watching people come and go, everyone is doing last-minute shopping but she did hers weeks ago. Then she got that letter from Coriolanus and her entire world turned upside down. She had been so excited, she cried tears of joy, her husband was coming back to her.

For a week but still.

A few minutes later, Coriolanus walks out with a shirt that fits him properly and that cocky grin she's grown to love over the years, "What do you think darling?" He asks, holding out his arms while giving her a slow spin, "Do we have our base layer down?"

Soarynn does her best to remain appropriate when looking him up and down but it's very hard, especially with his big hands, and his big arms, and thighs and...she's getting distracted.

"I think we do," she answers with an encouraging smile. Coriolanus nods, "Perfect, let's move on to suit jackets then."

꧁ ꧂

Two hours later, Soarynn is strolling down the street with her husband and two large shopping bags.

"He was a good salesman," Coriolanus says, pulling her a little closer, "although I do believe he was flirting with me." Soarynn laughs, Coriolanus is as charming as they come but he's always had a hard time deciphering when the same gender flirts with him. Women he can pick up on in seconds, but men confuse him greatly.

Soarynn simply sees it as a compliment if both genders find you equally attractive.

"He was definitely flirting with you," she tells him, looking into a few shop windows, "you've got a new look and people are bound to notice."

Soarynn nearly trips when she sees the perfect little black dress in a boutique window. It's strapless and somewhat short but she knows that with the right heels, she can pull it off. One look at Coriolanus and she can tell that he's already picturing pulling it off of her.

"Why don't we go in here?" He suggests, his voice slightly hoarse. Soarynn wraps her hand around his arm and pulls them towards the door, "If you insist."

They're immediately greeted by an eager-looking saleswoman who has bright red hair and very long eyelashes, "Welcome, welcome! What brings you two in today?"

Coriolanus nods towards the mannequin wearing the black dress, "The black dress in the window would look stunning on my wife."

Soarynn doesn't even have time to blush because this saleswoman is grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the fitting rooms, "Of course, it would! You just go right back here dear and I'll bring you a few sizes."

Soarynn finds herself mindlessly nodding to whatever this woman says and walks into the first fitting room she sees. She doesn't even wait an entire minute before there's a knock on the door. She opens it to find the saleswoman holding three black dresses, "I brought a few sizes, although this one will probably fit you best."

Soarynn takes the hanger into her hands and nods, "Thank you very much." Part of her worries that this woman might try to come in and help her so she quickly shuts the door. Soarynn takes a deep breath before taking off her own clothes and neatly hanging them on the hooks in the fitting room. She steps into the dress and pulls it over her hips.

It would look great if she could get the zipper up.

"How's it going in there?"

Soarynn grits her teeth while fighting to pull the zipper all the way up, "Fine!" She calls back, using one hand to balance herself against the wall, "If you need any help just let me know!"

Soarynn almost falls over, "That won't be necessary!"

Three minutes later, she's sweaty and has the damn dress on.

But it does look very good on her.

Soarynn opens the door and peeks her head out, the coast is clear. She can hear the saleswoman yammering away outside, talking her husband's ear off. "...and that's when I knew gluten wasn't good for me and...oh! Oh, you look fabulous dear!"

Soarynn brushes her hair behind her ears, she isn't very fond of being the center of attention but neither Coriolanus nor the saleswomen can keep their eyes off of her as she steps in front of the mirror.

She can see Coriolanus watching her, a longing, lustful look in his eyes and she feels a boost of confidence, "You have the legs for that dress," the saleswoman tells her, "doesn't she Mr. Snow?"

Coriolanus grunts, fidgeting in his seat, "She certainly does."

Soarynn does a quick twirl and she smiles, "I'll take it." The saleswoman claps, delighted to do some business on such a busy day, "Wonderful! As soon as you take it off, I'll ring it up for you!"

Soarynn turns to go back to the fitting rooms but Coriolanus is quickly rising from his seat, "Let me help you with the zipper darling, she mentioned it might be tricky." Soarynn knows what he really wants and he could care less about the zipper, "Alright," she says sweetly.

They both walk back to her fitting room and he's on top of her the second she closes the door. Soarynn gasps when he pins her against the wall, his lips latch onto her neck, "Coryo," she gasps, "we're in a boutique!" Coriolanus scoffs and squeezes her waist, "I don't give a fuck darling, now turn around and bend over like the good girl you always are for me."

Soarynn would be lying if she said those words didn't do something to her. Something to her body that's gone two years without him. His touch, his lips, his hands, his cock.

She turns around.

Coriolanus bends her over and she braces her hands against the wall, "Coryo we have to be fast," she urgently whispers, not wanting to get caught. Mostly because she really wants this dress. Coriolanus chuckles and kisses right under her ear, "I'm just having a little fun darling."

He expertly unzips the dress and slides it off her body, letting it pool around her ankles and he palms her ass, groaning, "Fuck I missed you," he says, "missed this perfect little ass, your pretty little moans, how soft you are. You don't realize how bad it is out there for us darling, no women, surrounded by District scum, only our hands for a quick release."

Soarynn whimpers when he pulls her panties to the side, his fingers graze her clit and she bucks into his touch. She hasn't been faring but better in the sexual pleasure department but she has her ways, the shower head, her fingers, she's made it work.

But nothing is better than the real thing.

A knock on the door startles her, "Is everything alright in there dear?"

Coriolanus sinks two fingers into her cunt and Soarynn can feel her eyes rolling back. It's such a delicious burn after not having sex for so long and she might just cum right now, "Fine," she stammers, "it's, it's fine, I'm fine."

"Could you just toss the dress over the door then?"

Coriolanus reaches for the dress and Soarynn lifts her feet so he can grab it from the floor. He starts pumping his fingers in and out of her cunt and her knees buckle. Coriolanus catches her, holding her against the wall, "Be quiet for me hmm?" He says in her ear, his voice husky. Soarynn nods, biting her lip.

Coriolanus tosses the dress over the door and starts pumping faster and faster. Soarynn's toes are curling, her breaths are ragged. She's going to cum, very, very soon if he doesn't stop what he's doing. "Please," she mumbles, "please, please Coryo."

He peppers the back of her shoulder with kisses, so gentle in comparison to his fingers slamming in and out of her, "Still so good for me huh? Still remember your manners." Soarynn whines when his thumb presses against her clit, she cannot have an orgasm in a boutique fitting room.

Right?

Her walls start fluttering, her body starts shaking and the wire inside of her is about to snap, "Give it to me," he orders, "be my good girl and cum all over my fingers like the little slut you are for me Soarynn."

That's all it takes for her to fall apart. She lets out a moan but he quickly slaps his other hand over her mouth, muffling any noise she makes. Soarynn twitches as her orgasm rides out, it's so intense, so good after so long. She can feel the stickiness between her legs, she doesn't know how she's going to walk out of her but Coriolanus has already thought this through apparently.

He brandishes a handkerchief from his coat pocket a second later and makes quick work of cleaning her up to the best of his abilities. Her legs are still shaking, how she'll be able to look that saleswoman in the eye is beyond her. "You didn't, didn't get to..." Her voice dies off when she sees Coriolanus shaking his head, a sweet smile on his lips, "If I'm going to fuck you, then I'm going to do it properly," he tells her, "and in the comfort of my own home."

Soarynn lets him place a kiss on her forehead before he leaves to go pay for the dress. She puts her own clothes back on quickly so she doesn't raise any suspicion and joins Coriolanus a few minutes later at the counter near the front of the store.

Apparently, he's revealed that he's visiting for the week because the saleswoman has her hand over her heart, "...just the noblest thing a man could do for his country," she says, her eyes drifting over to Soarynn, "and leaving your wife behind? You're a national hero Mr. Snow."

Soarynn keeps herself from rolling her eyes, Coriolanus certainly has done a great service to his country, but being called a national hero is a bit of a stretch. Coriolanus, of course, loves it and grins, taking the pink bag off the counter, "You flatter me truly, thank you so much for your help today." Soarynn nods along to his words and wraps her hand around his arm, "Yes, thank you so much for your assistance."

"Of course! Stop by anytime."

They bid the saleswoman goodbye and step back out into the cold, Soarynn immediately curls into Coriolanus who doesn't despise the cold the way she does. Maybe it's because of his last name, but the cold has little to no effect on Coriolanus whereas Soarynn hates it with all her might.

"You should wear that dress to dinner tomorrow night," he says, leading them across the street. Soarynn gives him a skeptical look, "To a dinner honoring dead soldiers? I don't think so. Besides, I already have a dress picked out for tomorrow night." And she does, it's navy blue and makes her eyes pop. He'll love it because he loves everything she wears.

Coriolanus simply hums and holds her tighter, "Whatever you want darling."

Soarynn cherishes those words for she won't be hearing them in a few days. She ought to cherish every moment with Coriolanus while he's here, every single second is precious.

꧁ ꧂

Later that night, Soarynn finds herself in a most domestic position, curled up in her husband's arms, naked under their sheets. She used to dream about moments like this, hoping she'd wake up to find him next to her, only to wake up to an empty bed.

His breathing is slow and steady, instantly calming her after a long night of passionate sex. Coriolanus could barely keep his hands to himself for the rest of the day after their little stunt in the dressing room. They still had to go to several stores and then to dinner before they could come home.

Coriolanus was more than pleased to be warmly welcomed by his household staff and a clean apartment. He wasn't however, too pleased when he discovered Petunia lounging on his side of the bed, surprised to see a man in the room she thought of as her own.

There was a clear rivalry the moment they laid eyes on each other, especially when she saw how handsy he was being with Soarynn. She had hissed and swatted at him while Soarynn tried to calm her down and fix the rift between her beloved husband and cat.

She ended up removing Petunia from their bedroom so they could properly reunite and after several rounds of passionate sex, Soarynn was more than pleased with how the day turned out.

Coriolanus presses a hand on her stomach, splaying out his long fingers, "I was thinking," he mumbles in her ear, voice laced with sleep, "we should have a baby."

That gets her wide awake. Soarynn pushes her hips against his, causing him to groan since he has yet to pull out, "A baby?" She whispers, thinking about the possibility of finally starting a family with Coriolanus. They barely had any time after they got married, war broke out and he was shipped out.

It's not like they didn't want a family, the penthouse is huge with so many empty bedrooms. Her mind drifts down the hall to the nearest bedroom, vacant and begging to have a crib inside of it. He kisses right under her ear and hums, resting his chin on her shoulder, "Mhm, if it weren't for the war then I'm sure we'd have at least one child by now. And I've heard rumors Soarynn, they're starting to pull troops out little by little. I'll be home before you know it, and for good next time."

Soarynn's heart is beating so fast, the war is ending?

Part of her doesn't want to believe him, but Coriolanus isn't one to lie, he hates lying and anyone who does it. "Okay," she says, finding nothing wrong with his proposition. He's right, if Coriolanus wasn't deployed then they'd certainly already have a child right now. These past two years have set them back and she's not getting any younger.

He wraps his arms around her tighter and groans, "Good, because I'm convinced that I already fucked a baby into you."

They both laugh, knowing it doesn't exactly work that way but she's past caring about logistics right now.

Her husband is home and that's all that matters.

꧁ ꧂

Much to Soarynn's dismay, the next few days flew by in the blink of an eye.

She and Coriolanus spent every waking minute with each other, from the moment they woke up to the moment they went to bed, they were together. Their friends had teased them about it at dinner one night, how inseparable the pair was but Soarynn found nothing wrong with it.

She and Coriolanus belonged with each other. How could they not see it?

Even now as he opens a present from under the Christmas tree, it's so evident to Soarynn that he's the one for her. His strong masculine aura mixes perfectly with her gentle feminine one. While he's effortlessly charming, she's endlessly graceful, making them the perfect pair once again.

Coriolanus grins when he pulls out several pairs of white socks, the ones he's always been so fond of since Soarynn met him. He's always been one to value routine and tradition, never straying from what he trusts which includes socks. "You remembered my letter," he says with a laugh, setting them down on the floor next to him.

Soarynn nods, in one of his more recent letters, Coriolanus had mentioned how worn out his socks were becoming. Soarynn was no stranger to sending him letters but packages were a little bit trickier. They required an outrageous amount of postage to start, and there was never a guarantee that it would actually be delivered. She's sent a few over the past two years and according to Coriolanus, he's one of the only men who receives both packages and letters from home.

Soarynn truly can't imagine not writing letters to a loved one who's away at war. She writes him a letter nearly every day.

"I did," she agrees, "once I knew you were coming home, I ran out to buy you some new ones."

They both sit in comfortable silence while snow quietly falls outside of the living room windows. Soarynn watches the tiny snowflakes fall from the sky, doing her best to think about anything but what tomorrow will bring.

The train that will take him away from her again.

She can't help but begin to fear the worst, Coriolanus getting caught in the crossfire, a bomb going off and taking his limbs off, a trap being set just for him.

Which is highly unlikely from what he's told her. He's barely seen any real action, just a lot of angry people who he has to keep under control with a gun. When Soarynn asked if he ever had to use it on anyone, he'd gone quiet. This war still affected him despite him acting like it didn't. And Soarynn doesn't want him to go back to it.

She can feel the tears forming in her eyes, they've had such a lovely week filled with dinners, parties, and quality time together.

She doesn't want it to end.

"Darling," he says gently, "come here."

Coriolanus opens his arms out to her and Soarynn sniffles as she crawls over crinkled wrapping paper until she's crawling into his lap, burying her face in his neck. He immediately slips his hands under her nightgown and wraps his arms around her waist, holding her tight, "We'll be alright," he tells her softly, "I'll be back before you know it, and then we'll start our own little family. How does that sound?"

It sounds wonderful, like a dream come true to Soarynn who's been so lonely the past two years.

"Nice," is all she mumbles, not able to find it inside of her to act chipper when she's not. Coriolanus rubs his hand up and down her back, calming her with the smallest of touches, "I hope you know how much I miss you," he tells her, "how every night I stare up at the ceiling and wish you were there with me. You're all I have Soarynn, you've been the greatest gift."

Tears freely flow down her cheeks after hearing those endearing words. She doesn't know if this conversation is making his departure easier or worse. "I love you," she whispers, "with all my heart I love you."

She doesn't know how long they stay like that, curled up on the floor but it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters when she's with him.

꧁ ꧂

The morning of her husband's departure comes with heavy burdens for both of them.

Coriolanus, who must face what lies in the Districts once again, alone and without the comforts of home.

Soarynn, who must return to normal life with a smile on her face, and without the comforts of him.

They both fake it incredibly well to their credit, smiling at those they pass by as they walk towards his train. Just a week ago Soarynn was getting ready to come to the station, putting so much effort into her appearance. She barely even brushed her hair this morning since she planned on running right back home once he left to cry in bed.

Coriolanus hands off his trunk to a train attendant and Soarynn watches the man carry it onto the train, already stealing parts of Coriolanus away from her. She looks around the platform and is somewhat comforted by the sight of many other couples sharing tearful goodbyes.

At least they can all be miserable together is what she's concluded.

"Keep writing to me hmm?" He asks, nosing her cheek in an effort to make her laugh. Soarynn nods but can't find it in herself to laugh like she usually does when he's being so sweet, "You'll let me know if you hear anything else about deployment right?" She inquires for the tenth time today. She knows it must be getting annoying but she simply must know that he'll keep her updated with these things.

Coriolanus nods and rests his forehead against her own, "Yes darling, the second I know for sure I'm coming home, I'll let you know."

She rests her hands on his arms, feeling him one last time, "I'm going to miss you," she mumbles, her voice carries more of a tremor than she'd like but it's hard to act brave right now. Coriolanus leans down and kisses her, so sweetly and gently. Soarynn returns the kiss with her own gentleness for this will be the last kiss she's given for a long time.

"Be careful out there," she whispers, not pulling away from the kiss, "I can't go on without you Coryo."

He wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her into his safe hold, "I will," he promises, pecking her lips once more, "and you take care of yourself hmm? I want you to enjoy yourself while I'm gone darling, spend time with friends, spend my money, all those nice things hmm?" A small smile forms on her lips and Coriolanus chuckles, "There's my girl, always smiling for me."

She knows this is hard on him too, to leave her, to willingly leave her behind goes against everything Coriolanus believes in.

But they'll be together again soon, she's sure of it.

The sharp train whistle pulls the couple apart, announcing that the train will be departing soon.

"Make sure to call me," Soarynn reminds him, clinging onto him for dear life, "and to write to me. And let me know if you need me to send you anythi-"

She never finishes her sentence due to his lips crashing onto her again, effectively shutting her up. Soarynn responds the way she always does, loyally and lovingly, letting him take the lead. Coriolanus brings his hand to gently cup her face while they share one last kiss.

Another sharp whistle from the train jolts both of them and they finally break apart from their last kiss.

"I love you," he tells her, looking down at her with those devoted blue eyes of his. So piercing yet soft and gentle when he's with her and only her.

"I love you too," she says, "and I'm so proud of you."

Coriolanus smiles, hugging her one more time and kissing her temple before he lets her go. Soarynn remains frozen on the platform while her husband strides towards the train, stepping through the door right before the train starts pulling away.

Soarynn waves goodbye with the other wives, with only eyes for her husband who watches her from the door. It's only when he's out of sight that she allows herself to properly cry.

She ignores the sympathetic looks she's given from the other women and trudges back to the car, alone this time.

She cries the whole way home and in the elevator. Maria seems greatly concerned but Soarynn waves her off, she'll be fine in a few days, she remembers being like this the first time he left. Part of her wishes she didn't have to go through this again, that he never came home but she's so glad she got to see Coriolanus again.

Petunia is still lying in bed where they left her this morning, pleased to have her spot back. Soarynn gives her a gentle scratch behind the ears, "Just you and me again," she says sadly. She ought to wash the sheets considering they had sex every night but she refrains from doing so, she'll wash them when his scent is no longer detectable.

Soarynn lies in bed for hours feeling sorry for herself and missing her husband, only venturing into their bathroom when she needs to use it. She walks past the countertops and then her vanity when she notices a small white box sitting on her vanity counter, wrapped in a red bow.

Soarynn reluctantly picks it up and unties the ribbon, letting it all to the floor where Petunia immediately takes it to play with. But Soarynn pays her cat no mind as she opens up the box, softly gasping when she sees what Coriolanus has left for her.

A pregnancy test.

And a note.

Never too soon to find out. Love, Coriolanus

Soarynn chuckles, they both know it's highly unlikely for her to already be pregnant but she appreciates the gesture. She holds the testing device in her fingers, "Might as well try," she mumbles to herself, walking to the small room where their toilet is.

It only takes a few minutes but Soarynn finds herself doing anything but looking at the results. She folds some laundry, fluffs out their bedsheets. Finally, she walks back into the bathroom and turns over the test.

She gasps when she sees two red lines.

She's pregnant.

Newly pregnant, barely pregnant, but pregnant.

She can't believe it. Coriolanus isn't even halfway through his trip back to Five and yet he's left her with a most precious gift. Soarynn rests her hand on her stomach, imagining what it'll look like in a few months.

She's pregnant!

She's going to have a baby. She's going to be a mother, he's going to be a father.

Oh, Coriolanus.

She'll have to write to him at once to deliver the news. She's only a few days along but still.

It's a Christmas miracle.

꧁ ꧂

To my dearest Coriolanus, I'm writing this hours after your departure. I simply cannot wait a moment longer to tell you the wonderful news that I'm pregnant! I know we spoke of it when you first came home but after opening the gift you left me, I'm proud to say that you're going to be a father. I will keep things quiet until I can visit the doctor but I just had to tell you. I miss you with all my heart my love, I pray for your safety and your quick return. Know that not a day goes by where I do not think of you my heart for you are all that I am. I love & miss you already. Love, Soarynn

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @strawberriicakes @wonderlandbound111 @villiansarehottest @kickmybark @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @melodyoflovee @erensrealgf |

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hisui-dreamer · 2 years ago

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aaaaah my heart died of tenderness with rook's hdcns with lipstick buuut now I beg you plss ;u; I need one the same but with vil schoenheit plsss ksjsks I also want to fill vil's face with kisses (/ u \)

the queen's markings

Pairing: Vil Schoenheit x gn!reader

Synopsis: he wouldn't lose a competition in something he's an expert in, but it's more fun than he expected

Tags: established relationship, kissing, lipstick marks, crack, bot proofread

Word count: 491

Notes: happy birthday @v-anrouge! i hope this vil fluff brightens your day aster, thank you for always bringing fun energy into my feed hahaha (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ

rook's part here!✧Masterlist

The rules are simple: you would take turns with a one-minute timeframe to shower the other with kisses and leave lipstick marks behind. The one who leaves the most marks by the end of the game would win.

really??? that's such a messy idea?? and you're just making a mess that you'll have to clean up later

if you wanted to kiss him, you should've just said so ;)

Vil doesn't really get the appeal when you tell him the idea

but once he agrees, as with everything, he's very meticulous about it, deliberately choosing the perfect lipstick that would transfer well and match your skin tone

he wears makeup so often, he's basically an expert in the transferability and durability of makeup

only usually he's trying not to get his lipstick smeared

but when it's your turn, he can't deny he enjoys having you place kiss after kiss on him

though the stickiness of the lipstick is a bit messy, he loves the warmth of your breath against his skin, accompanied by the gentle touch of their lips

there's a proud smile on his face as you litter his face with kisses

surprisingly, the game is really relaxing, although he could really do without the messiness

when it's his turn, his posture straightens slightly while he scans your face to see where to start with each delicate touch of his lips, he strategically places precise and vibrant lipstick marks, ensuring maximum impact and coverage

he pays attention to every detail, from the angle of his kisses to the intensity of his affection

he moves swiftly, yet with calculated precision, ensuring that no spot on your face is left untouched

aaand ding ding! when times up, he steps back a bit, his chest rising and falling with a mixture of excitement and satisfaction as he admires your flushed face

he shouldn't find it attractive really, it's messy and sticky and gosh he hopes it doesn't leave a stain, but he can't deny how satisfied he feels having so thoroughly marked you, and how alluring you look in the moment

the two of you definitely take pictures together to commemorate

he's never going to show anyone this picture, he's the only one who can see how beautiful you are

he's very likely to win, he knows the ins and outs of his makeup, so he definitely has an advantage there

okay, it's cleansing time

if you clean your face properly, he'll pamper you with a little skin care/spa session

"Darling, if you desired my kisses, a direct request would have sufficed," Vil smiles teasingly, tilting your cheek upwards. "I suppose I can partake in this game, but I don't quite understand the appeal."

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight of you covered in his meticulously placed lipstick marks, a mix of pride and affection evident in his expression. "Ah, my dear, you wear my affection so well," Vil murmurs, his voice infused with a sense of satisfaction.

"Now, it is imperative that we clean up properly. It is essential in maintaining the health and radiance of our skin," he says, his voice carrying an air of authority. "Come, I prepared some face masks for us to enjoy."

rook's part here!✧Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland vil #vil schoenheit #twst vil #vil schoenheit x reader

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ysljoon · 1 year ago

Text

john price dad headcannons

wc: 1.3k warnings: fluff, angst, feelings of abandonment, found family trope, afab reader, inaccurate descriptions of adoption, tf141 cameo a/n: i have been going thorugh it ya'll and i just needed something self indulgent, but pt 2 for roommate konig is coming soon! MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

Price knew he wanted to be a dad from his early twenties, but he felt like a partner was off the table due to his line of work

He was so wary of adoption because if a partner wasn’t an option for him how would he feel about abandoning a child???

Nonetheless Price knew what he wanted in life and a child was all he needed and more

He started the adoption process once he turned 30

Oh man when he saw you for the first time he knew in his heart that he would give you the world! You had that man wrapped around your little finger before you even knew it

You had been in the foster system since you were 4 years old and you had just turned 10 around the time the time that Price was interested in adopting

Needless to say it was more and more disheartening as the years went on and nobody was interested in making you part of their family especially since you were now on the older side

The day that Price had come in and the social work case manager had come in to tell you that the man wanted to see you, oh your heart was beating a 100 miles a minute trying to culminate the best strategy to make the best first impression

The social case work manager left you two alone to get comfortable and feel out how the two of you would get along

Price is embarrassed to this day about how nervous he was to talk to a 10 year old LMAO he was sweating

You guys got along great in no time and there were wholesome laughs for the whole hour

Right before he left he gave you a pat on your head and said “I’m coming right back for you sweetheart, just you wait.”

And man did you wait

Two months to be exact and it was a devastating feeling

You felt abandoned again and it hurt even more since you thought you really found a forever home

Once he finally did come back you just couldn’t hold back the tears and you wrapped your arms around his torso and refused to let go until the social worker has to pry you off so Price could proceed with the paperwork

Two weeks after that is when you officially moved into his home and you were vibrating with excitement in the backseat the whole car ride

He scooped you up from the backseat and piggybacked you into the home and your eyes were glimmering both from tears and from how happy you were to have a place called home

Price commemorated your first day home with a selfie of you two make silly faces and his bucket hat placed on your head that was much too big on you

He printed that picture immediately to put it on the fridge

Price was a superstellar dad for you

(You were a little bit spoiled, but Price would never admit to that)

He would watch youtube videos on how to do different hairstyles for you, he tried to attend all your sports competitions, and was there for your first orchestra recital!

The first time you properly called him dad instead of John was when he came to see your flute solo that you had in your sixth grade winter concert

Once you were done you frantically left backstage to look for him and he snuck up behind you to pick you up into a bear hug

He brought a bouquet of flowers for you and placed a kiss on the top of your head

“I’m so proud of you sweetheart.” Oh man did that open the floodgates for you

You hugged him so tight and it was muffled into his shirt but Price would hear it as clear as day: “I love you so much dad. Thanks for everything.”

The both you were sniveling messes the whole way home that night

Though when he did miss your school and extracurricular events there was always stung a bit more than you would care to admit

He would always apologize to you about his work duties and then leave you in the care of a trusted, live-in babysitter

It got even more annoying as you got older because he was very secretive about his job and never disclosed anything he did and you just wanted to know something

What does he do that makes him gone for weeks to MONTHS at a time???

The first time you met Task Force 141 was an accident and it was when you were 16

You were home after school hanging out with Price watching movies and was waiting for pizza to come

Once he heard the knock on the door he went to go get it, but he was taking a lot longer than expected and your stomach was starting to hurt from how hungry you were

“Dad, what's taking so long with the pizza?”

You reached the foyer and saw three very large men standing at the door and one of them was wearing a mask (???)

“Who are these people, dad? Am I Interrupting something?” You had a very weary eye on them and took a step back

They all looked at you then each other with the widest eyes and Price just stood there letting out the biggest sigh

“Boys, this is my daughter. Sweetheart this is Gaz, Ghost, and Soap.”

Oh these people were weird

The two unmasked ones were grinning at you and the masked one was looking at you with such a scrutinizing look and it made you squirm

You quickly made it over to your dad and got on your tippy toes to whisper something in his ear

“Dad, you have weird friends. I don’t like them at all.” He let out a cough that you’re pretty sure was used to cover up a laugh

“They’re also my…coworkers.”

This made you raise your eyebrow out of curiosity

“I see…so what is it that you guys do?”

The one with the mohawk was about to speak until Price told you to wait in your room until him and his coworkers were done speaking

You sighed and locked yourself upstairs

“Mates, I want not a single word uttered about this in the slightest.” He pointed a firm finger at each of the men

“What’s the lassie’s name at least?”

“Y/N, Mactavish now leave it alone!”

Needless to say Soap nor the rest of the 141 left it alone and you practically became their little sister

They watched you grow up and were there for the night of your prom

They scared the piss out of your date and you got so angry

Your dad escorted them all inside to let you have privacy with your date

Price mostly rushed inside because he was about to start tearing up and he didn't want you to see him cry

They were there at your high school graduation too and you have a framed picture on your desk of all of them with big smiles holding you close with your diploma in hand

Now that you're in college it’s a lot harder to be away from them and especially your dad and there are nights where you just stare at the ceiling and clutch the stuffed teddy bear Price got you when you were younger and just look forward to when you’ll see them again

They try and make visits at least once every 2-3 months and it’s never boring whenever they come

Gaz and Soap try and gossip with you about any new boys you’ve met in college and Price likes to act uninterested but you know he has his ear angled in the direction of all three of you to see what you say

No matter the distance you know you have your forever family and they are your home no matter where you are or where they are.

#john price x reader #john price fluff #cod headcanons #john price x you #john price #captain john price #price x reader #price x you #call of duty x reader #tf 141 #price headcanons #captain price x female reader #cod mw2

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jujumin-translates · 1 year ago

Text

Event | Act 3.5 Event - NEW ERA GARDEN | Chapter 7

*Contains spoilers for Act 12 - eternal moment*

Yukio: Everyone looks so cool.

Costume Manager: The fit seems fine too.

Syu: Yeah. Thanks for gettin’ this all pulled together in such a short amount of time.

Costume Manager: No, no, it’s nothing! It’s not every day I get an opportunity to do something like this, so I’m honored!

Yuzo: I’m used to wearin’ Japanese-style clothes, but the Shinsengumi’s haoris still feel too youthful.

Kasumi: Let’s take a commemorative photo together!

Hiro: You’re putting that on the web version of “Spotlight,” aren’t you?

Kasumi: Ehe, how’d you know?

Yukio: How about striking a pose and saying “Go, Shinsengumi!”?

Kasumi: Join us, Yukio-san!

Yukio: Eh, me too?

Costume Manager: If that’s the case, I have a spare dandara haori, so why don’t you put one on too, Yukio-san?

Syu: Sounds like a great idea.

Zen: Who’s Yukio playing?

Yuzo: Yamanami-san maybe?

Yukio: But I’m not an actor--.

Reni: …

Yukio: Umm… I just won’t do it! It’d be like having a tourist in the mix!

Yukio: Just go ahead and take the picture!

Zen: …

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Yukio: Well then, let’s end rehearsal here today. You can all put your costumes away and head home now.

Yuzo: Good work today.

Kasumi: Good work, everyone!

Zen: Nice work.

Yukio: Ah, Zen-san.

Zen: Hm?

Yukio: It’s your turn for a one-on-one interview, Zen-san.

Zen: Oh, gotcha.

Yukio: Should we go to the usual bar?

Zen: Let me decide where we go.

Yukio: That’s fine, where do you want to go?

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Zen: Here you are.

Yukio: Stew…!?

Zen: It’s been a while since I’ve made somethin’ like this for you.

Zen: The recipe is the latest version of the one that I’ve been workin’ on since you nagged me about it back then.

Yukio: Zen-san…! I never thought I’d be able to eat this again! I can’t wait!

Zen: …

Zen: (It was really hard to come up with this recipe.)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

That day, for the umpteenth time, we met to review the stew before dinner.

“How is it?”

When I asked that, Yukio smiled as he sat alone in the dining room, eating the stew.

“…It’s really good. But… I think it could use a little more white wine and maybe some more miso. Maybe a little less butter too. But just a bit!”

“…Got a long list of demands for your stew, as usual.”

“Ehehe.”

“I’ll try that recipe next month.”

I sighed as Yukio held out his empty plate.

“Seconds, please!”

“You literally just had lunch. This is what I’m makin’ for dinner.”

Yukio pouts, insisting I was only doing that because of what he said.

“C’mon, just a little bit? We can have some together, Zen-san.”

“Fine, but just a bit.”

I ended up putting some more stew on Yukio’s plate and put some on my own before sitting down with him.

“It’s better to have a meal with someone else, after all.”

“Doesn’t matter if you eat with me, it’s boring either way.”

Yukio smiles at me while I silently return to eating my food.

“That’s not true. Generally speaking, you want to eat with other people, don’t you, Zen-san?”

“You sayin’ I’m a loner?”

“Yeah. I’m with you, so I guess I kind of get what you mean. The MANKAI dorms were built because I wanted a place where all the troupe members could live together like a family.”

Yukio looked right at me as he said that.

“People like you should create a ‘place’ like that for yourselves someday, Zen-san.”

“A place?”

“Yes. This place I created is unique. I’m forever grateful for the precious time you all share in my life.”

I was a little surprised that Yukio would think about such an admirable thing, given the way he was always pushing everyone.

“The only way lonely people like us can be at peace is by making a place for ourselves!”

“…I ain’t like you.”

“Ehhh, I think we’re pretty alike.”

Despite my denial, Yukio’s opinion got some nods of approval.

But being lonely just doesn’t match with me.

No one else thinks of me like that.

Yukio is a strange man. He so easily opens up and shows what he’s feeling inside without even realizing it.

Despite having been betrayed before, I’ve been tempted to rekindle the bonds with the others that I never thought I’d want again, since joining this theater company.

I guess Yukio is right, maybe I am a lonely person after all.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Yukio: …Snf.

Zen: Old age makin’ you weepy?

Yukio: …This taste never gets old.

Yukio: You’ve had the love of my stomach ever since the day we met, Zen-san. The fried rice from back then was good too.

Zen: Oh, that store went outta business.

Yukio: Eeh!? Really!? I had no idea… That’s shocking.

Zen: The owner seemed happy at the closing party because a lotta the former staff was there, me included.

Yukio: I see. So you didn’t end up missing it in the end. You used to get so mad while you were working there part-time…

Zen: …You’re a lonely guy, too, but you’ve done well enough on your own for so long.

Yukio: By the way, it’d be a shame if this long-awaited stew were any saliter…

Zen: Don’t cry into the stew. It’s gross…

Yukio: Ehehe. Even back then I was making a place for myself, you know. I thought I was doing okay, but…

Yukio: When I was allowed to come back to Japan, I was thinking about what I’d even do when I got back.

Yukio: I realized that the first generation MANKAI Company was really the best place I had in my life.

Zen: That why you’re afraid of fightin’ with Reni?

Yukio: --Ah, yeah.

Yukio: …I’m kind of tempted to talk with you more, Zen-san. About a lot of things.

Zen: Even back then, I told you to tell me if somethin’ was wrong, but you never did.

Yukio: It’s because I couldn’t do it back then

Zen: …Why?

Yukio: I think maybe you’re right, because I was scared. Our bond was reconnected, but if something happens to break it, it’ll all fall apart again.

Yukio: If I get into a fight with Reni, I’m sure everything would happen all over again…

Zen: …Yukio Tachibana’s a human being too, ain’t he?

Yukio: You’re right. I forgot that while cleaning the costume.

Zen: Because it was broken once but brought back together, that bond must be stronger than ever. And each one of us is even more developed as a person.

Zen: Ain’t no way somethin’ like that is gonna be broken so easily. So confront it head on. It’s not with the Reni from then, but with the Reni now.

Yukio: Right…

Zen: The one and only place where we belong will probably never be taken from us again, so we should cherish it until the day we die.

Yukio: …That’s the way of a lonely man’s life.

Yukio: Seconds, please!

Zen: Hmph, you still eat as much as ever.

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

#a3!#a3! translation #yukio tachibana #zen kuryu

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yanderu-deredere · 1 year ago

Text

a/n: to commemorate the beginning of october (which his halloween month), i've decided to write this little cute thing! hope you guys like it hehehe

what they yanderes would wear as halloween costumes

warning: gender neutral reader, absolutely no mentions of reader being a specific gender, mentions of reader being sexy LOL, mentions of costumes that might not conform to reader's gender/crossdressing

eun-jeong yoo ★ profile

beauty and the beast lmao

eun-jeong would really want to do an animal cosplay with you doing a matching costumes

so like beauty and the beast, werewolf and red riding hood, wolf and sheep, etc etc

he'd be the type to like buy pre-made costumes but then he'll see how badly the pre-made costumes are and do the costumes up a little bit more LOL

he wouldn't do a good job of it but he'd try to make it look better

liam arieh ★ profile

mans is nothing if not a mythology freak

he'd be the worst date to take to a halloween party becos he'd do some obscure shit and then be a bit annoyed or arrogant when people can't guess who the two of you are dressed up as

think persephone and hades, aphrodite and ares, orpheus and eurydice, achilles and patroclus, pylades and orestes, etc

most people will just guess that you're a greek couple LOL

you could probably convince him do do an angel and devil couple

gavin byrne ★ profile

no jokes, he'd wanna do those like stereotypically sexy halloween costumes LMAO but like the both of you have to do the same one

like for example: two sexy nurses, two sexy black cats, two sexy demons, etc etc

and it'll be like exactly matching LMAO no matter your gender (if you're comfy), you guys would be wearing female nurse outfits or sexy witch outfits

and the worst part is that like he'd 100% buy them from spirit halloween or the local party store so they're not best quality either

ayaka yamato ★ profile

would die to be able to do a j-fashion lolita outfit with you LOL

she's always wanted to dress up that way but it's hard to go around in lolita fashion and also it's something that immediately sticks out so she's never done it

but yeah, it has to be something cute and frilly

she'd pay attention to detail a lot and commission some renowned tailor or something to do the outfits

they have to be the same colour scheme so that it's obvious the two of you are matching

ryuunosuke yamamoto ★ profile

anime couple, anime couple, anime couple--

it can literally be any anime couple you want but it has to be from an anime that both of you have watched together/that both of you really love

he's a professional-level cosplayer so like he'd take over (but will let you help if you really want) and the cosplay will literally turn out so so good

he won't shy away from like armour or mech suit type stuff either

fujio watanabe ★ profile

won't really wanna dress up but you can force him to LOL

will only wear a costume if the costume is really easy to put on

like it has to be as easy to put on as regular clothes. it has to be something like a shirt, pants, maybe head gear but like nothing too complicated so it has to be either a headband or a hat

so like you're stuck with really boring costumes like cowboy? police man? stuff like that LOL and they'd be the cheap kind you can buy

gawain byrne ★ profile

vampire, vampire, vampire--

but like not dracula vampire! oh no, it'd be like period specific vampire with the loose white ruffled long sleeve shirts and tight pants LMAO

very victorian gothic style

and you have to also wear victorian gothic style. you don't have to be a vampire tho but i think gawain would just have a lot of fun putting on fangs hehehe

he'd want your costume to include like two red puncture marks tho LOL to signal that you're his vampiric snack

ryouta watanabe ★ profile

not to be repetitive but like video game couple, video game couple, video game couple--

would totally dress up as mario and princess peach or luigi and bowser if you'd like LOL

as long as it's like a video game that both of you love to play

he'll also do a cosplay of more detailed outfits like something from league of legends or overwatch or valorant

he's also a seasoned cosplayer so it'd be easy peasy for him to make a cosplay for both you and him

yeong-bae kigal ★ profile

GOD I KNOW I JUST SAID IT BUT video game couple, video game couple--

but yeong-bae would want it to be a bit more cutesy? so definitely like cookie run cookies, pokemon?, mario characters? something like that

would shy away a little from more complicated outfits like mech armour or video game outfits from more fight-y games. not becos he doesn't like them but becos they really want to look adorable and cute with you LOL

yeong-bae is literally in charge of a lot of the outfits the band wears so like he'd be really great with making the halloween outfits

he wouldn't be professional level though and he'd ask a little help from their stylist

soren kumar ★ profile

BORING BITCH

he'd wanna do something work related or uniform related lmao like a police couple or like a nurse and doctor? it definitely would be the type of outfits that are readily available and would be low effort for him

also low-key just wants to see you in uniform LMAO not that it's a kink or anything but just that he thinks it'd be sexy

and it's very! heteronormative! nasty man! he'd wear the man police uniform and (regardless of gender) he'd want you to wear the woman police uniform (cus it's sexier!!), etc etc

you can definitely argue with him abt it loool and he'll relent

would get them from spirit halloween or some cheap store though

emm fiala ★ profile

would want to dress up as something where she can utilize her burns. think freddy kreuger, jason, deadpool, frankenstein's monster

would want you to be her victim if she dresses up as a slasher or maybe be the spiderman to her deadpool? or even better, be the bride to her frankenstein's monster?

she'd definitely be all over you, doting on you, if you decide to dress up as her bride LOL and then you, casimir and her can be a trio! (frankenstein, his monster and his monster's bride!!)

would want to be more hands-on with the harder stuff of the costume like masks or weaponry but is absolutely useless when it comes to finer detailing like sewing together the clothes

casimir fiala ★ profile

desperately wants to dress up as a mad scientist LMAO just becos he already has the lab coat right so might as well?

would love for you to dress up as his deranged patient or as frankenstein's monster? or as his science experiment?

the outfits would be very home made but casimir is good enough and sewing. he's also very resourceful about things and can figure out how to make a decent enough costume

mel lowell ★ profile

honestly would want to be a wolf and something else couple LOL and no, the irony does not escape him

so something like wolf and red riding hood, wolf and pigs, wolf and sheep, etc etc

would buy the costumes becos he can't really control his shift enough to not freak people out if the two of you go to a party or something

he'd definitely buy online though and he'd make sure they costumes are really durable and can last a long time just in case the two of you want to save them for something else? or for next year

isamu lowell ★ profile

doesn't wanna dress up LOL but not becos he doesn't like halloween! it's becos he wants to go as himself for halloween

unlike mel, he's very eager to just go as a werewolf!

but, like mel, he wants to do a wolf and something else kind of cosplay! honestly, at this point, you might just become three wolves and a lowly sheep group cosplay LOL

like i said before, he won't need to really buy his outfit just becos he'll transform into it LOL but, for your outfit, he'd want it to be the highest quality he can get his hands on becos he wants you to be comfy

leonard lowell ★ profile

honestly, leonard wants to go with the flow so whatever you want! but be warned that he'll be very critical of the outfits LOL

the costume has to be high quality and, if it's not, he'll nag you or just take the costumes and try to do them up a little bit so they're more comfortable

he'd be willing to do a wolf cosplay if you want to go with whatever the other wolves want LOL but he'd be like a very anime-fied sexy werewolf, yknow what i mean?

might even throw in a thick leather collar in there to be extra sexy LOL

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its-a-ittle-bit-cold · 2 years ago

Text

Trying hard to let go

1.6k words

Anakin Skywalker x reader

Waves masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part of the Waves universe, this is sort of a 0.5 story to introduce you to my version of the order etc.

Summary: While on leave, you adjust to life in the city and run into someone who you can never seem to stop finding

warnings: brief argument, grieving the loss of a loved one

a/n: another week, another addition to one of my series! I may find the energy to bust another one out tomorrow, but who knows! Happy reading!

It’s almost as if, since the official commemoration of Master Bosque, a new time period has started. It… feels as if everything that happened when he was alive is the before now, and everything since his death is after. This is strictly after.

You’ve tried and tried and tried to move on. It works sometimes, just distracting yourself, mediating, training the younglings at the Creche, plotting missions you won’t go on. Designing drills and challenges for jedi to practice with (especially Jedi who wield two blades, like you).

Becoming a Master Sentinel has also been an adjustment. After the death of Bosque, you had to take over as the head sentinel on coruscant, moving into an apartment in the highly populated domestic sectors, walking a beat, helping out civilians, catching runaway pets and showing off your lightsabers to small kids (they are always fascinated by the fact that you have, not one, but two white lightsabers, something different, something unique).

You’ve made friends, encounters frequent, while you’re on shore leave, which is how you’ve found yourself in the latest fix: a wedding.

You’ve never been to a wedding before, as all of your friends are Jedi, bound by the code, but your now close friend Callia needed a plus-one to a wedding of one of you other friends, and you weren’t about to let her go alone. So, you had set off to do something you’d never done before: shopping.

It’s a wonderful experience, shopping is. The shops overwhelm you with colors you’d never see in the jedi temple- the flashiest thing you wear is the custom beskar chest plate you’d been gifted after a battle with a high ranking Mandalorian house member. The rest of your attire is strictly shades of brown and the white-and-teal clone armor you wear on your arms in combat.

So the silks and cottons and lush fabrics of the dress shop you’ve stepped into are a shock to you. Callia- bless her- is a whirlwind who does al the work for you, picking out ten different dresses of varying styles and colors appropriate for a wedding, tossing them (and you) into a dressing room.

After a rigorous amount of spinning and pinching and hemming and “hmm”ing and denying scandalous dresses, you come out with two dresses, one, “just in case,” and to “build your wardrobe,” because Jedi, apparently “dress like colorblind grandmothers,” according to Callia.

This is how you end up sitting on the bathroom counter of Calia’s apartment, letting her pint your face with brand new makeup - the products she has wouldn’t work on the tone of your skin, considering that she is Pantoran, and therefore, blue.

She’s radiant, of course, with the golden Pantoran formal headdress adorning her light hair, big eyes, drawn in dark eyeliner, light purple dress draped over her thin frame. She won’t let you look at yourself until she’s done with you. She grabs your chin, dabbing a dark pigment on your lips, smiling.

“Okay, look.”

You turn, eyes widening as you take in the reflection of a girl- not a Jedi. Who you could have been, had you found your way to coruscant on your own, without the help of the Jedi.

could you be attending your own wedding?

no.

There’s no room for doubt and The Force.

You inhale. Was this a mistake?

No, because this is the duty of a Sentinel. Live among the people. Personify the Jedi.

Your dress, a simple sage green dress with a square neck that reaches to your mid-calf, is perfectly fluffy enough for you to hide your sabers under the skirt, thanks to your thigh holsters.

Your hair is pinned back, artfully framing your face in just the right places, and the makeup Callia has painted on is the perfect simple face.

Understated, she calls it.

the rest of the night is uneventful- aside from you struggling to walk in your heels, the misting of your eyes at the sight of the pure happiness passing in the bride and groom’s faces as they tie the final bow and celebrate their union.

It’s warm when the reception ends. You hug your friends whose wedding you’ve just celebrated, wishing them luck through the force, and the you and Callia begin the journey home. On the transit, though, you take off the heels that have been killing your feet, leaving them in plain white socks. It’s okay, because you and Callia are the only ones in this carriage.

The stops drag on as you sit in silence, eyelids drooping, the high fading from the great time you’d had tonight.

The doors slide open to a ruckus, shaking you awake, Callia also takes her head off your shoulder, glancing distractedly at the door. Clones.

More specifically, royal blue painted clones. The 501st.

Fives, one of your favorites of Anakin’s troops, catches sight of you and does a double take.

“General?” he calls out. You smile tiredly at the matching sets of brown eyes that land on you, suddenly feeling completely out of place without your armor, sitting here in civvy clothes coming from a civvy event.

“Hey, boys,” you say, standing up and bowing to them respectfully, just as you would another jedi. “I didn’t know you were on leave, too.”

“Wait! Hold the doors!”

Another clone voice, and two pairs of pounding footsteps, and then a blond trooper enters. Rex, and… Anakin.

You stop short, locking eyes with him, until Callia breaks your intense stare, nudging you with her elbow, clearing her throat.

“Ah, yes. Everyone, this is Callia. Callia, this is Fives, Jesse, Tup, Kix and Hardcase. Over there, the blond, that’s Rex, he’s the Clone commander for the 501st legion. And… that one,” you point at Anakin, “Is General Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi of the Grand republic, the one I told you about.”

The significance of this phrase is loaded for each of you.

To Anakin, you suppose this might mean you’ve told Callia everything. Everything that he said, that he did to make you fall apart.

To you and Callia, you’re referring to the one you grew up training with, your former best friend, though you’ve spared her the details of the argument that made everything go south.

Callia, ever the extrovert, strides forward and pumps Anakin’s hand.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Y/n’s other best friend!”

Well, maybe you left out the former part of the relationship.

“…hi?” Anakin shakes her hand with his glove on, eyes still on you. “Other best friend, huh?”

“Well, she told me how you two grew up together and stuff, so yeah!”

“Callia,” You say. “This is your stop.”

Indeed, her cue to leave is indicated by the holo over the door.

“Oh, well, it’s was nice meeting you guys!” Callia waves to the group of clones gathered awkwardly in the corner of the compartment. They all wave back, vaguely confused by the Pantoran girl who promptly bounces out of the transit vehicle, blowing you a kiss right as the doors close.

“Well, she seems nice,” Anakin tells you, grinning slyly.“Bestie.”

you groan.

How is it that, through the vacuum of space, miles and miles away, you can sense his presence, but on the public Coruscanti transit system, somehow you’re surprised by his appearance?

“She doesn’t seem to grasp that I’m not allowed to have any ‘best friends’.”

Rex shakes his head.

“Don’t know you were living with the civvies, General.”

you shrug.

“It’s new. just this leave I’ve moved into the city.”

Fives shoulders his way to you, face alight with humor.

“What’s got you all dolled up, General? I didn’t think the Jedi were allowed to wear anything but browns.”

“You know, gives, that’s exactly what my friends said when the saw me.” you wave your shows in the air. “I was at a wedding.”

“A wedding.”

“Yes, Skywalker, a wedding. That’s what civilians do. They go to weddings and they go shopping and do all these pointless things just for the fun of it.”

Anakin steps toward you.

“Civilians? But you’d been doing so well at fitting in, with your friends.” He sneers the last word. “Now you refer to them as others?”

You step towards him, too, narrowing your eyes.

“I can have civilian friends, you know. That’s what Sentinels do. We can’t all just swing out lightsabers and blow things up and walk away without consequences.”

“No, face it, Y/n, you’re running. Like you always do.”

“You’re one to talk about running, Skywalker.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Suddenly, you’re hit with an overwhelming wave of weariness. You’re tired of arguing with him and the tense silences and the broken moments. Biting back a reproach, to tell him exactly what that means, you glance around.

The Clones are probably tired of it, too.

“Whatever, Skywalker. I’m not doing this with you again. It always ends with both of us going home hurting.”

Anakin’s perplexed by this, you can see it on his face. Behind him, Rex has a peculiar expression of relief on his face. He probably just wants to see Jex again without having to separate their generals from another screaming match.

Anakin’s shut up, at least.

“This is my stop. goodnight Rex, boys,” You pause, then, quietly, “Goodnight, Anakin.”

It’s not until you tuck yourself into bed and turn over that you realize that this has been the first day since his death that you’ve not thought of Bosque once.

Some part of you jolts at the notion of forgetting him, but how could you? He always was and is a huge part of your life, even in his absence.

And you will always hold him near, but that doesn’t mean you have to regret him all day every day.

You felt him today, you realize. Stepping back from the argument, bidding a polite goodnight to someone you could easily hate.

You can almost feel him hand on your shoulder, showing you the way.

———

Aaaaah starting off with the process of grief! Thanks for letting me ramble to you ;)

#anakin skywalker x jedi reader #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker #imagines #star wars #clone wars imagine #clone wars #captain rex #grieving #moving on

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peachymilkandcream · 10 months ago

Text

Ready Or Not|Part 5|Yandere Levi x Evelyn

(A/N: I am loving hardened military Levi, he's so out there and off his rocker I love it!)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, graphic depictions of violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

===============================================

Levi followed his troops to the home of one of the city's wealthy families. An older woman who often chatted and gossiped around the town, people like these he couldn't stand normally, but a gossip like this would know more than he would about Evelyn's whereabouts.

He dismounted and marched straight towards her, time was money and he continually found himself in short supply as of late.

"Speak, and if I find that you've wasted my time woman you'll be sorely paid back for it."

Her smug smile never left her face, happy to have something to make Humanity's Strongest indebted to her. As a man who declined invitations to parties and visitations something like this would surely get her and her worthless husband in his favour.

"Captain Ackerman, just the man I wanted to see. You might remember me, I was at Commander Pixis' little get together to commemorate all his years of service. It's such an honor to meet the man who keeps us safe."

His expression is unchanging, the lighting casting dark shadows onto his face, giving him a more menacing appearance.

She clears her throat, uncomfortable, but continues. "I hope this information puts us in a good light for you, always eager to help out those in our class. It's a shame with your wife, why if I were you-"

"Cut to the chase woman, I don't have time for your empty flattery and nonsense."

A little offended she presses on. "Right, well, I saw Mrs. Ackerman running this way with dear little Furlan on her hip. The poor thing was frightened half to death at being taken from his home. She seemed frantic and headed towards the docks."

"What time was this?"

"I'd say about, two in the afternoon? Clearly trying to sneak away before you came home."

"Good." He turns to a soldier. "I want you to look up ship records, who was in port at that time or the hour after for good measure. That'll narrow it down."

"I'm glad to be of help." Her smile still smug.

"And you," He motions to another. "Make sure this woman and her husband understand the meaning of keeping her lips shut."

"Yes sir."

"Wait what are you doing? Not even a thank you?"

Levi continues to return to his horse, ignoring the pleading from the lady as his soldiers show her what will happen if this turns into gossip as well.

He's renewed with a sense of vigor, another lead. Her location was being narrowed down with each passing day, soon he would find her.

"Now to show someone else what happens if they don't talk."

==============================================

"Fired? What do you mean fired?"

"I mean you're done, look your kid broke a lamp the other day and I know you sure as hell can't afford to pay me back."

"I will eventually, please, just give me another chance."

"If I gave every sob story a chance I'd be broke. Go talk to the man who knocked you up for support."

Evelyn's expression darkened. "Come on Furlan."

"Yeah get lost, find someone else to steal from."

Evelyn had survived with much less, but rent was going up and she was running out of employers. All of them found some reason to fire her.

When they returned home she set Furlan down for a nap while dealing with the dead body in her house. Her former employer, Mrs. Price, the poor soul had been badmouthing Evelyn to everyone looking for work in this city. All because she believed that Evelyn was being punished for the sin of being a single mother and that helping her would only give her a means to have more pre-marital sex.

She had it coming to her.

Evelyn Glass Ackerman, a murderer. It was in times like these she referred to herself by her married name, since it was fitting to accompany the two. Levi had made her this way, he had forced her to do things she never would have done. All because of his selfishness.

Thankfully for her he always taught her how to clean up the mess afterwards. In all his years alive Levi had never been caught and charged with a single crime although he committed more than she wanted to think about. He was a vile human being, but he taught her how to survive. For that and only that would she be forever grateful.

She had to find another income soon, with a child on the way soon she would have another mouth to feed. And without Levi's money she wasn't sure how she could do it. Everyone here believed that she was the product of her own making and that one could damage their reputation by associating with a whore.

Some people never changed.

She'd find a way, somehow, to survive. She couldn't go back, not now, she was too far into this. Who knows what Levi would do if she came crawling back now? He could actually kill her, lose control and everything she still loved of this world would be gone. No, she had to keep running.

He controlled her once, he'd never do it again.

#ready or not #break me slowly #levi x oc #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #levi aot #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader #yandere levi

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reblog-house · 7 months ago

Text

This FFF comes courtesy to @what-the-fuck-adam and I's lost multiplayer world. Our home that we just found out is gone. This is... to commemorate it.

There was a lot more I wanted to include. There's an infinite amount of stories to be told in that world we shared and played in for what feels like years but was only half of one, but this is the story I decided to tell. Something that never got to happen, but could've, had the timing been right.

With that aside, a self-fic:

Find Me at Home (Catching Fish)

Characters: Bo and I (friends :D)

Wc: 900

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 262, “Run Far and Fast”

Ao3: Here!

“W-” Carime looked up from its watch to find no one around. How did Bo get so far so fast? They were just under the spruce trees, making their way out of the Portal Base when Carime decided to check the time and now it was alone. Speechless, it opened comms.

> BO WHAT THE HELL.

> what lol

> WHERE ARE YOU

> ??? past the mushroom base > where are YOU

> How did you get there so FAST! > Still at the portal base

> lmao

Carime growled at the non-answer and shut its eyes. If only they could fly, but even back when it had wings, it had never been able to. With a sigh, they ran down the staircase over to their little dock. Some other time, it might’ve turned around to appreciate the handicraft, how the two of them came together to make it a cozier place, Carime with the little decorative cave, Bo with… the entire dock, stone chiseled just right with just the hint of walls to elevate the design — they had truly become a great builder. But now, they rushed past it.

To be honest, it was always a rush, trying to catch up to Bo.

Carime jumped into its boat and started rowing. Once the river opened up into the ocean and they went past the Mushroom Base, in its top-heavy blocky glory, they looked down into the waters and jumped in, thankful for the dolphins Bo had inadvertently brought back from one of their explorations together.

Well, no. Bo had explored while Carime was off doing something repetitive, probably farming or trading, or something. But then Bo had taken them on a journey across the oceans far and wide, through hills of emeralds and of jungles, until deep within one, and deep under the earth and stone, they found a trail ruin and spent ages digging around it. Bo had stolen some terracotta before Carime could tell them to keep everything intact, but at least it managed to preserve… a grand majority of it.

After that, they took their valuables and came back, each with their own boat, Carime trailing behind its friend as dolphins swam and splashed around Bo without their knowledge. That was cute.

It took a picture and once they docked at their base (the Flower Base, Beachside Base, whatever name Bo had decided without telling Carime, their current home), it told Bo of what had happened. They found it funny and moved on. The picture stayed locked inside its comms.

Now, Carime broke the boat and let the dolphins’ grace flow through them to power through the ocean.

Eventually, the dolphins dispersed and it was left with no option but to call back the boat. So, now soaking and covered in salt, they continued on rowing.

The top of the house became visible, after a while, and with it, the rows of wheat fields at the right and the sheep forever stuck in their tiny decorative 2 by 3 wheat “farm”.

And at the left of the house, Bo was sitting on the dock, a fishing rod in hand, as it always was.

Carime swerved to the left and went over to them. It ed the boat to the dock and jumped up. Bo turned to look at them with a grin.

“Yo.”

“Fishing already?”

“You were taking too long,” they said and reeled in the line. They put the fish on a pile behind them, three cod stacked on top of each other.

“Not my fault,” Carime started, and then stopped, since they didn’t know how to continue that sentence. Instead, it changed the topic. “You wanted to show me something?”

“Oh, yeah!” They stood, fishing rod against one shoulder and scooped the three fish with their other hand. They walked over to the fishing cabin Carime had made for them and left the cod in a barrel, their rod on top of it. “I never showed you the base.”

Carime stopped, brain churning. “The… cherry grove one? I’ve been there.”

“No, the one in the nook. A cottage in the ice.”

“Oh,” it clicked. “Yeah, okay, I know where that is. Haven’t seen it, you’re right.”

Bo had already started walking back into their house. Carime ran to catch up to them.

Bo went for the chests across the entrance and Carime went down the ladder right next to the pot with a single cooked chicken inside. It had accidentally dropped it inside while trying to eat it, ages ago, and hadn’t figured out how to get it out without breaking the pot. That was just there now.

Carime got to the basement and started looking through their chests. “Did you get food yet?”

“Uh, yeah,” their voice came from upstairs. “Take some more. Don’t forget your bed.”

“Got it!” It scooped a stack of baked potatoes (potatoes it had wanted to trade… before they got baked) and put a hand on the ladder.

“It’s night!” Bo’s voice came from the other side.

Knowing what that meant, Carime let go of the ladder and walked through the chest room, over to the trading room, and then climbed the ladder. Bo was already lying in bed trying to make the night pass and Carime joined them in slumber.

Tomorrow, they’d visit Bo’s newest base. They’d traverse through ocean and rivers and set up camp on the way there.

But for now, they’d rest.

#fff262 #my writing #minecraft #minecraft sona #uh.#yeh.

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forabeatofadrum · 2 years ago

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End of the line

Summary: The New Directions and others return to Lima for the 10 year anniversary of Finn’s death.

Notes: For Cory.

AO3

Tracy Hummel-Anderson loves having a full house, and her grandparents’ house is filled to the brim with her dads’ friends.

Kurt doesn’t have the heart to explain to a three year old what death means and why they’re all here. Tracy knows of Finn and she knows that he is no longer around, but she doesn’t fully understand why yet.

Tracy is hugging everyone’s legs and giving flowers that she picked in the garden. When she hands one to Carole, Carole tries very hard to not burst into a new round of tears. That’s Kurt’s cue to step in.

“Come on, Tracy,” he picks her up and carries her away from Carole.

“Do you think grandma loved the flower?” she asks.

“I think she loved it,” Kurt answers earnestly. Carole loves everything that Tracy makes, but today is just weird. It’s been ten years since Finn died. Every year, the New Directions try to get together to commemorate, and it doesn’t always work, but everyone made time to be here for the 10th anniversary.

Kurt puts her down so that she can hang around with the other kids. His friends have kids. He and Blaine were the first, but Rachel and Jesse’s daughter soon followed. Tina and Artie surprised everyone, including themselves, with twins. Brittany and Santana are looking into it as well. The New Directions are growing up.

Well, apart from Finn. He never made it past 19. He would’ve turned 29 this year.

What would his life had looked like? Everyone thought he’d end up with Rachel. He was working on becoming a teacher.

Kurt shakes his head. He’s helping no one with this. When Finn first died, Kurt couldn’t stop thinking about all these possible scenario’s, because it felt so unfair that he died. Kurt still thinks it’s unfair, but he stopped torturing himself.

The 10 year anniversary just brings back feelings.

Kurt walks back to his parents. His dad is talking with Sam about the time Sam and Finn competed for the position of quarterback. Carole, who still looks like a mess, laughs over a memory that Tina shared with her, only to fall silent again.

The mood is off. Tracy is right to think that it’s fun to be together with everyone, because Kurt also loves seeing everyone again, but it’s also under a weird circumstance.

A photo of Finn has been put on prominent display, with the date of his birth and death presented underneath. There’s a small line between them. Puck once said that it’s weird how that one life represents an entire life and it’s true. How does one line capture 19 years of a life well-lived?

It’s so weird to think that Finn’s already reached the end of his line.

Tracy apparently got bored being around the other kids, because she’s walking around again, amusing everyone. Quinn gives her a piece of candy from her pocket, Artie has his camera out and he films her skipping around the room, Mike twirls her around, and so on. Tracy loves her honourary aunts and uncles and they love her.

She eventually ends up at Blaine, who carries her to Kurt.

“Are you having fun?” Kurt asks.

Tracy nods happily and Kurt smiles. Kurt and Blaine make eye contact and Blaine nods.

“Go to daddy, Tracy,” Blaine says and he hands her to Kurt, “He wants to show you something.”

“Oh?”

Kurt takes her to Finn’s photograph. Tracy has grown a lot, so he needs both arms to carry her, so he can’t pick up the photo. Instead, he bends his knees and lowers Tracy.

“Uncle Finn!” Tracy says.

“Indeed,” Kurt says and he feels a lump in his throat. He’s still Tracy’s uncle. “We’re all here for him.”

“Why?” Tracy asks. She has a puzzled look on her face and it’s adorable.

“Because we miss him,” Kurt answers.

He realises that the room has gotten silent. He doesn’t want to look around, but he knows others are watching him and Tracy.

“Is this his party?” Tracy asks and Kurt lets out a teary laugh.

He wants to say that it’s not a party, and that people can come together for different reasons, and that today is a sad day, but then he thinks about her words.

Kurt will never celebrate Finn’s death. Never. The thought alone is baffling.

But he thinks of today. Everyone’s come to his parents’ house for Finn. People are trading stories and other fun memories. Photos and videos are passed around and despite the weird atmosphere, everyone is having a good time. It’s nice to come together and talk about the person they all miss so dearly.

“I guess so,” Kurt says, “A party to celebrate your uncle. That’s one way to see it.”

“Will there be cake?” Tracy asks. Of course she thinks of cakes. She mostly goes to birthday parties.

“We can have a cake,” Kurt’s dad cuts in, before Kurt can answer, “Right, Carole?”

Kurt finally turns around and as expected, all eyes are on him and Tracy, apart from his dad’s. He’s looking at Carole. Carole’s eyes are wet.

“Yes,” she eventually says, “Yes, we can. Chocolate fudge. His favourite.”

“I’ll drive down to the bakery!” many people volunteer at once, which makes everyone laugh. There will definitely be cake now.

“Yay!” Tracy claps her hands and Kurt hugs his daughter closer. He’s sad that Finn’s never got to met her, but she’s here and Kurt will keep the memory of his brother alive for her. He won’t be the only ones. Everyone in this room will remember Finn and as Tracy said, they will continue to celebrate him.

#glee #ficlet #i guess #anyway how y'all doing gleeks #holy fuck I wrote #2023 #unbeta'd yada yada i wrote this in a rush of emotions cause it has been 10 years wtf

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milkspoilt · 10 months ago

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an excerpt from my blog, on finding something close to religion through devotion:

The theme ritual and commemoration really resonates with me particularly in the aspect of love and devotion; I have always found myself having an estranged relationship with a higher being or God himself.. I was christened when I was younger and sometimes find solace in that fact even if it doesn't fit who I am. I was quite a lonely child growing up and found myself talking to God often on my knees at my landing window, maybe I spoke to whoever was up there in a sense to comfort myself or out of wonder, but I did speak to whoever listened, finding signs I was heard and stars shinning brighter than the rest when I wished upon them. But when my grandmother died I turned quite cold towards a God I once seeked comfort from -now had taken away a love in my life, someone who called me her angel was now one of his, how could this be? And so I grew up to be a child in a teenager's body who had a lot of resentment in her heart for a God she once spoke to with loneliness.. she now ignored or spoke to with hate. This continued as I grew up, to hate was a lot easier to do than try to understand. God remained someone I would loathe.. I would not turn to or acknowledge him until as I grew up realised I would call out for him on special occasions.. I found myself dumbfounded but still.. I would turn to God when I was in love; to ask for a prayer or to keep me in his sights, to send me a sign or listen to me.. but still I would treat him as if everything we had been through together was reversible -that is what he preaches isn't it.. forgiveness? And so I used this to my advantage, only when love was involved would I pray or wish for it to continue.. and as soon as it ended I would curse him again. I am a simple girl I suppose. Maybe greedy or selfish or head in the clouds or hopeful..

I don't know why I resort to a higher being when I feel feelings.. maybe because they are felt so deeply only a religious figure would understand me? Only those who devote their life to a God they've never met or touched, would know how I feel? Maybe praying countless times a day unanswered or keeping people in your prayers is similar to how I act when in love. Intensely, deeply, unfathomably, religiously. Maybe it is all these things.

And so that leads me here.. What I would like to explore is almost my relationship with God when in love or devoted to another. I think this is quite an interesting take on the brief, maybe it's quite literal but I do believe when I love it feels almost like a religious action. I can't half throw myself into things, I need to be consumed and engulfed by them completely. They need to swallow me.

#an excerpt #poetry #ritual #commemoration #christianity #love #devotion #art project #my artwork #my art #religious art #art about love #queer #my poetry #art #poet #love poetry #original poem #female poets

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dent-de-leon · 1 year ago

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Hello, I am here once again to cast my Molly thoughts onto you.

Very often I think about Molly once being quiet…empty. But then he thrives in the joys, laughter, and color of the carnival, and then with the Nein.

But sometimes, Molly will have dreams, visions, nightmares of the quiet, the empty, THE EYES, and suddenly, he’s in a state of silence, unable to talk.

The Nein are fumbling on what to do, but then Yasha, his dear Yasha, easily holds himself close, and he hangs onto her like a lifeline. She does her best to talk despite not being the best conversationalist, but it’s what Molly is so familiar with, so soothed by. She tells him of the colorful flowers she’s seen, the crackling sound of thunder from her trips away from the group, the bustling sounds of people she has passed by.

The Nein learn from this, making sure that when Molly is unnervingly silent, they give him sounds, colors, warmth.

Molly may be silent, but never is he empty.

Oh, I absolutely headcannon this as well!! We know that Molly did have nightmares about Lucien and the Eyes--dreams that he always tried to forget. And at the very end of Campaign 2, Matt describes the haunting visions that Kingsley still sees of Cognouza and Lucien night after night. King reliving the moment when he sacrificed himself over and over, the primal alien screams and black chains that followed--

So I definitely think Molly/King still has moments when he feels that familiar, gnawing ache of Empty, once too many nightmares and memories come pouring back. And I can definitely see Yasha running right to his side. When Molly first confesses the truth about Lucien and his days of clawing Emptiness, he's so grateful to have Yasha there for him. Gives her a pat on the shoulder and says, "Thank you, dear." And at the very start of the episode, he stays close by her, still trying to suppress a panic attack--laughing nervously, admitting shakily, "I'm so glad to see you."

Just having Yasha near helps ground him. And if he got lost in feeling Empty again--even if the rest of the world and his memories start to fade, I think he'd still very much be drawn to her and reach out to her for comfort all the same.

I think a lot about how King Molly's first word after Empty is Love, how he goes up to Yasha and gives her a big hug and holds on tight. The way he goes and picks flowers for her and Beau in the Blooming Grove--all these little things that show how much he loves his charm and the rest of the Nein, even though he still doesn't have the words to say it.

The way Jester shows Tealeaf each of the cards in his tarot deck, gently tells him that she hopes just having them again will make him feel a little bit better. Tries her best to give him something concrete to hold onto, to anchor him. I can see her dealing out the cards between them whenever Molly's feeling Empty again, Jester softly telling him who each person is and what their card means. Tealeaf clinging to the deck and reading through it over and over in the moonlight, trying to commemorate every face to memory. The way Jester's so protective of Molly like he always was of her.

And then...I just can't get over how it's Caleb Molly calls out to first after Yasha. How first and foremost he has his Love, is warmed by just the sight of her so much, and then calls out for his Magician right after. The way Caleb fought so hard just for the chance to reunite with Molly, limped to his side and begged the rest of the Nein to save him. Casting the spell to resurrect him, promising so earnestly, "Empty no longer, Mr. Tealeaf." Caleb showing so much love and compassion for Mollymauk, that when all hope seems lost, when he doesn't wake--it's him Yasha turns to for comfort, looking to him for help as she cries, "Is there nothing else to do...? Caleb?" Because they both just love him so much. Because Yasha trusts Caleb to save him.

In those moments when Molly/King goes nonverbal, I think Caleb would also be very patient, very understanding. Because he'd been through very much the same thing, all those years in the sanitarium. We see panel after panel of him silently moving through the years in a haze, and I think it's very much implied he never spoke, never really felt aware. Just years and years of walking through this nightmare, dissociating from the world around him--Trent's spell further distancing him from himself, locking all his memories away.

So if anyone would understand exactly what it is Tealeaf's feeling when all he can say is Empty, I think it's Caleb. Because for an entire decade, that's how he felt. I can see him being kind and gentle with Molly in those moments the way he wished someone would have been for him. Sitting by his side when the memories get to be too much, when it all eats away at him until he feels hollow again. Caleb delicately parting his hair and giving him another forehead kiss, promising him again that he isn't Empty anymore--

It's like how Yasha told Molly having a family again made her feel less empty. I think her and Caleb just understand a lot of Molly's pain and grief in a very intimately familiar way, and it makes them both want to reach back out to Mollymauk like he did for him. Molly, who tells Lucien, "We love broken things the most," and gives his whole heart to try and save other shattered souls.

And I just love your idea that Yasha would see how Molly is grounded by color and light and joy and life; all the vibrant, beautiful things that Molly saw in the world, even though he still knew it was so "harsh and cruel." Yasha giving Mollymauk more wonderful memories to fill that Emptiness, to remind him that he is alive, and whole, and loved.

I think of Yasha holding onto Molly and hugging him as tight as she can when they fall asleep. Playing old songs from the circus on her harp. Beau reading pages from her journal aloud, showing off all the little trinkets she gathered in their travels. Jester fanning out the tarot deck and inviting him to pick a few cards. Drawing with him under the stars. Caleb casting Prismatic Image until golden memories flicker all around them, retelling all of their adventures like it's his favorite story, watching the way Tealeaf's eyes light up--

#mollymauk #circus man my beloved...#this is so sweet and absolutely the kind of thing I imagine #I can definitely see Molly/King starting to feel Empty again whenever the stress of all his nightmares and scattered memories #just become too much #and he subconsciously just...tries to shut it all out to protect himself #I think hes very much someone who needs lots of tactile comfort and affection and reassurance when he closes himself off #and I can see the nein becoming very protective of him and taking care of him like they did in the end of c2 #the way the nein help molly process his trauma and keep him grounded is just very important to me

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cruesuffix · 7 months ago

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Due to a lot of stalking on this app, I found my newest favourite thing in this fandom: fem!crüe

Here is something to commemorate this wonderful phenomenon (femininomenon?? ok I’ll stop) my first time actually writing some type of smut so if it’s cringy pls tell me, complain send in your hate mail to my dms. anyways this doesn’t have a title but I think you can all predict what pairing I’m coming in with (predictable much?)

Nikki can tell Marzi is drunk, if the loud, rapid knocking that sounds like someone is in danger of getting kidnapped is any indication. They just finished a show and finally managed to get to their hotel rooms when her belligerent guitarist starts pounding at her door. Nikki knows it’s probably not best to hang around her like this anymore. In a brief moment of clarity, Nikki had decided to get sober. The drugs weren’t doing her any good, and in order to be productive enough to write, perform, be a human she needed to get off of everything. Maybe she could start fresh, and she at least needed the motivation to keep going. Marzi wasn’t a good influence. The guitarist was…in a funk to say the least. It was clear to everyone around her.

She was never one to get blackout drunk before, but now she was drinking before, during, and after each show. It never affected her playing, though the damage was starting to show physically. Nikki tried not to notice how much the older woman’s face swelled after a night out. It seemed like it was starting to make her a bit self conscious, and it took Nikki awhile to calm her down during a fit. There was something there, something going on. For some reason, Nikki never addressed it. She never called her out for it, never asked if she was doing ok. She felt bad, but deep down she knew she’d never get the response she wanted. Marzi would still refuse to open up, no matter how wasted she was.

She knows she shouldn’t entertain it. She shouldn’t be letting Marzi in, letting her get her way. Still, she opens her door. She was lonely either way. Who cares if she won’t remember their conversation, if they even have one. Who cares if she won’t remember her trying to help, she’ll end up sleeping in her arms at the end of the night. They’ll wake up the next morning, nothing on under those sheets. Marzi will grin at her, smudged makeup making her look trashy, in a chic way. Nikki will once again succumb to the fact that she just can’t say no to that woman. She opens the door anyways.

Nikki can’t help but grin as Marzi stumbled in, lazy grin plastered on her face.

“I’m bored, wanna play…” She slurred, immediately heading for Nikki’s bed. Nikki tilted her head, amused. Marzi runs this show, yet Nikki’s somehow still surprised after all those months.

She takes in her appearance. She hasn’t changed out of her stage clothes, and it seems like she probably just came back from whatever prospects she finds herself in. Her face is flushed bright pink, and it compliments her pale complexion. Her black skirt and low cut top make Nikki’s eyes wander, and Marzi had to pretend that she didn’t notice.

“You should really slow down Mars, it’s starting to get concerning seeing you like this.” Nikki comments, offhandedly. She quickly closes the door, turning back around to see Marzi flop onto her bed.

“You like seeing me like this!” Marzi giggled, her tone teasing. She hiccuped, then laughed again. Nikki felt her face flush.

Nikki hated that she was right. She was already so attracted to her older bandmate, she was always a mystery Nikki wanted so desperately to figure out. It was embarrassing to admit it, but something about how Marzi looked and acted when wasted turned her on so much. She couldn’t hide those glances when they were at a bar together. Marzi drinking vodka straight from the bottle, slowly getting louder and more abrasive as she got more and more wasted. She liked watching the older woman lose herself more and more, her inhibitions slowly melting away. She liked seeing her become so vulnerable. Marzi would never usually let her emotions show, she was a box fully guarded with at least five locks around her. Late at night, under the sheets, she’d spill things. She’d let Nikki subtlety know how she felt about certain things. Whispering secrets, like they were at a sleepover and not in a tight embrace, sweaty skin touching skin.

Marzi was a quiet girl, modest and always having the vibe of having to take care of three kids. She kept herself out of trouble for so long, it was almost funny seeing her succumb to the party life the others girls had been living for the past four years. She was slowly becoming like them, messy and wild. Nikki loved it. Every night, like clockwork, Marzi would make her way to her. She always reeked of booze, always smiled and batted her eyelashes.

At first, Nikki hadn’t wanted to do anything. She was scared she was taking advantage of her. The first time Marzi came over, Nikki had simply pushed her in bed and forced her to sleep everything off. Then, Marzi laid down the law. She knew what she wanted, and Nikki was going to give her exactly that. After some trial and error, they worked up a routine that seemed natural enough. Nikki learned soon enough that Marzi liked it, liked being taken advantage of while in such a state. She was equally turned on by the idea. That was the only time they ever did anything though, and it had confused Nikki at first. She felt conflicted even after Marzi had reassured her it was fine. It took a while to finally be comfortable with it. It became their little secret.

Here they were now. Marzi was sprawled on Nikki’s bed, skirt lifting just above her thigh, just enough to show off a sliver of her pink panties. It made Nikki blush and look away. That was something she’d never expected from her. Marzi only ever wore black, she had to be forced to wear red for the ‘Smokin in The Boys Room’ video. Yet, here she is wearing the most girly underwear. It looked like something Victoria would wear. Then again, maybe it was hers. Marzi closed her eyes, letting out a sigh that almost sounded like a moan to Nikki. Her breath hitches. She finds herself slowly moving closer to the bed. Marzi opened his eyes again, lazy smile turning into an excited grin. Her glazed over eyes catching Nikki’s, full of fiery passion.

“Whatcha waiting for?” She asked, voice light and airy. It was more playful than demanding, but Nikki doesn’t care. It’s incentive enough to pounce on her.

Her hands are all over her, roaming from chest to stomach to hips. Her hands slip under her shirt, groping her small breasts. Marzi doesn’t even try to hide her moans. Though she’s always been insecure about her size, Nikki knows how to touch her, to make her come undone. She swiped at her nipples, earning a surprised gasp. Marzi’s head tilts back in pleasure. Nikki teases her though, slowly gliding her hands down, in a way she knows is torturing her. She grips her hips, rough. Marzi hisses, and pushes herself closer to Nikki. It’s a subtle way of telling her to hurry up, but Nikki ignores her, trailing her fingers down slowly. To distract her, she leans in. Pulling her guitarist into a slow but passionate kiss, she gets closer and closer to her target.

Marzi moans into the kiss, trying to guide Nikki’s hands closer, but Nikki pulls away. She digs a hand into Marzi’s hair, griping slightly. She gives a little tug, a slight punishment for trying to take the reins. Marzi might be getting what she wants, but Nikki’s in control here. She agreed to give herself fully to her bassist and that’s exactly what she needs to remind her. Biting her lower lip slightly, Nikki resumes her little show. She’s fiddling with the hem of Marzi’s skirt, slowly tugging them down. Marzi is whimpering now, throbbing with the ache of anticipation. Her grip on Nikki’s hands is tight, but Nikki pretends not to feel a thing. Inside, she’s a ball of nerves ready to explode. Her heartbeat has now travelled to her own pants and it takes everything in her to not rip off her own pants and get off right in front of her needy girl. Her breathing picks up as she helps Marzi steady her hips as she pulls down her skirt fully. The lower half of her body is almost bare. Nikki feels like an old Victorian man coming across a woman’s bare ankle for the first time. Marzi looks satisfied, she loves seeing the bassist look so flustered.

Nikki is now face to face with those pastel pink panties. She doesn’t make a move, preferring to take in the sight in front of her. Those beautiful round white thighs that look so soft, perfect creamy skin ready to bite. Peel back the underwear and find out the carpet doesn’t actually match the drapes. What a fun sight it was to see for the first time. Nikki doesn’t remember it, but she actually gasped when they did it for the first time. She didn’t know why she was so surprised, those bright blue eyes gave it away in the first place. Still, it was her own little secret. The goth girl was actually a redhead. What a surprise. Now, she slowly takes off the pink underwear, basks in the sight of that red bush.

Her face is nearly buried between Marzi’s legs, and she gently pushes them farther apart. Then, she glances up. She’s watching her. The flush from her face slowly travelling to her chest. Marzi groans, lips apart. It takes her awhile to find the words.

“Nikki, please…I need it.” She whispered, voice thick with arousal. Nikki tried to hide the grin on her face.

With that, she gets to work, working her tongue Theo the folds, digger deeper and deeper. Marzi’s reactions always get to her. Her little moans and gasps, she writhes around and grinds her hips a little. Nikki holds her down, hands clamping down tight enough to stop their movements. Nikki moaned at the sight of it. Marzi letting go completely, becoming frenetic over the flick of her tongue. The vibration of the hum just sends Marzi into another frenzy. Nikki could tell she was getting worked up, getting close. Nikki stopped, removing her face from the depths of those ghost white thighs. Marzi whined and pouted at Nikki, wondering what the hold up was. She lets out a gasp and a hiccup when she feels one of Nikki’s dainty little fingers slide inside her. The sounds she made lights a fire in Nikki’s stomach.

She knows exactly how to get Marzi off, exactly what buttons to push. After countless of nights together, she’s refined the process to a tee. She starts slow, rubbing gently. She tried not to laugh at how impatient Marzi is. She grunts, frustrated and tries to grind her hips again. Nikki simply holds her down with her free hand, slapping a thigh as punishment. She’s not surprised at the moan that produced, she’s acutely aware of the thing she has for spanking. They’d have to discuss how to incorporate that one later on. Marzi pleads, her voice soft, but strained.

“Please.” “Harder, please.” “Oh Nikki, I need it now!”

Nikki complied, the heat in her stomach travelling downwards. Her pussy is throbbing now and she needs that sweet release. She nearly crumpled right then and there. She goes deeper, rubbing faster. She revels in the sounds she’s forcing out of Marzi. Moans turn into squeals, turn into little cries of pleasure. Finally, she squirts, hard. It’s a beautiful sight to behold. Her back arched slightly, her head tilted back, mouth wide open. Her icy blue eyes rolling to the back of her head. She moans so loud, Nikki is so sure the people next door could hear it. Everything about her is so obscene in this moment and Nikki loves it. Loves drinking her ecstasy in. She loves her beautiful, dirty girl.

Marzi’s eyes tear up as she catches her breath. The comedown is the best part for Nikki. She can’t take it anymore. Marzi’s face is flushed, a barely noticeable sheen of sweat on her forehead. Unprovoked, she slides her panties down until they’re off and then slowly works her shirt over her head. She throws the sullied clothes onto the floor and flops down on her back. She watches Nikki as she shimmies out her own pants and shoves a hand down her own underwear. Marzi, a picture of beauty. Long down hair fanning onto the pillow, chest heaving as she takes shallow breaths. She looked on in amusement as she watches Nikki slip into a frenzy of her own. Nikki replays those few minutes on repeat. Marzi, back arched and moaning. Whimpers and whines a melody in her head. Those big blue eyes rolling back in pleasure. She bites her lip as she rubs vigorously, rough and uncaring. She needs release now, screwing her eyes shut. She doesn’t care that this is the first time she’s been this pent up in front of Marzi. She doesn’t care if she watches or not.

That is, until she feels hands on her, cupping a tit, going lower. This is a first, it throws her off. Before she knows it, she too comes hard, hissing and cursing under her breath. Her heads swimming and all she feels is warm and electric. She finds herself slumping down next to Marzi, who grins at Nikki’s tired expression. That’s how she knows it was a good time, when Nikki is absolutely spent. She has to gently help her take off her pants, pulls her shirt off of her and settles in closer to her. They don’t clean up anything. Their sticky thighs don’t bother them.

Nikki holds Marzi as she slips in and out of consciousness. They’re both tired from performing both on and off stage. Nikki looks over at her guitarist, her eyes continuously flutters open and close. She doesn’t know why, but she wants to confront her.

“Do you really like feeling like this all the time?” She asked. She keeps her voice quiet, nonchalant. For a while there isn’t an answer and Nikki’s sure she’s fallen asleep. She doesn’t know when she’ll ever get another chance to talk about it. Then, Marzi lazily looks up at her.

“Fuck no…then again, does anyone?” She replied, with a question of her own. She sounded sleepy, like she’d fall asleep any moment. Nikki grimaced.

“Mars, I’m getting sober. I won’t be able to handle any of you pretty soon.” She informed her, slightly joking. She doesn’t want her to get upset. Like she was spoiling her fun.

“I know. I’m proud of you.”

“I think you should consider it too.”

Marzi frowned. Nikki wonders if she overstepped. As much as she wanted to help Marzi, get her to stop whatever it was she was doing, she knew it wasn’t up to her.

“But then we wouldn’t get to do this anymore.” She whispered, gesturing between the two of them. She sounded disappointed, which made Nikki almost laugh. How cute of her to be worried that all this would disappear.

While she did wonder at times if any of this would have happened had Marzi been sober the first time around. Would either of them been able to work up the courage to make the first move, without the booze or drugs? Nikki doesn’t want to think about it. They’ve gone too far now to just stop. She didn’t want it to stop.

“We can still do this, I want to. I’ve wanted this for so long, I can’t give this up.” Nikki reassured her, looking down and caressing her cheek. Marzi blushed, looking away. Nikki loved how bashful she got, it was especially funny after she’d just torn her apart and sewn her back together just a couple of minutes ago.

“I hope you’re right.” She finally replied, getting as close as possible to Nikki. She’s facing her, her face buried in her chest. Nikki chuckles as she too snuggled closer, arm draped over her waist.

“You bet I am, you’re stuck with me now.” She mumbled as she finds herself slowly getting sucked into a deep sleep.

As always, she’s letting Marzi get her way.

(anyways like I said, send ur hate for this little thing to my dms…I literally wrote this in a hazy little frenzy idc to edit this I think this explains everything wrong with me. still, I enjoyed every bit of this and where else to post this but the cringiest site on the internet. I need u ppl to post more fem!crüe smut so I don’t have to do it anymore because it’ll only get worse from here. idc if no one reads this since I’ve been posting most of my stuff for myself. ok I’ll stop talking now, thanks if you read this thanks if you don’t, BYE!!)

#motley crue fanfiction #fem!crüe #crüe headcanons #nikkimick #but make it fem #smut #not sfw #terrorizing the tl with my brainrot

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notfivefives · 2 years ago

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Prompt fill #6 for my @badthingshappenbingo card, requested by @sharkluv. Thank you so much for the ask! This is not the story I was expecting to write (like, at all), but I really enjoyed working on it. I hope you enjoy reading it! Also tagging @rain-on-kamino!

Prompt Filled: Manhandling

Fandom: Star Wars: The Bad Batch

Title: Salvage

Characters: Crosshair, Hunter, Wrecker, and Tech

Word Count: 2,033

Summary: Crosshair’s chip doesn’t trigger during Order 66, but the rest of The Batch’s do. Crosshair disobeys an order.

Chapter: 1/1

Warnings: Non-canonical character deaths, forced ( but nondescript) medical treatment

My BTHB Card

Read below the cut or on AO3

The walk from the Marauder to their quarters is like a funeral procession. Crosshair trails his three brothers - They are still his brothers, aren't they? - and after they enter their quarters, the door slides shut with a finality Crosshair can’t recall ever noticing before.

He crosses the distance to his bunk just like he has after countless other missions, but Wrecker isn’t boisterously recounting the high notes of the mission and he hasn’t carved a hash mark on the wall to commemorate their victory.

And it is a victory, Crosshair decides; he's just unsure why.

He neatly stows his equipment and sets his rifle on the common table, relieved when the heft of it no longer puts demands on his wounded shoulder. He will see to that later, once the others are asleep or absent. For now, he’ll clean his weapon because that’s what he always does. And he will keep Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker in his periphery and he will try not to think too much about why Echo isn’t with them. When he turns to get his cleaning kit, Hunter approaches him. Crosshair straightens and studies Hunter as intently as he is studying him.

“You should let me take a look at that,” Hunter says as he inclines his head toward the singed plastoid at the intersection of Crosshair’s chest plate and right pauldron.

“Nothing to look at.”

Where there might usually have been a dubious smile on Hunter’s face, there isn’t now. There is a tightness around his eyes and something sharp and unyielding there instead.

“I’m fine.” Crosshair’s words come out icily, and they would be convincing if Hunter wasn’t the one listening. But Hunter’s privy to every electromagnetic pulse and vibration, scent, and every other type of sensory input that slips beneath the notice of most. Crosshair has never envied Hunter the intensity of his senses, never wished to know the reek of a battlefield the way Hunter must. But that doesn’t stop Crosshair from cursing Hunter in the privacy of his own mind and loathing him just a little bit for not shutting things out, for not shutting it off. For just knowing.

“Is that why your heart rate just jumped, and why I can smell the stink of infection?”

Damn.

“Leave it alone.”

Crosshair narrows his eyes and focuses on the deep, ceaseless pain, wills it to temper his resolve. He itches to be anywhere but under Hunter’s scrutiny. He traces the tip of his tongue along the backs of his teeth, quelling the urge to reach for a toothpick.

“I need you functional,” Hunter presses as he takes a step closer to Crosshair and reaches toward him.

Crosshair takes a clipped but still-graceful step away from Hunter and scoffs. The derisive noise is louder than he intends and he can feel Tech and Wrecker’s eyes on him. They’re not listening to an argument with interest or waiting to throw their opinions into it. They’re just watching, waiting. The instinctive thing Crosshair has been feeling since Koller lurches into clarity.

He is outnumbered.

“I said leave it alone, Hunter.”

Crosshair can see a minuscule twitch in Hunter’s jawline, and his expression grows harder. Just like it had on Koller before-

Crosshair shakes off the memory and sidesteps Hunter and avoids the temptation to punctuate his disdain by checking Hunter’s shoulder with his own. No use in causing himself more pain.

He wants out of this room, and he wants away from his batch. Hunter grasps Crosshair’s forearm and Crosshair wrenches away. That ignites fresh agony in his shoulder and he sucks in air through his teeth. He reaches for the wound, but stops short and puts his arm back down at his side, straightens, and looks from Hunter to Tech to Wrecker, then back at Hunter, trying to gauge how much weakness he just displayed.

“Don’t touch me,” he says. The threat in his voice grows jagged and brittle with each syllable.

He walks toward the door and the blood rushing in his ears and the hair pricking at the nape of his neck tell him the same cold, clear truth.

You should be running.

Crosshair makes it two steps before he hears Hunter say Wrecker’s name.

“Right,” Wrecker says. There’s eagerness in his tone that’s familiar but wrong and for once Crosshair wishes Wrecker was as slow as some people - idiots mostly - thought he was.

Crosshair makes it another two and a half steps before Wrecker is between him and the door. Silently, Hunter falls into place behind him, and Crosshair can feel him there, the trigger in a trap that is ready to slam shut.

Tech hasn’t moved; he’s watching proceedings, assessing them from behind the yellow lenses of his goggles. Crosshair doesn’t doubt Tech can tell him the precise likelihood he’ll make it out of their quarters, but he doesn’t have to. Crosshair knows it’s laughably slim.

“Get out of my way, Wrecker.”

Wrecker moves his head back and forth and raises his hands, palms outward, ready to catch Crosshair or fight him if it comes to that. Crosshair bends at the knees and flexes his fingers, and he realizes it will come to that.

And he doesn’t know why.

“Enough,” Hunter warns. “Remove your kit. Let us treat the wound. Now. That’s an order.”

An order.

This isn’t a professional disagreement or a fraternal spat. Hunter’s words are absolute and Crosshair feels as though he’s being tracked through the scope of someone else’s rifle. He glances back at Hunter without looking away from Wrecker completely. Hunter’s expression is hard and direct. Expectant. Hunter’s esteem for his own rank is inconvenient at best and unnerving at worst.

Crosshair followed orders every day of his life. He followed them to complete missions, to win. He followed them because it was in his very marrow to do so. Freedom from choice has always been a mercy - though the rest of The Batch would never admit it, not even Tech - but before today, that mercy has never felt like slow suffocation.

When Hunter reaches for his arm again, Crosshair disobeys.

He swings back at Hunter’s head with his elbow. He knows it's a bad move.

Hunter catches his arm easily and twists it behind him. The countermeasure hurts, but it’s not hard enough to be cruel. Maybe Hunter is still in there somewhere after all. Crosshair wants to believe that. He suddenly, desperately needs to believe that, but he contorts in Hunter’s grip and viciously curses as Hunter’s hold tightens.

“What are you doing?” He tries his best to bury his pain and the spike of fear with indignation as he tries to pull away. “Don’t touch me.”

Then Wrecker is there and Hunter hands him off as casually as he would an ammo cartridge.

“We’re going to help you, Crosshair.” It’s the closest thing to patronization Crosshair has ever heard in Wrecker’s voice and he hates it. Lula is lying discarded on the floor, half buried under an old panel that Tech had likely been using for one project or another between missions. The tooka, with her red eyes and forlorn lip lipline, is the only thing in the room that feels familiar.

Crosshair turns away from the doll and futilely tests the constraints of Wrecker’s arms.

“I can help myse-”

“Bring him to the table,” Hunter orders. He’s crouched next to Echo’s bunk searching out the med kit Echo keeps there.

Wrecker nudges Crosshair in that direction, letting him know compliance is a good idea. He digs his heels into the durasteel beneath him and pushes back hard. He may as well be trying to move a wall.

"No," Crosshair says. He can hear the ragged edge of desperation wearing at his own voice as he lunges back toward the door. Wrecker holds him tight.

He tries to crush Wrecker’s instep, but he only catches armor and there’s no indication Wrecker even noticed. He’s only managed to send new pain screaming through his shoulder, but he bites back on the agony and struggles.

It makes no difference.

Crosshair cries out in surprise when Wrecker tugs backward, using his own weight against him. Wrecker keeps him from falling flat on his ass, but panic lances through him when he can’t get his feet beneath him again. His boots stutter pathetically on the floor, but that ceases when Wrecker hauls him up and toward the table.

“No!” He’s struggling now, writhing without regard for how frantic and ineffectual it is. “Let me fucking go!”

With dizzying speed, Wrecker lifts him and hefts him onto the tabletop. The back of Crosshair’s head hits the table. It’s enough force to stun, but not enough to do any harm, and in the fleet seconds it takes Crosshair’s mind to catch up to what’s happened, Wrecker has both of his wrists in one massive hand, pinning them over his sternum. Wrecker’s other hand forces his left leg down by the thigh.

“This outburst is unnecessary,” Tech says as he takes his place on the side opposite Wrecker. There’s something like commiseration in Tech’s words, but there’s callous interest in his eyes.

Crosshair drives his unrestrained knee up toward Tech, but Tech anticipates the attack and catches his leg with quick hands.

“You should cooperate,” Tech grunts. He shoves Crosshair’s leg back down and Crosshair takes petty satisfaction in the disapproval on Tech’s face.

“You should let me go.” Crosshair says, breathless and caustic. Wrecker laughs at that. It’s not booming or jovial. It’s the distant rumble of a storm.

Crosshair bucks beneath their hands, all lean muscle, obscenities and fear. He thrashes harder when Hunter sets the medkit by his head. He looks down at Crosshair, dour but thoughtful.

“Where are you going to go, Crosshair?” he asks as he begins to remove Crosshair’s armor.

Crosshair shouts. Neither the harsh sound nor the rage behind it makes his brothers flinch; it doesn’t make them do anything at all. They all know the answer. By the time Hunter is satisfied with the amount of armor he’s taken away, Crosshair is panting and his limbs are trembling from the strain.

Hunter draws his vibroknife from its sheath and Crosshair’s eyes go wide. He stills and groans involuntarily when he sees the honed, glinting blade in Hunter’s skilled hand.

It’s been cleaned since its last use.

General Bilaba’s padawan had been fast. So fast, Crosshair’s first shot following Hunter’s order had gone wide, and his second one had struck him after it had been deflected back at him by the padawan’s lightsaber. He’d lifted the butt of his blaster rifle to his left shoulder instead of his right and found Hunter in his scope, advancing on Dume. One elegantly efficient move put a burst of crimson on Koller’s snow-covered ground. The roar of the falls had been the only sound.

Crosshair shakes his head and jerks helplessly.

“Shh,” Hunter says without sympathy or warmth. Crosshair is frozen while Hunter cuts away the dark gray underlayer. The blade separates the fabric with awful ease, then Hunter sheaths it without any flourish.

A hypo comes after that. Crosshair tries to flinch away, but it still finds its way into his shoulder, and as the pain abates, Hunter works slowly and methodically, cleaning and dressing and bandaging until he seems satisfied that Crosshair would still be of use to him. To this nascent Empire.

Crosshair’s mind feels slow and his chest feels tight. He doesn’t even have the energy to move after Tech releases his hold on his leg. Tech scans him and shows Hunter with an unconcerned shrug. If Crosshair is on trial, perhaps this small jury has already come to its judgment.

The pressure Wrecker’s been putting on him lets up. When breathing comes more easily, he rolls his head to the side and looks at Echo’s empty bunk.

“Where’s Echo?” He rasps. “Where’s the reg?”

“CT-1409 was in violation of Order 66,” Tech says, as though it explains everything. “But perhaps, with some re-education, you can be salvaged.”

Hunter nods as he packs away Echo’s medkit.

Crosshair doesn’t fight as Wrecker helps him into his bunk.

He curls on his side and drifts.

#bad things happen bingo #Star Wars: The Bad Batch #manhandling #sharkluv #rain-on-kamino #bthb #crosshair #hunter #wrecker #tech #order 66 #with my sincerest apologies to Echo and Caleb #tried this one in the present tense #this was not the story i expected to write

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