#forwards beckon rebound was kind of supposed to be like

[meownotgood]

I was wondering… have you ever thought about writing a machine herald fic, where he still has his organic pp intact? Idk, a lot of nsfw fics with men with mechanically altered bodies tend to have their man parts replaced with a robotic one. My horny ass likes to imagine Viktor who’s ofc done all these mechanical augmentations to himself, but has still kept his original dick, because he hasn’t denied himself sexual pleasure as his (probably) last part of his human side. This of course clashes a lot with his world view and his character, but hey, a girl can dream! Don’t know if this makes any sense but yeah wanted to ask you how you would feel about this. Have a nice day and happy new year, looking forward to your next fic! :)

yes!! thank you for reading my fics :D and okay for me I'm like. half the time I want to see what that mechanical dick can do. but the other half. there's definitely something so intimate about it when most of vik's body he's replaced with mechanics. in my last machine herald fic (forwards beckon rebound) I was attempting to imply he still has that part intact, he's kind of like more human than he is trying to appear in a way

it's definitely something I'd be inclined to write someday. the machine herald fic I'm currently working on probably (don't quote me) won't have any actual sex because in this one vik is implied to be much more mechanical... but... yes, I definitely see your vision anon

[milliesfishes]

⋆౨ৎThe Sea Is Boundless and So Are We⋆౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: angst, panic attack pairing: finnick odair x fem reader summary: you have a breakdown and Finnick comforts you author’s note: first Finnick fic! I hope I did it right <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Salt spray stung your eyes as you kicked off your sandals, shifting your feet into the grainy sand, warm from a day's worth of the sun's attention. Waves were lapping at the shore, foam left behind like a crown each time the water retreated and rebounded. Sunset shot colors across the sea's reflection like a splayed hand, holding your gaze for a moment before you began the trek forward.

It was a routine you had never set, but you found yourself doing it every night anyways. After the stresses and tensions of the day clawed at your mind, the ocean was the only thing that could ease it. You supposed it was your homeland bound to you, beckoning with open arms. This was where you felt most at ease- you would have buried yourself in the sand and let the water eat at your body if you could.

Tonight, it was different. Tonight, the reason you'd discarded your shoes and went to walk along the jagged shoreline was paramount, worse than any of your miniscule trials from times before. You'd abandoned the envelope on the kitchen counter, flinging the door open before another thought could cross your mind.

Footprints sunk into the sand as you trudged to the water, hoping it would give you some kind of relief, like a life force you merely needed to come back to every once in awhile. Words echoed back and forth across your mind, like objects sliding across the surface of a rocking boat.

From the moment your name had been called at the Reaping, your senses had been heightened, unfortunately including the choking vines of anxiety. It had only worsened in training, climaxed when you were in the arena. Here in the feigned safety of the aftermath, you were dealing with the consequences. You tried to reassure yourself that this kind of news would upset anybody, but it only made you feel worse. This was how the world was. Your tired, stretched-thin mind couldn't seem to get that through.

A shout of your name disturbed your peace, and you tore your eyes from the rolling waves, turning around. The dress you wore tangled around your calves with the gentle breeze, hair following the same path. In the distance you could see a familiar silhouette, lifting a single hand and waving.

You recognized him. Of course you did. Even if his figure was blackened by the shade and buried underwater you would know.

Jogging forward, Finnick slowly but surely made his way over, the sand hindering what would have been swift movements otherwise. He must have come to the door of your home and seen it ajar, guessing the only other place you would be. As he approached, you could see the worry causing the sea blue in his eyes to darken with a storm, his golden hair messy as if he'd run his hands through it. You made no move to reach for him. What was the point if you would be forced to let go sooner than you wanted to?

He grasped at your arms once they were in reach, golden fingers probing at your smooth skin. "Baby...hey...I know it seems bad-"

"Bad?" Your voice was dry and he winced at it just a little. Looking away with some difficulty, you swallowed your tears. "They're sending you back. This is worse than bad."

"I know, I know." Finnick attempted to pull you into him, console you the way he'd done a million times before, but you resisted, lifting your gaze back up to him.

"How many times before they're satisfied?" you whispered, voice edging on a sob. "You're tied to them...they...they'll only keep pulling you back again and again and again."

"It's the Capitol's way," he said firmly, but not with anger. When Finnick got like this, he was steady as the cliffs above, your rock through and through. "Honey...I can't say no."

"Why?" You said it so desperately that he bowed his head briefly. Now you were moving in, tugging at his shirt. "Why do you let them ship you off? Why do you let them make you do such horrible things?"

Finnick's hand found your back, the warmth of his palm pressing into your spine. It was a tactic he'd used all through your training, resuming when you returned from your victory with a mentality worse than death. You were so upset now that you almost didn't want it to work, but of course it did.

He gently brought you into his chest, your cheek against his heart. Finnick held your head there with his other hand, taking in purposefully deep breaths so you'd follow his lead. A salty tear slipped from your eye and he let it soak into his shirt. The action opened the floodgates, and now you were really crying, rivers on your cheeks streaming like rain on a windowpane.

When you choked out an apology, he shook his head, adjusting you in his arms so his body blocked the wind, engulfing you deep into him. "It was your tears or the sea, baby. I'd take the first any day."

You felt your knees buckle as emotion overwhelmed you, feeling like you were drowning. But Finnick caught wind of it, ever your rescuer. He knelt in the sand, never once letting go as he let you cry helplessly into his shoulder.

How many times had you been in this exact position with him? It was a number you hadn't bothered to keep track of, knowing it would happen again and again. Every time you shattered, he gathered up the pieces, setting them back in place and kissing the crooked lines of your scars.

Rubbing your back, he murmured sweet assurances into your hair, holding you tight. He didn't want to let go either, you knew. In all your sorrow you'd forgotten. He was leaving you, but he was leaving you. It hurt him just as much, he cried just as many tears over it, though you knew most didn't make it to your skin, just the pillow in the room he kept at the Capitol. A room he spent as much time in as possible, for it was the only place he wasn't forced to perform in every way.

To everyone there, he was a service. A machine that had but one function. To flirt and be used, to wear the image they thrust on him. It was nothing like the man you knew, the one who kissed you so sweet it made you melt, who made promises bare under bedsheets. He loved you, he loved you, he loved you.

Every time he was summoned, you hoped it would be the last time. But then in a few months, another request was made, and he penned another letter to you, instructions written on the envelope not to open it until he was gone. The words inside would comfort you when he was far from your presence. He hadn't even gotten the chance to tell you in person first this time- you'd flipped through your mail, seen his handwriting and just known.

Finnick loosened his grip on you just a little, pressing a soft kiss into your hair. "It's gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay."

You shook your head, half hoping if you convinced him it wouldn't be okay that he'd stay. But life persisted, you were forced to keep living, and you were deemed fine because you had to be. And after every bout without him, you were left with nothing but the knowledge that you could survive outside his orbit, something you wished wasn't true. Paired with that, dread that another summons would arrive, closer to his return home than the previous one.

Pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes found yours, searching and soothing. "You'll remember your breathing, okay? Yeah? And I'll be right back here with you before you know it. It'll be like I was never gone." It wouldn't. You both knew that. You both knew an ache would instill the second you parted ways, two souls never meant to be apart.

"Please don't," you whispered, a final hopeless plea. Clinging to his shirt, you squeezed your eyes shut. "Don't go. Just tell them no. Tell them you can't this time."

"Baby, they're gonna hurt you if I don't," he murmured, stroking your hair again. "I'll die before I let them hurt you."

You let out a gasping sob, and he nodded, folding himself around you again. "Shh, I've got you. I've got you." Securing a hand over the top of your head, he whispered, "You're safe. I'm here."

Hand reaching up, you found the shell he wore on a cord around his neck, a smooth, creamy thing you'd found on a lazy day with him walking on the beach. Finnick called it his good luck charm and had shown up the next day with it on a necklace. You'd never seen him without it since.

It was your object of comfort now, as you leaned against his chest and grasped it, rubbing your thumb over the smooth underside. Steadily, you could feel yourself begin to calm down, the storm in your heart quelling to a careful breeze. Suddenly you were back to earth sheathed in Finnick's arms, the only safe place in the world. Your ears stopped ringing, everything caught up and you took in a breath that didn't shake.

"There you go," he murmured, rocking back and forth. "It's okay, baby. It's okay."

It wasn't okay. None of it was. You thought helplessly about how unfair everything had turned out. The two of you had been through the unimaginable and come out the other side. But the story didn't end there. And now the man you loved was a tool in the hands of the same people who continued to torture you long after the last person in the arena was slain.

Finnick rubbed your back gently, his touch an antidote. He kissed your forehead, lips lingering, nose buried in your hairline. "Pretty girl. My pretty girl." His cheek rested on the top of your head. "Sometimes I wonder why you chose me?"

Despite yourself, you breathed a laugh, and he smiled. As if Finnick didn't know how good looking he was. The world reminded him often, but you never saw him light up so much as when you did.

Tenderly holding you, tethering you to him as the rock in your storm, Finnick lightly trailed his lips over your face, as if he were kissing the bright side of the moon. He ended on your mouth, staying there as long as he could. You could have mistaken his eyes for stars, his touch for a sunbeam.

He pulled you in from the treacherous waters in your heart, tucking you into his side as he swam through them himself.

A devotion sealed in kisses, a cradle in his arms.

[strangesthirdeye]

ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ sᴛᴀʀ ɴᴇᴡ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ (ɪɴᴇғғᴀʙʟᴇ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅs x ᴛᴏᴅᴅʟᴇʀ ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

Summary: Little Star got a new friend.

Warning: IT'S INEFFABLE HUSBANDS! fluff, sweet, pet, Crowley being supportive dad, Aziraphale being Aziraphale. No episode 6 allows.

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"and what are you hiding in your shirt, my dear?" Aziraphale raised his eyebrows at you after you entered the bookshop after walking in the park with your Daddy.

Crowley remained silent. You looked up at your Papa with an innocent face. Hands holding something in your shirt in a tight hug.

"Nothing!" you spoke with a sweet smile of hope that Papa Aziraphale did not suspect anything.

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. "And what did I say about lying?" Aziraphale crossed his arms, mimicking that he was disappointed.

You looked down ashamed. "That's not good" you murmured.

Aziraphale smiles genuinely at you. "That's true. Now," he kneeled in front of you. "What are you hiding in this little shirt of yours?"

"it's-.. uh"

"Star's new friend" Crowley interrupted.

Aziraphale looked at Crowley confused. "new friend? who?"

"Kitty!" you took out the black kitten that was meowing.

Aziraphale was shocked. "Oh dear," he muttered.

You looked at your Papa pleadingly. "Can we keep it, Papa?"

"well.. it's a.. It's kind of cute but i don't think that-"

"oh, come on, Angel! It's just a kitten. Cats are usually lazy around and do nothing. It's not like they're going to damage books here" Crowley exclaimed. His hand petting your head.

Aziraphale hesitated as he watched your pleading face in front of him. He didn't have the courage to say no upon looking at your small face. His daughter.. His little Star that he and Crowley miraculously made. Crowley smirked at him. That damn smirk that Aziraphale fell in love with the first time he met Crowley 6 thousand years ago.

Now he hates that smirk makes his angel's heart beat faster. He doesn't like animals near his books in this bookshop. Not to mention whenever Crowley changed himself into a snake, he always scolded Crowley for not being close to his books. His precious books.

Now that it was you, he couldn't have any strength to protest.

"can we keep it, papa? i- i promise that i will take care of it and not let it near the books here" you pleaded by hugging the kitten tightly. The kitten just looked at Aziraphale with its yellow eyes.

Aziraphale sighed in defeat. "alright, we can keep it as long as it doesn't cause trouble" Aziraphale smiles at your happy face.

You put down the kitten and rushed for was to hug your Papa. "thank you papa!"

Crowley whistled. "That was pretty quick" Crowley muttered. He didn't expect Aziraphale to give in to you so quickly. Let alone let you take care of the kittens at the bookshop. He is still not satisfied that Aziraphale scolded him when he turned into a snake.

But then again, it's you he's thinking about. If he were in Aziraphale's place, surely he would also give in to you. He just couldn't see your upset little face.

"right, I suppose we need to prepare the needs of this kitten" Aziraphale suggested.

"It-"

"It is male, star" Crowley spoke. You looked at your daddy beaming.

"I want to name him, Moon!" you beamed

Aziraphale chuckled. "I think that's a good name. Little star and her moon. Perfect" Aziraphale stroke the kitten's head softly.

Moon sniffed Aziraphale's finger before letting Aziraphale stroke his head. Moon meowed at him. Crowley looked at Moon frowning.

"right, I think we need to go to the pet store.. You know? can't let him defecate here" Crowley looked around the bookshop. The key to the Bentley was clutched in his hand.

Upon hearing that, Aziraphale got up quickly. You looked at Moon excitedly.

"right, well we should go now" Aziraphale took his coat and walked out with you tailing behind him with Moon in your arms.

"Let's go!" you exclaimed. Moon meowed.

Crowley followed you and Aziraphale to the Bentley. Slightly glared at the kitten in your hand. Moon hissed.

Let just say, that Moon scratched Crowley's hand with a warning when Crowley and you first met him. Probably that cat knows that he is a demon? We don't know.