Post by the_who on Nov 24, 2008 22:01:21 GMT -5
(rated M.)
Gone.
He gaped, breath coming through his chest like life itself, a gift filling him. He wrapped his legs around the body, clawing the back as he moaned. He was turned around, her arms across his waist.
Hands flittered up his chest, then lips down his back. He jerked, reaching behind him.
Woman staring at a plush. A plain, stitched plush of tan hue. Tears dripped unto it, and she held it close.
He squeezed his eyes at the memory, and erased it by leaning his head back, listening to wild moans. The two stumbled back, into a wall, and he gasped for breath, jerking as she reached for his thighs, running her nails across them.
A woman at the window, searching for ghosts. A young boy staring at her from behind a corner, then looking away, biting his lip, whimpering as he leane against the wall. The plush hung limp in the woman's arms.
He moaned as she rubbed against him, her breath hot against his antenna. He reached his hand behind his head, running them wildly through her hair.
Staring at her. He watched his partner, sitting up late at night at the kitchen table, the plush in her hands. He entered the room to comfort her, but she bit her lip, and turned her head away, muffling a sob.
He turned around, kissing her desperately, lips creating a trail down her. She gasped and panted, moaning as he rubbed her back, forcing her into the wall, feeling her. Her soft flesh.
Car screeching, screaming, watching as she raced into the street, crowd gathering....
A year... it'd been a year... and here they were... the past finally burried. A young boy glanced around the corner, and stared at his parents, then looked away, leaning against the wall. He took a shuddering breath, but knew things with his mother were finally right again. Knew things would be okay.
And with that, he left their room, feeling numb, his seven-year old black eyes staring at the ground as memories passed through his mind.
"SAKURA!" he screamed hoarsely, and the little girl looked up. She grinned, her green flesh glowing in the sunlight, long black hair fluttering across her shoulders. He screamed her name again, panicking, running, and she showed him their ball, grinning, proud that she had retrieved it.
The screech of wheels on pavement, and he watched as blood soaked the black granite. The woman's head turned at the sound, and released a scream. Junsui stared with large black eyes, gaping.
He leaned against the wall, slumping to the ground, shaking his head. "Out... out...." he demanded of his memories. His antennas furled, and he clutched his arms tight.
But everything would be okay....
Zim came home as soon as he got the call, and found her still at the scene. No one could touch the crying woman, cradling close a bloody small child. His son stood on the sidelines, traumatized.
He walked forward slowly, in shock, and kneeled beside his partner. He stared at the limp little girl, who stared up with dead eyes, the plush usually clutched so tight in her hand slipping from her limp fingers. And the world seemed to stand still, paralyzed.
Taifu gaped as their bodies merged, and writhed, clinging to him at the same time as they collapsed unto the floor, caught in ecstacy. A year. A long year.
"She's gone...."
The tears, for him, refused to come.
"Z-Zim?" she stammered between moans, watching as tears ran down his cheeks. She pulled off of him as he let out a moan of anguish.
"Sakura... my Sakura...."
Gone.
(About their second child, who dies at age four.)
Gone.
He gaped, breath coming through his chest like life itself, a gift filling him. He wrapped his legs around the body, clawing the back as he moaned. He was turned around, her arms across his waist.
Hands flittered up his chest, then lips down his back. He jerked, reaching behind him.
Woman staring at a plush. A plain, stitched plush of tan hue. Tears dripped unto it, and she held it close.
He squeezed his eyes at the memory, and erased it by leaning his head back, listening to wild moans. The two stumbled back, into a wall, and he gasped for breath, jerking as she reached for his thighs, running her nails across them.
A woman at the window, searching for ghosts. A young boy staring at her from behind a corner, then looking away, biting his lip, whimpering as he leane against the wall. The plush hung limp in the woman's arms.
He moaned as she rubbed against him, her breath hot against his antenna. He reached his hand behind his head, running them wildly through her hair.
Staring at her. He watched his partner, sitting up late at night at the kitchen table, the plush in her hands. He entered the room to comfort her, but she bit her lip, and turned her head away, muffling a sob.
He turned around, kissing her desperately, lips creating a trail down her. She gasped and panted, moaning as he rubbed her back, forcing her into the wall, feeling her. Her soft flesh.
Car screeching, screaming, watching as she raced into the street, crowd gathering....
A year... it'd been a year... and here they were... the past finally burried. A young boy glanced around the corner, and stared at his parents, then looked away, leaning against the wall. He took a shuddering breath, but knew things with his mother were finally right again. Knew things would be okay.
And with that, he left their room, feeling numb, his seven-year old black eyes staring at the ground as memories passed through his mind.
"SAKURA!" he screamed hoarsely, and the little girl looked up. She grinned, her green flesh glowing in the sunlight, long black hair fluttering across her shoulders. He screamed her name again, panicking, running, and she showed him their ball, grinning, proud that she had retrieved it.
The screech of wheels on pavement, and he watched as blood soaked the black granite. The woman's head turned at the sound, and released a scream. Junsui stared with large black eyes, gaping.
He leaned against the wall, slumping to the ground, shaking his head. "Out... out...." he demanded of his memories. His antennas furled, and he clutched his arms tight.
But everything would be okay....
Zim came home as soon as he got the call, and found her still at the scene. No one could touch the crying woman, cradling close a bloody small child. His son stood on the sidelines, traumatized.
He walked forward slowly, in shock, and kneeled beside his partner. He stared at the limp little girl, who stared up with dead eyes, the plush usually clutched so tight in her hand slipping from her limp fingers. And the world seemed to stand still, paralyzed.
Taifu gaped as their bodies merged, and writhed, clinging to him at the same time as they collapsed unto the floor, caught in ecstacy. A year. A long year.
"She's gone...."
The tears, for him, refused to come.
"Z-Zim?" she stammered between moans, watching as tears ran down his cheeks. She pulled off of him as he let out a moan of anguish.
"Sakura... my Sakura...."
Gone.
(About their second child, who dies at age four.)