#bleach is on again so. I'll probably have things to say

[thatlittledandere]

God DAMN. The second cour of Blood War started today and I decided to jump on the weekly broadcast even though the dub isn't out yet because well. I watch the dub for one actor, basically, and I figured Ichigo's human friends were probably not gonna show up much in this arc. WELL GUESS WHO'S HERE.

[drmaddict]

Spooky Girl

Summary: Ghost, Soap, Rudy and König have a girlfriend who just likes things, that are a bit spooky. (Just a few little scenes that my brain spit out.)

Wordcount: 2.497

Ghost

"Are you growing your hair out, L.T.?" Johnny laughed and flicked Simon's wrist.

Simon reacted as expected. Not at all. He stared at Johnny motionlessly.

"Fits the look, after all.", the sergeant winked at him.

Simon rolled his eyes and pulled his sleeve over the hairband on his wrist.

Johnny continued to grin. "My sisters say these scrunchies are best for the hair. There's less friction. So no split ends."

 Simon continued to stare at him.

"Are you going to tell me why you've got that thing on?", he grumbled.

"No.", was Simon's simple answer before he turned back to his food. It was nobody's business. (Y/n) was nobody's business, or what was between them.  It was still too fresh anyway. This was his first mission since they had met. He wasn't sure what to make of this relationship yet. He liked her. It wasn't because of that. He was just too used to being alone. It scared him. His therapist would probably have found a bigger, more important-sounding word for his emotions, but fear seemed appropriate enough to Simon.

She was weird. He was weird too. He had started to like the weirdness. He was probably too old for her. Maybe he wasn't. He'd never been in a relationship. He'd never had to discuss the fact that his hoodies were actually HIS hoodies until a few months ago. She had only told him that they were hers now, as if that was the most normal thing in the world. But she looked really cute in them. She'd beamed at him when he'd unceremoniously thrown three of his hoodies on her bed. 

"Until I get back.", he'd mumbled.

She had then pulled her hairband off her head and put it around his wrist. The black satin with the little skulls on it was soft and had immediately clung to his skin.

"So that you'll really come back.", she had said and kissed him on the forehead.

"Always.", he had mumbled.

 "Who is she?" Johnny asked him directly. He looked at him with gentle playfulness.

Simon snapped out of his memory. He looked into his friend's blue eyes.  "You don't trust me with a 'he'?", he grinned under his mask.

"Well then HE definitely has long hair."

Simon shook his head in amusement. "A little one from home. It's still fresh."

"Photo?", Johnny continued to grin.

Simon shook his head.

"Oh come on!"

"No Johnny."

Johnny looked at him like a petulant puppy. "At least describe her.", he sulked.

Simon sighed and rummaged for a small photo in his pocket. The boy wouldn't stop anyway. He plonked it in front of the sergent and stared at it.

Johnny stared at the photo. "A goth chick?" Johnny reached for the photo, but Simon immediately pulled it back to him and put it away. Johnny looked at him in surprise. "Hot.", he grinned.

Simon just grumbled.

"Yes, I get it. I can see it. You fit together."

Another grumble.

 Johnny grinned like an idiot.

"What?", Simon snapped at him.

"Does she have a friend?"

Simon just rolled his eyes. His cell phone buzzed.

A message from (Y/n). When he opened the message history, he saw a picture of a rabbit skull.

'For your collection?' it said underneath.

Simon looked at the picture. He had been glad, that she didn't see his little hobby as disgusting. But that she was now also participating in it. It was a beautiful bone. Completely intact.

'Beautiful. Where did you get it?‘

'Judas picked it up on our walk.‘

Judas was her dog. A stubborn but tough creature. It was probably her type. 

'Put it on the ant farm. I'll bleach him when I come back next week.‘

'The three of us are waiting for you. ;)'

When he looked up again, Johnny was still grinning at him.

"The little one really has you wrapped around her finger."

Simon just raised an eyebrow.

"Good for you L.T."

Simon grumbled in agreement.

Soap

"What magazine did you cut that out of?" Kyle laughed.

Soap pulled off his boots. "Huh?" he groaned and looked at his friend.

Kyle pointed to Johnny's locker page and the photo hanging in it.

Johnny followed Kyle's suggestion with his gaze and immediately furrowed his eyebrows. "That's my girlfriend you douche!"

"That's never your girlfriend! She's far too pretty... Apart from the fetish make-up."

Johnny threw his boot at Gaz. "Don't talk about my girl like that!", he growled.

Gaz raised his hands defensively. A grin stretched across his face. "Oh come on."

Johnny continued to scowl at him. Simon came into the changing room and looked at them both wordlessly. Without another comment, he went to his locker.

"How can you always train with that thing on your head?", Johnny asked him.

"Habit.", came the curt reply.

Johnny rolled his eyes as Gaz clapped his hands with a laugh. "So you've got a type!"

Johnny looked at him in confusion. Simon paid him no attention at all. 

"Dark and intimidating," Garrick winked at him and nodded towards Simon.

Johnny followed his gaze and a blush immediately appeared on his cheeks.

"I don't have a type!", he barked.

Gaz chuckled in amusement. "Sure."

Simon slammed his locker shut conspicuously loudly and disappeared just as wordlessly as he had come.

The two of them looked after him.

"She's very different from him.", Johnny grumbled immediately.

"Is she?"

"Yes, she's very reserved, but when you get to know her better, she's really funny. She likes to tell jokes, you know? Even if she's more into dark humor. And she likes her order, but accepts my chaos and she's not immediately put off by my job. Well, she goes to therapy, but she's actually really tough."

"Where did you two meet?"

"At a shooting range for my brother-in-law's stag party. She's really amazing. She could almost be a sniper and..." Johnny eyes widened.

Gaz grinned knowingly.

"Oh God! I'm dating L.T.!" Johnny exclaimed, overwhelmed.

"Really, how did you notice?"

Johnny threw his second boot at him. "What if I'm just trying to replace something with her?", he asked anxiously.

Now Gaz looked at him, confused. "What now?"

"Well... What if I subconsciously just saw her as a replacement. God I'm such an asshole."

"How many times did you try to enroll before you were finally eighteen?", Gaz asked him firmly.

"I stopped counting. What's that got to do with it?"

Gaz shrugged his shoulders. "You're nuts, but you know what you want. You've never accepted an alternative before."

Johnny looked at the photo in the locker. "No I never have."

Gaz nodded. "You clearly have a thing for mentally unstable Halloween decorations, but that doesn't mean you only want the girl as a substitute."

Johnny nodded. "Yeah, you're right. She's really great, you know?"

Gaz grinned. "I'll take your word for it."

"She always makes chocolate muffins, that look like the little coal men from Chihiro.", Johnny smiled at the photo. "And she can cook! I really put some weight on the last time, I was with her. It's almost like the good old times at grandmas.", he grinned to himself. "Even if it scares me a little, how relaxed she is with the house ghost."

"Please what??" Gaz blinked at him in surprise.

"The house ghost. She calls him Edgar. After the guy who built the house. She bought this old victorian house and at night you can always hear the back door banging open and shut and someone running up and down the stairs. But never up to the top floor. That was  built on later. I nearly wet my pants the first night, when I went to see what was going on and this gigantic mirror fell on me. The thing was secured with six sturdy wall anchors! SIX! Well, I didn't set foot in the house for two weeks after that, but she says she's negotiating a deal."

Gaz looked at him with horror in his eyes.

Johnny shrugged his shoulders. "I'm used to it by now. But the noise is a bit annoying."

Gaz gave him a forced smile. "You see. You don't have anything like that with Ghost... No ghosts with Ghost."

Rudy

He was sitting in his small kitchen with Alejandro, listening to everything about Ale's last date, until they were interrupted by a loud noise.

Ale flinched in surprise and looked at the kitchen counter behind him. Rudy immediately ran to the counter and grabbed a cell phone. He wiped the green icon across the display and held it to his ear.

"(Y/n)s phone. Rodolfo on the line. - Yes, you forgot it here. - No, no problem. - Good. See you in a minute."

He placed the device on the kitchen table and looked into Alejandro's shocked face. "What? Was? That?"

"(Y/n) left her cell phone."

Ale looked at him like he was stupid. "What was that sound?"

"Her ringtone?" Rudy replied hesitantly. "Yeah... Her taste in music is a bit...  special," he admitted, looking at the device again.

"A bit? It sounded like a pig had been tormented.", Alejandro said indignantly.

Rudy grinned. "Somehow that relaxes her." He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "I think the band was called... I can't remember. Lorna something."

Ale looked at him skeptically. "Wait. Is she coming over? I can finally see the mystery (y/n) with my own eyes?"

Rudy sighed. "Be nice, please."

"I'm always nice."

"Hmph."

Ale gave him an annoyed look. "I'll pull myself together."

"No subliminal threats.", Rudy stated firmly.

Alejandro started to speak, but didn't get the chance.

"And certainly no direct ones!"

The colonel fell back against the back of his chair, annoyed. It wasn't as if he had no manners. If anything, some even found his temperament attractive.

"Fine," he grumbled.

Rudy nodded in satisfaction as he heard the front door open.

"Hey." (Y/n) called down the small hallway.

Rudy stood up and walked towards her.

Alejandro didn't know what he had expected, but somehow he had always imagined her... pinker.

When Rudy spoke of his girlfriend, it sounded like he was talking about the sweetest creature on earth, who couldn't hurt a soul. Alejandro had envisioned a girl in a summer dress with pink lipgloss kissing Rudy on the cheek.

What he saw was a girl dressed in black. Transparent cut-outs, heavy boots and various buckles adorned her body.

Her lips, which Alejandro had always imagined to be pink, were painted black, just like her eyes.

She gave Rudy a quick kiss on the lips. "Sorry, I'm only here for a moment. Sofia got tickets for a concert today. I'd rather not ask how. Oh hi!"

She waved to Alejandro.

"This is Alejandro." Rudy introduced him.

He waved at (Y/n), overwhelmed.

"I'm (Y/n)." she replied quickly.

"You sure?" asked Ale before he could stop himself.

Rudy immediately gave him a warning look before turning back to (Y/n). "Be careful."

She kissed him again on the tip of his nose. "I'll text you when I get home. Bey Alejandro!" she called out and was already gone again.

Alejandro looked dully into the hallway. Rudy looked back with a raised eyebrow.

"Well I didn't expect THAT.", Alejandro said.

Rudy sighed.

"Oh come on! You described a lamb!" He threw his hands up in the air dramatically. "Not a little vampire. No matter how cute she seems to be."

Rudy sighed devotedly and sat down at the table.

"She's just like I told you."

"So... a black lamb?"

The corners of Rudy's mouth twitched. "Yes. That fits."

"To get back to the, let's call it 'music'."

"I don't get it either.", Rudy smiled with amusement.

König

"Little bat?" König asked his girlfriend cautiously. She was sitting in one of his shirts next to his legs in front of the couch, looking thoughtfully at her puzzle, while the movie of her choice was playing on TV.

"Yes Bear?" she asked without looking up.

His eyes darted to the television at a particularly organic sound, before quickly settling back on her.

"Um... I know I said 'My job is war and I can take more than nornal humans'."

(Y/n) looked up and grinned mockingly.

"But I admit that your warning was probably... justified."

She grinned at him openly. "No (y/n)! I've seen and done things-"

"All right!" he interrupted her. A woman on the television screamed. "Is this girl still alive?" he asked in disgust.

(Y/n) pressed a button on the remote control and the movie stopped.

"There's no way anyone could survive something like that," he huffed.

His little bat just took a sip of his coffee. "The lore is, that Art keeps someone alive ,until he's satisfied. He decides when you die."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"It's horror. It's not supposed to make sense." She patted his gigantic thigh. "You held out very well, but you dropped out of the movie. You lost the bet. You have to order today.", she smiled mischievously.

He grumbled and reached for the tablet.

"No! You have to call! That was the bet."

He looked murderously at the phone. He hated ordering food. Which made no sense, considering his job and his career in it. He was a grown man. He made most people afraid, but still. These everyday situations weren't exactly easy for him. It wasn't like it used to be, but it would never be normal either. Nobody had to like him in his job. No one expected him to be polite. In the real world, there were all these rules and unspoken regulations.

"Like always?" he asked her. She just nodded and went back to looking at her puzzle.

Sometimes it was funny. They both weren't the most confident when it came to social interaction, even though the world always thought they should be. Him because of his body. Her because of her look.

They had started making bets. The loser had to make phone calls or tell the waiter in the restaurant that the food was going back.

He ordered the pizza and felt (Y/n) put a hand on his knee. He had started wiggling his legs again. A habit that had always upset his mother. She stroked his knee with her thumb and he brought his limbs back to rest. With a sigh, he tossed the cell phone towards the pillow. It was nice that he didn't feel any anxiety with her. It was nice to have someone who gave him the space to find peace.

"What kind of picture is this going to be?", he asked her, stroking her hair and looking at the dark puzzle.

"Blackness."

"Blackness?"

"Yes. It's just black." She grinned.

"Why?"

"Because we as humans like to play God. The nice thing is... There's a reference picture."

He grinned. He loved how she was amused by little things like that. He loved his little bat. Her and her bloody pointless puzzle.

[ysabelmystic]

“I just came from r/196” ask game

Saw another post. I think I should invite y'all to one of our longstanding traditions. Answer the questions then tag 10 (or more) people. I'll go first.

Name? Frankie

Pronouns and gender? he/they/it, transmasc

Sexuality? Lesbian

Country? USA

Top 5 fandoms? Bungou Stray Dogs, Cosmere, All for the Game, Fundiesnark (not a series but I'm too deep in it to not consider it a fandom), .....the tornado fandom? (they're my special interest)

What is your Most forbidden snack? The preserved bones at the Atlanta Bodies Exhibition. They looked so crunchy...

Would you pet a bug? If it's big enough, it is pettable.

Share a weird fact/story about yourself with the class. I like to drive around rural areas and photograph old, sometimes abandoned locations in the dead of night. I have been literally chased out of towns by foot and by car on two separate occasions. The second time this happened, "See You Again" by Miley Cyrus came up on shuffle and that's the soundtrack my friend and I tore out of town to. Also every "guy" I've dated except for my most recent ex (who has big egg energy) is a lesbian now.

What does the color blue taste like? Creme brulee

What is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen? The appalachian mountains of Tennessee in the middle of summer. There's kudzu everywhere. On the backroads, there were several old, dilapidated Baptist churches barely hanging to the side of the mountain. I wonder how many of them were still in use.

What is the stupidest thing you've ever done? Short version: my friend's house almost got broken into by this dude who'd been stalking us for months while we were home alone. Instead of calling the cops, we decided to confront him with a bow and arrow (me), a hatchet, and a baseball bat (him). The plan was that if it went badly, we would simply throw his corpse into one of the many lakes in the neighborhood and let the alligators eat his remains (this was Florida). Why? Because we were afraid of having our home-alone privileges revoked. Luckily for us all, the guy fucked off and we never saw him again.

Stupidest thing you've seen/heard someone else do/say? My ex thought that Jackalopes were real. Also, a nurse I was doing rotations with apparently thought that "Witness Protection" was for Jehovah's Witnesses.

Hyperfixation song? Young Enough + Bleach by Charly Bliss

Is there any meaning behind your profile picture and/or username? Profile pic; I'm transmasc and I'm currently obsessed with TriStamp. Username; It was my fake internet name when I was like 13. I won't change it because I want my mutuals to recognize me, and because I do have a viral post associated with this name.

Dream career as a child? Doctor (funnily enough I'm now in nursing school)

Dream career as an adult? Professional Jester. Not a comedian. I just want to be some weird little guy who dresses silly and you can hire me to roast your boss at work parties.

Thoughts on cilantro? Delicious

Have you ever been banned from a location and if so, why? I honestly can't remember? Probably... but in recent memory I've mainly banned people from places.

What is your cursed food combination? Pineapple on a hotdog with grilled onions. It Slaps.

Trans rights? TRANS RIGHTS

Tagging: @rocket-mankoi @mostlymarco @atleast8courics @jazzlike39 @gemsweater72 @limbobilbo @ameliaaltare @redcrane112 @theoneofwhomisblue @twinkenjoyer @theultimatecarp and anyone else who wants to jump on

[hyuuukais]

⋆.˚𖦹°‧✮‧°𖦹˚.⋆ ERROR 404

pairing ~ yang jeongin x fem reader

synopsis ~ y/n starts getting messages from an unknown number after buying a used phone for cheap. as she finds out more about the boy she's talking to, it turns out there's much more to this than a wrong number --- he died, and she's talking to his spirit, yet he has no idea what happened to him. will y/n have what it takes to solve the mystery of his death? or will the boy's spirit remained trapped in his phone?

warnings ~ gen, anxiety

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CH 5 ~ FAMILY TIES (wc: 2.3k, 2 screenshots)

"There," Jeongin directs you to a house on your right. It's a modest house with dark blue paneling and a neat front yard. As you pull up to the curb, you catch a glimpse of a woman ushering two children back inside, abandoning a soccer ball by the door.

"Cute. You grew up here?" You ask, parking the car.

"Yeah, but like everything else I don't remember much," Jeongin leans forward in his seat to get a better look at the house. "I don't think it was always blue though, that's new. And they cut a tree down from other there," He points to one corner of the yard and you see a short stump. "Other than that, nothing."

"So why are we here then?" You take your hands off the wheel and place them in your lap. "There's gotta be some kind of emotional connection to this place, something important that happened."

"Isn't growing up there exactly that?"

"Well, yeah, but take the other memories into consideration," You say and turn your body to face Jeongin. "That park, anything could have happened there, but your brain decided the most important thing was meeting Hyunjin. Then again at the lake, the first night of having your own car and celebrating that. Even then you mentioned another event that took place there, the party, so why not that? So many things probably happened at that lake just like in this home, but we're here for a specific memory."

"Wow, you've really put thought into this." The corner of Jeongin's mouth quirks up as he faces you. "Maybe you should be a detective."

"I'll stick to the flower shop," You laugh.

For a while it's like this, the two of you chatting in the car waiting for something to happen. Morning turns to noon to late afternoon before anything happens, the sun hanging low in the sky. You point it out to Jeongin when you see it; two little boys have exited a pale yellow house and are making their way down the sidewalk in your direction. Stepping out into the sticky heat of late summer, you and Jeongin follow them all the way to the corner of the street before they stop.

They look to be about thirteen here, Hyunjin wrapping an arm around Jeongin's shoulders as they walk side by side. When they stop, his arm drops and they face each other. Hyunjin is slightly taller than Jeongin and has already started killing his hair with bleach, fiddling with the edge of the yellow tank top he's wearing. Jeongin sighs and crosses his arms with a frown on his face, Hyunjin matching the mood with a pout.

"So this is it?" Hyunjin asks, voice quiet.

"Yeah," Jeongin replies. "I guess so."

"You're leaving me."

"I have to."

"Come live with me," Hyunjin jokes. "Then you won't have to. Convince your parents by saying you don't want to switch schools or something."

"You know I can't do that," Jeongin looks away uncomfortably.

"I wouldn't make you live with me," Hyunjin's head drops. "With him."

"You could come with me-"

"No, I can't, you know that," Hyunjin crosses his arms. "It's stupid you're moving right out of our district, you should still be allowed to stay." He kicks a rock with the toe of his shoe, looking away embarrassed. "Don't make a new best friend."

"What?" Jeongin almost looks offended. "I could never! You know you'll be my best friend for life, always, even if I died! My ghost would haunt your ass."

Present-day Jeongin snorts at this.

With a pinky promise, you watch the two boys make a pact to stay close friends no matter what happens between them. They'll star in their first movie together side by side, they'll always support each other; they'll do everything together and never leave. A car pulls up and honks and Hyunjin waves goodbye to Jeongin, entering the vehicle. As it drives away, Hyunjin is looking out with fingertips barely touching the glass. Little Jeongin is gone, leaving you in silence.

"You know, I've been wondering why this neighbourhood has felt so familiar," You say quietly. "My mother was buried just down the road."

The car is silent, Jeongin placing his hand right next to yours on the compartment, just a hair away. Even with him not touching you directly, you can feel his energy coming off on you. It's different, the way you can feel him without feeling drained; it almost makes you want to take the risk and extend your pinky, closing the distance between you. When you look at him, the setting sun has created a warm glow around him, but accentuating his ghostly-ness. This is both the most alive and dead you've seen him, pale skin and eye bags, orange glow and soft eyes.

You start the car, fully intent on driving home, but your body seems to direct the vehicle the opposite way. As you pass the cemetery you slow down, making a full stop right outside the entrance. In the corner of your eye, you can see Jeongin looking at you, but you can't face him. This is big; walking into this place could change so many things for you, and you don't even know where you'd start with your mom. You've never met her, what if she doesn't recognize you? What if she's not there? What if-

"Y/n, stop thinking so much," Jeongin teases lightly, trying to bring up the mood. "We don't have to go today, or at all even."

"I want to," You finally look at him. "But there's so much I don't know about her and that she doesn't know about me. This could change everything I've ever thought about her."

"Don't you want to know who she was? Not who you think she is?" He asks.

Yes, of course you do. Without answering, you step out of the car and brace yourself for the wind; it's picked up a lot since leaving. Leaves blow off the trees that line the pathway in, some getting caught in your hair as you walk. The air is crisp and cold, goosebumps forming on your arms and the back of your neck. Whether that's actually from the coolness or from the atmosphere, you don't know for sure.

In your peripheral vision, you spot the odd spirit here and there. Most are lingering by graves, presumably their own, wandering back and forth, or sitting on the stone benches sprinkled around. One reaches out for you as you pass a bench, her frail, wrinkled fingers grazing your wrist, but Jeongin shifts over and gently pushes her away. She simply curls into herself, and you think you can hear crying as you get further away; your skin burns where she touched you.

"Up there." You point to a large structure with named boxes in straight lines. Your mother was cremated, but still laid to rest with the rest of her family. Underneath her box are two empty ones and a man's name. Before you can read the name, someone is calling out for you from behind.

Turning around, you spot a young woman not much older than you crouched down by a bush, a bright flower in her hand. She drops the flower, shock written all over her face and tears welling in her eyes. Standing up straight, she eagerly walks toward you, but Jeongin stands in her way as a warning.

"Sorry, I'm not used to the living," She laughs, leaning to the side so you can see her; Jeongin's back is obscuring most of your sight.

"That's okay," You squeak, stepping out from Jeongin. You're a lot more nervous seeing her now, especially noticing just how alike you look. "I'm-"

"Y/n," She exhales. "Don't think I'd recognize my own daughter? C'mon. But..." Her eyebrows furrow, looking around as if someone's missing. "Your brother, where is he?"

Brother?

You stare at her, mouth agape and unable to form words. Glancing back to the stone behind you, it dawns on you that there are two empty boxes underneath your mother, not one. Which means...

"I have a brother?"

"You-" Her eyebrows somehow knit together further, the flower clutched so tightly in her palm you doubt any petals could be salvaged. "You didn't know? How do you not know? Your father-"

"I'm adopted," You admit shyly, avoiding her eyes, but you can hear her scoff.

"That motherfucker."

Jeongin snorts and whispers, "Definitely related."

Your mother opens her mouth to speak again, but she's stopped short when something catches her attention to the side. When you follow her sight, you can see a man in the far distance staring her down. Suddenly, the air is tight with tension and fear, like all the spirits around you are wary of him. He doesn't come closer, but he raises something sharp and you finally recognize him as the man in the boat. The bottle isn't at his neck this time, but rather pointed at your mother. His head is tilted in a sinister way, only part of his face visible from behind his extended hand, but his features are both sharp and soft at the same time.

"We should get out of here," Jeongin says, his own voice tight with anxiety.

"But-" You try to protest.

"No, he's right honey," Your mother spares a glance toward you. "You need to leave, just promise me- promise me you'll find your brother?"

"I-I promise."

Wasting no time, Jeongin encourages you in front of him without tearing his eyes away from the man. The further you go, the blurrier he becomes, and soon enough the man is completely out of sight. Who is he, and why were all those ghosts so scared?

Back in the car, you take a chance to breathe before starting it up. With shaky hands, you turn on the ignition and prepare to drive away, but something bangs on your car window loudly, causing you to jump, almost enough to hit your head. You yelp when you see the man outside, the closest he's been to you since the first sighting. There's a distinctive mole under one of his narrowed eyes, his slender fingers pressed up against the window. Without thinking twice, you speed off and don't stop until you're outside of your home.

Jeongin is trying to speak to you, but you're dizzy and can't make out any words he's saying, the world around you spinning like crazy. A raging headache is beginning to form behind your eyes, placing your head between your legs and trying to control yourself. Anxiety threatens to sweep you under its strong waves, but with every breath you can feel yourself settling down. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three...

"I need to contact Minho," You say, voice weak.

"Let's get you inside first." Jeongin exits, rounding the front of your car and opening your door. "Can you stand?"

"I don't know," You admit. "But if you touch me, especially when I'm already feeling like shit..."

"I know," Jeongin sighs, frustrated.

Placing one hand on the open door and the other on your seat, you push up and cling to the vehicle, a wave of nausea hitting you. Once it passes, you take a step away and allow Jeongin to close the car door. You wonder what this looks like to others; can they see the actions he makes, or does it appear different to them? Stumbling to your front door, you enter quickly, feeling uneasy so exposed outside.

The warmth of your house hits you like a weighted blanket, sleepiness overtaking you making it hard to undress. Trudging upstairs, you half expect Jeongin to be gone when you enter your room, but he's still watching over you. Walking over to your closet, you throw the first comfy clothes you see onto your bed and flop down. It's too much to move- your whole body feels as though there's a ton of bricks weighing you down. With sluggish eyes, you see Jeongin looking out the window to the right of your bed, opening it just a crack to let some cool air in. The breeze prickles at your skin, but it's nice.

"Jeongin."

"Yeah?" He turns his head toward your sleepy figure.

"Can we take a risk?" You mumble, gauging his reaction. His eyebrows raise and he looks down, stretching away from the window.

"What kind of risk?" He asks, trying to keep his voice light.

"Help me get dressed," You say, almost wanting to cry from your exhaustion. "I'm so fucking tired."

Rolling onto your back with your head still in his direction, you watch him consider his options. Slowly, he makes his way toward you and picks up the sweatshirt you abandoned at the bottom of your bed. Hesitantly, the tips of his fingers meet your upper arm. Nothing happens, no sick feelings or passing out; only you and him and the surprising warmth of his touch. When he realizes you're okay, he continues to lift you up into a sitting position, teasing you for your groans. Lifting your shirt gently, he looks away red in the face and feels for the sweatshirt, finding it close by and bringing it over your head. Next, he helps you out of your jeans and slips the matching sweatpants up your legs, his hands pausing at your hips.

He's holding his breath, and you're more awake than ever as you make eye contact with him. You realize the position you're in with him overtop of you, his face oddly close to yours, enough for your breath to mingle. His eyes dart down your face, back up to your eyes, and away from you shyly. Taking his face in your hands, you thumb his cheekbones and run your fingers down his jawline. Touching someone has never felt so natural for you, so real and safe. Either your eyes are deceiving you, or he's getting closer and closer and-

Your phone buzzes. "Minho."

notes ~ this may or may not be unedited for the most part, so apologies for any mistakes i am simply too eepy

taglist ~ @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @bloomingstay @sona1800

@dollschan @defnotfertilizedtoesw @thisisnotjacinta @kayleigh-28 @kayleefriedchicken

@lailac13 @linocvp1d @ilov3jeong1n @mooseung @kkamismom12

reply or send an ask to be added (18+)^^^ green means i can't tag you

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

Fit for a King - WIP - "You are tiny"

Fit for a King - Masterlist

König fanfiction scenes and chapters that do not yet have a coherent plot

planned content/TW: rivals to lovers, König x fem!character (not too descriptive to make it accessible for more readers), social anxiety killing machine König, badass friendly FMC, dual POV, secret relationship, switch energy, NSFW, adult themes, strong language, violence (more details are still unclear, gonna update as I go), authentic austrian german

a/n: well, my brain isn't letting go of this newest obsession of mine, so I will appease it and write some scenes/chapters that come to mind. i have written more original work and less fanfictions and our boy (and KorTac) is hard to research, but I'll try my best to stay some-what cannon to the lore. it'll also probably get darker down the road.

if your character doesn't have a tragic backstory, why not give him one?

A not so meetcute

(CW: some mature language)

I strut along the hallway, I'm already late to report for duty and turn the corner abruptly. I collide with somebody else at full walking force and almost get pushed to the floor, if the big figure blocking the light shining from above wouldn't have caught me. "Ouch.", I yelp, more surprised than hurt, even though I feel like ran over by a truck.

I steady myself to look at the "truck". I look up and I keep looking up and up. At first there's just this chest, a huge chest, in a simple compression shirt, but oh boy. The weapon holster is what I see next, sitting snug at the side of his torso. Shoulders, big broad shoulders, and normally you would expect to have a head sitting on top of them and a face looking back at you. I guess, he has one as well, even though I don't see one bit of it. I strain my neck to finally meet his eyes.

But all I see is the dark black of a… sniperhood? A T-shirt? I mean, it looks like a t-shirt, that somebody cut holes in to fashion themselves a kind of mask. The front is stained with bleach, two streaks coming down from the eyeholes... My eyes widen as it sinks in who this is. König. KorTac operator, field combatant and one of my superiors. Shit. I've heard some rumors about him. And it seems like at least some of them ring true.

"You are tiny.", he states matter-of-factly, his Austrian accents shining through the uttered words. It's the first thing he says to me. "And you are... not.", I retort. I can't make out his expression as it so obviously is hidden by his mask. He nods, turns around and heads down the hallway where he came from. I shake my head. What the hell was that?

I stretch myself, feeling the impact of the collision already. My god, that was like being hit by a battering ram. I heard that his specialty is breaking down doors with brute force. I thought this to be ridiculous, but now as I watch the gigantic muscled man strut down the hallway, quickly disappearing, I do believe it. 6'10" killing machine. Ridiculous.

I shake my head again and make my way to the meeting room. Ridgeback is already waiting for me.

______________________________________________________________

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Verdammt. Ah, des hast du ganz super g'macht.* I tell myself sarcastically in my head as I basically run down the hallway. She must be one of the new hires. Must be. And you almost turned her to mush. Mus. Brei. Human remains splattered against the wall. I curse myself again. I didn't even apologize. "You are tiny." No shit, Sherlock, everybody is tiny compared to you. I continue to mock myself. Fuck, Shit, Fuck.

"Ridge, since when do we hire children?", I ask him as soon as I enter the room. He doesn't even look up. "We don't." He keeps reading. "Then why did I just almost run over a recruit that didn't even reach my waist?" – “Because compared to you, everybody seems tiny.” He sighs and looks up at me. ���None of our personnel are under 6’, not even the women.”

“Even the new recruits?”, I ask him again. He furrows his brow. “What did you do, König?”, he wants to now. “I may or may not have almost trampled one of them.”, I say, kleinlaut***. He sighs again. “I think that was Müller, she’s actually on her way here.”, Ridgeback says. “Müller? Is she german?”, I ask in surprise. I didn’t hear such an accent on her, but to be fair, she only said like three words… and I wasn’t really paying attention to her words anyway.

On cue, the door opens and I fall silent. “Permission to enter, Sir?”, she says with a clear voice. Not at all seeming like I almost turned her into pulp. I take two steps back to stand in the back, trying to blend into the wall behind me – which I already know from experience is not going to work. “Come in.”, Ridge says. “Müller, right?” She nods and approaches. My focus is fully on her, all the small bits I noticed about her before are still there. She’s not wearing a mask because it’s not necessary off mission. You know, like you normally would. She has laugh lines. Around her eyes and mouth. Fucking laugh lines. She doesn’t look like she belongs here.

The two of them are talking, but I catch every single time when her gaze lands on me, even if it’s just from the corner of her eyes. I fight against the urge to turn away every time she looks at me, when I hear Ridgeback drop the old s-word. Sniper.

My ears perk up and I finally pay attention to what they’re saying again. “Your track record is almost immaculate, Müller. You’re gonna be an asset to the team on the next missions.”, he says to her. I can see that she tries to hold back a proud expression or smile on her face, but she doesn't really succeed at that. God damn it, a sniper. I groan and make my way to the door which doesn’t go unnoticed. “König.”, Ridgeback pipes up. “You wanna show Müller the way to the dorms?” as I already have my hand on the doorknob.

I still for just a moment and the roaring sensation of anxiety seeps at my feet and crawls up my body until it’s nested at the back of my head. I can’t talk to her. Not after embarrassing myself before. “Nein.”, is all I say before I’m out the door.

*God damnit. You did a really bang up job. ** two different words for pulp/mash *** meekly (word for word: 'smallloud')

[muses-with-afp]

In terms of weird-o Bleachy thoughts that rampage through my mind at various times, there is always this page from the TBTP arc:

And while this is a banger of a page in an arc full of them, my goober mind mostly telescopes in on this one panel:

Am I not supposed to wonder at this panel? Because here I am on a Friday wondering. More specifically, I am wondering: What am I supposed to take away here? And, what is it that I do actually take away here (today at least)?

As usual, I'll start by describing it because you have to start somewhere, I guess. This scene is a mostly pointless aside to the story, since I don't think we learn anything super substantive, plot-wise. What we do learn is that Byakuya is what passes for a "teenager" during this period, takes his training and role super seriously, and Yoruichi tortures plays with him on occasion.

The panel that draws my eye, however, seems to be communicating a few things at once: One, Byakuya realizes he has a guest. Two, that guest is Yoruichi. And three, Yoruichi greets young Byakuya tits out, which provides some color as to the nature of their relationship. I don't think either points two or three are revelations to the audience. Is anyone shocked the guest is Yoruichi? No, we've already spent some time with her in this arc and know she's definitely around. Also, is anyone really shocked that she and Byakuya have a teasing quasi-sibling relationship? Again, no, we've probably gathered as much since at least the SS arc.

For me, then, it's point one that scratches at the ole brain pan. What I am to make of Byakuya realizing he has a guest? Does he often receive guests at House Kuchiki? My guess is no. He looks sort of curious. The art isn't giving, say, razzle-dazzle anticipation, either (i.e., in that he is really keen on the guest being someone specific). I suppose you could squint really hard and say he might be hopeful as to who could be calling on him, but more in a diffuse "someone took time out of their day to see me" sort of way and less of a heart-skipping prayer that the guest is XYZ, who he's been dying to see again for ages.

I think this latter interpretation might be closer to the truth once the scene continues, and Byakuya goes from, "A guest for little ole me?" to this:

Which is just the zany shit I love to see from my Bleach characters. To be perfectly honest, I think Kubo does a pretty good job at nailing teenagers in all their ridiculous reaction formations and exaggerated responses to things (I say lovingly). However, I think that his relative curiosity ("A guest?") turned immediately to, "GO AWAY, YOU," could be read as he may have been excited or hopeful to receive a guest, one who is not Yoruichi. And, his overblown reaction to Yoruichi likely betrays the fact that even though she's a pain in his ass, he's pretty happy to see her.

So, what to make of all that. Well... perhaps we're supposed to take home the idea that perhaps Byakuya is isolated, even now. We get a hint of that at the very beginning of the scene:

Here, Ginrei (Byakuya's grandfather) notes that he is staying at the manor rather than the barracks, which implies that at least one close family member doesn't always come home. Given that Byakuya's father is the Vice Captain of Squad Six, it's likely his father has a similar schedule (i.e., periods of absence from the home where Byakuya lives). Combined with Byakuya's curiosity at receiving a guest and subsequent deflation at who that guest winds up being, perhaps we are supposed to understand that he's pretty lonely.

Now, before someone accuses me of going easy on Byakuya, I definitely think some of that loneliness is of his own making, given what a cocky brat he is to Yoruichi in these panels, a perspective that gets echoed by Kaien shortly afterward:

But, being a cocky brat is sort of a thing teens do on occasion. And, not having a lot of people to socialize with probably doesn't help with beating that quality out of someone learning how to behave appropriately.

Given how this arc shakes out in the end--with Yoruichi going into hiding to help a friend--the potential people left to call upon Byakuya dwindles further. Then, after his dad dies an unspecified amount of time later, it dwindles further still.

And so, on that thought, I end this post. Because what's Bleach without a little tragedy coupled with humor? (My personal favorite variety of Bleach.)

[grabyoursaintsandpray]

I didn't exactly have high hopes going into the film, my expectations were on the floor actually but somehow it still managed to be worse than I thought it would be.

In case anyone wants to watch the awful mess that is Borderlands, I'll put the rest under the cut and instead here's much needed eye bleach in the form of Krieg.

The exposition! There's so much of it, which I knew there would be because you have to explain 5 games worth of lore in a 1:40hr movie.

Tannis basically exists as a character to insert that lore for the audience, usually in an awkward painful to watch manner. I wish I could say well, Tannis is an awkward character so Jamie Lee Curtis nailed it but we didn't get that funny, slightly deranged way of speaking and making people uncomfortable. We just got some really blah lines, delivered very deadpan. Having her in the movie brought nothing to it, you could have cut her out and still had the same product.

Kevin Hart played Kevin Hart in a beret.

I actually stopped thinking of him as Roland and instead as a random 'Crimson Lance' soldier and you know what? It was more enjoyable that way.

Lillith, well yeah. The biggest sin here was her not being a siren? Not until the very end of course, which is so obvious as being the film's end game that I found myself checking the time wondering when would we be getting that 'big' reveal. Of course they don't actually use the word siren, they say Daughter of Eridia instead. Tannis does use the word siren exactly once near the end but it's pretty quickly muttered and never referenced again.

Speaking of sirens, Tina's whole back story is a chaotic mess. For some reason she has siren-like powers because why not I guess? Instead of her actual tragic back story, they kind of spliced her with Angel's instead. A controlling father who uses her powers for his own gain, except Atlas isn't her father because she was made in a lab with eridian blood.

Yeah the whole thing is a lot to follow and I know the lore, so I have no idea what casual movie goers thought of this.

The worst thing about this movie is Tina actually and that sucks to say because she's a great character but not in this. Her lines are delivered without any of that crazy, fun spark. Her jokes aren't funny and don't land and she's just... irritating. We're supposed to care for her, we're supposed to believe that lillith comes to care for her but it's a little hard to swallow.

Claptrap is well Claptrap, which is actually not that bad. His lines are very on point and visually he looks good. However he's a very annoying character and that's the whole point of course but in the games you just bump into him now and again and can generally get away from him, in this movie you are stuck with him and he very quickly grates on your nerves.

My beloved Krieg, at least you looked good. Another character who was really kind of pointless and didn't make any sense being there. Why was Atlas keeping psychos in space jail? Why did Tina know his name and why were they so comfortable with each other. We'll never know and the film didn't think it relevant to tell us.

Surely if Tina needed a bodyguard, the obvious answer would have been Brick? Did nobody working on this film play the games at all?

There's probably a lot that I've already forgotten and I don't intend to watch this film again to remember any of it but the main thing that stuck out to me was

Nobody laughed

At any of it, not a single chuckle was heard throughout the entire film and there must have been at least 15 people in my screening.

It was a painfully unfunny film and I'm now going to play Borderlands 2 and try to wipe it from my memory.

[satansaidnottoday]

Twinning: part 2.

Part 1

Info: Human AU, Lucifer's Mc, Mammon & GN!Mc.

Summary: Mammon helps out with preparations for the party.

Every day you make up at 3am sharp to start baking. Nonstop measuring, mixing, pipping, and decorating until it's opening time. Mondays are the only day off, the only day a week you close down the café and take time for yourself.

Yet today you're awake at 3am on a Monday, bending over a DIY starlight curtain. And for what? Some kids you barely know the name of? Pity for a man who probably makes three times more than you? You didn't even know this family two weeks ago. And still, you keep gluing strips of LED lights together. It takes about two hours to be done, but it's beautiful and completely worth it. It takes another three hours until you've finished hot gluing starts into constellations on a navy blue banner. You would hang it up behind the glittery letters that spelled out their names.

You needed to prep just one last thing before the day. You know two things about these kids, one likes constellations, and the other will finish a cupcake in a single bite. So, a space cake it is. You would make it with leftover sheets, fondant, and cream to reduce cost. Making all the decorations for free was a lot on your wallet already. You got ready to have breakfast before starting when the doorbell rang. You make your way down the stairs, expecting maybe a delivery or a neighbor asking for a cup of sugar.

Instead, you find a man with messily bleached locks and the biggest yellow-tinted sunglasses you've ever seen. You wondered how he managed to see on a cloudy day.

"Hey! What's up with the door? It won't open!" He asks, before looking you up and down. Probably surveying the glue and glitter covering your old clothes.

"We're closed today..." You say, ready to close the door on his face, until you remember where you knew him from. The one very loud teenager following Lucifer around. "Are you Lucifer's brother?"

"Ya, Mammon, remember my name next time, I'm not just someone's brother." He says, indignant. "What even happened to you anyways?"

You would feel offended if you had any energy left for that. "Your brother."

"What?" He lifts an eyebrow, and you barely see it through his glasses.

"I'm making decorations for the twins's birthday," you explain, asking yourself why you are even entraining him.

"Ah, Lucifer did say something about that. But it's like a week away, why are you doing it now?"

"Because today is my only free day," you answer, patience wearing thin. "And I still have stuff to do, so..."

"Wait, but isn't that part of your job? Decoration and shit." He looked at you with a confused face. You felt a headache building up.

"No, I just rented him the place," you said sharply and opened your mouth again to say goodbye, before he interrupted.

"Since you're already working on your free day, can I have a caramel late? With soy milk, please." He smiles.

You close the door on his face.

"Hey, wait! I'll pay for it! Don't leave me out!" You hear him scream, but you just turn around and start going upstairs. He doesn't stop at all, just screaming louder with every step you take. "I'LL HELP WITH THE DECORATIONS!" He tries again, and you stop to think about it for a moment. "COME ON! I KNOW THEM BETTER!" He did make a good point.

After some more consideration (and some more screaming), you turn back and open the door for him.

"You're unbearable." You say when he finally stops screaming.

"Unforgettable, you mean." He runs his hand through his hair.

"Does this usually work for you?"

He does a weighting motion with his hands. "Fifty-fifty."

You let out a deep sigh, starting to understand Lucifer. "I can offer café con leche and leftover cat croissants," you tell him.

"Can it be soy milk? Please," he asks, tilting his head on what you think is an attempt to look cute.

"No."

He sighs this time, with fake exasperation. He looks at you pleading. You start to close the door again.

"Okay, I'll take it!" He says, launching himself inside before you can close the door.

He, in fact, didn't have a single problem gulping down the coffee with whole milk. Nor eating three whole croissants before even speaking.

"You got a nice place, how much do you pay on rent?" Of course he started with that. No thanks, no sorry for screaming my lungs off in front of your house.

"I own it." That was your only answer.

"Shit, really? You must be loaded!"

"I'm not, I just inherited it from my grandma. I had to pour all of my life savings and get a loan to open up the café. So I'm less than wealthy, I'm in crippling debt." You take a sip of your black coffee, washing your worries down your throat.

"Damn," he said, mouth half full of croissant. "That sucks."

You nod in response.

"You looking for a roommate? I can pay rent when I get a job."

"So, you can't pay rent now?…" He shakes his head. "So you would live here for free until you get a job?" He nods. "I'll pass for now."

"That sucks too..." He doesn't stop eating to feel bad tho.

"You don't like living with your brother?" You question, taking away the empty plate of croissants.

"It's not that, I'm just tired of depending on him."

"So your plan was to depend on a total stranger instead."

"I didn't think about it like that, okay?" He leans on his hands over the table.

You laugh and his cheeks grow red.

"Whatever, let's make festoons or something." He says, trying to change the subject.

"Ah, I'm already done with decorations," you admit.

He immediately stands up from his chair. "Oh well, then I should get going so I don't mess up your schedule anymore." He said, leaning down to grab his jacket, you stop his hand mid-air, holding his wrist.

"I do need help making the party hats, though."

He lets out an exhausted moan, letting himself fall backward. You're both sitting down on the floor, surrounded by cardboard paper and glitter stars. You had a system where you cut out the hats and decorations, and then passed them to him to assemble. In an hour, he has managed to finish a total of three hats. You had nothing else to cut, so you scooted closer and started assembling yourself.

"Come on, only six to go," you encouraged him.

He begrudgingly sat up again and grabbed one of the paper sheets to roll it into a cone. "This is so boooring. And your music is all old and sad."

You refrained from answering, instead opting to make conversation.

"How are you guys liking the new neighborhood?" You ask. You really wanted to inquire more about their family dynamic, but figured you weren't close enough yet.

"It's... nicer than our last place," he says. "It's safer, you know. There's kids playing outside and shit."

You nod.

"And you have some pretty nice neighbors." He looks at you confused. "I hear they will make you coffee even if you're annoying."

He scoffs. "In exchange for physical labor!"

"Oh, come on, it's putting double-sided tape on paper stars."

"It's abusive," he retorts, yet keeps on taping the stars on.

"It's for your brothers, don't you want to give them a cute birthday?" You ask with a playful tone.

"Of course I do! What I don't understand is why YOU are so invested in this if Lucifer isn't even paying for it."

He looks at you expectantly. After a few seconds pass by and it doesn't seem like he will relent, you stop to think. He is right, you have no stakes in this. So what if the kids don't have a nice cake and personalized decorations, it doesn't affect you. And it's not like they would have nothing. A lukewarm birthday party has never killed anyone. So why even bother? You would like to pretend you didn't know the answer.

"Heeeey!" He snaps his fingers a few times. "I'm serious, why are you so invested in this?"

"Because of your brother."

"Belphegor or Beel?" He asks, looking confused.

"Lucifer..." You admit.

"What? Why? It's not his birthday."

"It's not but this matters to him," you drop the finished Ursa Minor party hat into the box with the rest.

"How do you know that?" He insists.

"Because he looks so fucking sad!" You explode on his face. He backs up a little. "Sorry..."

"What do you mean sad?..." He asks in a smaller voice than before.

You take a deep breath.

"He looks so sad whenever he can't give you guys something you want, I can tell he feels bad," you say, putting into words a thought you've had since the day you met. "I know this is important for him, so I want to help him out."

Mammon stays silent, staring holes into you. After a few moments, he grabs the hat he was working on and keeps going. You both work in silence until they are all done.

"Well, you probably should get going now that we're done," you said, standing up.

He nods and follows you downstairs to the door.

"Thanks for the help, you can come back for your late tomorrow when the café is open." You hold the door open for him.

He nods again, but stays still, thinking. Finally, he turns to you.

"Thank you…" he says. You tilt your head, confused. "For caring for him, I mean. I try to, we all try to care for each other but, you know. He's the oldest and I guess we all expect him to care for us, so it's nice to know someone cares for him."

He quickly walks away, leaving you speechless at the doorway.

Feeling decent now. I tried something new with the writing in this one. Let me know if you like it.

Thanks for reading!

[soleilnomoon]

Prompt: “I don’t like them; I can barely tolerate them.” for Abarai Renji. Once again, I leave it up to you what you wanna do (but maybe enemies to lovers) Yes, I might be on a little Bleach binge right now but it's okay you like it. kiss kiss

*hides face* ok, ok, ok, hear me out, let's pretend i didn't take *insert accurate length of time here* and say i wrote this in a few days. i am so sorry i took forever and ever with this but as u know i can only give u top quality work or else i'll never forgive myself. renji is.......well *motions to him* yk how that man is, he made me suffer!!!! in a good way!!! but still i suffered!!! yk how much i love enemies 2 lovers u big brained beauty 🤭 so ty baby❤️️ also this is my first renji fic and i can't belev it.

5.2k words (don't look at me, just don't), fem reader, nsfw, 18+ mdni, enemies 2 lovers, angst city, angst angst city biiiitch (yk the vibez babey), smut obviously, no fluff bc who do u think i am? feat. renji being a mean petty bitch (i guess that makes him a mean dom maybe yes), sub reader bc that's what i want; there's a party with alcohol, ichigo and co. make brief appearances, bathroom sex, choking (he's sf romantic), a lot of cursing bc they're grown that's why, renji is a beast when he's jealous, reader is a lil bit of a brat but lbr who wouldn't be in that situation; mutual ""unrequited"" pining, lots of tension, fingering, rough (consensual) sex, lil bit of degradation, lil bit of a size kink, lil bit of praise kink, idk there's probably more stuff but i'm so tired rn i can't think; um renji obviously comes w his own gd warning; reader is determined to not let this man win but, hello, it's renji he always comes out on top wink wink. (if u see spelling errors/mistakes no u didn't hottie)

“when i write about all of this it becomes its own kind of violence. / i retell the story as myth, as if it were my own body devoured.” — caitlin scarano & “so much of love is violence. the desire / to be split open, invaded, mangled / and made new.” — erin slaughter

HATRED X TASTES X SWEET

you’ve never been cut out for this line of work, but your insistence on eliminating all your shortcomings is commendable. brave, even. it’s something you don’t really think about unless you want to spend the night half-drunk, rambling about the things you should’ve done but never had the courage to do.

like telling a certain red-haired, bullheaded lieutenant that he’s the most ridiculous and excessively arrogant man you’ve ever come across. all in all, you’re pretty sure telling him off won’t phase him; nothing ever does, not really anyway.

at first you try politeness; your grandmother would be proud of how well you’ve learned to bite your tongue. it’s ungraceful, but you fake it well enough that others think your emotional maturity is far above theirs. little do they know, you actually have to literally bite your tongue; simply remaining silent isn’t easy for you anymore. so, when you bite, it’s with rage, months of unshed tears and accumulated spite; you bite your tongue so hard you bleed more every time.

your unsaid words bunch together — tiny soldiers determined to strike in unison without fail — and sit heavily in the back of your throat, ready to launch forward at your command.

but you never say them, and you choke more than once; an unbearable shame to carry with you as he continues to slash at your patience, thin ribbons cascading off you like confetti. you wonder if your anger will lead to your death— or if it’ll lead to his. you intend to keep all of that hidden, though, and keep reminding yourself that eventually he will tire from berating you, from talking to you as if you’re the most incompetent being in all of soul society, from looking at you like your very being disgusts him.

that’s what you tell yourself these days. you like to conveniently ignore the way his dark eyes linger on yours during meetings — you’ve noticed that people have taken to describing them as soulless, cold and critical, unimpressed at everything and anyone.

but you see him — all of him; the raw, feral, powerful and severe side that not many have the misfortune of knowing. they think they get the real version of renji whenever they deal with him, but they never do; you know that now. you doubt it’s even intentional on his part, or maybe — just maybe — he really does hate you.

to put it plainly, as you’ve told rukia and rangiku, the sixth division lieutenant has the biggest fucking chip on his shoulder. despite the walls he continues to put up to keep others from carving out a place for themselves in his life, despite the way his words roll around his mouth, clumsily coasting down the length of his tongue before they pierce the air around you with their toxicity — you’re tired of the way he purposely singles you out time and time again to point out your inadequacies without remorse.

abarai renji is also sick of dealing with you. whenever he thinks he’s found a means of scaring you off, you scurry right back more determined and more obnoxious than ever. which is rich, coming from him.

he claims you’re inconsequential, a nuisance — a pest, even — one that he intends to get rid of permanently. it’s harsh and he’s more than aware of that, but he finds that this is the most appropriate solution to his problem. he could easily ignore you; he could try to keep his comments to himself and try to be somewhat cordial whenever you cross paths. but he won’t. and he has no damn idea why.

“no, no come in, i have plenty of snacks for everyone.”

rukia’s voice is a constant in his life that he’ll always be thankful for. he watches her glide into the room, grinning at the friends she’s invited over, her laughter like soft bells that is easily recognizable even with all the conversation happening. when he feels his chest constrict, an uncomfortable, yet familiar warmth stretching over his skin, he decides to drink so that he can ignore the sensation and forget.

a feeble attempt, because he knows how this will all end — with him drunk off his ass in an even worse mood than he started.

mouth opening, renji prepares to tell rukia to get better sake, when rangiku leads you into the living room where he’s lounging comfortably. the bottle in his hand grows heavier by the second and suddenly he’s not very interested in drinking anymore. already, his foul mood from earlier returns, and every step you take only fuels his irritation; it bubbles underneath his skin, making him frown and grip the bottle tighter.

you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s glaring at you — he always is. rangiku feigns obliviousness as she encourages you to go make yourself comfortable while she fetches snacks with rukia. you stare at both of them, wide-eyed, confused — a pleading look sliding onto your face after a few moments, but they assure you both that they’ll be back shortly.

with a sigh you sit on the armchair adjacent to him, determined to just remain quiet in the hopes that he’ll just ignore you for once. sitting up straight, discomfort finds its way to the pit of your stomach, swirling around as you fidget with the bracelet around your wrist. his eyes watch your movements with an obsessiveness that startles him; there’s no reason why he should be interested in the shape of your fingers, there’s no reason why he should be interested in the way you keep brushing stray curls away from your face, and there’s no reason why he should be interested in possibly fucking you when he knows for a fact that he is absolutely uninterested in you.

his disinterest runs so deep it spoils the taste of the sake, but he takes another swig anyway. the alcohol burns as it travels swiftly down his throat, and it just so happens that you glance over at him — innocuous, an attempt to gauge his annoyance level — as his throat bobs and your mouth dries at the sight.

you turn your face away quickly, a traitorous flush crawling slowly along your skin, unjustly warming your cheeks. inhaling deeply, you do your best to will the blush away to no avail. where the hell are rukia and rangiku? surely it can’t take that long to grab snacks. you’re tempted to go find them, but you have a sinking feeling that it would turn you into a coward.

and you refuse to give that man any more ammo against you.

IT’S X (NOT) X YOU

what initially starts as a small get-together, quickly turns into a party; leave it to rangiku to liven things up, her laughter infectious and whimsical, flitting about like a persistent hummingbird as she encourages everyone to play drinking games with her. experience taught him better than to engage because despite his high tolerance, there’s really no beating rangiku when she’s on a roll.

but when you emphatically agree to play with the rest, fury rises in his chest; your audacity, it seems, knows no bounds — and, yes, he understands the hypocrisy in his critique. he just doesn’t care.

the games are every bit as simple and ridiculous as you thought they’d be, but as everyone seems to be in relatively good spirits, you play along. not normally competitive with things like this, you get into the swing of things when you win round after round.

cheers resound nearby at your success, but throughout the evening, you feel renji’s stare and do everything in your power to not give in and look back at him. a tough feat to say the least, as you are always acutely aware of his presence; and when you do happen to sneak another glance, his legs are spread and you curse under your breath for finding that attractive.

foolish, you chide, so fucking foolish.

renji sucks his teeth as he feels a heaviness in his head; groaning loudly he swirls around what little sake he has left in his glass before finishing it.

“you lose again,” rukia’s voice is soft and teasing, but he’s annoyed and can’t be bothered with talking to her right now. she pats his shoulder gingerly before standing up to head to the kitchen. his mind is a mess and he blames you for it completely.

“i don’t fucking care,” he says gruffly to her retreating figure, not bothering to elevate his voice as he’s sure she heard him. and he really doesn’t care; he’s trying to tell himself to calm down, but he can’t.

the fault completely lies with you — of course it does, everything you do agitates every cell in his body. the reason is simple, and he hates that he doesn’t want to admit it — he’s so undeniably attracted to you that it pisses him off. he takes in your appearance for the twelfth time that night, admiring the softness of your cheeks, the fullness of your lips, the way you seem entirely too animated as you laugh at someone’s lame joke — and yes, he can tell it’s not funny from how your laughter dies down after a few seconds.

if he had better sense, he’d stop looking at you, but he can’t now; he might blame the sake for this later.

the intensity behind his gaze is enough to bring an inextinguishable heat along your skin. it’s only unpleasant because it travels down to your lower abdomen and brings about an agonizing ache between your thighs. at first, you do the sensible thing and ignore it; but the longer he stares, the more you want to look over, until finally you can’t take it anymore.

“i’ll be back,” you mumble to the other guests, although you doubt they hear you with how rowdy everyone is being; the noise isn’t unwelcomed, the distraction serves to mask your footsteps when you scurry from the living room to the back corridor, turning corner after corner until you find the bathroom.

a coward — that’s what you are.

you barricade yourself in there without thinking, heart pounding loud enough to disorient you. after several long minutes, you splash water on your face and take a few deep breaths.

“i can’t believe i ran away,” your voice is so soft you barely hear the words — almost as if you’re still in disbelief over the entire situation. there’s something off about renji tonight; the tension between you was more palatable and tangible than normal.

even though you feigned nonchalance as best as you could, there were so many moments where you couldn’t help but watch him too. pitiful. absolutely pitiful. there’s no excuse for it, and yet you struggle to find one anyway.

as you look at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you try to convince yourself to head back out there. sooner or later, people will realize that you’ve gone missing — and rangiku is nosy enough and like a bloodhound when she’s drunk. your time is incredibly limited now.

there’s no reason for you to continue to avoid the inevitable, so you sigh and give yourself a small pep talk before heading back outside.

TRUTH X OR X …

renji’s mood doesn’t improve at all; in fact, it worsens the moment ichigo sits right next to him. he’s not even sure why this sets him off, but even closing his eyes and counting backwards does nothing to keep him calm.

with slight difficulty, renji grits out, “what do you want?”

undeterred, ichigo stares at renji pointedly, voice steady as he says, “you could go after her, you know.”

again, renji sucks his teeth loudly, arms folded against his chest, right leg bouncing slightly as he taps his foot on the floor. punching ichigo would be pointless, and then rukia would get involved and he doesn’t have time to deal with the fallout from that so he keeps his hands to himself.

besides, his anger is obviously misdirected right now. he knows — he knows —but he doesn’t care, so he doesn’t mince his words when he responds with, “go after who?” through his peripheral, he can see ichigo’s patience has also reached its limit.

“you’re not that stupid, so stop acting like it.”

normally, renji would take the opportunity to mes s around and argue back and forth, but he might actually fight his friend if he doesn’t walk away. so, he does; abrupt and without looking back, footsteps heavy on the hardwood floor.

maybe he just needs to change his approach with you, maybe talking things out would work in his favor; or maybe he needs to fuck you hard enough to purge you from his mind.

he lies to himself when he considers the first option, because it’s the second option that drives him to walk a little faster, head full of impossible thoughts as he wonders just how far you’d let him go.

when renji finally finds you, you’re in the middle of rebuffing the advances of an unfamiliar guest — they’re drunk, handsy, and keep oscillating between giving you cheesy pick-up lines and berating you for rejecting them. but you stand firm, and your voice is relatively loud when you tell them, “for the last fucking time, go away.”

under normal circumstances, renji would let you handle this yourself; he has no desire to play prince charming or be a knight in shining armor. you’re more than capable, and he’s seen the way you fight and argue to defend yourself — but, it’s when they place a wandering hand on your hip that he loses sight of all of that.

a brief moment passes, where your blood boils as you contemplate how best to kick their ass, but you never get the chance. a rather large shadow hovers over you both, but you already know who it is without having to look properly.

renji is a force to be reckoned with on a good day, but he’s at his fucking limit right now.

he doesn’t ask, doesn’t give any options for retreat, doesn’t say a word when he yanks them off with a brute strength that surprises even you.

now, can he really be blamed for throwing them into the neighboring wall hard enough to make a noticeable hole? and is it really his fault that the drunk can hardly walk as they clutch their broken arm while murmuring something unintelligible, something that renji takes as a sign of them wanting a repeat demonstration?

consequences be damned, he gives the drunk a lethal look before they scramble away in fear.

“loser,” he says loud enough for them to hear, but they don’t double back or even try to go toe-to-toe with the hot-headed lieutenant. you watch, half-amused and half-impressed with the unnecessary machismo, but still, you know better than to chastise him right now, especially when your heart sputters out of control from his proximity.

“…thanks,” you say, a faint flush on your cheeks, voice soft, head fuzzy when you realize that renji — aka mr. “i’ll fight you on everything any day of the week unprovoked for no reason other than to drive you crazy” — saved you. unprompted at that.

you make the mistake of looking up at him, your nerves prompting you to take a small step back when you realize that the usual hostility that renji reserves for you specifically is nowhere to be found. in its place is something more unreadable — or, rather, you don’t want to read into it for fear of being wrong.

renji steps closer, which makes you back up again until your back hits the wall and you’re no longer able to escape.

“we need to talk,” he says suddenly, but you shake your head, non-verbally objecting to the idea, curls bouncing wildly with your exaggerated movements. since he knows he’s pressed for time, he grabs your face with his large hand and stops you from moving. “that wasn’t a request.”

swallowing rusty nails would be better than dealing with your conflicting feelings over renji right now, because he’s much too close to you and now you’re forgetting why it is you hate him in the first place. ironically, he’s in the exact same position. so far, he’s acted on impulse over you more times than he can count tonight, but he supposes that’s to be expected — you are a wildcard, after all.

“what if i don’t want to.” your response is clumsy, the words tumbling one after the other. “what if i want you to leave?” you don’t actually mean that, but you throw it at him anyway, to see if maybe this was all a fluke, and maybe, just maybe he’ll remember himself and you both can go back to fighting like usual.

he considers your question, goes so far as to release your face to wrap his hand around your throat instead. your sharp inhale and parted lips tell him all he needs to know.

with a slightly raised brow, he asks, “well, do you?”

because if you do, he’ll walk away right now. but he knows what your answer will be, he just has to drag it out of you. he squeezes your neck to remind you to hurry it up, and before you can answer him properly, he places his leg in between yours, pressing close enough that you roll your hips forward while whimpering softly.

he really didn’t think any of this through, but luckily the adrenaline from it all won’t wear off anytime soon, so he’ll improvise along the way. he spent most of the night dealing with a semi-hard cock that wouldn’t listen to reason no matter how many times he tried to stop thinking about you. but now? all of that restraint goes out of the window, and before he can question it, he kisses you.

you’ve kissed plenty of people in your life — some good, most were mediocre and uninspiring — but renji actually takes your breath away. everything about him commands all your attention; from the way his lips move against yours greedily, leaving behind burning kisses that make your nipples harden underneath your clothes — to the way he thrusts his tongue in between your plush lips, licking inside of your mouth hotly, igniting an inextinguishable flame deep inside of you.

he grabs your hip with his free hand, squeezing hard, fingers digging firmly. all the irritation from earlier dissipates completely, leaving you feeling lightheaded and needy; you grind against him recklessly, arousal dampening the front of your panties, clit sensitive as it rubs against the delicate fabric. his cock presses against you — thick, long, and hard — and you wonder if this is why he’s so angry with you all the time.

was it always that simple?

if you asked the question aloud, he wouldn’t know what to tell you — it’s a combination of things, but mostly he’s an idiot; he knows that now, but likewise you’re an idiot too. you just don’t realize it yet.

it’s renji who pulls away first, lightly panting, breath warm against your lips as he releases his hold on your neck. he doesn’t know where he finds the strength to string together a coherent statement, but his voice is low and husky when he speaks. “answer my question.”

you blink at him, completely in a daze, lips slightly swollen from all the kissing. “wh-what?” you don’t remember what he asked you, and you don’t care.

“do you want me to leave?”

for some reason, you completely forgot that you told him that. you rub your lips together and run your hands along his chest. “no.” the answer comes out automatically, without hesitation, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

“good.”

SAY X IT X LOUDER

he picks you up with ease, almost as if you weigh nothing; a small squeal spills out of you as you wrap your legs around his waist, and renji gives you a sly smile — one laced with mischief and an unspoken promise of what’s to come.

you’re back in the bathroom again, this time sitting on the counter with renji standing in between your legs. his hands coast along your curvy hips and down your thighs. he’s touching you but he’s not touching you and it’s driving you crazy.

with hurried, eager hands you both undress, and for the umpteenth time you internally curse this style of uniform; still, it doesn’t take too long before his hands are on you again, calloused palms rough and warm against your skin. he places a kiss on your jaw, then another on your neck right underneath your earlobe; each kiss he leaves behind distorts your common sense, makes you feel irrational and impatient. your hands are soft and well-practiced, stroking his stiff cock as his hips jerk forward from your touch.

he can’t remember the last time someone had him this worked up, which pisses him off a little; because that means him fucking you once won’t settle things. at that thought, renji bites your neck and your startled yelp quickly morphs into a moan when he runs his tongue along the mark. he dips his hand in between your thighs, rubbing his thick fingers against your slit. a loud banging on the door has you looking over, and you can’t remember if he bothered to lock it once you both were inside.

your attention nearly falters, but when he pinches your clit you buck your hips, a shiver shooting down your spine at the slight pain.

“eyes on me,” is all he says, seemingly annoyed that you would dare to focus your attention elsewhere, “always keep them on me.” what he means by that, he doesn’t know, but you take the command at face value and nod while swallowing. he slides a finger inside of your wet pussy, and while you initially wanted to keep quiet to avoid suspicion and to prevent anyone from intruding, but you can’t now.

“renji,” you breathe, fingers trembling as you hold onto the counter for support, he thrusts his finger in and out, quick and hard, before inserting another. you clench around him, hips rocking forward as he fingerfucks you and grinds his palm against your clit. you close your eyes and moan louder than you mean to, chest heaving, thoughts jumbled and incoherent. he scissors his fingers inside of you, but quickly removes them without prompting.

“fuck!” you open your eyes again and stare at him in disbelief. “why did you stop?”

he laughs darkly and grabs your face roughly, fingers pressing into your soft skin without remorse. “what did i tell you earlier?” everything about this situation is laughable. he gave you very specific instructions, ones he thought were easy enough for you to follow. for some reason your movements are sluggish, mind in a haze as you scramble to remember but nothing comes to mind.

as you open and close your mouth, looking every bit as adorable as you are alluring, he decides to show you a bit of kindness.

“get down.” his command comes swift, his patience practically nonexistent; precum glides down the head of his thick cock, but he ignores it for the sake of teaching you a lesson. you don’t bother waiting for him to repeat himself and slide off the counter. “turn around.”

like a doll, your movements are dictated by renji with simple, short statements. nothing about that phases you, though; it’s all very exciting, so when you do turn to face the counter, you bend forward and lean over the counter. renji admires the roundness of your ass and slaps it hard.

again, you find yourself moaning loudly, without shame and not caring about the volume of your voice. surely the others won’t pay attention, as they’re still very drunk and are entertaining themselves with more games. another slap on your ass has you grabbing onto the counter again, legs shaking, arousal dripping between your thighs in anticipation. if renji doesn’t fuck you soon, you might actually die.

he knows he’s taking too damn long, but it’s much more interesting making you work for him. he rubs the tip of his cock against your puffy pussy, gliding it in between your slick folds, your moans sweetly wrapping around him once he pushes inside of you slowly. someone bangs on the door again, making you look over, anxiety quickly filling your head with unnecessary what ifs that almost command your full attention.

with narrowed eyes, renji grabs onto your hair, curls soft in his hand, and yanks hard.

“the fuck did i say earlier?”

goosebumps travel down your arms as a different kind of awareness and clarity surges through you quickly. you blink at your reflection, watching the way he towers over you, his muscles hard and defined — sculpted from years of training and dedication to honing his skills. it hits you then, what he’s really asking you.

“to,” you swallow thickly, throat dry, “to keep my eyes on you always.” you say it all in one breath, gasping when he runs his tongue along the curve of your ear. you don’t know how much more you can take, but you know if you complain, if you say anything he might stop altogether.

renji’s smile is wicked and dark, his lips graze your earlobe, voice deep and gravelly, a huskiness that wasn’t there before as he thrusts into you, burying his cock deeply.

“good girl.”

he refrains from kissing you properly, instead pushing you down so you can lean over the counter again. your mind melts from it all, and you’re panting, heart beating faster and faster as he firmly places a hand on your back.

“you’re squeezing me so tight,” he remarks thoughtfully, although you note the slight strain in his voice; as much as he tries to act like he’s not that affected by you, you know that isn’t the case at all. your pussy is every bit as enticing and heavenly as he knew it would be; he pulls back and slams his cock into you all over again, filling you completely. you try to keep watching him in the mirror, but he’s fucking you like he’s angry with himself for being so attracted to you.

and he absolutely is. it’s a truth he fought against for so long that he’s given up on denying it now. your moans drip onto his skin like caramel, sticky and sweet, and when you say his name like that — your voice going higher and higher from the ferocity of his thrusts — he nearly loses his mind.

“fuck,” he says out loud, grabbing your hip roughly, your wetness coating the length of his cock, “you’re taking me so well.” he knows you can’t really answer him, and he likes that; you’re beyond caring at this point, instead focusing on the way his cock reaches a spot that has you bouncing your ass and fucking yourself against him. normally, renji would play around and edge you in retaliation, but he’s too far gone, completely under the spell of your pretty pussy, with how soft and tight it is.

you’re not sure how you got here, but you’re drowning in ecstasy right now. he instructs you to lift your leg to rest it onto the counter, pulling out momentarily to help you position and spread your legs further apart. he plunges his cock into you again, keeping his hips closer as he gives you shorter, frenzied thrusts. your head spins and you can’t think straight, but that doesn’t matter. all you care about is the way renji is angling his hips, rolling them forward to pound into your cunt roughly, balls heavy as they smack against your ass.

“oh, oh, oh.” you swear your life flashes before your eyes, because something possesses him, his strokes shorter, brutal, and frenetic. drool slides down your chin, your voice hoarse from how loud you’ve been. you’re sure someone’s heard you by now, but you don’t care.

how can you?

with renji fucking you like this — merciless and possessive, fingers brusing your skin, almost as if he wants to make sure you’ll be as obsessed with him as he is with you — your common decency, your morals, everything that makes you you, they don’t exist.

all that’s left is this burning desire to let him have his way with you for as long as he wants. thankfully, you have enough sense to not admit that out loud; who knows what kind smugness you’ll be subjected to if renji knew.

but you’re pretty damn transparent about it, he can tell from the way you can’t stop clenching your pussy around his cock, from how your pussy makes loud, lewd squelching noises — ones that he’ll commit to memory so he can revisit them from time to time.

tears roll down your cheeks and you sob as you hold onto the counter as best as you can, back arching, hips rocking against him with a neediness you never knew you had. there’s a tightening in your stomach and your pulse skyrocketing as a flash of white practically blinds you. he watches the way your pussy keeps swallowing the length of his cock, and you finally fall over the edge, orgasm suffocating you with its intensity.

your cunt flutters around him, gummy walls soft and hypnotic, an addiction he never thought he’d have; breathing heavily, his muscles tense and renji groans something that suspiciously sounds like your name. the thought alone makes your face burn and warms your chest in a way that doesn’t make sense. and when he finally cums, he humps into you, cum thick and hot as it spills inside your pussy, mixing with your slick wetness. a completely messy affair, but he doesn’t care — it’s not his bathroom, after all.

legs trembling, you’re limp and incapable of movement, whimpering and whining until he finally pulls out of you.

renji runs a hand down his face, feeling spent but more than satisfied. suddenly his shoulders aren’t so tight and tense, and his mood is much more tolerable. you do your best to stand but almost fall — your legs are useless, turned to jelly because of the man behind you. he chuckles at that, then clears his throat once he realizes. he fully expected there to be a moment of awkwardness after, but it never comes. when he sees your face — lips bruised and swollen, face flushed, eyes glazed with a faraway look — he feels compelled to kiss you again. so, he does. it’s not sweet, nor is it tender, but it still makes your heart swell all the same. he holds you close as you wrap your arms around his neck, doing your best to keep standing, even though your legs are ready to give out.

you don’t know exactly what any of this means, but you do understand him a bit better now. he’s terrible with expressing himself, but you kind of like that about him; and maybe this isn’t the healthiest relationship, but life was uncertain and you’d take renji fucking you like it’s his last day alive over him openly hating you any day.

[marichive]

𝐓 𝐎 𝐗 𝐈 𝐂 𝐈 𝐓 𝐀

A compilation of things a muse of mine has said. Ranges from 100% seriousness to absolute chaos (but mostly chaos). Change pronouns / etc. when sending as needed.

tw for drinking/alcohol mentions, suggestive content, violence mentions, lots of swearing / insults, other non-PG shenanigans.

❝ Get the heart eyes away from me. ❞

❝ I can't help it, I'm just too hot. ❞

❝ Was I supposed to NOT be mean? ❞

❝ I am what the boomers like to call a "delinquent". ❞

❝ Just think before you say anything, "would I say this to [name] for fun", and if the answer is yes, do not say that shit to her. ❞

❝ Aw, did that hurt your little feelings? ❞

❝ Oh dear god, what torture are you going to put me through now? ❞

❝ Words cannot express how much I hate the words that I just read with my own two eyes. ❞

❝ Call me [nickname] again and I'll break your face. ❞

❝ If you turn that into a sex joke I swear to god — ❞

❝ Cursed. Horrible. Disappointing. ❞

❝ Adorable that you think you're worth the effort. ❞

❝ The only kink here is gonna be the one in your fucking spine. ❞

❝ One, I'm not your babe. Two, I will fucking strangle you. ❞

❝ Do you have a death wish or something? ❞

❝ Feel like doing something ridiculous? ❞

❝ I feel like this is what happens before someone walks into an intervention. ❞

❝ My entire support system is having a crisis right now. ❞

❝ I'm just not ready to deal with it right now. ❞

❝ I'm not gonna try to fix things and get myself in another fight as a consequence. ❞

❝ I fucked up and kinda shut down before I could. ❞

❝ I don't know how to make this right. ❞

❝ Maybe he's better off without me. ❞

❝ You went right back to blaming me for everything the first chance you got. ❞

❝ I imagine it's hard for you to feel sorry for anyone at all. ❞

❝ I can't catch a fucking break. ❞

❝ I actually liked the idea that we could maybe be friends and move past everything, but you're always going to think the worst of me. ❞

❝ I guess I did ruin everything, didn't I? ❞

❝ I needed to win to prove to myself that I could do it. ❞

❝ No no, this one is actually a good idea! ❞

❝ See, this is why you're perfect for each other. ❞

❝ Maybe he'll be more receptive to it if you're there. Or at least less hostile about it. ❞

❝ I think you're probably the only person who could get through to him on this. ❞

❝ I've had to do a lot of things I didn't want to do to try to get by. I get what that's like. ❞

❝ You're not a snack, you're a whole damn meal. Don't be humble. ❞

❝ Soooo I might have done something. ❞

❝ He's too much of a petty bitch for that. ❞

❝ I'm going to terrorize him. ❞

❝ Guess I better get the bullying out of my system before then. ❞

❝ Wow, that's like, third base. ❞

❝ Hold my [object] while I kick ass for you. ❞

❝ You're the cutest duck, though. ❞

❝ That's the option with the least violence. ❞

❝ You're probably the only person I trust that much. ❞

❝ Okay that was cute, you can have a kiss for that one. ❞

❝ Um, that's me. I'm the Precious here. ❞

❝ I'm a scam of a person. ❞

❝ Don't worry, I'm sure all her murder energy is focused on [name]. ❞

❝ Want me to make mean faces at them? ❞

❝ There is something and I need you for impulse control. Or you can enable me, that's cool too. ❞

❝ Yeah but like, we're little shits by choice. He's a little shit out of hatred or spite or whatever the fuck fuels him to act like this. ❞

❝ I'm pretty sure my brain stopped working several times. ❞

❝ It's scandalous! I mean we're just SO wholesome and innocent. ❞

❝ People might start to think we're in love or something. ❞

❝ Getting kicked out of [location] sounds fun. ❞

❝ They are looking at me with their EYES. ❞

❝ . . . I've never seen that. ❞

❝ The trauma is half the fun. I'm just melodramatic. ❞

❝ Don't tell me how to breathe, mouth breather. ❞

❝ Why were you listening you fucking creature !? ❞

❝ Dude go to fucking therapy, I'm not even kidding. ❞

❝ I need to bleach my brain. ❞

❝ It was for safety purposes you nasty bastard! ❞

❝ Dishonor on you, gambling satan! ❞

❝ I don't know how you're still alive. ❞

❝ You call me the antichrist and accuse me of being pregnant at least three times per month. He gives me hugs and pizza. ❞

❝ No you're right, I set my expectations too high. ❞

❝ Why did you bet on THIS of all things oh my fucking god??? ❞

❝ Everyone's always like "[name] you have daddy issues" but I have no dad to have issues with so??? ❞

❝ I will beat you to death with your own limbs. ❞

❝ You Gary Busey lookin' bitch. ❞

❝ We have to watch you guys make bedroom eyes at each other all the time, we just want it to stop. ❞

❝ You use my horny behavior against me, it's only fair I get to use yours against you. ❞

❝ I have no sense of self preservation. It's why I get into so many fights. ❞

❝ Glad to know you approve of horrendously spiteful revenge tactics. ❞

❝ I may talk shit but I do worry about you. ❞

❝ Oh, I'm completely vile. I'm well aware. ❞

❝ At least I don't look like I got hit by a school bus because the driver thought you were a threat to the children on board. ❞

❝ Why are you the way that you are? I hate so much about the things you choose to be. ❞

❝ Well maybe you should, I don't know, talk to him about his trauma before you give him sex advice? Seems a bit out of order. ❞

❝ [name], don't touch my baby boy! ❞

❝ Did he drop kick my son !? ❞

❝ You told me you dropped [name/object] down the stairs, I do not trust you. ❞

❝ Say sike right now !! ❞

❝ Is this actually happening?? Am I having an aneurysm???? ❞

❝ I feel like this was a big accomplishment, we came out of this with no attempted murder. So it's a win. ❞

❝ Maybe we DO have the power of god and anime on our side. ❞

❝ I don't know if I trust you two drinking around each other. ❞

❝ I said behave oh my fucking god. ❞

❝ Do it for Voltron! ❞

❝ You like [food/brand/name], you clearly have no taste. ❞

❝ No breaking of the sacred pinky oath! ❞

❝ That was so stupid, but thanks for the attempted save. ❞

❝ I'm gonna hit you in the dick with a car while listening to the Power Rangers theme song, and I'm gonna have so much fun doing it, dickhead. ❞

❝ The rules are reasonable. The problem is that I am unreasonable and I know I will break them. ❞

[asukaskerian]

bleach - same verse as Howling Outside Your Door

ABO universe, worldbuilding + fallout from the main body of a grimmichi fic (in between fic and epilogue) : ichigo makes his way back home.

(it used to be that attempt at epilogue that stumped me for like six months.)

i'm not posting it on AO3 yet because the flow bothers me, idk about the ending lines, and also i want to put it inside a collection fic for that 'verse but i don't wanna start a collection when it's the only thing i can put in it. so like, i'll probably post it there if/when i manage another fic but for now, it's here.

--

So Ichigo did the walk of shame back to town in archaic underwear and what amounted to a mid-thigh bathrobe.

Fair enough, he told himself (and Hollow Zangetsu, who replied with nothing but snickering in the back of his head and a sensation of a door closing with a firm and definitive snap between them.)

Or... Maybe fair was the wrong word, but -- whatever. He didn't actually... mind. It would be embarrassing when he finally reached town, but --

No matter. Never mind. He would deal. It was just weird, being alone again.

He hopped over a tree trunk with casual disregard, and promptly caught his toe on it and tripped when his sleeve started ringing out of nowhere. His foot landed with a wet squelch in something unidentifiable; he plunged his hand down his sleeve to grab the spirit flip phone Urahara had somehow managed to inflict on him.

"Yeah? -- oh, gross."

"Who are you calling gross, little boy?"

-- Oh. He stopped walking, phone pressed to his ear and one foot still up, trying to flick the weird mush out from between his toes. "Rukia? They called you in?"

Just hearing her voice made his shoulders relax, his back straighten. 

"I came with the Captain-Commander." Her voice was all no-nonsense, extra-professional; Kyōraku was probably in the room with her. Ichigo tried not to feel too disappointed. He'd hoped... "Now Urahara-san tells us a garganta just opened and closed, can you confirm?"

"Yeah, they just left. Peacefully and with half of my house's entire stock of pillows."

He was rewarded with a little 'heh.' "And your estimated time of arrival at the shop?"

"Oh, uh." Ugh. Five minutes if he flew, but he didn't want to fly. "Fifte... thirty minutes. I gotta... stuff."

"Very well." She turned away from the phone, voice gone muffled as she relayed his words. Sigh.

"Alright," she said all at once, in such a different tone he almost startled. "I'm in the ladies' room. Tell me why you're coming back on foot. Are you brooding?"

Ichigo spluttered, and shoved a branch out of his face with a little more -- enthusiasm. (Relief.) "What the hell makes you think that?!"

"If you were injured you'd say so. You wouldn't make poor Inoue cry thinking of you limping back through rough terrain on your lonesome."

"...Mngh."  

"Also... Ichigo, I'm an alpha too. Do you think I don't understand how it might feel to devote a couple nights slaking a lover's lust and shielding their most intimate vulnerabilities only for them to disappear in the morning?"

He swallowed. Cleared his throat. "... I keep forgetting you're an alpha."

"Bullshit you do, you're just a deviant."

"Ugh, shut up. Nobody still goes by Sengoku era rules for friend groups."

Fewer and fewer people even still held onto it for actual packs in the Living World, but Soul Society, he knew, held firmly to that rule at least. A household might have several omegas, and definitely several betas, but more than one, unrelated alpha? Too shocking for their old-timey sensibilities. Kind of... queer. 

Rukia's voice went teasingly cloying. "There, there, it's okay if you consider me a senior alpha, a patriarch of sorts, a mentor in the ways of--"

"I really, really don't."

"Hmph. Upstart."

"You really missed an occasion to call me a whippersnapper there."

She clicked her tongue. "Drat, I really did. Lout?"

"Lout's a good one."

A moment of quiet fell between them. Ichigo tried to swallow back the choking feeling making its way up his throat.

He wished she were here, walking in the woods with him. Her and Chad and Renji. Ishida and Inoue and Tatsuki too, while he was at it, though he and Tatsuki were guaranteed to get into a brawl as long as he was still this choked up on hormones. Just thinking of his childhood friend even close enough to smell his omega on his skin made him bite back a growl. 

He'd probably still growl at Rukia, but not... Not the same way.

Not now that Grimmjow was gone, and his pack with him.

"Ow, fuck."

"Hm?"

"Stubbed my toe. Listen, Rukia..."

"Yes."

It's just stupid hormones, right? he wanted to ask. Nothing else. It's hormones and discovering so much all at once about a man who made such a strong impression on me back then, and I'm a bit shaken, and it will pass. Can you please tell me that? But he couldn't push out any of that. 

"Can you bring me clothes?" he asked instead. "Or my body, I should probably--"

He probably shouldn't get his body yet, actually. Kyōraku was here. 

Kyōraku was here about Mayuri.

"... Am I getting arrested?"

He didn't even have time to brace for the answer; Rukia immediately dismissed it with a snort. "Don't be ridiculous. They don't have the funds to repair the prison break damages."

"... Uh. Maybe I would... not escape..."

"You wouldn't have the time to turn around in your jail cell before all your friends rose up to break you out and you know it." A sigh. "I'm not saying there won't be... complications... but -- just get home, Ichigo. It'll be okay."

He sped up a little, in the end. 

Rukia met him at the edge of the woods with a new shihakusho, and the smile she pinched down was only a little bit teasing and a lot more sympathetic. He didn't want to growl at all.

He wanted to growl later on when he walked through the front of Urahara's shop past a double row of rank-and-file shinigami all side-eyeing him to find, in the tatami room behind it, the captain-commander sprawled out with a cup of "tea" in hand.

Inoue and Ishida and Chad were sitting there in front of him, in polite seiza, and for a second all Ichigo could see was 'a strange alpha around my pack' and 'a threat'.

Then Rukia whacked him between the shoulder blades, propelling him past the threshold, and Kyōraku -- quick shrewd glance, genial smile -- reclined some more, and waved. "Kurosaki-kun! Hello."

"... I'm not so close to losing control that you need to show me your belly, Kyōraku-san." Mostly because taking that opening to attack would be a mistake that would cost Ichigo his life, he was pretty sure. But still.

The man laughed. "Ah, but it helps, doesn't it."

Grumbling, Ichigo looked away. None of his pack looked rattled or unsure or scrunched-down; Ishida was on the cool side of reserved, but he always was around high-ranking shinigami, and Inoue and Chad looked like they'd been having a nice little talk before he came in. Ichigo made his way to the cushion they'd left empty in the middle and sat with a grumble, ignoring Ishida's pointed sniff.

"I don't suppose you could have taken a shower first," Ishida muttered. 

"Shut up. No."

Kyōraku straightened up a bit, leaning back on his hand but mostly vertical, legs crossed. Ichigo busied himself taking the bigger Zangetsu off his back to rest it on the floor beside him with the blade turned inwards, since Kyōraku had done the same with his sabers and they were apparently playing the antique version of the 'everybody is friendly here' game really insistently. 

(The shorter blade across the small of his back stayed put, though.)

"Ahh, does any of you need a little bit to reestablish scent mar--"

"No," Ishida and Ichigo chorused with disgust, and Inoue echoed with flailing hands when the man's eyes turned to her. 

Chad chuckled, looking away. In the middle of gracefully kneeling to sit at the side of the table, Rukia snorted, and then coughed delicately to try to cover it up.

"Hoo. Are you not a pack, then?"

"Yes we are."

"But you don't --"

The man was toying with his tea cup and looking pleasantly friendly. Ichigo's eyes narrowed. 

"Ah -- Tatskuki-chan agreed to be my designated heat partner before I met -- she's my best friend, you know?"

"Mnh. And in a traumatizing turn of events," Ishida added, "it turns out Kurosaki and I are related. Distantly, but I don't know of any distance that would be far enough, so--" 

"That's not what you're here to talk about," Ichigo interrupted, and only moderately felt bad. 

Mayuri had acted very certain that his little side trips were going to be met with a rap on his knuckles at the very worst. 

Ichigo should have been thinking of Nemu-san, who would probably mourn the bastard. Of all the important miracles the man had probably accomplished in the name of Soul Society, or was still in the middle of bringing forth.

All he could think was, 'he made Grimmjow's packmates turn on him and was smug about it', and try as he may to bury it, the thought just kept echoing with what he had felt back when Tsukishima took the people he loved. That raw despair, that powerlessness.

Ichigo was a very civilized alpha, from one of the most restrained and polite countries in the world. He liked Kyōraku. He respected Kyōraku. He still growled. 

Kyōraku watched him without saying anything for a moment, head tilted. 

"I don't suppose an official mutual apology to soothe ruffled feathers is in the cards then."

Ichigo's jaw ached. "I'll apologize to Nemu-san."

Rukia inhaled slowly between her teeth, hands fisted on her knees. "... Ah. The Central 46..." 

Kyōraku hummed, watching him. Ichigo stared back. At his side his friends didn't know why he had taken this hard tone, but they still straightened up, hardening their resolve to match, to shore him up. 

"Well! You're a very young human startled in a very delicate, very irrational moment. Kurotsuchi-taicho should have known better."

"Kurosaki-san is extremely regretful, I'm sure," Rukia lied with her 'Nobles don't have emotions, only prissiness' face on. "Emotional. Terrible for all involved."

And Ichigo knew what they were doing, knew this was saving face and nothing else, agreeing on a half-assed lie to sell those other guys, knew that shoving their noses in the truth would only be annoying for everyone, but he -- but.

Grimmjow. Ed. Di Roy.

Not a single one of them mattered one whit to the Central 46. Just vermin. 

"I don't understand why you kept him," he said.

"Ah... Kurosaki-kun." And now Kyōraku looked sad. Pitying. Ichigo liked him, he reminded himself again.

"I understand he was really useful. And you lost Urahara, so it was him or nothing."

"Mmh." Kyōraku rolled the cup in his hand slowly. "That and we sometimes needed someone who could make the hard decisions fast. Ruthless."

"The problem was that he also made easy decisions fast -- as long as they were easy for him." Ichigo speared him with a look. "You are ruthless. He was a sociopath."

Kyōraku paused, hand gone still, gaze briefly turned inwards. "...Ah."

"If we could go and find his secret labs. How many of his projects would be useful, even if they're horrible, and how many would be something the council in charge would close their eyes on in order to keep him happy? Who approved him torturing arrancar, when Harribel-san asked to get them back? Was it just because she hadn't heard about those ones, so hey, great, a loophole? What else was he doing?!" 

... Ah. Rukia's hand was on his hand, which was clenched in a fist on the table. Ichigo was halfway out of his seat. Okay. Alright. Breathe. 

... Breathe.

Ichigo was just a normal human young adult. Lecturing a military leader of hundreds, thousands of people felt -- wrong. Disrespectful. They had centuries of tradition he knew nothing about, political and social pressure from places he had no idea about. As an outsider, it was easy to be idealistic. 

It wasn't his job to sort them out, so why was it his job?! He tilted his head back, breathing deeply as he stared at the ceiling, and turned his hand in Rukia's grasp so he could grasp her back. Tight pressure, anchoring. Chad's hand on his other shoulder, gentle and warm.

He'd killed Mayuri out of hand, and that part terrified him. That he had decided, 'this man brings nothing to the world that would pay for who he is,' and erased him. That he was able to do that.

It hadn't felt like righteous anger at all. Or like self-defense. It had felt like handing down judgment. 

"Ichigo?" Rukia asked.

'Was it the wrong judgment call to make, though?' he thought, or old man Zangetsu thought, or something murkier in between the two of them. Something cold and old and remote, that asked of his choice, 'Would you unmake it?', and the answer was no.

"Ichigo."

"Queasy," he managed to answer. Inoue immediately went rummaging in her backpack for a bottle of water, presenting it with a worried frown. He somehow managed a smile. The water was on the tepid side but still helped distract him, bring him back down. 

"Hormone hangover?" Ishida asked, sounding only vaguely interested in the way he did when he didn't want to betray any worry. "It's not actually an uncommon side effect."

"Ah... Maybe. What do you do to get over it?"

"Just sit in a room alone until it passes, honestly. I'm told it happens more often when there's several omegas at once," he added, and looked away, and Ichigo arched an eyebrow. The tip of Ishida's visible ear was a little red. Hm.

... Inoue was rummaging in her bag with twice the enthusiasm suddenly, and her face was pinkening rapidly.

Dang. Apparently he owed Tatsuki a fistbump.

Shaking his head, an amused smile on his lips, Ichigo turned back to Kyōraku. "Sorry, sorry. Just..."

The man chuckled quietly. "I understand." 

He drank his probably-doctored tea. Ichigo drank his water. Everyone concentrated on their cup for a little while. 

"... Anyways. What's going to happen now?"

"About Captain Kurotsuchi or about your arrancar?

"Or about Kurosaki," Ishida added waspishly. 

"Yes, yes. Well -- the Central 46 are going to have a meeting, and they're going to yell a lot about wanting a dangerously feral part-hollow with a track record of going against Soul Society contained somehow--"

It did not escape Ichigo's notice that the description matched him better than Grimmjow.

"And then I will regretfully explain to them that we don't have the manpower or the social capital for that. Nowadays Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez is almost as powerful as Tier Harribel and five times as lethal. She's not about to allow us to take away her strongest invasion deterrent, and she commands a good third of all hollows -- mostly the smarter ones."

"And the fact that he wouldn't have invaded if you guys weren't keeping his friends in a 'torture basement'?"

Kyōraku gave him such an empty smile Ichigo almost shuddered. "Ah, Kurosaki-kun, it's sweet that you can still be so innocent. It's entirely fair not to respect the word you gave to a hollow! Especially in the name of gaining better intelligence on our ancestral enemy. Greater good, and all that."

... Ugh.

So Grimmjow wasn't a person and his government was only respected for now because 'not enough manpower' and 'so far they're staying out of the way'. Then again the more Ichigo thought about the Court of Pure Souls and the more he wondered if they'd ever picked up the words "human rights violation" while passing by in the last century, because they sure didn't treat powerless human souls or even the members of their own military much better.

"So it's going to be brushed under the rug," Ishida concluded grimly.

"That part of it at least. The Central 46 might attempt to issue you a summons to explain yourself before their court."

"Huh." Not his idea of a great time, getting yelled at by self-important blowhards, but if it kept the peace, kept his good relations with the 13 Divisions intact...

He wasn't sure, though. The asshole council might take it as him agreeing that he was under their authority. He'd have to ask Urahara about how to proceed.

"Haa!" Kyōraku put his cup down with a little thwack. "Replacing him is going to be such a pain."

Ichigo grimaced, a pinch of irritation mixed with guilt. 

"Perhaps not," came from the other door, a panel sliding open to unveil Urahara himself, carrying a little plate with store-brand senbei artistically arranged on it. He looked ridiculously pleased with it.

(Nobody looked especially surprised at his sudden entrance, but then again they were all used to him by now.)

Ichigo stared at Urahara. Surely the man couldn't mean he would replace Mayuri. After everything Soul Society had done to him, how they'd thrown him out -- and he liked it here, he had a whole life with Yoruichi and Tessai and the kids and no oversight --

Ichigo was still in the middle of catching himself (no oversight -- that was the problem with Mayuri too--) when Urahara grinned brightly and went, "For a price, of course!"

"... You're going to make them pay through their noses, aren't you."

His smile turned sharper-edged. "Good. They might hold back unless it really matters, then."

--

Rukia stayed behind, afterwards -- nominally to supervise the Tenth Division squad who was going to stay on site for cleanup, but after she was done saluting Kyōraku as he left and giving quick directions to her subordinates she followed Ichigo and his pack right back inside the shop.

Then they took over one of the tatami side rooms -- not the one that still smelled like Kyōraku -- and when Ichigo slumped down in the middle they kind of all sat with him. 

Not on him, the way Grimmjow's pack had done with each other, not languid and close, all nonchalant and uncaring about an ankle draped over another ankle or a friendly punch to the nearest shoulder just passing by. But near enough. Nobody was in heat or anything, and besides they weren't Europeans. 

Right now he was kind of butthurt about that. PDAs were so embarrassing but a side-hug might be ... not entirely horrible today.

"How's the hangover?" Chad asked, a big paw on his shoulder. It wasn't as big as Ed's hands, or as fever-warm -- the guy had a fire shikai or the equivalent, he was almost sure -- but it was good. Ichigo sighed.

"Meh." He flicked him a smile. "Better now."

Quiet for a little while. Inoue had found another water bottle in her bottomless bag. Ichigo sipped at it, talking himself down.

It was all fine now. It was over.

"Your house is fixed, by the way! Ah -- it's still very dusty, Ishida-kun didn't let me--"

"I can handle a broom, Inoue-san!" Ishida protested. "I can't let you do everything and exhaust yourself like this. Also the drapes needed an upgrade, when's the last time they were changed?"

"Probably when mom was still around," Ichigo said thoughtlessly, and shrugged through the familiar pinch of pain. "I don't mind if you add frills, but you should ask Yuzu and Karin. They probably have a whole binder of decoration stuff..."

... Actually he kinda minded a little. Were Ishida's embellishments ridiculous? Yeah, yeah they were. But he still didn't want--

"Ichigo?" Rukia asked, sinking down into seiza at his side, head tilted to watch his face. "Bad thought?"

"No, no. Just woolgathering." What a weird train of thought. 

He didn't want Ishida to decorate his dad's home.

He wouldn't mind if it were his own place with the lace doilies for drapes, though. And Inoue could bring a huge plushie or strange fridge art, and Chad band posters, or hell, he could do his own room the way he wanted, and Rukia --

Well, she could do her own closet the way she liked it, too, he didn't judge, though he'd have to procure one big enough to fold Renji into first. Tatsuki could have the house next door with a room each for their two pack omegas and put a little gate between their yards, and he would piss her off by leaving his nerdy books all over her living room.

"... You're aware that you're whining, right?"

Ichigo was, in fact, whining. Very quietly in his throat, while having the stupidest domestic fantasy out of nowhere--

"So!" Rukia interrupted his idiocy, slapping her hands on her thighs. "The guy who put an arm through my guts that one time."

"--fuck."

"Also put his arm through other people around Inoue, as far as I heard. Also some Quincy. And... also promised to kill you? Gruesomely?"

Groaning, Ichigo sank into himself, both hands on his face. "He also put his hand halfway through me one or two times," he admitted, hoping it was muffled enough that nobody would understand him.

"... Well."

Ichigo groaned again. Yeah, uh. Okay. His tastes were apparently shit --

"Don't make that face," Rukia said, a little awkwardly, and elbowed him in the side as she sat next to him. "If you didn't blow through troops of assholes and came back out with three new best friends, would you even be Ichigo?"

Chad laughed, quiet and deep. Ichigo growl-whined some more. 

"I was just saying! That I feel like, I don't even need to ask you what he's like in bed."

Ichigo spluttered.

"Well, I do!" Inoue declared, earnest and blushing even as she met his eyes. "H-how was the sex, Kurosaki-kun?"

... She still said 'sex' like it was a super forbidden extra-shocking word their schoolteacher was gonna whack them over the head with, with an edge of earnest 'did you have fun with your new friend, sweetie?'. He deflated all over again, his whine acquiring an edge of despairing laughter.

"... He asked me to be there for his next heat."

"Oooooooh." 

"I'm already planning the nest."

"Well! You're fucked," Ishida said with a tone that almost passed for sympathy, and they all took turns patting his back until the flustered misery had been beaten all the way out of him.

[wind-becomes-lightning]

Bye to Wind and Lightning

TLDR: I AM WHINY AND IM GOING TO MOVE BLOGS TO A SMALLER ONE WHERE NOBODY KNOWS ME. EITHER @kikuneesama FOR GENERAL STUFF OR @konohamaru-sensei FOR ANIME STUFF.

Did you know that in 2020 when the pandemic held us all in a chokehold I decided to reread One Piece and Bleach, but consciously decided not to touch Naruto, as if I knew that I'd be sucked in real bad if I read it again? I was right. In 2021, I randomly thought "No, I will read it now" and then I did and boom I talked about nothing else for that summer and to channel my thoughts I made this blog right here separate from my main and not as a sideblog. I wanted to start completely over at a different place.

I had a terrible summer in 2021, constant mental breakdown. I don't want to bore you with the details because you don't care, but just being back doing the stuff I loved when I was 16 was such a blessing. I was truly happy in the first months here, especially with the discord servers and the oc talk and the friends I made. My boyfriend commented on it all the time, that I looked so very happy. And I was! But these things never stay.

The problem with me is, I want community, I want to talk headcanons and to bitch about characters I don't like and promote ships I love and cry and laugh and hug all of you for liking the same things as me and at the same time I'm terrified of rejection, of people hating me, of people spreading lies behind my back. I guess school does traumatise you in some way.

I can't survive in a cutthroat fandom like this one, I take things too personally too quickly. I don't understand that if you, a normal person with your own wishes, likes a thing I don't like or dislike a thing I like it doesn't mean you automatically hate me. You are just a different person and that is ok! It's not you. It's me. NO I'm not just saying that. It really is me.

Did you know that when I started out here I didn't tag my stuff? Especially not my OC stuff (and I still rarely tag it). The fear that someone might find it, hate on it, send me hate, make fun of it etc, sits so deep that I rather have my work not be seen at all. Yet, I need the attention to keep going because without the reblogs and likes and asks I feel like an utter failure.

My boyfriend says I am not good with the public eye on me and he is probably right. I envy those of you who can stand their ground and be self confident in their arguments. I envy those who don't care what others say, who can block and move on, who don't get a knot in their stomach when someone they had nice interactions with unfollows. I shouldn't care, but I do.

On my first tumblr blog I never looked at my followers, I never got asks either or was deep in fandom or anything, but I reblogged my stuff and posted my thoughts and was feeling good. I love tumblr, its the best social media out there for a reason. Yet, with this one, I got so self conscious about my followers, about what I can and can't say. If my presence would offend or not etc etc.

I was kinda looking forward to 1000 Followers because it is an insane number, but now at 997 I'm throwing in the towel. Isn't that like giving up before the finish line? Maybe, but I'm so tired and I want to be unknown again. I want to be nobody again. I want the naruto fandom to move on and forget I was ever here.

So I'm leaving! Sorry, I guess! At least for a good while. I might be back to finish the requests still pending on this account and then disappear again, but I don't know if I'll ever permanently come back. If you by any chance really, really really care about my presence, you can find me under @kikuneesama as a general spam blog with all sorts of things and under @konohamaru-sensei for anime-only stuff. This is also where my Naruto posting will be moving.

If you are a moot I will follow you from Kikuneesama again.

Thanks, I guess, for over two years of hanging out. I'm sorry I am such a lame loser.

One thing is for sure: Though I am moving to a blog named after Konohamaru, Kakashi will always be my love.

tschüss und auf wiedersehen, ~Nisi

PS: I'll q this a couple of times so I'm sorry if you have to see it a few times in the next few days. I swear I'll be gone after that.

[recurring-polynya]

Idk if you’ve answered this question (sorry if you have) before, but how do you think Renji & Rukia first met ? What do you think their life was like originally before Soul Society ?

Pardon me if I'm reading this wrong, but...Rukia and Renji's first meeting is enshrined pretty thoroughly in canon? She rescued him from a water heist that was about to turn disastrous.

This is from Chapter 98/Episode 32: A Star and a Stray Dog, which is the first place you should be looking if you're interested in pre-canon Renruki lore.

As to the second part of your question...you mean before they died? What sort of lives did they have in the World of the Living?

I'm gonna pontificate, so I'll throw that under a cut

First off, I am fascinated with the fact that Kubo gives us nothing about what anyone's living life was like. On one hand, I would like to know everyone's pre-history, but on the other, I'm glad he didn't, like as a literary choice. The slate is supposed to be wiped clean. It doesn't matter. It's maddening, but also correct.

It's also one of those places that is just ✨fanfic free real estate✨ in terms of I think everyone should make up their own version for their blorbos, so of course I have them for Renji and Rukia. I have absolutely nothing to support these, they are just what I felt in my heart.

I have actually talked about Renji's beforedeath quite a bit, here and there in various fanfics, usual under the conceit that, particularly in their Inuzuri days, he would sometimes blurt out some half-remembered thing and then promptly forget it again. Here an excerpt from Chapter 3 of go places:

It’s an Alive Memory, Rukia is nearly certain. Most souls get them. All the boys did, from time to time. To Renji, it’s just brain dust. Whatever it is in Soul Society that makes people forget their lives also makes this memory detritus slippery to hold onto. Renji won’t think of this later, or attach any importance to this conversation. The funny thing is, after ten years of watching him stumble through these moments, Rukia probably has a better idea of what Renji’s life was like than he does. He lived on a farm of some sort. A small one, or at least his family grew a lot of their own food. He died of a fever. Nearly all of his Alive Memories involve his mother. Rukia is almost positive that Renji’s mother is the one who taught him to write. The sewing scissors were likely hers. In Rukia’s imagination, Renji’s mother is very tall and beautiful and kind. Rukia doesn’t need to use her imagination to know that Renji loved his mother very much.

Just to offer a little more detail--doing the math out, where Bleach starts in the early 00s, Rukia and Renji have been separated for 40 years and knew each other for 10 years before that, it would make a lot of sense for both of them to have died in WWII. However, I like to think that time is very wobbly, especially in the outer Rukon, so I like to make their deaths a little earlier-- specifically, I think that Renji died in the 1918 flu pandemic, which may have contributed to getting a plague spirit for a zanpakutou. That being said, my general vibe for his childhood is based on Kanta, the neighbor kid from My Neighbor Totoro, which takes place in the 50s. In any case, he had a pretty small and unremarkable life in rural Japan, aside from the fact that he was loved very much, which will never be unremarkable, no matter how common it may be.

I have written less about Rukia's beforedeath, mostly because she was too young when she died to have any phantom memories. [Note: I know there are some theories out there, based on some arcane clues that Kubo has dropped that Rukia may not actually be a normal soul and may be related to Hell. That's...fine. While I'm never going to say no to a storyline that centers Rukia, I really do hope that it comes to naught. Ichigo has enough Crazy Origin going on and I like the Rukia's backstory the way it is, so I'm just going to ignore all of that for the sake of this post]. Ahem! So, infant death is not anything surprising, or even really interesting, but what makes Rukia's kind of compelling is the fact that her much-older sister died at the same time. To me, this indicates either a natural disaster or a death-by-violence.

As I said above, there are infinity ways you can go with this, but to me, there were two important things I wanted to capture 1) given Renji's descriptions of Rukia having an inherent grace and nobility, and the idea that something about Hisana caught Byakuya's eye, I thought that maybe they should have been noble, and 2) I wanted them to live by the sea. I do not actually remember how I landed on this, but in the 1850s, a bunch of sea fortresses were constructed to protect Japan by attack from sea (see here for more detail). This was the tail end of the Edo period and I liked the idea that maybe Rukia came from an old samurai family, and her father was sent to oversee one of these coastal forts. Did they die in a bombardment? A bad storm? The Kanto earthquake? I never got that far. I'm not even sure if this is a realistic scenario, if they had civilians living there, etc, this was just a half-thought-out thing I came up with for a bonus chapter of a fanfic that someone requested once. The one other detail from that that I came up with and stand by is that I think there were more siblings in their family between Hisana and Rukia. I also like that this idea that makes Rukia somewhat older than Renji, even though the math is impossible and the points are made up anyway.

[bleachbleachbleach]

IBA CLAN AIN'T NUTTIN TA FUCK WIT

[Bleach 080]

I've said it before and I'll say it again, but when I think about how the Gotei functions at least 50% of the time I am thinking of it functioning like the Girl Scouts does. This scene feels very validating in that regard. Boy Scouts will show up for anything, including internal meetings, in full uniform. In Girl Scouts, when are you supposed to be wearing your uniform? Unclear, no one knows, maybe just during important ceremonies and when selling cookies. The same rules appear to apply for the VC badges here!

It doesn't surprise me that Renji hasn't had occasion to wear his badge, since he's been VC since like yesterday. But how long has Iba been VC? It's likely pure ceremony that they're required to wear it now. It establishes a sense of gravity within the situation, even though their mandatory meeting doesn't even have an agenda. They're just supposed to hurry up and wait. It's not as though anyone thinks the ryoka are going to see the badge and be like, "Oh, word? You're a vice-captain in the Gotei? Well, I'll see myself out, then. My bad!"

I'm not sure, really, what to make of this, but Iba's line--the first thing we ever hear a VC other than Renji say!--is:

こんとに強制されてハメる (hameru) んだワシ (washi) も初めてなんじゃけえの

ハメる (hameru): The verb 嵌める (hameru) is to slip something on/envelop something, like a ring; or gloves; or, in this case, the VC badge. But Iba chooses to use the katakana instead of the kanji here. When written in katakana, the innuendo can also be... to fuck? I don't know if that innuendo is his intention, or if he just wants to come across as very casual, but maybe Iba really hates the VC badge lol. I wouldn't blame him. In modern sports they have a similar thing for captains' bands, but they're elastic, and those are annoying. This big unwieldy piece is probably so much worse!

ワシ (washi): This is a masculine "I" pronoun with an old-school vibe that could be used when talking to subordinates or younger men (it's also a Hiroshima thing; see below), which suggests that although Renji and Iba are the same rank within the Gotei, Iba is older (and that this matters in some fashion). Hinamori reinforces this by calling him Iba-san, while Renji is Abarai-kun.

じゃけえ: This ending is another sign that Iba's speaking Hiroshima Japanese for some reason. That + his sunglasses + general tough guy aes = gangsta vibes.

With that set of justifications, I, personally, would translate Iba's line:

also this is why I don't get paid to translate things

👐

[slutshamethesquirrels]

the f.a.q 2.0

hey hey hey

so in an effort to make my blog more aesthetically pleasing to the eye, this is the faq, new & improved!! now, lets get down to business~

q: can i request a fic?

a: YES!!! absolutely we are now blood brothers. hit my ask box PLEASE! there's a read before you request post, accessible through my masterpost pinned to the top of my profile!

q: can you read my fic?

a: yes, however please do know i am the most judgemental prick when it comes to writing. i dont even like my own. 99% of the time, it is radio silence from me because,, again,, let me repeat: i am. what the ladies like to call. a prick.

q: can you critique my writing?

a: i'll answer your question with a question: would you like to sit on my face? bc thats where this is going. yes, yes, 1000000% YES dude please!!

q: why didnt you respond to my dm's? :(

a: could be several things. 1) you're a minor or ageless blog, 2) i have been busy asf, 3) i am a dumbass and opened it and then just didn't follow through bc goldfish brain, 4) i've entered some sort of anxiety driven hermit state in which nothing can help me except being alone for 5-10 business days. im so serious i really do this.

q: can you please please please update (insert fic name here)?

a: nothing pisses me off more than this. no. ill get there when i get there. leave me alone.

q: can we be moots?

a: 99% of the time, yeah! as long as your blog is primarily jjk content we're typically gucc.

q: why did you block me?

a: variety of reasons, im real liberal with the block button. most likely, i had a sneaking suspicion you aren't as old as you say you are. other than that i probably found your content offensive/annoying/disturbing. its rare for me to actually throw a hissy fit unperturbed, so if you posted something that made me uncomfy i probably just blocked, took a shot of bleach and went on about my life in silence like the "g" in lasagna.

q: can i provide critique on your writing?

a: yes queen/king/colonel my asks are open with anon and media enabled. i am not scared, and as long as you're courteous and professional i love to hear it!! however, i am known to clapback twice as hard if you're a dick so, fair warning

q: do you do tag lists?

a: no, sorry. it's just a lot to keep up with. i recommend following me on ao3 and turning on email notifs!

q: can i repost/translate/modify your works?

a: no, i have a knife and i am omw to your living quarters.

q: i have a question that isn't answered here!

a: asks are wide open and i love to yap!! hit me up! :)

Other good things to know:

this blog is pro-palestine, anti-genocide, and anti-war. no exceptions.

this blog is not spoiler-free. i tag all manga spoiler posts accordingly. block the tag and don't cry to me.

this blog is not appropriate for minors.

this blog does not support any serious threats or attempts to undermine gege akutami. fuck right off with that.

this blog is not for pro-shippers.

this blog will not write aged-up characters in a nsfw context. its just not comfy for me, y'all do you though.

[shi-daisy]

Surprise self-rec time! Pick 3 of your favorite things you’ve written and share them here, then put this in the inbox (anonymously or not) of your fellow writers to spread the positivity and help celebrate already written fics

(First of all, TUMBLR STRIKES AGAIN I HAVE NO IDEA WHY IT UNFOLLOWED YOU WHAT IS HAPPENING)

(Second of all, little side quest from me, tell me what inspired your fics, why you love them so much, how they came to be, etc etc, I wanna know ALL!!)

Absjkwk Tumblr is crazy don't worry about it this happens all the time. Okay time to gush!

I'll start with the oldest fic since I got a comment on it today and I was like 'oh right, I wrote you in 2018!'

Road to Redemption (Bleach)- This was spite concentrated basically. Bleach was my favorite anime until the abysmal final arc and the atrocious ending we got. So this was me rewriting it with every single thing I wanted and never got, getting all my pairs together and most importantly giving my favorite characters the endings I feel they deserved. It's been 8 years since the story's end and four since this fic was finished and while I still hate what went down in canon I am happy to have given my faves some peace in fanfic world. That's enough for me to take a break from this Fandom though I have two more sequels with the cast since I've loved them from 2010 onwards and that's probably gonna stick with me into old age. I just want them all to be happy.

Road to Ruin (Bleach)- Same as Road to Redemption but for the villians. Bleach has some of the best and most sympathetic villians you'll find. But the writer doesn't do much with them, so I said it f it and gave them all time to shine. You know how I love Tamlin? Well the same goes for Sosuke Aizen. That man owns my soul and if his writer won't hype him up then I shall. This is my favorite fic in terms of writing because is pure self indulgence and I adore the protagonist. I miss writing it so so much!

Five Missed Calls (Disventure Camp) - Not much to say here, it was mostly feels and headcanons that fueled this fic and for once the gods answer my prayers we might get a spinoff with the couple in question but back when I wrote it I was just angst ridden and needed some content to comfort me. Loads of people liked it tho, so I'm happy the sadness fueled headcanons were enjoyable.

A Court of Threads & Daisies (A Court of Thorns & Roses)- IF SJM WONT GIVE TAMLIN A HAPPY END ILL DO IT MYSELF ALSO FUCK YOU RHYSAND GO DIE IN A FIRE! Okay I'm calm now.

This was just meant to be fluff. It spiraled into more because this darn universe is so fun to play with and I really wanted everyone to find joy. (Not just Tamlin) So like with the Bleach fics I said 'Fuck it! Self indulgent rewrite it is!' It's been so fun to write this fic, the characters that became my favorites very quickly (Nemesis & Lazarus Ily ♥) the fluff, the headcanons, getting everyone to have their proper arcs and mostly spreading joy it's been a delight. More than the fic itself I love the people I've met and befriended because of it. As I hadn't thought of Acotar since 2017 but now it's rotting my mind again 😂 Most of all you and your support made this a delight for me to write and while I love the fic and will forever be glad I made it, what I love most about it it's that got me to meet you. Love you buddy!

A Court of Emerald & Sapphire (A Court of Thrones & Roses)- Like Road to Ruin it's a self indulgent prequel to the main fic that you can skip if you don't want the extra info but man do I love it. I'm thinking of editing and rewriting it to have more chapters because these ocs of mine have stolen my heart. They're baby and it's so much fun to plan a revolution with them against Rhysand. I wrote it as just extra info but it was a delight to make and I love my ocs so much. (Also my proud ass is thriving as the only Keir/Oc Acotar fic. That man is mine and mine alone 😈)

The Running Free (Danganronpa: Despair Time) - For as much as I love Danganronpa I don't often write for it as it's one of the rare fandoms where I don't take issue with the writing at all. This is just a one-shot with my crackship for this Fandom but it was fun to write and I love how despite it being super niche people seemed to enjoy it. Probably will be rendered null by canon if either of the characters involved is guilty when Chapter 2 concludes but hey, I have a sequel planned if that's the case 😉

A Court of Blaze & Sorrow (A Court of Thorns & Roses).- Acotad was meant to be 10 chapters of fluff and calling the IC out at the end...Why does it have two sequels?!?!? Anywho, the short story, I wanted to include Autumn in acotad but it was Tamlin's story so I gave Nesta and the Autumn Court their own fic. The long story, this fic is therpahy. Many things delved in it are there not just because I want to do the themes and characters justice but because they help me heal. Particularly addressing a though relationship with an abusive parent or a neglectful parent. In my case, mine's dead but even if it's been two years the struggles haven't fully left me and it's been therapeutic to handle that while tackling these characters who also have one parent who loves them yet (unwittingly) neglected them and one parent who limited their self expression, was physically and emotionally abusive, and in some cases even ignored the mental illnesses he himself exacerbated. It's not over yet but I feel really comforted by it and confident that I'll make everyone proud by the end.

The Jeweled Dragon (A Song of Ice & Fire)- Look you give me a rebellious princess that escapes and disowns her abusive family and becomes a badass sex worker plus she also never married had a bisexual polycule and refused the throne/ spat on the legacy of the fucker who abused her and I am yours baby! Saera Targaryen you are mother! Okay jokes aside her story fascinates me and while I love GRRM's attention to detail and meticulous planning I'm sad he didn't tell us more of what happened to her. So this is just my take on it. Also I loved some other characters here that deserved some love and more than to be a footnote in Westerosi history. They'll get their just desserts too but Saera is my star and I'm forever salty at HOTD for daring to sully her name. (Season 2 sucks and on behalf of Team Green I'm making a sequel and rescuing the babies from the TV writers!)

Heart to Heart (Disventure Camp)- It was gonna be a spite fueled one-shot. Then the season got so bad I had to rewrite (common theme here) also FUCK YOU CONNOR BLAKE, AND FUCK WHOEVER DECIDED TO BREAK UP THE BEST DUO OF THE SEASON ALEC AND RIYA ARE PEAK! End scream.

I don't wanna spoil much since you told me you want to get into this Fandom soon but I'll just say it's been such a delight to write this and to meet like minded people who wanted better for these characters and to give them better ends. (Also making my fave ship canon and running laps around the writers in the official show server has given me a fucking ego) It's so much fun to write. I love making angst romance and I am exicted to give my villianess girlie a befitting end.

Bonus:

Transformers fic (Transformers) with @maplesamurai - What's better than writing? Writing with your beloved bf!

Now this was just us being silly and coming up with goofy ocs but given the flexibility of the Transformers Fandom we chose to make our own story and it's been a blast, it's still a bunch of drafts but I am exited for it to be done and to share it with everyone because it has so much effort and love put into it that I am certain it will be beloved. Decepticon centric fic lets go we will give our badies their day in the sun! Also Maple is a freaking genius and a delight to write with, love you babe this has been so much fun!

Those are all the fics so far so I hope this has made you as giddy as me. Love ya bud!