#bleach scifi au

[saiiboat]

What are your ginran aus?

ohhhhhh boy. ok. lets start with the silly and go from there.

BLEACH RACING AU!!!!!!!!

its basically the cast of bleach if they all raced sailboats. its everything to me. Haven't decided yet if they race dinghies out of a club or if they race bigger sailboats and each division is a team. either way its silly and fun. ginran is important to this one (homoeroticism of sailing) but most of what ive written down is me just putting aizen into a situation

little blurb: "Aizen is the kind of guy who got into sailing to seem more sophisticated and then realized that he made it too much of his personality and so he's locked himself into self-inflicted psychic warfare with himself about how he would want nothing in the world more than to be anywhere but waxing a boat but if he backs out now everyone will know that he's just been doing it to look cool and thats actually so much worse. Everyone else sails because they either love it or theyve grown up around it enough that its like. what else would they do. Aizen though is playing 5d mental chess about whether or not people will think he's a poser if he stops showing up for practice"

SCI-FI AU!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fem!gin and robot!rangiku. Gin is a mechanic who found rangiku after she was tossed out for scrap by aizen. this one makes me insane. so fucking insane. the yuri of it all. the inherent eroticism of being a mechanic and working on the robot you're falling in love with. important to note that rangiku isnt an android like from dbh. she's very clearly a robot. think more along the lines of Pathfinder from apex legends

little blurb: "Mechanic Gin who ties her long hair back in a bun or perhaps a braid while working and who takes her gloves off with her teeth and takes a job directly under a ship's captain after she finds out that he's the captain that threw Rangiku out for scrap and she wears her hair long and it flows over her shoulders even while she works. Aizen comments that she reminds him a lot of another ship's captain that he knew years ago and she says "I'm not sure what yer talkin' about, Aizen-senchou" as she slowly takes apart his ship's interface from the inside"

MERCHANT SHIPPING AU!!!!!!

ficlet!!!!!

this is another one that ive been going insane about, mostly because im using it as an excuse to research tokugawa period japan and its shipping practices. thank you so much to Jakobina Arch from Whitman College for writing an absurd amount on this subject and also The Indian Ocean World Podcast for having her on their podcast. She's been my main source of both information and inspiration for starting this au LOL.

As young kids, Gin and Rangiku are taken in by Hirako Shinji, a strange but respectable captain of a merchant vessel. Aizen is a seemingly kind sailor on the ship, stuck doing gruntwork that he thinks he's above doing. In a fit of annoyance and ego, when he thinks no one is watching, he hurts Rangiku and threatens her not to tell anyone it was him. Eventually, Aizen leaves Hirako's crew, but Gin remembers him

Aizen kills and manipulates and slithers his way to the top of a trading company, and when Hirako's bezaisen faces being bought up by Aizen, Gin abandons the crew to join Aizen's. It's then a race against time to kill Aizen before he decides to go through with the purchase.

Hirako Shinji is their original captain. While Hirako-senchou works his crew hard and is a bit of a strange man, he is trusted by his crew to not cheat them of money, and to ultimately be a fair captain.

Izuru, Momo, and Renji are three young sailors on Aizen's crew. Momo works directly for Aizen and does his paperwork and navigation. She handles all of the important work that he simply signs off on. Despite her doing the brunt of the work, she respects the captain greatly.

When Gin joins the crew he works hard enough and freaks out enough of the other sailors that he earns his place as secondmate. Izuru takes a shining to him, and Gin enjoys having someone who respects him on the ship who he can also boss around.

Renji, Izuru and Momo's old friend who used to be on the same crew with them, had left work as a merchant sailor to instead serve a daimyou who had adopted his best friend.

Rangiku earns her salt as a master navigator and sailor after Gin leaves, becoming a trusted advisor to Hirako. She doesn't understand the reasoning of why Gin would abandon their crew, and she respects Hirako-senchou and the rest of the crew too much to abandon ship as well.

Hitsugaya is a 12 year old boy who has a strong mind for trade as well as sailing and navigation, and even the paperwork it involves. He comes onto the ship after Gin leaves, looking for information on the whereabouts of his older sister. Rangiku finds good company with him, even if she does like to tease him.

FLOWERS FOR ATONEMENT!!!!!!!!

ffa isnt an au so much as it is a fic im currently writing LOL it takes place after hueco mundo arc, and is based around Gin actually managing to kill Aizen and coming out unscathed. It's a lot about interpersonal relationships and Gin reconciling with not only Rangiku, but Izuru and Shinji (Who is temporary captain of the 5th while Momo is recovering) as well. Gin is whisked away to interrogation by 2nd company, so he isn't exactly given time with Rangiku directly after Aizen's death.

i put more of my writing in here than i thought i was going to, but i hope you enjoy either way LOLL

Snippet:

"I fucked Hisagi after you left."

She's sitting on the couch in her and Hitsugaya's office as Gin looks through the books in the bookcase behind her. Rangiku had chased her captain out of the office, promising to get paperwork done while he visited Hinamori. Of course, that had been the plan until Gin had quietly knocked and ducked into the office in the way he was so oft to do now.

She hears him stop flipping through one of the books. She swirls the sake in her cup and doesn't look behind her.

"Really? Hisagi? There's gotta be better choices than that."

"Bah! Like who?"

Gin makes a noise in his throat like a shrug. "Was he good?"

She tosses back the sake and rolls her shoulders. It pains her that she can't look more away from the conversation than Gin already being behind her. "I don't really remember; Kira and I were pretty wasted at that point."

Gin's silent for a minute, and it leaves Rangiku to stew in her thoughts.

"How is Izuru these days?"

Rangiku clenches her jaw. Her hands feel empty without sake in the cup, but moving to pour more feels like admitting defeat. She settles back into the couch and tilts her head towards him just enough to give him her ear. She still won't look at him. "Have you talked to him? Shouldn't a captain know how his lieutenant is?"

"Ah, for a lieutenant, he's pretty good at avoidin' his captain."

"And why do you think that is, Gin?" When she spins around to look at him, he's holding a poetry collection Hitsugaya had gifted her for New Years maybe 8 years ago. "Why in the name of the Soul King would Kira want to avoid you? Is it because you left? Is it because you played with his feelings? Because you used him and tossed him away? Is it because you didn't tell him what you were planning?" She should stop, she really should. She doesn't want to lose him again. "Why didn't you tell him, Gin? Why didn't you tell me?" She's staring at him, pleading him to say something, to say anything instead of just leaving again with no answer.

"He could've hurt one of ya."

Something in her heart breaks, and she doesn't even recognize what's happening before she breaks out into heavy, ugly sobs.

Gin hurries around to her side of the couch, past the wall she had put up between them. He catches the sake cup as it drops from her hands and hesitates for only a moment before gently (oh, so gently) relaxing her hands from where she had been digging her nails into her palms in its absence.

"Aw, c'mon, Ran. Ya don't need to cry."

He's standing in front of her with her hands held in his, and it feels like something in her chest is clawing to get out.

He kneels on the ground in front of her and she follows him, folding herself into the length of his body like she hadn't done in a hundred years, and his hands leave hers to wrap around her. His breath is on the top of her head and his fingers card softly through her hair. She grasps onto his haori and swears that she'll never let go.

It takes what seems like hours to find her voice, but eventually the words fall out of her mouth, "I only ever wanted you to stay."

"Then I won't ever leave again." He says it as easy as breathing, and she can't help but duck her head into him, giggling wetly.

"Stupid, stupid Gin. Is that all I had to say?" She unclasps her hands from the front of his haori and moves to wrap her arms around him, pulling herself closer. "If you aren't going anywhere, then I won't either." She moves her head back to look at him, and goes a bit crosseyed when she realizes how close their faces are. When her eyes are able to focus, she smiles. He looks soft. Happy. She pokes him in the cheek. "You still need to talk to Kira, Gin. Don't forget."

His eyes crinkle in a smile she knows is genuine. Only she gets to see this side of him. She wishes he would show it to other people. "I won't forget."

The finger poking into his cheek softens into what a more well-adjusted person may be brave enough to call a caress. Either way, she would have to be blind to miss the way he melts into the touch. "Promise?"

"Promise."

TIMELOOP FIC!!!!!!!!

this one doesn't actually belong to just me!!! its owned equally by @babygirlifier with some input on Rukia from @toomanydoors !! this one is specifically a rock musical bleach au, and the loop starts with momo and aizen in the office together, and ends with either momo dying or aizen escaping. its a whole lot of momo death, momo getting stronger, and momo coming into her own as a person separate from what aizen created her to be. of course, there is a lot of gin in this fic. he kills her a lot. but he's also a very strong ally once she figures out what she needs to say to him to get him to listen. there is a LOT about this fic that makes me insane, and a lot of ways that characters experience the wide array of horrors that the 3 of us are able to cook up. ill give you a fun little ginran moment though. of course.

blurb: "Just just imagining momo and rukia sitting off to the side and giving gin and rangiku space while the two of them have their heads ducked together and are talking quietly. in all of momo's time in these loops, she's never seen gin look so... tender. rukia keeps looking over momo's shoulder, unable to take her eyes off the two of them for too long. its understandable, momo reasons. it's a strange experience to see gin duck his head into rangiku's space, to see him hold her hands with such gentle care.

Gin agrees to help momo. this is the final loop."

[brokenangelwings22]

Okay good news about Gravity’s Ascension— it’s only 2-3 pages from completion.

The bad news? I have a concussion. Just a heads up.

No pun intended.

[lostcauses-noregrets]

Hi Lost! Do you know of any Eruri fics with unique premises? I know every fic is very different, but I'm looking for something I won't find anywhere else. Any suggestions?

Ooh that's an interesting ask! Here's a few of my favourite Eruri fics that aren't quite like anything else I've read.

Death Takes a Holiday by @flecksofpoppy

A uniquely atmospheric story inspired by Edward Hopper's painting Summertime and the 1934 film Death Takes a Holiday. This fic is as beautifully written as you would expect from Poppy and it has the most incredible dreamlike quality, while still being rooted in a very specific time period.

The Boy and the Beech Tree by @elivra-fanfiction

A lovely modern fairy tail that is touching, heartbreaking and uplifting in turn. I've lost count of the number of times I've read this fic and I can't walk past a beech tree without thinking of this story. Fun fact! There is a beech tree in my own fic Broken, which is a little nod to this beautiful story.

Good Captain by birbwin

Classic birbwin. Erwin goes for a shit in the forest, Levi follows him. That's it, that's the story. Don't let that put you off though, this is an achingly human portrait of devotion and trust, and because it's birbwin, the writing it spare and beautiful.

Sync by @elivra-fanfiction and @35gramsperliter

A classy and intriguing scifi fic from two brilliant writers. Levi is a bounty hunter, Erwin is the diplomat he kidnaps. The really unique thing about this fic is the sync, but I'm not going to spoil it by explaining what that is. This fic also deals with disability in a really nuanced and interesting way.

Wild-Type by @merkase An AU featuring shapeshifting dragons, fighting rings, obedience schools, Hallmark movies, frank discussions of interspecies sex, polar dragon racing, venomous mustelids, tea, and bleach 😭 There are plenty of other dragon fics out there, but what makes Wild-Type unique is the virtuoso world building and merkase's elegant writing.

The Sin Eater by @valisi-clark

An incredible AU that is by turns intimate and apocalyptic. Erwin is an untouchable sin eater, Levi is the man who takes him in when he flees the ghetto where the hereditary sin eaters are held under taboo.

The Astronomer’s Winter Over by @minxiebutt. 

A beautifully quiet and contemplative fic, that really capture the atmosphere and remoteness of the  Amundsen–Scott Station at the South Pole during the depths of the polar winter.

Can I include a couple of my own?

The Garwolf and the King by @lostcauses-noregrets

Okay, werewolf fics are hardly unique, but this one is a retelling of the tale of Bisclavret, one of the lais of Marie de France written in the late 12th century. The writing echos the style of the original.

Intruder by @lostcauses-noregrets

Honestly, you couldn't make it up....

[katastrophekidarchive]

kj space pirate au appearance/fashion hcs!!

Jacket hcs for the Four are here! Unfortunately I don’t have any pictures of the backs, but the embellishments would be the same as canon pretty much I guess.

Jet • Him tall. Big. • Probably the most traditionally piratical-looking of the Four • Cutlass to go along with his raygun • Blue & purple hair! I don’t think they bleach it, just dye it over their natural brown so it’s definitely visible but not like, neon. (Haven’t decided for sure yet if it’s going to be mixed in all galaxy-like or like, half and half. thank u to everyone who chimed in on the poll lol i hadn’t thought to do both until that)  • Haven’t decided if they have their eyepatch yet or not in this first fic either :/ :/ They’ll have one eventually tho!! Either way he looks bad@$$ • Stompy pirate boots, the kind with the big cuff folding down over the top. u know. • I’m feeling dark purple trousers?? They could either be loose for more of the pirate look or more like skinny jeans for more of the scifi look, idc • Earrings! Small hoops, I think, for everyday, but they probably switch them out when they want to be fancy

Ghoul • His signature green shade is super neon and loud • Truly awful hair, just chunks sticking up everywhere bc he just hacks bits off when it starts getting too long. Styles it in a messy mohawk sometimes • is That One Character who has miscellaneous weaponry stashed Everywhere. In shoes, stuffed in the endless cargo pockets of his vest jacket, in secret pockets, in pant legs, sleeves…. • Has a pair of machetes he keeps at his waist that are his favorite weapons when he has to go acoustic. He’s totally ambidextrous, but he only has the one raygun so sadly unless he can borrow another off of someone else in his crew he can’t go into laser claps two-handed • Does already have his mouth scar, and the opposite eye has an x scar cut over it too. (Eye’s fine tho, unlike Jet’s rip) • Almost laughably short but makes up for it with crackling energy and a vicious good humor, almost spiteful in its intensity. Always grinning that grin of his and making offensive jokes in the worst of deadly-serious situations.

Kobra • Would cut quite a dashing figure, if he weren’t such an awkward dork and constantly tripping over his own boots or falling off the rigging • (That said, he’s a d*mn good fencer, it’s like a whole different part of his brain clicks on.  A fencing rapier is his favorite acoustic. He’s a terrible shot with a raygun tho) • Perhaps a delicate snake tattoo winding up his neck? (Again, it’d make him look totally bad@$$ if he wasn’t so babey) • Long, slim, swishy red leather coat (picture linked earlier), just perfect for swashbuckling. • Still has his fingerless leather gloves. Great for racing and for Not Having To Touch Things • Maybe little stud earrings, just for a bit of shine without the danger of them catching on stuff

Poison • I feel like he has two full tattoo sleeves that he’s very proud of/vain about even though he wears his long-sleeved coat most of the time?? • His red hair shade is vivid, but not orangey. musicvideo!Poison’s hair is too bright and orange, but pirate!Poison’s isn’t rusty or dark exactly, either. idk • Has that swashbuckley/gunslinger thigh-holster crap going on for his raygun. Lots of extra straps and doohickeys because he thinks it’s cool (it is). • I’m playing around with the idea of him not having a sword, exactly, because he more prefers hand-to-hand over at-arms-length skirmishing when going acoustic. Maybe he has a switchblade he likes to whip out in close quarters

Bonus: Cherri • Blue hair streak! Of course!! Maybe even slightly longer hair than comics!Cherri • Classic white blouse, poet/pirate style, u know how it be • Coat something like this with that cape-thingy bit on top, a whatsitcalled. Majority of the time he can’t be assed to actually put his arms through the sleeves • Katana he borrows from Doc. Ooh maybe he could have a back sheath for it that would be cool. (Doesn’t carry his gun anymore, for reasons. Doc keeps his old one for him) • my freehaw-obsessed brain wants to give him a battered old stetson, but that’s sadly probably not true to the ‘verse • Maybe just a forehead scarf/bandana sometimes, yknow? • Adorkable round glasses for when he’s reading

And alas, the Fab Four have only one (1) classic pirate tri-corner hat between them. They each think they look coolest in it and fight over it and steal it from each other constantly

[asukaskerian]

WIP Sampler Basket

A meme for people with too many WIPS!

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Send me an ask with the title that most intrigues you and interests you and I’ll post a little snippet of it or tell you something about it!

@adiduck tagged me and i WILL get my revenge.

also y’all only get the WIPs until mid-2018 because otherwise i’m gonna be 3/4ths of your dash. quiet sob.

--

-madatobi ABO -grimmichihime - cuddle drugs -bleach ABO -grimmichinelhime suburb ot4 -madatobi - baby bro rescue -bloodsport timeskip -Untitled document -Bleach-daemon AU -grimmichi - superheroes AU -Bleach-daemon AU - Fullbringers fic -OC_Plagueconsorts-DHALIOn-IMMANUEL -Bleachwoofs -madatobiizu ABO 1 - cherry wine - complete -grimmichi in space -izutobi - baby bro rescue -LL_Kir -BT10 -Jaeger PsyWolves -mythological AU - secret dragon ichigo -soulmates AU -grimmichi haunting -OC_plagueconsorts-JOR -bloodsport edits -bloodsport frankenstein file -GG_daemons -MOTDP31 -Various fandoms - soulmates prompts -black_victorykiss silliness -LL edits for publications -LL_Tervel -Bleach-arrancar harem -bleach_time travel -bleach_space scifi AU -bleach_ possessive grimmjow -GWwlves11 -bleach_chantage thing -bleach - bonobos AU -bleach - 3 kings and queens -grimmichi_cannibal sequel ideas -bleach-vastolorde pronz -ofic_maleplanet -soriveli role reversal -GG_lu actually loves her kids AU -HS_family-sequel-reincarnations -VorWolves -GG_agatha kidnaps assorted redheads -ofic_nolan and werewolf -brodave_paleporn sequel

i tag. EVERYONE. everyone. no quarters.

[somedrunkpirate]

In the dark we travel (Geraskier scifi au part 4)

Ao3 | Tumblr: part 1, part 2, part 3 | Rating: M | Hurt/Comfort

Teaser: 

As if Geralt had the intention to. He feels unbound. The light— he’d been in darkness so long that even though the emergency LED sting his eyes, the illumination itself is like a balm. The dark had made more space for visions, for unreality. In here, there is only the light, the water, and Jaskier.

In here, it almost seems possible to accept he’s being cared for. That this is allowed.

Chapter 4 

There are no guards.

The observation stops Geralt in his tracks momentarily— he gets a vague sense that this is important information. There should be a reason why there are no guards. Guards do not just suddenly up and disappear. That’s not their job description. Guarding can’t be just a sporadic activity, whenever you feel like it, because then things like this happen: someone stumbles upon a door, unguarded, and could just go ahead and walk in.

But the idea is so deliciously simple that Geralt goes right ahead and does it, any thoughts of mysterious de-guarding completely melted from his mind. He’s lost in a sensation of relief that he doesn’t have to deal with fighting right now, when he’s barely sure what is real and what isn’t.

He also knows, vaguely, that three nights without sleep shouldn’t make him this out of it, but it's easy to just blame it on the stench and not waste his precious time thinking about stuff. His bursts of clarity must be used efficiently, and now he’s going to use them to burst the door open to the restricted waste, level three.

Medical waste, that is what he needs. There must be something in there he can mix together into some semblance of a sleeping concoction. He doesn’t have all his supplies anymore, but he has some, and he has his memories of chemistry lessons and picking herbs in the gardens. Whatever he makes might kill the average humanoid, but hopefully it will just knock him out.

And there are no guards, so this should be easy.

He slips through the hallway quietly— ignores the whispers and the mutterings and the footsteps coming out of the labyrinth behind him. False, he thinks, even if Roach isn’t here to hear. The guards have a specific sound when they walk. Those Coalition-issued working boots. These steps— far in the distance, sound more like feet, or paws, naked on the floor.

Guards do not take off their shoes. Not in their job description.

Geralt stealths his way to the door. It probably has alarms on it, but he doesn’t really give a shit, so he makes a sign and Ard does the rest.

He isn’t sure if the alarms are off, or if he isn’t able to hear them in the waft of new smells that come towards him. In either case, he isn’t going to be able to last a long time, so he better get going and find what he needs.

The third level is much smaller, about the height of a normal room, for once, and yellow lines direct to different sections. It is fairly easy to find the right general area, but when Geralt arrives and runs his eyes along the long rows of boxes, he realises that he is in no state of mind to read the labels.

He’s stunned, for a second. Completely at a loss for what to do. Slowly, like something bubbling up from a thick, muddy swamp, he develops a vague idea of just grabbing a big thing, and filling it with other little things, and figuring what to do with them later.

But before he can even get to that first step, there are more sounds— footsteps again. But these ones have shoes. Or at least, one set of them does. The others are hooves, and they come with a sense of frustration and determination.

“Oh fuck,” Geralt says.

It is almost night, and he’d promised— he’d promised Jaskier. He’d wanted to sleep, and he’s trying to find a way. A way that doesn’t ruin everything.

Jaskier had been distracted for the day. That afternoon, the light in the window had finally disappeared. The week of the void had started. So, as promised, Jaskier had performed Craven Rose. It had lasted for the better part of the evening, and Geralt still hadn’t been able to sleep.

“Geralt!”

Geralt takes a reflexive step back at the sound. Bad choice. He’d been right about the ship going low on funding, because the slight push of his shoulder sends the whole rack into motion, rusted screws snapping at the joints, it lists to the side, and one, two, three objects fall off the shelves.

Geralt manages to dodge two.

Jaskier has just skidded to a halt in front of him when the third— the largest, tips over and covers Geralt completely in some sort of chemical goo.

It burns his hands, his shoulders, his neck.

And then, finally, blessedly, Geralt passes out.

Geralt comes to swinging. Swinging, as in, the movement. He blinks his eyes open and realises he’s been thrown over Roach’s back. He groans.

“Geralt?”

Jaskier is beside him at once. Geralt has to crane his head strangely to look up and see his face. He’s met with an expression artfully combining worry and utter exasperation.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Geralt tries to say something, but the pressure of Roach’s back into his chest makes it hard to take a full breath. He lets himself slip off, landing on his feet only just. He’s lucky the tunnels here are barely 5 feet wide, because there is a wall behind him to catch him.

Jaskier makes an irritated noise and stalks around Roach, pointing a finger at him. “You are in no state to walk to the bathrooms, get back on Roach or I will—”

Geralt frowns at him, tunes out the rest of the threat as he tries to make sense of what Jaskier is saying. The however many minutes he’d been unconscious linger like a spirit boost in his body— he’s more in control of his senses than he’s been in a while, but Jaskier’s rapid fire reprimanding makes him feel slow and lost again, missing something. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling around Jaskier.

After a second, Geralt catches the source of his confusion and pulls at it. Finally able to speak, he asks, “Bathroom?”

Jaskier takes a very deliberate breath. “You’re a walking health hazard. You’re not gonna fight me on this.”

Geralt looks at his arms, legs, and has to acquiesce to the point. Whatever chemical he’s been doused in, it wasn’t strong enough to completely eat through his clothes. There are large areas that have been bleached, strange grey and white blobs among the dark fabric, but where his skin was covered, it was protected. The problem is the parts of him that were not.

His hands, for one. He’d held them up reflexively, trying to protect his face— mostly successful. Parts of his arms where he’d had his sleeves rolled up, and his neck where the goo slid down from where it landed on his shoulders. The back of his head is mostly left unblemished, his hair only a little burned at the ends.

For all Geralt has no desire for a walk of shame through the crowds of people, his pride has little priority in comparison of getting this fucking shit off of him as soon as possible.

Like hell he’s gonna be carried in there though.

Deciding that arguing the point would be more effort than it is worth, Geralt just starts walking.

“You goddamn bugfuck—” Jaskier seethes behind him.

Geralt sets his jaw. One foot, other foot. His hand stings as he drags it across the rough metal of the tunnel walls.

Jaskier keeps up easily with him. “You can’t honestly think you’re going to make it.”

“Survived worse,” Geralt grits out. It isn’t even a lie. This is nothing. Though he could do without the running commentary.

“I give you 30 seconds before you pass out again,” Jaskier says. “If you really want to walk in there, at least let me help— or Roach, if that's better. You won’t have a wall to lean on once we reach the hall.”

Geralt continues, forcing himself forward, but as the tunnel opens up, he has to concede to the argument.

He doesn’t want Roach anywhere near the crowd, and she can’t climb up those walkways anyway.

Once the hall is a handful of paces away, Geralt stills. He waits, leaning against the wall.

It takes only a few moments for Jaskier to take the hint. Without a word, Jaskier takes his arm and puts it over his shoulder. Geralt allows his weight to shift from his hand, still lingering on the wall, to Jaskier’s form. Jaskier takes it, surprisingly easily, and begins to walk at a steady pace.

It’s warm, comfortable. Quiet, for a little while.

Geralt tells Roach to go back to the containers, and not to worry.

She sends back a gentle impression of pressure, stability, warmth. She isn’t worried.

Geralt divorces himself from the thought. Doesn’t think about why.

It’s easy to be distracted. The closer they reach the light, the more eyes turn towards them, staring.

A different quiet envelops him. Not a kind one at all.

Conversation halts and they watch as the Ancienthunter enters their company for the first time, weakened, dirty. Pathetic.

Jaskier speaks up right when the weight of their eyes becomes almost unbearable.

“And this is why we don’t mess with the labyrinths, kids. Anything can fall out of those fucking drums when you least expect it.”

He says it lightly, but there is a tension beneath it that catches Geralt off-guard. Something he would’ve expected to be altered— covered, by the mod. Maybe it’s because he’s so close that he can hear the discrepancies. Or maybe Jaskier is distracted, isn’t using it as well as he normally is.

Regardless, the others don’t seem to hear it. His remark was both an acknowledgement of their staring, and an answer to the questions that motivated it. Now, the mystery solved to an extent, most are shaken into a reflex of manners— or any semblance of them they’ve been taught. Slowly conversation picks back up again, though there is more murmuring than not. Geralt could bet what the topic is.

“Corron, could you fly up and run the bath? We’re gonna need the big guns for this.”

The tall black and white feathered Decalon nods, already having wandered up to them, and lifts off with two big flaps of his wings. In the limited space, it is more like a long leap than flying, as he easily crests the edge of the highest walkway and slips into a door.

Geralt’s eyes trace from the apparent end goal down the four long angled sections of walkway that criss-cross diagonally against the wall. At this point, the journey seems like a special form of torture, but with an intense awareness of the eyes still watching behind him, Geralt gathers the last of his energy and sets forth, back straightened and face blank.

The trek feels all too similar to those first few days in Zevos, trying to trace some beast or another in the pale deserts of Bacovas. The region is merciless not only in its heat but in the heaviness of its air. Not humid, just heavy, every step taking that much more effort. Geralt hadn’t had the interest to find out whether it was biological, cheminal, gravity, or whatever else, but the result had been exhausting.

It had felt good— earned. Life had been too easy for a while there. It had felt fitting to be in a place where it took too much effort to run.

And now, he can’t run from this either— the stares, the quiet encouragement of Jaskier’s voice. The pull of his mod is back again, lulling him into an almost meditative state. He barely feels the burns anymore. The air is heavy, the lights are too bright, but somewhere, in his mind, he’s floating. Light.

“You’re almost there, Geralt, come on. You’re going to feel much better with all this off you.”

He’s— they’ve stopped walking. They’re in a room with showerheads mounted on the walls but in the corner, below two of them, lies a large tub.

Jaskier is talking still, his voice like the water, an even stream of warmth.

“Before you ask, yes, we found it in the Piles, and yes, we cleaned it thoroughly, and yes, you are not allowed to argue with me.”

As if Geralt had the intention to. He feels unbound. The light— he’d been in darkness so long that even though the emergency LED sting his eyes, the illumination itself is like a balm. The dark had made more space for visions, for unreality. In here, there is only the light, the water, and Jaskier.

In here, it almost seems possible to accept he’s being cared for. That this is allowed.

So Geralt doesn’t protest, doesn’t speak as Jaskier helps him out of his clothing. There is no room for humiliation in the warm fog that fills the room in white clouds. As Geralt sinks into the tub, Jaskier is muttering under his breath, throwing the clothes underneath another shower stream, saying “— about 90% chance they cannot be saved, though if you were to wear them again you might restart a bleached leather look once more. It’s been a few decades since that was in vogue.”

He pratters on and on, and Geralt lets it come over him. It is strangely soothing to know he isn’t alone.

There, enveloped in warmth, light and companionship, Geralt finally, finally, falls asleep.

“What am I going to do with you?”

Geralt blinks, becomes aware of his surroundings one sense at the time. He hears the voice— Jaskier, the shuffling of feet on tiles. He feels water, lukewarm around his body, and then his hands and arms, the tell-tale tugging and twitching of his skin that comes with augmented healing. He smells, lavender and thyme, all around him but especially in his hair.

And then he sees— Jaskier, half covered in fog, half uncovered of clothes, face in tense lines but dissolving at once when their eyes meet.

“You’re awake, I see,” he says, smiling. “I’d started to wonder whether I would have to drag you out to save you from dissolving.”

Geralt shifts in position and groans, his muscles aching from holding in a strange position for too long. “How long?”

“You got a good four hours in. Don’t worry, I haven’t been staring at you for that whole time. When I was sure you wouldn’t drown yourself, I checked in every once in a while. Threw in some stuff.” Jaskier holds up a little glass jar and dips in his fingers, “You know, bath salts, oils. It wouldn’t do just to have to rot in your own chemical waste water for the whole duration. Would kind of defeat the purpose of all this.”

As if to punctuate his sentence, he flicks his wrist and throws in a pinch of something shimmery.

Geralt presses his lips together. “My hair?”

Jaskier’s smile doesn’t let off, but his eyes flicker away for a second. “I— you.” He sighs. “You were out cold but kept your head above water. I didn’t know if the goo was on your head, so I rinsed it a little. Just some soap and water, all above board, I promise.”

Geralt has to fight the urge to curl up into himself. How could he have let himself be so defenseless? He trusts his body to wake at any irregular sensation, and to think he slept through someone touching him.

Jaskier must see something in his face, because his smile disappears and his hand goes to reach out, but then stops mid way, hesitant. “I’m sorry. I truly didn’t intend—” He takes a breath. “I wasn’t sure what else to do.”

You could have left me alone.

But Geralt knows that isn’t fair. He would have— he would have survived this, if it hadn’t been for Jaskier. But it would have been much more painful, and Geralt is so tired. Jaskier has had ample opportunity to hurt him before. He’s had the majority of the crowd under his control from the beginning. It would only take a few choice words to turn everyone against him. But he hasn’t done that. He’s only ever been kind. And while Geralt can’t let himself trust that— cannot be as naive to think that there isn’t something, some reason, why Jaskier is doing all this — he also can’t convince himself that Jaskier would have used his vulnerability in malicious ways.

Everything he’s been doing so far is to prevent Geralt from being that— to help him recover. If there is anyone malicious to his well being, it is Geralt himself.

And the speech mod could falsify care, warmth and earnesty. But it doesn’t affect the eyes, or— or a hand.

A hand, trembling slightly, reached out towards him before landing on the edge of a tub.

Jaskier is watching him still, searching. Waiting.

“I never asked,” Geralt ends up saying, but it isn’t— defensive, this time. His voice comes soft, low, almost confused. “You never had to—”

To care. To do this, to do any of this.

Relief so often comes with a laugh, these days. Jaskier chuckles and shakes his head. “And yet, here we are.”

Here they are, in a Garbagecraft rocketing through space. In a bathroom with rusty showerheads and orange emergency lighting.

In a moment of respite.

“Come,” Jaskier says, projecting calm. Geralt can hear what's underneath it. The hesitance, the worry, and the exhaustion too, of another kind. It’s a gift. “Let’s get you out of here and into a bunk.”

Geralt huffs, but takes his hand, allows himself to be pulled by more than a voice.

Allows himself to be led.

Allows himself, for just another moment, to be cared for.

He’s taken risks before. He’s done dangerous and reckless things and did not have one thought for the consequences.

But somehow, following Jaskier seems to be the greatest.

And for a moment, Geralt doesn’t have it in him to regret it.

[mousieta]

Saw this posted by @the-pen-pot​ and thought I’d give it a whirl.

Fandoms: past: Big Bang and various kpop fandoms; Current: MDSZ and Bleach

Number of fics: 88 - from ao3 but that's a mistake, one fic got posted twice so its actually 87

1. Fic you spent the most time on:  Until Whenever  Started working on it August 2015. Finished posting Feb 2019.

2. Fic you spent the least time on: I got a handful of little ficclets and such that probs only took a matter of moments but I don’t think they count. Of fics >1000 words, probably my Are You Human, Too fic Too Much Alcohol and Not enough. Knocked that out wicked quick.

3. Longest Fic: Until Whenever  - longest posted fic; WildKard, my unpublished Scifi AU is sitting at 158k at 2/3 done.

4. Shortest Fic: I got dozens of ficlets and drabbles. Apparently the shortest is a Daesung one.

5. Most hits: The Fime Times Chanyeol went Down and the One Time He Got Off

6. Most kudos:  Brojobs and Butterflies

7. Most comment threads: Until Whenever  

8. Fave Fic you wrote: The Only Night - because we all need ToBae platonic love

9. Fic you want to rewrite/expand on: I want to rewrite Brojobs and Butterflies - for reasons I would hope are obvious. I actually am planning to adapt it to a MDZS JC/WWX fic because why the heck not.

10. Share a bit of your WIP or share a story idea that you’re planning: Ok just gonna list out my active WIPs

KARD

WildKARD - A scifi found family story where our team comes together, falls in love, and saves the universe

Bleach

The Seduction of the Gotei 13 - Standalone series in which Ukitake and Kyoraku sleep with, well, everyone. Got at least 3-4 more planned

Some UraIchi fluffy get together. About 1/2 written

Toshiro and the Bear - a fairy tale about baby toshiro getting lost and saved by a protective mama bear (literally)

MDZS

The Taste of Revenge On Your Lips - XXC/XY canon fic, really just filling in the gaps on the growth of their relationships. heavy dark fic

In the Mirror - OC, Prostitute fic in which our character gains an admirer (Jiang Cheng) who has.... a host of issues.

Double Jaded Dagger - In which Wei Wuxian becomes the paramour of both Lan Bros. With a healthy dose of angst and some past Nielan

I shall tag: @queer-cosmos @saltskinandasociopath @cocoa-bop @diedinwarofhormones and.... anyone else who sees this tbh

[rukafais]

hey! i'm the anon from earlier, and i am BEGGING you, please give me all the text walls

oh god

WELL, WHAT TEXTWALL WOULD YOU LIKE TO POKE AT FIRST, BECAUSE /LOOKS AT AU SHIT

(for reference:

- space/scifi

- octopath/jrpg

- grimmknight/”the knight gets raised by circus uncle instead of raising themselves”

- bleach (least talked about but it has two separate setting timelines to sort everything out and a million designs because i’ve lost control of my life)

- otherworld (Still really vaguely defined, but probably Silent Hill-ish)

- something that doesn’t have a tag like “the knight was raised with HK and they end up swapping places to be the sacrifice so that HK can live their own life” or “baby gets adopted and becomes an archivist/Herrah’s second kid”

[blackkatmagic]

Prompts opening!

It is a very Bleach-y mood on this blog tonight, apparently, so! I’m going to open prompts for the next hour (that means from 9:30 EST to 10:30 EST) for Bleach ships. 

Let’s fill out some rare pair tags! Currently accepting prompts for:

Shuuhei/anyone, Nelliel/anyone, Starrk/anyone, Ukitake/Zaraki, Kaien/anyone, Bazz/anyone

Smut requests are ABSOLUTELY valid and very fun to write, so lmk if that’s your thing.

Prompts should have at least a little specificity. “GrimmShuu, scifi AU” is totally fine, as well as anything more specific, but please no “Anything for GrimmShuu!” requests.

As always, so not every prompt will be finished, sorry. I’ll try to get through as many as I have time/inspiration for, though.

[shiroxichigo]

Who is still active in the HichiIchi fandom?

If I'm gonna write a fic with my readers than I need to know how many there are. Also, once a theme and title is decided on, I'll be tagging future posts with that!

So:

like this post if you're a reader

comment a genre you'd like (fantasy, SciFi, adventure, etc.)

Also comment an au (dragon au, demon/angel au, or just Bleach universe)

Can't wait to get writing!

[dirtyretrowrites]

The Solar Clan 1

Fandom: Mamamoo Pairing: Wheesa, Moonsun Rating: T (for now) Word Count: 877 Tags: Vampire AU, mafia AU, scifi, angst, sexual themes, dark themes, TW: blood, violence Summary: No one knew it at the time, but that was the beginning of the Solar Clan. The notorious Solar Clan led by Queen Yongsun, an all-female crime syndicate known for their particularly cunning and brutal methods of business. A/N: Now posted as a full chapter on AO3 and AFF.

It was human error to assume a wooden stake through the heart could kill a vampire.

Folktales of angry mobs wielding pitchforks and torches and wooden stakes, shouting profanities and ill wishes at the wretched monsters that lurked the black of night, riddled human storybooks with false moral superiority.

It wasn’t the creatures of the night who were the monsters, it was the humans. With their easily-impressionable, feeble minds, mortals eager to boast their self-proclaimed righteousness tainted the twilight with their hatred for any who were different.

A time came when those who were different struck back. Armed with sharp claws and sharper teeth, those who were different drew blood. Upon the morning glory of their bloodbath, those who were different retreated into caves and caverns, leaving only bloodless caracasses for the buzzards to pick at.

Over time, isolation influenced evolution. Those who were different, those who sought blood, had violence coerced into their genetics as they hunted live meals. Village elders of human communities taught the children never to wander beyond the swamps where bones bleached white by sunlight built great ivory castles among the marsh. The savages who lived there, they explained to the children, were called vampires.

To err was human—but it was the error of the vampire to allow a human into their heart. Wooden stakes didn’t kill vampires, human compassion did.

In a time where humans understood very little about the world around them, vampirekind evolved greatly. Human medicine was weak, their streets were rancid, and their minds were infantile. Religion and politics scandalized civilizations, hindering human progress.

In 541 AD, the first pandemic of plague swept through the Mediterranean basin, killing most of the civilized world. As humans perished, vampires fed off their decaying bodies—consuming rich, healthy blood was impossible due to the devastation of the living population. In its destructive wake, the lingering plague introduced neophyte immunity to vampiric genetics from their desperate survival tactics.

In the thirteenth century, the second pandemic of plague pillaged Europe so swiftly, it was remembered by history as The Black Death. Humans, still infantile in their progress through earth’s timeline, took to cloaking themselves in heavy, black gowns with thick gloves, spectacles, and a bird-like mask that stowed bundles of dried herbs. They called themselves plague doctors, and they visited the homes of the sick to splice the buboes of plague on their ill-stricken bodies. Their efforts were futile, for The Black Death had permeated every crevice of Europe. Death was unavoidable, inevitable. Too few humans remained to even bury their dead.

Again, human bodies adorned the streets for hungry vampires to feast off of. Some vampires were not as lucky as others—perhaps they were sired from a poor bloodline—and The Black Death claimed them too. For those who survived, the exposure bolstered their neophyte immunity, evolving their very genes to withstand the perils of humankind.

And for some humans, if they begged on their hands and knees with tears in their eyes and sorrow in their hearts, vampirekind would grant them a merciful death so they would not wither from The Black Death. One woman in particular, the daughter of a merchant and a woman of childbearing age, did not beg for death—she begged for life, to be undead, to carry the spite she nursed in her bosom since her birth into the afterlife.

No one knew it at the time, but that was the beginning of the Solar Clan. The notorious Solar Clan led by Queen Yongsun, an all-female crime syndicate known for their particularly cunning and brutal methods of business.

Queen Yongsun wasn’t always a queen. To be a queen meant to slay and to conquer. In a world dominated by men and kings, a woman had to be undeniably terrifying to steal the crown. Yongsun was out for blood.

In just short of a decade, Yongsun shook the vampire world by slaughtering the elder who sired her, claiming he was ‘too delicate of a man to carry out business.’ Murder of an elder was more than disrespectful, it was heinous. In a time when the Council of Elders ordered for a more civilized existence of vampirekind—hoping to permanently stow away memories of blatant savagery of decaying human bodies due to catastrophic thirst for blood in times of old—Yongsun rebelled in the worst way.

She was shunned by traditionalist vampires. A target on her back, she dodged attempts at her life for years. She fed for sustenance, and if her mortal victim was pretty, she’d turn them; promising her fledgling vampire childe the world, she fueled them with empty compliments and great sex—unbeknownst to them, she used them as pawns in the deadly game she played with the Council of Elders. Bloodlust consumed her just as rage did.

All empathy she felt as a human died the night she sliced the last remaining elder’s throat.

That was the night vampirekind saw a shift in power. Vampirekind was now a matriarchy led by the most gruesome, beautiful vampiress to have ever lived.

With Queen Yongsun, a new bloodline impervious to human illness began. A bloodline, the Solar Clan, cradling human civilization in its bloody hands. A bloodline so divine it was beyond human error, vampire error, all error…

Or so she thought.

[imatroopertoo]

I watched half of the new Guardians of the galaxy movie today (stupid internet crapped out) and noticed StarLord and Renji have the same sideburns... And now I can't stop thinking about writing a SciFi Bleach AU even though I havent wrote fanfic in a decade.

[musaesidereum]

❖ au masterlist; rohan

chartreuse graphics design student AU #r au: university

Though Rohan has more than enough talent to make it big even without a degree to his name, Rohan decided that it wouldn’t hurt to attain a tertiary degree before he moves onto greater things--namely, finally publishing his manga. Pink Dark Boy will always be his ultimate goal, but as for now, Rohan’s main dream is to graduate with full honours--nothing less would fit in with Rohan’s lofty ambitions.

Modern AU.

crimson pokemon AU #r au: pokemon

Text here

AU.

lapis lazuli siren / merman AU #r au: siren

Amongst all of the dangers born of the ocean, sirens are one of the most dangerous for humans in particular. Born with preternatural beauty and illusory magic that could captivate beyond mortal resistance, sirens have adapted over time to become irresistible to their favourite choice of prey now that they were in abundance and constantly crossing the ocean in search for land and glory.

The vivacity of the colours beneath the ocean enthrals Rohan to degrees beyond comparison or proportion. The prismatic glow of light refracting through water; the unsaturated haze of the deep depths; the palette’s spread of the coral reef, spanning from bleached white to the deepest of reds, so beyond anything else within the ocean; the rusted orange and browns of sunken wrecks, a monument to the ingenuity of man and the capacity of the ocean to evolve and devour even the most artificial of entities--capturing all of these transient moments is his desire.

AU.

titanium white android maker AU #r au: pygmalion

As a child, the story of Pygmalion fascinated Rohan: a loyal devotee to the goddess Aphrodite fell in love with his own creation, a sculpture of the most perfect being that he could create. His devotion to the Lady Aphrodite moved her heart, and she pitied him to the extent that she brought his creation to life so that he could live a long and fruitful life with his love. This myth, so riddled with age and legend, stirred him. Perhaps he had once been Pygmalion, in another life.

In which Rohan is a prodigal mechanic who builds revolutionary machines and builds an android for companionship. In which Rohan falls in love with his own creation, and will do whatever it takes to bring them to life.

Scifi AU.

verdant twin AU w/ @supercililxus #r au: writer

Kishibe Ryurou is the elder brother of the renowned Kishibe twins who co-create the infamous Pink Dark Boy series that’s been serialised by JUMP ever since their sixteenth birthday. Possessive and protective of his younger brother, who seems to be the subject of paranormal and strange events to the extent that even exorcists refuse to help, Ryurou’s paranoia concerning Rohan has only increased over the years--especially after his brother had been shot through his chest with an Arrow and had quite literally died on him.

AU.

[chiaku]

I was tagged by @blomkvits, thank you so much for always including me in these you’re a bae ♥

1. Who was your first bias and who is your current one? My first bias was Kim Jonghyun and he still ranks among my top favorite people. But then Jaejoong came along and we all know how that motherfluffer stole my heart in 0.2 seconds vnv

2. Why did you get into kpop? Is it weird to say Anime? Back then I was all about Bleach and Naruto and anything anime I could get my hands on basically, and one day someone sent me a link to a Naruto MV, I believe, with SuJu’s Bonamana as the background music. We went to investigate, discovered SuJu and Shinee’s Lucifer and .. yep. Hooked.

3. If you could join any kpop group, who would you choose? I don’t think I’d want to join any kpop group because I have zero talent in singing but I wouldn’t mind following some groups or people around to their shows and living with them, etc? Jaejoong, Shinee and Boyfriend to be precise.

4. If all your biases proposed to you, who would you pick? KIM JAEJOONG, but I’d pick a few .. what’s the male word for mistresses. Let’s just say I’d have a harem ready.

5. If you could be in a fanfic, what genre would it be? Scifi/Fantasy with lots of angst and some slow burn.

6. What mythological creature would you be if you had the chance? A unicorn. Or no, wait, a mermaid. A mercorn? Unimaid?

7. Supernatural!au or Mafia!au If we’re talking Supernatural as in the show, then Mafia!AU. If Supernatural just means supernatural stuff happening, then Supernatural.

8. Which kpop idol would you switch bodies with? Jaejoong’s cat.

9. If you could have any idol as a pocket sized companion, who would you pick? Either Youngmin or Key, they’d be like my travel-sized sass masters and oh boy do I need some of that.

10. What idol would you want as a sibling? Donghyun. Or Jonghyun. Protective older brothers pls. vnv

11. If you were able to say five words to your bias, what would you say? Honestly I’d need more than five words to say everything I wanted, I’d most likely stare in shock, then start to cry, then go I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. Those are five, there you go.

And I was also tagged to do the Get to know me tag

Get to Know Me Tag Part 2

Countries I’ve lived in: Germany Favorite fandom: Bestfriends??? Bestfriends. Drama-free positivity and honestly I met so many darling bestfriends at the concert in Paris, just yes. Languages I speak: German, English, I can read most dutch things and I’m learning Spanish right now. Favorite film of 2016: Me Before You, I’m still wrecked Last article I read: Something about people wanting to put the truck of the Berlin terror attack in December in a History Museum (don’t do it.) Last thing I bought online: Videogames and gifts Last person I dreamt of: I dreamt of someone last night but I don’t remember who, so the last person I consciously remember dreaming of was Suho. Weeps. A recurring dream: Nightmares where I’m being hunted/threatened by some invisible approaching forces. Phobias / Fears: Failure, spiders, insects How would my friends describe me: Probably as a nerd If I had $$$ to spend what would I buy first: A trip to Canada for my mom

Shuffle your song library and list the first 3 songs that play:

Fall Out Boy - Alone Together FFX - Yuna’s Ballad Broken Valentine - No Name

I’m tagging: @moanwoo, @visually-cutemaknae-reality-evil, @whalebonecharms, @kainhurst, @code-707, @huxlicious (just the get to know me meme, for those of you who aren’t into kpop)

[asukaskerian]

monthly word count - january

TOTAL: 6 606 words that's all. :( uughghg this month SUCKED. why? idk. just, nops all around. maybe less free time at work, even tho i didn't think i was writing very much at work anyway... ugh. POSTED -Bleach : Bloodsport chapter 3 (Grimmjow/Ichigo psychic/scifi/space AU) (2 463 words) WIP -Bleach - ABO ichigo/grimmjow&his fraccion (1 952 words) -Girl Genius - psychic Wolves Gil fic - chapter 5 (1 431 words) -Bleach - Bloodsport interlude scraps that I probably won't keep (704 words) -Bleach - the superheroes one (...56... words)

-- ABO fic -- "Yeah, come here," he offers, rolling laboriously over as he nudges Edrad down. Kurosaki is panting next to them, flat on his back; his eyes are closed like he's safe. (Like he's mine, says a little voice at the back of Grimmjow's head but he knows that's just the heat. He's never been someone Grimmjow gets to claim as anything but rival and prey.) Grimmjow maneuvers Edrad down on his back into the fluffiest part -- next to Kurosaki, shoulder almost touching shoulder. "Smells nice," Edrad hums, eyes almost closed, injured arm draped over his ribs, and lets his knees fall open. He's the one Grimmjow saw first when he barged into that basement. When he brought the last wall down and found that place that everybody had told him didn't exist. (Everybody but that one healer shinigami, a tall, hunched girl with grey hair, the one who sneaked away from that meeting with Harribel to talk to him. She's the only one he will spare, if she's part of the hunting squads after them. Everybody else dies.) Wall to wall glass cages, hollows of all kinds and power levels sleeping off whatever shit had been done to them right there on bare cement floors, like animals, or dozing while wedged in the farthest corners; and just one sitting up with his legs crossed and his hands on his knees, his back straight, keeping watch. Naked and swordless. The look on his stoic face when he recognized Grimmjow had been... Grimmjow had gone into resurrección without even a pause. --- Girl genius psychic wolves --- They'd done about half of the room when the lock jiggled again. A bolt of fear jolting through him, Gil threw himself behind the desk, cursing himself for not letting the window open. Couldn't be Snarlantz -- maybe an errand-runner, maybe he'd forgotten something -- maybe another lockpicker? Damn, damn, damn -- Heels clacking subtly but deliberately on the floor, the interloper walked in, and then sighed despairingly. "Are you going to pretend Bangladesh got into a locked room on her own?" Releasing his air in a great deflating gust, Gil slumped against the desk, and almost pitched back into the leg gap under it. Cheeks flushing, his heart still hammering with the near miss, he dragged himself back up, glaring suspiciously. "How the hell--?" "I had a copy of the master key done last year when I enrolled," Tarvek replied in the tone of someone who thought Gil was a simpleton for not assuming it as a matter of course. --- Bloodsport scraps (this is one i very probably won't use but it cracked me up ok) --- Nelliel: so how many does that make? :c Grimmjow: ? Nelliel: ginger one night stands!! Grimmjow: you can fuck all the way off Nelliel: excuse me, ginger one-night-stands you end up brawling with. Nelliel: by my count it's four! Nelliel: not a big count but have you considered picking up brunettes for a change Nelliel: at this point i would be relieved if you picked up *luppi* Grimmjow: who tf asked you to be fucking relieved?! Grimmjow: let me wet my dick in peace, woman, it aint any of your business Nelliel: oh wait! I gotta readjust the count :D Nelliel: ginger one-night-stands you end up brawling with and never end up fucking because they can't take a punch. Nelliel: is it perchance also four? Nelliel: grimmjow Nelliel: grimmjow Nelliel: grimmjow Nelliel: grimmjow Nelliel: grimmjow Nelliel: grimmjow Nelliel: seriously. fuck luppi. fuck yylfordt. fuck *mila rose*. hell i will throw myself on your dick if that stops the carnage. one time offer only. Nelliel: you got us banned from my FAVORITE BAR. Grimmjow: thought mila doesn't do guys Nelliel: she does if they like getting pegged. you interested? :3c Nelliel: grimmjow Nelliel: grimmjow Nelliel: grimmjow Nelliel: i can copypaste all day Grimmjow: i picked up a blonde the other day AND we both came, you can stop worrying over the state of my balls now. Nelliel: but how drained were they :c Grimmjow: how did i ever think you were hot. jesus dick. fuck off. i stg i will go straight to the bosses and say you're sexually harassing me Nelliel: lmao

[asukaskerian]

TOTAL: 22 598 nice! esp since i got stuck like a mofo in the last two weeks. Everything is bleach. everything. POSTED -Bloodsport chapter 1, Grimmjow/Ichigo psychic/scifi/military AU (5 061 words) -not as brave as you were at the start, daemon AU, Kon-centric. (4 331 words) WORK IN PROGRESS -Bloodsport chapter 2 (10 468 words) (motherfucker. i'mma end up having to cut it in two at this rate. FUCK ALREADY AAAAA.) -Bloodsport deleted bits (663 words) -psychic wolves chapter 5 (79 words) (laaaaaame.) -daemon AU, grimmjow thing that idk where it's even going and may not keep. (1 608 words) -Haunting Me Haunting You chapter 3 (388 words) also posted: Haunting Me Haunting You chapters 1&2 (grimmjow/ichigo AU where soulmates haunt each other after they die) 

--

teasers!

Frowning, Nelliel checked on Aizen with a quick glance, then walked up to Grimmjow's not-yet-a-kill to peer at him, horns canted dubiously to the side. "...Oh. Durable." Her face looked as unenthused about it as Grimmjow felt. "We might be able to use him as bait..."

"Won't work," Kurosaki rasped out, head still laying heavy in the dust. "Won't... come back."

Nelliel crouched down beside Grimmjow, a hand down between her hooves for balance as she leaned down to meet the Quincy's eyes. "Why not? You're very powerful. And the only time I see Quincies leave their men behind is when the whole squad is dead."

He snorted, quirked her a half-smile that didn't even look all that smirky, all that mocking -- that Grimmjow could have taken as the smile of someone hearing a good joke.

"Gemisch," was all he said. Grimmjow frowned.

"The fuck is that?"

Aizen walked up behind them, making sure to stand between Nelliel and Grimmjow. Grimmjow kinda thought Kurosaki was entirely able to ignore the two of them and their no doubt immediate counterattack to spear him up right through the gap. If he was gonna die here, the guy seemed the type to make sure he was gonna finish the mission first.

"What did he say?"

"Gemisch," Nelliel repeated, frowning thoughtfully. "Isn't that a caste, or something? Low-caste?"

Grimmjow's ears flattened on instinct, even before he could fully register the new, intense expression on Aizen's face.

"It means half-blood. Our new friend here is a hybrid. How far up your family tree?" he asked, smiling genially.

Kurosaki's jaw tightened.

"It stops counting after four generations, doesn't it? So... Great-grandparent? Grandparent?" Stubborn silence. Aizen's smile widened. "A parent? At this level of power? Well."

"Why does it matter?" Luppi asked, scowling as he moved to Kurosaki's other side. He'd had to reabsorb a few tentacles already and looked strained maintaining the four he had left. Nnoitra was mostly out of resurrección and so was everybody else but the three of them, but Nnoitra kind of spend his life with one toe in resurrección anyway.

"Oh, there's a reason they're so obsessed with blood purity. Quincy genes are mostly recessive, and baseline humans are psychic nulls. A crossbreed will always be weaker than their Quincy parent. So either this young man is a bastard child of the imperial line itself, or..."

... Or.

Yeah, if the Emperor of all Pure Prisses had sired a half-breed, it would have been smothered in its cradle before the scandal could topple their whole government, not sent off to play with a heir candidate. The whole squad would have firebombed themselves rather than leave Kurosaki and his incriminating genes in enemy hands.

Grimmjow felt a little odd about that, no lie.

-------------- Fuck, he's off his game. He can tell, Nakeem can definitely tell, and when Dordoni closes in he only frowns deeper, which means Grimmjow might as well have Leucanthe at his side right now broadcasting his every single emotion and fuck because he does not, in fact, have Leucanthe right now. He would rather be missing his arm again. "Don Grimmjow?" Dordoni comes to a stop before Grimmjow has to stab him for getting in his space. (He ain't his fraccion. He doesn't get to crowd him.) "Where is el niño?" Nakeem doesn't turn to look at him but he shifts his weight a little, frown deepening. Oh -- right. "Di Roy? He's fucking fine, it was his turn. He just--" He wants to just bark it out, get it out of the way, and then spend some time beating up anyone trying to race up past him. Nobody gets to disturb the Uraharas right now. Nobody. He remembers the odd twinge of amused-gentle mockery, a-dumbass-but-my-dumbass pinging through his chest when Di Roy was. Being Di Roy. Somewhere inside himself, where all devoured daemons sleep, Leucanthe can still feel something similar for someone else. He knows. He hopes. He's gonna pretend she does, just in case. "Hey, Nakeem. My bad." "--Huh?" Heh. "Edrad's stronger so I pulled rank for him, but I'm not gonna be able to do it twice. They'd riot and I'd have to kill half of them." He glares half-heartedly at the rest of the rabble, who are pretending they're not listening in. Menoly is throwing him sideway looks. At least her bitchier half isn't here too, he really would have to murder her. 'I don't even want my daemon back because I'm a true Arrancar!!' his entire ass. ----------------- "At least we know Ulquiorra didn't get him," Edrad mutters in his ear as they obediently drag their feet to the throne room. "Or you'd be getting your ass haunted right now." Grimmjow snorts. Haunted, and then murdered. Or stuck in some little prison trap to get Ghost Ichigo out of the way, get a means of pressure on his ghost mom and non-ghostly but still twerpy cousin. Aizen came back from the Seireitei preening about his great successes but Gin was a little more free about all the shit that went wrong at the last second and all the arrows he had to dodge. He finds out one of his Espada is bonded to that and Grimmjow is dead, he has no illusions about any of that. But fuck him anyway. Grimmjow knew from the start he wasn't getting free until Aizen had bit the big one. It's just a bit more incentive to stay on top of things. He can do it. ... He had better make sure Ichigo can do it too.

--------------

The stranger wolf had been dancing in place for a minute now; Grimmjow wasn't too surprised when he stepped into the clearing in the end, approached Pantera fawning and wagging his tail a little.

Not a target, huh, she sent Grimmjow, a little disgruntled. Grimmjow snorted.

If I can make nice with civilians then so can you.

Pantera gave him a sidelong look. ... But you can't though.

Grimmjow planted his foot on his own wolf's rump and shoved.