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mermaidsirennikita · 1 year ago

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Caro's June 2023 Book Wrapup

This has been an interesting reading month, probably because I've been kind of severely depressed and therefore spend a lot of time reading and less time sleeping. C'est la vie!

You know what's not depressing? How much I've been enjoying Tiffany Reisz's Original Sinners series. It's definitely erotica; it may be erotic romance as well; it's for sure one of my favorite love stories I've read in a long time. Think lots of religious imagery, lots of Stuff and Thangs, lots of Father? Father. Two "heroes" (of a sort) who somehow hit every possible button I could ever have between the both of them? Check your triggers with that series, but uh..... I'm loving it.

But that's only a little of what I've read!

You, Again by Kate Goldbeck. ARC; review to come closer to publication.

Hottest Moment: This book does feature one of my favorite things, which is to say... someone getting absolutely railed and saying something they shouldn't!!!

An Island Princess Starts A Scandal by Adriana Herrera.

The sapphic historical romance we deserve! Fun, frothy, sexy, angsty--this one has it all. Manuela and Cora are equally compelling, and Adriana milks the hell out of the older, jaded seducer/flirty Young But Ready girl. Cora kicks the book off by giving us so much vampy sex appeal, only to be completed bowled over by Manuela's eagerness and charm. And I love that like... the book doesn't skip over the challenges they face as nineteenth century lesbians, but balances it with the freedoms they're both afforded and the supportive community surrounding them. Love!

Hottest Moment: Uhhhh there's one thing in this book that I did not expect to see in this book, suffice to say.

The Duke Gets Desperate by Diana Quincy. ARC; review to come closer to publication.

Hottest Moment: The hero conversationally tells the heroine "I'm taking you from behind" and bends her over a sofa.

For My Lady's Heart by Laura Kinsale.

This is a fucking ride, and everything I want from a medieval romance. There's a knight devoted to his lady fair! There's an ice queen literal princess who's so sick of everyone's shit! There's a weird teen assassin who mAY be a castrato, who knows? The adventure is high and the emotions are strong. I will say, Kinsale lets the 1300s be the 1300s, for better or worse. There's plague. Our hero definitely alludes to doing some real bad shit. But the high stakes add to the emotionality of the story, and the tale never loses its sense of humor. I was absolutely invested in Ruck and Melanthe's wild road trip--and their love story.

Hottest Moment: Ruck pretends that Melanthe is his "leman" (mistress) so that they can share a room at an inn... But oops, there are peepholes, so I guess she has to play the part now! Darn!

Band Sinister by K.J. Charles.

Fun, light, fluffy--it's a comfort read, and well worth it. We have a rake seducing a virgin and teaching him how to fuck... We have a lovely poly situation... I don't know what's not to like. I've heard of K.J. Charles described as "Heyer but gayer" and I guess there's truth to that. If you like the frothiness of Heyer, the witticisms and wordplay, that's all here. But like. There are people of color in this book, for one thing. For another, Philip and Guy actually fuck. And there's like. Depth. All of these things make me say... this is my Heyer, I guess.

Hottest Moment: Philip teaching Guy the finer points of certain verbs.

Shadowheart by Laura Kinsale.

A wild, intense, passionate, high stakes romance novel that was perfect for me. There are elements that show its era (the noncon encounter between the leads being the most obvious) but for the most part it adds to the story rather than taking away. I'm a sucker for villain-as-hero; but here, we get a villain who knows he's awful and knows he's going to Hell... and that actually bugs him. Not because he hasn't accepted Hell, but because he believes SHE is going to Heaven. Meanwhile, our heroine is of the mind that if Heaven lacks him--she doesn't want it. And she is totally willing to learn from him. In many ways, he's her mentor; and in many ways, he's totally emotionally dependent on her. It's just... so good. So emotional, so hot, so well-defined in its arc and meaning.

Hottest Moment: Really--pick a scene. But I do have a big thing for the moment when Elayne makes Allegreto role play as a captured warrior who's been brought to service her. He's right, she's perfect.

The Devil and The Heiress by Harper St. George.

I liked the first book in this series of standalones--The Heiress Gets A Duke. But it was a little rushed for me, and while the couple was charming, you could kind of tell that the author was more excited about the heroine's innocent little sister and the predatory, fortune-hunting earl eyeing her from her across the room. You can tell she's more alive and into this roadtrip-but-it's-a-trap romance, and though there isn't anything super dark about Christian, the Earl of Leigh, or anything super groundbreaking about the sweet Violet... It's just really fun and fluffy, and he gets soooo sad when he falls into the pit of his own making, and... it's candy, and I like it.

Hottest Moment: I really liked the scene where he paced in front of a fire lustfully with his dick sticking out of his underwear I can't super explain it.

For the Love of April French by Penny Aimes.

It's difficult to find romances featuring trans heroines, and it's even more difficult to find them written by trans women. And this one is a BDSM romance at that! I think that whether or not you're trans, whether or not you're into the kink scene, there's something deeply relatable to April's problem--being the mom friend, being the den mother, feeling overlooked in favor of younger, prettier, less "complicated" models. This book is honestly pretty fluffy and sweet, and it should be. But the emotional authenticity hits hard throughout.

Hottest Moment: Personally a big fan of the scene where April gives Dennis a good ol' Brentwood hello.

The Siren by Tiffany Reisz.

Note: this is an ongoing erotica (erotic romance?) series, and though I'm not going to note every book as a rec because they must be read in order.... I'm reading it and loving it. Not for the faint of heart--and I will say that the first book reads a bit darker than the others, to me--it's going to give you a little bit of everything: polyamory, hardcore BDSM, a dominant Catholic priest, a kink king, an erotica writer/dominatrix. The core trio is totally captivating, and while I won't lie, they do some... very morally dubious shit.... I simply don't care. It's too well-written and too compelling. (Soren Stan For Life.)

Hottest Moment: There is... a lot. But in the first book, for me it was 100% Soren cornering Nora in an elevator and getting her off while reminding her that they're always going to come back to each other. Also, the "my turn" flashback with Kingsley because............

Love with a Scandalous Lord by Lorraine Heath.

This is pitched as a very normal, sedate "virginal American heroine comes to England and gets swept up by London and an older, jaded lord" book. Here's the thing: our heroine, Lydia, is a second gen heroine. Her mother was the heroine of a previous book, and fell in love with Lydia's stepfather, the illegitimate son of a duke who raised Lydia from a young age. And the hero, Rhys... is Lydia's step-uncle. That in itself is pretty intense, and you get the whole "older man accidentally seducing an innocent" thing. Then there's another classic Lorraine third act twist--and it is quite a twist. The romance is pretty normal. He hates himself and feels he can't love her, she was half a virgin when she met him; it's an angsty back and forth. Personally, that works for me. Especially when our hero was the town bicycle.

Hottest Moment: Our hero doesn't want to risk getting the heroine pregnant (I mean, he's already risked that but okay) and blows her mind in... other ways. I was a bit surprised to see an ol' "fingerbang from behind" in an early 2000s Lorraine Heath, but I was not unhappy.

M is for Marquess by Grace Callaway.

I'm not a huge fan of espionage romances, that hasn't changed--and this book does have a pretty sizable espionage plot. What makes it work here is that it's really not all that convoluted, and it doesn't compete with the romance. Our hero is into the heroine from the jump but afraid of hurting her (and really, of being rejected by her in the same way he was rejected by his wife, because he is a lil kinky). Our heroine is considered frail and desperately wants to prove to everyone she isn't. It doesn't reinvent the wheel, but it is enjoyable, especially if you like a "frail heroine" a la Win Hathaway (which I do).

Hottest Moment: Thea sneaks into Gabriel's room to give him something to remember her by while they're parted. It works.

#romance novel blogging #book recs #books #book reviews #book wrap up

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magnus-sm-writes · 5 months ago

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July 10k Update: the Sequel

It’s my second 10k update for June! This Pride Month, I am succeeding. I’m only succeeding because I’m pushing myself to succeed. (Makes me feel like I’m in grade school again, setting myself up for success like this so I can get the rush from it.)

So as of 6/13, I am at 21,760 words this month. Yeah buddy!

Most of those words came from (Demon) Hunting for Love. I wrote a very short personal essay about the “it” part of my pronouns that I might try to publish later on. It’s pretty rough right now. A little too much so, I think.

I have a habit of skipping around when I write. You could call it a “pretty big problem” if you were feeling particularly blunt, but personally, I like to count it as a strength. A semi-strength. When I’m inspired to write a scene, I slam that guy out, because there’s no point in putting that shit off until you’re no longer interested in it.

There are four different documents for this novel at the moment, which can make word count a little tedious to add up, but it’s super worth it, I promise. The largest portion (10,000 words alone) is basically the first act of the story. We establish Quincy as a huge weirdo who wants to gain the favor of a fellow demon, and Otto as a well-meaning but terrified demon hunter. This covers Otto nearly catching the demon Shax on camera, the beginning of the DemonSpotting controversy (Otto and his partner Trixie broke up a while ago but have been keeping up the charade), and Otto and Quincy’s first meeting, as well as just some Quincy history.

The next chronological document is their first ghost hunt. Yay! It takes place in a dilapidated barn much like the ones that litter the farmland in my hometown, so there’s a lot of love put into the setting.

Next is the scene where Otto calls Quincy his best friend, and the aftermath of that. Quincy is totally unsure of how to handle the fact that he’s let someone so close to him. Emotional issues ahoy.

Then I wrote a tiny kiss scene. I’m talking maybe 200 words. Because I wanted to figure out what their first kiss would be like, and I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be this way.

I made an obligatory (to me) Unnus Annus reference. Remember the escape room video? Ethan apologizing for being scatterbrained because he has ADHD and forgot to take his meds is such a mood. It’s such a serious, silly problem that I share.

“If you can’t tell I have ADHD, I don’t know how observant you are.” Otto glances over at him, then back to the road. “The paranormal’s a fixation of mine. When I don’t have my meds—oh God, I’m a nightmare to be around.” Otto shakes his head at himself. “One time, right, during that Adderall shortage, Trixie and I tried to do an escape room, and I just could not focus on any of the clues.” “Aw, c’mon. None of them?” “None.” Otto deletes a notification about a speed trap. “I think we ended up worse than when we started. Not kidding. I also think the employees thought that Trixie was, like, doing this out of pity, and it was… so embarrassing, dude, holy shit.”

There’s a lot of pretty good banter between the two. Maybe because I’ve been watching a lot of CreepCast and so the teasing banter is just coming easy as an extension of that. Or because I just really love when friends have a lot of good, witty conversations. Otto and Quincy’s chemistry comes across really well on the page.

And in typical Magnus fashion, I had to mention OSHA. My special interests are very dear to me. (That’s sorta the point, I know.)

“People died in that building.” “And we could be added to the list. Look at it, my guy. Like, really look at it.” Quincy gestures to the building with a grandness he feels it doesn’t deserve, pitiful as it looks. “It looks…” Otto turns the camera to the barn. “Foreboding.” “Foreb—Otto, it looks like an OSHA violation to take me in there!”

This is exactly the sort of conversation I would have with someone. I’m known for casually pointing things out and naming them as OSHA violations. And Quincy only does it to annoy Otto on camera, because he’s a demon and he doesn’t care about OSHA standards as much as he does saying something smart-assy about the weird places Otto drags him.

Also, yes, as Quincy's employee, it is pretty sketchy, OSHA-wise, to make Quincy go into an unsafe building for work purposes. Not that Quincy gives much of a shit.

So, yeah, I’m pretty excited about this novel! It’s a blast to write something so… hmm. I wouldn’t call it “silly”, but perhaps “non-serious”. (Demon) Hunting for Love is just fun!

Ask to be added to the tag list!

#writing update #my writing #writing excerpt #romance novel #paranormal romance #contemporary romance #(demon) hunting for love

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junko222 · 2 years ago

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TYBW Anime Ep. 3 vs the manga - SPOILERS

Bleach Twitter has been talking a lot about the pacing of the anime as opposed to the manga and the things that are being skipped.

Even though no one has asked for it, I want to lay out my own opinions on the matter in a forum that isn't limited to however many characters.

If you haven't read the manga, you might want to ignore this post. I intend to talk about spoilers for the end.

So one of the things that happens in both the anime and the manga in this section/episode is that Kubo-sensei lays out his THEME for this entire arc.

As the very groovy Aizen look-alike explains, the answer to the question "Are we on the side of justice?" is very clearly: "No." This will likely end in subjugation--one side will dominate the other, by brute force, not because it's just or right

Later on the same page/in the same scene, prayer bead wearing Aizen look-alike explains that wars only happen because both sides are right (and by implication also both wrong.)

Thus, what bothers me about the missing scenes, namely the lieutenant's meeting, is that one of the things that's revealed there is that Shinigami killed civilians to maintain the "Balance."

In the anime, Mayuri explains it to Yamamoto, but we don't see the evidence laid out in the same way--and that takes some power away. This is kind of a moment that could be read with a certain amount of horror because these civilians were not only unarmed, but also BAREFOOT. These were the poorest of the poor and an armed garrison of trained Shinigami literally rounded them up and slaughtered them on the orders of a 12th Division captain who has the authority to do so without the express permission of the Captain-Commander.

This is a moment.

A big one.

It's a moment where we see the cracks in the foundation of the Soul Society as "good guys." (Arguments can be made that they showed these cracks earlier, but this is the first time Kubo-sensei is being this blatant with his dystopia. He sets out the lieutenant's meeting and then literally allows a character to say, "hey, if we did genocide before, are we the good guys??" and have the answer be explicitly, "mmm, no, not really, but neither are the Quincy.")

So, I was excited when we seem to start to get more Ishida (younger and elder) on screen in the anime. I was very hopeful that we might see some of the Quincy side of the story, which was very much missing from the manga. Like, as the manga readers know, Ishida (younger) appears to join this side and one presumes there is a compelling reason for that, though we only know vagaries about what happened 200 years ago when the Quincy failed to meet the Shinigami demands and the Shinigami wiped them out almost to a man.

This is not being hit very hard in the anime.

More time was spent in the anime watching Juha Bach/Yhwach being a creep to his underlings which just makes the Quincy seem as insane as their master/king. Likewise, we got almost every blow by blow of Ichigo's fight with Nazi-haircut Quincy, which again, only serves to make the Quincy seem insane rather than justified in their anguish... which really they should be. (See Mayuri and Ishida fight in the rescue arc, where Mayuri explicitly states that he's not interested in this so-called last Quincy because he's already had his fill of torturing them and extracting information about them due to this last war.)

I'm glad they gave Ishida more screen time, but most of it was useless. Like, honestly, a flashback to the Mayuri fight would have been more powerful, IMHO, and requires no extra writing/drawing. Ishida's hunting for information about the Quincy's past and then us, the viewers, only getting the voice over of the exact same information that groovy Aizen-look-alike gives didn't feel worth the animation hours. Perhaps, you're thinking, but, Junko, they can't just make stuff up! Yeah, they can. Kubo-sensei is consulting, That means they're paying to put his name on the screen, as having approved of this whole thing. They could have asked him to write three sentences for Ishida to have read that fit whatever his vision is for the Quincy side of the story.

And again, I wouldn't harp on this, but this is literally the episode that SETS UP THE ENDING. Like it or not, Kubo-sensei told us he was going to end on a downbeat, with the Quincy subjugated and destroyed and no sense of justice. It's right here. IN THIS EPISODE. We should see the horror on the faces of the Shinigami who are suddenly made aware that they are complicit in not only genocide of the their hated enemy the Quincies, but also of the people they ostensibly protect in the Rukongai.

THAT would underscore the idea that there is no justice in war. Both sides has war crimes to answer for. We've seen Juha being crazy, we need to see the dark underbelly of the Soul Society.

And let me be clear. Kubo did not do this perfectly in the manga. Anyone who knows me knows that I had a LOT of problems with how this arc played out in the end. I had been hoping, however, that the anime could have been an opportunity to condense some of the endless fight scenes and give this story the backbone that Kubo laid down, but never built up.

Alas.

Also, am sad we never got grumpy (or thinking face??) Renji at Sasakibe's funeral.

Also, they skipped on the usual Kubo signature post-death scene where we learn about Sasakibe, his fierce loyalty to Yamamoto, and how he used bankai for the first time in battle only to die.

So, if you love Bleach for these kinds of character moments, the anime seems to be skipping them in favor of the protracted battle scenes, which... I mean, I love fighting anime? I would be lying if I said I wouldn't be happy with an entire 52 episode run of Ichigo just yelling "bankai" and "Getsuga Tensho" over and over!! So, I mean, I don't HATE the anime by any stretch. I'm just a fan fic writer who loves Kubo-sensei for his liminal spaces, his in-between moments.

And so far the anime is light on those.

I'm still deeply pleased to see it happening at all, however.

#Bleach #anime #anime vs manga #manga #tybw spoilers #bleach tybw #tybw arc #spoilers

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azulawriting · 2 years ago

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The Fullbring arc, oh boy

Recently, I watched a video essay detailing how the fullbring arc was, in fact, the best arc in Bleach. The reasons given were somewhat compelling before I read the arc. I mean, I don’t think I could’ve enjoyed the Soul Society arc as much as I did if it wasn’t for the Substitute Shinigami arc, which still is, to me, the main reason why I got hooked on this show/manga. I daresay that the first arc of Bleach is even more enjoyable in manga format. There’s a bunch of cut content that makes it all the more addicting to me, even now.

When it comes to my impressions of the Fullbring arc in the anime, I was surprised to know it wasn’t yet another filler arc. I think that, like many others back then, ending Bleach after Aizen’s defeat was a good decision. It was the culmination of the story, and I really wasn’t sure where the story would even go after it. The Fullbring Arc was interesting as a time skip and how Ichigo would deal with being a completely normal human being while all his friends were not, but I would not have “dragged it” for an entire arc, however brief it could be.

My feelings towards this arc have somewhat changed with the manga, but not that much. I think that, in hindsight, it is a necessary arc for TYBW and it introduces a “power-up” for characters like Orihime and Chad, which will become useful for the upcoming arc. I think Ichigo’s introspection about where he would go with no powers is rather powerful, and it gets to shine a little bit more in the manga, but it is not part of my favourite arcs in this manga. Again, I don’t think the magic of the Substitute Shinigami arc will ever be reached again, though I will admit the Fullbring Arc gets very close.

I will give the manga credit where it’s due in that it made the stakes about Ichigo’s character and how poorly he could handle ever coming back to being a nobody, basically. I think it’s something not a lot of shonen manga have tackled something as heavy as “what would happen if MC lost his powers but the threats didn’t stop?”. His dependence on Ginjo and Execution built a good betrayal plotline but, and I do feel bad to say this, I don’t find any of the new characters all that enjoyable. And that’s my main issue with it. The first arc introduced a varied and interesting cast of side characters, but there’s not much of that in this arc. Tsukishima is somewhat interesting as a villain due to his power, but not much else. The same goes for the rest of Execution, who, at least to me, don’t stray too far from being tropes.

It’s a shame, really. I appreciated the flashbacks for Ginjo and Tsukishima in particular, but man do I wish we had more. Then again, that would have perhaps played against the mystery/betrayal plotline that was decently built over the span of the arc.

I don’t think I’ll continue reading the manga from this point on. I hated the Quincy arc for how rushed and outright bad it was. The anime is airing right now and I’m honestly more interested in revisiting the arc by watching the adaptation. From what I’ve heard, Kubo has the reins and will add some anime-original content to improve the arc. So far, I like the anime and I hope a certain captain does not miraculously come back to the battlefield. If he does, for any reason at all, I’ll have to wonder if the rest of the arc will be improved or just rehash the mistakes from the manga. I don’t want it to come to that.

Before I finish this post, I wanted to add one last thing. Since I mentioned Kazui in my first post ever about bleach in this blog, I do plan on making an even longer rant on the Hell chapter and my problems with it, as well as speculate as to where it could go, assuming it ever gets another chapter. I might do this old blog justice again and write something short for the Hell arc, but I doubt I will even get the time for it. We’ll see.

#bleach #manga review #fullbring #hell chapter review coming soon???

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incorrect-trolls-imagines · 4 years ago

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Hcs of darnell meeting y/n and asking them out on a date please?

After reuniting with his family, Cooper came up with the idea of inviting his folks over to Pop Village once in a while so they could get to know what was basically his first home.

Being the future king, Darnell would be left in charge of Vibe City while his parents were away but eventually he got the chance of tagging along with them.

His first time in Pop village was also the first time he met Y/N, a good friend of Cooper who eagerly waved the Funk family over after seeing them having a stroll around town. Knowing about the royals’ visit, they had elaborated a huge basket of freshly baked goods with the intention of giving it to them as a gift.

The way their beautiful eyes sparkled like stars when the royals expressed their admiration for the taste of their baking made Darnell smile and a small flush form on his cheeks.

He doesn't realize he was staring at them for quite a while until Y/N catches his gaze and shyly smiles back, fidgeting with their hair a bit and making him feel even more spellbound than before.

This interaction doesn't go unnoticed by Essence who gives her son a knowing look while Y/N isn’t looking.

"Cooper darling," she calmly interrupts Quincy and Cooper who were in the middle of praising Y/N's cooking. "There was a place that your father and I didn’t get to see during our last visit, would you please show us the way there? We can't wait to finally see it."

Quincy looked at her, confusion is his eyes. "Are you sure, honey? I don't remember that."

"Uh, yeah, me neither." Added Cooper, tilting his head to the side.

"Oh, you boys probably just forgot about it! I'm sure you'll remember about it on the way there!" She ushered the two Funk trolls to follow her.

"But what about the pastries?" Pouted Quincy, stopping when Essence gave a subtle nod in Y/N and Darnell's direction. Catching her drift, the king opened his mouth in understanding, chuckling and going along with his wife’s idea of leaving those two alone.

As they walked away, Cooper turned to look at his brother. “Aren’t you coming, D?”

“Don’t worry about me, bro, you guys go ahead.” Darnel waved his twin off.

“Okey dokey!” The youngest sibling nodded with a grin and skipped away to catch up with their parents.

"Um, not to sound rude but, are you sure you don’t want to go with them?" Y/N asked in an apprehensive tone.

Darnell tsked, putting up a dejected pout. "You want to get rid of me that badly?”

“Hey, that’s not what I meant!” They took a defensive stance and gave him a half hearted glare.

Darnell snickers out a laugh. “Just messing with ya, Y/N. Honestly though, they don’t mind. Nothing wrong with sticking back with you, especially if I can try more of those goodies you've got going in that basket and get to know you better,” he flashed them a sly wink that instantly brightened their cheeks, boosting his confidence. “If you’re cool with that, of course."

Y/N felt their heartbeat speed up, not believing their ears. Was the prince of Funk actually asking them out!? Not like they were going to object, though.

Strolling together around Pop Village the two strike up a nice conversation, carrying on with it all the way till finding a comfy spot for an improvised little picnic. Sitting next to each other, they stay there, enjoying each other's stories and company even after they run out of pastries until the sun starts to set and it's time for Darnell to return home.

Before leaving, they exchange numbers to stay in contact waiting for the next time Darnell comes to visits the village again for their second date. He promises to be back as soon as it's possible and bids them goodbye with a kiss on the cheek and another flirtatious wink, leaving the Pop troll blissfully sighing with a hand over the spot where he kissed them.

#dw trolls #twt #trolls world tour #scenarios and hcs #prince d x reader #prince d #queen essence #king quincy #cooper #funk family

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sailtoafarawayland · 4 years ago

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Walk Me Through The Dark (1/1) Alpha/Omega one-shot

Summary: There are no guarantees that life will be easy or happy, but Emma had finally found all that and more in the form of Killian Jones, her best friend, her alpha and mate. She’d forgotten what it was to fear, to run, to have the hope knocked from her body, but she’s about to remember, and so is he.

Rating: Explicit, read through A/N for trigger warnings, or skip to after the cut for spoiler-free

A big thank you to @the-darkdragonfly for beta reading and supporting this story!

AO3 or FF

Author’s Note: This is a hurt/comfort omegaverse based fic for CS. It is rated E for a reason. Tags/Trigger Warnings are as follows: Attempted rape/non-con, Attempted Sexual Assault, Heavy Angst, Sexual Assault Recovery

-Walk Me Through The Dark-

Emma hung onto the rail above her as the subway lurched into motion, her long curls falling around her face and giving some sense of privacy in the crowded car. She stared down at the screen on her phone, a soft smile on her face. Tapping a quick reply to Mary Margaret with one finger, she swiped back to the previous screen, selecting Killian's name and letting go of her hold on the rail so she could send him a message. The train swayed and she widened her stance, regaining her balance. Her stomach churned slightly at the motion and she frowned. She shouldn't have eaten the curry from the food truck for lunch, it never sat well.

She tapped send and reached for the support of the rail again.

E: What are you doing for dinner, babe?

Her eyes traveled the length of the car as she waited for his response. He'd mentioned earlier that his latest overhaul may keep him at the ship yard for some late nights, but the picture Mary Margaret had sent – something simmering in red sauce with a crispy layer of cheese – left her wondering what her mate would be doing to feed himself that evening.

Her cell vibrated in her hand.

K: If I'm lucky, there will be some takeaway left in the work fridge, though I'd much rather be enjoying the evening with you, love.

Heat rushed into her cheeks as she read his words, the echo of his voice in her head. He loved his work at the ship yard, and though it had taken her a long time to realize the sincerity of his words, she knew now just how much truth was in them. Despite having a job that he'd long dreamed about, his favorite place to be was always at her side. The way he made her feel, loved and wanted, was a far cry from how she'd felt her entire childhood into her adult life.

E: I miss you too. Don't forget there's leftover alfredo at home, if you end up not staying too late.

E: Looks like MM is making lasagna.

Their apartment wasn't too far from his office, and she hoped the idea of fresh food would lure him away from whatever dried out leavings had been abandoned by his coworkers.

K: Both of those sound very tempting at the moment. Give MM and David my love.

Emma smiled and slipped her phone back into her pocket, settling in for the rest of the ride out to the Nolan's. Friday night dinners had become something of a tradition between the four friends, but things had been so overwhelming at the ship yard lately that Killian missed them more often than he liked. Luckily, his latest overhaul was coming to an end soon, and they were both hoping things would be a bit more manageable.

The car rocked again and Emma swallowed, a sudden wave of nausea creeping up her throat as they moved, something about the steady creaking of the wheels and the sway of the train making her feel sick. Honestly, that was the last time she went with spicy food, it always made her feel off, despite how delicious it was. She closed her eyes and wrapped her fingers, sweat beginning to dampen her palm, more tightly around the rail, wishing she were anywhere else as the nausea worsened, her stomach churning and cramping. A tingling warmth worked its way up through her body, spreading along her arms and legs. Another cramp twisted deep in her abdomen, and that's when it hit her.

Her heat was coming on early.

Panic surged beneath the burning heat and nausea as she sucked in a deep breath. It was too early, by a week and a half at least. She would have never dared take public transit if she thought there was even a chance...and now she was stuck on the T with a crammed car. Her eyes darted to the digital map above the door, the light that indicated their position creeping along slowly to North Quincy station. They were only a quarter of the way along, and she cursed her luck.

The doctor had warned her more than once that she could end up suffering from unmanageable heats down the road due to her early use of suppressants, but so far she'd escaped having to deal with any of that. She'd thought she was in the clear.

She could feel the instincts that became heightened during her heats start to spike, the panic only making them sharper. She needed to get off this train, the locked doors and windows and the sheer press of people triggering an instinctual need to run, to get to a place that was warm and safe, a place that was familiar – their bed at home with the blankets piled high and smelling of her mate.

She needed Killian.

She needed her Alpha, but he was already too far, and she was stuck on a train heading in the opposite direction.

Another sharp cramp twisted her insides and she bit back a whimper, adrenaline pumping through her veins and sweat beading on her skin as she shifted, stealing a glance at the people surrounding her. Almost everyone seemed unaware of her predicament, which made sense. Her heat was only just at the beginning of its climb, and it was unlikely that betas would notice much difference in the pheromones her body was producing – not this early on. Only alphas and omegas possessed the hyper-sensitive ability to pick out those scents from the air at such an early stage.

Then her eyes fell on the far corner of the car, and she saw him.

He leaned casually into the corner, but his eyes were narrowed and hard, his lips touched by the start of a smile as he realized that she knew he knew. Flexing his shoulders, he lifted his nose to the air and drew in a deep breath, his mouth twisting into a feral grin.

Emma's eyes widened with fear and she snapped her head back down, breathing heavily as a shiver washed over her body, the hair on her neck prickling. That had been a mistake, she realized, looking away – too submissive and sure to goad the strange alpha into action. She should have stared him down, and normally she would have, but somehow, being stuck in a confined space so far from her mate, her heat bearing down on her in a way that was faster and worse than normal – she was utterly terrified.

The man staring her down – she could feel it, even if she refused to look back in his direction – seemed to be a typical alpha from what she'd briefly seen. He wielded his large, bulky frame with the ease of someone used to getting their way and being obeyed, looming over the people beside him with an air of authority. He'd made a show of scenting the air when she'd laid eyes on him, and the fact that he was so blatantly displaying his interest had the taste of bile stinging sharply in the back of her throat.

She wanted to be anywhere but here.

She wanted it to be yesterday, before her body betrayed her and she was stuck in this nightmare.

Another cramp twisted in her gut, longer and sharper, her teeth digging into her lip as she tried to hold back the whine she could feel building in her throat – a call that was always answered by the reassuring rumble of her mate, except he wasn't here.

He was too far, and despite the flush of heat consuming her, she was so cold, her body insisting that she needed the warmth and security only he could provide.

She wanted to call him, the urge to do so almost irrepressible, but she knew he'd be a frantic mess, worrying for no reason. As long as the alpha in the corner kept his distance, she'd be fine – and it's not like he was crazy. Her claim mark would have been clearly visible when she turned toward him, and she knew that her scent gland was in overdrive, producing copious amounts of not only her own signals for heat, but the potent scent of her mate as well, broadcasting to any other alphas in the area that she wasn't a free omega. The guy had to know, so she felt reassured that he'd leave her alone.

She had to believe it, because the alternative was too frightening to consider.

No, there was no reason to call her mate and worry him over nothing. She had time. She'd jump out at North Quincy and grab a car straight back home. Then she would call Killian and let him know that he'd need to cut his work night short. If she was lucky, he'd already be there, drawn in by the promise of chicken alfredo.

Sweat slid from her cold grasp on the rail down the inside of her wrist in into her jacket.

She had to believe that everything would be fine, and for a few minutes it felt that way. It was the movement in her peripheral vision that betrayed that hope. The stray alpha was leaving his place at the other end of the car, people parting around him as he made his way closer. His body was tensed as he took another deep whiff of the air around him, a look of impatience on his face.

“Sorry,” Emma stammered, apologizing to the woman she'd accidentally pushed against in her futile effort to put more distance between herself and the threat the man posed.

Another shiver racked her body, adrenaline amplifying every normal inconvenience that her heat brought out – the cramps, the chills, the clawing need for her mate, and with that, the steady rush of slick that was just starting to slip from between her thighs. She wrangled with her own body, fighting for control and losing, her attention so caught up in maintaining some sort of normalcy that she didn't realize the alpha had moved closer until she felt his hot breath against the back of her neck, the air around her thickening with a sour, deep musk that was simply wrong.

She wanted to scream, but when she opened her mouth nothing came out, instead she fell forward, nearly on top of someone in the seat. She'd just managed to pull her feet back beneath her when she felt a firm hand wrap itself around her bicep, hauling her backward.

“Now, now, Omega,” the man chuckled close in her ear, the heat radiating from his body making her want to vomit. “Seems like you need some help.”

“No,” she ground out, almost unable to hear her own words, the hammering of her pulse in her ears drowning them out. “No. I'm claimed.”

She tore herself out of the man's grip and moved quickly toward the small circle of space near the door, uncaring of the people she elbowed or pushed aside to get there. The map above her was starting the blink, the little bulb beneath N. Quincy Station finally lighting up.

Thank god.

With any luck the man had taken the hint and wouldn't risk making a scene. At this point, there had to be at least one or two others on the car aware of what was happening, and there was no way any sane alpha would risk the trouble he could get into for pushing himself on a claimed omega. She hoped – but her heat always gave her tunnel vision, and the only thing she could think of was Killian, of how badly she needed him and how she'd never felt more vulnerable than in that moment.

The train finally slowed to a stop and the doors slid open. She'd never moved more quickly in her life, shoving aside the few people that tried to cut her off as she bolted from the train, never even hearing the muttered curses a few commuters send her way.

Her vision blurred in time with her heart, pinching and expanding as her heat slipped into the next gear. She stumbled forward and leaned heavily against a concrete support not far from the train as another cramp jolted through her core, leaving her nerves tingling in pain. She chanced a look back through the thinning crowd as the doors slid shut, but she didn't see him in the station.

Fearing what she might not see, she looked into the window of the car, but she couldn't make out his bulk there either. He wasn't on the train, but she hadn't seen him in the station either. She would have noticed.

The wave of nausea and cramps passed and she pulled out her cell, punching in Killian's number, her breathing echoing in her ears as she waited for the call to connect. He was at work, and she hardly ever called him there, so of course he picked up immediately, concern tainting the voice she'd needed so desperately to hear.

“Emma, is everything alright, love?”

Hearing his actual voice broke something in her, the wall she'd been holding up out of sheer determination, needing to believe that everything would be fine, that the alpha on the train was just going to forget her – but there was a small, niggling part of her brain warning that she would have seen him in the car if he'd stayed, if he hadn't followed her out.

“Killian,” she whimpered, every bit of that fear communicated through the tremor in her voice, in the way her breath fell in short pants as she moved farther out of the station, her eyes darting to the dark corners around her as she hurried toward the back parking lot.

“Emma,” he rushed, his voice laced with dread. “Emma, where are you? What's wrong?”

“My heat, it's early,” she muttered. “I was on the train when it hit. It's bad...”

“I'm coming to get you. What station?”

She nearly dropped the phone as another cramp rocked her, more slick cooling her thighs and dampening her jeans, her breath cut short as she struggled upright again.

“Emma!” Killian snapped just as she brought the phone back to her ear. “What station, Emma?”

“North Quincy. Killian...there was an alpha on the train.”

She could hear the sharp intake of his breath, something in the background dropping to the ground.

“Emma, I'm coming. Can you stay where there are people?”

“I don't know if he followed me,” she admitted, finally saying the thing she hadn't wanted to confront aloud. She hadn't seen him as the station emptied out around her, but there was no denying the odor of his musk that still drifted toward her occasionally. She wanted to believe it was lingering from where he'd wrapped his sweating hand around her arm, but she couldn't be sure. “There's no one here,” she whispered, blanching when she finally realized how far she'd walked in her daze. “I'm in the parking lot. I was gonna grab an Uber home.”

“Are there any cabs? Any cars, love?”

“No, it's so empty, Killian. There's no one here...”

“Stay on the line with me, Emma. I'm coming – right now. I'm on my way.”

Her mate's voice was wrecked, cracking with fear that she knew he was trying to keep at bay. In her gut she knew he was probably more frightened than she was, because she at least had the luxury of her heat muting everything it didn't deem important, but he didn't even have that. Entwining with hers, his fear only made her desire to burrow into their bed that much stronger, everything other than her need for him and a safe place dimming slightly. She wanted home, nestled in warmth with his weight on top of her. She'd be so full and sated, content with him curled around her back...

“Emma.”

Killian's voice broke through the fog, strained but firm, and she found herself humming in response, his voice sending a pleasing vibration through her body.

“Omega!” he snapped, and her purr turned into a whine at the sharp tone of displeasure, but his attempt to pull her back to reality worked, and some semblance of clarity came back to her as she hurried further into the parking lot.

“I'm here – I just...it's bad, Killian. It's coming fast and hard.”

“Just stay with me, love. Look around, do you see the alpha from the train? Did he follow you?”

She turned in place, trying to focus on her surroundings, the sidewalks and the slight glow of the lobby in the empty station, the parked cars and streetlights that cast wide circles of light across the pavement. She didn't see him, but there was this feeling, this warning in her gut that she'd learned to trust.

“I don't see him, but I think...oh, god, I think maybe he did. I don't know. I'm scared, Killian.” She stumbled backwards over the concrete lip of a planted median and grabbed onto the mirror of a car to steady herself. She needed to get farther from the building, someplace dark and hidden and safe – someplace he wouldn't see her. “I have to get out of sight. Maybe he'll just give up...”

“Can you get somewhere with people?”

“Not without going back through the station to the front...there's no one here,” she whispered, the tiny, logical part of her brain still working thinking how insane it was that the parking lot was this empty, like all of her bad luck had saved itself up for one day. “He could be inside still, if I try to go back.”

Just as she was threading her way between two vehicles, her eyes still locked on the station, she saw the silhouette of someone large approaching the doors she'd left mere minutes before, and she knew it was him. Before he could spot her, she dropped to the ground in a crouch, ignoring the sharp cramp that twisted in her gut with every ounce of determination she had left, gritting her teeth and moving farther through the parking lot.

“He's here,” she whispered, sliding her back against the front wheel of a car, her already soaked jeans pressed against the damp pavement. “He's here.”

Everything slowed, her heart beating like a dying drum against her chest, her breath shallow and drawn out on a tremble. She tightened her grip as her phone nearly tumbled from her sweat-slicked hand, her mouth dry with the taste of bile and metal.

He was going to find her. He would find her, and there would be nothing she could do.

The pain in her stomach had doubled, her body caught between fear and desperation, and she knew she wouldn't be able to stand, let alone run.

“I'm coming. I'm almost there, I promise. I'm not going to let him hurt you, okay? Just stay quiet, love. Please, just stay with me, Emma.”

He was too far, so far.

“I'm here,” she breathed. “Killian...I'm so scared.”

For a moment there was nothing more than the sound of his wrecked breathing and her quiet pants. Her hearing was sharpened, but she didn't hear any footsteps, didn't know if she even would over the rapid flutter of her pulse in her ears. There was a chance, if she had any luck left, that he'd glanced out the door and hadn't seen her. Maybe he was gone.

She exhaled and the air around her finally shifted, a gust of wind sweeping over the lot and cooling her heated skin. She almost sighed, the relief it brought making her forget for a second that she was drenched with slick, feverish and freezing at the same time – but then she smelled him, the alpha from the train.

He was close, the scent strong and just starting to deepen with notes of an alpha in rut, but nothing about it was heady and intoxicating like her own mate's. It was all wrong, and something feral in her snarled, wanting nothing to do with the male following her.

“Killian,” she broke, her whispered words nearly a cry, tears mixing with sweat as she realized her time was up, her vision blurring.

If she could smell the alpha, then he could smell her.

He would find her.

“Emma, I'm so close. I'll find you, I promise.”

“Killian, I love –”

Her phone clattered to the pavement at her feet, her words stolen as a strong hand grabbed her arm, ripping her up from where she'd been hiding. A pained yelp flew from her mouth as her shoulder twisted painfully, the world spinning as she was pinned against the hood of the car, a heavy body covering her back.

Her attacker's face pushed roughly into the crook of her neck, scenting her with a groan. She shuddered, squirming beneath him, her cries muffled as the suffocating weight of his arm pressed into her face. She sucked in meager, burning gulps of air, vomit rising in the back of her mouth as his tongue swept over the claim mark on her neck.

“You really gave me a chase,” the alpha groaned, his hips rutting against her backside, thrusting her own sore and cramping body into the wheel well. “I like a good chase though, and I've never smelled anything like you before.”

Twisting as much as she was able, she latched her teeth into an exposed section of his hand, her stomach lurching as the taste of blood filled her mouth, his angered snarl cutting across the dark parking lot. For a brief second the pressure eased and Emma hoped she might have a chance, but before she could even draw in a full breath he was back on her, changing his hold and wrapping his bloody fingers around the back of her neck instead. Cold air whipped between their lower bodies and she screamed as his other hand moved to her jeans, her knees banging against metal as she struggled.

“You don't know your place, Omega,” he growled, enjoying her whimper of pain as he pushed her more forcefully against the car, the sound of his zipper making her freeze. “I'll teach you. You'll thank me too. By the end you'll be begging for my knot.”

He kept talking, but his words were slipping away, everything moving farther away – even the piercing noise that Emma thought might have been her own screams, but she didn't know. She couldn't breathe, let alone scream. His fingers were tugging at her zipper, the wet, stubborn material of her jeans scrunching slowly down her hips.

She fought, struggled through the heavy fog settling around her. She didn't want this. It was all wrong. Not her mate, not Killian.

Then the world collapsed around her, lights and sounds finally folding into nothingness like a house of cards as her attacker grew more impatient, her body rocking against the car with each jerk as he struggled to lower the soaked material down her body, her position making it near impossible for him to get the jeans low enough with one hand.

Everything felt so distant, her breath on the hood of the car spreading like smoke and then fading away.

Then in a sudden rush the world snapped back to her, the hot weight against her back and fumbling hands torn away – the sound of something crashing into metal. The sound of a struggle as something was dragged across the pavement, grunts and curses and the sound of a fist hitting something over and over. There were voices now, shouts that come to her like a light through the fog. The sound of her jacket dragging against metal as she slumped to the ground. The sound of her sneakers pushing back gravel, and then the sound of her own voice as her knees hit the pavement.

“Killian,” she rasped, smelling him before she saw him, movement and light and clarity returning to her just as he rushed to her side, his blue eyes shining with tears and his hand, bloodied and swollen, moving to cup her face as he pulled her from the ground, as if she weighed nothing.

To him she never had.

She wanted to cry, finally enveloped by the heat and the scent and the person she needed, her hands twisting in his shirt as she strove to somehow get closer. Sensing her need, Killian shifted her carefully, juggling her in his arms as he shrugged his jacket off, draping it over her and shielding her in safety and comfort. His sweat and musk were soaked into the material, his scent flooding her, calming her frayed nerves and the part of her that still wanted to jump and kick at every noise reaching her ears.

His body was shaking with adrenaline, the tremors vibrating through her. She nestled against him, rubbing her cheek and neck along his skin in the way she knew would stir her own scent gland, easing his worry and calming him. She felt him settle around her, but then he started to move, growling out something unintelligible – it was then that she realized there must be people standing nearby. He paused and she clung to him tightly, his arms responding in kind. Fear crawled along her spine at the thought someone might be trying to separate them. From a gap in his jacket she could see the flicker of lights, red and blue against the metallic sheen of the cars. She knew he must be talking with a cop, that help had come, but she couldn't focus on the words.

Now that she was where she should be, the reality of her heat was falling back over her like a familiar weight.

The gentle swagger of his body resumed and there was the sound of a car door opening – a brief moment of terror when he let her go, her response immediate and frantic, but then he was back at her side, scooping her from the seat and back into his lap as he barked their address at whoever was driving.

The car pulled away, the fog of fear lessening and eventually falling away from her entirely as she basked in the comfort that was her mate, his arms wrapped solidly around her as he whispered her name over and over into her hair, his fingers caressing her sweat-soaked skin and soothing the writhing need inside of her, wordless promises that she wouldn't feel aching and empty for long, that he would take care of her.

~ * ~ * ~

She isn't sure how long the trip back home takes, but every moment she slides further away from the trauma she'd been put through and into the instinctual need that feels like it just may rip her apart. She's bathed in the scent of her mate – the deep, spicy musk heavy on his skin, laced with notes of sea salt and sweetness and something unique only to him. It's everything she's ever needed. Adrenaline and fear had triggered his rut in the same way they'd worsened her heat, and the familiar intoxicating tang that it edged his scent with was driving her wild with need, slick pooling once more between her legs as she core throbbed violently.

Her attack seems so distant, and far less important than finally getting into the privacy of their own home, to the place where her mate can soothe her and give them what they both desperately need. She wriggles in his lap, unable to hold back the needy plea that she presses into his skin, delighting in the low growl vibrating through his chest as he tightens his grip. Words are snapped at the driver and then Killian is tipping them both to the side as he digs into his pocket. A moment later the car slows to a stop and he's tossing something onto the front seat before easing them outside, her body still caged tightly within his arms.

His jacket is still draped over her, his arms holding it in place, but the collar had settled around her neck and she looks up into his stormy eyes, his pupils blown-wide, just as surely as her own are. There's an unquenchable need there, but below it she sees the fear, the regret and guilt, the anger. Her fingers drift up and cradle the tense line of his jaw, stroking until his muscles unclench, hoping he understands that everything is alright, everything will be alright.

They're together, and she's never felt more safe than she does right now.

He doesn't put her down, not once, despite the struggle it gives him in getting into the apartment, but she doesn't want him to, doesn't think she could stand to be separated for even an instant. She knows there are a lot of things to be said, to be asked, to be cried over, but right now she can't think past tearing off all of the layers that are keeping them apart.

They don't make it farther than the entryway, the door slamming shut behind them as he fingers the offending material of her jacket, the stench of the other alpha still wafting from the wool into the air. When he peels it carefully from her body, clearly resisting the urge to tear it from her, she sighs in relief, shrugging off the weight of it as he tosses it violently across the room.

Killian normally loves taking his time with his mate, using his fingers and mouth to bring her to completion before finally giving in to the crushing need to fill her and knot her, but her need is too great right now, too desperate, and his sudden rut is making it near impossible for him to walk her to the bedroom, let alone take care of her in the way he wants – to sit her down and ask what he can do, what she needs – he knows that she needs this, and he'll give it to her, to them both.

“Alpha...” she begs, suddenly falling to the floor at his feet, her chest pressed against his legs as she rubs her cheek against his crotch, her fingers trembling as she struggles to undo the button of his pants “...need you, Alpha.”

The air between them is thick with the mix of their scents, his blood pounding in his ears, need and fear and desire rolling together like some wild thing, the sweet scent of her slick so strong he can taste it on his tongue, wants to taste it on her soaked flesh.

“Omega,” he rasps, his vision sharpening to see her and only her, his cock hard and throbbing and every instinct in his body telling him that his omega needs him, that only he can give her what she craves. His hands settle tightly on her shoulders, turning her gently on the entryway carpet. “Present for your Alpha.”

Small, expectant whimpers tremble from her throat as she drops to her belly and slides her knees up behind her, her fingers hastily grabbing her rumpled jeans and pushing the sodden material over her ass and down her thighs, wriggling her legs to get them to her knees as an overpowering wave of her scent plows into him.

The sight of her sex, swollen and exposed, presented so wantonly in the air for him has his knot swelling at the base of his cock, his pulse racing as he shoves his jeans down his own legs and kneels behind her, holding the beast in him at bay so he can snatch one last human moment before he's lost completely, burying his mouth in her folds and greedily lapping her juices up, his tongue sweeping every inch he can reach before he pulls back with a growl, images flashing through his head – another alpha's hands on her, another male scenting her, imagining what she would feel like.

Somewhere in the back of his brain he knows that this isn't about that, but gods he needs to feel her to know that she's really there, that they're both here and he made it to her in time, that he didn't let her down completely when she needed him most, that she needs him in this way just as urgently as he needs her.

“Emma,” he whispers, her excited pants driving him on as he pulls back and hovers behind her, the swollen head of his cock throbbing against her scorching folds as his hands settle on her hips, “my Omega...”

“God, yes, yours, Alpha, always yours...”

“Mine.”

And then he's burying himself inside of her, her walls seizing around him the instant he does, her cries of his title and name muffled in the carpet as she gyrates her hips, trying to impale herself further. He wants to savor that first, heavenly wave of pleasure that sinking into her always brings, but the beast inside of him is unrelenting, needing to remind the both of them that she is his, and he is hers. Everything other than the ecstasy of their joining and her delicious noises falls away from him, lost beneath the haze of instincts he can't escape – his hips pistoning as he drags his cock from her grasping channel and thrusts back in, slick running freely from his omega and soaking the floor beneath them as she begs and pleads for all of him.

“Is that what you want, Omega,” he pants, the wet sounds of him pulling out and driving back into her filling the air, her firm ass bouncing as he rams into her again and again. “You need your Alpha's knot?”

“Please, Alpha, please, need it so bad,” she mumbles, her words running one over the next as she lets out a moan and shudders around him, so close to falling apart, but needing the fullness of his knot stretching her. “Just yours, just yours, Alpha...”

She tries to struggle upward, unable to shake the urge to feel her alpha covering her completely, his chest pressed against her back as he thrusts into her, claiming her entirely and leaving no inch of her body unmarked by his firm hold and powerful scent. She's shaking, her limbs barely able to support her own weight as he continues to plow into her, his knot fully swollen and catching the edges of her opening with each push deeper, but he senses what she needs, that the separation between them is too much, and he pauses for a second to move his hands from her hips, grabbing her arms and yanking her upper half closer, their two bodies bent together as he pulls her tightly against his chest, swallowing her small frame entirely as he holds her up, his rut bringing with it a strength that doesn't answer to weariness, but only to need.

His grunts are hot and rhythmic against her neck as he moves within her, his teeth sharper and gently razing the swollen gland that already bears his claim mark, sweat running from both of their bodies and sliding between them. Still riled by the threat to his omega, the beast inside of him is wild and frenzied, driving him to mark her again, to claim her once more – the only thing that will sate him. Beneath him her whimpers spiral into something keening and primal, her legs trembling despite the fact that he's holding both of them suspended as he thrusts, and he knows she's almost there, can feel her swollen walls spasming around him.

He slides one hand down her stomach, changing their angle and forcing himself deeper, his knot brushing further within her swollen walls as they begin to pulse around him.

“Mine, Omega...” he growls, completely lost to the beast as she keens beneath him in answer.

She is his, always his.

“Need it, need it, Alpha, please,” she cries, her walls pulling at the throbbing edge of his knot with each teasing thrust. “Need to feel you fill me up, make me yours, please...”

“Open up for me,” he pants against her skin, his teeth gliding down to clamp around the swell of her shoulder. He moves his hand lower and rubs against her clit, his calloused fingers pinching roughly, his words like liquid sin rolling over her, his cock thick and hard and stretching her in all the right ways, everything flowing and surging together in a brutal wave that crashes over her all at once, her vision fading and slipping into darkness as she shakes beneath him – the familiar sting of his teeth marking her shoulder a vibrant shock of blinding light beneath her lids, drawing every last pulsing moment of rapture from her body.

He thrusts into her one final time, his own peace finding him as he forces the swell of his knot into her tight sheath, the coil in his gut snapping and exploding outward as pleasure rocks his body, her walls milking every last drop of his seed – the beast inside of him quelled.

They come down together, Emma collapsing as he releases her shoulder and cushions her fall with his arms, stifling a groan at the pull between them where he's tightly joined with her still. He carefully maneuvers them to their sides on the damp carpet, Emma's breath leaving her in a gasp as the movement shifts him within her slightly, her walls shivering around him and drawing a last spasm from his still hard member.

“Killian,” she whispers, her voice tired yet serene, her head rolling against his chest so their lips can find one another. “Alpha...”

There are a few blissful minutes where their bodies breath as one, sighs traded between their lips and fingers tracing heated skin, but then the fog of need disperses and the weight of the evening falls back onto them, her body shaking in his embrace.

“Oh, love,” he murmurs, wishing he could pull her more comfortably into the safety of his arms, or that he’d spared a thought to getting them to the bedroom before they’d joined.

She reaches for his hand, pulling it to her lips and pressing small kisses into his skin, her tears running along her cheeks and into his palm as she weeps. He tries to hold and comfort her as best he can, his own tears darkening her hair as he presses her closer, whispering soft noises between them. He wants to tell her how sorry he is that he wasn’t by her side, that he hadn’t been able to prevent that monster from ever laying a hand on her, but he knows saying the words won’t make them true, and the last thing he wants to do is burden her with his own failings. With no words strong enough to soothe the hurt that’s been done to her, he simply offers what he can with his presence. As soon as their bodies slip apart, she’s turning into him, burying her face in the warmth of his chest and sighing into his embrace, neither of them sure of the next steps to take, or where those steps might take them.

~ * ~ * ~

It was never going to be easy – taking broken things and making them resemble what they once did never is, but its almost impossible when a new, jagged memory sits among the rest, waiting to find its place.

It wasn't easy the first week that swung violently between frantic couplings and emotional upheaval, a man and woman in uniform sitting opposite their couch as Emma recounted what happened, her hands gripping Killian's like a lifeline. He sat on the edge of the cushion, his body slanted between her and the police. Still mid-rut, his instincts to protect and shield her were at war with the man who understood she needed to tell her story, to do what she could to put the monster who had assaulted her behind bars.

It didn't get any easier the next week when her body finally gasped and released its need, her heat dissipating and leaving her an empty, broken shell that every happiness seemed to run straight through, spilling on the floor.

And none of the hours, or days, or weeks that came after were better. She'd wake at night with the memory of hands on her arm, pressing against her neck – the wrong hands – but there was never more than a second of panic before she was wrapped in the rightness that was her mate, her fears soothed if only for a few moments.

It wasn't easy when she sat on the couch with her therapist, sometimes talking, and sometimes saying nothing at all, but always wondering if those pieces she'd been broken into would ever amount to the strong, capable woman she used to be, or if that one dark piece meant they'd stay forever on the floor, waiting for the next blow that would crush them into an even finer dust.

It wasn't easy for Killian either, not the first week when he bent to the instincts they were both driven by, man warring with pure, primal need, unable to do anything but give in, but fearful that it was too much too soon – both the man and the beast left rabid with fury when the police informed them that while they suspected her attacker had a similar history in other cities, without corroboration or a record, he'd most likely be able to bargain down to a slap on the wrist.

It didn't get any easier after their rut and heat ended, reality slipping through their doorway as they searched for a new normal that didn't disturb the broken pieces that littered the floor and met them each day in the mirror. Killian confided that he'd decided to walk home for dinner when she mentioned the leftovers, that if he hadn't, if he'd decided to stay at the office, he was terrified to think of how much longer it would have taken him to get to her – how one little decision had meant so much. What other decision could he make that would be the wrong one?

None of the hours, day, or weeks that followed were better, waking from his own nightmares to comfort his mate, images he'd never forget still etched behind his closed eyes as Emma shuddered in his arms – the police holding him back from a scene he didn't want to see, Emma bloodied and broken on the ground because he'd taken too long to reach her, because she was a fighter, because he'd failed her.

He'd finally agreed to see someone, to try to find a way just as Emma was, but even then the weight of fixing things felt like a burden he'd crumble beneath, one infinitesimal crack away from shattering. How could he take the guilt, the anger, the resentment, the fear and wrap them up neatly into something that wouldn't drag him down with each step he took? How could he be there for Emma if he couldn't hold himself up? How could he forgive himself?

It wasn't easy, and it took more days and months than they could count, some of them passing in moments of brightness and others lingering like a sickness they couldn't shake, but they had each other. They had help, and gradually, like seasons shifting, the minutes between dark moments grew a little longer, the days between nightmares stretched.

It was months before they took anything but a car to get around Boston, and even then never alone. Emma still hated confined spaces, leaving the doors open to every room she was in, even at work or home, and neither of them were as comfortable with long absences than they once were. When Killian mentioned a transfer to a small ship yard in New York, Emma could see through his reassurances that he would be happy there. She knew his heart, and she also knew hers, so she knew it wasn't right for them.

This was their home, and she wasn't going to let that monster take it away from her, from Killian, from the future they'd always envisioned here.

So they fought for it, through the days that were easy and the ones that weren't, which a year later were few and far between, and on the day that Emma told Killian they would need to move his office out of the spare room, it had never been easier to forget that brief moment of darkness in the face of so much light and promise.

And on the day they painted it a beautiful sea-blue that peeked through the slats of the crib Killian had put together himself, they barely ever thought of all those broken pieces – the few that still lingered were familiar and softened by time, as ingrained into the foundation of who they were now as anything whole – instead, they chose to look ahead to where there was a happy beginning to a new story – and above all else, there was Hope.

#Captain Swan #cs fanfic #cs ff #emma and hook #sailtoafarawayland #omegaverse

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doudecim · 4 years ago

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I want to say that 99% of the fics here are on FF.net for I have only recently discovered the wonders of AO3, and I still didn’t dig deep in there to find all the HitsuKarin goodies.

That being said, I will put the list under the cut because this will be one very long post. So, I hope you all enjoy it!

one-shots

A Constant Fascination, by back-in-a-bit. — 'Colour me blood red passionately.' Hitsugaya makes it his personal mission to get Karin to blush. Pity it's easier said than done. In fact, it might just take him a lifetime. [rated T]

A Fall in the Fall, by MeteorLeopard. — This was ridiculous! There she was, just looking at the fish, and the next thing she knows, she's up in a tree being held against her will! And it's all his fault! [rated T]

a little suffering is good for the soul, by the milliner’s rook. — Future fic. If there are stupider ways to get courted, Karin can't think of them. [rated K+]

A Woman Scorned, by Glowing Blue. — The twisted fairy tale of Karin finding her own invite to the ball, though she's hardly looking for a Prince Charming. [rated T]

but leave the soul alone, by the milliner’s rook. — AU. Death, it's catching. Or: the one where Toushirou and Karin share night shifts at the hospital. And coffee. Terrible, terrible coffee. [rated K+]

Collection, by ichilover3. — A drabble/oneshot dump. Shenanigans, silliness, and sexy-times abound. Also alliteration, apparently. [rated M]

crawl into your shadow, by the milliner’s rook. — AU. There's a witch in this sleepy little village now that goes by the name of Karin, but nothing has changed since she's arrived. Not really. [rated T]

Delirous, by carved in the sand. — Matsumoto finds her captain to be a lovestruck teenage boy. [rated T]

duckling theory, by the milliner’s rook. — The first thing Karin notices is watermelon. Looking back, maybe it should have been startling green eyes. [rated K]

For You, by Glowing Blue. — Death had never been the paradise everyone wished it to be. But then they found each other. [rated T, two-shot.]

frostbitten, by the milliner’s rook. — Set during the time skip. The winter they meet is unkind with snow. [rated K+]

Frozen Moments, by CrazyAce'n'PokerFace. — 101 drabbles/one-shots that give a glimpse into Toushirou and Karin's life together. A love story told in snapshots. [rated K+]

funny valentine, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — I'll be yours if you'll be mine. [rated K+]

humour me, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — True love's kiss. That ought to do it. [rated K+]

i’m high on believing, by the milliner's rook. — For the record, he prefers his plain black shoes to her fancy red sneakers. [rated K+]

ice breaker, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — AU. There are better ways to get found out than making out in a closet and tumbling onto the ground. [rated T]

if my heart was a compass you’d be north, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — Future fic. Give me a reason to believe. [rated K+]

In Every Season, by Adobo-chan. — A collection of HitsuKarin oneshots. [rated T]

In the Dark, by ichilover3. — It really wasn't anyone else's business. She should be allowed to fornicate with midgets if she wanted to. [rated T]

innocent guilt, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — AU. Oh, I know! You're a tramp with wings! [rated K+]

Juxtaposition, by Lady Azar de Tameran. — Something within Hitsugaya Toushirou thinks that he may have met his match. [rated T]

keep me in your pocket, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — Set during the timeskip. Don't stay out of touch, okay? [rated K+]

Kuchiki Rukia, the Glorified Courier, by MeteorLeopard. — Delivering super-top-secret messages between dimensions is tough work; believe me, I know. If it weren't such a rewarding experience I'd downright refuse to play the messenger. Honestly. [rated K+]

liliputians, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — Future fic. It's alright, kid. I'm short too. [rated K+]

Lovely Complex, by Unknown lazy ass. — She slyly grinned, “Wow, you really are head over heels for me, aren’t you Toushirou?” [rated K+]

Momo knows Best, by MeteorLeopard. — Sometimes having a meddling older sister... sucks. [rated T]

of halos and wings, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — Future fic. He had betrayed Hinamori with nothing but his heart. [rated T]

Old Haunts, by the milliner's rook. — Future fic. You were just gone, Toushirou, what was I to think? I thought—I thought you'd come back, and you did, twenty years too late. [rated T]

Peeping Tom, by Glowing Blue. — The love story of Hitsugaya and Karin, as seen from open windows and heard through thin walls. "Hisagi's eyes had a tendency to stray." AU. [rated T]

phantasmagoria, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — Flickering through black and white, they find their perfect shade of grey. [rated K+, two-shot.]

put down your sword and crown, by the milliner's rook. — AU. When her old man dies to save Ichi-nii's life, everything changes. Days after the funeral, the word Quincy is spoken for the first time, and at five years old, Karin becomes defined by it. [rated K+]

Red, The Colour of Despair, by the milliner's rook. — It was strange how much difference one colour could make. [rated K+]

Revenants, by carved in the sand. — Hitsugaya ponders the ghosts that haunt the girl he still loves. [rated T]

Sports and Sex are Universal (but never the twain should meet), by back-in-a-bit. — Toushirou gives Karin a flat look. "I'm not high-fiving you over sex," he says. [rated M]

Subtle, by nublados. — Toshiro comments on the subtlety that is Karin Kurosaki. [rated K+]

The Art of Asking, by Felix02. — He should have known that her father wouldn't be able to keep a secret, especially from one of his daughters. [rated T]

The Art Of Getting By, by the milliner's rook. — AU. There's some difficulty between juggling flirting, killing Hollows and getting to class on time with the hottest guy in high school, but Karin's certain she'll get the hang of it eventually. [rated T]

The Staircase not Taken, by MeteorLeopard. — Perhaps it was a good thing that the stairs were destroyed, her brother acting demented and a violent fight going on without her just upstairs. After all, the visitor who happened to drop by was worth the wait. [rated T]

the winter sun smiled for things to come in spring, by the milliner's rook. — What is it with you! You're either too young or too old! What the hell! [rated T, two-shots.]

Urahara's Lawn Mowing Service, by MeteorLeopard. — Incorrect phone numbers are a messy business. Even messier though is the business that happens after said incorrect phone call. "Fine, but I bet your girlfriend didn't call back because your lawn needs to be mowed." [rated T]

velocity, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — Aim for the goal, and don't look back, no matter what. [rated T]

where angels fear to tread, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — They belong in hell. [rated K]

You Taste Like Birthday, You Look Like New Year, by the milliner's rook. — Future fic. She likes his hands, Toushirou notices. Loves them, in fact. [rated M]

complete

lune, by SebonzaMitsuki27. — AU. Me and you and moonlight shivers. [[rated T] other main pairings are ByakuyaHisana, ShinjiHiyori and UlquiorraNel, so beware that HitsuKarin is not the only focus in this one.]

Waterlogged, Wind-chapped, and Sun-bleached. — They grow up together, and the slow progression of their relationship shapes their world. AU. [rated T]

Wendybird Chronicles, by the milliner's rook. — She wonders if they ever had a chance. If they might have missed it, somehow. [rated K+]

on going

Wrong Number, by Lunatasha. — Unknown (10:22): So! I just read all of the conversations I had last night while I was out drunk and thoroughly embarrassing myself and please let me apologise for bothering you (especially as I think you were working if you were in your office?) last night. I mean in hindsight I probably should have stopped messaging you as soon as it was clear you weren't who I was looking for, but drunk me apparently hates sober me so yeah, I'm sorry. That being said thank you again for helping me out even though I must have been bothering you, I appreciate it. [rated T]

Only in Dreams, by TullyBlue. — Brother, she had called him, but he spent the entire meal acting like she was a ghost. Eating with the twins, he can’t even imagine being that cold to his sisters. Yuzu’s laughter brightens his day and that admiring glint in Karin’s eye, that he only catches every once in a while, means the world to him. The so-called brother in his dreams makes Ichigo’s skin crawl. Everything else, though, he wants to see more of, to know more about, to understand. Old, wood floors, a spacious room, flowing black robes, and those swords... [[rated T] other main pairings are IchigoRukia, UryuuChad, GanjuHanatarou, so beware that HitsuKarin is not the only focus in this one.]

abandoned or on permanent hiatus, probably won’t ever post a new chapter again

Blizzard Blues, by the milliner's rook. — Future fic. I heard your brother had an eight pack, Captain Hitsugaya! That he was shredded! [rated T]

Catalyst, by Etiena. — With captain-level shinigami in her family, it is no surprise that Kurosaki Karin has potential. But it isn't family which triggers her change. Instead, a chance encounter with a young shinigami captain leads to startling revelations. [rated K+]

Go Against the Grain, by Adobo-chan. — Old law deems that only a son may become the Kurosaki House's next leader. Born from this ancient tradition, a tragic betrayal and her mother's sacrifice, Karin is brought up as Kurosaki Kazuto, the 29th head of the family. [rated T]

oh sinful rose, by the milliner's rook. — AU. Five years after the monarchy is overthrown, a noble finds a forgotten princess in chains. DISCONTINUED. [rated T]

Quandary, by Glowing Blue. — Funnily enough, meeting such a spirited single mother was actually part of his job description. AU. [rated T] (I love this one so much!)

Roommate For Sale, by SavageTrickster. — AU. There are many things in life that she didn't know, but the one thing Kurosaki Karin was certain of is that her overprotective brother is going to blow his top when he meets her new roommate.

#jesus fucking christ this is so long #hitsukarin #karin kurosaki #toshiro hitsugaya #bleach #fic rec #i have literal 0 self love

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starlariat · 3 years ago

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Quincy: Vollständig Names: A Sternritter Study

Pt. 2 – Battle in the Skies Above

{ ooc } Well, since none of you are going out of your way to stop me-

Welcome back to another rousing episode of Jeff Shares His Headcanons for Every Sternritter’s Quincy: Vollständig Name as He Attempts to Further Worldbuild Bleach Against His Better Judgement, everyone! Last time, I conceived of several name ideas for the Quincy: Vollständig transformations of the Sternritter ladies, because I damn well love consistency, I especially love that group, and I hate information gaps. I’ll skip the recap as to how Vollständig works and subsequent yadda this time, so let’s get right to the point!

For this round of Sternritter hypothesizing, I’m going to focus on the ones who were present towards the final act of the Blood War, leading up to and including the events at the Soul King Palace. Reverse order by Schrift, just like before! Starting off with a Quincy who joined Yhwach and his Schutzstaffel on their assault at the palace, it’s...

Nianzol Weizol – The Wind

(paging @kyousei because this one’s for you!)

Nianzol! Though the presence of this literally two-tongued Quincy was short-lived in the story, a most interesting power was introduced nonetheless! The Wind, a Schrift that reads as “Twists and Turns,” allowed Nianzol to distort and deflect any attacks that would come to do harm! Even surprise attacks were useless, so you would have to be Senjumaru-levels of sneaky to be able to land anything. We can only imagine what a Quincy: Vollständig-enhanced The Wind would have looked like... maybe something like distorting all physical space in an immediate vicinity?

With that kind of power in mind, here’s some options!

Iophiel/Jophiel (神の美貌 (イオフィエル), iofieru; Japanese for “Beauty of God”) borrows the name of an angel said to have driven Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. This suggestion works two ways, be it in the sense of keeping people out of the Garden and in keeping attacks from marring Nianzol’s unique face!

Gadriel (神の境界 (ガドリエル), gadorieru; Japanese for “Boundary of God”) goes for face value with the actual name meaning “Wall of God.” Not to be confused with the fallen angel “Gadreel,” who was said to have seduced Eve into eating the forbidden fruit.

NaNaNa Najahkoop – The Underbelly

NaNaNa! Yeesh, this poor guy just can’t catch a break. The most action we see of him in the manga either took place offscreen or in group battles that also went offscreen. Then, right when he, Bazz-B, Giselle, and Liltotto confront Shinigami seeking their way up to the Soul King Palace, he gets shot in the back with a Burner Finger 1 and subsequently perishes! Next thing he knows, he wakes up as part of Captain Kurotsuchi’s Corpse Unit (per the events of Bleach: Can’t Fear Your Own World) alongside Candice and Meninas, and of the three, he’s the only one who Mayuri keeps around on a leash at the end of the novel series! I sure wouldn’t want to be him.

It’s a shame, his Schrift seemed pretty interesting and I was curious to see how he would’ve fared against a bound up Aizen... With The Underbelly being an analytical power that points out weaknesses in one’s reiatsu and induces paralysis, what kind of Quincy: Vollständig would he have had? I’ve got one idea at least!

Ophanim (神の目撃 (オファニム), ofanimu; Japanese for “God’s Eyewitness”), named after a type of angel of knowledge. Referred to as the “many-eyed ones,” Ophanim are often depicted as fiery wheels covered with eyes, and are said to never sleep, just like the Cherubim and the Seraphim. Now what was it that NaNaNa did after Renji defeated Mask de Masculine...?

Bazz-B – The Heat

Bazzard Black himself! Childhood friend to Grandmaster Haschwalth and proud owner of the funkiest mohawk in Bleach, his flames are powerful enough to counter those of Ryūjin Jakka. Though Captain-Commander Yamamoto attempted to turn him, NaNaNa, and Äs into ash with his zanpakutō, they later emerged relatively unscathed thanks to the power of The Heat! Bazz-B’s Burner Finger makes for a hell of a demonstration of his mastery over fire, his firepower (hehehehe), and his marksmanship, given how strong and well-aimed his attacks are.

Without a doubt, we’ll want a Quincy: Vollständig name to demonstrate that. Here are some of what I believe would be most fitting:

Uriel (神の聖火 (ウリエル), urieru; Japanese for “Holy Flame of God”) is another name (meaning “Fire of God” or “God is my light”) attributed to the angel that drove Adam and Eve from the Garden of Eden. This cherub stands at its Gate with a flaming sword, and is often attributed with fire in his palm. In modern angelology, Uriel is considered “the regent of the sun.”

Surtr (神の劫火 (スルト), suruto; Japanese for “Calamitous Flames of God”), named after the guardian to the fiery realm of Múspell in Old Norse mythology. With flaming sword in hand, Surtr sought to wage war against the gods come the end of the world. I blame Fire Emblem Heroes and Thor: Ragnarok for making me consider this one.

Helios (神の太陽 (ヘーリオス), hēriosu; Japanese for “Sun of God”), named after the god of the sun in ancient Greek myth, and conflated with the Roman sun god Sol. This one is my personal favourite since this name leans into the crested helmet and cape Bazz wore as a child!

Jugram Haschwalth – The Balance / The Almighty

Jugo! Emperor Yhwach’s advisor, Grandmaster of the Sternritter, and second-in-command over the entire Quincy army, Haschwalth finds himself in a different position when it comes to the hallowed power of Quincy: Vollständig. Though he is second to Yhwach in authority, I feel that he likely does not possess such a boon, mainly on account of the boatload of other abilities in his kit that make him exceptional among all Quincy.

The ability to impart his power unto others, something once thought unique to Yhwach for 200 years in his youth. The ability to amplify the powers of other Quincy by virtue of his presence alone. Breaking the natural barrier of Reishi absorption, a skill common to other Quincy that Jugram had to overcome because of his own physical makeup. Swapping The Balance with The Almighty whenever Yhwach slept, thus granting him not only the ability to redirect misfortune towards himself by default, but also the ability of precognition. These with his own physical prowess already make him one of the most fearsome fighters among all the Sternritter, so adding a Quincy: Vollständig would seem ultimately redundant, given that he is already firing on all cylinders just like Yhwach.

In fact, I would say it is because he is like Yhwach, the son of the Soul King and self-assumed forefather of the Quincy, that he probably has no unique Vollständig. Despite being able to channel Reishi as an adult into his Freund Schild (instead of a Heilig Bogen) and into techniques like Blut Vene or Hirenkyaku, Jugram’s powers veer towards redistribution and imparting by default rather than taking it all in for himself. Though Quincy: Vollständig does enhance a Sternritter’s Schrift, it is still mainly an evolved form of Letzt Still, which brings with it complete dominance over Reishi. I wouldn’t say it’s impossible for him to have Vollständig of his own, more improbable because of possible struggles with his own body.

That said, be it honorary or a legitimate Vollständig, I do have a name in mind for Jugram. I have only the one, because I do not believe that any other name would do:

Michael (神の聖人 (ミカエル), mikaeru; Japanese for “Sainted One of God”), named after the Archangel, protector of humanity, and sainted leader of God’s armies. He is known to wield a sword and shield, and is often depicted carrying balancing scales. The name in Hebrew literally translates into the rhetorical question: “Who is as God?”

HONOURABLE MENTIONS

Uryū Ishida – The Antithesis

Uryū! Longtime series mainstay, long believed to have been the last Quincy, and the only other Quincy of mixed heritage to have survived Auswählen (save Ichigo), Ishida was conscripted into the Wandenreich and appointed as Yhwach’s successor. Though a master of Quincy arts, I don’t believe that he would have knowledge of Vollständig during the war proper due to:

The short timeframe between the encounter with Asguiaro Ebern at the very beginning of the Blood War arc, and his recruitment into the Sternritter.

The amount of training needed to achieve Quincy: Vollständig, on top of how physically demanding it is to uphold, per Candice and Giselle’s commentary.

Quincy: Vollständig being a perfected version of Letzt Still, achieved exclusively within Yhwach’s empire and outdating Letzt Still by hundreds of years.

Sōken, though part of the empire in the past, left Yhwach’s side and kept to the older traditions, which he then taught to his son Ryūken and his grandson Uryū.

Plenty of suspicion and mistrust from his fellow Quincy watching his every move.

All of that said... I personally do feel that such power is well within his reach, for a couple of reasons:

Uryū is highly intelligent and studious, demonstrating a deep understanding of a wide variety of Quincy tools and techniques, and a mastery of these that the majority of the Sternritter simply don’t have.

Though far more tolerant than the other Quincy, Uryū does have a disdain for shinigami. The last thing he would want, I’d imagine, is to be outmatched by soul reapers, let alone Captain-class ones and above like Ichigo.

Bleach: Can’t Fear Your Own World shows that Quincy: Vollständig that were lost due to Yhwach’s Auswählen can return with time, inferring that this new stage of power can be achieved by Quincy—at least—engraved with a Schrift in their souls, even after Yhwach “died.”

With time, should he apply himself and seek to improve the power of The Antithesis, Uryū could realize a Quincy: Vollständig of his own someday. As for a name, I doubt he’ll want to give it any etymological association to Yhwach, so... hey, further creative license!

Pernida Parnkgjas – The Compulsory

Lefty! Thankfully, this one will be brief.

Like Gerard Valkyrie, Pernida joined the Sternritter with all of its powers already available from the outset, without being bestowed with any extras on Yhwach’s part. The Compulsory is therefore a Schrift in name only, all to bestow a title to its powers of “evolution governance” as the Left Hand of the Soul King, in contrast to Mimihagi’s power of “stagnation governance.” In spite of that, it is a member of Yhwach’s Schutzstaffel who takes great pride in calling itself a Quincy, even going so far as to generate Heilig Bogen of its own.

There is no Quincy: Vollständig here, not only because he was not granted anything new from Yhwach, but also on account of how its powers work: Pernida is always evolving. It adapts to its enemies’ levels of strength at an accelerated rate and then some, it regenerates and clones itself nigh instantly, and it can manipulate its environment by extending its nerves into the earth. Gerard may be the Heart of the Soul King, but he is still a flesh-and-blood Quincy, and Quincy have existed long before Yhwach came into being. On the other hand (teehee!), Pernida is not a human being but a sentient hand, standing as a godly being who represents “Progress.”

Albeit for different reasons compared to Jugo, Pernida having a Vollständig would once again be redundant. Besides, what else can you include when it’s literally a walking, talking piece of God himself? He’s already Pernida Parnkgjas (神の左手 (ペルニダ・パルンカジャス), Perunida Parunkajasu; Japanese for “Left Hand of God”)!

—

AND THAT’S A WRAP! Only eight more Sternritter to go, so I’m gonna split them into two smaller parts with four apiece!

Like I said last time, if you happen to RP as any of these folks, feel free to use the Quincy: Vollständig names you see here for your muses! Just credit me if you happen to, for it would be highly appreciated. ❤️

Part 0 – Mask de Masculine Headcanon: Vollständig

Part 1 – Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss (Bambietta, Liltotto, Meninas, Candice, Giselle)

Part 2 – Battle in the Skies Above (Jugram, Bazz-B, NaNaNa, Nianzol, Uryū, Pernida)

Part 3 – ???

Part 4 – ???

#{ beneath the mask 🌟 ooc 🌟 }#{ cut for length }#{ know your heroes 🌟 headcanon 🌟 }#{ ...ish-? }#personals don't interact #{ ooc: ROUND 2 HERE WE GO-! }#{ tl;dr if you happen to write a muse among these then boy do I have an offer of a lifetime for you-! }

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gerberbabey · 4 years ago

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cocaine | kiara carrera

madison bailey rlly met her gf ON TIKTOK, thats wild and now i see that my chances arent as low as i believe. anyways love that for them.

writing this made me so damn depressed. like if anyone would like to fall in love w me, im just here...chillin.

masterlist | cocain series: 2 | 3

summary: Kiara falls in love with someone who isn’t willing to love anymore (story inspired by the mentioned song and this scene).

warnings: that gay shit, cursing, angst, underage drug use, underage drinking, mentions of dying, unrequited love?

♫ Cocaine by Pink Sweat$ ♫

Kooks could talk as much shit as they wanted but it didn’t exactly stop them from showing up at the boneyard for a kegger. They whined and complained about Pogues but still came around to the other side of the island because they knew they would have a good time.

“It’s like watching National Geographic,” Kie winced and you sputtered out a laugh, stumbling back as you tried to keep the water from dripping onto your clothes. There was a pocket of Kooks jumping around to the music, moving in a weird sort of unison that was both stiff and awkward.

“Ew,” Kie laughed as you leaned forward to spit out the water that you had been trying to drink. To be honest it wasn’t that funny of a comment but you were also high of your ass so everything was hilarious.

“I can’t breathe,” you huffed out and Kie had to hold you steady when you stumbled into her. You were laughing so hard that it was at that point where you weren’t even making any noise. She couldn’t stop herself from laughing because of how hard you were laughing.

“Oh my god (Y/N) it wasn’t even that funny!”

“Then why are you laughing?!”

“Because you’re laughing!”

The two of you burst out into another fit of giggles as you wrapped your arms around the girl, resting your head on her chest as she wrapped her arms around you and struggled to keep the two of you standing.

“Are you two ok?” Pope walked up to the two of you just as you stumbled into the sand in a laughing heap. You let out one giggled and took in a deep breath as you stared up at Pope, your head hazy and heavy.

“Chillin dude,” you drawled out and Pope shook his head before he helped the two of you up. Kia brushed off the sand from her curls and you gave an aggressive shake of your head as you brushed out the sand from hair at the same time. Kie let out a noise and Pope stepped back to avoid any sand flying at him.

When you stopped you stumbled to straighten up. Everything around you was moving fast and yet slow at the same time and you let out a laugh.

Kie couldn’t help but look at you with a dopey look on her face. She wished she could tell you just how much she loved you. The day Kie had realized she was in love with her best friend was a bit of a stressful one. Kie was a firm believer of the “No Pogue on Pogue macking rule”. Not only did she believe it would change everything if broken, she also didn’t want to have a reason to be tied down to the Outer Banks. She loved her friends, her family, and her life on the island but she knew she was capable of so much more. Deep down in her heart she knew that she was meant to travel the world. That the best way for her to succeed was to get out of the Outer Banks and into the world.

But then one day she looked into your eyes and knew she loved you. That she was in love with you.

You were friends with the Pogues before she’d joined the group but you were the first one she met. You met the rest of the Pogues through JJ, and then had integrated Kie into the group after you started working at The Wreck.

After the betrayal of Sarah Cameron and the pain she went through being ostracized by her entire school, meeting you and then the boys had been her saving grace. Sure you weren’t jumping to your feet to try and help baby sea turtles into the ocean, but you always listened to her. You understood her.

“I mean everyone’s freaking out about plastic straws but the cups are like...more plastic,” you added to her rant and she nodded enthusiastically.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying!”

She was pretty much convinced the two of you were soulmates the day you had played her a playlist that you made just for her.

Yet even though she was so head over heels in love there was too many reasons why she couldn’t tell you.

One of the biggest reasons was your lack of faith in love and relationships. Convincing you that falling in love and being in love was a good thing proved to be a difficult feat. You’d been hurt so much by the concept of love that you’d moved past the point of thinking you’d ever fall in love. You left it behind and believed wholeheartedly that it wasn’t something meant for you. You didn’t believe in marriage and didn’t believe that you would ever find that person. You’d stopped looking and that meant that you couldn’t and wouldn’t see Kie in the way she wished you would.

“Yo (Y/N)!”

You and your friends turned at that and Kie watched you grin as you ran up to the boy who called you. You jumped into his arms and Kie bit her lip.

“Dude! What the fuck is up?!” You yelled as the boy laughed and let you down. You were jumping around excitedly, “Yo when did you get home?”

“Yesterday.”

“Who’s that?” Kie asked JJ and the boy turned to look at what she was talking about.

“Huh? Oh that’s Quincy, he graduated last year I think? Went to the Navy or something, him and (Y/N) were really close.”

“Oh.”

Kie wondered why she never heard about Quincy.

“Kie!!!” You waved her over and Kie pushed down that weird feeling that was rising up and hid it with a smile. She moved to stand by you and tried not preen when you took her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and holding on tight. She hoped that Quincy would conclude that she was yours. (You may not have been hers, but she was wholeheartedly yours).

“Kie this Quincy. He was my fuckin plug before he left,” you laughed and Quincy crossed his arms and gave you a look. Kie felt a little relieved but then thought about this.

“Didn’t you start smoking when you were like...in middle school?” Kie asked and Quincy laughed while you shrugged.

“Yeah, can you imagine how I felt seeing this 12 year old asking me if I sold?”

Kie tried not to cringe. You’d been smoking for way longer than she’d known you. Your tolerance surpassed JJ, likely because of your lack of tolerance breaks. Kie could argue that at least you’d only smoked weed and hadn’t dove into other, harder drugs. The one time you had, Kie nearly had a heart attack and the boys almost killed a boy for urging you to take it.

You’d told her once that you just really liked how being high made you feel. The strain you smoked made you feel relaxed. It eased your mind and your body.

You told her that you started smoking after your parents separated. They’d fallen out of love and decided that rather than being adults and dealing with their issues themselves, they’d put the weight and stress of their problems onto your shoulders. A year later you had decided you were going to quit because you’d fallen in love with your boyfriend of a year and a half. You nearly did stop getting high, but then your boyfriend broke up with you, didn’t tell you you why, and then ghosted you.

3 days later he’d posted about his new girlfriend (he’d reassured you nothing was going on between them when you were together. The time stamp of the filtered picture told you and everyone else otherwise).

Kie wanted to spite the people who’d led to the walls you built around your heart.

You had guided Kie and Quincy back over to the other Pogues and Kie couldn’t help but cling to you that night. She didn’t like Quincy’s familiarity with you. It was kind of childish really but it’d been a while since you’d looked eager to interact with anybody who weren’t the Pogues. Kie’s heart skipped a beat when she realized how absolutely ok you were with her holding and touching you.

“Hey...(Y/N)?”

“Hmm..?”

The two of you were laying in her bed. The kegger had ended some time ago and though the two of you would’ve usually stayed at the Chateau with the boys, she’d decided she wanted to spend the rest of her night alone with you. She’d appreciated Quincy taking the two of you to her house.

“You really don’t think you’re going to get married?” she questioned quietly and she watched you open your eyes and look into her own.

“Hm...Yeah. Probably not,” you told her honestly.

“Why not?”

“...I don’t know. I don’t think I’d want to commit to someone that much. Plus...I don’t think anyone would wanna commit to being with me either.”

Kie would.

“But what if someone loves you...so so much, but you just won’t open yourself up to them? Would you really risk losing that before you even know it?”

You stayed silent at that. This was something that constantly went through your mind. sometimes you thought about those “what if” moments constantly. What if you’d given that boy a chance? Would you be in love with him now? Would the two of you be happy?

Yet you also thought: but maybe the two of you would be miserable instead. Maybe it would just lead to more pain.

“I don’t know if I could deal with being hurt because of love again.”

“...Ok...”

The two of you eventually drifted off to sleep. Kie’s chest hurt but she dreamt about kissing you.

Kie sometimes wished that she could be the one to bring your heart out of its hiding place. She wanted to be the person that you were willing to finally love. She wanted you to toss aside the risk of getting hurt because she’d make it clear to you that she would never hurt you.

JJ had gotten too high once, and had told her that you and him sometimes went to the dock and just sat there in silence. That the two of you would allow your worries to ease just by being beside one another and that you both knew that even without talking, or venting, or even smoking, you understood how JJ felt and JJ understood how you felt.

Kie wanted that.

She wished she didn’t have to push so hard for you to feel comfort in her, but she would continue pushing nonetheless. Despite how close the two of you were as friends, vulnerable moments were rare with you.

“Kie, I need you to leave this alone ok? It’s seriously not any of your business,” you’d tried to shake her off and she only became angrier. The boys had shuffled out of the room the moment you’d walked in with Kie yelling at you.

She had went to pick you up and caught you snorting a line of...something, in your room.

“None of my business!? I can’t just let you hurt yourself like this (Y/N)!”

“Kie you smoke with me! Fucking weed is killing me just as much as any other drug would! If you cared so much then don’t cherry pick what you decide to care about!”

“Don’t ever tell me how I feel!”

“God you’re not my fucking mom Kie, just stop!”

“No (Y/N)!”

You’d stormed off after that argument. Out of all the people in your life you thought Kie would be the last person the chastise you for anything you did. You thought she understood. Kie felt terrible when you didn’t come around to the Chateau or even talk to her and the Pogues for the rest of the day. Kie’s heart was in your hands and you were squeezing.

The next day, Kie had bursted into your room crying.

“You can’t be mad at me for just wanting you to be ok...” she sobbed and you held her tight to you.

“I know Kie, I know. I’m sorry,” you mumbled into her hair before you gave her a kiss on the forehead. She pulled back to look at you and she took in the worried expression on your face. She was hyper aware of the feeling of your thumbs stroking her cheek. Kie shut her eyes and leaned forward to press her lips onto yours.

Her heart broke into a million pieces when you gasped and backed away.

“Oh my god...” Kie sobbed and stood from where the two of you had clung to each other on your bed, “I’m sorry-I just..I’m gonna go-”

You couldn’t say a word as you watched Kie rush out of your room.

“Fuck!” she yelled before the door slammed shut.

part 2...?

#outer banks imagine #kiara carrera x reader #kiara carrera imagine #kie carrera x reader #kie x reader #kie imagine #kie carrera imagine #x reader #reader insert #angst #romance #poc!reader #woc!reader #outer banks #obx #obx imagines #outer banks fic #obx fic #outer banks fanfiction

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merakiui · 4 years ago

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There's an AFTERL!FE blog now! I'm so happy. All of your posts are so good and I love how you write. Would it be possible to get another story about Theo and Nine's rivalry? The way you write them is just so fun and enjoyable to read.

(Thank you so much! I’m very happy that you like my posts. (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ* You may definitely have another story of their rivalry! I had a blast writing it. This can be considered a sequel to Cake, but it can be read as a standalone as well.)

Nerium Oleander (Theo and Nine)

Stalkers are poison ivy. Their victims are innocent trees, who breathe life and fortune into the one who watches them like a hawk. Twining around their limbs like rope and heavy iron and keeping them pinned for all their worth—it’s a display of parasitic infatuation. Love, like any other emotion felt in full, is awfully draining. Day and night, allowing that person to consume your thoughts. Thinking and wondering if they appreciate you just as much as you value them. Wishing that they would notice everything you’ve done for them on the sidelines. Loathing anyone who threatens that nonexistent relationship.

As fate would have it, there are unlucky instances in which love is one-sided.

Theo simply can’t bear the thought of that, so he becomes oleander—a flower blooming in beautiful death. One hint of its aroma can send you to an early grave. Every inch of the inviting flower is bathed in poison, and yet it’s still so gorgeous. Why is it that the ugliest personalities have the prettiest shells? It’s frustrating to know that he has competition. In a setting with nineteen other Reapers, Theo’s got a lot on his plate. Like ivy and oleander, it’s the exterior that fools. A sharp, monstrous idea can be wonderful as long as it’s hidden within layers of honeyed promises. Like a cake that’s stacked with plenty of delicious flavors.

He doesn’t want to waste his time on endeavors that won’t bear any fruit, but befriending every Reaper will have its benefits. He’s already made a list of those who pose the highest threat to his precious manager. Nine is at the very top, his name circled in black pen. As much as he dislikes the polite and oh-so-gracious Reaper, he has to pretend as if the two of them are friendly coworkers. As if he doesn’t wish for Nine to transfer to another Department or to cease existing. But immortality is funny like that. You’re either stuck with the best people in the world or the fiends of your worst nightmares. Theo wonders if this is his punishment. Spending an eternity with Nine is far more hellish than Quincy and his status as a devil.

Which is why he holds so much hatred for those who hurt his manager, specifically the ones who simply don’t know when to quit.

The blue-eyed oleander witnesses it in the early hours of the morning during a particularly unfavorable mission. A vengeful spirit had the gall to hurt his manager, and they had even more of a spine to talk to them as if they were a worthless weed. In his garden of noxious plants, Theo sees the disgusting hemlock attempting to snuff out the beauty that is his beloved rose. His expression switches in an instant, a light flickering behind those expansive eyes. There are so many emotions he feels in that moment, but fear is dominant as it grabs his heart and squeezes. The spirit could kill them. It’s about to kill them, and he’s flipping through his spell book with rapturous intent.

And then Nine is at their side, shielding them from the spirit’s attack. Before him, the specter vents in anger, spewing meaningless insults. Theo feels as though he’s just been kicked in the stomach. Why is it so hard to get to you? he thinks, gripping the leather book. His chest aches as he sees the manager cling to Nine. Why can’t I be the one who saves you for once? Why can’t you just rely on me? Nine is better equipped to deal with the situation as he listens, attempting to reason with the vengeful spirit. Its crocodile tears don’t faze Theo in the slightest. He should be the one crying because he was too late. One spell and his manager would’ve been rescued from the claws of such a beastly spirit. And yet Nine was faster with his reaction time.

Theo makes a mental note of the way Nine purifies the vengeful spirit once it’s calmed down. He’s always gentle when he talks to them, using his relaxing aura to coax them into tranquility. Theo would’ve preferred to crush it beneath his unmerciful heel, but the problem has been solved. There’s no use fretting over it now. Though it will definitely keep him awake tonight.

“Manager!” He jogs over to them, dropping down to inspect their wounds. “Take this to stop the bleeding. I’ll help you.” Unfastening his cape, he passes it to the manager, who holds it against the bloody laceration while he searches for a proper healing spell.

“Thank you, Theo,” (Name) says, wincing at the stinging sensation. “That spirit really put up a fight. Thanks for coming to my aid, Nine.”

“No need to thank me, Manager. I’m relieved you’ll be okay. Mr. Theo will have you healed in no time.”

Theo grits his teeth before facing Nine. He wants this unworthy hemlock out of his special garden. “Could you gather the others? Let them know that we’re finished over here.”

“Very well. Are you sure you don’t need my help?”

“No.” It comes out way too stern, and Theo’s quick to correct himself. “No thank you. We’ll be fine.”

He doesn’t spare Nine another glance as he departs, focusing on the manager’s pained expression with sympathy. They’re in his arms now, grasping at him for salvation. The situation couldn’t be anymore perfect.

“That was crazy, wasn’t it?” they ask, making light of the previous events. “My heart is still racing!”

“I...was so worried, Manager.”

They let out a wheezing chuckle. “Thank goodness Nine was there. If it weren’t for him, I could’ve gotten killed. It’s scary to think about.”

“Yeah. Terrifying,” he echoes while casting the healing spell on them. Surely there’s a curse that brings misfortune. Theo wants to do everything he can to master every negative incantation there is. Just for future reference. There are so many possibilities when it comes to his rivals. He’ll have a field day debating which is the most effective. “You’ve got to be more careful. If you ever find yourself in trouble, just come to me. I’ll always be here to help you.”

They smile, sitting up on their own accord and feeling for any wounds that might’ve escaped the cleansing powers of Theo’s magic. Every cut is sealed and every bruise is gone, leaving the manager with a feeling of rejuvenation. At once, they recognize the plush fabric of Theo’s cape and gasp, noticing just how much blood has stained the white cloth.

“I’m sorry for making such a mess. I’ll wash this as soon as we get back.”

Theo eyes the color with disdain. How utterly cliché. It’s almost sickening. Red on white is too bold—too deep of an implication. Red is a color that means many things, two of that being passion and love. A third is the color of blood. And white is meant to symbolize purity. Theo knows he’ll have to work hard so that the manager’s purity doesn’t bleed out onto the sterile white of this corrupt world. There’s no way he’ll ever let that happen. When he stares at his cape, drenched in splotchy crimson, he sees more than just a soiled piece of fabric. He sees the darkest imprint of (Name). But blood is still messy, even if it is his beloved’s.

Theo wonders which cleaning agent is best for erasing blood. His thoughts spiral deeper and deeper into a rabbit hole of wickedness. Mortality is fragile, and cake and blood are no different. Both are victims of inescapable chance. On the other hand, immortality is a curse that binds him to the one he’d rather be far away from. Speak of the hemlock, who has completed the command with diligence. Nine approaches with the others in tow, all of whom crowd the manager like insects. Theo wishes to spend a moment longer with them. Just a few more minutes. There’s so much I want to tell you. He’s bound to this silver-lined rivalry, a prisoner of obsession. And Nine has no idea.

He supposes that’s how poison works. It doesn’t take long until it spreads within its victim, who is unaware as it shuts down vital organs and flatlines their functions. If Theo has to cut the strings that tie him to Nine and anyone else who dares get in the way of him and the manager, he’ll do whatever it takes. Like poison, it’s small and deadly. Poison might not kill an immortal Soul Reaper, but that has nothing to do with their mentality. Cake might be the same when it comes to ingredients and presentation, but it’s the baker who’s most important. A cracked baker is easy to exploit. He’s even easier to tear apart when he’s alone and basking in his own corrosive thoughts.

The oleander festers at the manager’s side, a quiet flower waiting for an opportunity to infect everyone with debilitating poison.

------

Nine has begun to notice a pattern. It’s tiny at first—like a minor inconsistency that isn’t worth the trouble. But then it becomes a prominent itch that looms in the back of his mind like a shadow. Since that mission, Theo’s been hanging around the manager as if he expects another near-death experience to happen, which shouldn’t be much of a worry. Although (Name)’s mortality is concerning, Nine knows the Reapers in the 14th Department would never let any fatal harm befall their precious manager. So why is there a strange feeling that overwhelms him whenever he spots Theo trailing after them, holding files or a bento he made specifically for them? Anyone with half of a brain would assume he’s playing favorites, attempting to get on the manager’s good side so that the punishment for skipping out on work is lighter. Though Theo doesn’t seem like the type to slack off, which is why Nine is sinking in a state of perplexion.

What is he trying to achieve? Realistically, what is there to gain other than (Name)’s approval? They like each and every one of the Reapers, so it’s not like anyone’s on their bad side. He has an eternity to figure it out, though Nine can’t exactly be bothered. If it isn’t hurting anyone, why should he fret over Theo’s behavior? It’s not as though he’s acting out of line. Rather, he’s been quite pleasant. He even offered to assist Nine in moving a few boxes. Nine doesn’t want to hold any suspicions about his colleague, nor does he want paranoia gnawing on his ankles like a puppy.

Without realizing it, he’s been aimlessly walking through the campus as he pieces together fragmented thoughts. His eyes land on the manager, who is alone as they stride towards him. For once, Theo isn’t at their beck and call. Nine thinks of Day and his unwavering loyalty. Perhaps Theo is just as enthused about (Name) as Day is with him. Nine shrugs those comparisons away, opting to focus on his manager.

“Hi, Nine! What’re you doing out here?”

“Taking a small stroll,” he answers. “The weather is perfect for this, and it’s always beneficial to get some exercise.”

“I agree. To be honest, I wanted to clear my head for a bit. I’ve got so much work that it’s beginning to stress me out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Manager. Would you like any help?”

“I don’t want to bother you.” They wave their hand through the air as if the distress isn’t clear enough. It’s obvious they’ve been pulling all-nighters just to get through paperwork and other tasks. “Would you mind if we walked together?”

Nine considers their offer for a moment. While he would prefer a few more moments to himself, he can’t deny someone as caring as (Name). It’s almost a crime to turn them down, and he has no idea where all of this fondness is suddenly coming from. Regardless, there’s a sneaking sensation that touches his sixth sense. Since when did the flowers have eyes? The wind rustles through the greenery, creating an eerie sound that settles in the courtyard. He’s compelled to retrace his steps and turn down the corridor, but your patient expression chases that idea away.

“I don’t mind.” He falls into step with you, calmly observing the deliberate clicking of your shoes. “Take care not to overwork yourself. The 14th Department depends on your leadership.”

At least a few Reapers are more than dependent, he thinks.

“I’ll be fine as long as I can finish everything on time. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Make sure you’re getting enough rest and eating your meals—“

“I know,” they say, drawing out the syllables. “I appreciate your concern, Nine. It means a lot.”

He nods, a simple gesture that confirms his gratitude. His manager is always thanking and praising the others. Briefly, he wonders if they’ve ever taken time to care for their own well-being rather than the well-beings of the Soul Reapers.

“When all of this is over, I’d love to spend more time with you,” (Name) goes on, a bounce in their step. Nine doesn’t miss the excitement that flashes through their features at the prospect of getting to bond with him. He’d rather be alone, but Nine has found it to be a challenge whenever they’re involved. “Do you think you could teach me to play an instrument? I’ve been meaning to pick something up, but I never seem to have time.”

Well, Nine happens to be skilled with his hands. And hands are required to play most—if not all—instruments. Perhaps you’d like to learn the violin, or maybe you’re interested in the drums. He’ll have to learn as he goes with those, but it’s worth it if it means (Name) will be happy. How odd. Where did all of this compassion come from? Nine knows what instrument they’ll say, as the two of them have sat in the storage room and played it on plenty of occasions. The atmosphere doesn’t change, but the flowers certainly do. As if wanting to blot out a horrid memory, the eyes close and a mouth creases into a tight line. Nothing short of disappointment.

“I was thinking I could be good at the piano if I tried hard enough. What do you think? We can play together, and we can even form a band.”

A band consisting of two people is hardly a band. Handcuffs can only restrict one person. A pair of unseeing eyes are useless, and Nine knows his words must be chosen carefully lest his tongue sit on a rusted tray.

He puts on a thin smile. “Learning an instrument can be just as stressful as work. I wouldn’t want to jeopardize your health.”

“I’ll be fine, but you do make a good point. It might be overwhelming if I try to balance that and missions. One of these days I’ll try to learn.”

Just not now.

And he couldn’t be any more relieved.

------

Nine finds himself in the common room later that evening, reflecting over the events of the day when he encounters the blooming oleander. He’s preoccupied with the book in his hands, which is a collection of stories written by the famous Edgar Allan Poe. He never intended to pick up something so macabre. It happened to be the first thing he grabbed while perusing the shelves. Perhaps he should’ve looked for a poetry book instead. Before he can get up and complete that task, Theo enters his visage, the corners of his lips upturned. It fails to reach his eyes.

“Good evening, Nine. I didn’t expect to find you here. This is a wonderful surprise nonetheless.” He says a greeting that’s reminiscent of Nine’s, which has been tailored ingeniously. Recycled words are only worthwhile if they’re put to positive use, and Theo bleeds venom. He has no reason to speak to Nine. In fact, he’d rather avoid him at all costs, but that won’t work if he intends to poison his fragile mind with every bit of sly kindness he can muster. Theo has learned to be resourceful. A talented baker knows how to improvise, after all. “Oh, I recognize that cover. It’s an anthology of Edgar Allan Poe’s short stories. Which one are you reading?”

Nine glances at the page, picking out notable phrases. He’s at the part where the old man is smothered by his own bedsheets. “‘The Tell-Tale Heart.’”

“That’s grim, isn’t it? Well, all of his stories are, but that one in particular is really morbid.” Theo sits beside him on the sofa, keeping a gap between him and the weed that is Nine. “Wouldn’t it be scary if you woke up to someone trying to kill you? I know I’d be alarmed. But we’ve already experienced death, so maybe it’s not frightening anymore.”

He tries to understand the motive behind Theo’s incessant chatter. The two of them have never really clicked. Small talk isn’t something they can fall into so easily. Nine wants to ask Theo many things, but it’s wrong to suspect someone without any evidence. So he merely nods as he listens to Theo, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave. It’s not as if Nine doesn’t want to talk; he’s just not accustomed to this facet of the Day Reaper. Lo and behold, the question slips out before he can stop himself.

“What would you do?”

“Excuse me?”

“If you were one of the investigators, what would be your reaction to the man?”

“Oh,” Theo states, pursing his lips as if the inquiry requires deep thought. “We know that the narrator is unreliable. He only wants to kill the old man because of his eyes. He gets paranoid when he hears the man’s heartbeat coming from the floorboards, even after he dismembered his body. I’m sure anyone, investigator or not, would think he’s insane.”

“Do you think that?”

Theo bristles at the question, a sour taste coating his tongue. Why is he suddenly being interrogated by Nine? This isn’t an interview, and it certainly isn’t a questionnaire for a criminal. He laughs to cover up the crack in his mask. “Of course I do. No one of sound mind would murder someone defenseless all because of the way their eyes looked. Just saying it out loud like this is madness.”

Nine nods again. Insanity cannot exist without sanity. A heart cannot function without a beat. A parasite cannot live without a host. He’s not sure where this conversation is going. This is far from a cheery book club meeting. Nine searches every inch of his expression, noting the occasional twitch of his mouth and the constriction of his pupils. Yet he can’t detect an ounce of a practiced lie. Could it be that his instincts are misplaced? Is this what Theo has wanted all along: A moment to talk to Nine as friends rather than coworkers? Perhaps he has been incorrect in his judgement.

The book shuts; Nine doesn’t want to read anymore. There’s an unfinished composition waiting for him in his dorm room. Standing up from the couch, he lowers his head in the form of a farewell. He sets the novel on the coffee table so that Theo can indulge in the fictional world of Poe.

“I’m afraid something has come up, so I’ll be leaving now. Please enjoy the remainder of your evening, Mr. Theo.”

“I will.” Theo beams. “Sleep well.”

Nine doesn’t waste a second turning his back on Theo, exiting the common room with graceful movements. As soon as he’s out of sight, the happy grin melts away and is replaced with that of a dark scowl. He’s not a mindless fool. It was obvious that Nine was uncomfortable. He’s just too polite to say anything, and that’s a weakness Theo’s willing to dissect.

So you were reading Poe, hm? he muses to himself, picking up the book and turning it over in his hands. I took you for a poetry guy. How chilling, Nine. Manager wouldn’t like these grotesque tales.

Who is he to determine what they like and dislike? Theo’s watched (Name) for quite some time now, committing their quirky habits to memory. It’s almost comical how they never seem to notice. Nine does, but he’s always been keen, and yet he can never understand the meaning behind his constant staring. That’ll happen when you spend your days alone, keeping yourself entertained with the voice inside your head. Theo wonders if Nine gets lonely with that depressing lifestyle. The two of them are like night and day. Theo’s bright and blinding like the sun. Nine is quiet and calm like the moon. But there isn’t any oxygen on the moon, and the sun can steal a person’s eyesight without feeling any remorse. Two Reapers of complete opposites, rising and setting all the same. A weed and a flower masquerading in a game of cat and mouse.

Oleander grows to towering heights. A stalker’s presence looms as tall as the very flower Theo embodies. He doesn’t care if he’s a leech or a misleading flower. Anything’s better than hemlock and the imposter cake Nine’s baking. Theo’s the baker and the pianist, not Nine. It will never be Nine. He’ll make sure of that. At his very core, Nine is a jawbreaker of many emotions and memories. Theo will fracture every layer until nothing’s left. Until the ground is a mess of colors and stories that unfold before the entire 14th Department. He’ll dig into Nine’s mind with a knife and fork to pull apart stringy recollections of his past life. It’s guaranteed to be a dessert far tastier than a slice of cake.

Poison ivy is easy to identify. As the saying goes, ‘leaves of three, let it be.’ Theo isn’t as obvious as a sickening rash. That’s the difference between ivy and oleander. One kills and the other spreads with red irritation. While he could sit and wallow in bitter annoyance, he’d rather get to memorizing every hateful hex in his spell book. Maybe he can trick Ell into making him a felt doll of Nine. Oh, the thrill of voodoo. Theo’s never performed such dark magic before, but it wouldn’t hurt to try. He’d like to see Nine lose his mind for a change, because eternity knows Theo’s lost his.

The manager deserves only the prettiest of flowers, and oleander has such a gripping, virulent embrace.

#afterl!fe #after l!fe #afterl!fe theo #afterl!fe nine #oneshot #yandere themes #yandere afterl!fe x reader #yandere afterl!fe #yandere theo #afterl!fe x reader #afterl!fe theo x reader #yandere theo x reader #nine x reader #afterl!fe nine x reader #afterl!fe the sacred kaleidoscope

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recurring-polynya · 4 years ago

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What are your thoughts on Bazz-B? He and Renji seemed to have developed a good rapport and I feel that they would’ve been good frenemies had be survived. I can imagine them exchanging fashion tips which would have interesting results!

I imagine that in another universe, they could have been friends, but I feel like the fact that Bazz grievously injured/ambiguously killed one of Renji’s best friends would put a big damper on that.

I really, really, really do not like the Sternritters. I don’t even like them as villains. Out of them, Bazz is probably the least objectionable, but I still don’t like him.

Here are a few thoughts on why, but I’m gonna put them under a cut, because that’s my policy when I say critical things about characters. If you like the Sternritters, I’m glad for you and please feel free to skip the rest of this post!

One of the major themes of Bleach has always been about moral ambiguity, that people are rarely pure heroes or villains. In the earliest episodes, Rukia warns Ichigo to kill Hollows from behind, to never try to glimpse the person they once were, advice that Ichigo roundly rejects as he’s constant turns enemies into friends/allies. This works really well at the beginning of the series and... less well each time we got through this.

My understanding is that Kubo’s original plan for Bleach ended after the Soul Society Arc, and that makes sense to me, because it seems so well plotted out to me, and then the subsequent arcs just seems to try to be recapturing the magic. The thing that is coolest to me about this arc is that the shinigami characters have real depth, and that our initial impressions of them are insufficient. The Gotei is going through an existential crisis, where an injustice (Rukia’s execution) is being prosecuted, and in addition, Aizen has laid a groundwork of mistrust and misinformation. You have characters like Renji, Kira, and Hinamori, who are torn between their orders and deep personal feelings. You have bystanders like Hisagi and Komamura, who don’t really have skin in the game, but feel a sense of unease about the way things are going. You have characters who seem sympathetic-- when Aizen comforts Hinamori that Renji won’t be fired, and the fact that Tousen seems to be someone who would be on the side of justice if only he had the full story, that turn out to be disingenuous. Then you have characters like Kenpachi, who, at least in the second half of the arc, is on Ichigo’s side, but not really for any noble reason, just because he likes Ichigo and also he wants an excuse to fight other captains. There’s Kurotsuchi, who is nominally on the side of the good guys, but is not, in fact, a good person. By the end of the arc, I feel like Kubo has done a really good job of presenting a diverse group of people who live in a flawed system and who were played by someone who took advantage of that. I have no objection at all to the idea that Ichigo considers many of the shinigami his friends afterward, including a very strong friendship with Renji, who is presented as a villain initially.

The Arrancar arc, is more of a mixed bag for me. I still think it mostly works. Arrancar are not humans. They follow Aizen, but in some ways, they are also his victims-- post-Arc, I don’t find myself begrudging any of the surviving Espada for having gone along with him. They are Hollows, and they come from a life of violence and anger and brutality. They have risen above that, which means different things to the various Espada. Harribel, Starkk and Nel are all sympathetic, even tragic characters. Nnoitra and Szyalapollo are monstrous, but in the way that terrible humans are monstrous. Grimmjow is an interesting character, because he falls somewhere in the middle.

I read a fair amount of GrimmIchi fic, because a) it often features Renruki as a side ship and b) there are a lot of really, really talented GrimmIchi writers, but I do not love the ship for it’s own sake, and it’s mainly for one reason: Grimmjow purposely hurt Ichigo’s friends in front of him, and I do not think that’s a thing Ichigo would take lightly. Now, one of the things that make GrimmIchi writers so good is that they are often willing to do the heavy lifting of examining Grimmjow’s brutality, and way Ichigo views the Hollow within himself (for some people, this is even one of the attractions of the pairing). We get a lot of canon scenes with Grimmjow in various situations-- when he backtalks Aizen, when he “rescues” Orihime from Loly and Menoly, when he tries to get her to heal Ichigo just so he can fight him again, when we see him willing to fight his fellow Espada. He’s a meaty character and there’s a lot to dig into. I would still, someday, like to see Ichigo say, “Hey Grimmjow, y’know, you badly hurt my friend Rukia and it messed me up a bunch and I am having trouble getting over it,” and for Grimmjow to have to deal with that. (Polynya, you say, didn’t Rukia kill one of Grimmjow’s Fraccion like 5 minutes earlier? Yes, she did, and whether Grimmjow would respond with “yeah, well, Rukia killed my friend and it hurt my feelings too!” vs. “yeah, well, Rukia killed my friend and you don’t see me crying about it!” are both really interesting ways you could take this)

ANYWAY, getting back to the Quincy. From our earliest introduction to Uryuu in the series, we know that Quincy ought to have a legitimate beef with Soul Society. For starters, there is their underlying philosophical difference: Quincy don’t think that the shinigami do enough to protect the Living World, and they have taken matters into their own hands. They want to see Hollows annihilated, rather than purified. Then, on top of that, the shinigami eradicated their people, and treated them like lab rats. You could spin a lot of gold out of this, but instead, we got the Thousand Year Blood War Arc.

The Quincy are, basically humans with powers, and yet they are extremely bloodthirsty and cruel. We see Bambietta killing people to blow off steam, they take glee in killing lesser opponents (both Hollow and shinigami), As Nodt tortures Byakuya rather than just killing him cleanly, Giselle takes over Bambietta’s body in a horrifying way. Yhwach chastises Yamamoto for having “gone soft”, and says “you used to be cooler when you were a murderer.” The Vandenreich isn’t about justice or improving the system, it’s just about revenge and power and proving racial superiority. Are y’all ready for the hottest take I have ever had? Here it is: The Bount Arc, which is bad and should feel bad, provided a more well-characterized and relatable set of villains than the Thousand Year Blood War Arc.

I mentioned earlier that out of all the Sternritter, Bazz is the best of a bad lot. He gets some good flashbacks and his story evokes both Renji and Rukia’s childhood relationship as well as Gin and Rangiku’s. He's shown hating Yhwach in his youth, but then it’s never really followed up on. Nothing about this works to make me like Bazz, though, it just makes me feel like Yhwach is terrible, a person who ruins lives in both big and small ways.

I honestly hate the scenes where Bazz and Renji banter. Up until this point of the story arc, we have been slammed over and over with how much worse the Quincy are than previous villains. They cause massive destruction, they maim and kill beloved characters. Then, halfway through the arc, Kubo suddenly tries to start walking this back. Byakuya and Kenpachi were supposed to never fight again, but, uhhhh, Byakuya got healed in the Royal Realm and Kenpachi... got better? Look, we fixed Kira! Mayuri brings everyone back as zombies, that’s cool? Let’s have some banter, ha ha, the Quincy are fun! I don’t want to blame Kubo on this because he wasn’t feeling well and also, all of this smacks of editorial pressure, but it doesn’t sit well with me. It seems out of character to me for Renji to joke with someone who has hurt his friends and destroyed his home, and I sometimes justify it in my mind by saying that Renji probably doesn’t know that Bazz was the one who hurt Kira, but in some ways that makes things worse.

To be honest, a much better way to humanize the Quincy would have been to do so through Uryuu. One of the huge flaws of this arc is that there is so little focus on him, the character who ought to tie all this together. Uryuu has been harping for years that shinigami are his enemy and that he’s proud of his heritage. This is literally exactly what he has always says he wanted, and the fact that I, the reader, never believed for a microsecond that his loyalties were divided speaks to how awful the Quincy must be. How did Yhwach first approach Uryuu? It would have been cool to be introduced to the Vandenreich via the narrative device of Uryuu’s introduction. Was anyone nice to him? Do the Quincy have any redeeming value? What if there had been a scene where Bazz-B is goofing around, maybe training with someone, and Uryuu says to himself, “He reminds me of Renji and I hate all of the feelings that are currently in my body”? That would make a cool fanfic, actually, and anyone who wants can have that idea because I will never, ever write fanfic about the Sternritter.

Finally, on a note about fashion, the Sternritter uniforms (along with all their other symbolism) skirts way too close to “Nazi” for my tastes, and one more thing I hate about them is that they have retroactively ruined Uryuu’s aesthetic for me.

#tybwa #sorry i am sure this is not the answer you wanted

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