#Yhwach's Eyes

[the-many-eyed-king]

A discourse of Alucard of Hellsing and Yhwach of Bleach - Main Post

"If I had a nickel for every time I feel for a black-haired, mustached man with powers of many eyes, I'd have two nickels-- which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice. Right?"

This quote is my description...let me explain....this contains spoilers....

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Also, thank you @toxictaicho via this post.

It bloody started this blog...

This is Yhwach...with his two variants.

...this is his ability called the Almighty, okay?

And this is Alucard....with his three variants...

...this is his two ability, okay?

#1: Control Art Restriction System

Main article: Control Art Restriction System

Alucard releasing restriction to Level One

Being too powerful to be left on his own, his power is restricted by the "Control Art Restriction System 《拘束制御術式, Kōsoku Seigyo Jutsushiki》" which has to be accessed by the approval of "Cromwell 《クロムウェル, Kuromuweru》." There are shown to be four levels of restriction and corresponding states, with lower numbers meaning greater levels of power. Alucard can release his power up to Level One by himself, but he needs his master's approval to release his final state—Level Zero, the lowest level, allowing him full access to his most devastating powers. His gloves, which are engraved with the Hellsing seal, are the mechanism and the source of Hellsing's control over him. The psalm "The Bird of Hermes is my name/Eating my wings to make me tame" etched on his coffin is his pledge of loyalty to serve the Hellsing family after his capture. So not only does his coffin serve as his resting place, but it also serves as the promise and contract he made to the Hellsing family. - via Hellsing Wiki

#2 Familiar Control

"Alucard can summon forth anyone's soul he had completely taken over at will. During the battle of London, Alucard released Level Zero, his final restraint, and unleashed all souls that he possessed to roam freely, wiping out the entire Ninth Crusade and almost all of the Last Battalion. He had thousands, if not millions, of familiars, including Tubalcain and Rip Van themselves, culminating and expanding to over three million during the climax. In the end, all of them had been slain, save for one" - via Hellsing Wiki

#2.5 Baskerville

At some point, Alucard defeated and consumed the hound of Baskerville, a demonic black dog. The form and shape in which the hound appeared varied, as it manifested sometimes huge or tiny, bulky or thin. Nonetheless, the hound possessed powerful destructive capabilities. However, Baskerville was swiftly killed by Walter; the control ratio changed, and Luke Valentine emerged from the hound's corpse. - via Hellsing Wiki

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So you see the similarity between them, right?

Which are...

Black hair.

Many eyes on their abilities.

Now add this...

Count Form

Alucard is also capable of appearing as he did during his reign as Vlad Dracula in a form referred to as "Count Version 《伯爵Ver., Hakushaku Version》" in the guidebook. In this form, his general stature is unchanged, save for being perhaps slightly bulkier. His face appears to age from that of a young adult to that of the middle-aged man that he was when he died, and he grows a short, full beard and mustache. His hair also increases in length to his mid-back and becomes wild and unkempt. His attire changes from his usual suit to a full set of gunmetal grey plate armour and a tattered black cape with red inlay and a high collar, closed in by a rope (chains in its initial appearance). He acquires a broadsword, which hangs from one of three belts at his waist. He also appears more reserved and stoic.

- via Hellsing Wiki

Which are...

The mustache.

You kind of who he is....because yes, this is Vlad the Impaler.

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Just extra links:

Yhwach via TvTropes:

Emperor Yhwach

"Conflict is always such a bitter affair."

Species: Quincy

Weapon: Curved sword

Schrift: A - The Almighty

Voiced by: Takayuki Sugo (JP), Richard Epcar (EN)

The Emperor, The King and progenitor of all Quincies. Born over 1,200 years ago.

Ax-Crazy: It is very obvious from the moment we first see him that Yhwach is an immensly dangerous and homicidal individual, with an instinct for killing that is rivaled only by few. For starters, his introductory scene features him blasting off his subordinate's arm just to get his attention. His penchant for wanton brutality is incredibly disturbing, whether it's lobbing limbs across the room or obliterating corpses to make sure they're dead. He will kill even his own men if he can benefit from it, or even just because he can. His cool, calm smile at the sight of his carnage truly compounds that something is quite wrong with this man. While he keeps it hidden most of the time, this aspect of his personality becomes more evident the closer he comes to his goals.

Berserk Button: Yhwach seems very averse to someone telling him about what'll happen in the future, as Eibern fatally discovers when Yhwach asks if the Arrancar is a "prophet." Given the initial loss of the Almighty, it makes sense how he dislikes others treading in what he considers his domain.

Blood Knight: Despite claiming to be a lover of peace, the man literally thrives on warfare and violence. When the Soul Reapers end up getting their Bankai back (besides Zanka no Tachi), Yhwach simply... smiles. It quickly turns into a wide, maniacal grin. Not only did he expect them to regain their Bankai, he was looking forward to it. During his second battle with Ichigo, he could've immediately defeated him using The Almighty, but chose not to because he wanted to personally enjoy the fight for as much as he could, seeing it as some twisted form of "father-son bonding time".

Dark Is Evil: The Quincy have a preference towards cladding themselves in all white. Yhwach stands out among his men due to being the only Quincy who wears dark clothing; in particular, a dark maroon cloak which he wears over his white uniform. It makes him look like he's permanently enclosed in shadow. It is also very fitting with his dark, ruthless nature as a being who thrives on violence and death to prolong his own life. He commits a brutal slaughter on Seireitei with many Soul Reapers, including Captain-Commander Yamamoto, losing their lives. He cares for his men not as people, but rather as fuel sources to extend his life when their use inevitably expires. It's strongly implied that the reason the Quincies' war with the Shinigami is solely his doing, rather than it being a natural thing for the two sides to do. After absorbing Mimihagi and the Soul King, his body becomes shrouded in darkness that oozes around him, and he forgoes all of the Quincy's "holy" attacks in favor of mauling his opponents with globs of dark energy, his form resembling a multi-eyed shadow draped over the form of a man. In the final battle of the series, he is bisected by Ichigo, but uses The Almighty to revive himself as a living mass of darkness that attempts to swallow all of Seireitei in dark Reiatsu.

Even Evil Has Standards: He's an absolute bastard, but even he's baffled and angered by Ichibē's acts.

Eyes Do Not Belong There: Upon completing the absorption of the Soul King, and the Mimihagi the Soul King's Right Hand, his body, and the ground around him, becomes warped by shadow. The top half of his head no longer details either human eyes or even a forehead. Instead, giant malformed eyes of varying sizes cover his face. Eyes also appear across his shoulders and neck. Wherever the shadow touches his body, eyes appear. They even seem to be forming across the ground that is intimately connected to his body via the shadows.

Freudian Excuse: Somewhat in contrast to Aizen, and piece-mealed through the story, but Yhwach does have some reasons as to the way he is despite his horrific deeds. The very last chapter reveals that his ultimate motive was to destroy the current life and death cycle and create a new world where people don't have to live in fear of death, which the anime later expands on; for all of his power in absorbing the souls of other Quincy, said power also comes with the fear of death, which resonates within Yhwach. Learning that the Soul Reapers, led by Ichibei Hyousube, were deliberately responsible for a system that was powered by the man he considers his father, further increased his hatred for the cosmic state of the world and cemented his desire to destroy it. - While implied in Can't Fear Your Own World and We Do Knot Always Love You, Episode 28 of the Thousand Year Blood War reveals that yes, Yhwach always intended a Mercy Kill to the Soul King, partly out of grief for his pitiable state. In fact, not only was he reincarnated into a disabled, feeble, invalid baby (with no other sense but touch), he witnessed his father be willingly sacrificed against his wishes in his youth, when the Soul King performed Irazusando and separated the three worlds eons ago.

Knight Templar: Many millennium prior to the start of the series, the Five Noble Houses committed the Original Sin by creating the Soul King which separated life from death. Yhwach's ultimate goal is to end the Soul King, undo the Original Sin of Soul Society and create a deathless, stagnant world without fear and suffering. How does he intend to do this? By destroying the world and causing enough conflict, so that he will be powerful enough to execute his plans. Yhwach cares nothing for those he kills and destroys along the way, also being fanatically devoted to his own divinity while purging Quincies he deems 'impure' in his quest.

Manly Facial Hair: Following his reawakening from a thousand years of slumber, Yhwach quickly mounts an army to utterly defeat Soul Society, kill Yamamoto through clever deception; Ichigo's massive attack power only shreds a piece of his sleeve, right before Yhwach slams Ichigo down with relative ease. His mustache was impressive enough in the beginning, but as each subsequent appearance leads to darker events and brings him closer to the Soul King, the mustache increases in size and thickness accordingly.

Meaningful Name: Also bordering on Names to Run Away from Really Fast, not only does he appropriate the Judeo-Christian God's name, but in German, Yhwach is a portmanteau of YHVH and Vach, which means "God Is Awake" or "The Awaking God", tying to his omniscient Schrift, the Almighty.

"Not So Different" Remark: He claims Yamamoto, in his younger days, was every bit the ruthless, merciless monster that Yamamoto's accusing him of being. Unohana, who was one of the original captains that Yhwach calls "thugs" discusses with Zaraki how people like her are criminals who were captains instead of prisoners because of their strength. Multiple characters point out just how much Ichigo's impact on Soul Society has softened and changed the old man. Yhwach claims that softening is what allows him to kill Yamamoto; after defeating the Quincies a thousand years ago, the Soul Reapers won the peace: peace gave the Soul Reapers something to fear losing, and so Yamamoto began to soften.

Really 700 Years Old: Although he looks like someone in his forties or fifties, he was alive a thousand years ago, where he looked like a man in his thirties. His exact age is unknown, but he is known to be at least twelve hundred years old (given he was more than two hundred years old before the initial invasion of Soul Society a millennium ago).

Slasher Smile: He flashes a somewhat sedate version when saying farewell to Yamamoto. However, with Ichigo, he doesn't hold back the smile.

The Sociopath: Yhwach is an incredibly ruthless and brutal psychopath who Yamamoto states has no compassion for anyone, not even his own men. Yhwach will not let anyone stand in his way and will cross as many lines as he feels is necessary to accomplish his goals without hesitation. Six years prior to the start of the series, Yhwach strengthens himself by using Auswählen, taking the powers of any Quincies he deemed "impure" or "unnecessary", including children, resulting in their deaths, showing no remorse for this act. Yhwach is also quite prone to violence, lopping off the arm of an Arrancar just to get his attention, and kills several Soul Reapers, Arrancar and Quincies alike in a calm and serene manner. When performing Auswählen for a second time on the Sternritter he left behind in Seireitei to revive the Schutzstaffel, Liltotto demands to know what the Sternritter were to him, and Yhwach replies that they are comrades helping him. Yhwach sees nothing wrong with sacrificing his own soldiers to empower himself, and expresses confusion at Ichigo's anger at the death of his mother, who was a victim of the first Auswählen, because in Yhwach's point of view, there is no greater honor than empowering him. He's also quite self-centered, outright stating that everything in the world exists for his taking, and can be pretty sadistic at times.

Villainous Breakdown: During his final fight with Ichigo, Yhwach starts to lose his calm composure, showing signs of stress and rage as he begins to experience unexpected events that he had not foreseen, not helped by Aizen being a thorn he can't seem to get rid of at first. Never having been able to understand Uryu's abilities, he begins to scream when Uryu's arrow temporarily disables his powers. It goes into full-swing when he realizes Haschwalth had disguised one of his future visions as a nightmare, ensuring that the one vision Yhwach did receive was ignored as a dream.

While Alucard via TvTropes:

Extremely powerful, to the point where it's more accurate to categorize him as a force of nature rather than a "being", Alucard is a vampire who is well over 400 years old.

Alucard 

"It takes a man to kill a monster."

Voiced by: Joji Nakata (JP), Crispin Freeman (EN), Eric Peter (FR), Tasio Alonso (SP)

Voiced by: Joji Nakata (JP), Crispin Freeman (EN), Antoine Tomé (FR)

Anti-Hero: A psychopathic Blood Knight who lives to fight and kill, Alucard is at least pro-humanity and will fight off the greater threat of Millennium.

Ax-Crazy: Alucard relishes not only the chance for a good fight but also displays disturbing fixation with the actual act of killing people, as emphasized by his maniacal Slasher Smiles and cackling.

Berserk Button: Insulting Integra will result in a rather homicidal moment or two.

Blood Knight: He just loves to fight all kind of enemies. The harder it is, the more fun it'll be. Alucard looks positively ecstatic every time Anderson shows up, and ripping apart enemies always puts him a good mood. Alucard: Neither of us could ever back down in front of an enemy. Come on then, Judas Priest!

Dark Is Not Evil: He functions as this through his loyalty to the Hellsing Organization and his willingness to fight beings even more evil than him.

Even Evil Has Standards: He tells a pair of teenage vampires that the way they kill innocent people for no reason just shows how pathetic and disgusting they actually are, and that's the reason why they should be wasted. - Alucard believes that only a human can defeat him, which is why he considers Anderson to be his greatest rival. Thus, when Anderson uses Helena's Nail to give himself a boost that he feels is necessary to defeat Alucard, not only is Alucard pissed, he's saddened to the point of crying. - He also has no respect whatsoever for traitors. And makes that displeasure known during his battle with a vampirized Walter. - While somewhat downplayed compared to the other examples, Alucard doesn't think very highly of Nazis, either. While reminiscing of their World War II days with Walter, Alucard took special glee in killing every Nazi he could find. The only exception is The Major, whose unbridled and absolute commitment to over-the-top batshit insanity Alucard finds impressive.

Extra Eyes: Alucard develops tons of these during transformations.

Eyes Do Not Belong There: Eyes do not go in the chest! Or in shadowy tentacles! Or... any way Alucard uses them, really.

Freudian Excuse: When Alucard was a human child, his father sold him off as a political hostage to the Ottoman court, where he suffered sexual abuse. It's all but outright stated that taking revenge for this is what jumpstarted the dark path he chose to walk down in life.

Historical Beauty Upgrade: The real-life Vlad III Tepes was not a pretty man. In here, not so much — he's downright swagger. Justified with A Form You Are Comfortable With. Even in the original "Dracula" novel, he was described as creepy-looking even when more youthful. While he could shapeshift into a more attractive form, he didn't do it often. In this, he's always portrayed as being quite handsome, even in flashbacks.

Historical Villain Upgrade: Vlad Tepes III was not what anyone would call The Good King, but he wasn't an Eldritch Abomination who'd consumed the souls of hundreds of thousands of people.

Knight Templar: He used to be one, a long time ago.

Manly Facial Hair: When Alucard releases all the restraints, he actually looks somewhat like Vlad Tepes, including the moustache. It's not quite as impressive as the one in the famous portrait, but it would be much harder to take him seriously if it was.

"Not So Different" Remark: Alucard admits he and the Major are alike in Volume 4 as "incorrigible warmongers." "We ruin the countries we govern and the people in our care. We slaughter our enemies and sacrifice all our allies. We'll keep killing until there is nothing left but to destroy ourselves. It will never be enough. We are incorrigible warmongers, aren't we, Major?" - But unlike the Major, Alucard shows genuine remorse and tears up when he recalls what he lost in past battles. His comparison with Anderson in Volume 9 is more accurate.

Slasher Smile: Full of fangs. He doesn't smile in his true Dracula form, though.

Sociopathic Hero: Alucard was already a bloodthirsty monster before he became a vampire. The vampire thing just made him worse, though Integra and the Hellsing Organization thankfully make sure he's pointed at the right targets.

Villainous Breakdown: Oh, he doesn't suffer one. He causes them. Until Anderson's death. That said, it was much more of a Tear Jerker moment than anything, but regardless, he still did break down in tears. Hell, Alucard even gave him a genuine smile and respectful "Amen" right after he passed away.

Anti-Hero: A psychopathic Blood Knight who lives to fight and kill, Alucard is at least pro-humanity and will fight off the greater threat of Millennium.

Ax-Crazy: Alucard relishes not only the chance for a good fight but also displays disturbing fixation with the actual act of killing people, as emphasized by his maniacal Slasher Smiles and cackling.

Berserk Button: Insulting Integra will result in a rather homicidal moment or two.

Blood Knight: He just loves to fight all kind of enemies. The harder it is, the more fun it'll be. Alucard looks positively ecstatic every time Anderson shows up, and ripping apart enemies always puts him a good mood. Alucard: Neither of us could ever back down in front of an enemy. Come on then, Judas Priest!

Dark Is Not Evil: He functions as this through his loyalty to the Hellsing Organization and his willingness to fight beings even more evil than him.

Even Evil Has Standards: He tells a pair of teenage vampires that the way they kill innocent people for no reason just shows how pathetic and disgusting they actually are, and that's the reason why they should be wasted. - Alucard believes that only a human can defeat him, which is why he considers Anderson to be his greatest rival. Thus, when Anderson uses Helena's Nail to give himself a boost that he feels is necessary to defeat Alucard, not only is Alucard pissed, he's saddened to the point of crying. - He also has no respect whatsoever for traitors. And makes that displeasure known during his battle with a vampirized Walter. - While somewhat downplayed compared to the other examples, Alucard doesn't think very highly of Nazis, either. While reminiscing of their World War II days with Walter, Alucard took special glee in killing every Nazi he could find. The only exception is The Major, whose unbridled and absolute commitment to over-the-top batshit insanity Alucard finds impressive.

Extra Eyes: Alucard develops tons of these during transformations.

Eyes Do Not Belong There: Eyes do not go in the chest! Or in shadowy tentacles! Or... any way Alucard uses them, really.

Freudian Excuse: When Alucard was a human child, his father sold him off as a political hostage to the Ottoman court, where he suffered sexual abuse. It's all but outright stated that taking revenge for this is what jumpstarted the dark path he chose to walk down in life.

Historical Beauty Upgrade: The real-life Vlad III Tepes was not a pretty man. In here, not so much — he's downright swagger. Justified with A Form You Are Comfortable With. Even in the original "Dracula" novel, he was described as creepy-looking even when more youthful. While he could shapeshift into a more attractive form, he didn't do it often. In this, he's always portrayed as being quite handsome, even in flashbacks.

Historical Villain Upgrade: Vlad Tepes III was not what anyone would call The Good King, but he wasn't an Eldritch Abomination who'd consumed the souls of hundreds of thousands of people.

Knight Templar: He used to be one, a long time ago.

Manly Facial Hair: When Alucard releases all the restraints, he actually looks somewhat like Vlad Tepes, including the moustache. It's not quite as impressive as the one in the famous portrait, but it would be much harder to take him seriously if it was.

"Not So Different" Remark: Alucard admits he and the Major are alike in Volume 4 as "incorrigible warmongers." "We ruin the countries we govern and the people in our care. We slaughter our enemies and sacrifice all our allies. We'll keep killing until there is nothing left but to destroy ourselves. It will never be enough. We are incorrigible warmongers, aren't we, Major?" - But unlike the Major, Alucard shows genuine remorse and tears up when he recalls what he lost in past battles. His comparison with Anderson in Volume 9 is more accurate.

Slasher Smile: Full of fangs. He doesn't smile in his true Dracula form, though.

Sociopathic Hero: Alucard was already a bloodthirsty monster before he became a vampire. The vampire thing just made him worse, though Integra and the Hellsing Organization thankfully make sure he's pointed at the right targets.

Villainous Breakdown: Oh, he doesn't suffer one. He causes them. Until Anderson's death. That said, it was much more of a Tear Jerker moment than anything, but regardless, he still did break down in tears. Hell, Alucard even gave him a genuine smile and respectful "Amen" right after he passed away.

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You can see they have similar tropes so...

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Also this post...

WHO WORE THE MUSTACHE BETTER?

Alucard VS Yhwach

Note from link:

ROUND 1:

Pre-Schrödinger Alucard VS Yhwach Strongest Key (Very evident outcome just curious to see how it plays out)

Both in character

ROUND 2:

Post-Schrödinger Alucard VS Yhwach (should I equalize speed here?)

Also in character

Also this post...

Was Anyone Reminded of Hellsing in that Last Panel?

In the final page of this chapter, Ywach was surrounded by a mass of swirling darkness, with countless eyes in various places. That image reminded me of Alucard from Hellsing, who often would disvvole his body into darkness with countless eyes.

I wonder if Kubo is taking inspiration from Hellsing in this instance (as a side note, I believed that Joji Nakata, the voice actor for Alucard, would have been perfect for Ywach before it was revealed that Yhwach and Zangetsu are the same person)? What does everyone say about this? Were you reminded of Hellsing in that last panel?

with someone remarking:

multiple similarities between Yhwach and Alucard.

- Yhwach resembles Vladcard

- Yhwach absorbing others to extend his own life is similar to how Alucard takes in souls from blood to extend his.

Side note: Zangestu is part of the main character's powers.

The old man whom Ichigo Kurosaki acknowledged as Zangetsu (斬月) is the manifested spirit of Ichigo Kurosaki's Quincy powers that can be found inside Ichigo's inner world. As noted by Ōetsu Nimaiya, Zangetsu heavily resembles Yhwach's appearance from 1,000 years ago; similarly, Tensa Zangetsu looks like Yhwach when he was in his teenage years. - via Bleach Fandom wiki

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Last but not least for the fun of it... some anime raps and other videos on each character:

[the-many-eyed-king]

Please...SMASH!!

Yhwach (Bleach)

[troius]

[distinguishedshoeduckdonut]

The Almighty

[bleach-smashorpass]

[dangaii]

Six Eyes

[kuroimibojin]

distant flickerings , greener scenery this weather's bringing it all back again great adventures , faces & condensation i'm going outside to take it all in you say too late to start , got your heart in a headlock i don't believe any of it you say too late to start , with your heart in a headlock you know you're better than this i'm walking , you've been hiding & you look half dead half the time monitoring you , like machines do you've still got it , i'm just keeping an eye i've been walking , you've been hiding & you look half dead half the time monitoring you , like machines do you've still got it , I'm just keeping an eye you know you're better than this

YHWASHU EDIT FOR @almightys

[1stritter]

unfortunately i refuse to believe that the wandenreich's most prized, very beautiful, solemn, authoritative, glaringly SINGLE first knight of god wasn't everyone's dream date

[yhw4ch]

despite being fully aware of and acknowledging how diametrically different they are, yhwach holds aizen in high regard

[doomxdriven]

consider: there is great significance to the color red in regards to eyes.

[the-many-eyed-king]

Main Post (Reposted)

A discourse of Alucard of Hellsing and Yhwach of Bleach or why this blog is called "the many-eyed king."

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Part 4: Other links and videos related to both.

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Here are some other links for you.

Contains spoilers and a trigger warning below...(I need help making a list for people...someone message me an edit if you can.)

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This post…

WHO WORE THE MUSTACHE BETTER? Alucard VS Yhwach

Note from link: ROUND 1: Pre-Schrödinger Alucard VS Yhwach Strongest Key (Very evident outcome just curious to see how it plays out) Both in character

ROUND 2: Post-Schrödinger Alucard VS Yhwach (should I equalize speed here?) Also in character

Also this post…

Was Anyone Reminded of Hellsing in that Last Panel?

In the final page of this chapter, Ywach was surrounded by a mass of swirling darkness, with countless eyes in various places. That image reminded me of Alucard from Hellsing, who often would disvvole his body into darkness with countless eyes. I wonder if Kubo is taking inspiration from Hellsing in this instance (as a side note, I believed that Joji Nakata, the voice actor for Alucard, would have been perfect for Ywach before it was revealed that Yhwach and Zangetsu are the same person)? What does everyone say about this? Were you reminded of Hellsing in that last panel?

with someone remarking:

multiple similarities between Yhwach and Alucard.

Yhwach resembles Vladcard

Yhwach absorbing others to extend his own life is similar to how Alucard takes in souls from blood to extend his.

Side note: Zangestu is part of the main character's powers.

The old man whom Ichigo Kurosaki acknowledged as Zangetsu (斬月) is the manifested spirit of Ichigo Kurosaki's Quincy powers that can be found inside Ichigo's inner world. As noted by Ōetsu Nimaiya, Zangetsu heavily resembles Yhwach's appearance from 1,000 years ago; similarly, Tensa Zangetsu looks like Yhwach when he was in his teenage years. - via Bleach Fandom wiki

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Last but not least for the fun of it… some anime raps and other videos on each character:

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Note: Yes, I added Hellsing: Ultimate Abridged. You can look it yourself.

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That completes this post.

[darkspace7]

[That Which Protects The Falling Rain] Pt.1

[A Sort of Synopsis, if you will]: Okay so the other day I was just faffing about and watching some videos discussing some of the Bleach Brave Soul character design choices as you do and then I got to thinking about how there were so few decently good fics featuring our good man Ishida and then that somehow led into wondering why there weren’t hardly any detailing the situations of how one would even come about to wear those alternate costumes in the first place and then that somehow devolved into contemplating time/dimension travel and fusion (as in literal fusion –not crossovers- although those are nice too…) fics and what-ifs involving rather creative semi-roll swaps and we all know that canon is basically just a suggestion at this point so anyway-

Here’s my-

“Through An Exceedingly Convoluted Series Of Events Spanning The Course Of About Roughly Two Weeks Uryū Ishida Gets Yeeted To An Alternate Timeline/Dimension Thing With An Imprint Of Ichigo Camping In His Soul As A Sort-Of Bastardized Zanpakutō And Now He Must Wage In Shadow Espionage Bullshit Because At This Point Aizen Is Still A Problem And Tipping Off The Quincy While Everyone’s Even Weaker Than The Timeline They Left Would Be Bad. (Also Having Two Instances Of The Almighty + Antithesis In The Same General Vicinity Is Apparently Bad For The Continued Existence Of Reality) And Somehow Not Potentially Fuck Everything Else Up Even Worse Than Last Time As Well As Try Not To Have A Complete Nervous Breakdown In The Mean Time.”

-AU…

But that’s kind of a mouthful so imma just call it [That Which Protects The Falling Rain] AU

So yeah…

As you can obviously tell from the prior blurb this is more or less canon divergent starting from the point that Ichigo got his powers back after the timeskip (which –in my completely honest opinion- was a bullshit arc anyway for a number of reasons that I refuse to go into at the moment) with the main kicker of it all being the things that happened with the whole Quincy ordeal went significantly worse off than in canon and basically a bad time was had by everyone.

[Unwind the World and Your Nightmare’s Gone]

Turns out that if you have a crumbling pillar that props up what is an already heavily destabilized world murked on top of everything else tends to accelerate the wholesale destruction of everything in existence. The first of this was quickly realized when Hueco Mundo, the Wandenreich, and the Soul Society all crashed and began to bleed into one another. This mockery of a union only served to further tip the scales to such an extreme that Hell itself –which at this point was still puttering along as the sole remaining pillar of reality- began to develop cracks in the framework before eventually just giving way entirely. And thus things started to bleed indiscriminately into the World of the Living.

Which, I don’t need to tell you, was bad news bears.

In the chaos and calamity people were dying in droves and –because the reincarnation cycle was wholly and utterly fucked- they were staying dead. The very few individuals that had been smart enough to dip when the water hit the wall or were (un)fortunate enough to dodge the first fires of the literal apocalypse managed to bunker down, sustaining themselves on the heavily overly-saturated reishi of the atmosphere as they waited for the inevitable end tailmarked on the hands of the three souls that still carried on. These three –the False King tainted with the spark of divinity, his Heir who sought to put an end to his reign, and the Hybrid who felled God Himself- who fought on even though everything and everyone they had once stood for having fallen ages before them; their hands grasping for that last pyrrhic victory because what else is there at this point?

But –much like the moon for which his blades were named- even the powers of god-slayers must wane and on the field of battle enemies will use any fault to their advantage. And so, with a decisive slice of the blade, the False King went Off With His Head and the prodigal son made his way back home like the rest of his children. But it was here that Yhwach, made a Mistake™.

For all that Ichigo Kurosaki was a hybrid of both Quincy and Soul Reaper, he was also part Hollow as well.

And Hollows are poisonous to Quincy.

But the imprudent ruler was past caring at this point -was confident he could weather the poisoning of his soul- that he just had to stop for a moment to allow the restless stubborn child to settle down and from there he could then adapt and adjust. But to do such a thing on a battlefield where there was still one other active combatant left (no matter how you have dismissed the other boy as being a non-threat at this point) was pure hubris in of itself.

Enter: Uryū Ishida.

Armed with a silver arrow crafted from the bodies of his kinsmen that he lifted from the corpse of his estranged father and the sheer and utter spite of someone who has seen every single last one of their friends and family be killed and subsequently has no more fucks to give decides in his exhausted state to pull an Ichigo and lets the fly.

It hits.

At long last, the Old King was dead.

But it wasn’t enough.

Because the being named Yhwach was a great number of things, however, unprepared was not one of them. Being able to see possibility after possibility was indeed a great boon when it came time to sketch out an action plan for such eventualities. Case in point, when faced with the surefire destruction of your own physical and spiritual being it is perhaps okay to latch on to and borrow another. And what better source than your treasonous Heir not a stone’s throw from where you currently were?

Long live the king.

Or so you thought bitch.

Turns out neither did the Quincy child nor the rebellious echo of the hybrid boy much care for his attempt at bodyjacking. So unanimously they decided to say –fuck that- and pull off their own sort of deus ex machina using Uryū’s Shrift in conjunction with Ichigo’s kind of admittedly bullshit hybridity powers to throw a wrench in things and swap the Fate of not only himself the other late teen’s echo as well so that in the end it was Ywhach who would be the one subsumed.

And by some fucking miracle, it worked.

They successfully managed to topple the Quincy King from his position to allow for Uryū to then supplant himself on the vacant throne as the King as the remainder of Ichigo’s unique spiritual signature securely subsumed the rest of Yhwach’s essence and then somehow used it to stabilize the burgeoning fuckery that was now his (and apparently Ishida’s???) soul.

Long live the King (and his new and only somewhat unwilling headmate) indeed.

Just in time for reality to start falling apart.

With the weight of the final battle having finally given way to bone-deep exhaustion he –(or, rather, was it they now? Truth be told, neither boy was entirely sure what to make of their current situation and the sheer number of existential issues that simply arose from their paradoxical state of being. But then again that sort of thing wasn’t exactly a new thing when it came to his whole impossible existence now was it? Hell, he’d had so many ‘impossibles’ tossed at him that at this point the very word was starting to lose all meaning, honestly. And this current bit of what-the-fuckery was just another layer to the botched clusterfuck of a cake now wasn’t it? ‘…Good god Kurosaki do you think you could save your little existential crisis for later? Neither of us have the energy for it and I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m pretty sure that at least one of us currently has a fucking concussion.’ No, fuck you man, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but the world’s fucking ending. This is a good as time as any, man. ‘I just want somewhere we can get a chance to rest.’)- leveraged their worn body up on unstable legs in search of an unbroken spot where they could do just that.

Sometime along the way he had noted the larger of the orange-haired hybrid’s blades among the debris and stopped to examine it. (Or rather, having sensed the echo of their wielder contained within, it had lowered itself to allow him a chance to look upon its glory. At least, that was the impression that it seemed to be giving off anyway. Yeah, like a pair of stray cats you rescued from out behind the dumpster on trash day, his Zangetsu was. But even to the end they tried to help in their own way… ‘‘Slaying Moon’ huh? What an apt name for such a blade.’ Blades. There’s two of them. Ah, that was right. But if so then where…?)

Even now, their wicked sharp edge gleamed obsidian in the light as he subconsciously let the blade rest behind in the crook of his back. Feeling the small clasp as sword seemed to latch onto his presence as if magnetic. Readjusting his glasses he glanced around and let out a soft noise when their eyes alit upon their prize.

(He did not look at the body sprawled out upon the ground as they knelt down and gently pried the shorter blade from stiff fingers. He did not look at the severed head with too blank eyes as he slid the other half of his blade carefully into the waistband of his belt.He did not look at his own corpse resting at his feet-)

He stood.

Continuing on, he trudged along aimlessly, stumbling from wreck to wreck in an attempt to avoid the ever encroaching void that slowly but surely ate at what was left of their worlds. (They decidedly ignored the shadows that lapped at their feet. The way they danced inexplicably without a clear source of light. Twisting and writhing along the rolling dark as if they were but a thousand –familiar- eyes held back behind closed lids –theirshisoursmine- as they waited there. Dreaming.)

He stumbled.

They walked on until eventually they happened upon a surprisingly stable section of what appeared the Royal Realm and what was even more astonishing was the fact that out of everyone who could’ve somehow managed to dodge the apocalypse they had the misfortune to run into Aizen of all people. And it seemed that the ex-captain was just as enthused to see them.

(Wow, yeah, no. Not surprised that you survived because you’re pretty much a damned cockroach at this point. But I am genuinely kind of surprised that you decided to stick around instead of –I don’t know- having the good sense to bail when everything started going to shit? You’d think he would. Like, scurry away to lick the wounds and that sort of shit, right? ‘Right, absolutely riveting commentary Kurosaki. Such a shame that I’m the only one who’s forced to listen to it.’ Grimace. Urgh what god did I piss off to get stuck with you assholes? ‘Probably the two we just killed.’…Ah. Right.)

“Hm, that’s certainly a pleasant expression.”

(…I wanna kick his fucking ass. ‘What? No!’ Just a single boot shoved right in his smug bondage-wrapped face. ‘No.’)

Thoroughly exasperated and just utterly done with everything and everyone at this point Uryū decided this was as good as they were going to get and sort of collapsed at the foot of the broken throne with an undignified grunt, shifting the massive knife from his back to a more comfortable spot upon his lap as to allow himself to prop their body up against a slab of rubble. The youth let out a groaning-sigh.

Aizen –having meandered over to join him- watched with a keen interest.

(The subtle shade of black bleeding into the much younger man’s sclera, the downright monstrous inferno of tainted Quincy-Reaper-Hollow reiatsu coupled with the unnatural way that the writhing shadows almost seemed to linger protectively around the bloodied child before him, and while truthfully he was rather near-sighted ((destroying his last pair of glasses in a spur of dramatic theatricality had genuinely been one of his sole regrets, especially considering later when it became wholly apparent that the hōgokyu refused to let itself be used for something as banal as correcting one’s eyesight)) he’d have to have been blinder than Kaname to miss the ease at which the other had hefted that particular blade around. Also, the singular horn was kind of conspicuous and worthy enough for him to lift a brow.)

“Your feats never cease to push the realm of possibility, why I’m honestly starting to think you don’t know the meaning of the word Kurosaki.” He watched with sharp eyes, observing how even the shadows surrounding the youth seemed to freeze. Fascinating. “Or perhaps you would prefer some other form of address more suited to the body you’re currently occupying?” A dark eye crinkled with wry amusement, “Maybe even something more befitting to that of royalty?”

 (He’s not going to let this go is he? ‘Ugh, no.’ …Fuck it.)

And so the one-who-was-once-many resigned themself to a litany of awkward conversation as they waited for the world to end.

And what a back and forth it was. Some of the more notable highlights included: In depth discussions on one’s particular choice of eyewear – {“So, wait, hold on. You’re saying you actually needed those glasses and that the whole debacle with the Winter War you were essentially fighting half-blind the whole time?!”

“In the barest sense of the term, yes. Why do you seem so surprised? Did you perhaps forget that one of my compatriots was blind? It is a perfectly reasonable method to use one’s spiritual sense as a sort of complement to innate abilities during combat, as I am sure that one of your newer parts is undoubtedly already aware.”

“…Newer parts?”

“The misguided Quincy child that you once called your comrade and presumably the original owner of the patchwork monstrosity that you now call a form.”

(‘…Okay, yes, while losing your glasses during a fight does fucking suck I’m far-sighted and also mainly focused on archery so it’s not so bad but “patchwork monstrosity?” Rude, much?’)

“My, what a frightening expression.”

They flipped him off.}

–To the eventual reluctant admittance of what had occurred during their final battle versus the late Quincy King-

{it was in general agreement that the whole thing was a collective load of bullshit, however Aizen did find some note of ironic humour in the new fusion’s predicament much to said being’s annoyance.}

–To why the traitorous ex-captain was even there in the first place-

{“And where exactly would you have intended me to have gone, hm?” The man gestured broadly at the wanton destruction that surrounded them.

“Should I have squirrelled myself away like the scarce few remaining beings that tried to do so before everything fell to ruin? Don’t make me laugh. Why, I would even dare to say those poor unfortunate souls have been all but eliminated when the world pillars sang their swan song and even if they managed to survive that don’t you think the void would have consumed them much like everything else at this point?” Sōsuke leveled a dry look, letting his head fall back against the remains of a broken pillar wearily.

“So I figured this was as good as a time as any to try my hand at usurping the throne, you know, seeing as the current Soul King was indisposed.” A flicker of genuine consternation flashed across the man’s face. “But, it seems that crossing into the realm of transcendence is still not enough just so long as you’re still missing a fundamental piece of the equation.”

“Wow. So even after going through all of that you still weren’t –what- Quincy enough to take the crown? Heh, sucks to be you I guess. Wh-hey! We already have a concussion you didn’t have to throw a rock at me you ass.” With a huff, they rubbed at the new welt on their head. “Geez…”

“But seriously, I can’t believe with all that bullshit you pulled trying to get the magic death marble to make you god it couldn’t even manage it in the end.” As the hand dropped to the blade in their lap, they gave a faint scowl and then turned to face the other. “And really, what’d it even matter at this point? Figure we could use it to prop up reality –or at least what’s left of it anyway- and keep it from imploding or something?”

Aizen let out a somewhat undignified snort, “The Quincy have finally brought around your inclinations of royalty, I see. You’ve even started using the royal we. But yeah, sure, why not. Go ahead and take a stab at being the Soul King for a bit, I mean I’d say you can’t possibly be worse that what’s going on right now but somehow I think you would manage it just to spite me.”

The young being let out a snort of his own as they rolled with the bit, “No, we’d totally be an awesome Soul King. Way better than the last one and Not Unstable At All. Heck, we wouldn’t even abuse whatever the bullshit powers we had on top of everything else so we could –I don’t know- turn back time and fucking unmurder everyone. Oh! While we’re at it why don’t we try taking a crack completely unknotting that clusterfuck you guys call a politics around here. Because, honestly? Responding to every new thing that shows up on your doorstep with ‘treat it like shit’ and/or ‘try to kill it with extreme prejudice’ tends to piss people off and is probably why y’all had so many enemies.”

They nodded, sarcasm just oozing from their tone. “Yeah, all of that would be just so fun. Don’t you think?”}

Who could have foreseen that such a benignly one-off comment could have could spurred such further chaos?

(Well they probably could have. But –in their defence- they weren’t exactly firing on all cylinders at the time; what with the existential fuckery that they were still coming to terms with alongside the previously mentioned concussion that made it so when Aizen ((who had went suspiciously quiet after his little haha-funny-but-not-really joke)) proceeded to pitch the Idea™ to them it didn’t really seem to tack on as being anything worse than what the apocalypse that they were already were going through was.

But as now they found themselves trying not to squirm with a hand splayed awkwardly over the violet gem embedded in the other man’s bare chest as the other looked on with what seemed to be deep-set amusement they could not help but think to themselves: they really should’ve known better.)

(‘This is so stupid.’ There’s no way this would ever work-) Astonishingly, the gem beneath their hand began to glow.

(…Are you kidding me?)

“Huh, it seems like the hōgokyu was actually able to grant my wish after all.” The other murmured, ripping the fusion’s attention away from the entrancing glow only for them to watch as the man before them slowly began to crumble to dust before their very eyes.  “Rather roundabout way of doing it though, if you ask me.” Sōsuke snorted, dark eye flicking up to meet the other’s disbelief. “Listen well Ichigo Kurosaki and Uryū Ishida, this will be the last time we meet one another as things are. Don’t squander the opportunity you’ve been given as it’s highly unlikely you will get another one.”

“…Understood.”

“Good.” The other seemed…actually kind of relieved? That was all they had time to think before his body was gone and it was their fingers clutched around the hōgokyu as it then took their wish (to fix this oh god don’t you dare drop something like this on us and then leave us aloneyou utter bastardplease I don’t want to be the last one left after everything I don’t want to be aloneand just like that there went another person that he failed to protect just like everyone elseplease I just want to fix this make it like it never happened!) and moulded it and then unwound the world from its crumbling spool, unwound them, unmade him and now he-

-Was-

F

 a

  l

   l

    i

     n

      g

but only for an instant before world reformed around himself and he was forcefully slammed into (his/their/whose?) body.

He blacked out.

[troius]

ichibe's blank-eyed state he keeps going in and out of is really intimidating, but it also always reminds me of daruma dolls. what do you think? is there some kind of metaphor or symbolism going on here, or is kubo just doing it because it looks really fucking cool?

It's pretty interesting, isn't it? My general rule is that if nobody calls attention to it, it's just a stylistic quirk. I sort of see the daruma doll thing, but I'm honestly not that knowledgeable on the subject. Some of the daruma dolls I've seen do have pupils to their eyes. Maybe somebody who knows more about this can add in.

As far as the aesthetics are concerned though, you're right that it's extremely fucking cool. It's also an extension of something that Kubo has been doing since the beginning of the story, with the strategic use or nonuse of eye contact. Go back chronologically through my Uryu tag and you'll see how Kubo carefully avoided having Uryu make full eye contact with the reader, which creates a sense of unease and mistrust. He does the same with Aizen's early glasses, with Gin's narrowed eyes, with Tosen's various eyewear, even Urahara's hat. Compare these with somebody like Nanao, for instance, who generally has both of her eyes visible despite wearing glasses.

What he's doing here is playing on a common human trait-- we like to see where people are looking. It's reassuring. You can tell (or at least, you thing you can) what a person is thinking about from looking at their eyes. And conversely, you can't do that if you can't see them.

Kubo's takes it up a level with Ichibe, because there isn't anything concealing his eyes. He just has moments where you are looking directly at his face and yet can't see his pupils. And that's far more directly unnerving, not just because we can't see what he's looking at, but because we probably can't see whatever that thing is.

[satsugacafe]

𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐈𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 | (𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞)

➳❥ 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬: Yhwach & Jugram, Askin & Bazz-B, Kisuke & Sosuke, Shunsui and Jushiro

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: I wrote a little more for Shunsui and Jushiro, but I doubt you all would mind. I was originally going to scrap it and turn their part into a full piece…another time. Have a nice smut for the holidays!

➳❥ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fem!reader, smut, double penetration (vag and anal), spit roasting, oral sex (male receiving), rough sex, manhandling, degradation (being called a slut and cum dumpster), asphyxiation, spanking, reader being used for pleasure purposes, pet names (little one, good girl, sweetheart, sweet girl, princess), praising, squirting, creaming, marathon sex, mentions of multiple orgasms

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: Just you having threesomes with different character pairings.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

「 Yhwach & Jugram 」

Yhwach stood in front of you, his cock fully erect and gleaming with your saliva. He pressed it against your lips with no pretense of gentleness, his movements slow but deliberate as he slid it into your mouth. His size stretched your lips wide, the veins along his shaft throbbing against your tongue as you struggled to take him deeper. His hand rested firmly on the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair as he held you in place.

“Look at how well you take the both of us…so pretty,” Yhwach grunted as he thrust his cock in and out your mouth, pushing himself deeper until your nose was pressed against the base of his cock. Holding his position for a few extra seconds, he pulled out and rest the tip of his thick cock against your cheek while you gasped for air. Strings of saliva connected his cock to your lips as you wheezed, doing your best to catch your breath.

However, on the other end, an equal yet opposite force was turning your insides into goo from the constant rough pounding of his cock battering against your walls. Both hands gripping your waist as Jugram guided you along his cock, creating a rhythm so you could match his pace as he plunged his pretty cock deeper with every thrust. You could feel the heavy pat-pat of his balls colliding with your clit each time he pushed himself all the way to the hilt. Your natural reaction was to clench around him, however, it was cut short when Yhwach cupped your cheeks to look up at him.

Your glossy eyes met his red ones, and for a moment, they crossed and rolled into your head when Jugram’s fingers came down to rub your clit. Pinching and teasing the swollen bundle of nerves. “Oh f-fuck! Nghh…god! Right there!” A squeal escaped your lips but was swallowed and turned into a muffled groan when Yhwach pushed his cock past your lips.

“Keep sucking, little one,” Yhwach growled. His tone was sharp, a commanding edge laced with condescension. “Show me how grateful you are to serve us.”

Both of them were in sync as Yhwach matched Jugram’s pace. As Yhwach pushed his cock down your throat, Jugram would pull out, so you were never empty at the same time. Muffled gurgling and moaning, along with the sounds of sweaty skin meeting and praises of how good you were taking their cock like the obedient pet you were, reverberated throughout the room. 

“Just like that…good girl,” Yhwach cooed as he slowed his thrust, taking his time to push himself to the back of your throat before pulling out. “So pretty taking two cocks at the same time. You like that, don’t you? You were made for this.”

“Y-Yes, my king. Please use me to your heart’s desire,” you begged and opened your mouth for his cock to return, tongue sticking out the way he liked.

A satisfying grunt was his response, while Jugram leaned forward, resting his lips by your ear to kiss your lobe and give it a bite. “Such a slut for His Majesty’s cock and mine. You would do well to remember this moment and be grateful,” he muttered before dragging his lips down to the junction of your neck to plant a hickey.

“So tight, so perfect. You were made for this.” His deep, sultry voice was doing more chaos to your mind than you expected. You could feel the way your pussy clenched at every word, oozing more juices to coat his already cum-covered cock, and squeezing him nicely. Sucking him back in to keep hitting that spot repetitively, making your toes curl and your back arch into his touch.

“You’re such a good little thing.”

「 Askin & Bazz-B 」

“Goddamn,” Askin groaned breathlessly, though there was a tinge of amusement. “How does someone this powerful end up with a body like this? It’s criminal, really. You’re gonna kill me in the best way possible. God, you should have come with a warning.”

“Maybe you just don’t have the stamina,” you teased, looking down at him with a smirk. Your voice was playful, but the way your body responded to him betrayed how much you were enjoying his complaints.

“Oh, I have the stamina,” Askin shot back, his grin widening despite the way his jaw clenched from the tight, velvety grip of your walls. “But you—” He groaned as your pussy squeezed him particularly hard, cutting off his words. “You’re built to drive a man insane.”

“Shut up and focus,” Bazz-B growled from behind you, his deep voice straining as his thick, heated cock thrust into your tight ass with relentless want. The force of his movements matched Askin’s erratic rhythm. His fingers were spread over the curve of your lower back as he pulled you back onto him with each thrust, burying himself deeper into the tightness that squeezed him like a vice.

Your body was trapped between them, utterly consumed by the pleasure they were giving you. Every thrust sent waves through you, your moans and cries of pleasure mingling with their grunts and groans. Askin’s cock, slick with your juices and the remnants of his previous releases, stretched your pussy, the friction drove you wild as he pounded into you from underneath. Bazz-B’s cock was just as relentless, filling your ass with an almost overwhelming fullness, his pace rough and demanding as he claimed you.

“You’re fucking insane,” Bazz-B hissed as your pussy clenched around Askin’s cock, leaning to his cock being squeezed as well. “We’re screwing a Shinigami, Askin. Do you even get how messed up this is?”

“You weren’t complaining five minutes ago,” shot back Askin breathlessly from the way your pussy seemed to endlessly suck him back in. You were too much for him to handle. “Besides, it proper to welcome our guest His Majesty spared out of interest. This could be one of the reasons why he spared her—we’re lucky to get first use.”

“Oh, just shut up and fuck me harder,” you moaned.

Askin chuckled under you, his hands sliding up to your chest to give your breasts a squeeze before rolling your nipples between his fingers. “As you wish, darling,” he grinned and gave a particularly harsh thrust and forced your head to fling backwards, colliding against Bazz-B’s shoulder. The rhythm between the three of you became more synchronised, their cocks moving in perfect motion, filling you up completely and leaving you gasping for air.

Your pussy clenched around Askin’s cock, the creamy mixture of his cum and your own juices making every thrust slick and easy as he drove deeper, hitting spots that made your entire body shudder. Bazz-B’s cock stretched your ass, the thickness of him almost too much to handle, but the way he filled you was addictively good, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through you. A hand from him came down to slap your ass, in awe of the recoil and the way it jiggled under his touch.

“Fuck, you’re gonna milk me dry. Your pussy’s too fucking good,” Askin groaned and tossed his head back as your body trembled, teetering on the edge of release. Both their movements grew rougher, more desperate and unrelenting as they chased their orgasms. “I don’t think we could be normal after this. Fuck being a Shinigami, you’ve got to new bodyguards.”

“So much for being Yhwach’s guest—the old man is gonna have to pardon us for taking over if this was his purpose for sparing you,” Bazz-B grunted. “You’re one hell of a distraction, but I’m not complaining.”

“Then don’t hold back,” you breathlessly gasped as you rocked your hips to meet their thrusts. “Fill me up. I want every last drop if I’m going to be stuck here.”

「 Kisuke & Aizen 」

“Just look at her,” Aizen murmured, his voice smooth and condescending. “She takes it so well, doesn’t she, Kisuke? Absolutely desperate to be filled over and over again.”

“She’s a little too good at it,” Kisuke replied, stroking his already-hard cock, still slick with the remnants of your earlier encounter. “It’s almost like she was made for this.”

Your body was in a constant tug-of-war between two powerful masterminds as they manipulated you to their will. You weren’t sure how many positions they had experimented on you, but you were sure that it was far from finished from the glimpses of determination in their eyes.

The strength of Sosuke’s grip around your neck as he pressed your face into the mattress, ploughing into you from behind, left no room for argument. You had to lie there and take his cock as it bullied your insides for the umpteenth time tonight, rearranging you to outdo the renovation that Kisuke’s cock did earlier. You could feel the sheer force of your gummy walls gripping him with abandon want, sucking him back in deeper each time he slid out before his hips harshly collided with your ass.

Sosuke’s fingers were on your clit as he drew strategic patterns to make you sob and drool all over yourself, your out-of-state transcend was cut short by Kisuke’s gentle hands cupping your face to lift your head off the mattress.

“Atta girl. Come on now, open those lips for me. Take me all the way, don’t waste a drop,” he encouraged, and who were you to deny him his request. Obediently, your lips parted, and his cock rested heavily against your tongue, the salty-sweet taste of his precum sent goosebumps down your spine, urging you to clench around Sosuke’s cock.

“You spoil her too much, Kisuke.” Came Sosuke’s voice as he sent a particularly rough thrust to make your jaw slacken around Kisuke’s cock. His grip around your neck was still present, firm but not aggressive as he continued to let the rhythm of his hips send more shivers through your body as you struggled to focus on their cocks. Kisuke being as calm as he was, ignored Sosuke’s comment and simply cupped your jaw to guide your head along his cock, groaning at the warmth.

But Kisuke was anything but gentle in these past hours he’s been fucking you. This was just the warm-up before his grip on your jaw tightened before he held your head still and punish your throat with his cock. Aizen’s thrusts grew rougher, more erratic as if competing for your attention. The force of his hips drove you forward, causing Kisuke’s cock to push deeper into your throat, the sensation making your eyes water. You gagged slightly, the sound muffled around Kisuke’s girth, but he only smirked, holding your head firmly in place.

Balls slapping against your skin, the sounds of your wet, slick pussy squelching against Sosuke’s cock and their derogatory praises filled the air. Tears were streaming down your face from the sheer, overwhelming intensity of being filled in every way. You would feel Sosuke and Kisuke’s cum sloshing around in your pussy as the former pushed it deeper, some spilling out and coating his cock. The heady sensation of a cock being pushed down your throat at a blinding speed while sweet words were being whispered to encourage you to take more, was diabolical.

“You look so pretty like this,” Kisuke praised breathlessly as your throat constricted around him. “Letting us use you to experiment and have fun. You like being filled with our cum, don’t you? Our little cum dumpster…”

A particular slap to your ass from Sosuke and the tightening of his fingers against your neck, applying just enough pressure to earn muffled whines and your pussy clenching made him laugh. “Indeed. Perfect little cum dumpster—of course she enjoys it,” he stated confidently. “Don’t you sweetheart?”

Looking up at Kisuke through teary eyes, you nodded and whined a small ‘yes’ before he pulled his cock from your mouth, leaving a sputtering and wheezing mess. “Y-…Yes. Please…more. Please fill me up.”

“Who am I to deny this one request.” Grinned Sosuke as he changed his angle to focus his cock directly against your sweet spot, each thrust punishing that one spot over and over as you lay, pinned under him, trembling.  “Now be a good girl and cum for us.”

「 Shunsui and Jushiro 」

Squealing at the sudden spray of your juices squirting out and soaking the futon beneath you, your sounds were turned into a gargle of short gasps when Shunsui adjusted his hold on your legs and shifted his hips to reangle his cock. The thickness of his cock plunging in and out your ass, with each new thrust, disappearing between the plush roundness of your cheeks, left you trembling against his chest. Your sweaty back against his equally sweaty chest while he held you open like some sacrificial orifice, his hands gripping the back of your thighs and curling them into your chest, keeping them widely spread for Jushiro to have just enough space to drive his cock deeper into your pussy.

Softer, yet lustful eyes, meet your hazy and drunken ones. The gentle green, now replaced by a viridian shade locked with yours as a sweet smile stretched across his flustered face. Easily he closed the gap between you two and met your lips in a steady, bruising kiss, swallowing all your moans as his and Shunsui’s cock created a rhythm, ensuring that you were never empty as other filled you. His tongue swept into your mouth to capture your tongue, while a curtain of white hair blocked out the surroundings as he pressed himself against you, wanting to mould his body into yours.

“You look beautiful, so perfect. Taking us so well,” Jushiro murmured against your lips while he pressed a little more weight into his thrusts, his hands aided Shunsui with keeping you spread enough for him to reach deeper. One hand released your thigh to reach out and cup your cheek, wiping a bead of sweat close to your eye. “You were made for me…for us.”

Your response was an automatic clench of your walls followed by another torrential of juices squirting out again, soaking his lower abdomen and thighs. There was an echoed groan from each of them as they slowed for a moment to enjoy the slight spasming of your walls planting tiny kisses along their length. It was as though you were naturally sucking them in deeper with each kiss, begging for them to never leave. They already fitted you like two perfect puzzle pieces, leaving you boneless with the rhythmic push and pull of their cocks.

But just as they slowed to savour the sensation, their tempo increased once they regained their focus, and the reverberations of squelching elicited lewd sounds in your ear. Each slide of their cock into your wet heat made your toes curl and vision blurred. Shunsui’s purposeful rolls of his hips, plunging his cock further into your ass as he brought you down on his cock sent Jushiro’s cock rubbing against your sweet spot, leaving you whimpering, on the verge of blanking out. You didn’t know how to function as the sensation was heady.

“Look at you…all greedy for more, aren’t you pretty girl?” Shunsui purred huskily while his lips grazed your earlobe, continuously rolling his hips expertly to match Jushiro’s tempo. While Shunui’s cock was thicker, designed to stretch you to your limits, Jushiro’s elegant shape was longer and curved to rub perfectly in areas where others couldn’t reach. “You’re making a mess all over us, squeezing us so tightly…feels like you’re about to cum again.”

“P-please…more,” you whimpered as you felt another wave approaching, the same time the delicious stretch of Shunsui’s cock left your ass clenching around him as his head nudged deep, pressing against that sensitive bundle of nerves. The sensation was overwhelming, the fullness pushing you to the brink as Jushiro’s cock ground in sync against the sweet spot inside your pussy, the friction driving you crazy. Your nails gripped Jushiro’s arms, raking down his limbs as pathetic whines and whimpers left your lips.

Before you knew it, another gush of juices squirted from your pussy again. Jushiro’s and Shunsui’s cocks glided effortlessly through the mess, the slick and lewd sounds ground louder as they began to chase their highs. Skin slapping against skin with the occasional stutter of their hips when your walls gave a particularly harsh clench around them, prompting a hiss or groan. Easily, Jushiro’s lips returned to yours while Shunsui’s trailed along your shoulder, adding to the hickeys already left. The combination wasn’t making things better.

“If you keep this up, gorgeous, you’ll milk us dry,” Shunsui quipped as he planted a kiss on the area he bit, soothing the sting. “But that’s what you want, isn’t it? You want us to fill you up till you’re all swollen and it’s dripping out, hmm?”

Unable to form a coherent response, you whined against Jushiro’s lips as he smiled at your reaction, feeling a sense of pride swelling in his chest that you craved them. You pulled away shortly to look down at the mess between your legs—a ring of cream gathered at the base of both their cocks. Jushiro, taking the opportunity, attached his lips to your other neck to kiss along the curve, whispering sweet nothings and praises of how well you were doing.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered in between kisses. “You feel so good, love. I don’t think I can get enough of you.”

Your hands travelled from his arms to his shoulders, pressing your nails into his skin leaving behind pretty moon crescents. Both their names tumbled from your lips in a series of breathless moans as your legs trembled and toes curled once more.

“Don’t worry, princess. We’ll give just that and more.” At the reassurance from Shunsui, his hand slipped from your thigh to reach for your clit, flicking it lightly and drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. “Just let it all out…give us everything.”

©satsugacafé 2024: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

[my-my-my]

KINKTOBER DAY 8 - Masturbation: Jugram Haschwalth x Female Reader

By popular vote, this is posted today!

Summary: The seasons come and go. Summer, spring, autumn, and winter leave memories of you, your piano and knight Jugram Haschwalth, haunting your mind.

TW: MDNI! This is a historical AU (the time period is purposefully unclear), where you are Yhwach’s niece. Classism, implied gender and class roles, unrequited feelings, infidelity, arranged marriage. Mutual masturbation. This is kind of melancholic for the most part.

Word count: (the longest so far!) 4548

Read on AO3 here.

It’s autumn and you’re standing on the tips of your toes to watch the new pages practice with wooden swords.

They look small, like you, with childlike wonder as they hold their makeshift swords. Their eyes are filled with wonder and excitement. Except for one.

One of the shortest of the bunch, a boy with brilliant blonde hair, looks at his sword with concern and hesitation. He gives it a weak swing; you swear he looks like he’s trembling. Another boy, with dark red hair, yells at him, scaring the blonde boy, forcing his head up. You press your face against the window for a better look.

“He’s so pretty.” You said out loud, when one of your maids tugs your hand away from the scene.

“Mistress! Remove your face from the window this instance!” Your caretaker rushes to you, pulling you away from the view below. “You must attend your piano lessons. Don’t mind those boys.” Your caretaker scolds you, holding your hand firmly as you’re led away from the window. As you move away, you see the little blonde boy look up and you give him a wave as you’re pulled away.

It's autumn and you rather be playing outside in the fallen leaves with the blonde boy who doesn’t want to hold his sword.

Your piano teacher waits for you in the music room, where your black, grand piano awaits. It’s massive compared to your piano teacher, it’s even bigger compared to you. The piano is near another window, one that is open. The light breeze fills the room with a faint scent of fallen leaves and the grunts and yelps of the pages practicing outside. Your piano teacher, a lean, young man with blonde hair but not as pretty as the blonde boy outside you thought, approaches you. He gave you a grin, “little lady, you’ve kept me waitin’!” His voice has a bit of an accent, you were told he came from lands “far, far away.”

Your caretaker taps your shoulder, reminding you of your manners, “I’m sorry Mr. Hirako. Please excuse my tardiness.” You recite, your tone monotonous. Words repeated and echoed through your etiquette training.

Mr. Hirako lets out a snicker, “don’t worry about it, miss. Let’s get you warmed up with some scales.”

You watch your caretaker leave the room once Mr. Hirako ushers you to your seat. The notes glide off your fingertips, as Mr. Hirako watches you with intensity. Scale after scale, note after note, your music fills the room, echoing nearby.

The pages, who were done for the day, walk away from their practice session. But the little blonde boy hears the distant sound of piano playing and walks closer. He watches you, the little girl from the window. He stares at you in awe and envy, as he listens to your music playing. “Jugo! Whatcha doin’?! We gotta hurry back, Sister Retsu will get angry at us if we’re late!” The red-haired boy from earlier yells, slapping “Jugo’s” back. He pulls at the blonde boy’s sleeves, dragging him away from the window, while the blonde boy just stares until you’re out of his view.

It’s winter and beautiful. Fresh snow covers your manor in a haunting shade of white. It leaves your manor in absolute silence. There is no one around, and so you open the window in your piano room. There’s a slight chill in the air, but you love it nonetheless. The atmosphere helps you with your concentration.

Your recital approaches and you stare at your music sheets. You read over Mr. Hirako’s instructions and tips to steel yourself for your first recital. Little slips of paper stick out of your music books, while notes and coloured markings fill sections on what you need to practice, reminders to yourself of mistakes you have made.

You warm up with selections from Hanon’s Virtuoso Pianist. Scales, arpeggios and everything in between fly from your fingers. It feels effortless, your mind is focused and clear. You begin the first piece of your recital’s repertoire, Bach’s Fugue No. 16 from the second book of his Well-Tempered Clavier. The notes start heavy, with your fingers increasing in speed as bars fly from your vision.

Snap.

You stop playing, the loud snap shaking you out of your concentration. An animal wouldn’t have made such loud noises, it sounded like footsteps, you thought. You peer down the window and see the blonde boy of your youth, now a squire. His blonde hair is past his ears now, and he dons a black, long-sleeved tunic with your uncle’s family crest above his chest with white pants. He looks startled to see you, as you are of him.

You give him a polite smile and wave to him, but he doesn’t respond. It wasn’t just his hair that grew, you realized. The pages who trained endlessly, day after day, in sunshine, rain or snow, have now became squires. The changing of seasons and time reflected their physical growth as well. The blonde boy was now a teen, and he was tall, taller than you are now.

“Wait!” You yell at him, as he begins to walk away. You run through your manor, pushing past servants until you see him outside.

It’s winter and terribly cold, but you don’t care. The blonde teen looks startled to see you, and you were right, he was taller than you.

“Mistress, you shouldn’t be out here.” His voice is shaky as he tries step away from you.

“I’m fine!” You shout. He smiles weakly at you.

“How can I be of service to you, Mistress?” The teen asks, bowing his head at you.

You click your tongue disapprovingly, “we’re the same age, right?” You say, introducing yourself and extending your hand. The teen avoids your gaze and open palm as he whispers your name.

He ignores your question, “I’m Jugram Haschwalth, Lord Yhwach’s squire.” He says, finally looking at you. Hesitation and anxiousness fill his voice.

His eyes are a brilliant shade of green, reminding you of the meadows in springtime. You repeated his name over and over again, “I’ll definitely be able to remember that! And besides, I knew you were one of my uncle’s squires.” You laughed, “I just didn’t know your name.”

“Oh, right…” Jugram said softly.

The winter chill is creeping up through your clothes, as the two of you stand awkwardly.

“You’ll do anything I say, Jugram?” You ask, as you stare at him, you notice his posture, the way he slouches, and how he holds his arm behind his back.

He looks at you briefly, then looks away, “yes.”

“Then come listen to me practice!” You exclaim, “I need an audience anyways. I have my first recital coming.” You beamed at him, trying to get Jugram to relax a little.

He looks at you and then back to his feet, “I can’t –” and he immediately regrets his words, as disappoint washes over your face, “I mean, I can stay for one song.” He offers.

You give him a grin and bring him inside.

Music fills the room as Jugram watches you play. His back is straight as an arrow, but not out of confidence, but out of nerves. I don’t belong here, he thinks to himself.

But your music snaps him out of his thoughts as you continue to play your pieces. Before he even realizes, he’s smiling as he watches you play. You beamed at him from your seat, as you continued to play. You look back to your music sheets and close your eyes, your fingers having memorized every note and crescendo.

You come to a stop. Without looking up, you ask “Will you come to my recital, Jugram?” But he was gone. The room empty once again.

It’s spring, and you’re struggling to breathe. Your caretaker watches you as the seamstress tightens your corset. Your débutante ball is tonight and all your etiquette training, tutoring and classes prepared you for this night. You were to be presented as a young woman of upper society.

You looked at yourself in the mirror: rosy lips, lashes long and thick, hair styled tastefully, with an exceptionally beautiful silk ball gown. An elegant necklace drapes over your décolletage, with matching earrings already in place. You were to be a vision to guests and suitors alike.

It’s spring and you were dreading nightfall. Upper society was so stiff with its rules and mannerisms. Your one solace was your piano. As the seamstress continues her tightening, you stare at your hands, covered in matching silk gloves as your dress. Long and thin, evidence of the years of piano playing etched on every single finger. You chuckled to yourself as the memories of Mr. Hirako’s tutelage floods your mind.

You rather prepare for another recital than for a ball. Sighing, you turned your head and looked out the window, the setting sun in the distance. It fills your room and the nearby meadows with a golden glow.

You wonder if Jugram will be there tonight. It had been a few years since that day in the music room. He never came to your recital, but he was always around the manor, practicing, training, preparing with the other squires.

Well, you gave a quiet laugh, he wasn’t a squire anymore. The once shy boy and nervous teen was now a calm, talented and confident knight. A faint blush spreads your face at the thought of him. He would politely engage with you if you were nearby, asking you about your music, how you were, and what was occupying your time, but he would never acknowledge your first recital, or any recitals you invited to him after that. On the rare occasion he would sit and listen to you to play, maybe that’s a recital in it of itself, you mused. He would applaud you once you were finished but spoke only a few words about your music and talent.

You two would be in the same room, but sometimes it felt like you were distances apart. A wall between him and you that your only your music would lower.

You weren’t sure if he was a friend or not. You would watch him from afar, how he commanded his small troop with a cool confidence. His once bruise-covered, shaking arms, held his sword and shield with grace and poise, while he was distant and cold with his men, there was a soft, respectful and caring tone with you.

The seamstress stepped away from you, finished with your dress and admiring her work, “she’s ready.”

Your caretaker eyes are filled with love and awe, “you look magnificent, Mistress! You’ll be the talk of the ball tonight.” You gave her a wry smile, “thank you.”

It’s spring and you were wistful, looking out your carriage. Your manor grows smaller in the distance as the night grows darker.

The carriage comes to a halt in front of the castle. The castle was large and imposing, made of bright white stone. Women and men dressed in exquisite silk, satin and velvet, as they mingled, chatted and drank through the halls.

You were immediately escorted to another room, with other ladies who were preparing for their debut as well. You recognized some of them – classmates and acquaintances from your lessons. You politely nodded your head at them, but kept your distance, rather looking out the window instead.

“Ugh, he’s so boring.” You heard one woman say, loudly. Her brown, almost black hair was styled in a French twist with a thin tiara on top of her head. Her dress was red, it almost reminded you of blood.

“Bambietta, he’s your fiancé!” Another woman with blonde hair in loose curls and a seafoam-coloured gown, whispered harshly. You pretended not to pay attention to them but watched them through the faint reflection of the window.

Bambietta Basterbine, you recalled. The daughter of a weapons manufacturer who was close to your uncle. You had only met her a handful of times but found her quite rude with how she treated servants and those of lower rank.

“No, it’s insulting!” Bambietta scoffed, “if he weren’t one of Lord Yhwach’s most trusted knights, he wouldn’t even be here. He is a peasant in knight’s armour.” She sneered. Your ears twitched, one of your uncle’s knights?

“But at least he’s handsome… Lord Yhwach has some pretty ugly soldiers in his army.” Her blonde friend quipped, trying to diffuse the situation.

You could see Bambietta roll her eyes, “and he’s probably terrible in bed. His friend, you know the one with the black hair. Hubert?” Bambietta grinned, licking her lips, “he was fun. And besides, I’ll have my pick of the litter if he doesn’t satisfy me.” Bambietta said with a dismissive tone.

Your eyes widened from hearing their conversation, but you kept your cool. This was between her and her fiancé. Although... Hubert… you knew vaguely of him within your uncle’s army… he was Jugram’s second-in-command.

You felt your body churn out of anxiety, but your heart felt like it was crumbling.

An older madame entered the room and ushered all the ladies together, including you. You were each to be escorted by a knight as you descended the royal steps. Your stomach was in knots with anxiety creeping up your body.

Bambietta was to be in front of you and you could tell she was in a foul mood with the way she was pouting and glaring at you and everyone in the room.

And soon, the knights entered. You recognized Jugram immediately, one of the taller knights. You thought you saw his eyes widen as he saw you, but his gaze diverted to Bambietta. He was decorated in a fine white uniform, reminding you of snow, with a turquoise fur trim running along his jacket and gold fixtures. His sword fastened at his hip, and long blonde hair tied in a loose ponytail. “Bambietta” Jugram said, a bit coldly you thought. He held his hand to Bambietta, who scoffed and begrudgingly held it.

You were one of the few without a fiancé and were to be assigned a knight to escort you tonight. Hubert, the man in your uncle’s army, the second-in-command to Jugram, and Bambietta’s bed partner, gave you a small smile and bowed, taking your hand, “it’ll be my honor to escort you tonight, milady.”

You gave a sad smile and extended your hand. He kissed the back of your hand, and you wanted to wince. But you recalled your etiquette training and remained polite.

The train of knights and ladies descended the steps as orchestral music filled the hall. You looked ahead of you, to Jugram’s back, as he confidently escorted Bambietta down the steps.

“Announcing Lady Bambietta of the Basterbine family, escorted by her fiancé, Grandmaster Jugram Haschwalth.”

Then it was you and Hubert, stepping down to the marble floor. Once all the pairs were called upon, the first dance commenced. You smiled politely as Hubert held you. His grip was too tight on your hip and arm, as you winced while you danced. Eventually the song came to an end, and you parted ways.

The elites of the upper society began to swarm you, prodding you on to take Hubert as a fiancé, how your uncle would support you on the endeavour, but you politely declined. Stepping away from the crowd, you found a balcony to decompress, and people watch.

Some couples were dancing still, including Jugram and Bambietta. Their movements were fluid and graceful. You could hear in the distance guests gossiping about them, how beautiful their family would be.

Once the song ended you followed Jugram to another balcony outside. He was shocked to see you, eyes wide as you tried to gather courage for what you were about to say.

“Bambietta isn’t good for you!” You yelled, as sadness enveloped you, “she’s been sleeping with Hubert, and has no issues with seeing other men besides you.”

The look Jugram gave you scared you. Cold, lifeless green eyes staring into your soul. “It’s my duty to Lord Yhwach to marry who he sees fit.” He stared at you, his voice devoid of its usual warmth for you, “it doesn’t matter to me, as long as she’s happy.” He pushed you aside, walking back to the hall, leaving you alone on the balcony.

It was spring and you wanted to cry.

It’s summer and you’re visiting your uncle’s manor. Nothing has changed from what you can see. The gardens are beautiful as ever, with your favourite flowers in full bloom. You’re greeted by familiar servants and staff, welcoming you back into your home as they take your belongings to your room.

You walked through the halls towards your music room. Passing by the window, you see a familiar scene of young pages training to become knights, of wooden swords and childish laughter. How nostalgic you thought.

Lord Yhwach is away but promised to visit in the coming days. Your uncle wanted you to enjoy your stay in his home for the time being, taking a break from “the disgusting air of the city” as he described it. He didn’t like you living in the city, but you preferred it, playing recitals and teaching students music.

He also didn’t like that you remained unmarried. Neither did the rest of your family and your caretaker. Suitors would visit you from afar, and past visits back home would have a man waiting for your return, but you would dismiss each one.

Now you were reaching the “ineligible” age. An age where the annoying, nosy and rude ladies of upper society turned their noses at unmarried women. Sighing, you entered your music room. A song would distract you from those thoughts.

Your piano room was clean, albeit a bit stuffy. You opened the large windows by them to air out the room. The faint sound of children laughing can be heard, followed by the buzzing of cicadas, bringing a smile to your lips.

It’s summer and you deserve to enjoy yourself at your own pace.

You lift the cover of your piano to find clean and polished keys. You run your fingers gently across them, no sound being made. You settle yourself and decide on what piece to play. Your mind flashes to one of your first concerts in the city, where you received a standing ovation, and a large bouquet of your favourite flowers awaited your waiting room. There was no name attached to the bouquet, other than the note of “Congratulations.” Signed with your uncle’s crest. To this day you figured it was him. Recital after recital, you would find beautiful bouquets awaiting you with a note from your uncle.

Your fingers glided over the keys as you played the first piece from your first ever recital. The one where you had dragged Jugram to listen to that one winter’s day. You smiled to yourself as you closed your eyes, letting your fingers play the song from memory. You mind wandered as you continued to play, thinking of Jugram.

In the coming days after the ball, to save face, you had congratulated him on his engagement. You were a witness to his coronation as Imperial Advisor to your uncle. You had attended his wedding to Bambietta. And then you ran to the city.

Your hands were moving on their own as you recalled all of it, as tears started to prick your eyes. As the piece was nearing its end, you felt your hands grow heavy and you stopped.

“That was an old piece you played.” Jugram’s voice startled you.

“Jugram! I didn’t notice you were here.” You exclaimed, jumping out of your seat. You bowed to him as he did to you. “Did you just come in?” You asked, wondering when he entered the room.

“The servants told me you had arrived. I knew I would find you here.” He said, his voice even and calm. His uniform was stark white, he looked even taller than before.

But his green eyes were soft today, unlike the time at the ball. This was the Jugram you wanted to remember.

“Please excuse my intrusion,” a maid servant announced, as she brought tea and snacks for you.

“Oh thank you, but could you bring these outside? I’d like to enjoy them with Advisor Haschwalth.” You smiled, as the three of you were led outside.

The two of you sat in the gazebo in silence, as the wind tickled your hair. The sun was slowly beginning its descent into the horizon.

“How have you been, Jugram? How is Bambietta?”

Jugram sipped on his water, as his eyes lingered to the flowers nearby. “She’s fine.” He murmured.

“And you?” You asked again.

“Fine.” He said, always a man with few words. The air was warm, but comforting, but you noticed him unbutton his jacket.

“I’m always surprised to see you wearing your uniform during this heat.” You laughed, to which Jugram gave a slight smile.

“The fabric is suitable for all seasons, but it’s quite warm today.” He mused, taking another sip of water.

Silence grew again, as the two of you stared out in the distance.

“I –”

“You –”

The two of you spoke at the same time. Jugram ushered you to go first.

“I’m sorry about the ball. I know it’s been so many years, but I’m sorry for how I acted. It wasn’t my place.” You apologized, looking at him. Jugram’s face was expressionless.

“Bambietta and I are separating for now.” He murmured, still staring at the garden. Was he… disappointed? Relieved? You couldn’t tell.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Jugram. That must have been difficult for you both to agree on.” You sighed.

Jugram gave you a sad smile. “She was upset with the bouquets I was having delivered.”

Your eyes widened in surprised, “isn’t that a bit hypocritical of her? But I’m surprised, you had someone else?”

Jugram gave a dry chuckle, “no, I never bedded them, but I suppose it was unfair to her that I would gift flowers to someone and visit the city every now and then.” Your heart panged again, sadness washing over you that Jugram’s affections laid with someone else... again.

“Are you going to be with this person once your separation is finalized?” You asked, unsure if you could handle his answer.

“I want to.” He said calmly, his face again, remained expressionless, “but that depends on her.” He mused, his lips forming to a wistful smile.

“Do you regret what happened?” You asked softly, trying to remain composed for whatever Jugram may say.

“I have no regrets.” He murmured, “I made my own choice to marry her, and it’s now my choice to separate from her and be with someone else.”

“But what about my uncle?” You asked, worried that Jugram may have been on the receiving end of your uncle’s ruthlessness.

“He signed off on it. I suppose whatever deal he had with the Basterbine family was fulfilled.” Jugram said, wistfully.

The silence between you two grew again as the sun began to set.

“Did you like the bouquets?” He asked, staring at you.

“The bouquets?” You asked in confusion. “Wait, that… that was from you?”

Jugram nodded. “I attended some of your recitals.” He said calmly, finishing his glass of water. “You are truly a gift from God.” He quietly said.

“I thought they were from Lord Yhwach all this time…” You said, your voice wavering. Your heart was beating so loudly. You began to feel felt faint.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there? I—” You asked, trying to calm yourself.

Jugram remained silent, as he continued to stare into the gardens.

“If I didn’t see you play at least once in my life,” Jugram said, “I would die with that regret.” He whispered, looking at the distance with a longing in eyes. “And then one recital, became multiple.”

Jugram got up from his seat and stood in front of you, extending his hand. You gave him yours, to which he bowed and kissed the back of your hand. “Please allow me to escort you to dinner tonight, your highness.” Jugram asked.

The days are long, and the nights are warm. Your body aches and your pussy is sore, sticky remnants covering your thigh. You had consummated your marriage to Jugram.

Your nipples are sensitive from Jugram’s teeth marks. Your lips are puffy and swollen from the kisses he stole from you.

Although everything hurt, you ached for more of him.

His cheeks were slightly flushed for the evening’s earlier activities, but now he laid asleep next you, his broad chest moving to every hitch of breath he was taking. His face was relaxed, his lips weren’t frowning, his eyebrows weren’t crossed. He looked at peace. You gently placed your hand over his heart, your long fingers gently tapping to the song from your youth.

Yet like everything Jugram does, he surprises you as his hand interlocks with yours.

“I’m sorry to wake you, Jugo.” You whispered, kissing him softly on the lips. “I couldn’t help myself.” You murmured, kissing him again, “you just looked so content.”

Jugram cupped your face in his hand as the two of you laid side-by-side. “You must be sore from tonight.” He said, kissing your forehead.

You felt heat rise below and peered down below the blanket. Jugram’s cock was growing stiff. You bit your lip in anticipation, reaching your hand down below, but Jugram stopped you.

“Rest, my highness.” Jugram murmured, “I can wait.”

You pouted at him, “can I watch at least?” You politely asked, giving him an innocent look. Jugram looked at you, eyes wide at the question. Your hand reached down and gently grabbed his growing erection, sliding your hand up and down.

Jugram grunted at the feeling, and pulled your arm away from his cock, replacing it with his own. “What her majesty wants, her majesty will get.” He whispered into your ear, as you watched Jugram slide his hand over his stiff cock. Precum leaked from the tip as Jugram watched you. He pinched your nipple and stole another kiss from you.

You moaned into him, throwing your arms around his neck, but he pulled away, continuing to pump his cock.

Watching him left a familiar ache of your own, as your hand darted to your pussy, rubbing your clit gently watching Jugram masturbate on top of you. You slipped one of your fingers inside, whimpering as you thought of Jugram’s cock inside you instead.

Jugram’s movements grew more erratic, and his breath more laboured as he watched you play with yourself, moaning his name. He watched you insert a second finger inside you, arching your back at the feeling, another moan of his name escaping his lips.

It was too much for him, as Jugram closed his eyes and groaned your name, his cum thick on your stomach. You slipped your fingers out from your pussy, using them to scoop his cooling cum of your body and tasting it. “Delicious.” You teased, licking your fingers clean.

Jugram panted, but gave you a wry smile, “you will be the death of me, your majesty.”

THANKS FOR READING!! This was originally planned to be super angst heavy, but my brain went another way haha! Here are some notes for this fic:

The title of the song on AO3 is from Duran Duran's "The Chauffeur" (one of my top favourite songs of all time), but I was specifically listening to Sneaker Pimps' cover of it.

Hanon's Virtuoso Pianist, is actually a great tool to build your finger strength and helps with scales and technical studies for piano playing.

The Bach piece that reader plays with Jugram in the room is Bach's Fugue No. 16 in G Minor from Book 2 of The Well-Tempered Clavier.

For the reason I chose Bambietta is based off this goofy omake between her and Jugram lmao

I really enjoyed writing this fic, so I hope you all enjoy it as well!!

[muzansfangs]

GRAPPA + Grimmjow 🩵

Melt my heart.

Starring: Grimmjow Jagaerjaquez x f!reader;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, dirty jokes, dom!Grimmjow, sub!reader, passionate sex, creampie, mates, established relationship;

Plot: Sheltering from the wintry air and heavy snow in the chalet you had rented for a romantic weekend away from Karakura, you introduce your boyfriend to the small pleasures of life. Hot chocolate, small conversations and the warm heat provided by the fireplace led you two to a passionate moment of lust and love.

Drink chosen: GRAPPA (passionate sex in front of the fireplace).

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT | RULES FOR THE EVENT

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Everything around you was coated by a white blanket of snow. The landscape was breathtaking and the sound of your boots crunching the glistening ice and snow underneath your feet warmed your heart up in joy. Smiling happily, you glanced at your boyfriend behind you, shrugging the snowflakes off of his new coat trimmed with light-blue fur. His nose was scrunched up in irritation, a clear sign he loathed winter and was probably complying with your plan for the weekend for the sake of not hearing you complaining with him twenty-four hours a day.

"The cat is being dramatic again, I see" you chimed, a soft chuckle leaving your lips as you watched him roll his piercing blue eyes at you.

"You know I don't like getting wet. — he grumbled, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat and striding up towards you with heavy steps — Unless it's on your juices" he added, a shit-eating grin crossing his lips, as you slapped his arm playfully.

You were about to retort something, when a gust of wind blew harshly over you two and words died on your tongue. Reprimanding Grimmjow could definitely wait a little longer. You needed to get into the chalet before you died of frostbite.

Shuddering, you stumbled down the snowy path that led to the small chalet you had rented for a weekened away from the stress caused by the chaotic life you lived in Karakura. A little break surley would have not hurt you and the former Espada you were dating. After having to face the recent war against Yhwach and his army of psychotic flunkies, you were not going to miss the chance to spend a romantic and peaceful weekend with your boyfriend.

Hastily unlocking the front door, hands shaking for the cold, you pushed the door open and stomped your feet onto the porch to get rid of the snow and ice remenants clinging onto your shoes. Grimmjow, albeit not being exactly a man of culture and ignoring the concept of manners, mimicked your actions and did the same. You were glad he was trying to act like a civilized person. He would have always denied that he was doing it for you, but everyone had kind of noticed a switch in his brazen manners, since you two had officially gotten together.

"We need to light up the fire. It's freezing cold" you instructed him, as you watched him toss your bag onto the wooden floor and darting his eyes on the cozy design of the chalet.

He was not the type of man who cared about details and he was naturally foreign to such comfortable places. Except for your flat, he had spent most of his life living in a desertic area. With Aizen's arrival in Hueco Mundo, he got a roof over his head, but the style of his quarters was absolutely minimalistic.

"Yeah, I can see your teeth are chattering with the cold. A fire is nothing a Cero cannot provide" he cockily said then, marching towards the fireplace with the ludicrous intent of blasting a Cero into the small marble fireplace.

Shutting the door with a foot, you scurried towards him with horror plastered all over your face. Your hand grasped him by the sleeve of his coat, eyes searching for his ones as you stood right in front of him with a panicked expression "Woah, Grimmjow, what? You cannot use your Cero here. - you started, as the blue-haired man furrowed his brows in confusion - You're going to demolish the entire place. Here, let me take care of it. Just sit over there and wait for me" you told him, your voice indulging into a softer tone, as he shrugged and begrudgingly disisted from turning the small chalet into a pile of rubble and ash.

Grimmjow unbuttoned his coat, discarding it carelessly on the nearby armchair, before kicking his boots off and flopping down onto the fluffy, brownish rug underneath your feet. You did not question him, a small smile tugging your lips upwards, as you approched the metallic wood holder to grasp some logs to throw into the fireplace.

Old habits were hard to get rid of, but you were not going to pest him this weekend too. Not when this was supposed to be your getaway from the world and its rules.

"You humans are weird as fuck. In Hueco Mundo it's the prerogative of a man to do stuff like that for his mate" Grimmjow's hoarse voice pierced your ears, as the fire sent flickers of light across the room, making your eyes glow. Now you could finally get comfortable and that was exactly what you did, unzipping your jacket and unwrapping the purple scarf you were wearing from around your neck.

Whipping your head towards your boyfriend, you quirked your eyebrows up, casually shrugging at his remark "Well, in the world of the livings, humans do not care much about that. I wanted to do it for you... And I could not let you destroy our shelter for the night now, could I?" you replied, before standing back up, tossing your items onto the armchair as well, while you ambled to the kitchen, and reached your hand up to open the cupboard.

Upon spotting two forest green mugs, you grasped them and settled them down onto the counter, acknowledging Grimmjow's eyes boring holes on your nape all the time. Even though he was trying to figure out what exactly you were doing, fumbling with what he assumed was a sachet of cocoa powder, his head was striving to wrap around the fact that you had not protested when he had called you 'mate’. He remembered a few months ago the talk you two had over the whole mating topic. You had told him only animals mated and your relationship could not be based on the primordial rules settled by nature in the animal and Hollow kingdom. You two were partners, people loving each others.

But, deep inside him, although he would have never admitted it out loud, you were always going to be his mate. Maybe it was something bigger than you, a reality distant from yours, but he had felt it the first moment you two had met. You were his one. You were his mate.

And a mate was not a simple partner.

"Grimm, are you still with me?" you called him out then, kneeling right next to him with two mugs of hot chocolate in your hand and snapping him out of his stream of consciousness. Sometimes, you wished you could read his mind, following him into the places he disappeared into without sharing his feelings. But this was Grimmjow Jagaerjaquez you were talking about and, frankly, you just appreciated the fact that he had been honest enough to admit he felt something for you.

Grasping one of the mugs, he slowly brought it up to his nose, taking a good whiff of the drink you were offering him. He had never tried it before and it did not smell that bad. Yet, the color was surely not promising.

"What's that? The color's not that inviting" he expressed his doubts about the drink, watching how you just took a sip of it and fluttered your eyes close in sheer ecstasy.

"Just give it a try, trust me" you suggested him, resting your cheek on the top of his shoulder to assure him, but also following the egoistical desire of feeling him closer to you.

"Oi, listen up, if I drink it and it tastes like shit—".

"Hey! Would I really drink something that tastes like shit and give it to you?" you protested, glancing up at him and squinting in a timid attempt to decipher his expression.

Grimmjow grinned and elbowed your ribs jokingly, as he trusted you and took a sip from his mug. Waiting for him to give you a feedback about the new food you had prepared for him, you proceeded to enjoy your own dose of chocolate and smiled softly. When Grimmjow groaned lowly, you looked at him and caught the Sexta Espada sweeping his tongue out to lick away a single drop of chocolate resting on his bottom lip.

"Damn it, that's good" he uttered, looking at you in excitement as he then took another generous swing from his mug, chugging it down as if it was ambrosia. The almost childish reaction you had gotten out of a man as proud as Grimmjow with a simple drink and the way his cheeks had turned pink for the heat provided by the crackling flames filled your heart with joy.

"I love you" you suddenly said, as your boyfriend paused, his hand half-raisen to finish off the last sip of chocolate in his mug.

Lips parted, Grimmjow stared at you with a baffled expression. You had said you loved him a few other times since you had confessed for the first time, but the way you had pronounced those words now made his stomach twist and turn, almost prompting him to blurt them out too. Those eyes of yours, your unique way of making him feel less of a freak drove him mad.

You barely processed his free hand grasping your jaw to force you to crane your neck enough to let him reach your mouth easily, but you were far-sighted enough to settle your mug down at your right, before he captured your lips with his in a fervent, demanding kiss.

Teeth clashed as he let go of his mug as well, his hand now sliding down towards your waist and squeezing it. Warm fingers skimming underneath your sweater, he slithered his hand up to your stomach and midriff, a soft groan rumbling from deep into his chest as he pulled you over his lap.

"You see? That's why I want you next to me. You fuck with my head in a way no one can. You sexy witch" he huskily whispered, his lips still hovering over yours as you straddled him, his hands forcing your hips down until his groin pressed up against yours in a delicious friction, eliciting a whine of anticipation from you.

"Grimm, wait, let's go to bed..." you whispered, hand cupping his cheek as you allowed him to rotate his hips onto yours. You skin was on fire and you honestly had no idea if it was because of your proximity to the fire, or if it was to blame on your underwear getting wetter second by second under his ministrations.

However, as he growled next to yout ear, breath hitching in your throat as he slided his hand behind your nape protectively, you knew the location was not nogatiable this time around. Allowing him to lay you down onto the rug, you stared up at him in sheer desire, watching the way he quickly took off his own sweater, chiseled abs and pectorals exposed to your hooded eyes.

The Hollow hole on his abdomen, his signature mark, made shivers run down your spine and you let your gaze trail down to his v line, as he unbuckled his belt and proceeded to take off his trousers. You tried to follow his example and began to remove your own clothes, but Grimmjow stopped you.

His left hand pinned your wrists together above your head with a swift move “No. I may let you light up a fire, but, when I fuck you, I am the one who takes care of you” he said, his free hand sliding down your side, until he popped the button of your jeans open and he hooked his fingers around the waistband.

You nodded your head, willing to let him in charge, while he gave your trousers a few harsh tugs to get them out of his way. You were absolutely amazing to him, so beautiful he could barely cope with the thought of being vulnerable, when it came down to you.

Parting your legs, Grimmjow pushed the already damp fabric of your panties to the side and let the pads of his fingers glide down your slit. He felt himself twitch into his tight boxers, his sharp canines protruding from his upper lip as he rolled your pearl between his index and thumb.

You moaned out in pleasure, hands gripping the fur of the carpet at your sides as you arched your back unintentionally. You were on fire, your skin burnt under his piercing, famished gaze and his touch. You needed him, you needed more of this.

“Grimm…” you breathed out, peering up at him with teary eyes.

“I got you. I fucking got you, don’t worry” he replied, beginning to slide his boxers down with his free hand. His cock pulsed, the need to claim you, to let you know how badly he desired to be with you forever, to protect you from anyone and anything threatening your life was unbearable.

And as he hooked your legs around his waist, lining his cock to your sappy opening, he made sure to lock eyes with you before talking “You are mine” he deadpanned, driving his hips down onto yours.

The stretch, as per usual, was enough to make you whimper out, as your walls tried to adjust to his size. His girth had always left you breathless. His groans when you squeezed him up sounded so wild and animalistic, you wondered if his inner animal was striving to take over him.

The moment he felt you fitting around him like a glove, your breath becoming less erratic, fingers running through his hair, he knew he could start moving. Pulling out until only his tip was still nestled into you, he then drilled back into your warm cavern with a quick thrust.

Toes curling, you let out a strained moan as you hid your face onto the crook of his neck, hands resting over his shoulderblades and loving the way you could feel his muscles flex for each movement he made.

No restraints, no fear to be heard, Grimmjow thrusted into you slowly, but passionately. Moans of pleasure, groans, filled the air. Your skin was sweaty, your breaths uneven, his grip on you bruising as if he feared you would slip away from his iron grasp.

And as you kissed him, your tongues meeting in your mouth as he stilled his movements, the warm seed spurting into you felt like your ticket for Heaven.

And Heaven was wherever you two were together.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! I am excited to present you the first work for my “Have a drink event”. You can find the rules to partecipate on the top of this work! A masterlist is in my drafts. I am just waiting for some works to be done so that I can post it and update it with every request I publish! Next to come: Sanemi + tequila ;)

Likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated!

TAGS: @electronicwitchcollection (because you are the best Grimmjow author around) and @sashi-ya (because PEOPLE need to explore your account and dream on your Bleach works just like I do❤️)