#and shinigami just sitting there all smug like

[muzansfangs]

MARGARITA + Grimmjow 🩵

The royal pet.

Starring: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x f!reader; mention to Aizen Sosuke;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, language, slight degradation kink, oral sex (Grimmjow!receiving), vaginal fingering, lingerie kink, playful face-slapping, cum swallowing, hair pulling, the reader is Aizen’s daughter, secret affair, dirty talk;

Plot: The thrill of going behind your father’s back and letting loose had always been enticing to you. Spitting on Aizen Sosuke’s rules by letting the Sexta Espada turn you into his personal plaything was absolutely enthralling. At the end of a particularly intense meeting, you found your way to Grimmjow’s quarters and helped him take his frustration out on you: the very person who resembled Lord Aizen.

Drink chosen: MARGARITA (blow job, cum swallowing, lingerie kink, vaginal fingering, playful face-slapping);

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT | RULES FOR THE EVENT

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"On your fucking knees" Grimmjow growled, slamming the door of his quarters close behind him. The playful smirk gracing your glossy lips only widened, when you noticed the way his jaw clenched in annoyance, hands already working on the sash of his hakama to get rid of his pants.

He was beyond furious.

You knew the reason why wrath flashed in his gorgeous, piercing blue eyes. Earlier, when your father had publicly humbled him, flexing his immense reiatsu at the presence of the whole team of the Espada working for him, you were there too. Actually, you were standing right at your father's side, witnessing to the scene impassibly, albeit you were squeezing your thighs together underneath the white gown of your pristine uniform. You already knew what was going to happen once that farce ended. You could see the thirst for revenge in Grimmjow’s feral gaze, when your eyes had met for a split second. It was clear to see: Grimmjow knew he could do nothing against your father, therefore he had opted for playing with his precious daughter to get back at him.

He vividly remembered the day his Lord had introduced you to his flunkies. Grimmjow had never been the type to pay attention during meetings, sitting comfortably on the chair and staring at the void sounded better than listening to Aizen’s rambling speeches, most of the times. The formality that shinigami had always attempted to make the Arrancars accostumed to had nauseated Grimmjow to no end for months. Not easy to tame, he minded his own business, simply going straight for the kill when he heard Aizen needed someone to be eradicated from the world.

Still, hearing Aizen calling that pretty girl standing next to him ‘my daughter, your princess’, had made the tables turn pretty fast. Looking at your face, he could see some of your father’s traits, unequivocally confirming you shared his blood. Having you would have granted him a chance to get even with that bastard. Not even a week later, he was rutting into you in his bedroom.

Lord Aizen did not know about your affair and he was far from imagining what you were doing now, climbing off of the bed in that lacy blue lingerie that Grimmjow loved to tear off of your body. After all, you had mastered your ability to hide your reiatsu and, just like your father, you displayed lofty disdain in public appearence. No one would have ever believed you let the Sexta Espada ravage you every night.

“Someone is upset, I see” you said, stopping right in front of Grimmjow with a smug grin plastered on your face.

He clenched his jaw, blue eyes sizing you up hungrily “Cut the crap and open that stupid mouth of yours” he hissed through gritted teeth, before slapping you playfully across your cheek.

You huffed, rolling your eyes, tongue darting out of your mouth to moisten your lips. Apparently, he was in no mood to waste precious time. You got the hint of it, when moments after kneeling in front of him, his hand unceremoniously grasped a fistful of your hair and tugged at it. You shot him an annoyed glare, lips parting as he slapped the riddiah tip of his cock over your tongue. Warmth, that warmth he had been yearning for was finally tickling the sensitive skin of his cock. The sensation obnubilated his senses, a guttural groan of satisfaction reverberating through the walls of his bedroom.

Your tsked, sloppily kissing the mushroom head to lubricate it, before finally dipping your head forwards to envelop almost halfway through. Grimmjow wanted more. He demanded more from you; a princess had to skilled, right?

“Fuck— Go at it, come on. At least, you stopped yapping. You are just like that son of a bitch, y’know? So lucky, you’re so lucky you are prettier” Grimmjow ranted, lolling his head back as you began to suck him off diligently, tongue teasingly running on the prominent vein on the underside of his cock.

He grunted, screwing his eyes shut at this. Your vision was partially blurry, tears threatening to spill down from the angles of your eyes for the efforts. No matter how many times you had given him oral, you would have never grown accostumed to his rough pace and size. He perfectly knew you struggled, the gagging sounds you emitted had clearly never gone unnoticed by the cocky man currently face-fucking you.

However, you deep down knew why he never showed mercy towards you. It was all thanks to the blood in your veins, naturally. No one who shared Sosuke’s last name should have ever being showed empathy to.

The moment he twitched into your mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, you were granted the chance to breathe for he finally pulled out of your mouth. Saliva dribbled down your chin, a string connecting your lips to his cock, bumping onto your nose to still remind you that it could invade your throat at any minute. Classic Grimmjow with his devious ideas.

His fingers still tangled through your head yanked you up, tossing onto his bed. Falling face first onto the mattress, you attempted to roll onto your back to lock eyes with him. Grimmjow, on the other hand, pinned you back down. His fingers skimmed down your body, tugging at the fabric of your panties to push them to the side. Puffy labia glistening in arousal, he chuckled darkly at the sight of your heat.

“Fucking Hell, that’s so gross, princess. Getting turned on by being manhandled… That’s sick. — he gruffly said, before he slided his forefinger into you, the squelching noise music to his ears — Slut, you like it, hm? Degraded by your father’s underling, as if you were a cheap whore” he mocked you and the way you shrieked onto the bed, strained moans leaving your lips like a mantra.

“Shut up already!” you protested, brows furrowing, when he added another fingers and deftly curled them into you.

Blinded by lust and pleasure, you gasped and gripped the sheets at your sides to brace yourself. No, you were not going to last long if he perseverated in ferociously stimulating that spongy spot into you. The blissful torture did not last long. No, it did not, because Grimmjow did not believe you derseved to be properly pampered for your hard work, or for risking your own neck to let him ravage you in your father’s castle.

Pulling his fingers out of your welcoming hole, the Espada rolled you over your back. Panting, you shot him a questining look, only for him to grin from ear to ear and climb onto the bed. Hand wrapped around his cock, he began to jerk off with his knees at the sides of your head.

“Sorry, babe, but I ain’t got time for fucking you. You’ll have to drink up… Yeah, open wide Aizen Y/N” he rasped out, your nails digging onto his thighs as you closed your eyes and awaited.

Loyal, royal pet, you swallowed down the hot semen spurting directly from the Espada’s cock, tasting the sour liquid as if it was an act of service. Learning to love Grimmjow had come along with disobeying your father’s rules and pretending nothing went on between the walls of Las Noches.

Dressing back up, you made sure to join your father for dinner, greeting him with a kiss on his cheek and a benevolent smile crossing your sinful lips all the times. Those lips, you had kissed your father’s cheeck with the same impure lips that had been stained by his stupid Espada’s cum. How disrespectful you were

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Another one-shot for the event has been completed! The Nanami one is going to follow suit in the next few days. Thank you so much for your support!

Until next,

x o x o

TAGS: @beautifulblackbutterflies because you love Grimmjow!

[tobiasdrake]

Well, this is the worst possible situation. Only one thing to do now!

Yeah. Yuma's done a fantastic job making this bad situation much worse. Instead of Seth wanting to arrest us for fear of what we might learn, now he wants to bury us for fear of what we know.

I don't see solving this with diplomacy.

Let's solve it with violence instead!

Yeah, and they're about to beat your ass if you don't shut the hell up and sit down.

Look at this guy. Look how smug he is now that we have the upper hand here. I don't have a lot of respect for him but I love to see him like this all the same.

Halara's going so hard at this that even I'm beginning to doubt my theory that they're definitely the Nail Man. Maybe it is Worshipper. Or all four church folk carrying out separate murders. Or something.

Halara even went to the trouble of bringing all the church folk here so I can finger the one (or all) that's the killer.

But if they're the killer, then this could be an elaborate ruse to get me to finger the wrong person. Hmm.

Well, that will be a matter for the Mystery Labyrinth to uncover fully. Let's get our time-freeze going and--

HOLY FUCK HOW ARE YOU CONSCIOUS RIGHT NOW. What the shit, Shinigami!? WHAT THE SHIT!?

OH. OKAY. YOU COULD HAVE MENTIONED THAT WOULD HAPPEN.

You know what? It's cool. This is fine. Everything's fine. If Halara's going to be helping us crack the Mystery Labyrinth then that means the likelihood of them being the Nail Man is next to zero.

I've just been needlessly slandering them this whole time. That's great. Gonna have an apology to make just as soon as we finish reaping someone's soul.

I guess we're going to be eldritch mystery besties from now on. This is fine. I definitely haven't been pinning a lot of my hopes and suspicions on you, specifically or anything. THIS IS FINE.

[melatonindepicts]

Ulquiorra x Reader, Chapter #2

Chapter Two; Grimmjow, Nnoitra, and Las Noches.

You had been sitting in your room, reading the books on the shelves for a few hours now. Ulquiorra said you were allowed to wander the halls but you didn’t want to risk your life just for curiosity’s sake.

 Wait, why did you not want to risk your life? You’ve been kidnapped, and probably are going to have some really bad stuff happen to you. Yet here you are, not wanting to risk your life? Why? but your thoughts were interrupted.

{“Well, looks like someones trying convince themselves that they’re suicidal!”} A voice in your head said, it sounded male, but sort of young. You jolted your head around trying to see where it came from, but no one was in the room.

{“Wait what?! You can finally actually hear me?! Holy shit”} the voice said, causing you to jump, then grab your head. Are you going insane?!

{“I guess it’s finally time to introduce myself. My name is Dezei Shimo, I’m your zanpakutō. You know what a zanpakutō is, correct?”} Dezei asked you. “Uhm.. yea I do, Zanpakutō are the trademark weapons of the Shinigami, caple of cutting spiritual bodies-” you began to explain, but were cut off by Dezei

{“Ok I don’t need the whole explanation you fucking nerd”} Dezei said, in a bored tone. “Wow, for a zanpakutō you're rude” you said to the voice, you heard a distant scoff. Despite the warning, you decided to get up and go walk around this “Las Noches”. As you got up, you walked over to the door, remembering Ulquiorra’s stare. ‘Why the fuck can’t I get him out of my head?!’ you thought, as you leaned against the door to listen out to see if any one was there.

Luckily no one was there, so you slid the door open. The place had long tall halls that looked like they went on for ages. You started wandering the halls, glancing into open doors. Most of them all seemed the same as your own. ‘Sheesh this place is bland’ you thought, continuing to walk. Eventually you stopped by a door that looked like it’d been through hell. Scratches and cracks all over it, and the door frame looked like it was about to crumble into dust. You reached your hand out to put it against the door to try and open it, but as you put your hand on the door, a voice sounded behind you.

“Shouldn’t you knock before opening someone’s door?” the voice said, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. You looked to the side, to see this six foot tall muscular man with blue hair and what looked like a panther’s jaw on the side of his face. He had this smug smirk on his face, revealing his sharp cat-like teeth. You just stared up at him, not knowing exactly what to do.

“My, what arrancar number are you? Seven-hundred? You look like a pathetic twig.” he said, as his smirk grew bigger. “Well you little shit, why were you trying to go into my room? Are you looking for me?” He said, bending his back down until his face was inches from yours. You just stood there, opening your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His hand grabbed your chin and pointed it up at him. “Fucking answer me, you dipshit.” he ordered, causing you to flinch.

“I- I’m not an A- Arrancar..” you barely got out, tripping over your words. He cocked an eyebrow and then let out a laugh. “Oh you're that little girl that Ulquiorra brought back, aren’t you?!” He said, whipping away a fake tear. Then he looked back down and let a wide smirk spread across his face, before grabbing you by your neck, lifting you up. You let out a squeak as your feet left the ground.

“You're so pathetic! God, why would Ulquiorra think you have anything special about you?!” he yelled at you, as the smirk on his face remained. You began to squirm to get air, until you reached your hand over and gripped his wrist, and in a moment of desperation, dug your fingernails into it. At first it was like gripping stone, nothing was happening. A moment later, your hand began to feel static-like, like pins and needles. Right as you began to black out, Grimmjow let out a yelp of pain, then threw you. He gripped the wrist that was now burnt, revealing the underskin. “What the fuck was that?!” he barked at you, before inspecting it. “Is this some kind of joke?! There’s no way a little girl like you could get past my hierro!” he yelled, gritting his teeth and letting out a growl. You knew you had fucked up now, even though you had no idea what even happened. Grimmjow began to march back over, cracking his neck. “I’m going to beat you to a fucking bloody pulp you little girl!” He yelled as he got closer, but before he could, a cold monotone voice sounded behind him.

“What are you doing, Grimmjow?” Ulquiorra said, as Grimmjow spun around, then growled at him.

“Get your little fucking girl under control! The little fuck shocked me, then broke through my hierro.” he yelled at him, Ulquiorra glanced over at you, seeing you were almost as pale as him. “Would you happen to have done something to provoke her to do so?” He said, raising his eyebrow. Grimmjow just gritted his teeth. That was enough of an answer for the cuatro Espada. Ulquiorra turned his attention back to you, as he gave you his emotionless piercing stare, but this time it was more of a relief. “Tell me, woman, how did you use that ability of yours?” he asked, slowly approaching you.

“I- I’m not sure…” You said, looking at your hand as white electricity went from finger to finger. Ulquiorra turned his attention to your hand. “It appears she does have an ability that could be of use to us.” he stated, crouching down.

“Now use it on me.” he ordered, causing you to look at him flabbergasted and caught off guard. ‘Is this fucker a masochist or some bullshit?! What the fuck?!’ you thought, still staring at his face. But you obeyed.

You put your hand around his wrist, feeling his cold, rough skin. As it layed in your hand you had this feeling in your stomach. Like your heart just fell into it. You just completely zoned out at this feeling of his skin. You didn’t know why you did, but eventually you broke the daze and then hesitantly focused all your energy into your palm, causing electricity to build around your hand and his wrist. Eventually it got to the point it began to completely burn his skin, burning through the flesh. You pulled away because he wouldn’t, you stared at the flesh around his wrist, you stared horrified.

“Interesting.” He said simply, and black liquid shot around his wrist, then it formed into skin. You flinched at the sight, but also were curious. Ulquiorra stood up and looked at Grimmjow. “Go to the medical bay, I must report this discovery to Lord Aizen.” he stated simply, then began to walk away. You stared at his beautiful kimono tails swaying behind him, as he walked away putting his hand back in his pocket. You couldn’t look away, and just watched as he disappeared down the hall.

“-- listening to me?! Hello?!” Grimmjow barked, waking you back up to reality. You looked at him, realizing he had a really annoyed, pissed off look on his face. “You’re lucky you're a special little dipshit, because otherwise I would’ve torn you apart limb by limb by now.” he said, you gulped at that sentence.

He looked in the direction where Ulquiorra had walked down, gritting his teeth once again. “That fucker is an entitled spoiled brat. I hate him with every fucking bone in my body, you’re lucky your in his care. If it had been me, I would’ve used you as a scratching board, or if it was Szayelaporro, you would’ve been used as an experiment for the next thirty years, then end up as a liquid in a jar by the end of that.” he said, looking at you with a smirk on his face. “Halibel would’ve taken care of you like all her other fracción, Starrk would’ve let you wander the halls with no cares in the world, and Barragan would’ve just used you as a fucking slave” he said, letting out a chuckle, but quickly diverting it back to grit teeth and a growl. “But Ulquiorra is a little teacher’s pet, suckup and softie. All he does is follow orders, so he’s just going to leave you in your room with no purpose, just like how he was.” he said, gritting his teeth, before turning around and going into his room, slamming the door shut.

You just sat there dumbfounded by all the new info that Grimmjow had just given you. You stood back up, and began to walk down the halls again, looking around. But you were mostly distracted by your hand, which still had white electricity going around it. “Hey Dezei? What was that?” you asked, hoping the zanpakutō was awake, sure enough, he was. {“I’m not fully sure, I’ve been trapped in this inner world for ages, I can only see and hear what’s happening when your powers are activated, so I only know some things about you.”} He stated, which frustrated you. You had no idea what had just happened, and neither did your zanpakutō. 

After a while of walking, you reached this large door frame, without a door. It led out into a large sand field, surrounded by the buildings of Las Noches. ‘I’m going to say training grounds’ you said as you walked out, bending down and shuffling the sand. You focused the power into your palm again, and the electricity vibrated through the sand, sending all the sand around you to have the electricity go around through it, causing them to violently vibrate, a lot like marbles on a loudspeaker. After around thirty minutes of doing this, testing it on a few of the crystal trees. You learnt it caused them to instantly shatter, with no effort.

It caused the rocks to crack in half, revealing a pitch black liquid to leak out… ‘it’s like the one that Ulquiorra used to regenerate his wrist’ you thought to yourself, inspecting it. ‘Why do I keep thinking of Ulquiorra?!’ you thought again, mentally slapping yourself. You know nothing about the guy other than him being obedient, calm, his name, and that beautiful gaze. ‘Beautiful?! God what is happening with me’ you thought, mentally slapping yourself again. You continued to fiddle with the power, each time the radius of the sand that was affected grew, it seemed you were getting better with the power, learning how to control the energy that was used to engage it.

After a few more minutes, the words Ulquiorra spoke rang through your head. 

“I will be back in an hour. You are free to roam the halls of Las Noches, you are not a prisoner here.” 

‘I want to keep that title as a… visitor? Companion? Whatever those things are, fracción I think? I don’t want to piss Ulquiorra off, god that would not be lovely.’ you thought, standing up and beginning to walk towards the door frame but stopped in your tracks. ‘Wait, why do I even care if Ulquiorra gets pissed or not? God my mind is becoming scrambled eggs because of that pale feline eyed fuck’ you thought, as you continued to approach the door.

“Leaving so soon?” a raspy rough voice sounded behind you.

You thought it was Grimmjow at first, but you turned around to see a seven foot, skinny male with a toothy smile, worse than Grimmjow’s. He had an eyepatch and black hair, and a huge spoon-like sword behind him. ‘Great, a freakier freak than Grimmjow.’ You thought to yourself, staring at him. His smile faded, to a toothy frown. “Why so gloomy? Don’t you wanna have some fun sweetheart?” He asked, forming that creepy smile again. 

“I’m sorry but I have to go back to my room before Ulquiorra get’s back, I don’t wanna disappoint” you say, turning your back on him, as your h/l whip around along with it. He sonido’d right in front of you, leaning against the doorframe. “Oh so your Ulquiorra’s little pet, aren' cha? That’s adorable, he’s such a loner, I’d never think he’d decide to adopt a little scrawny girl like ya.” He said, leaning down to look at you.

“I am not his pet, nor do I take any interest in you.” you stated, walking past him. You wanted to take the intimidating route with this guy, hoping he would leave you alone. But this one was very annoying. He began to follow behind you. “What are you going to do, go have some fun with him? Gosh I should’ve known Ulquiorra was a dirty brat.” he said, letting out a laugh, I felt my face go really hot at the thought. ‘Don’t think of that’ you thought to yourself, before realizing the guy was now in front of you. “Oh did I fluster you? So am I right? You do know he symbolizes Emptiness, he doesn’t care about you.” he said, with this big smile on his face.

“Of course not, he said he would return in an hour, so I’m assuming I need to be there in an hour. Don’t be so vulgar.” You stated, trying to get the heat from your face to fade. The guy let the smile fade back into a frown, as you walked past him. “Well you're no fun, aren’t you.” he said, before turning around and walking back down the hall.

You eventually got to your room, opening it. Once you were in and the door shut, you collapsed into your bed. You began to curl yourself into a ball with the blankets, feeling tears begin to fall down your face. ‘I just want to go home… I don’t want to be here anymore.’ you thought, as you cried. You grabbed one of the pillows and pulled it close to you, snuggling it. “Ulquiorra, where are you when I need you?” you whispered to yourself, then started to sob into your pillow.

You weren’t exactly sure how long they’d been there, but you suddenly realized there was someone in the room. You pulled your head away from the pillow, to see the silhouette of Ulquiorra, until the moonlight shone over him. Your eyes narrowed, whether that be out of “oh shit” or relief. You just stared at each other for a few moments, until he finally spoke up

“What are you doing?” he said, in his cold monotone voice.

You sniffled a bit, before finally speaking up “Can’t you tell?! I’m fucking having a breakdown! I don’t want to be here anymore! Everyone else here are freaks!” you shrieked at him. You could easily tell he wasn’t expecting your outburst, and just stared at you curiously. 

“Everyone else? You do realize I fall into the category like the rest of them, I am an Espada, like the rest of them. Do not single me out, woman.” he stated coldly, before stepping over to the bed, looking down at you with his cold piercing stare.

He stared down at you, before unzipping his kimono. That caused your face to heat up and a trillion thoughts to rush through your head, but they were cut off as you realized he was just showing you his number; a small amount of disappointment washed over your face. ‘Why the hell am I disappointed?! God I’m such a dirty minded fuck’ you thought to yourself

“Ulquiorra Cifer, Cuatro Espada of Lord Aizen’s arrancar army. Whether you like that I’m in the same category as the others or not is none of my concern. I was ordered to take care of you, until Aizen decides what to do with you.” he stated coldly, without hesitation.

The words stung a bit, but honestly you expected it. The creepy tall spoon guy from earlier told you that he symbolized emptiness, so you can only expect it. But for some reason, despite him stating that he was ordered to take care of you, you still felt yourself go red faced again. Ulquiorra just stared at you, with a glimpse of confusion. 

Then a scoff sounds itself from Grimmjow, who was at the doorway. “You're tormenting the poor little kitten, Ulquiorra” he said, walking into the room. “Can’t you tell she was just crying? I know your emotionless and all but cut her some fucking slack” he said, walking in. Ulquiorra just stared at Grimmjow. You looked away from both of them, as you tighten your grip on the pillow. “Why are you here Grimmjow?” Ulquiorra asked, not a tint of any emotion in his monotone voice. Grimmjow’s smirk changed into a serious look. “Aizen’s requested your presence in his lair, we’ve got intruders. Orange haired fellow, big bulky buff guy, orange haired little girl, a nerd looking guy, and a short black haired girl, with shoulder length hair,” he said, breathing a bit before continuing. You just stood there shaking, realizing it was Ichigo and the others, and that dang black short haired girl.

“Aizen’s put her under my care until you return, don’t worry I’m not going to kill her. This has gotten into a serious matter because they broke past the first fortresses with ease.” he stated. Ulquiorra returned his gaze back to you, but this time it was a tiny, little bit softer, before sonido’ing away.

𝚂𝚘 𝚄𝚕𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚙𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚢 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗'𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚄𝚕𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚊 𝚒𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛! 𝙰𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 :>

[blueblood99-art]

"Flowers in spider webs" [1]

Harada x Burado (my OC, you can learn more about her here)

Summary: Burado-chan is a shinigami, who was destined to take Sanosuke's life. Unfortunate thing is that she fell in love with him.

Also a little disclaimer - English is not my native language, so if you find any mistakes in the text feel free to share, I always look forward to improve my writing skills ✨

____________________________

Summer 1856, Matsuyama.

"Hey, Harada, why are you hanging out? Is there no work at all?" shoved his comrade, who was dozing on the straw, into the back without malice, Shinichi laughed out loud.

He was older and taller than Sanosuke by almost a whole head, and had already killed his first man, which he constantly boasted about in the estate. Therefore, rubbing his bruised shoulder blade with displeasure, Harada cursed softly. If it were one of the younger guys, he would have expressed a couple of affectionate words a long time ago, or maybe he would have hit him. Everyone in the Matsuyama estate knew that he was a rare brawler and once again tried not to get into trouble. But Shinichi is quite another matter, all these dull years spent in the service of the Matsuyama family, he was almost like an older brother to him. The only one who could drive at least some common sense into Sanosuke's violent, adventurous head.

"Look, the hostess will see you and leave you without food again. You will ask, I will not give you a piece of my own!"

"Ah, let her find me first, and then we'll see," Sanosuke waved off, shamelessly yawning so that his mouth ached.

He dusts himself off and gets to his feet.

"A pity …" smiling conspiratorially, Shinichi plopped down in a pile of hay, crossing his legs. "They will punish you, then we will not go to the summer festival, you will clean the stables all day. And there are girls in colorful yukats, and there is a lot of food…

"What a fox you are!" Harada immediately started up, glaring angrily at his older comrade. "That's what you should have said right away!"

"Maybe. I was just waiting for you to open your eyes after sleeping", Shinichi laughed loudly, throwing up his chin and clutching his stomach.

______

The village, filled with laughter, the roar of ritual drums and the light of paper lanterns, met them in the midst of the festival. Impatiently following the smug Shinichi, who ostentatiously kept both hands on the hilt of a long sword, Sanosuke looked around with joyful anticipation. There were stalls with festive snacks like tricolor dango and takoyaki, festival masks and paper lanterns. Maybe it will even be possible to sit down with some already drunk company and drink plenty of sake at someone else's expense, as they sometimes did with comrades from the estate.

"This is Tamako," blushing embarrassedly, which suddenly made him look ridiculous, Shinichi nodded in the direction of the girl in pink yukata, who was waving at them from the stone bridge. " I'll be quick, just say hello. And you take a walk for now, see what interesting things there are here!"

"Pf, as if I didn't see something at these festivals," - Sano snorted, but immediately took pity on the would-be lover. This idiot hoped that now that he had begun to achieve any success in his military career, the girl's parents would allow her to become his wife. "I'll be nearby"

Slapping him on the shoulder one last time, Harada moved towards the kiosks with a wry smile. His friend's stupid desire to start a family seemed ridiculous to him. The girls really interested Harada a lot, with their thin, white hands, and what they had under the thick layers of kimonos was tempting for him, an unsolved mystery for the time being, but for some reason he was sure that it would not be for long.

Anticipating the summer fun, he did not notice how he knocked someone down. There was a soft groan in his ear. Staggering, Harada involuntarily put out his hand, grabbed the soft fabric. Looking up, he collided with someone else's eyes, amber-yellow, which sent a chill down his spine. In front of him stood a girl, very young, dressed in a black yukata and a simple festival mask with oni's face.

With a soft gasp, she looked at him for a while, glancing at the young man with unusual bright yellow eyes, and bent down, picking something up from the ground. Harada had just noticed the bright red festival umbrella with the face of a yokai made of oiled paper. As if not noticing him, the girl began to shake the umbrella from the dirt and stuck leaves of the yukata sleeves.

"I'm sorry…" she muttered to herself, either to Harada or to the umbrella.

The ugly face from the painted paper looked at him mockingly.

"Nothing, after all, I bumped into you"

"Yeah …" bowing, the girl moved on, as if looking for someone in the crowd.

For a while, as if fascinated, he watched the girl's slender figure disappear into the crowd. A white festival mask, worn over wild, curly hair, flashed between the tops of the heads. Like a dope, an unusual obsession in the form of a swarthy gaijin with unusual eyes. He had never met such a girl in his life, and even though she was different from everything that is considered beautiful, even from what he himself considered beautiful, the thought flashed through his head like lightning that he would never meet such a girl again. Aroused, Sanosuke did not come to himself immediately, finding that he was covered with goosebumps from head to toe. Wolfish yellow eyes frantically ran around the crowd, trying to make out a familiar silhouette. Without thinking for a second, he rushed headlong after her.

However, luck was not on his side. He managed to run around several blocks with endless kiosks and festive entertainment, even missed the launch of fireworks, but he could not find her. The mysterious girl seemed to disappear into thin air. Cursing, he clasped his hands in anger and plopped down on the wooden steps of the tea house. Covering his face with his hands, he could still see her mournful, swarthy face in small red freckles. Lost in time, Harada sat there for an eternity. Shinichi was probably already looking for him. Everything dissolved, it became so unimportant. He had never felt this way about a woman before.

"Are you going somewhere, beautiful?" A hoarse laugh from a dark alley caught his attention. Some already heavily drunk company of Ronins surrounded someone, not letting them pass.

"Why don't you have a drink with us, huh? We won't hurt you," another warrior, tall, as tall as Shinichi, guffawed.

They exchanged drunken, unkind glances. Sano visibly tensed. He was a scamp and a brawler himself, but he would never stoop to molesting women. It is the duty of any samurai to protect the weak.

"Take your hands off," an icy, insinuating voice coming from the gateway made him shudder. Everything inside turned cold. " I don't drink alcohol with strangers. Let me pass"

He didn't notice how he jumped to his feet. It was her, the girl.

"We'll just get to know each other better and you'll go about your business," the third ronin, who was already moving his tongue with difficulty, hooted. His big, swarthy hand clutched her sharp chin, forcing her to look into his drunken, glossy face.

"I said take your hands off," Gaijin growled through tightly clenched teeth, her fingers tightened on the handle of the umbrella, turning white. "Leave me alone if you don't want to regret it."

Two yellow eyes flashed unkindly, withstanding the evil, oblique gaze of the Ronins. She did not back away, did not ask for forgiveness in a frightened way and did not beg, recklessly straightening her back, as if she was ready to fight back.

"Gaijin arrogant bitch!" Before a huge, rough hand could hit her, Sanosuke rushed at ronin, grabbing him by the neck from behind. Without letting the drunk come to his senses, he kicked him under the knee.

The girl did not lose her head, snatched out an umbrella and loaded it on the head of another samurai, causing him to stagger with a loud cry and fall backwards to the ground. Throwing up an elegant thin leg, she kicked him on the back of the head, immediately knocking him out. Breathing heavily, Harada struggled with the savage ronin, hanging on his arm, preventing the warrior from drawing his sword. He didn't want him to stab the girl.

"On your right!" Gaijin shouted, warning Harada about the third drunkard's punch. "Look out!"

Swinging, she hit him between the eyes with the metal handle of the umbrella. Harada shoved his opponent in his direction, causing two drunken ronin to collide and to clumsily ploppe to the ground, preventing each other from getting up.

"Run," grabbing her by the hand, he rushed as fast as he could to the other end of the street, ignoring the loud, loud curses.

They ran forward, skirting narrow alleys and weaving between people until they were exhausted. Breathing heavily, Harada doubled over and put his hands on his knees. In the silence that followed, only his hoarse sighs could be heard.

"It seems they broke away from us," the girl, straightening the crumpled floors of the yukata, looked out of the dark alley into the noisy main street. The holiday was coming to an end, the merry crowd was already beginning to thin out, but there were no traces of drunken Ronins. She wasn't even sweating, she wasn't exhausted.

Sitting down next to him on the ground, Gaijin gently stroked the folded umbrella and said, "Are you okay, friend?"

"Ah, I-I 'm w-well, I wasn't even touched…" he broke off in embarrassment when he realized that she was saying this to the umbrella, and immediately blushed to the roots of his hair.

Smiling mockingly, the girl raised her head, measured him with a curious look.

"You didn't have to help me"

" Are you kidding? There were three of them!" Her emotionless reaction threw Harada into a real shock. Is that what she has instead of gratitude?

"So what?" She chuckled, putting her hands on her hips. At the same time, his eyes looked at him fervently, as if they were laughing. "You were in much greater danger"

"It would be polite just to say thank you," Sanosuke muttered, turning away. "By the way, my name is Harada. Harada Sanosuke, I serve the Matsuyama clan. And you?"

The simple polite question about the name seemed to upset her. Frowning, the girl abruptly got to her feet.

"A name has too much power to be called so recklessly. Besides, you have nothing to know it for, Harada Sanosuke," she said unexpectedly seriously, adjusting her festival mask. "We will never meet again"

She had already taken a step towards the main street, without even giving him time to recover.

Harada roused himself and grabbed her arm. Only now did he notice how cold the girl's small, calloused palm was. It was like an electric shock hit him. "I want to know who I saved. In… gratitude"

She seemed to be thinking for a couple of moments, which seemed like an eternity to Harada.

"Blood. My name is Katherine Blood"

"B… Burado?"

"Let it be Burado, if that's what you want. I have to go," pulling her hand out of his grasp, the girl who made such a strong impression on him left as if nothing had happened.

__________

"Ah, nasty mortal!" Tokabo Shigure cursed when they left the city. Covering her face with a bamboo hat, Burado remained unnoticed. Finally, once in the forest, she built a fire and warmed her chilled palms by the fire. Eternal cold was part of the curse that all souls who gave up their lives voluntarily were doomed to feel. "Stuck like a leaf. And you also charged me on the head!"

"Stop grumbling, you won't crumble from such nonsense," the girl chuckled and looked at the angry youkai. Stretching out his long black arms, her umbrella hovered over the fire.

"By the way, I'm almost five hundred years old!" Sigure shouted indignantly, his large pupil narrowed warily, and his ugly one-eyed muzzle became even scarier.

"We never found the soul, got into a fight, and I also crumpled!" youkai continued to spray. The less the hostess paid attention to him, the angrier he became. "At this rate, I will not work off my debt until the arrival of the Last Judgment! Emma-sama, give me strength with this girl!"

"Didn't you feel it, Sigure?" She grinned, twirling the oni mask in her hands. Swarthy fingers fingered the red ribbons. "This Sanosuke. He's on our list. In twelve years he will die"

"What's the use of that? Souls need to be collected now, fresh and warm!" He pulled out a long yellow tongue in anticipation. The girl just clicked irritably.

This mortal with his yellow wolf eyes did not leave her mind. He was… so alive. Young and full of energy, the gods alone know what lies ahead of him. Twelve years is a very short time by the standards of an ordinary person. He was so kind to her, and he looked at her like no one else before. Would she have to take his life, too?

_______________

"Everything will be fine, the pain will recede soon," she picked up the body of a tall young samurai, handsome and young. His chest was pierced by a quick, precise blow right to the heart, and bright red blood was oozing from his pale, bluish lips. The girl gently lowered him to the ground, not paying attention to the fact that blood soaked the floors of her yukata, soiled her hands. She stroked the young man's hair, conjuring up visions of his mother's warm hands at the last moment of his life. "You were a good man, Shinichi. I'll give you an easy death"

With trembling fingers, the girl pulled off the oni mask from the top of her head, covering her face. Her bright yellow eyes lit up in the heavy, night darkness of the city, and her hair turned white.

"Toukabo Shigure, come on," she held out her hand, summoning the damn umbrella.

He opened his wide mouth in anticipation. Waving an umbrella, Burado cut off Shinichi's soul from his body. Suddenly the wheezing stopped and his eyes closed. With a loud sigh of relief, Shinichi breathed his last.

"Done," Burado finished and got to her feet. Shinichi's blood dripped from the sleeves of her black yukata. "He has a long journey ahead of him. Emma-sama, be merciful!"

"You look upset, did you feel sorry for the little man?" Shigure chuckled, taking the form of an ordinary umbrella.

She sighed heavily, looking at the mask in her hands.

"I despise people", putting the mask on, the girl saw every corner of the mortal's soul, every minute of his life and sins. "But this one was a good man. Taking his life was not a pleasure for me"

"Shinichi! Where are you, Shinichi?"

A familiar voice made her freeze in place. It was the same man, Harada Sanosuke.

Emerging from the alley, he stared in shock at the blood-stained yukata, and then at the body of his friend at the girl's feet. The samurai himself was covered in blood. They got into a fight with hostile samurai and managed to split up. Burado looked at the young man a little wearily, wondering if he had heard her last words. The two were friends.

"Did you kill him?!" clenching his teeth, he gripped the spear shaft until his fingers turned white. "Do you work with them?!"

"I don't care what's going on here," she replied in a calm, sorrowful voice, but she didn't deny her guilt. "But I took your friend's life"

"W… why, Burado—chan?" What did he do to you? his voice trembled with ill—suppressed anger.

The girl shuddered at the mention of the ridiculous nickname in the Japanese manner that he had given her just a week ago. Wearing the mask, she saw Harada Sanosuke in the memories of his comrade. He was cheerful, reckless, full of life. And so kind. It is said that seeing a person off on his last journey, the reaper of death lives his life. Seeing Harada through Shinichi's eyes, she felt like she had known him for a long time. As if she valued him as much as his friend. That's why it was even more painful to see anger and disappointment on a beautiful young face.

"I'm sorry… Harada-kun," was all shinigami could say, swallowing a heavy lump. "Now go to sleep"

Suddenly she was behind the spearman, running icy fingers through the hair on the back of her head. As soon as she touched Sanosuke, he felt his head begin to feel heavy.

________________________

"What?! To return to Jigoku? And who will fulfill the debt?!" Sigure was indignant when the girl, white as a sheet, was walking along a forest path towards the mountains. After that encounter with a mortal, she seemed to be not herself, hardly spoke. "Stupid girl!!"

She just sighed heavily. Mr. Hozuki won't be thrilled when he sees her at the door of his office. In her head, she could hear a voice, joyful laughter, and before her eyes stood Harada's smiling, full of life and youth.

"Shinichi, well, you've aged! A couple more years, and I'll catch up with you! "

"Let's help, it's not for a samurai to watch others suffer"

" Yes, I can drink even more than you! "

Burado felt her head gradually splitting, as she felt sick. She needed a break.

[unohanadaydreams]

As the name suggests, I'm always thirsty for the Big Guy 😉 I wonder how Kenpachi would react if Ikkaku found a piece of your lingerie in the barracks, but no one knew about your relationship?

The idea of Kenpachi being viewed as sus for fucking a 4th member fuels me so ofc. This got out of hand but I fully blame the energy IkkaYumi brings to anything ever and not myself. Thank you for understanding.

Features: smut (18+) at the mid-point, IkkaYumi being real <3 for the majority of it, and sub!Kenpachi (☆ω☆), also idk maybe some minor angst but like made Seggsy.

Kenpachi Zaraki x f!reader (and IkkaYumi...mostly them tbh.)

Ikkaku slapped the door open with loudest ‘OI’ he could muster. The paper of the door ripped somewhere along the way as it slid open, the wooden frame wobbling as he stepped into the room.

Despite the noise, Yumichika’s hand stayed steadfast as he finished smudging eye shadow on his outer lid. Another ‘OI’ sounded, but no hand shook him or foot kicked at him while Yumichika held a brush to his eye.

Glacial, he finished blending the color until he was satisfied--rinsed the brush--set it to dry. Through the mirror in front of him, Yumichika looked to Ikkaku’s reflection only after admiring his own.

The lacy scrap of undies in Ikkaku’s hand lifted Yumichika’s brow.

“I thought you hated when I wore those,” he said with a sniff, turning to get a better look.

Ikkaku rubbed at his bald head, “yah think that because I do.”

Yumichika gestured for the undies and Ikkaku threw them. “And yet?”

“Yet, I found ‘em anyway!” Ikkaku fell into a wide squat, his hands fisting into the fabric of his uniform over his knees. “In the captain’s office.”

They stared at one another, both settling deeper into their feelings.

“Ikkaku, you must be joking,” Yumichika said, holding the undies against his arm. “This color makes me look positively jaundiced.”

“You think captain gives a shit about color theory?”

Yumichika threw the lacy bit of bullshit at Ikkaku’s face. Smiling when they landed on his dumb, shiny head. “He won’t even let me do his hair, Ikkaku. Your delusion is exhausting me.”

“Then--”

“Yes, Ikkaku. Then, they’re not mine. And they’re someone else’s.”

Ikkaku pulled the undies from his head, squinting at them. “Huh.”

Rising with a flourish, Yumichika let the sleeves of his robe billow behind him as he went for the cabinet to rummage for sake. Possibly a new boyfriend.

He came back after a few gulps, offering Ikkaku the bottle only after giving him a sound kick to the head that sent the man flopping to the side.

“Hey!” Ikkaku steadied himself with one hand and rubbed where he’d been kicked with the other...undies still in hand. “Ya can’t blame me. No one else around here would wear that shit.”

Yumichika gave a flat look. Took another gulp of sake. Sighed heavily as he sank to Ikkaku’s level.

“Which means they belong to someone who would,” Yumichika offered along with the sake. “Someone from a different division.”

“Must be serious,” Ikkaku said, sake dribbling down his chin. “Never found anything in his office...ever.”

Yumichika kissed at the trail of sake and took the bottle back once he’d settled into Ikkaku’s lap. “That means whoever it is will be back. And now we know what to look for.”

Ikkaku grunted, shoving his tongue in Yumichika’s mouth before the man in his lap could swallow his sake, not pulling away until he’d swiped as much alcohol with his tongue as he could.

“That shit ain’t good enough for you, anyway.”

“I know,” Yumichika said softly, tone at odds with him rising to stand, heading for the door.

“O--” A raised hand stalled Ikkaku from pointing to his tightened hamaka.

“Fix my door first, dumbass.”

@

Ikkaku lowered from his tip-toes, a man afflicted. “No way.”

“I told you,” Yumichika said in a hiss. “Not just from 4th division, but a pencil pusher.”

You looked like the kind who’d scramble to bring an 11th division soldier any impossible request they bullied you for. The quintessential mouse every self-respecting soldier was inclined to paw at.

“Don’t look so fucking smug, Yumi,” Ikkaku grumbled, peeling off the wall and pulling Yumichika back towards the training grounds by the back of the puffed-up peacock’s uniform, right at the lower back. Yumichika had just gotten his fifth pay-back punch in when they hit the gate that separated captain’s estate from training ground.

Theirs might have been the only captain so enamored with battle that he’d moved his quarters as close as the captain general would allow. If it weren’t for the bullshit ‘housing codes and regulations’, Ikkaku was sure the house would’ve been on top of the large rectangle of packed dirt that served as the largest training ground in the entire division. 

Once they’d hopped the low wall, more meant to keep Zaraki’s house away from the grounds than to keep his underlings on the grounds away from him, Yumichika fell on the nearest bench to fix his uniform.

“Well now what?” Ikkaku rubbed at his side, knowing he was going to need to stretch soon or the tight knot Yumichika had punched into his side or even a night drowned in sake wouldn’t numb it when he collapsed in his futon.

Yumichika didn’t look up from retying his stiff, decorative obi but his face softened, “Now that we’ve been successfully nosy? I was thinking that new, chic sushi bar near the 1st. The one where all the wait-staff look just as yummy.”

“No I, mean--yeah, we’re definitely going,” Ikkaku said, his previous thought tripping over the vision of pretty smiles from androgynous beauties. “But, what do we do about the captain?”

“Well, I’m not going to say anything, but I also have tact. And grace,” Yumichika shrugged, fluffing the bow of obi.

Ikkaku kicked dirt and tensed forward at the shoulders, like he planned to lunge and attack. “I ain’t no fucking snitch and you know it. Don’tcha?”

Sliding forward, Yumichika massaged at Ikkaku’s tense shoulders, rolling his eyes. “I wasn’t saying you would. Just that you’re tactless. And might on accident--which makes you an idiot, not a snitch.”

“Damn right,” Ikkaku grunted, anything but Yumichika’s agreement sliding off his bald head like water. “Wouldn’t snitch for anything. But what if someone else finds out? Like a captain or something. We can’t kill one of them and--”

“Oh, stop worrying about it,” Yumichika said, interrupting and pulling at Ikkaku’s arm--he was hungry, both for refined food and beauties. “No one who wants to live will chance Kenpachi asking for a fight. Or that Captain Unohana; she seems vicious in a way more of our men should be. Such grace.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right,” Ikkaku nodded, letting himself be dragged off for sushi, sake, and sublime wait-staff. Still, there was morale to think about. No hardened warrior of the rukongai wanted to hear their fearless leader had a weakness for...the weak.

There had to be something more to it but Ikkaku wasn’t going to dig more into his captain’s business. He was more than happy to put the shovel down and follow Yumichika, even as the truth sat uncomfortably at the base of his skull.

@

You were weak in all the ways shinigami measured such things--swordsmanship, spiritual pressure, and kido were subjects you studied more than you practiced, let alone pulled off. But you had enough power to pass school and be sorted into the 4th division ranks, where you excelled.

An aptitude for medical procedure, surgery, and technology was what garnered you not just safety, but respect among your peers.

As for the other divisions? Well, you had some friends in 12th who fully understood your position.

Kenpachi Zaraki? Certainly wasn’t someone who could relate to you.

But, that was fine.

You preferred your men muzzled, anyway.

“Too bad, Cap--tain,” you breathed, stretching his title with your tongue playfully. “I was hoping they’d find out everything.”

Pulling yourself up, one fist over the other, by the leather leash tied taunt around Kenpachi’s neck, you delighted in seeing the muscles there strain to accommodate your weight and the need for breath at the same time.

You pressed your lips against his ear after admiring the rough line of his mouth being forcibly split open by a ball gang, pretty, pink, and yours. “Can’t you go faster?”

His answering grunt was followed by his body pressing into yours quick enough turn your teasing into moans. That’s what you liked most about Kenpachi; he was always striving to be better and exceeding expectation.

it would be effortless for him to put his hands on you without permission or rip out the ball gag, but he didn’t. Even when you met in a grimy bar close to the 11th, too drunk to realize who’s thigh you were toying with, his attention to what you wanted was surprising.

You panted, toes curling as he hit that lovely spot only he ever had, “H-hands on hips.”

So eager, he kneaded from the tops of your thighs to your hips like dough, obviously glad to be rewarded. You were eager too--for the angle. Your hips tilted upward gave him more depth and your fingers tightened on his leash.

There was no need to command for more, because he was giving you his all. And he kept going until your scattered breathing paired with the tight heat he was pounding into you snapped all at once, so intense that your eyes watered.

While you basked in the trembling after shocks, catching your breath, Kenpachi went still.

Until you said, “Sit on floor.”

The bed creaked and rose as he left it, leaving you to collect yourself in peace. When you rose to sit, he was kneeling on the floor, his cock hard and bobbing above his thighs.

You walked to him slow, nails scratching through his rough, black hair as you circled behind him. “Such good work,” you praised, “Just like always.”

Trailing down to the buckle, your fingers made quick of his ball gag, parting it from his teeth gently, and tossing it on the bed.

“What do you want me to reward you with, Kenpachi?” You asked him, only once you’d come to face him, your hand urging his jaw up, his eyes on yours.

“To get off,” he said, shameless.

You hummed, “then do it.”

Frowning, Kenpachi leaned his face into your touch. “I want you to.....please.”

The word ‘please’ was said slow, his eyes leaving yours several times before he said it. You wondered how many people Kenpachi Zaraki had ever asked, for anything. Let alone, with manners.

You kissed his nose, finding the almost demure behavior cute, “Then I will. Lay down.”

He did, his arms behind his head, like he napping under a tree instead of waiting for your hands to give his weeping cock relief.

You took your time, teasing him with sensation by spitting into your hand and giving him light rubs, again and again until his hips lifted off the ground.

The lacy bit of pink undies that stretched tight over his thighs, were yours too. And you peeled them off, throwing them toward the ball gag as his breathing grew heavy in the air.

Perhaps you deserved less teasing, but you couldn’t resist dragging out the fun a touch more, one hand fondling his tightening balls while the other scratched lightly at his inner thighs.

His breathing was catching on groans and audible ‘ah’s that had you biting your lip. Thigh’s clenching, you finally began circling the tip of his cock. Soon, you were giving him his first pump, slick hand trailing his length from tip to base in smooth, steady motions.

Straddling his thighs, you took advantage of the position and put both your hands to work, gripping him harder but keeping the same pace.

“Look how hard you are,” you cooed, hands pausing as your thumb circled the slit topping the bulbous head of his cock. “Do you want to cum for me?”

His, “yes,” was immediately pushed from his heaving chest. You hummed, so tempted to climb on top of him fully. But, that would be a kind of weakness you didn’t allow yourself.

Kenpachi’s lone eye struggled to stay open as you lowered your lips to kiss the tip of him. You rose back up and licked them as he watched, his pre-cum salty as it settled on your tongue.

You couldn’t call him unraveling under your firm, fast touch seeing him at his weakest. But, you were certain it was a kind of vulnerable he seldom experienced. Even his arms had come from behind his head, his fingers flexing around air while he struggled to keep them away from you. His hips began bucking with such strength that you were forced to tighten your thighs around his to keep your place.

Desperate, is what he was. For you to give him what he worked for.

And, you did.

His cock pulsed as you wrung his orgasm out, thick ropes of cum falling over his sweaty stomach and dripping down your hands. His moan was loud, deep, and reverberated through out the room like a cry of victory.

You kept stroking him until he was completely spent, until he made a sound almost like a whine.

“I need--”

He sat up, setting you on the floor before padding to the bathroom, and coming back with a damp cloth. “Here.”

“Thank you,” you said, keeping your eyes on your hands as you willed yourself to calm down. His orgasm had made you want him again, badly. But you had things to do. He had things to do.

What you had with Kenpachi was strange and tenuous. And your smug confidence drained a bit as you cleaned yourself and him, until you were almost unsure.

What now? You’d never even seen his house before this. Always in more public places, where you parted almost immediately after playing with him.

“You want these back,” he asked, lifting the ball gag and undies in one hand while pulling back the blankets on the bed with the other. The leash was already on the bedside table, his neck angrily red still.

If you took them, you wondered if it was all over. “No, you should. They’re easy enough to clean.”

“...You sure?”

You nodded, not so attached to a couple cheap props that you’d be wounded if something happened to them. “They’re all yours.”

Shrugging after a moment of silence, he gestured with his head to the bed, “unless you wanna take a shower first.”

“I’m fine for now,” you responded, climbing under the blanket, more confused than obedient. “Are you tired?”

“Enough to sleep.”

The bed dipped from his bulk, forcing you closer. He tossed an arm around you, so you could get comfortable against his side. You lay your head on his chest, eyes still open, listening to him breathe.

At first, you’d thought maybe it was all a joke. That Kenpachi Zaraki was trying to trap you into....something, like those men who feigned nice before using all their muscle to force you to bend as they wanted. To teach you a lesson for trying to dominate him.

You didn’t delude yourself into thinking you had real, tangible power of him or any man you’d toyed with, after all. Just something momentary, like a brief understanding.

But you felt less cautious as your eyes drooped shut and your thoughts circled around his intentions. He always approached you and asked, vague and gruff, ‘here good?’ And you’d find a closet or office or twisty alley that would do.

This time, you asked him. And he took you to his bedroom, compliant as ever, waiting for you to sprinkle nice words in his ear, for you to give him pleasure for being his best.

Drifting off to the rise and fall of his chest, you wondered if things like that meant so much to him.

[asukaskerian]

monthly word count : december

TOTAL: 8 799 words. POSTED: nop! IN PROGRESS -naruto: cherry wine chapter 6 (4 948 words) -bleach: pack ABO (535 words) -bleach: suburban ot4 (3 316 words) also posted but written earlier : cherry wine : days on a wire chapter 5 ... well, christmas time is always busy. :X Teasers!

-- naruto ABO -- "Shame on you, Madara-dono, not keeping your sweet brother company." Madara harrumphed, arms crossed with a touch of deliberately overdone defensiveness -- then met Izuna's eyes, and... Well, that was an opening. "You're right, shameful of me," he agreed, and leaned over the tea set to hook his brother by the neck and haul him close, forcing Izuna to hop, bent in two, over priceless old cups, and crumple against his side. When his brother laughed again it was more real, he thought. Madara tucked him against his flank, sleeve draped over his shoulders, and made sure it looked like light-hearted teasing and nothing else. "There, fixed." "Smothering me in your armpit is not fixing it!" Izuna protested, sitting up straighter, but then found a comfortable spot and leaned into him again, even as he felt around his head and made faces. "Niisan, my hair." Madara gave him a smug look. "It looks better like that." "It looks like yours like that, and that's not a compliment!" "Not to worry, Izuna-sama," Toyotomi Senior laughed. "You still need a little more volume before it gets that far." Madara harrumphed. "This sounds like some people being unappreciative of my hair." "We wouldn't dare." "It might eat us if we did." Izuna cackled in his hand, body loosening a little more. Madara straightened up, arching both eyebrows and smirking toothily, mostly because it amused his brother, though the half-coy half-challenging look on the girl probably ought to be encouraged if he didn't want to be dragged down into somber political talk all over again. "Your name, dinner-to-be?" She dropped into a low seated bow, made it cheeky somehow. "Taketori Hanao, Madara-sama. And Madara-sama's hair. This one hopes she will not impede your digestion with too many hairpins." -- bleach ABO -- "Yeah, I -- hm. I wonder if you could wear my shinigami kimono?" Grimmjow must make a face because Kurosaki instantly continues; "the underlayer, not the black stuff? Just -- just the underlayer." ... That look on Kurosaki's face. All flushed and dazed. Over imagining him in some cloth? He's naked and wet right now. He's not sure if it's more flattering or hilarious. "... Or I could ask Urahara," Grimmjow says, like he's seriously thinking about it. "He's got to have some--" "I will tear them off with my teeth." Kurosaki's eyes are a bit wild, a bit like he's laughing but in a pretty despairing way. He's already fighting the knot of his belt. "Don't do that to me, please, I will beg." Grimmjow's lips twitch. "Hmm? Will you now? That's interesting..." Kurosaki gives him a betrayed glare, even though his mouth tries to smile. "You fucker. You're lucky you're so hot." He drops his mess of a kimono top on the floor, starts pulling the white underlayer free from his hakama. "Blackmailing me with your, your wiles--" Kurosaki cracks up. Grimmjow follows him. It's such a stupid moment, exhaustion and the fallout of adrenaline and a shit-ton of happy heat hormones. "Oh yeah, that's me," he manages to reply a few seconds too late, wheezing, even as Kurosaki pushes close to drape his shirt on him. "I'm really... wily." Is he surprised when they end up kissing? Not really. Kurosaki's hands are on his bare shoulders, pretending to hold the white kimono in place but really just grabbing at him. Grimmjow's hands are slipping in the slits at his hips under the belt, exposing skin now that the white cotton is gone. Surely there's time for a quickie. Yeah. "Boss," Yylfordt interrupts. "Boss, that shinigami is downstairs." -- suburban ot4 -- They manage to get through two thirds of the bento box while chatting about Nel's adventures in translating soapland brochures into dual German and Spanish before they get accosted by his students again. "Ooh Spanish!" "Do you speak Spanish? That's a little cool. French is better though. It's deluxe." "Where's Spain again?" "Are you from Spain?" "Are you half?" Ichigo is so damn glad the soapland part was implied thanks to previous awareness and not said out loud. They'd go straight from 'ohh, a porno bathhouse!' in tones of wisdom imparted to 'how do you say "happy ending" in French' or something like that. His boys are only twelve but everything that grosses them out is immediately fascinating and hilarious, especially if it pisses off the adults. "Stop!" Nel orders, hand raised palm up. The surprise actually makes them quiet down. She points. "Yes, question one!" "Are you half Spanish!" "No! I'm half German! I speak Spanish because I had friends who were half-hispanic! Next, question two!" "Me, me! Do you speak French?!" "No! My boyfriend does! But mostly bad words! It sounds super good even when he's being really rude!" "Oooh, your boyfriend's French, why haven't you married him!" "He's not French actually! He's German-French-Japanese-Brazilian! So that makes the baby how many percent Japanese...?" "Seventy-three percent?" "Fourteen!" "A half and half?" "Not a lot." "Thirty percent?" "It's three eighths, just as many eighths as German, which makes -- how much, Ichigo?" Betrayed, he splutters. "Like I know! I don't do maths! Ugh." His phone does though. "Thirty-seven point five percent. That was a trick question, I bet you didn't know either." "I knew in Portuguese," she replies sagely. Ichigo doesn't even think twice before he rubs her skull with his knuckles. Nao saves the bento box somehow. Nobody saves Ichigo from Nelliel's retaliatory kick to his knee. -- "No suffixes, huh? It's good to be young," Sakakibara-sensei, sitting by the open window, comments with avuncular, amused disapproval. Ugh. Yeah, yeah, he knows, he's gonna hear about that for a month. Does Ichigo get to reach his desk before everybody and their cow makes a comment on his suspicious closeness with his guest, though? Looks like not. "She calls my wife Hime-chan, so hey, I don't mind too much. It was either my first name or something ridiculous like Strawberry in Spanish."

[shi-daisy]

Is it Aizen thirsting hours? 👀 I just find it fun when you gush about him.

Anon sweetie, IN THIS BLOG IT IS ALWAYS AIZEN THIRSTING HOURS!!!

I'm glad you enjoy my gushing, but you might not after this because I am about to unleash all of the reasons why I absolutely love this man into one ask!

Okay so my first impression of Aizen wasn't much. He is exactly my type in terms of looks and personality (Brunette, Brown eyes, glasses, soft spoken, shy, nerdy, gentle) I thought he was an absolute cutie and liked him a lot as a Captain.

Look at this beautiful face! I want to cover it in kisses! 😍 I loved how he immediately shot down Byakuya's bullshit and how he was polite yet firm. It's a nice mix.

But then...'he died' and I was soooo sad. I cried the first time I saw that scene and completely understood Momo when she snapped due to him dying. Girl, same! 😭

Once he came back and he was revealed to be the villian tho, I loved him even more! Okay tbh I hated what he did to Momo because she's baby and I love her too but it kinda makes sense from a writing standpoint.

Aizen knows she's only loyal to who he pretended to be, and it was only a matter of time before she turned against him should he take her with him as an ally. On the other hand she was so loyal that leaving her alive after this reveal was gonna drive her insane. So I think he might be thought it would be a mercy kill to get rid of her after the reveal. It's so twisted but it makes sense and oof the angst potential for it is awesome. Kubo why didn't you give us Aizen's pov damnit!!!

Anyway boy goes up to the shinigami chumps announces he's played them all like cheap kazoo bitches and leaves like a boss and that's when l knew he was going to be my favorite!

👏 GIVE👏HIM👏THE👏 THRONE 👏NOW! This man is a million times the king that crystal bish ever was!!! I wanted to see him win so fuckin bad.

While I'm one of the few peeps who loved the bount filler arc, I missed Aizen a lot. Once we got back to canon he was back and I was sooo happy!

The fake Karakura arc is a mess but just having Aizen back was enough for me to forgive it. Baby boy is back and I'm living! He is so smug and chill during the whole thing and almost killed the head captain which yessssss do ittttt!!! And then defeats everyone like it isn't even hard omg I was swooning so much. He's so freaking perfect!!!

I wanna run my hands through that hair, and pull it too 😏 That angry face does things to me!

I love his intelligence and how it was only a fuckin lucky plot contrivance that took him down. He's unstoppable, unyielding, he'll stop at nothing to dethrone the king and I just cried so loud when got sealed I think my fam thought I was dying (yes father I'm dying inside 😭)

Thankfully I got one last present before the arc ended and it a beautiful one

Sub bondage Aizen is my fave thing in the world and I probably developed 10 diffrent kinks from this alone! Look at him. He's bound yet looks so in control and the way his pretty hands strapped to the chair just 💖💖💖 I wanna sit on his lap, I wanna kiss him, I wanna bite him and have him whipering while bound it's just sooo 😍😍😍 Can't even describe how much I love this.

Also he totally sasses the judges and it was glorious! Yes babe, you tell em who's boss! Get rekt Central 46! I love this scene.

I'm not touching on the blood arc cuz I hate it and Aizen was done so dirty then, he should be the new soul king, and I'll go down saying that but he was hella hot just hypnotizing the bitch replacement villian and wrecking his plans. It's almost as if he knows nobody is gonna replace him as best villain. They just can't he's that goddamn good!

But all that thirsty joking aside, I love Aizen because he was right. He was absolutely right about everything. He was proven right by every canon arc, filler arc, ova and videogame that the Soul Society was a flawed, unfair, and useless organization that did more harm than good. Think about it, the poverty in Rukon that they never fixed, the absolute authority of the Central 46 which was the reason his initial plan went over everyone's head, the corrupt nobles families that get away with everything, the unethical nature of Squad 12 (started by Urahara mind you, who thought putting that disgusting Mayuri in charge was a good thing!), the horrid treatment of bounts, mod souls, fullbringers and Quincy which led to many villians swearing revenge on Soul Society, you look at all of this, at the fact that no one lifted a finger to fix this things except arguably Ichigo and then tell me Aizen wasn't right. That he wasn't right to want to take over and change all of this. He got proved right by the ending, that nothing was gonna change, that those who could try and change it had zero interest in doing so.

So if he wanted change he had to so it himself, and the only way to do so unopposed by the corrupt government, nobles and judicial system, was to tower over them as the king of all.

I love that about him, I love how he was right all along and quite honestly I would've loved to see him succeed in canon rather than having to write fic for that myself.

To summarize, Aizen is a gorgeous man, a genius, the only person that was willing to change the soul societies politics and deserved better than what he received. Hope you liked this lengthy answer, anon! It was fun to write.

[ramblingkat]

The Undead

So, this is months late, but I don’t care. Have some more Monstrous May. This is for day 9: The Undead

Fandom: Bleach

***

The time was finally here.

He looked at Aizen, who was watching all of them. Not from the spot they all thought, but that was fine. Kisuke knew the man was probably so smug that he had tricked them.

Kisuke was better attuned to track the man any way.

Though it appeared that Ichigo was also confused. He was glancing at Aizen, and then around as if trying to figure out what was going on.

The plan had been to wait, let Isshin and Yoruichi battle him and wear him down.

But the pulse of revengerevengerevenge was beating too strongly in Kisuke’s chest. Just as it has been since he had woken up on the floor of his cell, covered in vomit and aware that something was Wrong.

Not that it had been something he could focus on at the time. He had more important things to do, and his guards didn’t seem to notice anything off. They had only washed him off to take him to his trial. Which had gone poorly and he had more important things to deal with other than what was wrong with him.

Over the years, he had done his research. It had to be careful, because if the others had figured out what he was researching, he would have worried them.

He was going to hurt them in the end. Better to let them have the good memories now.

For years, Kisuke had managed to keep his secret, safe and quiet in his chest. It beat there along with the urge to murder, to take his revenge on the man who had taken everything from him.

So now that he saw him, the urge to do just that was too strong to ignore.

Kisuke blurted, pushing himself to the extreme. There was screams and yells as he landed, people torn between moving to help and  scattering as something large landed from the sky.

He looked down at the frightened eyes of Hinomori. Everything told him that it was the sad little lieutenant of the 5th looking up at him.

But in his core, the force that drove him, that wanted to finish that revenge, it knew who was pinned under him. That was not some simple sense, able to be tricked by someone else’s magic. This was a primal force of magic, something that warped the very laws of reality to enable the weapons it created.

With a snarl, Kisuke leaned down and ripped Aizen’s throat out with his teeth.

A zanpakuto drove into his back, but Kisuke ignored it. That wasn’t important at this point. No, what was important was the blood in his mouth, Aizen’s blood. The way the other flailed, his illusions starting to fail as he bled.

Rearing his head back, Kisuke spit the mouthful of flesh and blood to the side. Then he curled in, mouth dropping lower.

The taste of the Hogyoku on his tongue was a sizzle of power, vision whiting out for a moment as he knocked aside the hands that tried to push his head away. Then Kisuke

Bit.

Down.

The Hogyoku, along with the flesh that surrounded it, came away in his mouth. Instinct drove him, and Kisuke swallowed. It hurt as he did as if he was swallowing a lump of hot coal, drinking something of flame and pain.

Under him, Aizen screamed as best he could through a mangled throat. The man’s skin was not knitting together, not smoothing back into perfect flesh.

In Kisuke, the Hogyoku flared, and he screamed in pain as the two powers in his chest battled.

The blade in his back vanished, and he hoped it was from the person wielding it pulling it free, not him destroying it by accident. That would have been rude. Even if they had stabbed him first.

Under his hands, Aizen was dying. Kisuke lifted his head, still crouched over the man, looking down at him.

“You shouldn’t have killed me,” he said with a snarling smile. “This, you brought down on yourself.”

Aizen’s eyes were full of confusion and fear. The man who would be god was confused and scared of death.

Good.

Kisuke watched as the life in the man’s eyes flickered and faded. Eventually, it was gone completely.

Still, he watched. Long enough to know for sure.

Then he sat up and screamed all his anger out.

He had avenged his own death. It tasted sweet.

Turning his head, he found himself looking into Rangiku’s eyes.

“Tell them I am sorry,” he said.

Then the force that had kept him moving for the last century spluttered out, and Kisuke fell.

***

Ichigo wasn’t sure what was going on. Not really. He had come out and struck Aizen, only to have him pretty much laugh as Zangetsu had bounced off his kido ward. Then a lot of stuff happened, and it wasn’t Aizen looking down at them anyone, it was Hinomori.

Then Urahara popped up and everything went mad.

He watched as the man appeared from nowhere and Ichigo could only barely track the flash step that he used to slam into where Aizen was on the ground. Then….

Ichigo had to glance away. That was…ew. He had not expected Urahara to use his teeth like that. It made his stomach squirm in a way that was distinctly uncomfortable.

He glanced back as the blond screamed. Uncertain on what was going on, Ichigo glanced around at everyone. They all seemed to be confused. Especially Rangiku, who….

Had she stabbed Urahara?

That that it seemed to bother the man. He sat up, half sitting on Aizen’s legs, half crouched over the man. His face was covered with blood, hat nowhere to be found. The man looked wild, a smile that was all teeth clear even from where Ichigo was. Then Kisuke had said something to Rangiku and….slumped.

As if everything had suddenly turned off, Urahara went limp, eyes still half-open as he hit the ground.

Ichigo had never moved so fast in his life.

He slid to a stop, just as Yoruichi joined him. And…his dad?

Who was in a Shinigami uniform?

What?

Ichigo’s head was reeling as he was trying to take everything in. Urahara limp as Yoruichi and his dad starting working on them. A moment later, Shinji was there with Hiyori in his arms.

“What the fuck,” said the older Visored, staring down at Urahara as if he had never seen the man before. Which Ichigo could understand.

Urahara was always in control of things. Even when he was being a brat, teasing Ichigo while training him, Ichigo knew the man had a plan for things. There was always vibrant energy around him, something that crackled and raged.

Ichigo had always thought it was Benihime, given the way Kisuke talked about her.

Seeing him like this, so very still and…empty…..

Was Urahara dead?

Then Unohana was there, and she shoved all of them aside. “Clear the area,” she told them, voice harsh. “If he wakes up, none of you will be safe. Not at first.”

As much as he wanted to argue, Ichigo found himself being pushed back with the others. When Unohana decided something, nobody wanted to argue with him.

“What is going on?” he hissed at Shinji.

The other man frowned, focus obviously inwards. Then he frowned more. “Later, Ichigo. I got an idea, but if it’s the case, ya don’t want to be there if Kisuke wakes up.”

He nudged Ichigo, then flat out shoved him at Isshin. Who caught Ichigo and the world blurred around them.

Okay, if he couldn't get answers about Urahara then he’d get them about Isshin, and what the hell was going on around here.

***

Waking up was…unexpected. From everything he researched, once he had gotten his revenge, Kisuke was supposed to return to being dead once again. Not waking up in what appeared to be the Shoten.

“Well, you are calmer than I had imagined you would have been,” came a familiar voice, if not what he normally heard in his territory. He glanced to the side and saw that Unohana was sitting beside him, her Zanpakuto sheathed at her side.

Not that her weapon being there would have stopped her from putting him down if she needed to. Kisuke had seen her use Kido.

“I hadn’t expected to wake up at all,” he admitted, carefully sitting up. Careful for two reasons. First, he didn’t know what to expect from his body. It ached, but less like he had hurt himself, more like he had just had a long spar.

Second reason to be careful was that he had no idea how Unohana would react to him moving. She was one of those from before the system was put together. Who knew what was roaming around before the Shinigami organized and became the force they were now.

And revenants were frightfully close to Hollows.

Unohana smiled slightly. “It has been known to happen. If one of your kind takes in a new power source before the one pushing for revenge fades, it can replace it.” She tilted her head. “I would stay silent about what it was you once were. Only a few of us recognized what you had become, but we also know you did us a great service in dealing with Aizen.”

She studied him, eyes cool and collected, a hint of violence in the depths.

In a way, it was nice to get her respect enough that she’d allow him to see the latter.

“We should spar at some point, Urahara-san. I believe it would be most entertaining.”

Okay, getting her respect was also a lot terrifying.

“Please make the most of your second chance,” the woman added, standing gracefully. “If you wish, contact me at some point and I would be happy to help tell you about some of the talents you are likely to see as you age. Those such as you are very rare, and not much is written.”

Then she smiled, one that was actually tinged with humor instead of being terrifying. “Though I think it will be fun to watch as you have to explain to your friends about what it is that you are.”

Definitely a lot of terrifying having her focus. How did Kenpachi deal with it all the time?

***

Kisuke had debated how he should do this. First, he grabbed Tessai and Yoruichi. They deserved to know, more than anymore.

Plus, with just the two of them, neither of the others would feel like they had to hide their reactions. Which meant he was crushed in hugs and wept on a bit.

Yoruichi would blame Tessai for the tears, but both of them had been upset when they discovered the truth.

The fact they had almost lost him for good had hurt both of his friends, and they had reacted poorly to that.

Which meant this second talk had been delayed a bit. Kisuke could still feel his friends lurking around, which was expected. Knowing them, he was going to have them hover over him for a bit.

That made him smile a little. It was always good to know they cared.

Now Shinji and Ichigo sat in front of him.

He had debated on it but finally decided that he should tell them. Shinji was his closest friend outside of Tessai and Yoruichi, and in charge of the Visored.

And Ichigo just deserved to know the truth for once. Kisuke had already heard that Isshin had clammed up over telling the boy anything on his own past.

They had to meet in his bedroom, however. Tessai had looked rather terrifying at the idea of Kisuke leaving his bed too soon. So that meant he was sitting on his futon, sipping his tea as the others settled.

“I take it ya are goin’ to tell us about what the fuck all that was,” Shinji said easily, holding his own cup. Beside him, Ichigo was scowling more than normal, eyes flicking over Kisuke repeatedly as if to make sure the other wasn’t hiding injuries.

It was so adorable. Ichigo had brought Kisuke into the circle of those people who he considered his to protect.

Kisuke decided to be blunt for once.

“I’m dead,” he said calmly. “I’ve been dead, properly dead, for about a century.” He watched with a hint of amusement as Shinji choked on his tea.

“What?” Ichigo was staring at him, jaw dropped a bit as he tried to puzzle that out. “Aren’t you technically dead anyway?”

Kisuke shook his head. “I am a soul. As you know, that means I can be killed and returned to the cycle to be reborn later.”

Given Ichigo’s expression, he may not have known that. Kisuke added it to the list of things to start teaching Ichigo more about. If he was going to be dealing with Soul Society long-term, he needed a better idea of what it contained.

“When I was jailed, before the farce of a trial, I believe Aizen arranged for me to be poisoned.” He watched the pair of them, Shinji’s color slowly draining.

“He what?” the Visored hissed. Taking another sip of his tea, Kisuke answered.

“He arranged for my death. The reason I know it was him was that I…woke up, and all I could think was revenge upon my murderer.”

Shinji made a noise of recognition. “Y’re a revenant,” he said, tone dark. He studied Kisuke, frowning a bit. “How are you still movin?”

“Wait, he’s a what?” Ichigo glanced from one blond to the other, agitation and confusion clear on his face as he fidgeted. The teen looked like he wanted to fight something, even if he wasn’t sure what he should be fighting.

“A revenant,” Kisuke said slowly, “is an undead who rises to get revenge. They wake up from their death and begin to hunt. My ability to do so was limited, so I had a great deal more control over myself than some I have read about. They are…uncommon, and I have not been able to find out many details on them. Unohana-taicho has helped fill in some details for me.”

That got a snort from Shinji. “Yeah, she’d know about them.”

Ichigo went very quiet, very pale.

“You died?” he asked in a tiny voice. Kisuke looked at him, the boy’s eyes were wide, and there was something there that hinted he might tear up in a moment.

It was rather like looking at Yoruichi when she found out.

He had not realized that the other had become so attached to him.

“Twice,” Kisuke said softly. “Once when I died originally. Then a second once I completed my revenge. But my revenge is what also brought me back a second time.” He pressed a hand to his chest, where there was something new beating there. No longer was the whisper of revenge taking the place of a beating heart, warning his skin and keeping his mind sharp and limbs flexible.

“Part of killing Aizen, of getting my revenge, was removing the Hogyoku from him. In doing so, I consumed it. So when the need for revenge was over, with that driving force gone, the Hogyoku took its place.”

He looked at the pair of them. “So, it seems that I am dead, yet alive. So you shall have to deal with me for a time to come.”

Shinji scoffed, but Kisuke could see the relief in his friend’s eyes.

Ichigo looked even more relieved, uncertain.

Kisuke did what he would have done for Jinta or Ururu, and held his arms open, a silent offer.

One Ichigo took, slamming into Kisuke’s chest and hugging him tightly. Shinji moved as well, shifting so he was leaning against Kisuke’s shoulder, patting Ichigo’s back to help soothe him.

Poor boy. He must have been so stressed out for so long. Kisuke would have to take some of that from his shoulders.

They would talk more later. Right now, he just hugged Ichigo back, grateful for the chance to continue his undead life.

[rinusagitora]

Another empty seat in the city of ghosts.

Fandom: BLEACH

Characters: Toushirou Hitsugaya, Momo Hinamori, Ururu Tsumugiya, Yuzu Kurosaki, Rukia Kuchiki

Pairings: HitsuKarin, YuzUru others not mentioned

Words: 1.2k

Summary: Shinigami!Karin AU. Chapter 5/8. WARNINGS- mentions of suicide, dysfunctional families;  Karin has taken her life. What follows is a maelstrom of emotion.

AO3

Yuzu never felt more isolated in her life before Karin killed herself. Nevermore betrayed by people who swore to love and protect her.

How many lies had Yuzu been fed over the years? Why did they lie to her? How come she seemed so fragile to them.

All Yuzu was certain of was that shinigami fucked them over, and she, under no uncertain circumstances, would forgive them for the carnage they wrought on her family and her life. Yuzu was not a doormat. She would not be treated as one.

She refused to travel with the family who deceived her. She, instead, would walk to the temple.

It was like she was breathing in winter air with every step. Stinging her lungs mercilessly. It wasn't even cold that day. Yuzu was in so much pain over the last couple of days, it was unbearable to just breathe.

Yuzu came to the temple and was met by a priest. She bowed to them, and they bowed back.

"My family will be here soon," she told them. "I left before them to ensure everything is in place." A blatant lie, but Yuzu didn't want to advertise their family's problems to strangers, however, enlightened or used to playing therapist they may be.

"Alright. We've finished the altar, however. Would you like to speak to the deceased?"

"No," she snapped, "not at all." Karin's funeral was a formality. A fuck you to Karin, who happily lied to her face and then fucking left her to the wolves.

For a moment, the priest looked startled, and then gave Yuzu the worst thing ever: a genuine look of compassion. She wanted to flip him off.

"Kurosaki-san, I understand your anger. Betrayal." He clasped her shoulders. "But please know... you loved her. And you still do. Use this to let go of your grief and vexation."

Yuzu frowned. "Maybe later."

She looked over her shoulder. Ichigo, Isshin, Orihime, and Rukia arrived then. Yuzu bowed to the priest. "If you'll excuse me."

She met with Rukia first. Rukia, who was under no obligation to tell her anything, like her family was, and thus, the only one Yuzu could handle speaking to without being doused in a white hot rage.

Yuzu was still angry with her, however. She'd taken Ichigo from her family.

Rukia bowed to her. "Yuzu. How are you faring?"

"Unwell," Yuzu admitted. "I'm angry with all of you. I'm sad my sister is gone."

"Understandable," she said. "Sit with me?"

"Absolutely not. You're sitting rows behind us," she said. Rukia hummed. It was hard to get a read on her sometimes, but Yuzu knew it was something that would hurt Rukia, who was one of Ichigo's closest friends, immensely, to not sit with the family.

"I didn't mean during the ceremony. I just want to talk."

Yuzu folded her arms. "We can talk here."

Rukia sighed. "Alright," she said. "I just want to remind you that sometimes, we do things we think will protect our loved ones, and it ends up backfiring. But Ichigo loves you. Dearly."

Yuzu's nostrils flared. "I don't give a flying fuck why he deceived me for years, Rukia. The fact is, all of you lied to my face, year after year, and now my sister's dead." Her lip curled with disgust. Loathing. "None of you are my family. None of you care about me. This conversation is over."

"Just... take your time to think this over."

Her lips pursed and she turned away. In the doorway, she saw Ururu.

Ururu... sweet Ururu. Beautiful in a black dress and impossibly long hair.

It hurt more, Ururu, Yuzu's love, keeping secrets from her. She glared at Ururu when their eyes met, but Ururu seemed ultimately unfazed by it. She stood with Yuzu, faxing into her eyes. How Yuzu melted under those eyes.

"Given the option, I would've told you much sooner."

"I know. I know it's Isshin and Ichigo's fault." Deep down, Yuzu always knew Jinta and Ururu were puppeteered by intimidation. Ichigo was so overbearing when he thought he was protecting something. Suffocating. "I'm just so... so mad at them, Ururu."

"I'm... I'm feeling a lot of things," Ururu agreed.

Yuzu grabbed Ururu's hand. Ururu, the only person she could trust. Ururu, the only person she could cling to when she was miserable. "Come to the cremation? I think you're the only one I trust anymore. I... I can't even look at my family anymore. I need you with me."

"Of course," Ururu replied, smiling.

Yuzu sniffed. Thank god. Her head fell against her chest, and she whispered, "... is Karin here?"

"Yeah. She's with your brother."

She hummed. "Can you tell Ichigo we're about to begin, then?" she asked. "I... I don't wanna talk to him. I'll show you your guys' seat when you're back."

"Of course."

Yuzu could've kissed Ururu right there. God, she longed for comfort.

Only seconds later, she spotted the last person she wanted to see: Toushirou Hitsugaya. He looked a little older, taller, but that was the same smug look, the same white hair.

Yuzu knew that scumbag had something to do with Karin's suicide. She stormed over, aching to knock his teeth down his throat!

Rukia escaped as she stormed over. She met Toushirou toe-to-toe. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Your father said we were welcomed to the ceremony."

Of course, he did! She was going to strangle that man. Beat him to death with his damn limbs!

She jabbed her finger against his chest. Hot with rage. "You murdered my sister! I don't want you here!"

"And I do?"

She whipped to the young woman by his side. Beautiful in every way, from her face to her kimono. How dare he bring another girlfriend to Karin's funeral. "And who is this skank?"

"My sister," he said, "don't treat her like my mistress."

Toushirou's sister held Yuzu's hands and gave her a genuine look of compassion. "We are here to grieve just as ye," she said. "I understand how difficult this is. My husband passed during a tumultuous time. We hadn't the time to bury him, either."

Yuzu relaxed. Like ice on fire. His sister was crying like the pain was fresh. It almost made Yuzu cry with her. She looked at her feet, ashamed, sad. Everything hurt so much, she wanted to take it out on anything she could. Remind them of the pain they caused her.

But Toushirou's sister had no part in it. It was unfair.

"I'm sorry," Yuzu said, "It's been a long couple of days.

Momo bowed. "There's nothing to apologize for. If you need anything, please let me know. I haven't service at home, but Urahara-san can reach me if needed." Yuzu nodded in response. "May we take a seat?"

Yuzu gestured to the last rows. "In the back, please. The front rows are taken."

"Aye. Thank you again, Kurosaki-san."

As Toushirou and his sister took a seat, Yuzu's eyes met with Ururu. She pointed to their seat, then held up ten fingers. Ten minutes until the start. Ururu seemed to get the message.

Yuzu sat between Isshin and Ichigo. It was so tense between them. So tense, they couldn't face one another.

Yuzu stared straight ahead and awaited the ceremony.

[the-pallid-king]

"No.” He doesn’t want it to be now. And maybe this is as far as they’ll get in this conversation. You look like you’re ready to dig your heels in, and he doesn’t want that.

“It assumes they would think I was responsible, but I don’t think that would really happen. It’s just possible.”

He flinches, eyes going to you when you step into his path. He wasn’t going to use the sword, but he was thinking about it, and you seem to know that. And it’s probably best, because he suddenly realizes dying by that sword, might mean a spiritual death, not just the death of this gigai. He nods, fighting the urge to keep moving back, trying to control his chaotic spiritual pressure. His hands come up to grip at his chest, his arms. Except he doesn’t know how to force himself from living or fake living flesh. And then he’s vaguely, frustratingly annoyed. “Wha… I know how to take my clothes off, this is nothing like that.” Is that why you hate his clothes?!

His heart is pounding, but he’s almost certain killing this body will get it off of him. He can’t really say how he knows. But he’s also calming down after that instant spike of emotion. “It… Maybe you could choke it off me.”

"Ok then." Your answer is exactly what he thought it would be. He's not feeling particularly smug about it or anything, but there might be a tiny bit of challenge in his tone.

He frowns, "You're not responsible though." If anything, he is, at least for the damages to property and all that; the parts the complex owners can see.

He can feel your panic. The flavor is bitter, but one that would be inviting if it were coming from anyone but you. But if he can feel it, others can too. He can't be sure how many spiritually aware creatures might be around, and how many of those might be potential threats, but he wants them to know this isn't an invitation. So he pushes out, in steadily increasing increments, his own reiatsu, not so much trying to mask or even match yours, but just throwing up the beacon that you're not sitting up here alone.

If their arrival hadn't drawn attention, and there are shinigami around to notice, this surely will.

He huffs at that half panicked tone you use. "It was a metaphor. Of course it's not like takin' off your clothes. But it's not a body, right? It's fake, it has seams like fabric." It was a bad metaphor to start though, so... Damn. It's not an easy thing to describe, and he's only done it a few times himself and no doubt he's clumsy at it. "Ah-! Like a garganta- You gotta grab the energy of it, not something physical. Kinda like that."

Then you go and tell him to- "What? No. I'm not gonna choke you, why the hell would I do that?" Besides, they don't know if they'll get your real body back. You might need this gigai. He doesn't want to damage it. "We'll figure it out, we'll... I'll take you to Urahara. He made it, didn't he? Maybe he can make you another badge or something too."

[love-the-purple-cat]

Oh don't you dare look back, just keep your eyes on me - Chapter 1 Part 2

Ichigo is half expecting the girl to transfer into his class, just like the shinigami and Shinji had done, but no, she doesn’t appear.

He crushes the disappointment that arises in his chest when she doesn't.

It doesn’t matter, he isn’t a shinigami anymore, so it doesn’t make sense for whatever the hell the girl – Cherī– is to seek him out. That portion of his life is over and he needs to accept it. That is in the past.

(-But the past is never dead-)

Except,

Except he doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want to be powerless. Doesn’t want to watch Inoue, Chad and Ishida run out of class to fight Hollows. Doesn’t want the pitying looks his teacher gives him whenever that happens. Doesn’t want for his sister to sneak out and do whatever she does. Doesn’t want for his father to keep acting like nothing has happened, like Ichigo doesn’t know that he used to be a captain.

Doesn’t want his friends to pretend like he doesn’t know about Hollows, like he didn’t fight in a fucking war, like he didn't die saving one of them.

He doesn’t want any of that.

So what does he do?

He seeks out the girl that practically screams trouble.

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

It was nearing the end of lunch when he finally finds her.

She is leaning against a wall, looking at her phone. She doesn’t appear to notice, nor does she appear to expect him.

“Cherī,” He says, placing himself next to her, arms crossed and glaring at the opposite wall.

“Oh, hey Ichigo.” She says, turning her head to look at him and closing her phone. “What's up?”

He shrugs, “Nothing much.”

They lapse into silence.

She doesn’t try to start a conversation, she just opens her phone and keeps on scrolling and tapping. He chances a glance and sees that it is a conversation. Something about a guy ghosting the person Cherī is texting after they said ‘I love you'.

“How are you liking the school?” He asks, wanting to get things over with as quickly as possible.

“’s alright. How did ya know Ah’m new?”

“You could say I have a sixth sense for knowing when someone new transfers.” Not quite a lie, but not quite the truth.

She scrunches up her nose, whether at him or at the text she just received he wasn’t sure. After writing and rewriting her response and sending it does she turn to face him. “Yer friends wit' da teachers, aren’t'cha? That's how ya knew Ah was new.” She smiles, like she just solved the puzzle.

He snorts rudely. “Please. Like this,” He gestures to his hair, “could ever make the teachers like me.”

“Eh,” She flaps her hand, “Ya never know. If yer sweet an’ polite an' don’t make any noise during class, da teachers will love ya.”

“It sounds like you speak from experience.”

“That’s how Ah used ta’ be in middle school. An’ da first year of high school as well, before we moved, ‘course.”

“Why did you move?”

“Ma’ pa got transferred so off we went. What ‘bout ya? Have ya always lived ‘ere?”

“Yeah, my whole life.”

“An’ afterwards?”

“What?” Did she mean Soul Society?

“Ya know, after graduation. Do ya plan on stayin ‘ere or will ya move?”

“Oh,” He rubs his neck. This was the first time he had to seriously think about what he would do after high school. There was never quite enough time to do that when he was too busy saving the three worlds from a megalomaniac with a God complex. “Not sure.”

She nods in understanding. “Same. Might take a year off ta' try an' "discover myself".” He got to see her neon coloured nails when she did the air quotes. “But that’s just so ma' parents would get off ma' back.”

“They’re forcing you to do something?”

“Not quite. They just want me ta' make an honest livin'. Ma' ma wants me ta’ take over when she retires, an' ma' pa wants me ta' be anythin' but a bartender. Joke’s on ‘im, Ah can just become a stripper!” She laughs at her joke. “Ya know, ‘cuz he says anything but a bartender, so Ah can be a stripper.” She says when he doesn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I get it.” He is dumbfounded by this girl.

“Can Ah ask ya sumthin?”

“Sure?”

“Where'dja get yer hair done in that colour. Been thinkin' of dyein' mine soon but don’t know any good hairdressers ‘round.”

Ichigo is surprised to not feel the familiar anger whenever someone assumes his hair is bleached. “It’s natural.”

She gaps. “Shut up.”

“It is.” Is that a hint of smugness that he is feeling?

“No way. Ya lucky bastard!” She laughs, knocking their shoulders. “Ah would kill ta' have hair like that! Instead, Ah'm stuck wit' borin’ black. At least ma' eyes're a light blue.”

“That’s light blue?” He tilts his head to examine her eyes. Yep, still an intense blue.

“Yeah, Ah'm just using contacts fer a brighter colour. Not all of us can have orange eyes.”

“I don’t have orange eyes.”

She frowns and gets on her tiptoes to see his face. He leans down a bit to help her. “Ah, ma' mistake. Ah guess in da right light they look orange. Or is it amber?” She gets down, eyes looking to the upper left in thought.

“I think they're similar?”

She nods. “Yer probably right.”

It is then that the bell rings, signalling the end of lunch.

“Anyway, see ya.”

 --------------------------

It is only as he is sitting in math class that he realises that he didn’t ask her what she wanted.

[feelingfredly]

You Don’t Have a Soul, You Are a Soul (You Have a Body)

Summary:            

Kisuke has a disregard for his own safety a mile wide and it's enough to drive Ichigo mad.  This time he finds the shopkeeper unconscious but not alone, and the woman with him has some very interesting things to say.

Notes:    

Bingo Square Prompt #47--"You're cute when you're angry."  "Then I'm about to be fucking adorable."

For UraIchi PC#4, @uraichievents

                  The wave of reiatsu was so strong that even Ichigo was shaken by it.

“What the hell was that?” He ran through the shōten looking for some sign of attack but found nothing. Tessai and the kids had left for a trip to Seireitei the night before, so he didn’t have to worry about them.   Kisuke, on the other hand… well, he always worried about Kisuke.

“Kisuke!” he called as he ran up and down the back halls sticking his head in each doorway.  There was no sign of him. “Kisuke!!”

The blond hadn’t been at breakfast, but he often skipped the morning meal. Ichigo hadn’t worried about his absence as he made his onsen tamago, even if he missed their normal disagreement about whether natto was a food or not.

(Kisuke was convinced it was not.  Proof that even a genius could be wrong.)

He slid to a stop in the kitchen and paused.  The ring-pull for the hatch to the bunker was sitting upright.  It hadn’t been that way last night when he’d finished his workout.  He always double checked the handle so that Tessai wouldn’t trip over it when he was carrying things from the pantry. Someone else must’ve…

Before the thought had finished, the trapdoor was open and Ichigo was dropping into the dark.

And boy was it dark.  The bunker was never dark.  It had an unrelenting fake sun that Ichigo had cursed a hundred times, but this… this was more disconcerting than a noon-time sun at one in the morning.

“Kisuke!” He whisper-yelled into the darkness, covering the yards between the entrance and where the training area usually started carefully even though until that moment he’d have sworn he could traverse them blindfolded with his hands tied behind his back. “I swear to God, Kisuke, you better be okay or I’m going to strangle you myself.”

Off to the right there was a sound, a musical little arpeggio of a laugh that sounded like it was made of chimes and razorblades.

Shit.

The bunker was filled with strange reishi, so dense that Ichigo could feel it breaking over him like waves. Something had concentrated it all here, and if he had three guesses, they’d be Kisuke, Kisuke, and Kisuke.

The reishi tingled, he could even feel it in his lungs, and he marveled at the sensation.   His human body was usually numb to this type of thing, the subtle energy signals drowned out by his own reiatsu.  It was lucky that Ishida wasn’t there.  He’d either be higher than a kite on all the ambient power, or out cold somewhere. The question was, was the wave that slammed through him earlier enough to knock Kisuke on his ass?

“Who’s there?” he called out, moving closer to the training floor. “I’m not looking for trouble, I’m just trying to find my friend.”

The laugh echoed around him. “Clearly you don’t know Urahara-sama well enough if you are looking for him and not expecting to find trouble.”

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Ichigo reluctantly agreed, “I guess it’s more that I’m not looking for imported trouble.  Domestic is fine.”

“Pfah,” a delicate sound of disgust, “domestic.  That is the problem, then, isn’t it?”

Ichigo took three more paces toward the training floor, towards that voice, and finally stepped across the boundary of Tessai’s shielding kidō.   The darkness on the other side was more like twilight, shifting and changing, only allowing him to see a little distance into the suddenly tree-filled area, but at least he wasn’t struggling against pitch dark anymore.

He still tripped over the body, though.

“Kisuke!” He dropped to his knees and gathered the unconscious man into his arms, shooting a cautious look around them. “Wake up, Kisuke," he whispered, "Come on. There's a crazy lady in your basement and I need to get you out of here.”

There was movement in the trees, and he lowered Kisuke gently back to the ground, prepared to fight the intruder.

“I don’t know who you are, or why you’re down here.  I’m even willing to give you the benefit of the doubt that you’re not to blame for Urahara-sama’s incapacitation, but you need to stay back.”

He stood between the blond and whatever it was in the trees, gritting his teeth in frustration.  He was still in his human body—no weapon and very limited access to his reiatsu. He could use his badge, but he was Kisuke’s only protection and that would leave him unprotected for too long as he adjusted to changing form. He had no choice. He’d make do if he had to.

More movement, this time accompanied by a hiss of discontent. “I dare you to try to keep me from him.” The woman attached to the voice appeared, her movements so graceful it almost looked like she was floating across the ground. “You are the one that doesn’t belong here, human,” she almost spat the word. “I should rip your intestines out through your nose and wear them as necklaces as punishment for your impudence.”

Okay, clearly not human.  Probably not Shinigami, since he didn’t recognize the voice. The intestine thing was almost hollow-levels of violent, so maybe an Arrancar? Were there Arrancar that he didn’t know? Probably. Could Kisuke have developed a relationship with one of them without Ichigo knowing? Also, probably.

The admission sat heavier in his stomach than he wanted to admit.

“Your questionable taste in jewelry aside, I live here and threatening me isn’t going to help the situation.”

The laugh was back, but the chimes were gone. Nothing but razorblades remained. “Yes.  You’re Kurosaki Ichigo, Urahara-sama’s stray. He brought you in from the cold because your Quincy bitch of a mother was dead, and your Shinigami sire was too weak to protect you.  You’re a whelp with sharp teeth to be trained as an attack dog and put down when there was no more need for you. You served your purpose. Now, you’re here playing house. Chasing after him. You are nothing but a burden, and the sooner you accept that, the better for everyone involved.”

Ichigo’s fingers were clenched so tightly he imagined he could hear the bones creak. Every word was an echo of thoughts that had ping-ponged around in his head at some point, but Kisuke had told him he was welcome.  Told him he was wanted.  And Kisuke didn’t lie to him anymore—about anything.

“If you think I’m capable of manipulating Urahara Kisuke into letting me stay against his will, then you don’t know him as well as you think you do, Miss…?”

Ichigo waited, braced, but she didn’t move.  She just laughed again. “I know him better than you ever will, Kurosaki-san. And maybe you aren’t a burden now, but you will be. Is that what you want, human?”

She moved closer.  Her hair shone like moonlight on spilled ink, the waves cascading over her shoulders and down her long, graceful back.  She was tall—almost as tall as Kisuke—and while her lips were the darkest red, her skin was as pale and perfect as Kisuke’s as well.  Black eyes stared at him across the training ground, her crimson robes leaving no trace of her passage, an oddly familiar sword hilt strapped to her back, as she floated towards him like a ghost.  Like a... a spirit.

“Benihime!” The name tore itself from him in a pained whisper.  There was no way this could be, but the strange woman even felt like Kisuke—strong and beautiful and clever and vicious. But how?  And why was she so angry with him?  He loved Kisuke. He’d do anything for him.

Her forward movement stopped, and she sniffed disparagingly. “It took you long enough.  Urahara-sama told me you were smart, but I have yet to see proof of it.”

Ichigo shook his head to clear it.  How could he see Kisuke’s zanpakuto spirit? And Kisuke said he was smart?

“If you are his Benihime, then why aren’t you helping him?” Ichigo waved his hand in the direction of the inert body at his feet.

Benihime shrugged one shoulder, a move Ichigo’d seen Kisuke make a thousand times, “If he isn’t strong enough to rise on his own, why should I help him?  I serve no one weaker than I.”

Ichigo growled at her. “I have a fucking hollow for a zanpakuto spirit, and even he would help me if I needed it.”

She leaned close to his face and hissed, “My master doesn’t need help. My master is stronger than that. Stronger than you, you clinging, puling infant.”

Rage flowed through him. “Okay, that's enough. I don't know what your problem is, but you don't have a fucking clue. I know that Kisuke’s stronger than I am! He's proven it time and time again, but that doesn’t mean he has to fight alone! As long as I'm alive he will never have to fight alone.”

He turned his back on her, dropped to his knees beside the painfully still Kisuke, and wrapped his arms around him, trembling in fury.  How dare she abandon Kisuke like this when he clearly needed help? He wanted to knock that smug look off her face, but he couldn’t strike her—she was Kisuke’s zanpakuto! Part of his soul! —but he didn’t trust himself to keep his cool if he had to keep looking at her.

“There's the spitfire I was promised." Benihime's voice behind him softened into just-mocking. "You’re cute when you’re angry.”

Ichigo snarled at her. “Then I’m about to be fucking adorable.”

He gritted his teeth as he ran through his mental triage checklist.  There were no visible injuries, no cuts or bruises.  He gently felt the long bones in Kisuke’s arms and legs—no evident breaks.  He put a shaking hand on Kisuke’s face, something he’d dreamed of doing for months, and could feel no fever, nor chill of death.  He was in a gigai, but it was as if it didn’t have enough reiryoku to power it. “I will only say this once: either help or get the hell away from him.  Now.”

She moved, but Ichigo couldn’t tell where.  Her reiatsu was being muffled by the rippling reishi around them.

“He did this himself, you know.” The words weren’t chastising, simply matter of fact. “I’m not certain about the details, but the process of forcing me to manifest on this plane used his reserved reiryoku.  He’s suffering from reiatsu exhaustion.  I know that the healers in the Fourth have kidō they use to transfer reiryoku to the injured, but since Tessai-san isn’t here and you have no skill in that department, you will simply have to wait for him to recover.”

Ichigo shifted the weight on his lap running through every possibility he could think of. Waiting was not at the top of his list. He knew the gigai required a base level of power to operate. Perhaps…

He reached into his pocket and removed his substitute Shinigami badge and pressed it carefully into Kisuke’s chest.

“Come on, Kisuke,” he whispered, hoping beyond hope that he was right, and that the man’s spirit form would require less energy to maintain. “Wake up. Come back to me. Please.”

The body in his lap became heavier, a truly dead weight, as Kisuke’s spirit body was ejected from it. It was a sensation Ichigo never wanted to experience again.

“Ah, Kurosaki-kun,” the shopkeeper was suddenly kneeling beside him, a long-fingered hand rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment, tired but otherwise whole, “I see that my calculations were a little off.”

Ichigo nodded, breathless with relief. He was okay. “It seems that way.”

Benihime moved towards them, “They were off in more ways than one, Urahara-sama.”

Kisuke tilted his head and looked at her over Ichigo’s shoulder. “How so? I see that the kidō shield for the training ground acted as a suitable extension for my inner world.  The forest and the shrine are here.  The twilight. You.” He shrugged. “What am I missing?”

Benihime looked at him fondly, like a parent with a particularly precocious child, if the child was a trained assassin and happened to have enough reiatsu to level a small town by himself.

“Your kidō wasn’t strong enough because you only factored in manifesting a single fragment of soul. Mine was not the only one tied to your reiryoku. There was a second piece of soul willingly parted with, and it was in bringing that piece into this realm along with me, that you overexerted yourself.”

Ichigo frowned at the blond, “But you only have one zanpakuto spirit. What other soul fragment could there be?”

Benihime gave Ichigo a mystic smile and suddenly there were twin flags of color high on Kisuke’s cheekbones. “He only has one sword spirit, yes.  But he’s given another piece of his soul to the one that holds his heart.”

There was an almost palpable silence in the bunker, and then Benihime laughed.  This time it carried no edge. Ichigo and Kisuke simply stared at one another.

“I knew the human world was going to be fun.” She clapped her hands like a giddy child. “I cannot wait to see what tomorrow will bring.”

Ichigo looked down at his hands and realized that he was still holding his badge. He pressed it into his own chest unsteadily, his body falling away to lie next to the abandoned gigai. He reached out and took Kisuke’s hand as he stood.

“Kurosaki-kun, you don’t need…” the blond started, but Ichigo shushed him and pulled him to his feet.

“I may owe your Benihime an apology,” he said, a wry twist of a smile on his face. “I wasn’t very polite, but in my defense, I was terrified of losing you.”

He pulled Kisuke closer, his arms slipping around his waist in a loose embrace.

“It will take more than this to take me from you, Kurosaki-kun.” He pressed their foreheads together. “Much more.”

“She said you didn’t need me.” Ichigo couldn’t believe this was happening.   It was like a fever dream so he whispered so he wouldn’t wake himself. “She said that I would become a burden to you.” He gripped Kisuke’s waist even more tightly. “Promise me you will tell me if that becomes the case.”

The blond nodded and sighed. “I promise, but you should know, that wasn’t what she meant when she said I didn’t need you. My princess often speaks in riddles and half-truths when it serves her purpose.”

Ichigo looked up at him, searching for an answer in his eyes. “What did she mean, then?”

Kisuke let out a breath. “She was teasing me.  She knew I could hear you even though I couldn’t respond. You see, I told her once that I didn’t need anyone to do what I had to do, but that I wanted…” he squeezed Ichigo’s hands, “that I wanted you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my whole existence. She told me that if I truly valued you that much I should step forward and say it, because silence guaranteed failure, and only cowards accepted failure without a fight.”

“And do you still?” Ichigo swallowed past the lump in his throat, afraid to hear the answer, but still somehow desperate for it. “Want me, I mean?”

“More than I thought possible, Ichigo-kun,” he murmured into soft orange spikes, “and I think of seven impossible things before breakfast.”

Ichigo felt a wild laugh bubble to the surface and listened to Benihime’s laughter echo through the woods in return.  He clutched Kisuke to his chest, reveling in the right to do so, and mentally thanked the zanpakuto spirit for giving them this chance.

Down the rabbit hole they would go.

Together.

[recurring-polynya]

Inspiration strikes sideways sometimes, and I was thinking about the Halloween ask @avatarpabu97​  sent me the other day, and then I started thinking about Byakuya and Spirit Phones (I am never not thinking about Byakuya and Spirit Phones, we all know this) and then I thought WHAT IF Byakuya ACTUALLY GOT a Spirit Phone???

Anyway, here’s a fanfiction. (thanks to @diademchiofthetripod for the beta, as always)

Communication Protocols [AO3] [FF.net]

Rating: G for Good God, this is ridiculous. At least it’s short.

Byakuya stared at the little rectangle lined up with the upper left corner of his blotter. 

He had just completed three personnel evaluations, the number he had allotted himself before he could pick it up again.

He picked it up again.

It was one of the new models, with a large screen and what he was told was a very nice camera. It was encased in some sort of bulky plastic shell, "for protection," as though he were incapable of protecting his personal possessions. He had grudgingly agreed to keep it in its case for a period of one month, until he was used to carrying this irksome little object around. To be honest, though, he did find it aesthetically pleasing-- Rukia had selected the shiny white shell, dusted with sakura petals, and her taste, at least in this matter, was impeccable. Perhaps he would leave it on.

No new Text Messages. 

Byakuya frowned. Perhaps it was broken.

He opened his contacts, and scrolled down until he located "Captain Hitsugaya  Toushirou."

"This is a test to ensure the Spirit Phone network is still working," he carefully typed out.

He hit send.

He waited.

The phone emitted a cheerful little binglety-boop.

He had received a Text Message from Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou.

"It's still working." He wished he couldn’t see the message above it, the last time he had texted Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou to ask if the Spirit Phone network was working. He especially wished it didn’t display a time stamp. 

A new Text Message from Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou arrived. "Do you want to spar or something? Go get a coffee?"

Byakuya contemplated this offer. Perhaps it would-- no. No, it was unnecessary. "Thank you, but I cannot. I am very busy today," he typed back.  He wasn't, not exactly, but he needed to stay caught up with his paperwork, now that, once again, his adjutant had been dispatched to more pressing concerns. 

"No prob, let me know if you change your mind."

Byakuya frowned. Captain Hitsugaya would never dream of saying "no prob" to him in person, even though they had slowly been cultivating an Informal Acquaintanceship over the last several years. That was the problem with these Spirit Phones, they broke down the proper formality of everyday relationships.

The phone made a special noise, not the generic binglety-boop, but the irksome screech of his lieutenant's first bankai. How had Abarai even obtained an audio recording of that? The phone informed Byakuya that he had received a Text Message from "My Awesome and Very Helpful Vice-Captain."

Abarai had done most of the work in setting up this odious little device for him, for which he was, of course, grateful. However, the man had left a few things in a less-than-desirable state.

"They're your contacts, you can set 'em up however you want," Byakuya remembered Abarai carefully explaining. "You can change my name and ringtone to whatever you want, as soon as you figure out how."

Byakuya had tried to get Rukia to do it for him, but she had, instead, just changed her own contact from "My Extremely Perfect Sister" to "My Extremely Badass Sister," which he found even more irritating than the Helpful Vice-Captain thing.

But he had no time for irritation at the moment. He opened the Text Message, and the first idiotic thought that entered his head was that he had made absolutely the right decision to start carrying this stupid rectangle with its excellent screen and superlative camera. 

Abarai had sent him a picture.

Byakuya stared at the picture for a long time. He was having an emotion, and for once, he didn't do anything to try and prevent it.

He then received a second Text Message from his Awesome and Very Helpful Vice-Captain.

"Your sister is a friggin' badass. Come on over whenever."

Several pieces of paper blew off his desk in the wake of Byakuya's departure.

 ---

Abarai was standing out front of his home contemplating his own Spirit Phone when Byakuya arrived. He turned the device around to display a stopwatch application.

"Thirty-seven point six seconds," he announced. "Takes ten minutes just to wrangle a Hell Butterfly. You understand now why everyone else has been using these things for years?"

"You're wasting my time, Lieutenant," he snarled.

Abarai grinned. "Yours and mine both. C'mon in."

Byakuya tactfully ignored the clutter as they entered the more casual living area at the rear of the house. This was unusual; Abarai and his sister more frequently entertained in the front room, and furthermore, usually took great care to have things tidy prior to his visits. Perhaps the occasional breakdown of formalities had its advantages. He certainly would certainly take a coffee table covered in infant-related ephemera over having to wait another minute to see his sister and her latest accomplishment.

Rukia was ensconced on the hideous piece of furniture they called a couch, pillows propped all around her so that she looked like she was sitting in a very plush throne. There was an intriguing lump wrapped in a purple blanket and propped against her chest. She looked very tired, but also incredibly smug. The coffee table had been pulled into a very strange diagonal position, where it was very close to the couch at one end, and further away. Rukia’s feet, in pink fuzzy socks, were propped up on the close end. The reason for the strange configuration suddenly became very obvious, it was so someone of a normal height could sit next to her without banging their knees. 

"That was fast," Rukia teased.

"This is a very serious occasion," Byakuya scolded her. "Surely, you have more pressing matters than...what is the word you use? Pushing me?"

"Dragging," Rukia supplied. "And, no. Nothing is more important than dragging you."

"Go sit," Abarai ordered, pointing at the spot on the couch next to Rukia. "Did you actually bring your phone with you or did you leave it in the office?"

"I brought it," Byakuya frowned, pulling it out of his kosode as he gingerly sat down.

"Good, I'm gonna teach you how to take a selfie."

Byakuya regarded the very precious thing Rukia was getting ready to hand him, and held out his phone to his lieutenant. "Maybe you could take it, instead. Renji. I promise I will let you teach me about self-portraiture later."

"No problem," his brother-in-law replied. "Byakuya."

A spirit phone was passed from one shinigami to another, and then a niece passed from a third shinigami back to the first one.

Byakuya carefully contemplated the tiny features of the infant, now that he could see her peacefully sleeping face. He could not mentally categorize any particular thing as belonging to either parent, aside from the soft down of bright red hair. She just looked like a baby.

There was the sound a false shutter closing, and Byakuya looked up, startled. "I was not ready," he protested.

"Doesn't matter, still a good picture," Renji mumbled, squinting at his phone.

"Send me a copy," Rukia insisted.

"Yeah, yeah," Renji agreed, engrossed in the task.

Byakuya sat up a little straighter, and tried to angle the baby so that her face would be visible in the photograph. "Try to look dignified," he informed her, even though she was asleep. "Take the picture, Abarai."

"Taking the picture, sir."

Abarai brought the phone over and showed Byakuya the picture. "Excellent," Byakuya approved, his heart tightening in his chest. There was a slight movement in his arms, and he realized that baby was now awake and squinting at him.

"You wanna see it, too, Ichi-chan?" Abarai said gently, idiotically turning the phone towards the infant, and brushing one large hand over her head. He straightened up, looking down at his daughter fondly. "You want me to make this your lock screen?" he offered.

"My what?" Byakuya echoed.

"Just do it," Rukia suggested dryly.

"You decided on Ichika?" Byakuya asked. He knew it had been a front-runner for the case of a girl, and it fit with the diminutive Abarai used to address the child, but he did not like to make assumptions. He, personally, would not have named a child after Kurosaki Ichigo, but neither would he argue with the choice. 

“Abarai Ichika,” Rukia confirmed.

Byakuya nodded. “Abarai Ichika,” he addressed his niece. “You are the very first person to be born into the Abarai clan, a branch of the eminent Kuchiki family, the Greatest Family in Soul Society. You are a very auspicious sign of future greatness for your clan.”

“What do you mean, future?” Rukia interrupted. “We’re already pretty great.”

“Shh!” Renji scolded. “Don’t interrupt his thing! I’ll take all the good luck we can get.”

Byakuya leaned forward. “Your mother is correct. You are already pretty great.”

 ---

When Byakuya returned to the office, he had another Text Message from Abarai, although there were a large number of other people listed on it as well, some identified by name and some by number. Ah! Was this a Group Text? He had heard the term thrown about, but had not yet been included on one.

"WATCH OUT, SOUL SOCIETY," it read, and included a picture Byakuya had taken himself, of Ichika with both her parents, all three of them making the same disturbingly Abarai-like facial expression, as though they were preparing to instigate a brawl in a drinking establishment of questionable repute. Rukia had claimed that this was Ichika’s default facial expression and both she and Abarai found it extremely humorous to make it at the baby and also at each other. A brief note followed, listing the baby’s name, various statistics, and an affirmation of Rukia's health.

The first response to this, attributed to one of those mysterious numbers, was "where are her" followed by a very small picture of a pair of sunglasses. Byakuya wondered how that was accomplished.

Many, many responses followed, some praising the cuteness of his niece, others offering congratulations, a few containing merely sequences of the little pictures (balloons, fireworks, etc). An argument broke out over which squad she belonged to, which Abarai himself cut off with a string of roughly 100 camellia symbols and "SQUAD 6 FOREVER!!!!!!" followed by more camellias. Byakuya felt mostly confused, but also vaguely proud.

Another unknown number accused, "rukia is asleep, isn't she?", which prompted  back ".................yes" from Abarai.

Byakuya frowned. Abarai's punctuation was never this poor. Ah, well, in all likelihood, he was probably a bit behind on sleep as well, not something that was likely to be remedied any time soon. Rukia had rejected Byakuya’s initial offer of sending over some of the servants to help out, but perhaps it wouldn't hurt to offer again once a few days had passed.

Another Text Message arrived, this one to himself, personally. It was from Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou. "Congratulations!" it read. "Have you seen her yet?"

Byakuya was feeling very adventurous. He experimented with a number of options on his phone. None of them turned out to provide the functionality he desired, although he did find the menu of little pictures.

"I did," he finally Text Messaged back. "She is very"  and then added a picture of a bunny. He sent it, and sat back, feeling very pleased with himself. 

He looked around his desk and realized that in his current mood, there was no way he would be able to write objective personnel evaluations. 

"It does not seem possible to attach a photograph to a Text Message from my Spirit Phone," he sent, yet again, to Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou, "but if you are still interested in meeting for tea (I do not drink coffee, but I know of a place that serves both), I have some I can show you."

"Let's do it," came back. "I can show you how to attach pictures."

Just to make sure he could do it without embarrassing himself, Byakuya navigated back through his main photography application, and located the pictures he had taken at Rukia and Renji's house. Very easy! He flipped back through them again. He decided that Ichika definitively favored her mother, how else could she possibly be so beautiful? 

He reached the first photograph of the day, the one Abarai had taken when he was not paying attention. Byakuya wasn't sure anyone had ever taken an unposed photograph of him before, although he knew Rukia and Renji took such pictures of each other constantly. Rukia's photographic ouvre was primarily "Renji falling off of things" (some of which were absolutely delightful). Renji didn't tend to share his photographic accomplishments, at least not with his superior, but he did keep one on his desk.  In it, Rukia, engrossed in her artwork, was tucking her hair behind one ear. Byakuya personally felt it belonged in a museum somewhere.

This photograph, his niece meeting her clan head for the first time, was of similar calibre. He hardly recognized himself, caught from the side, his face partially obscured by his hair, but not so much as to hide his facial expression, a mix of surprise and joy. He didn't remember feeling surprised. How could he possibly be surprised? This event had been anticipated for months. He did not particularly remember feeling joy at that moment, either, although he was feeling joy right now, and he couldn't specifically remember when that had started. 

He did not wish to be late for his appointment with Captain Hitsugaya, so he hit the proper button on his phone. He now understood what a lock screen was, and he was grateful for Rukia's good judgment on the matter.

In this photograph, which others might occasionally glimpse, he appeared much more appropriately himself, looking very, very full of pride. Ichika was yawning, her tiny face scrunched together on one side and stretched out on the other. 

He tucked his spirit phone into his kosode and headed out to show off his pictures of niece to his best Informal Acquaintance.

 the end!

 ---

Shinigami's Cup: GOLDEN!

"i hear you got a spirit phone!!! good jorb, dude!"

"Is this Kurosaki Ichigo? Abarai put you into my telephone contacts as 'the Worst Ryouka'."

"IT ME" ::Kurosaki Ichigo emoji::

"How did you do that? Why is that picture an option?"

"i am putting you in my contacts as Uncle Byakuya."

"Please do not."

"does yoruichi have your number?"

"No."

"i'm gonna give yoruichi your digits"

"Do not, Kurosaki Ichigo!"

::Kurosaki Ichigo emoji:: ::senkaimon emoji::

:: Ambassador Seaweed emoji:: :: zanpakutou emoji:: ::sakura emoji:: ::sakura emoji:: ::sakura emoji::

[thatonekawaiigirl13]

Who Said Death Was Easy? [Death Note] Chapter 54

Chapter Fifty-four: Objective 

Light’s POV:

“Ryuzaki-san said you wanted to speak to me in private,” Light stated, closing the door behind him. He spared a glance over at the shinigami, who was hovering in the corner of the interrogation room. Her look, though stoic, was also serious. “He said you felt it was important that we speak alone.”

I have to admit, somehow I feel like I know what this might be about…

“Yes,” Rem responded. Light noted how her eyes never left his. “That’s correct. That detective said it would be safe for us to use this room to talk. He assured me that what is said will not leave the two of us in here. As far as he knows, we’re talking about the investigation. I told him you had questions I was willing to answer.”

She’s gone this far, huh?

“This...this sounds rather serious,” Light commented. Although he was rather annoyed by the shinigami’s sudden antics, he kept his tone light. 

“It is rather serious, Light Yagami.”

Light let out a sigh. “Let me guess…this is about Misa Amane, yes?” Though it was phrased as a question, he could already sense Rem’s response. 

“Why bother to ask when I’m sure you already know the answer to that?” The shinigami quipped. “You know me well enough by now.”

Of course…after all, she’s the only person Rem cares about… I suppose I should have seen this meeting coming… no matter what I say or do, it appears she’s never quite satisfied with me… 

He crossed his arms over his chest, propping himself on the wall behind him. “I can assure you, Rem, I’ve been extra careful as far as Misa is concerned.”

“I’m sure you have. I know how you are, Light Yagami, you’re thorough.”

Is that so? If that’s the case, then...

“Then why did you want to speak to me so badly?” He prompted the shinigami.

It has to be the exchange, yes?

Rem’s response was almost instant. “Listen, I know Misa’s gotten in contact with Teru Mikami, I can tell from your behavior. I’ve been keeping a close eye on you. I’m sure you’ve noticed that as well. I also know that you are planning things so that the exchange will take place soon. Therefore, what I want to know is…have you decided on when and where the exchange is taking place?”

I had a feeling this was where this was going. Well, well, Rem, I can’t say I’m surprised. However, is this really necessary? I assure you, Rem, everything will be taken care of. Misa will be okay. I’ve made damned sure of that, thanks to you. You know very well that I need your cooperation in order to get rid of L. I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up, so you can trust me on that. 

Before Light could interrupt, Rem continued on, “as I’m sure you know, I want to ensure that Misa will not be put into any danger with this situation. I will not be able to leave headquarters, which you also know…that’s why I at least want to know exactly what it is you have planned. That way, I can rest assured.”

Looks like I’ll just have to humor her…that’s alright I suppose. It’s a hassle, but if I tell her, she’ll get off my tail. I won’t have to deal with her or Misa Amane for that much longer anyway…soon enough, she’ll be getting rid of L for me.  

Light let out a sigh. “Fine. You should know that I’ve thought a lot about it. There are benefits and risks to every possible situation. A public exchange would be risky because, while it can easily be masked by others, it can also easily be recorded. I wouldn’t put it past Ryuzaki to have someone still privately keeping tabs on Misa, so even if she wore a disguise, it would be useless. However, a private exchange would also be risky in this situation. Privacy can be assured, yes, but there will still be a record of the exchange in a hotel booking and whatnot. And once again, I’m sure Ryuzaki might still be tailing Misa.”

I’m positive he’s still tailing her, in fact…knowing him, he’s probably sore about those fake rules. He’d be willing to do anything to prove I’m Kira. That makes this all the more hard, but that’s okay. I’ll meet his challenge head on. There’s not much he can do to me right now anyway, not when everyone else, Keiko included, believes in my innocence. I know they’re willing to vouch for me, and if L accuses me again, they won’t listen… 

“Get to the point, Light Yagami.”

“Listen,” Light raised an eyebrow at Rem, “what I’m saying is, no matter what is done, there is still a risk. However, I’ve thought a lot about it and I’ve decided that the best plan would be to go for a private exchange. It’s still a risk, but I’ve taken some measures of precaution in order to not arouse any suspicion.”

I’ve spent the last few days thinking it over, in fact…I have to carefully instruct Misa to follow my instructions…  

“I”m intrigued. What will this private exchange entail?”

“I’m glad you asked, Rem,” the corners of Light’s lips curved upwards. “I know Ryuzaki still believes me to be Kira, and Misa Amane the second Kira. Despite the fake rules that I had set in place, he still won’t change his mind. And there’s no way I could change his mind, I know that. However, without any concrete evidence, he can’t do anything. Even if he thinks he’s right. Therefore we can’t let him get any more evidence. Or rather, even if he gets ‘evidence’, he won’t be able to use it. As long as there’s nothing incriminating, and there won’t be, he can’t do a damn thing.”

Right now, he’s a sitting duck…he’s exactly where I want him. I have the upper hand right now, and I cannot allow him to catch up. I won’t play into his hand. 

Rem thought this over a moment. “That makes sense, he has nothing to convict you or Misa, especially because of those fake rules in the death note… so, what is it you have planned? Tell me.”

“I was just getting to that, Rem.” Light cast a look at her, “I’m sure you’re well aware of Misa’s career as a model…”

The shinigami let out a breath. Her confusion was plain as day to Light, “what’s that got to do with anything?”

“Everything,” Light responded. “Just think about it a moment. Modeling shoots are generally private, right? After all, Misa’s safety needs to be ensured, otherwise they wouldn’t be able to do the shoot.”

Rem raised an eyebrow. “You’re suggesting…Misa make the exchange while working on a modeling shoot…?”

“That’s correct. It’ll be a private modeling shoot. Misa’s having a photoshoot in Aoyama on Friday, so four days from now. Even if L has someone tailing Misa, I doubt they’d have an easy time getting into her shoot. Misa’s told me they have a strict employee only policy. Even if they did manage to make it inside, it would be hard to get Misa alone. Why bother going that far to tail her when L knows that even Misa wouldn’t do something as stupid as killing criminals at work? He wouldn’t do that, therefore there is little incentive for him to go through the trouble of having someone sneaking into her work shoot. So it’ll be the safest place for the exchange. L also has no idea that I will be swapping out Misa as Kira…it’s the perfect plan.”

“As you said, you’ve really thought this through. It makes sense and I’m happy that Misa’s safety will be ensured…” Rem trailed off, “however, where does Mikami come into play? He’s a criminal prosecutor. What would he be doing at a modeling shoot?”

“You’re right. He wouldn’t.” Light said. He was smug as he added, “but it just so happens that he has business in Aoyama that day. The building Misa is modeling in has many different smaller company headquarters inside of it, and it happens that Mikami will be there to work on a case involving a company within the building. They will both be there on business, but doing two separate things. Even if L later on connects the dots, he won’t be able to prove anything. He won’t have any evidence.”

He won’t be able to do anything…and besides, everyone else believes in those fake rules… L will be powerless…exactly where I want him to be…and if it all goes well, it’ll be all according to my plan. 

Rem’s POV:

The shinigami narrowed her eyes at Light. She still did not trust him, but she also knew that he wouldn’t dare cross her. Not when Rem still had Misa looming over him. It appeared Light was willing to do anything in order to protect Misa to ensure that Rem would still be on his side in order to get rid of L for him. 

So, that’s it, Light Yagami? You’re using this modeling shoot as a cover up? It’s perfect. I have to admit that it truly is well thought out. I have to hand it to you, you truly are rather calculative. However, you’re also rather heartless. 

“You never cease to amaze me, Light Yagami.”

“I’m sure,” Light retorted. “That being said, I believe this is the best course of action. Misa will be completely fine, L won’t be able to gain any new evidence against me, and a new Kira will take over. It’s a win-win-win.”

Rem almost snorted, a win-win-win? Well…you’re right ...partially right, that is. You don’t know that Keiko is well aware of your plan, and that she has plans to stop you. Oh well. What you don’t know won’t hurt you. It’s your arrogant attitude that I dislike. You dug your own grave when you refused to take Misa’s feelings seriously. I may not like Keiko, but I do believe I can trust her more than I trust you. At least, once Keiko’s plan is in action, Misa will no longer be a pawn. And soon enough, I won’t even have to deal with you any longer. 

“I’m satisfied with your plan,” the shinigami finally spoke after a moment. “Everything should run smoothly and soon Misa will be free. That’s all I want.”

“Perfect.” Light responded. He smirked, “that’s all you wanted to talk about, correct?”

“Yes.”

Now it’s time for me to inform Keiko… 

/slight timeskip/

Keiko’s POV:

“Kagami-san,” the detective called out to her as he entered the main investigation room. At the sound of his voice, Keiko turned around to face him. He moved to take a seat near the monitors, as usual. The two were now the only ones left at headquarters. Everyone else had either gone to sleep or gone home.

Seeing he had Keiko’s attention, L continued on, “Rem said she wishes to speak to you. She’s expecting you to come meet her in the interrogation room in a few minutes.”

“Alright,” Keiko gave a nod in L’s direction. “Thank you for letting me know.”

That’s right…Light’s gone to bed now…that means it’s safe for Rem and I to meet without arousing any suspicion.   

“Of course,” L replied. The room was silent for a moment, save for the whirring coming from the detective’s laptop. Something that Keiko was sure the detective was very aware of. She knew she was quite aware. Whenever she and the detective spoke one-on-one, something in her stirred and she was always hyper aware of him and her surroundings. Keiko suspected it had something to do with her ever-growing feelings for him.

Wait a moment, Keiko bit her lip in thought. Think. If Rem wants to talk with me, that means it’s probably about-

“It’s about the exchange, yes?” L questioned, breaking through Keiko’s thoughts. 

Keiko gave a small nod, “yes. She’s agreed to tell us the details of the exchange If she wants to meet with me now then I’m assuming she’s found out those details.”

“Sounds about right,” the detective commented. “She met up with Light earlier. If anything, I’m sure she used her power as a shinigami to get the information out of him.”

“I’m sure she did,” Keiko agreed. “Light’s pretty stubborn, after all. I can’t imagine what he’s capable of, but even his powers aren’t any match to Rem’s...I’m sure he didn’t need that much convincing.”

“Light’s capable of quite a bit, I’m sure,” L replied. “Then again, so are we, especially with Rem on our side.”

Keiko gave a soft chuckle. “Of course. And don’t worry, Ryuzaki-san, you’ll be the first to know about the details Rem gives me.”

“Who said I was worried, Kagami-san?” 

A ghost of a smile played on the detective’s lips as the two stared at each other for a moment. His dark eyes bore into hers and she could feel her insides turning into mush and her stomach doing somersaults. Any retort she would have come up with died on her lips without so much as a fighting chance. 

It’s rare that he smiles, but when he does…he has to know the effect he has on me. It’s too obvious. 

“I-I should probably get going,” Keiko managed to stutter out. “Rem’s probably expecting me.”

“Right. Shouldn’t keep a shinigami waiting,” the detective responded, though he kept his gaze on her. Keiko could feel her cheeks turning pink but she attempted to keep her composure as she walked by L to get out into the hallway.

/short timeskip/

“...so that is all of what Light told me about his plans for the death note exchange. He feels, because the location of the shoot is secure, L won’t be able to gather any evidence against himself or Misa. He’s been extra cautious,” the shinigami finished. Her expression was serious and she kept her gaze on Keiko, gauging her reaction. 

A modeling shoot…I certainly wouldn’t have ever expected that. However, Light’s logic is pretty solid, I’ll give him that. He knows what he’s doing in order to keep people off his trail. It’ll make things harder for sure. And, because there are many offices within the building, it’ll be hard to narrow down which company or firm this new Kira works for. L and I will have a lot of work to do, but with Aiber and Wedy’s help, we should be able to narrow it down rather soon. Or so I hope. I can only keep hoping for the best.

“That certainly sounds like him,” Keiko replied. “I wouldn’t expect anything less. He really thought this all through.”

Which will make it all the harder to go after him….

“I was thinking the same thing,” the shinigami responded, shifting her position. “He also made it so he won’t have to be present during the exchange. I noticed that right away. I don’t think he did that by accident.”

I’m sure he did…he’s ensuring that no harm will come to him. Even though it’s risky, the risk only involves Misa and whoever this new Kira is… somehow, this isn’t a surprise to me, he really does only care about himself after all.  

“Of course, there’s no way he would risk that. Not with Ryuzaki still suspecting him. This seems to be the best plan with the least amount of risk for both him and Misa.”

“Exactly,” Rem agreed. The shinigami continued on, a frown visible on her face, “Misa, however, still faces some risk…”

I suspect I know why she’s still worried… 

“Don’t worry,” Keiko gave the shinigami a knowing look, “as agreed, no one will go after Misa. Any evidence collected during this exchange will solely be used to find out the identity of the new Kira. Ryuzaki and I plan to use this new Kira to give us the evidence to convict Light. Besides, as soon as Misa exchanges her death note, she loses her memories, correct? If she doesn’t remember her crime, how can L convict her?”

“Yes, that is correct,” Rem gave a nod. “As soon as Misa gives up ownership of her death note, all her memories of said death note will vanish.”

In a way, that’s scary…Misa will be losing a part of her own memories…all because of this supernatural notebook that gives you the power to kill. I wonder how she got a hold of such a thing in the first place, but I suppose we’ll never know… what matters most is that we capture this new Kira and get him to reveal Light’s true identity… that way, both Kira and the Second Kira are brought to justice… 

“As long as you keep your end of the bargain, then all will be well. I am placing my trust in you, Keiko Kagami. I trust that you will not do anything to destroy that trust,” Rem added. Her gaze still had not left Keiko.

At this, a chill ran down Keiko’s spine, making her feel uneasy. She swallowed hard, meeting the shinigami’s hardened look. 

I know we’re technically on the same side, but she’s still rather terrifying…it’s hard to forget that she’s still a powerful shinigami.  

“Of course, Rem,” Keiko did her best to meet her gaze, “I understand. No matter what happens, know that Misa Amane will not be in any danger. She will be fine…Light and this new Kira, on the other hand, not so much. Rest assured that L and I will do whatever it takes in order to bring them to justice.”

“Good,” Rem exhaled. “I feel like now is a good time to remind you, Keiko Kagami, that so far I’ve upheld my end of the deal. It is now up to you and that detective of yours to bring an end to this.”

“I understand,” Keiko repeated. “As I said, we’ll do whatever is in our power in order to find enough evidence to convict Light…”

He deserves to be brought to justice…he’s a mass murderer…and I’ll stop at nothing until I know this case is closed.  

Keiko continued on, “to be honest, when I first heard that there was a chance that he could be Kira, I didn’t want to believe it. I was blinded by my own bias, my feelings for him. I was a fool and I fell for him. But, now that I know the truth, all I feel towards him is disgust…he’s done some terrible things. Unforgivable things.” 

To think that he fooled me for so long…and now I’m the one fooling him… I don’t like to fool people, but, in his case I almost think he deserves it…he’s not even human in my eyes, he’s a monster…   

“You humans are rather complex with all your emotions,” the shinigami murmured. 

Keiko let out a terse chuckle, “I’m sure it seems like that to you. From your perspective, you only kill to extend your own lifespan, right? We’re living in rather different worlds…”

“That we are,” Rem agreed. “Most shinigami just gamble their life away to kill time…killing isn’t high on our list of priorities. You humans can get rather crafty when a death note falls into your hands.”

“It would appear that nothing good comes from a death note falling into a human’s hands,” Keiko sighed. “I can say that it does more harm than good.”

“You may be right about that, Keiko Kagami,” the shinigami commented. “From what I’ve seen this notebook brings out people’s hatred and greed. Based on your stance in this investigation, I would take it that you agree with me.”

Keiko nodded. “Anyway, I should report back to Ryuzaki. Thank you for giving me this information, Rem. As agreed, we will do our part from here on out. I will probably meet up with you again to keep you updated on our progress...”

“‘Til next time then,” the shinigami responded.

With that, Keiko exited the interrogation room. She headed back toward the main investigation room, back toward L, to deliver the newest information. 

/short timeskip/

“...and that’s all Rem told me,” Keiko took in a breath, relaxing a moment. It was a lot of information she had to remember, but she was certain she had thought of everything. The case and L’s life was resting on this information, of course. 

There’s no way I’d forget, not with his life on the line...

“It’s certainly not what I was expecting, but it’s evident that Light really thought this through,” she added. 

“I see,” L responded, “a modeling shoot. How creative of him…”

Wait a moment… 

“Aiber and Wedy will have enough time to prepare, right?”

L gave a nod. “Yes. They’re the best in their fields, rest assured. They’ll have plenty of time to prepare. Aiber’s exceptional people skills will come in handy, and I have no doubt in Wedy’s abilities to make it past security. I’ll inform them tonight and they’ll take it from here,” the detective replied. “I’m sure everything will run smoothly.”

“Good,” Keiko breathed out in relief. 

One less thing to worry about...

“Thank you, Keiko-chan,” the detective murmured after a moment. 

“Hmm?” Keiko looked over at him, surprise written on her face.

Did he say what I think he just said…?

“Thank you, for going this far. For doing all this,” L repeated. “I know it’s also for the sake of the investigation, but I thought you should know how appreciative I am.”

“I-er, it’s nothing, really,” Keiko could feel her cheeks turning red. She was becoming quite aware of their proximity to each other on the couch. The two were half a cushion apart, somehow rather close but still too far away. Keiko was careful not to scoot too far in, or else the two would be uncomfortably close. Even where she was, she was still very aware of the detective.

“It’s not nothing, you worked so hard,” L’s voice was soft. “You’ve done amazing so far.”

“Ryuzaki-san, I-”

The words died on Keiko’s lips when the detective leaned in, gently brushing aside a stray strand of hair that was blocking her face. She found she forgot how to speak, or even breathe, at his touch. He didn’t move away, as Keiko expected, and the two were face to face, merely inches apart. 

I want to kiss him, so so so badly, Keiko realized, and I don’t know if I can stop myself if he keeps looking at me like that…it’s far too dangerous a situation.  

Keiko was about to turn away when she felt L’s fingertips graze her chin, causing her to stop. She glanced at him, a question in her eyes, only to notice the softness in his gaze. It was a look she hadn’t quite seen before, but she could feel her heart starting to beat ever so loudly in her chest. 

His voice was quiet, barely audible, “Keiko.”

Keiko was unsure of what to do, or what L’s motive was. She wasn’t sure if the detective himself knew what he was going to do. From the look in his eyes, he was almost as startled by his actions as she was. He scooted himself over, closing the gap between them even more. Keiko’s breathing heightened in anticipation.

Is he going to…? She couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence. Keiko closed her eyes, waiting for the detective to make a decision. Disappointment rose in her chest when the detective lowered his fingers from her chin. 

I suppose I was wrong...

Keiko was about to open her eyes once more when she felt the detective’s arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. If she wasn’t mistaken, his heart was beating just as fast as her own. She could feel the warmth radiating from his body and she felt as though she could burst. 

He’s…holding…me. 

Somehow the act felt way more intimate than a kiss. The last time she had been this close to him, as far as she could remember, was after she had woken up from her nightmare months ago. That time, it had been her that had pulled him close, and she was still half asleep when she did it. 

As the two parted, a single thought was on her mind, he held me…he trusts me…could this mean that he...? She couldn’t finish her thought, but the question lingered on. Deep down, she knew that, even if she had hope of his feelings for her, even if she had some proof, it wouldn’t be wise to act on impulse. Not when Light still had control. Not when L’s life was still in danger.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Whirlwind

Fandom: Bleach Rating: Teen Genre: Friendship/Romance Characters: Apacci, Yylfordt

The first time Emilou Apacci met Yylfordt Granz, she hated him.

Apacci was walking along the corridors of Las Noches with Harribel and the girls, minding her own business (well, not really – Las Noches was huge and of course she wanted to know everything about her new home), when the corridor in front of her exploded, debris flying as something was apparently thrown through it. High levels of reiatsu supported this theory when she and the girls were forced to stagger backwards slightly, although Harribel was unaffected, as a monster of an arrancar forced his way through the remains of the wall.

Clearly this beast was hunting something – well, someone. It was probably a poor unfortunate arrancar that happened to get in its way at the wrong moment. She was proved right when the initial debris settled enough for long blond hair to be visible as its owner stood up, evading a punch from the giant as they did so.

Apacci's first thought was to go to their aid, believing them to be female – what male had hair like that – but as the rest of the dust settled she could make out more details and realised that, astonishingly, they were male. A male with a very cocky grin, who was calling out various jeers and clearly didn't consider himself to be a victim even though it was clear who the stronger arrancar was.

Any desire to help fled. Males could fend for themselves, for starters, and this one's attitude just screamed that the whole situation was probably his own fault. Still, it was an interesting show and she was clearly not the only one to think that way, judging by the small crowd of arrancar coming to spectate.

One of the giant's lunges appeared to make contact, as the blond male was thrown back into the wall, not far from where she was standing, and she turned to look at the new mess, surprised that he hadn't been sent through the wall, considering how much of a hit that had been.

For a moment, everything was still, and she wondered if he was dead. Served him right.

But then there was movement as he pulled himself to his feet, not as shakily as she'd been expecting, either. Drawing himself up to his full height – he was a fair bit taller than her, it seemed – he spat out a mouthful of blood onto the floor before wiping his mouth with his sleeve and facing his opponent.

"You hit like a girl," he drawled, extending an arm in an obvious 'come' gesture. "Is this the extent of the diez's powers?" His jeers were interrupted by a roar from the giant, who was apparently an Espada, and a punch, which he just barely evaded. The monster pulled back his arm for another hit and the blond's body tensed slightly, preparing to spring out of the way again, Apacci assumed.

"Yammy." The monotonous voice cut through the atmosphere like a knife and the diez's arm lowered to his side, the giant looking over his shoulder at the tiny white-skinned arrancar that had just appeared. "We have a mission. Come."

"Once I've killed this one, Ulquiorra," Yammy retorted, his arm once again rising. He was interrupted by the white arrancar.

"There is no need to waste your strength on trash of that calibre," he droned, turning and walking away. "Come."

Apacci was surprised when Yammy obeyed, shuffling away without a backwards glance at the blond, who still had that cocky grin etched firmly on his face as he watched the retreating back.

"Dammit," an arrancar near her muttered quietly. "It was good watching that bastard getting beat up for a change." Other quiet voices agreed, never above a murmur. Apacci wasn't sure which of the battling arrancar they were talking about, until she noticed that the blond was suddenly standing behind the first one to speak, a cero charging in the hand pressed to the arrancar's back.

"If you wanted to see me getting beat up, you should have trained until you could do it yourself, bro," he taunted, although the look in his eyes was slightly more serious than the tone. "Too late now, though." The cero released, obliterating the arrancar with minimal effort, but maximum mess.

Apacci had seen enough, and was beginning to walk away, accompanied by the other females, when the blond appeared in front of them.

"You lot are new, sisters," he said with a grin. "Haven't seen you before. I'd remember such pretty faces." Apacci didn't know if she was imagining that he looked at her a bit more than the others, but that didn't matter. This guy was getting on her nerves, and her leg struck out, determined to kick that smug smile straight off his face.

He caught her ankle without any visible effort at all and she felt like screaming in frustration, before one hand tried to punch him. He caught that too. Now she knew she had his undivided attention. His crimson eyes were fixed on her. Not liking it, she sent her other fist flying towards his face, just as a bellow made itself known.

"Yylfordt!"

The blond dropped her ankle and caught her fist instead as she staggered slightly.

"I guess that's my cue to go," he said nonchalantly, that smirk still on his face. "You'll have to beat me up some other time, sis." He leaned in slightly and winked, his face almost split in half by his grin, before disappearing.

She was frozen for just a moment before her face flushed in anger and she began to yell profanities in the vague direction he'd disappeared. She hadn't even been an arrancar a day and already she'd found someone she wanted very, very dead.

The next time she saw him was several days later. She was still wandering the vastness that was Las Noches, learning her way around, when she saw him leaning nonchalantly against the wall. From the way he was looking at her, it was almost as if he had been waiting for her.

Well, fine. If he wanted to die so much, she'd oblige. There was no waiting around to greet him – she stormed straight up to him, her fist headed for his face while her leg came up to kick his chest in.

Just like last time, he caught both attacks, seemingly unaffected in the slightest, which irritated her. He wasn't an Espada, she knew that much about him, so he couldn't be much different in power to her.

"Slow down, sis," he laughed, letting her leg go but not her wrist. "I don't even know your name yet!" She scowled, debating whether this low-life really deserved to know her name. While she pondered she watched him closely. He wasn't covered in blood this time, and his uniform was spotless. Clearly he was recovered from whatever damage he'd taken from the diez's attacks.

"Apacci," she finally conceded, although accompanied the answer with a knee towards his groin. His hand once again got in the way, to her extreme frustration.

"Yylfordt," he replied. She'd guessed that already. "Nice to meet you, sis." She tugged her wrist back before aiming another punch at his nose. He knew her name now – he could bloody well use it!

He caught her fist again, before glancing to one side. She wasn't falling for that trick, even if he even schooled his face into a different expression – a mixture of exasperation and sulkiness – and kicked him.

Her foot met air as he suddenly appeared behind her.

"Gotta go, sis," he said, almost sounding apologetic. "Later, Apacci."

By the time she realised he'd actually used her name, he was gone. With a huff, she stalked off back to Harribel-sama's palace.

"If you walk around with that scowl on your face all the time, you'll get stuck that way," Sung-sun murmured airily as she returned, and her frown deepened.

"Shut up, snake-bitch!" she snapped.

"She's not like that all the time," Mila Rose piped up, her arms crossed under her breasts. "I bet a certain blond arrancar's got under her skin again."

"He has not!" Apacci barked, fuming. Yylfordt had not got under her skin. Not at all. He was just an arrogant, smirking good for nothing with an aptitude for running away when it suited him. "Bloody coward," she grumbled under her breath.

Chuckles told her that both her companions had heard her, and she stomped back to her room. She'd beat him. That would show them all.

The next time she saw him, it was somewhere she had never expected to, although in hindsight it was probably obvious.

Aizen-sama had called a meeting. That was not unusual – Harribel-sama appeared to spend much of her time secluded away with the rest of the Espada in conference with their shinigami leaders. What was unusual was that this time, the gathering was also extended to fracciónes. She and the girls proudly followed their leader into the large room, standing behind her as she perched on an outcrop that served the female as a seat.

Looking around, she took in her fellow arrancar. There was Yammy, and Ulquiorra, and the other arrancar she had come to know as the Espada – Starrk, asleep in the corner, Barragan on his throne of bones and surrounded by his personal miniature army, Nnoitra with his silent fracción standing to attention behind him, Zommari and Aaroniero both silent and alone, and the pink-haired freak known as Szayelaporro she had heard very quickly to stay away from. They were waiting for one last Espada, it appeared.

The door slammed open with far more force than necessary, and the violent, destructive and abrupt Espada she disliked almost as much as Yylfordt stormed in, hands shoved deep in his pockets and a scowl on his face. She didn't like him; even when he scowled, his eyes still held a predatory gleam that sent a shiver down her spine.

What she liked even less was his posse behind him. She hadn't known he had fracciónes – the way he acted, she didn't think any would survive – but he was trailed by five arrancar, making his fracción army the second largest present. Her eyes followed one of the five, narrowed in distaste as Grimmjow sat on his perch, most of his fracciónes gathering behind him, either standing or in a crouch. All except one, as Yylfordt nonchalantly joined his master on the perch, the only non-Espada to dare to sit.

No-one commented on it, although out of the corner of her eye she saw Szayelaporro's eyes change as they met with the crimson ones belonging to her nemesis. Something like annoyance, she thought, while Yylfordt's eyes held clear amusement, and even a challenge. Interesting.

She hated him even more.

Aizen-sama arrived, his timing so perfectly after Grimmjow's arrival that she knew it was no coincidence. His eyes passed over them all, not even giving Yylfordt's blasé position a second glance before he began to talk.

The meeting passed without much incident, if she ignored Grimmjow's interruptions at everything he didn't agree with, which was a lot. She was amazed that Aizen-sama let him get away with so much, when no-one else dared even breathe loudly during the meeting. Even Yylfordt wasn't that stupid, although now she saw where his suicidal attitude came from. Like master, like fracción. If she ever resembled Harribel-sama so much, she'd be honoured. Then again, her mistress was a far better role model than Grimmjow.

Leaving the meeting room, she found him blocking her way in the corridor. Well, he was slouching against the wall, with his master and other fracciónes a short way away, but she had to walk past him. So he was blocking her way. Especially when he greeted her with a smirk, and called her 'sis' again.

He was just begging to be kicked, so she obliged, only to snarl in frustration as he caught her attack. There was no way he was stronger than her. He had to have some trick up his sleeve. She reclaimed her leg as she punched his face, only for that to be caught as well.

"Move out of the way," a smooth, yet irritated voice, ordered, and she looked over her shoulder to see Szayelaporro there, who brushed past the two of them and continued on his way. "As entertaining as this must be, I have no wish to watch a bull-headed idiot get beaten by a woman."

"Love you, too, lil bro," Yylfordt retorted at the retreating back. A gloved hand waved disdainfully at him as Szayelaporro turned a corner.

"Don't come crying to me when you lose, aniki," floated back at them, and Yylfordt chuckled.

Apacci was confused, but filed that away later to think about when there wasn't an annoying blond in her face. Only one thing was important from the octava's little interjection, and that was that she was going to win. An Espada knew she could beat the hell out of this blond jerk, and she was going to prove him right.

She ignored the part of her brain, which sounded suspiciously like the observing Sung-sun, that said he had not been serious and was just using her as a verbal barb against the blond. She was not another arrancar's weapon!

He still had hold of her fist, so she threw the other one, accompanied by a kick. He only had two hands, and if he let go of her fist that would hit him, too. She had him cornered.

His head tilted to the side and her fist buried itself in the wall where it had been, catching some of his hair in the process, as he caught her leg. He smirked at her triumphantly.

"What now, sis?" he gloated. "Szayelaporro always talks nonsense, by the way." She glowered at him. She was going to wipe that smug look right off his face!

The question was, how? Whatever trick it was he used. It blocked everything she threw at him.

She took another look at his smirking face, as he opened his mouth to no doubt say some other degenerate thing she didn't want to hear. She really didn't want to hear it, and had a flash of inspiration.

She crashed her lips against his, and it was her turn to smirk as she felt him gasp, his hold on her wrist slackening. He hadn't anticipated that.

Tempting as it was to use the distraction to beat him to a pulp, it was more satisfying to just back up and walk away, not looking at him. Well, she snuck a glance out of the corner of her eye and saw his cheeks were more flushed than usual, but that was it and she was careful not to let anyone notice as she strode off, head high and satisfied smirk on her face.

As she and the girls left, turning the same corner Szayelaporro had earlier, she heard raucous laughter.

"She got you there, Yylfordt!"

She didn't see him again for a week, but when she finally found him in the corridor, the confidence he exuded didn't seem quite so sure of itself.

Apacci, on the other hand, was very sure of herself. With the help of a few quiet words from Harribel-sama – not the girls, who thought she was being stupid in what she believed was their first ever agreement – she had thought very carefully about her relationship with the blond. Harribel-sama was of the opinion that the blond had been flirting the whole time, and backed up her point with his lack of complaint about the kiss.

For her part, Apacci was forced to accept that she had been obsessing about him a lot, even if it was all negative. Again, Harribel-sama had had an opinion, which was that she was protesting too much.

Well, either way, the kiss had been a good one, so she strode over to him, watching him tense as his eyes flicked over her body in an attempt to work out what she was about to do.

Despite his preparations, he still clearly hadn't considered a second kiss possible as she caught his collar with both hands and slammed him against the wall for a repeat. He didn't respond this time, either, although he was watching her curiously as she pulled away, not letting go of his collar this time.

"What are you trying to start, Apacci?" he asked her, his tone as serious as she'd ever heard it. "If you're not, walk away now."

Apacci didn't know what she was trying to start, except it seemed like it would involve seeing the blond a lot more often. His head was getting closer to hers again and she made a snap decision, pulling him across the small gap and kissing him again.

This time he responded, and she decided that this was the right decision. Harribel-sama had been right. Then again, she usually was.

From then on, she saw a lot more of Yylfordt Granz – she finally found out his last name, and it confirmed what his interaction with Szayelaporro had hinted although she had been surprised to discover he was the oldest – and didn't regret it at all. His attitude had a certain charm to it, when viewed correctly, and his grin was actually quite alluring.

And, of course, his kisses were fantastic.

Some months later, she wandered over to their usual meeting place, wanting to know what was going on. He had disappeared not long after Ulquiorra and Yammy's report on the substitute shinigami, and she wasn't happy. Still, he would reappear soon. He always did. He'd probably just been sent out recruiting, or his brother had demanded his presence in his lab, as had been becoming rather frequent ("It's fine, he just wants to check some things"). He'd be back soon.

She waited for hours, tapping her foot to measure the time. Sometimes he took a while. Sometimes.

"All arrancar are to report to the meeting hall." Aaroniero's annoying broadcast cut through her musings and she scowled, but moved. At least Yylfordt would be there.

It was a short meeting, and Yylfordt wasn't there.

He'd never be there again.

[venenorita]

❝ There a reason yer so damn grumpy? ❞

@astrcpi@astrcpi

She could not believe how fucking angry this made her. Almost immediately, a hateful look pierced from her directly into the woman who had so casually thrown that question at her.

A reason?

A REASON?

Of course she’d fucking ask that. This woman didn’t know anything about being a hollow. She didn’t know anything about the endless cold dessert. She didn’t know anything about that deep, soul-boring hunger. Nothing about the sheer terror of chasing someone else down, fighting, ignoring the fact that they’re just as hungry and scared as you are, because as much as you feel bad for them, you know that if you don’t kill them. Murder them. Break them. EAT them. That you’ll become nothing but a bare beast who will do all of that anyway.She knew NOTHING of finally being FREE of that. Of having a Messiah. Of seeing some man walk into that dead, horrible, vicious world and bring order. Bring safety. Bring SANITY. And what did she know of the sheer bliss of that man choosing her as his attendant?

Only to have it all. go. to Hell. 

To lose all of that relief. All of that stability. All of that sanity. All because of one. Weak. Whining. Sniveling. PATHETIC, bitch of a human.

A Human that knew nothing of that hunger. A Human that knew nothing of that fear. A Human that knew nothing but the pathetic woes of blessed humans, of a life merely sprinkled with sad beginnings, and then STUFFED full of nothing but loving, caring friends. While SHE was left with a broken shell of a temporary peace. With barely-sane monsters who even though they don’t have to, they still break her. Hurt her. Tear her down for FUN. Because they fucking COULD.

And that Stupid human got to have a happy ending. Rescued to life happily ever fucking after.

And she got to sit here. Staring up at a woman who had slain more of her kind than Loly had seen sunrises. And worst of all. that cold look on the shinigami’s face told Loly that she couldn’t say a fucking thing. Even though she wanted to scream. To shout. To cry at this smug shinigami. That if she did….she could be as good as Dead.

So…. like so many other times. She swallowed her pain and anger.

“No…..”