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Entry tags:
monthly word count - may 2020
TOTAL: 14 132
not bad!
POSTED:
-Naruto: blood rare and sweet as cherry wine chapters 1 to 3, complete; Founders era, Madara/Tobirama/Izuna, littermates ABO. (8 850 words)
Also posted, though written earlier:
-Bleach: Howling Outside Your Door - chapter 1; Ichigo/Grimmjow and his fraccion, ABO
WORK IN PROGRESS
-naruto: cherry wine discarded snippets (404 words)
-naruto: cherry wine sequel (3 669 words)
-bleach: daemon AU: fullbringers fic (183 words)
-bleach: Howling Outside Your Door (749 words)
-bleach: bloodsport chapter 4 (277 words that i'm gonna have to discard because the scene no longer fits and was going nowhere but hey words are words. SHRUGS.)
giving myself a pass on the naruto avalanche because 1. i love the worldbuilding so much oh my god and 2. i also worked out bleach psychic wolves AND bloodsport plottings that were stuck. yay me. :D
i have no goddamn clue why so much ABO, but hey. 'tis the season or something.
--
-- bleach daemon AU --
"Did you want to spar today?"
"Sure," Ichigo says, casually nonchalant. Rikuto betrays him by hopping up on her four paws and letting her tail point straight up. Di Trombolini laughs at them as he throws Ichigo a practice blade.
"We don't want Don Grimmjow to come back and find you allowed yourself to dull away, do we."
"Sure as hell don't."
"Indeed." The asshole bats his eyelashes. "It is no way to treat such an ardent suitor."
Ichigo throws a punch with the hand holding his practice sword, but mostly because that is a stupid word, and the day Grimmjow brings him flowers at his dad's house is the day Ichigo finally finds his death via aneurysm, so.
Honestly all words sound stupid when they're about him and Grimmjow.
--
--bleach fraccion ABO--
The body hesitates, then slinks along the wall toward the kitchen corner, watching Shawlong and Yylfordt especially warily. Half of Shawlong's blade is still out of its sheath; Grimmjow hisses, teeth bared, gives him a quick furious look to put it away before Kurosaki notices, because the body sure as shit has noticed.
Shawlong hums his acknowledgement, eyes tracing Kurosaki's face thoughtfully, but Grimmjow can see from the corner of his eye that the guy is watching his body with his lower lip jutting out in a sulk. Shawlong glances over there, too (turning his head too slowly, too cautiously not to still be in pain.)
"So... Kon-kun, was it?"
The body's head pops out of the fridge, over the counter. "Uh, yes?"
"If you don't mind, what are you exactly?"
"Oh." The body blinks. He looks just as dumb as Kurosaki, but in a weirdly distinct way, like his eyes droop more at the corners maybe. His thoughtful pout isn't quite the same either.
He rakes them with another quick glance, and then he grins like an asshole. "I'm an artificial soul that Ichigo kidnapped to do his bidding."
"--Hey!"
--
--discarded bloodsport snippet--
He swung his feet wide to gain himself enough space to slide over the edge, land down. He was still sore. Ugh. Really needed to get moving.
Also needed to figure out if Luppi or Nelliel had sneaked in some details it would fuck him over not to know. He got his shower stuff and a change of uniform, frowning down at himself. The fuck was he even wearing? Was that Edrad's? He was swimming in the stuff; the bottom of the pants flopped over his toes. The drawstring waistband was cinched ridiculously tight. They coulda let him be naked, he thought, vaguely disgruntled. He was pretty sure he hadn't gotten dressed again after his last shower.
He shouldered past Nnoitra, nodded to Shawlong, who fell into step with him as he trudged down the corridor.
"I'll be waiting in the mess with lunch for you, shall I?"
"Sounds good. Who else is there?"
The sigh the man gifted him with was just a tiny bit theatrical. Grimmjow arched an eyebrow. "Everyone."
"... Oh, gross."
"Mm. They set up a scrabble tournament."
Already? It was only the fifth day and they were that bored? Well, fuck, this trip was going to get annoying really fast. Grimmjow considered grabbing his tray and retreating to his bunk; then considered the likelihood that Nnoitra would come fish him out by the ankle and they'd end up having a fistfight in the tiny fucking cabin. Exhausted as he was, he was going to lose pretty badly, no matter that close quarters was better for him than for that giraffe fucker.
--
--Naruto ABO sequel --
Uuugh. He didn't want to ask. (He really wanted to ask.) He shouldn't ask. It wasn't... hadn't... He really needed more practice at one-night-stands and moving on, didn't he. Hashirama smelled omega but also like littermate-of-my-mate, and Madara had ended up going through a bit of a ghost rut yesterday, a sympathy reaction come too late to be of any use; he was still oversensitive to Tobirama's smell. The strength of will he'd had to exert when they unsealed his fucking jizzed-up pants in the fucking council house -- gghk.
"... So he was just fine, then. Hmph. Figures."
"Oh, if we ignore the bruising, the rope burns, the cuts, and the bite mark on his neck, he was peachy!" Hashirama beamed. "So, which one of you did that?"
-- Fuck. "Izuna," Madara replied immediately. Hashirama only smiled brighter. "... I needed to rattle him, okay? It meant nothing."
"Oh, whyever are you saying that, what else could it mean?"
Uuugh, this goddamn troll. Madara glared, arms crossed defensively, face a little warm. "Shut up already."
Huffing, he leaned back against the tree trunk. Hashirama kept smiling at him, slowly losing the manic brightness for gentler, more real affection; Madara cleared his throat, sighed.
It had been years since they were friends. It felt a lot better than it had any right to feel, getting a little slice of it back. Especially since he couldn't keep it.
"You're a pain, Senju."
"You love me, though."
Eyes narrowed, Madara opened his mouth to shoot back, 'You know what else I love? Your brother naked,' and immediately shut it with a groan, eyes squinched closed.
"I just had the perfect comeback and I can't even use it without it becoming mutually assured destruction. But I want you to know you would have cried."
not bad!
POSTED:
-Naruto: blood rare and sweet as cherry wine chapters 1 to 3, complete; Founders era, Madara/Tobirama/Izuna, littermates ABO. (8 850 words)
Also posted, though written earlier:
-Bleach: Howling Outside Your Door - chapter 1; Ichigo/Grimmjow and his fraccion, ABO
WORK IN PROGRESS
-naruto: cherry wine discarded snippets (404 words)
-naruto: cherry wine sequel (3 669 words)
-bleach: daemon AU: fullbringers fic (183 words)
-bleach: Howling Outside Your Door (749 words)
-bleach: bloodsport chapter 4 (277 words that i'm gonna have to discard because the scene no longer fits and was going nowhere but hey words are words. SHRUGS.)
giving myself a pass on the naruto avalanche because 1. i love the worldbuilding so much oh my god and 2. i also worked out bleach psychic wolves AND bloodsport plottings that were stuck. yay me. :D
i have no goddamn clue why so much ABO, but hey. 'tis the season or something.
--
-- bleach daemon AU --
"Did you want to spar today?"
"Sure," Ichigo says, casually nonchalant. Rikuto betrays him by hopping up on her four paws and letting her tail point straight up. Di Trombolini laughs at them as he throws Ichigo a practice blade.
"We don't want Don Grimmjow to come back and find you allowed yourself to dull away, do we."
"Sure as hell don't."
"Indeed." The asshole bats his eyelashes. "It is no way to treat such an ardent suitor."
Ichigo throws a punch with the hand holding his practice sword, but mostly because that is a stupid word, and the day Grimmjow brings him flowers at his dad's house is the day Ichigo finally finds his death via aneurysm, so.
Honestly all words sound stupid when they're about him and Grimmjow.
--
--bleach fraccion ABO--
The body hesitates, then slinks along the wall toward the kitchen corner, watching Shawlong and Yylfordt especially warily. Half of Shawlong's blade is still out of its sheath; Grimmjow hisses, teeth bared, gives him a quick furious look to put it away before Kurosaki notices, because the body sure as shit has noticed.
Shawlong hums his acknowledgement, eyes tracing Kurosaki's face thoughtfully, but Grimmjow can see from the corner of his eye that the guy is watching his body with his lower lip jutting out in a sulk. Shawlong glances over there, too (turning his head too slowly, too cautiously not to still be in pain.)
"So... Kon-kun, was it?"
The body's head pops out of the fridge, over the counter. "Uh, yes?"
"If you don't mind, what are you exactly?"
"Oh." The body blinks. He looks just as dumb as Kurosaki, but in a weirdly distinct way, like his eyes droop more at the corners maybe. His thoughtful pout isn't quite the same either.
He rakes them with another quick glance, and then he grins like an asshole. "I'm an artificial soul that Ichigo kidnapped to do his bidding."
"--Hey!"
--
--discarded bloodsport snippet--
He swung his feet wide to gain himself enough space to slide over the edge, land down. He was still sore. Ugh. Really needed to get moving.
Also needed to figure out if Luppi or Nelliel had sneaked in some details it would fuck him over not to know. He got his shower stuff and a change of uniform, frowning down at himself. The fuck was he even wearing? Was that Edrad's? He was swimming in the stuff; the bottom of the pants flopped over his toes. The drawstring waistband was cinched ridiculously tight. They coulda let him be naked, he thought, vaguely disgruntled. He was pretty sure he hadn't gotten dressed again after his last shower.
He shouldered past Nnoitra, nodded to Shawlong, who fell into step with him as he trudged down the corridor.
"I'll be waiting in the mess with lunch for you, shall I?"
"Sounds good. Who else is there?"
The sigh the man gifted him with was just a tiny bit theatrical. Grimmjow arched an eyebrow. "Everyone."
"... Oh, gross."
"Mm. They set up a scrabble tournament."
Already? It was only the fifth day and they were that bored? Well, fuck, this trip was going to get annoying really fast. Grimmjow considered grabbing his tray and retreating to his bunk; then considered the likelihood that Nnoitra would come fish him out by the ankle and they'd end up having a fistfight in the tiny fucking cabin. Exhausted as he was, he was going to lose pretty badly, no matter that close quarters was better for him than for that giraffe fucker.
--
--Naruto ABO sequel --
Uuugh. He didn't want to ask. (He really wanted to ask.) He shouldn't ask. It wasn't... hadn't... He really needed more practice at one-night-stands and moving on, didn't he. Hashirama smelled omega but also like littermate-of-my-mate, and Madara had ended up going through a bit of a ghost rut yesterday, a sympathy reaction come too late to be of any use; he was still oversensitive to Tobirama's smell. The strength of will he'd had to exert when they unsealed his fucking jizzed-up pants in the fucking council house -- gghk.
"... So he was just fine, then. Hmph. Figures."
"Oh, if we ignore the bruising, the rope burns, the cuts, and the bite mark on his neck, he was peachy!" Hashirama beamed. "So, which one of you did that?"
-- Fuck. "Izuna," Madara replied immediately. Hashirama only smiled brighter. "... I needed to rattle him, okay? It meant nothing."
"Oh, whyever are you saying that, what else could it mean?"
Uuugh, this goddamn troll. Madara glared, arms crossed defensively, face a little warm. "Shut up already."
Huffing, he leaned back against the tree trunk. Hashirama kept smiling at him, slowly losing the manic brightness for gentler, more real affection; Madara cleared his throat, sighed.
It had been years since they were friends. It felt a lot better than it had any right to feel, getting a little slice of it back. Especially since he couldn't keep it.
"You're a pain, Senju."
"You love me, though."
Eyes narrowed, Madara opened his mouth to shoot back, 'You know what else I love? Your brother naked,' and immediately shut it with a groan, eyes squinched closed.
"I just had the perfect comeback and I can't even use it without it becoming mutually assured destruction. But I want you to know you would have cried."