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monthly word count: june
TOTAL: 12 415.
not horrible!
POSTED: nothing.
(posted chapter 2 of the bleach ABO ichigo/grimmjow&his fraccion fic but that was written beforehand.)
WIP
-grimmjow/ichigo psychic wolves chapter 6 (280 words :X )
-madatobiizu ABO sequel chapter 1 (6 435 words)
-madatobiizu ABO sequel chapter 2 (920 words)
-madatobiizu ABO sequel discarded snippets (317 words)
-- (so total: 7 672 words)
-mada/tobi: baby brother rescue IT *WILL* BE A ONE SHOT AAAAA fic (4 150 words)
-mada/tobi baby bro rescue discarded snippets (311 words)
-grimmichi psychic wolves-
Grimmjow understood enough spoken Japanese to pick up his own, oddly accented name and "where are you from", though barely. He hummed absently in acknowledgement that a question had been asked and took another bite of the six-eggs, weirdly rolled-up omelette Ichigo's little sister had slid in front of his face a minute ago. Fucking delicious, but then again he hadn't eaten since yesterday.
"She asks where you're from," Ichigo translated a minute later, after the tiny woman was done badgering him. Then he rolled his eyes, prodding with his mind instead. Which you knew. Jerk.
"Iunno. Brazil, probably." He stuffed an improbably big bite in his mouth. Pantera had refused to be in the same room as the other wolves, so the other sister had filled her a couple of bowls in the garden. Grimmjow could feel the satisfied, ravenous crunch of wet food and bones in her maw. Damn but the Kurosakis were good to their guests.
"Probably?!" he could feel Ichigo echo to him as the wolf cops replied.
Because they weren't even military, of course, which would have been okayish. They were very visibly here to regulate his fucking presence, if they could figure out who to fine. Least that was the vibe he got. Nobody had even asked his superior officer's name yet or anything. He wondered if they were so nice because of Ichigo, but he wasn't sure that it made sense. Ichigo was a civilian; he could have friends amongst officials, sure, but would they really play that nice on his behalf?
Do I look like a tourist who got turned around in Tokyo or something?
--
-madatobiizu ABO chapter 1-
"Niisan?"
"--My bad."
He almost waved it off, said it was nothing, pointless woolgathering. What use would it be, bringing Izuna's mood down?
But they never talked about the painful things, did they.
"Wondering how Kijitora would have handled it."
"--Kiji-nii?"
Izuna hesitated; then slowly took a seat at his side, looking unsure.
"I don't really... I don't remember him enough to even guess. Would he... What would he even want?"
Probably not peace. That had only become Madara's obsession after his death. They'd been too young to even think that far before then.
"Sabigata liked princess stories. Sweeping brides off their feet as bandits hunted them down. That series of adventure books with a family group of about twenty people. I bet he'd have been in our ears all day and night about snatching up both Hashirama and his brother and going to conquer the daimyo or something."
"Pfft." Izuna smiled despite himself, something tender and bitter both. "Maybe at fourteen, but any older than that..."
Madara clicked his tongue. "At fourteen I was meeting with Hashirama at the river. I would wager you anything he would have gone for him. He'd have thought it was romantic and fated."
"Heh!" Izuna's eyes crinkled. "And Kiji-nii?"
Madara thought about it, then gave a decisive nod. His throat felt tight, but his mouth was still curved in a smile. "Kiji would have yelled at Sabi for talking Hashirama into stealing his first kiss."
Izuna laughed, leaning into his shoulder, eyes a little too glossy. Madara gazed away at the forest, still smiling faintly, pretended his own sight wasn't wavering as if underwater either.
He had no idea if any of that would ever have been true. Sabi had died at nine; Kijitora at eight. Even their still-careless young teenage selves were something Madara had trouble extrapolating toward; their adult ones were impossible. Who even knew how many things would have happened to mature them, to scar them up? He spoke with conviction anyway, willing it to be true, to have been true, to still be something that existed somewhere in some better universe.
Eventually his little brother sighed, melancholic and amused, shook himself, and nudged him. His eyes were crinkled with slightly more tenderness than mockery.
"So what you're saying is, you guys would have ended up married to Hashirama."
"Aha!" Madara shot back, and finally climbed back to his feet; "but it wouldn't have been my fault."
--
-tobirama mildly fucks up the universe to get his little brothers back and madara is like, oh, HEY.-
Tobirama's guts were a block of ice.
Holding Kawarama was a man he'd seen around on the battlefield -- frequently relaying orders. High-ranking. Strong -- three tomoe. Mostly genjutsu.
At his back was Uchiha Madara.
Nobody but Hashirama had ever made him take a single step back.
"Madara," he said somehow. His lips were numb. He couldn't look away from Kawarama's dark panicked eyes, Kawarama's bared teeth and small, already-callused hands.
"Tobi-nii--"
"Don't move," he ordered. His voice felt blank, his head felt blank. The portal kept draining him drip by drip. "Don't move." He wasn't dead yet. They'd stopped their child-killing squads. Kawarama was too young to be killed now.
Madara's attention was a suffocating weight on his lungs, all sharp edges and deadly readiness.
"... Good," the man praised, like Tobirama was a disobedient dog who had finally performed as expected. He shifted his weight, started pulling Tobirama backwards by the hair -- about to drag him, to force him to stumble along outside of the seal. He must have known -- he must be able to tell how terrified Tobirama was for the boy in his clansman's grasp, he could tell how stiff, how petrified -- "You're coming with us, and then you're going to talk."
The grass on the other side of the portal was moving. It wouldn't be very long now. Tobirama dug his fingers into the earth, a laughably inefficient way to slow him down. "I'll let you kill me afterwards."
Madara paused, made a brief, baffled noise. Tobirama's back bumped against his knee.
"I'll let you kill me. I won't fight. Just don't -- don't stop me now."
not horrible!
POSTED: nothing.
(posted chapter 2 of the bleach ABO ichigo/grimmjow&his fraccion fic but that was written beforehand.)
WIP
-grimmjow/ichigo psychic wolves chapter 6 (280 words :X )
-madatobiizu ABO sequel chapter 1 (6 435 words)
-madatobiizu ABO sequel chapter 2 (920 words)
-madatobiizu ABO sequel discarded snippets (317 words)
-- (so total: 7 672 words)
-mada/tobi: baby brother rescue IT *WILL* BE A ONE SHOT AAAAA fic (4 150 words)
-mada/tobi baby bro rescue discarded snippets (311 words)
-grimmichi psychic wolves-
Grimmjow understood enough spoken Japanese to pick up his own, oddly accented name and "where are you from", though barely. He hummed absently in acknowledgement that a question had been asked and took another bite of the six-eggs, weirdly rolled-up omelette Ichigo's little sister had slid in front of his face a minute ago. Fucking delicious, but then again he hadn't eaten since yesterday.
"She asks where you're from," Ichigo translated a minute later, after the tiny woman was done badgering him. Then he rolled his eyes, prodding with his mind instead. Which you knew. Jerk.
"Iunno. Brazil, probably." He stuffed an improbably big bite in his mouth. Pantera had refused to be in the same room as the other wolves, so the other sister had filled her a couple of bowls in the garden. Grimmjow could feel the satisfied, ravenous crunch of wet food and bones in her maw. Damn but the Kurosakis were good to their guests.
"Probably?!" he could feel Ichigo echo to him as the wolf cops replied.
Because they weren't even military, of course, which would have been okayish. They were very visibly here to regulate his fucking presence, if they could figure out who to fine. Least that was the vibe he got. Nobody had even asked his superior officer's name yet or anything. He wondered if they were so nice because of Ichigo, but he wasn't sure that it made sense. Ichigo was a civilian; he could have friends amongst officials, sure, but would they really play that nice on his behalf?
Do I look like a tourist who got turned around in Tokyo or something?
--
-madatobiizu ABO chapter 1-
"Niisan?"
"--My bad."
He almost waved it off, said it was nothing, pointless woolgathering. What use would it be, bringing Izuna's mood down?
But they never talked about the painful things, did they.
"Wondering how Kijitora would have handled it."
"--Kiji-nii?"
Izuna hesitated; then slowly took a seat at his side, looking unsure.
"I don't really... I don't remember him enough to even guess. Would he... What would he even want?"
Probably not peace. That had only become Madara's obsession after his death. They'd been too young to even think that far before then.
"Sabigata liked princess stories. Sweeping brides off their feet as bandits hunted them down. That series of adventure books with a family group of about twenty people. I bet he'd have been in our ears all day and night about snatching up both Hashirama and his brother and going to conquer the daimyo or something."
"Pfft." Izuna smiled despite himself, something tender and bitter both. "Maybe at fourteen, but any older than that..."
Madara clicked his tongue. "At fourteen I was meeting with Hashirama at the river. I would wager you anything he would have gone for him. He'd have thought it was romantic and fated."
"Heh!" Izuna's eyes crinkled. "And Kiji-nii?"
Madara thought about it, then gave a decisive nod. His throat felt tight, but his mouth was still curved in a smile. "Kiji would have yelled at Sabi for talking Hashirama into stealing his first kiss."
Izuna laughed, leaning into his shoulder, eyes a little too glossy. Madara gazed away at the forest, still smiling faintly, pretended his own sight wasn't wavering as if underwater either.
He had no idea if any of that would ever have been true. Sabi had died at nine; Kijitora at eight. Even their still-careless young teenage selves were something Madara had trouble extrapolating toward; their adult ones were impossible. Who even knew how many things would have happened to mature them, to scar them up? He spoke with conviction anyway, willing it to be true, to have been true, to still be something that existed somewhere in some better universe.
Eventually his little brother sighed, melancholic and amused, shook himself, and nudged him. His eyes were crinkled with slightly more tenderness than mockery.
"So what you're saying is, you guys would have ended up married to Hashirama."
"Aha!" Madara shot back, and finally climbed back to his feet; "but it wouldn't have been my fault."
--
-tobirama mildly fucks up the universe to get his little brothers back and madara is like, oh, HEY.-
Tobirama's guts were a block of ice.
Holding Kawarama was a man he'd seen around on the battlefield -- frequently relaying orders. High-ranking. Strong -- three tomoe. Mostly genjutsu.
At his back was Uchiha Madara.
Nobody but Hashirama had ever made him take a single step back.
"Madara," he said somehow. His lips were numb. He couldn't look away from Kawarama's dark panicked eyes, Kawarama's bared teeth and small, already-callused hands.
"Tobi-nii--"
"Don't move," he ordered. His voice felt blank, his head felt blank. The portal kept draining him drip by drip. "Don't move." He wasn't dead yet. They'd stopped their child-killing squads. Kawarama was too young to be killed now.
Madara's attention was a suffocating weight on his lungs, all sharp edges and deadly readiness.
"... Good," the man praised, like Tobirama was a disobedient dog who had finally performed as expected. He shifted his weight, started pulling Tobirama backwards by the hair -- about to drag him, to force him to stumble along outside of the seal. He must have known -- he must be able to tell how terrified Tobirama was for the boy in his clansman's grasp, he could tell how stiff, how petrified -- "You're coming with us, and then you're going to talk."
The grass on the other side of the portal was moving. It wouldn't be very long now. Tobirama dug his fingers into the earth, a laughably inefficient way to slow him down. "I'll let you kill me afterwards."
Madara paused, made a brief, baffled noise. Tobirama's back bumped against his knee.
"I'll let you kill me. I won't fight. Just don't -- don't stop me now."