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Entry tags:
Monthly word count - August
TOTAL: 4 768...
... damn, i knew i've been scatterbrained this month but DAMN. ok there were niblings and everything and also this fuckingheatwave that won't end, but *still.* i've been SO scattered, guys. uuuugh.
POSTED : nuthin!
IN PROGRESS
-cherry wine - MadaTobiIzu ABO (1 447 words)
-howling outside your door - bleach pack fuckening ABO (3 288 words)
-suburban ot4 (3 words. THREE WORDS. hbqlv qsgh)
it's all porn too. well, okay. :X maybe that's why it's so stalled. i need to add sociopolitical bullshit to my diet probably.
--
naruto
--
To the side, Izuna sneered. "Poor little Senju, hard to concentrate enough for your little jutsu like this, huh?"
"Shut up, Uchiha," Tobirama rasped venomously, and let go of the only hold he had on Madara to slap his hands together in a dragon seal.
Doing delicate medical jutsu while he was -- while Madara's face was wedged between his legs, ravenous and purringly pleased -- while Tobirama's cock hardened to full mast at the fingers digging into the muscle of his ass, leaving bruises, it was -- he could do it.
He'd trained so he could do it injured. This wasn't worse.
He fisted a chakra-lined hand in Madara's hair, willed the jutsu to work more than anything else, gritting his teeth as he directed it around the dangerous -- ah, fuck, fuck -- areas of his brain and why was Madara letting him do this, he should be trained so well and so deeply that by reflex--
Madara's mouth stilled, hot breath washing over drenched, fragile places.
--
bleach
--
He leaves his sword in the nest when he goes. Leaves his boots and the shreds of his clothes, ghosts out in nothing but his skin.
The other Zangetsu is still up there, a barely breathing statue that melds with the torn rocks and bushes at the ragged edges of his cloak and hair.
He doesn't smell like much of anything -- like Ichigo's hands and like steel and power, but nothing fleshy and present and immediate. Grimmjow stalks him from the shadows, creeping up on this wide-open back.
"Someone must keep watch," Black Zangetsu, older Zangetsu with the stranger's face says, quiet and slow and not even turning to face him in the dark.
Grimmjow pauses, two steps out of arm's reach.
"Nakeem and Whitey can swap in."
They're playing the same game down there, after all, except lazier, less committed. Grimmjow can tell a predator play-stalking from one stalking with intent. He used to do the same, didn't he, at the start, when his pack found him. Only knew how to make nice by not hunting them for real.
"... Hm."
"Not into it?"
"I have never wondered."
Grimmjow's thoughts are slow and warm, molasses-sweet with just a hint of playful claws, but it still gives him pause.
"... Ichigo's an alpha, but you're not?"
A quiet huff of breath in the dark; Zangetsu still faces mostly away, though now he's watching Grimmjow behind the corner of his shades. He's got a handsome, regal sort of face. Not bad. "I'm a sword."
"... Whitey's a sword." And he has fucked, at a minimum, Edrad and Yylfordt, and is somewhat flirting with Nakeem.
"He's not an alpha either. His body mimics Ichigo's, therefore it has alpha characteristics. But he doesn't have the scent, or the mindset."
Huh. Ichigo smelled so strong in his nose, he never noticed. "Ahh," Grimmjow says, amused. "His gender is sword."
"Basically."
"Heh." So he's just been hitting on Grimmjow's fraccion for the fun of it, then. Like a very sharp beta with no guarding drive. Heh, okay.
Zangetsu's back keeps being appealingly wide, and he keeps being all strange and mysterious and part of Ichigo somehow. Grimmjow wants to bat at him with his claws out until he lashes back and Grimmjow can finally figure him out. Grimmjow wants... "So I'm barking up the wrong tree then?"
The air is cool and soft against his sweaty skin. He is so bare, he doesn't think he has ever been this bare in his life, out in the open under the sky like this. In the desert he had his armor and his paws. Here, he has...
He has his hierro, he supposes. But it doesn't feel like it. He's been fucked so sensitive and tingly he might get cut by the edge of a blade of grass.
"Very well," Black Zangetsu says all at once.
... damn, i knew i've been scatterbrained this month but DAMN. ok there were niblings and everything and also this fuckingheatwave that won't end, but *still.* i've been SO scattered, guys. uuuugh.
POSTED : nuthin!
IN PROGRESS
-cherry wine - MadaTobiIzu ABO (1 447 words)
-howling outside your door - bleach pack fuckening ABO (3 288 words)
-suburban ot4 (3 words. THREE WORDS. hbqlv qsgh)
it's all porn too. well, okay. :X maybe that's why it's so stalled. i need to add sociopolitical bullshit to my diet probably.
--
naruto
--
To the side, Izuna sneered. "Poor little Senju, hard to concentrate enough for your little jutsu like this, huh?"
"Shut up, Uchiha," Tobirama rasped venomously, and let go of the only hold he had on Madara to slap his hands together in a dragon seal.
Doing delicate medical jutsu while he was -- while Madara's face was wedged between his legs, ravenous and purringly pleased -- while Tobirama's cock hardened to full mast at the fingers digging into the muscle of his ass, leaving bruises, it was -- he could do it.
He'd trained so he could do it injured. This wasn't worse.
He fisted a chakra-lined hand in Madara's hair, willed the jutsu to work more than anything else, gritting his teeth as he directed it around the dangerous -- ah, fuck, fuck -- areas of his brain and why was Madara letting him do this, he should be trained so well and so deeply that by reflex--
Madara's mouth stilled, hot breath washing over drenched, fragile places.
--
bleach
--
He leaves his sword in the nest when he goes. Leaves his boots and the shreds of his clothes, ghosts out in nothing but his skin.
The other Zangetsu is still up there, a barely breathing statue that melds with the torn rocks and bushes at the ragged edges of his cloak and hair.
He doesn't smell like much of anything -- like Ichigo's hands and like steel and power, but nothing fleshy and present and immediate. Grimmjow stalks him from the shadows, creeping up on this wide-open back.
"Someone must keep watch," Black Zangetsu, older Zangetsu with the stranger's face says, quiet and slow and not even turning to face him in the dark.
Grimmjow pauses, two steps out of arm's reach.
"Nakeem and Whitey can swap in."
They're playing the same game down there, after all, except lazier, less committed. Grimmjow can tell a predator play-stalking from one stalking with intent. He used to do the same, didn't he, at the start, when his pack found him. Only knew how to make nice by not hunting them for real.
"... Hm."
"Not into it?"
"I have never wondered."
Grimmjow's thoughts are slow and warm, molasses-sweet with just a hint of playful claws, but it still gives him pause.
"... Ichigo's an alpha, but you're not?"
A quiet huff of breath in the dark; Zangetsu still faces mostly away, though now he's watching Grimmjow behind the corner of his shades. He's got a handsome, regal sort of face. Not bad. "I'm a sword."
"... Whitey's a sword." And he has fucked, at a minimum, Edrad and Yylfordt, and is somewhat flirting with Nakeem.
"He's not an alpha either. His body mimics Ichigo's, therefore it has alpha characteristics. But he doesn't have the scent, or the mindset."
Huh. Ichigo smelled so strong in his nose, he never noticed. "Ahh," Grimmjow says, amused. "His gender is sword."
"Basically."
"Heh." So he's just been hitting on Grimmjow's fraccion for the fun of it, then. Like a very sharp beta with no guarding drive. Heh, okay.
Zangetsu's back keeps being appealingly wide, and he keeps being all strange and mysterious and part of Ichigo somehow. Grimmjow wants to bat at him with his claws out until he lashes back and Grimmjow can finally figure him out. Grimmjow wants... "So I'm barking up the wrong tree then?"
The air is cool and soft against his sweaty skin. He is so bare, he doesn't think he has ever been this bare in his life, out in the open under the sky like this. In the desert he had his armor and his paws. Here, he has...
He has his hierro, he supposes. But it doesn't feel like it. He's been fucked so sensitive and tingly he might get cut by the edge of a blade of grass.
"Very well," Black Zangetsu says all at once.