askerian: Serious Karkat in a red long-sleeved shirt (Default)
askerian ([personal profile] askerian) wrote2023-04-01 09:06 pm

Monthly word count - march

TOTAL: 4 512

... *whine*

can't-start-nothin-itis was REALLY bad this month. :(

POSTED : nothin!

IN PROGRESS (all bleach)
-suburban ot4 (695 words)
-daemon AU: the fullbringers arc (1 756 words)
-bloodsport (83 words) (but i plotted more!)
-pack fuckening epilogue (1 966 words) (maybe one fourth done. sob)
-superheroes AU (12 words) (=_=)

also posted: bleach - pack fuckening chapter 6. now to finish that friggin epilogue... hghghhh.


--
suburban ot4
--

"Okay, release paperwork to sign, blank reports, address book..."

Kurosaki is making his way down the stairs without looking, riffling through his satchel. 

"... Address is filled, permission slip for the Kyoto trip..."

"Daddy's going to work?"

"Mm yep," he hums back, still peering inside his bag as he wanders across the room. "Just for a little bit. Daddy's visiting a student and then coming back home." He drops a blind kiss on his son's skull, then another on his wife's--

Then pauses exactly two inches off Nelliel's hair, lips still pursed.

"... Um."

... Pffhahaha. 

The bright, hopeful grin Nelliel sends him makes him heave a sigh, ears turning red. Grimmjow starts smirking wider in anticipation of heckling him into committing to it... 

Then he just does it on his own.

The kiss he drops on her in turn lands on her fringe, at the top of her forehead -- more noisy and showy than real, but it still happens. She laughs, surprised, happy. Grimmjow laughs, more incredulous than anything. The princess presses a hand to her mouth to stifle giggles.

"Where's mine, assh... butt?"

Ichigo narrows his eyes meanly. Kazui calls out like a little town crier, in case the neighborhood's hard of hearing, "Assbutt!" and brandishes his drawing with both hands.

--
daemon AU
--

"... I suppose. But it's hard to find a way to talk to you without the... honor guard."

Wow, the doubtful little pause in the middle, the harmless smile afterwards. 

The slow glide, in and out, of the tigress' claw tips, half-hidden behind her curled tail.

"You could have come up while they were around," Rikuto says. 

"We really couldn't have," the tigress says, regretful.

They stare at each other. 

Ichigo throws his bag, then hops across the gap after it. "Oh, they're nice." He bats dust off his pants legs, casually. "Well, most of them. Probably. Okay, where's the door?"

The guy blinks, a little thrown. "You just got here and you already wanna leave? You don't have a problem with heights, I hope."

Her Ichigo pauses to scowl at the guy, who replies with a smarmy grin, full of teeth. Rikuto snorts. Guys with big cats are all assholes, it seems. 

"Just sit down if you're scared," the guy drawls, playful mockery in every syllable. "I'll even lend you my jacket so you don't dirty your pants."

"Dude," Ichigo deadpans back, "I already have a boyfriend." Then he rolls his eyes. 

So he misses the way the tigress' ears flick up; but Rikuto doesn't. 

"So who the hell are you and what were you stalking us for," she says, cutting through the oncoming bullshit and seven centuries of coy not-getting-to-the-point.

It's a little satisfying to see the smarm slide off the guy's face to be replaced by seriousness.

"Right. I'm Ginjō Kūgo. This is Yozora. We arrived in town last week, and... Ah, there's no good way of saying this." His brow knits into concern, worry. "How come you're surrounded by Fullbringers and not a one of them taught you how to do it?"

--
pack fuckening epilogue
--

He hopped over a tree trunk, and promptly caught his toe on it and tripped when his sleeve started ringing out of nowhere. His foot landed with a wet squelch in something unidentifiable; he plunged his hand down his sleeve to grab the spirit flip phone Urahara had inflicted on him somehow.

"Yeah? -- oh, gross."

"Who are you calling gross, little boy?"

-- Oh. He stopped walking, phone pressed to his ear and one foot still up, trying to flick the weird mush out from between his toes. "Rukia? They called you in?"

Just hearing her voice made his shoulders relax, his back straighten. He'd been feeling so -- 

"I came with the Captain-Commander." Her voice was all no-nonsense, extra-professional; Kyoraku was probably in the room with her. Ichigo tried not to feel too disappointed. He'd hoped... "Now Urahara-san tells us a garganta just opened and closed, can you confirm?"

"Yeah, they just left. Peacefully and with half of my house's entire stock of pillows."

He was rewarded with a little 'heh.' "And your estimated time of arrival at the shop?"

"Oh, uh." Ugh. Five minutes if he flew, but he didn't want to fly. "Fifte... thirty minutes. I gotta... stuff."

"Very well." She turned away from the phone, voice gone muffled as she relayed his words. Sigh.

"Alright," she said all at once, in such a different tone he almost startled. "I'm in the ladies' room. Tell me why you're coming back on foot. Are you brooding?"

Ichigo spluttered, and shoved a branch out of his face with a little more -- enthusiasm. (Relief.) "What the hell makes you think that?!"

"If you were injured you'd say so. You wouldn't make poor Inoue cry thinking of you limping back through rough terrain on your lonesome."

"...Mngh."  

"Also... Ichigo, I'm an alpha too. Do you think I don't understand how it might feel to devote a couple nights slaking a lover's lust and shielding their most intimate vulnerabilities only for them to disappear in the morning?"

He swallowed. Cleared his throat. "... I keep forgetting you're an alpha."

"Bullshit you do, you're just a deviant."

"Ugh, shut up. Nobody still goes by Sengoku era rules for friend groups."

Fewer and fewer people even still held onto it for actual packs in the Living World, but Soul Society, he knew, held firmly to that rule at least. A household might have several omegas, and definitely several betas, but more than one, unrelated alpha? Too shocking. Kind of... gay. 

Rukia's voice went teasingly cloying. "There, there, it's okay if you consider me a senior alpha, a patriarch of sorts, a mentor in the ways of--"

"I really, really don't."

"Hmph. Upstart."

"You really missed an occasion to call me a whippersnapper there."