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Entry tags:
Monthly word count - march
TOTAL: 3 025
sigh. yeah, unsurprised.
POSTED:
i DID post something!!!!!
-naruto: mada/tobi/izu ABO cherry wine: days on a wire chapter 9 (2 380 words)
IN PROGRESS:
-bleach: bloodsport chapter idk (448 words)
-bleach arranged marriage AU that is based on one of my ofics and stalled HARD. :/// (197 words)
... i stg i can NOT write if i'm not writing for someone. otherwise it just stays in my head until i forget.
--
bloodsport
--
"Ah! It's señorito Antenor!"
"Hi sir!" "Hi little boss!" "Hi--"
Luppi came to a dead stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Charlotte guffawed. In between two layers of fence, a pack of teenagers hollered their greetings. Behind them was an empty lot -- basketball court? Tennis? -- on which some more teenagers galloped with enough aggressive vigor to make Ichigo feel decrepit.
Half of them had their horns out.
Askin smiled, eyes crinkling. "Little boss?"
"Shut up. Who called me señorito, ah? Who had the balls to do that?"
The kids jeered, though with the air of people who wouldn't have if there hadn't been a fence.
How odd. It didn't look like the kind of area Luppi and his porcelain doll looks could be from.
The streets had none of the wavy hallmarks of the hotel's architecture. Minimalist straight lines dominated, but the inhabitants seemed to have gone full vendetta with the paint instead, layers of garish red straight over peeling layers of teal, bold but sloppy designs, straight out graffiti...
It wasn't a slum. Probably they were still too close to the rich areas. But it was run-down, messy.
--
arranged marriage AU
--
Grimmjow didn't know why he was still alive.
Pantera was gone from his side; taken away or outright put down he didn't know. Even in the next room over he could have felt her presence; but there was nothing but the white ceilings and the emptiness of the room echoing his pained breath back to him.
The bed would have been comfortable, if he wasn't shackled to it. Wrists, ankles, neck--
The bigger issue was that he couldn't move his legs.
No. No. he could feel the sheets against his toes; he could feel the padded metal chaining in down. (Somewhat. Distantly.) All at once, he strained -- abdominals screaming through clouds of painkillers, a muscle tear -- and his leg shifted an inch, from the hip, nothing lower responding. No, fuck, no--
"You're much too injured to be this wriggly," a woman's unimpressed voice told him, even before the door was all the way open.
Her familiar only made itself known when it ghosted up onto the end of the bed, entirely silent on oversized paws, tufted ears trained on him and head hunting-low.
Grimmjow sneered, teeth bared, more at the girl than at the cat.
sigh. yeah, unsurprised.
POSTED:
i DID post something!!!!!
-naruto: mada/tobi/izu ABO cherry wine: days on a wire chapter 9 (2 380 words)
IN PROGRESS:
-bleach: bloodsport chapter idk (448 words)
-bleach arranged marriage AU that is based on one of my ofics and stalled HARD. :/// (197 words)
... i stg i can NOT write if i'm not writing for someone. otherwise it just stays in my head until i forget.
--
bloodsport
--
"Ah! It's señorito Antenor!"
"Hi sir!" "Hi little boss!" "Hi--"
Luppi came to a dead stop in the middle of the sidewalk. Charlotte guffawed. In between two layers of fence, a pack of teenagers hollered their greetings. Behind them was an empty lot -- basketball court? Tennis? -- on which some more teenagers galloped with enough aggressive vigor to make Ichigo feel decrepit.
Half of them had their horns out.
Askin smiled, eyes crinkling. "Little boss?"
"Shut up. Who called me señorito, ah? Who had the balls to do that?"
The kids jeered, though with the air of people who wouldn't have if there hadn't been a fence.
How odd. It didn't look like the kind of area Luppi and his porcelain doll looks could be from.
The streets had none of the wavy hallmarks of the hotel's architecture. Minimalist straight lines dominated, but the inhabitants seemed to have gone full vendetta with the paint instead, layers of garish red straight over peeling layers of teal, bold but sloppy designs, straight out graffiti...
It wasn't a slum. Probably they were still too close to the rich areas. But it was run-down, messy.
--
arranged marriage AU
--
Grimmjow didn't know why he was still alive.
Pantera was gone from his side; taken away or outright put down he didn't know. Even in the next room over he could have felt her presence; but there was nothing but the white ceilings and the emptiness of the room echoing his pained breath back to him.
The bed would have been comfortable, if he wasn't shackled to it. Wrists, ankles, neck--
The bigger issue was that he couldn't move his legs.
No. No. he could feel the sheets against his toes; he could feel the padded metal chaining in down. (Somewhat. Distantly.) All at once, he strained -- abdominals screaming through clouds of painkillers, a muscle tear -- and his leg shifted an inch, from the hip, nothing lower responding. No, fuck, no--
"You're much too injured to be this wriggly," a woman's unimpressed voice told him, even before the door was all the way open.
Her familiar only made itself known when it ghosted up onto the end of the bed, entirely silent on oversized paws, tufted ears trained on him and head hunting-low.
Grimmjow sneered, teeth bared, more at the girl than at the cat.