he’s performing a gay ass magic act
✧ reblogs are appreciated ✧ | ♡ buy me a kofi ♡ | ☾ commission info ☽
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one of the perspective practices or whatever
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like it’s VERY very important to not text and drive. and i understand how dangerous it is to do that and to be distracted at all in any way for any amount of time on the road. i know it’s important to learn about these stories and bear witness to them. but i just think. like idk. watching multiple of them every day for 10 days (with a two day break halfway through for the weekend) is realy… like idk. i think after seeing a couple you can get the point. i don’t want to sound dismissive or lackadaisacal and im scared im sounding like that but i just am so freaked out by all of this and witb every new horror they’re showing us it’s scaring me worse.
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guys i think im gonna read through my fic one more time and then just upload the chapter as soon as my account is functioning. its like 6,500 words and idk if thats long but im never gonna upload it if i dont upload it fast
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Which of Kenny's three voice actors do you personally think sounds most like 'him'? I like the bit of roughness in Eric Judge's voice but I think my favourite might be Eric Stough's interpretation
Ooh, that's a good question. Had to go give his lines a good listen.
Well I think I agree and I also like Eric Stough's voice on him and I feel like it's the most like "him", assuming you meant Mike Judge... because if not I'm missing something hahah.
Either way, his line at the end of the movie (done by Judge) is very cute, but I do like Stough's voice on him especially in the later stuff, like Kenny's internal line "I don't have a machine to play Fallen Order on". Eric Stough's got a bit more of a like... smooth, relaxed vibe I think.
I do like Matt's too (maybe a given since...who else would do it since he does the muffled lines lmao), like one of my fav lines is "dude, fuck this let's bail", but you can easily hear Kyle and Butters in some places.
It's hard to describe voices. I suppose I do like a more mellow, "mature" voice for Kenny. That's like my headcanon-y idea of it, even more so for my grown up hcs.
Like no matter how you may see Kyle, you know his voice would (does?) get more shrill in moments, like if really ranting or something, but I don't imagine Kenny's would. Instead maybe gets lower if he's that serious or pissed. But don't give too much weight to that because I generally imagine Kenny's voice to be jovial and light, but not quite in the same range as Kyle's. So yeah, love the vibe and smoother tone of Eric Stough's lines. I think that's more "him". ;v;
ALSO... if maybe you want a more really specific line that’s the most “him” to me, also big fan of the “what the fuck” of Mysterion falling out of character hahaha. And that “not the socks” one.
Lmao thanks for letting me ramble about this, even if I'm kinda biased and of course I like all of Kenny's voiced lines. There's not a lot of variation to really analyze obviously, but I hope it's still interesting. I really love talking about it even if it's stuff I said before.
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you are doing some cocomelon shit to me
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i was tagged by @nuclearstorms @morvaris and @arklay to do this quiz for some of my ocs, thank you so much everyone!! i’m giving all of you a kiss
not sure who did this already so feel free to ignore it! i’m tagging: @cultistbase @ianeiras @aelyosos @montliyets @faarkas @reaperkiller @keevan @swordcoasts @steelport @camelliagwerm @avallachs @jacobseed @denerims @shadowglens and whoever else wants to do this!
WHAT GOD ARE YOU?
– VESPER MOXLEY: Mirror God
You are a reflected God, trapped by a curse. Changing form as interesting things pass your little window into the world. You emulate the beautiful faces you see as they get made up and powdered before airing on television. You emulate the quaint little farms that run on commercials for cranberries. You copy these bits and pieces of media, these TV people, these ideals, into an identity. You know you are something quite different.. but do not remember what you were or what you liked before becoming a reflection. You know one day you will leave this mirror and you will not look the way you wish to, it scares you. Why does it scare you?
(+ i took it twice for vesper because i was so hmmmm about the result and now the two combined are making me sob)
Void Ghost
You have not yet been born into belief. Why don’t you believe in yourself? It's very critical to existing at this stage. You're floating around, for now, looking for your place in the new and rapidly changing world of humans.
– FENIX HAYES: God of the Unused Fireplace
You are a very powerful fire demon (you think so anyway). Since this house was built in 2008 with an electric heater, the occupants have never called upon you. You wonder what you would do if they lit you up (burn the place down probably). You want to roar ferociously and combust into a fire the size of the sun! For now, you lay in the hearth invisibly next to unlightable decorative candles and wait.
– DANIEL MOXLEY: Gust God
You were born free! As free as the grass grows! You could go in so many directions right now you might pull yourself apart trying. There are kites to fly and wheat to whip through and birds to knock around and- Oh no, you’ve tornadoed an old woman’s garage sale sign away. Go pick that up!
– VIOLANTE WAESPHINE: Void Ghost
You have not yet been born into belief. Why don’t you believe in yourself? It's very critical to existing at this stage. You're floating around, for now, looking for your place in the new and rapidly changing world of humans.
– ZEFYR: Force of Flood
It’s torture. You feel every blade of grass, every kitchen tile, every little set of running feet as you consume the land. You don’t mean to! You’re so angry! Why do they treat you this way!? You were an ocean spirit once, calmly sending waves and rains inland. The people were happy, you were pristine. Now every summer they have only built more, dumped more, stole more from you, WHY COULDN'T THEY BE HAPPY WITH THE RAINS AND GRASSES? "I WILL WASH AWAY YOUR ROADS! I WILL SOONER WIPE YOU FROM THE EARTH THAN SUCCUMB TO YOUR SLOW POISONING!", you bellow from roiling brown flood plains.
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I can draw literally whatever I put my mind to actually
putting it under the cut cause lee’s getting the Onceler Treatment here (shipping). two of them,,
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oooh 1 and 11 for the horror fic with Lup and Taako ! :3
Ooh!! I never get to talk about this one :3 I worked really hard on it too, and not a lot of people saw it so I'm just gonna sliiiiide a link right here <3
Also, anyone can send in a question about a fic from these questions here or just other questions in general! I like talking about my fics and never know how to shut up lol
What inspired you to write the fic this way?
So this was back when I first started getting back into writing and had virtually no following of anyone who consistently read my stuff or sent me prompts. Actually, I think at the time of writing it, I may have not even reblogged a prompt list yet. It's hard to say because this was obviously before I got an ao3 account, and when I tried to upload all of the fics I had written by the time I did get an account, somehow the publish date on some of them got mixed up and was set for the day after I actually published them?? And I didn't know how to fix it, so I no longer know the order in which I wrote everything. That's neither here nor there though. Point is, I used a prompt from a pdf of a prompt book I got in an online writing bundle called Roll-A-Prompt Writing Journal Box Set, box set meaning that it had prompts for horror, sci-fi, and fantasy. I used that book a lot in the beginning because it's a really fun book to use the few times I used it. Basically you pick a set of prompts from any of the three genres, and the prompts are ordered in three different aspects of the prompt (in this case, it was character, mood, and word, but there are other options depending on the prompt set you choose), and each aspect has a list of six options. Then you roll a d6 for each aspect, and you generate a prompt by combining the three different options you rolled. Like the monster factory from Wonderland! lol Only, I took it up a level and rolled a d4 to determine what genre I was going to do (usually I use it as a d2 to pick between sci-fi and fantasy), and then I roll a d100 to pick what prompt set I use because there's thirty prompt sets in each genre. I just used this roll as leaving it as is if it landed on 1-30, then if it was 31-60, I would just subtract 30, and if it was 61-90, I would subtract 60, and if it was 91-100, I would just reroll. Then I count that many numbers down starting from the top of the chapter until I got to the right prompt set.
If anyone is interested, I could share it! It is a pdf though, so I think I'd have to send it through email because I don't think that's something I can just share elsewhere.
Anyway, I felt like throwing in a little extra, why not? that day when I decided to roll up another prompt and added horror as an option to my d4 roll, and I ended up getting that, so that's what I went with lol I am definitely not a horror person though and know very little about the genre, and I'm unwilling to do anything too gory or gross. The most I can handle with horror is creepy and abstract concepts of other horrific events, and the top thing that came to mind that day that I thought I could pull off was someone torturing students to bring back an old dead god. So I looked up wheel torture methods because I couldn't remember exactly what the torture device I had in mind was called or did, it was the wheel thing that like, you get tied to on the side and it's supposed to stretch your body apart? Idk, it's the torture method that always stuck out most to me besides quartering, and there was no way in hell I was writing that. I get uncomfortable even rolling that idea in my head and have to try really hard to not picture it every time I remember it exists. Anyway, so I looked up wheel torture methods, and the only thing I could find was the wheel that is called a female name that starts with a c then wheel? Cathie's wheel? Cassandra's wheel? idk I don't want to look it up. Last time I looked it up (to write this fic), I literally gave myself nightmares, and I already watched a fucked up movie today. It's past 11pm and I have to be somewhere at 1pm tomorrow, so I have to go to bed soon, but the grossest part of the movie I watched is still playing in my head and aaaahhhhh
So yeah, that's why I went with a hopefully more creepy vibe for most of it (also to build up tension), and I used physical descriptors of the dead bodies in the wheels very sparingly. Probably not the most immersive experience, but hey, I'm not a horror writer usually lol
Anyway, so I needed characters to be in this scenario, and I thought doing a sibling bonding moment would be cool, and it definitely seemed like the kind of weird shit that would happen in Taako and Lup's lives pre-stolen century. Also, it gave me an excuse to end the story with Taako saying he'd always find Lup >:3
I was really proud of how it turned out when I wrote it, and I suppose I'm still proud of it because it's something I wouldn't normally do, and I do feel like it's okay. But I can definitely tell I grew in my writing capabilities since then, and honestly, the twin interactions after Lup gets kidnapped is so cringey lol 🤦🏽♂️ I was so worried about trying to make sure that I didn't portray either of them as weak or like a damsel in distress, especially Lup, that I didn't just let her need to be saved. I wanted to show that I still think of her as a badass who can take care of herself, especially because I was really worried about the weak woman trope or whatever, that I didn't let her just need help. I honestly thought about switching the roles, but Lup just seemed like the one to pick up on something being wrong first while Taako got distracted by how hot the professor was than it being the other way around, and of course the person who picks up on it first has to get kidnapped lol
Anyway, I've rambled on about that long enough sldgkhsldaghd
11. What do you like best about this fic?
Honestly, the part where Taako gets hit with Phantasmal Killer. It was interesting figuring out what exactly would be his number one nightmare that Keth could conjure up, and between having an inconsistent childhood where either the twins left places for their own safety or people left them and them only having each other, having Lup being the one to yell at him, blame him for fucking up a great opportunity, and then leaving him would probably be something major psychic damage worthy lol I also really like how I wrote that confrontation in his mind in general, though I feel like I could do it way better now
It's just a perfect way to spin the situation on its head you see, and fuck the both of them up just a little bit <3
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Started my 2nd playthrough of Horizon Forbidden West. I love the game but the writing, the story...it's all so painfully obvious.
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Overture
"A plucked note, a half familiar tune, it's okay if you don't remember the words- you will soon."
(Or in which Ichigo has a bad day, meets a guy with personal space issues and who looks way too much like his zanpakuto to be comfortable, and finds out reincarnation is also apparently a thing?)
Words: 10572
Rated: Fiction T
A/N: This is actually very old wip that I found in one of my old
journals and simply decided one day to finish on a whim. I've
always been rather fond of reincarnation stories and figured it
would work out rather well here. Also honestly I just wanted to
have an excuse for Ichigo being a salty little shit to someone.
Anyway, I do not hold the rights for either DGM or Bleach
because -let's be honest here- would I really be writing
fanfiction if I did?
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Overture"-noun: an orchestral piece that serves as the precursor to
a larger musical composition; the start of something much bigger.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Sixteen…"
With a flash of steel viscera flew away, shattering into nothingness
before it even had a chance to hit the ground.
"Seventeen…"
The thick blade of the khyber knife slid through flesh and bone with
little effort, carving a path of destruction in its wake.
"Eighteen!"
The teen hefted the massive blade onto his shoulder and cast a
glance back at one of the (un)fortunate few hollows that had
managed to escape from the carnage. ' Though not for long… ' "Oi
Ishida!" He called out suddenly, "That's eighteen now, how many
have you managed so far?"
A bolt of blue soared past him, just narrowly missing by a small
margin as it went on to pierce the mask of one of the more
opportunistic hollows who thought they might be able to get a cheap
shot or two in while he was distracted. "Perhaps you should focus on
the task at hand instead of asking inane questions like who can kill
the most hollows in one go Kurosaki." The bespectacled Quincy
replied in a droll tone as he leapt back, ducking quickly in an effort to
avoid the clawed swipe a low-level adjuchas before launching off a
volley of arrows in retaliation. "And it's twenty-three if you must know."
"Damn." Ichigo turned away with a grumble but still felt the need to
retort,"Yeah, well, you know we wouldn't even be out here in the first
place with if a certain somebody hadn't shoved me back into that
crate of hollow bait!"
"I already told you that was an accident! My arms were so full of stuff
that I couldn't even see over them! How on earth was I supposed to
know you were right behind the door? I may have talents that span
across many fields, but you will be hard pressed to find being psychic among them."
"Uh-huh, yeah, sure." Ichigo nodded entirely unconvinced, "Tell that
to the hand you messed up!" He flicked said appendage toward the
other teen. An action of which merely caused the other to roll his eyes.
"It was just a small cut Kurosaki, stop being so melodramatic."
"Melodramatic?!" The teen cried, "You're not the one who ended up
taking an entire shelf down with him! I got dirt and god-knows-what
in this damn thing. Do you know how much bacteria is in that shit?
I'm lucky if it doesn't get infected!" A shout quickly cut both of them
off and not a moment later it was followed with a large hollow being
sent sailing past the taller teen. He blinked and turned to the source.
"Hey how you holding up Chad?
"Fine." Yasutora Sado -or as he was known to his friends- Chad
replied. "I managed to get thirty so far." His armored fist crashed
through the skull of a still-twitching creature. "Though I think that was the last one."
The deafening sound of a garganta tearing through the night sky
drew their attention upwards. Twin sets of bleached bone hands
accompanied by the massive visages of their owners peered out of
the void-like spacial tear. They stared up at the newly-arrived gillians
for a second before Chad spoke up once more. "I might've been wrong." Uryu pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.
"You know…" Ichigo eyed the gillians with a discerning look, "This
feels suspiciously familiar for some reason." He turned to face his
Quincy companion speculatively, "Didn't we have to do something
similar to this the last time you decided to be an idiot?"
"Ugh, don't remind me." He grumbled, shooting the teen a gimlet
stare. "Don't tell me you're thinking of rushing up and trying to knock
them down from the bottom-up again are you?"
'Er well maybe not from the bottom-up anyway.' The substitute
shinigami thought with a flush. "That was one time! And from what I
remember, its not like your plan was any better!"
"Excuse me?" Came the indignant response.
Ichigo's look was as dry as his words, "It involved tying my sword to
your head and trying to shoot the damn thing down Ishida. I think
that counts."
"Ichigo."
"What?" The teen turned to his tall friend who in turn made a silent
gesture towards the general vicinity of the massive hollows, the
other's gaze locked on something in the distance. Curious, he traced
the path only to spot the telltale glow of a cero beginning to form on
the leftmost gillian's lips. "Oh…shit." With that he moved.
Shifting into a shunpo, he flickered up and over to meet the threat.
Zangetsu out and at the ready, he sent forth a nameless arc of
energy directly into the large beast's face. The light of the cero
dissipated as the gillian was knocked back from the sheer force of
the attack. Incensed, the being let out an ear-drum shattering screech.
However, not giving it a chance to recover, Ichigo launched himself
forward and swung. A fearsome cry ripped loose as the blade
cleaved though the hollow's mask and eventually the being itself. "That's nineteen." He slid back, allowing the dissipating reishi of the
newly purified beast to filter around him as he made to survey his
newest target. "Now let's see if we can make it twenty."
A faint shimmering glow began to encapsulate the zanpakuto as
wisps of power rose up to meet their king's demand. Slipping one
foot back, he settled into a firm stance, braced the charged blade
with a strong grip, and then uttered the two damning words,
"Getsuga Tensh-?!"
It was then, at that very moment, he felt his power surge. Taken off
guard by the unexpected ferocity he jerked and involuntarily released
the charged attack. However he only had a split second to process
this before it all went to hell. It was… odd, he thought with a
detached air. There was the vague sense of his half-called attack
coming forth to strike the unfortunate hollow with enough force that if the blast itself hadn't destroyed it then the resounding shockwave
would have managed that thrice over. A searing throb pulsed
through his arm as ringing echoed with an omnipresent chime in his
ears. He thought if he strained hard enough that he could maybe
make out the disant voices of his friends and the rush of wind flowing
past him as he flew. And then suddenly the world shifted and he was
falling and everything was beginning to lose focus and then-
Darkness.
-------------------------------[ - XIV - ]------------------------------------
…
…
…?
**…?
It.. me, ****.
Ca. ..u …r m. ..t?
***** y.u …d .. get up!
***..?!
"Damn it Ichigo wake up!"
-------------------------------[ - XV - ]----------------------------------
Warm brown eyes flickered a bit as the lids hiding them cracked
open- only to clamp shut seconds later with a pained hiss. He opted
to remain like that as he took stock of his situation. He was obviously
still alive if the general ache that seemed to run through every part of
his body were any indication (and shit if it didn't hurt) and from what
he could tell, he was sprawled out on on something hard and cold -
the ground- presumably. His hand twitched and brushed up against
something at his side. Curiosity taking precedence for the moment,
he hazarded a glance around until his slit-eyed gaze happened upon
the thing. It was his sword, somehow he had managed to keep his
grip on the blade despite being tossed about like a ragdoll. Good to
know.
"Ichigo!"
His head tilted towards the shout and the tension bled from his frame
when he caught sight of who it was. "Hey…you okay?" The teen managed to grit out. 'Because I sure as hell am not.'
"Kurosaki." There was a flicker of relief behind metal-rimmed frames
that was quickly asked by annoyance. "I think that question would
better be directed at yourself." Reaffixing the sliding pair of lenses
he continued on, "Seeing as I'm not the one in the crater right now."
"Ishida!" It was at that moment that Chad had finally managed to
make it to the scene. As his attention flickered from the Quincy to a
vaguely irritated-looking Ichigo then to the surrounding destruction
he came to a conclusion of some sort and finally let his gaze come to
rest on the fallen substitute shinigami. He took a step forward and
asked, "What happened?"
With some difficulty Ichigo managed to push himself into a semiseated position. He looked up at the two perched upon the lip of the impact site with a pensive scowl. "I'm… not entirely sure." He
admitted honestly, a hand raked through disheveled locks as he
thought.
"It looked like you exploded."
"Yeah? That's a bit what it felt like too." The whole peculiarity pf the
incident had left him with a bitter taste in his mouth (although that
might've just been blood.) "It was weird. I was just doing as I
normally do when out of nowhere my power just sort of… skyrocketed. Next thing I know that hollow is on death's door and
my ass is being sent flying halfway across the city."
They were all silent for a pause, each lost to their own thoughts until
Ishida decided to break it. "We should head on back, perhaps that
shopkeeper can shed some light on things."
The black-clad teen snorted, "If you somehow think you can get him
to drop that cryptic bullshit for two seconds then by all means go for
it." He slowly began to pull himself up, grunting quietly from the effort.
"Do you need some help?" Chad -ever the reliable friend- offered.
"No, no. I got it." He waved him off and slowly managed to heave
himself upright with Zangetsu acting as a sort of makeshift crutch.
He successfully made it a step-and-a-half forward before his legs
decided to give out on him and he crumpled. "Um maybe I don't
have it…"
Ishida's brow hiked up slightly, "Oh really? I honestly couldn't tell."
He drawled, earning a glower from the other teen. The bespectacled
youth chuckled slightly as he bent down and carefully perched
himself on the rim of the crater, his hand extended out towards his
sometime friend/rival. Grumbling under his breath, the boy clasped
onto the proffered limb with a firm embrace. And then it happened…
One moment everything was fine and the next second, right as
Ichigo's made contact, the other's sleeve seemed to just disintegrate. A startled yelp escaped the Quincy as he jerked the limb from the
other's grasp, the sudden loss of support sending the teen back down flat on his ass. He stared in a sort of horrified bewilderment as
the other clutched at the pained limb and from where he was sitting
Ichigo thought he could spot a welt of red stand stark out against
pale skin. Appearing almost as if it had been seared there. His gaze
flickered down to his bandaged hand, watching as the appendage
trembled slightly when he made a fist.
What in the actual fuck?
Pain momentarily shunted to the back of his mind, he scrambled up
the pile of rubble, taking care to maneuver around the duo as he hefted himself up and over the ledge. Wordlessly he met their troubled flickers with an uneasy gleam of his own. The same unspoken question passed between them: just what the hell was going on?
Thankfully they were spared the issue of dwelling on it for too long
when a distinctly familiar presence decided to make itself known.
"Oh my, you boys sure know how to make a mess." The clack-clack
of wooden sandals slapping against concrete came to as stop as
their owner cast an impassive eye at the trio, namely a certain
swordsman. "Well I suppose it's a good thing that my ability to
conveniently appear at just the right moment is as impeccable as
always. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Urahara-san, as much as we would love to stand around and
discuss your frankly stalker-like tendencies don't you think there are
slightly more pressing matters to attend to?"
The man's attention flickered briefly to the injured Quincy before
shifting back to Ichigo. "Yes, I suppose so. Exposition time it is then."
He affected an almost put upon sigh before sobering so fast it
could've given a person whiplash. Leaning forward with his cane as
a support he began, "I'm certain you can recall the actions of young
Kurosaki-san of a few months prior. How in a desperate last ditch
effort he employed the use of his final single most powerful
technique in order to stop Aizen and ultimately save out collective
asses, in spite of the supposed cost brought about by doing such a
thing."
"Except that didn't happen." Ichigo said slowly, "The cost that is."
"Precisely. Which is in where lies the problem." The man's steel eyes
glinted slightly, "With the use of that technique you should have
immediately undergone the process of losing your spiritual pressure
-and with it your powers- the moment you released the attack. But
you didn't. Somehow the process was… circumvented -for lack of a
better term- allowing for you to pursuit a third option and keep both
your abilities and your spiritual energies, albeit in a slightly
diminished state. Naturally, phenomena such as this bore further
examination and I have to say," He pushed his hat back allowing for
a better view, "The results were rather interesting and, sadly to say,
inconclusive."
"These results wouldn't happen to involve things like, say, random
power spikes and straight up disintegrating shit would they?" The
brown-eyed teen asked lowly.
The blond nodded, "From what I have been able to gather I'd say its
a bit something like this: imagine if you will, a system of pipes and
valves. Normally you'd twist on the tap and water would flow through
them with no trouble right? Now picture that those valves, for
whatever reason, up and decided that they simply don't want to work
properly anymore. What happens when suddenly there's all this
extra water and nowhere for it to go? It begins to back up and flood
the system, naturally."
He almost didn't want to ask but he needed to know, "And… what
happens when the system is completely flooded?"
"Over time the pressure produced would escalate to a level far
beyond that which is in any way safe and eventually the backlash
would destroy the system entirely-" The blond's gaze traveled
significantly to Ishida who continued to clutch at his wounded arm, "-
along with everything else within a fourteen kilometer radius."
The teen felt his blood become ice. "Oh." A bead of sweat dripped
from his brow, "That's…not good." Was all that he managed to get
out.
It was a bit before anyone could figure out just how exactly they were
supposed to respond to that little proclamation when Ishida -ever the
pragmatist- asked, "Is there any way to fix it and make it so that
doesn't happen?"
For a brief second he dared hope but when the man simply shook
his head his heart sunk, "While I do have some theories that could
potentially bear merit, I'm rather reluctant to implement them, at least not until I can manage to extrapolate the underlying cause of all
this."
As the incredulous disbelief, which had been progressively mounting
throughout the duration of the the conversation, finally deigned itself
to drag the teen into its murky depths a thought occurred to him and
much like a lifeline he clutched onto it. "What about my body?" Could
he even return to it in this state?
The man hummed thoughtfully, "You probably could try to go back to
it, but unless you want first-hand knowledge on what its like to
inhabit a body that's in the process of slowly being torn apart from
the inside by its own spiritual pressure, then I'd advise against it."
'Well that answers that.' The teen grimaced, it was not a pretty
picture and in all honesty he kind of felt like he was going to be sick.
Having your own abilities suddenly decide you would look better
slammed into the concrete and then being told that you were
essentially a ticking time bomb that could potentially level half the
damn city simply by existing would do that to a person he supposed.
"Ichigo." He twitched. Raising up to meet the gentle giant's silent
concern, they locked eyes for a moment before he looked away,
unable to answer the question held within. Was he okay? Good
question.
"I-" He swallowed thickly, noticing how his hands tightened around
Zangetsu's grip. Only then he realized he had neglected to sheath
the blade and immediately set about rectifying this. He hoped the
others were unable to see the way his hands shook as he did.
(They probably could.)
He… He needed some space. To be alone so he could just think and
attempt to process whatever the fuck was happening right now with
his body, with him. And this is pretty much what he told the others.
(And if he was alone then at least he wouldn't take anyone with him.)
Urahara met this with a nod of understanding, hands drifting to his
pockets. "I have something for you," He dug through them, pulling
out a stick of gum and a rubber duck to which he quickly dismissed
and tossed away. "It's only a prototype at the moment-" An
innocuous looking green stone of indeterminate construction (it
almost seemed to contain an unearthly glow) quickly joined the pile,
"-but-" followed by a traffic cone and a stop sign (How did that even
fit…?), "-if it works…" then a ball of multicoloured rubber bands and
a roll of bandages (which were spared a moment's glance then
lobbed over to a thankful Chad), "-it should be able to open up a
portal to Hueco Mundo for you to go through," And, finally, out
slipped the palm-sized device. "You know, if you, well…"
He trailed off, finger hovering above the sole button on the device for
a second before he pressed down. "The portal will only be able to
stay open for about a minute on this end but that should be long
enough for you to make it through if you hurry."
Ichigo nodded and shifted so now that his friends were the ones in
sight instead. He opened his mouth to say something but got cut off
before the words had ever reached his tongue. "Go." The tallest of
the trio said, "We'll take care of things here." He made certain that
they could see the thanks in his eyes before he turned away. Taking
a fortifying breath the substitute shinigami stared straight ahead. Only a minute huh? He could handle that.
"Ah well I suppose I should be getting back to the shop. Come along
now Sado-kun, Ishida-san."
A beat, then two, and then suddenly he was standing before the
static-filled void between worlds.
"Urahara-san aren't you forgetting something?"
He took a step.
"Huh? Oh right! Wouldn't want to litter would we? Now let's see,
there's this and oh wow! Forgot I had that and… huh? Could've
sworn there were two…"
The last vestiges of conversation drifted from awareness with a
crack as the mouth of the portal came down behind him and he let
out the breath he hadn't known he had been holding. Mechanically,
he started forward, legs automatically propelling him towards that
land of eternal night. Maybe on the way there he could think of some
way that he might just be able to pull his sorry ass out of the
proverbial fire this time, and maybe, just maybe there would be no
one around to hear his frustrated scream.
------------------------------------[ - XIV - ]--------------------------------
The rhythmic patter of footfalls and unsteady breaths trailed along as
he ran. The solitary sounds in stark juxtaposition with the oppressive
nothingness was what had finally allowed for the shock to break and
everything else settle in. How long had it been now? It was as if he
had been on a treadmill, running endlessly yet never getting
anywhere. But surely that couldn't be so, he must've made some
progress right?
… Right?
He wondered if they managed to make it back to the shop yet. (He
tried not to remember deep red in the shape of a hand -his hand- to
not picture white-and-silver-and-blue wracked in pain -that he had
caused- or recall warm brown, kind yet tinted with a solemn silence and it was his own fault goddamn it-) He hoped they had. In his
distraction the walkway he stood upon began to slip back into the
ether and caused the teen to pitch forward a bit until he managed to
right himself and continue on. It was just a bit before thoughts once
more began to drift.
His family…
A niggling feeling of guilt wormed its way up his chest and settled
heavily in his throat. He had promised to watch his sisters since their
father was out of town for the weekend but now how was he
supposed to do that if he couldn't even get near them (or anyone
else for that matter?) What if they weren't able to fix things and he'd
never be able to see any of them again? Something cold slithered
down and joined its fellow in the depths of his heart. He wondered if
anyone had went ahead and even bothered to tell them anything. 'Oh god they haven't had they?'
(With a dawning horror he imagined the two girls waiting for him to
come home as they always did only to come to learn that their older
brother just simply wouldn't be coming back this time and probably
never would again. Yuzu would be devastated which would set Karin
off because nobody gets away with upsetting her twin like that and
then she would try to hunt him down so she could kick his ass and
he'd completely deserve it too because what kind of brother does
that to his sisters? But it'd all be in vain because he'd be dead and-)
He tripped and caught himself once again.
"…" This was taking a very long time. Surely he should've made it
somewhere by now shouldn't he? Did he manage to get himself lost
on top of everything else? Had Urahara's sketchy invention been a
dud? He did say it was a prototype. (Or maybe it was never meant
to take him anywhere in the first place and the bastard had left him
to die like-)
He shook his head. Well wouldn't that be just perfect, being forced to
spend the rest of eternity trapped in the void until either his power
tipped past critical and took him with it or he went irrevocably insane
from the the fact that he just couldn't seem to find the damned exit-
oh.
As if summoned, a bright light slipped onto his visual radar and
seemed to grow nearer with every passing second. He quickly
stomped on the breaks and screeched to a stop just before it, having
came this close to missing the mark completely. Taking a step back,
the teen carefully peered out into the distance at the sea of sand
below. Very distant. Man he was high up. "Hn a fall like that
would've- oof!"
Something slammed into his back, knocking him off-kilter and
sending him flailing through the open portal. Suddenly he was falling
and those 'distant sands' didn't look quite so distant anymore.
Ichigo screamed.
-------------------------------------[ - XV - ]-------------------------------
…
A****.
…
Wh. .re … ..ing?
…?
Yo. ..n't .. ..mfor…le ..ke .h.. .. .et up.
(…Nngh.)
Co.. .. .ow ..u .ren't ..ving up on m. .r. y..?
(W-Who?)
Do… yo. re…ber?
(I don't…?)
Sta.. .n .our ow. ..o .eet Al***, kee. m…ng for..rd wit..ut hesi..ti.n.
Eve. .f .ts jus. one st.. at a t..e, walk. .ow enoug. lyi.. aro..d. Get up.
(What?)
Get up All-
--------------------------------[ - XIV - ]------------------------------------
He inhaled sharply and was instantly rewarded with a mouth full of
sand. Sputtering, he noted how this was starting to become a
pattern. One that seriously needed to stop. He shifted around to lay
sprawled out on his back, eyes clamped shut as his breathing
evened out. Ichigo took a moment to just stay like that. God,
everything hurt. With head turned a bit to the side he finally decided
to open his eyes…only to find a face a breath away from his own.
He swore.
"Well that's one way to wake up." The figure remarked dryly.
Ichigo's mouth opened slightly before he paused then slowly let it fall
shut. Brown eyes narrowed thoughtfully as he took in the figure that
stood before him only to widen again when he drew back in
confusion. '…Tensa?' He blinked. No, that… didn't make any
sense. For a number of reasons, actually.
The first of which being the fact that -if his surroundings were any
indication- he was not currently within his inner world at the moment.
(That is to say, if the place hadn't up and decided one day that it
wanted to look exactly like the Hueco Mundo for no other reason
than to simply make him confused.) Sure, there was the possibility
that the spirit had decided to manifest into the physical realm for
whatever reason but that just gave rise to even more questions. Like
why was he even in that form to begin with? The last time he
checked he hadn't entered bankai or anything like that so there was
really no reason for him to be that way. Unless… whatever was
going on was affecting his zanpakuto too? Hn actually… now that he
looked closer there was a slight difference or two between the being
before him and the spirit of memory. (But still the resemblance was
uncanny.)
… And the guy was staring at him. Had he zoned out?
"You okay? You didn't hit your head there did you?" An eyebrow
hiked up slightly but the expression was otherwise impassive.
Yep, he had. But that was besides the point. The awkward silence
stretched between them for a bit longer until the other finally asked,
"You just going to keep sitting there?"
"Um…" He replied smartly.
Not-Tensa rolled his eyes and huffed. Hand extended, he proffered it
for the other to grasp. When he made no move to do so he leaned
forward"
"Ah don't-"
-and firmly clasped it in his own.
…What?
He hefted the balking teen up with ease, lips curved into a bland
smirk as if he hadn't done something that which by all rights
should've been impossible. Ichigo was certain he was gaping at the
moment but seriously what the actual hell man? The way the other's
eyebrow raised, as if to say 'what of it?' certainly wasn't helping
matters any. Just who was this guy?!
Apparently either completely oblivious or someone who simply did
not give a fuck to any kind of social convention if the way he now
dragged him along was anything to go by. "H-Hold on a second!
What the hell?! Let go!" Ichigo finally had the good sense to start
struggling against the other's grasp but alas was unable to break
free. Damn, the guy's grip was like iron. "Where are you dragging
me?" That was definitely not a note of panic in his voice, nosiree.
But the other merely ignored him as he hummed under his breath.
The fingers of his free hand tapping rhythmically against his pants
leg, as if they were sketching out a melody that only he were privy to.
(He wondered briefly what that strange melody would sound like if it
were played across the set of a fine ivory keyboard before he shook
his head. Now wasn't the time for such things.) Abruptly the
humming cut off. Then-
"What the hell is that?!"
A doorway of ethereal white had flickered into view amongst the
desert sands. The man's grip tightened as if sensing his suddenly
renewed desire to abscond the fuck out of there and slowly began to
drag him toward the light. It was at this point the teen began to
struggle in earnest. Because okay, yeah, no. There was no way in
hell he was going to let himself be placidly dragged along into
whatever-the-fuck that was, weird zanpakuto doppelganger
notwithstanding!
"Hey! I'm not-" A sharp tug had him nearly biting his tongue as he
stumbled forward. Just barely able to catch himself in time and avoid
a nasty spill he shot the man's back a dirty glare that sadly served to
do little to help his predicament. He wasn't quite sure how but he
thought he could feel the faint amusement bleeding from the man's
frame. Asshole. And it was with that the struggling youth
disappeared into the doorway of light.
-------------------------------[ -XV- ]---------------------------------------
White.
That's all that he could see.
A empty town with white cobbled roads, white stone doors, white
window frames, white wooden floors. Down a white hallway that lead
to a white room with a white piano across from a white couch next to
where he now stood. No matter where he turned there it was, that
damned colour -or rather- lack of it. It sent a shiver up his spine. (A
flicker of memory crossed his mind of a white moon in a dark sky
across endless white sands; of long -short- red -black- hair and
brown -black- eyes, crying, crying; of black cloth and white stone
and white hands stained red red red- "Ichigo!" "*****!") He blinked.
How had he even wound up in this situation again? Oh right, that
asshole. He strained against the vice-like grip with a huff. Suddenly
the death hold was dropped as his kidnapper made to brush past
him. The man padded across to where the instrument lay and
promptly claimed its bench as his own. Upon having been seated he
turned and gave a gesture for him to do the same. He did, keeping
his eyes trained firmly on the other as he slowly shifted Zangetsu
from his holster to rest conspicuously upon his lap. The action and
its clear intent seemed to evoke a small smile from the other.
"Way you were thrashing I would've expected to be held at knifepoint
sooner rather than later."
An utterly flat stare. "It's kind of hard to hold someone at knifepoint
when the one with the knife is the one being dragged along through
god-knows-where by a weirdo with no concept of personal space
boundaries. But something tells me you already knew that." He
drawled.
A conceding nod. "But not impossible if one was truly inclined." Not-
Tensa added, looking over at the blade with an almost appreciative
eye. "Not that it would have done much with your current state being
what it is at the moment." Bright eyes gave the teen's hastily
bandaged hand a significant look. Ichigo -refusing to rise to the bait snorted. He shifted forward, letting the damaged limb splay against
the flat of the blade and met the other's gaze.
"And just who are you to care about a thing like that?"
The man smirked.
"Well, truthfully I've held many a title over the years, some being
more…creative than others. But I suppose something to best suit
the current situation would be…hm yes. You can call me, ****!"
… What?
A bead of sweat dribbled down the young teen's spine as the heavy
feeling of something utterly foreign and cold settled down upon him.
The man had clearly said something so why couldn't he…? Quickly
schooling his features, the teen then asked in as nonchalant of a
way as he could manage: "Could you repeat that? I didn't quite catch
it the first time."
The other's brow furrowed, a faint glimmer of something flickered
through his eyes before it was gone. Ichigo watched as he did as he
was asked, observing how the man's lips went slowly through the
motions again to say his name and…nothing.
Complete and utter silence.
Even though he should've been able to, even though he could
almost taste the sting of syllables on his tongue, he just couldn't
make out a sound. The other's expression was inscrutable, a
carefully bland mask as he observed but the teen paid it little mind
because that thing right there? That's what did it for him. More than
the other's inexplicable resistance to whatever weirdness that was
going on with him, more than the strange portals to stranger
bleached ghost towns and their unnerving (familiar) emptiness, it
was that: the silence where it should not have been. That was what
scared him.
"Well, this is a problem." The man sighed, "Although not much of a
surprising one." And then in an undertone, "You always did like to
make things unnecessarily difficult."
That last little bit drew the teen up short, successfully dragging him
out of the beginnings of a downward spiral that he nearly found
himself in. At least for the moment anyway. "You make it sound like
we're already well acquainted." 'And I know I've never seen you
before in my life.' He thought to himself. 'So there's no way.'
Right?
"In a way, yes." Before Ichigo could ask what the hell that meant the
man suddenly sat back and slapped his hands together, startling the
boy. "I have an idea! Why don't we play a round of twenty
questions?"
Okay, what?
The confusion must've been apparent because he went on to
explain, "Understandable that you would have questions about any
number of things. Things that I may or may not hold the answers to,
so what better way to solve this little dilemma than with a bit of back
and forth hm?"
"Okay first off: I'm…pretty sure that's not how 'twenty questions'
works-"
"Semantics."
"-and second, something tells me that you'd be getting a lot more out
of this deal than I would." And I'm not quite sure how I feel about that
to be honest.
It was brief but he caught the faint flicker of something in the man's
eyes before it was gone with an apathetic shrug, "Fair enough. But
honestly, what have you really got to lose at this point? I mean with
your condition…" The other trailed off with a significant look and that
made his hackles rise.
'Oh I can think of a few things.' He thought, having to bite back the
retort. His hand twitched faintly at his side. While it was true that he
could perhaps get some of his many questions answered such as:
'How was it that you were able to grab me without a thought while
my friends couldn't so much as touch me without getting hurt?' or
'What exactly are you because I know for a damn fact that there's no
way you could be a normal human being or even a spirit for that
matter with that creepy vibe you're giving off right now,' and his
personal favourite: 'Why the hell can't I hear your name?' but was it
worth it?
Some nagging feeling in the back of his mind whispered no; that
giving this zanpakuto lookalike could potentially do more harm than
good. This was further exasperated by the sensation that he felt
emanating off of the man, something not too dissimilar from the one
that he received from that damned shopkeeper. And if there was one
thing that he had learned for certain it was to always be on your
guard whenever that mad scientist was involved. But, that being
said…
"Alright." He shifted forward with an acquiescing tick of the head,
"Let's see what you got."
The man visibly brightened, "Knew you'd come around eventually.
So why don't I start us off with something nice and easy like… oh,
how about your name?"
('My name? Oh, why it's-')
…?
The teen shifted slightly, settling back into the stiff fabric of the
cushions. An orange brow hiked up just a bit. "Shouldn't you know
already?"
"Of course, but it'd be rather rude not to allow you the chance to
introduce yourself don't you think? After all it is usually the first
introduction upon which one usually draws their opinion of another is
it not?"
"I guess?"
"…" A blank smile.
Slender digits traveled along the flat of the knife, an arrhythmic beat
tapped along in their wake. "…"
"… Well?"
"Well what?"
"Aren't you?"
"Aren't I what ?"
"Going to introduce yourself?" The other stated plainly, as if pointing
out the obvious.
'Seeing as there isn't much of a damn point why would I?' He thought with a sort of blank incredulity because surely the man had to have been fucking with him, but no, from the expectant gaze trained upon him he realized that the guy was dead serious. Weird.
He vented out a huff and proceeded to -in the single most sarcastic
and utterly done voice that he could muster- say, "Hello I'm-"
('-A***n ***k*r-')
"-Kurosaki Ichigo and I'm-"
('-an Exorcist-')
"-a Substitute Shinigami. I think its been a real pleasure to have been able to hang out in this creepy colourless ghost town with only
my zanpakuto's weird doppelganger for company, how about you?"
"…Somehow I doubt all that." Said doppelganger deadpanned. "And
what do you mean weird?" He added as an afterthought.
Blatantly ignoring this the teen plowed on, "My turn, so where are we
anyway?"
The man ceased his muttering and turned to look at the boy, "Just for
the sake of clarification: do you mean in general or-" a gloved hand
waved vaguely at the space around them, "-the room we're currently
in, or perhaps even-"
"Just answer the damn question!" Ichigo barked, his patience finally
having snapped.
The man seemed to blink and give him another one of those curious
stares before finally something shifted and his eyes lost that playful
glow. It was a subtle change but a definitive one, having the teen
subconsciously sitting up a touch with a slight frown as the sobered
air settled upon them. A brief irrational thought had him wonder if,
just perhaps, he might have said the wrong thing but he pressed on.
After all, he deserved at least that didn't he? Besides, he had seen
all kinds of weirdness so whatever the man threw at him couldn't be
that bad compared to some of the other things he'd witnessed.
Probably.
The other leaned forward, carefully pressing the fingertips of his
gloved hands together, "Tell me boy, are you familiar with the story of
Noah?"
"'Noah?'" He questioned, tasting the syllables as they rolled across
his tongue. "Vaguely." Was the orange-headed teen's answer, tone
contemplative as he flicked through old conversations in his mind's
eye. "It's a story from the bible, isn't it?" Upon the other's look he
elaborated, "My friend, Chad, his grandfather was born in Mexico
and raised to be Catholic so when Chad was younger the two of
them spent a lot of time together at the local church where they
would pray and sometimes read from the scripture. Apparently that
story used to be one of his favourites. I remember him telling me
about it."
Chocolate eyes lifted to meet tarnished gold and he had to blink, had
they always been that color? There was something haunting about
those eyes that held him. A soul-searing pair with an intense
otherworldly quality, not quite unlike another pair that he knew of,
albeit, without the inverted scelera and the wild madness he knew
that lie underneath. Hopefully anyway.
Shaking off the mental image he continued, "It was about this guy,
Noah, right? God was apparently pissed at the world because
humans -unsurprisingly- turned out to be a bunch of jerks all except
for this one dude. So god then tells the dude to build this giant ship
thing and to load up his family and a zoo on it because basically god
told him he was gonna go to town on everyone else and didn't want
them caught in the crossfire. And so everyone but them died and the
world reset or something like that." His brow furrowed a bit as he
thought back to remember just what had been said, "Sorry, it's kind
of been a while since I heard it." Plus there had been a bit of
paraphrasing too but he had gotten the gist of it more or less.
And what if I were to say that story, or at the very least an
unbastardized version of it, was but all too real?"
He was silent for a moment, "I'd say: all stories have to start
somewhere. More often than not it's the craziest ones that have a
basis in fact." A pause, "And would it be wrong to assume you had
something to do with it?" The following silence was confirmation
enough.
"Would you be willing to share then?" As if sensing the stirring of
uneasiness he quickly added, "If not everything, then what you can?"
He knew first hand what it was like to have things that you wanted to
keep to yourself, painful insidious things forcefully locked away so
that you never had to see-think-hear of them ever again in the light
of day. He understood. But conversely, he also knew the danger of
silence.
"In time, perhaps. The past is… complicated. For more reasons than
you know." He murmured quietly, appearing for a moment as if
weighted down with some great unfathomable burden. And then it
was gone, replaced with what was beginning to become a familiar
mask. "Back to your previous question, this place-" a gesture to the
space around them, "-was once our home, among other things. 'The
Ark' we deemed it, home to the clan of Noah. And this very room in
which we now sit?" A faint smile flickered into being as he turned
back to face the piano, hand running gently over the ivory keys.
Shadowed eyes stared into the mid-distance, attention snagged by
something that only he could see. "Its center-" Golden irises side-eyed him from where he sat, "-or Heart, if you will."
Ichigo felt his bandaged hand twitch faintly as his own heart decided
to stop and skip a beat. This gave him a moment's pause as there
was no rhyme nor reason for the action. "Yeah?" He said with a
mental shake of the head and attempted to distract himself from the
peculiar behaviour, "And what did you do in here?"
"A bit of this and that. Play piano." The man shrugged, "Other stuff."
"This 'other stuff' wouldn't just so happen to deal with anything that
might bring about the apocalypse now would it?" He had honestly
been half-kidding but when the other didn't respond he felt a minor
spike of alarm. Seriously? The teen cleared his -suddenly dry- throat
and, as if without any input from himself, the following escaped his
lisp, "Just what is the Ark?"
The Noah froze, hand poised above the keys before slowly it
retracted and fell limply back to his lap. "It's… The best way to
describe it would be 'a world between worlds'; a sort of in-between
place with many 'doors' that could lead to anywhere and anything
that your mind could think of, and even some it can't." His lips curved
into a little half-smirk, "I suppose you could compare it a bit to
something like the Dangai with a couple of senkaimon thrown in but
better looking and with marginally less things that would try to kill you at the moment."
'Like a doorway…' Chocolate eyes widened, "That white gate thing
in the desert."
"Mhm." He nodded.
"Then…that thing you were humming…the way your fingers kept
twitching…" A keen gaze trailed along to the only other thing with
them in the everpresent white. 'As if you were playing a song…'
"The Key."
Ichigo looked at him, "Key?"
"An audi-visual system directory entered into a specific frequency
only accessible via the correct pattern being paired with a certain
physical device i.e.: a musical instrument for example."
"So play the piano open the door." He summarized.
"Basically." The Noah shot him a vaguely amused look, "What? You
didn't think this thing here was just for show did you?"
"Ah, no." He coloured faintly. Not gonna lie though, he had been kind
of wondering what its deal was though. "So, like, can anyone control
it if they had the passcode or is there something extra that makes it
user-specific or something?"
He quirked a brow, "Why, curious?"
"No." Yes. "I was just wondering if you had to be a pianist or if
anything else would do." A small shrug.
"And just what's wrong with the piano?" Was it him or did the guy
almost seem…affronted?
He returned this with a blank stare and a vague gesture to said instrument, "I can't play for shit. Any instrument really." He thought for a second, "No wait, I can play guitar. Sort of. Chad's been giving me lessons."
The musician matched this with a blank look of his own. "…Right.
You know? It's not that hard. C'mere I'll show you." Ichigo almost got
up to follow until he remembered his current predicament.
"Actually, it'd probably be a better idea for me to just stay over here
ya'know?" He absently toyed with the frayed fabric that wrapped
around his left wrist. There had been no time to find a proper
bandage so he had used a strip of Zangetsu's cloth and he hoped
the sword hadn't minded too much, it had been kind of an
emergency after all so probably not.
The Noah stared him blankly for a second before a light seemed to
click on. "Ah right, I suppose some other time then."
Yeah, if he could ever get that random disintegration under wraps
then sure. But until then he was better off staying away from
important looking things, or anything alive for that matter. He'd
probably wind up accidentally burning some poor bastard's skin off
when they tried to touch him like what happened to Ishida and…wait.
"Hey, how did you grab me?" Seeing the look of confusion he
clarified, "Back in the desert, you dragged me here. How?" Because
by all rights he shouldn't have been able to do so.
Not-Tensa tilted his head to the side, "You mean how did I escape
injury via that ridiculous and unstable mess that you call your
spiritual presence? Oh don't look so surprised, it'd literally be
impossible not to notice." Gold eyes watched the teen keenly. "I
assume you have some clue as to what is going on?"
"I know what its doing-"
(a surge of power, the sharp crack of a body hitting pavement,
burning flesh and a scream-)
"But not why." The Noah finished. "I might have a theory." He pointed
to the wrapped fist, "But I'm going to have to see that first."
Dark brown eyes turned wary as their owner gave a hard stare,
finally -lips taught- he followed with a slow nod. The cloth came off
with little trouble, its purpose having been fulfilled and thus
reabsorbed back into the spiritual fabric from where it came. This
continued on until the very last little bit peeled off to reveal-
"What the actual fuck?"
Bizarre. That was the only way to describe it. That long messy cut he
had received what felt like a lifetime ago back at the shop had sealed
over with this strange thing. He could see small flecks of it scattered
around the back of his hand, sinking into the tan flesh, corrupting it .
Hesitantly he felt along the edge, taking in the smooth almost glasslike quality and ethereal sheen. It felt warm, almost-
(Innocent)
A set of gloves gently took his hand. He started. "Its just as I
thought."
Ichigo tore his eyes away to gape at the Noah. "What?"
"That-" A nod to the hand, "-right there is the reason for all your
problems." He shot the hand a look as though it had personally
offended him somehow. "The sporadic power swells and blockages,
mood swings, hell even the fact that you've still been able to
galavant about as a patron of souls in the first place. Its all because
of this." He gave the stone a tap, eliciting a shiver. The teen was
torn between asking how he knew this and telling the man to back
the hell off because he was too close but was cut off when he began
to speak again, "You've probably been subconsciously syncing with it
for weeks and all it needed was a single opening and bam you're an
Accommodator."
"Okay." He carefully pulled his hand out of the other's grip, "So what
am I supposed to do about that?"
He sat back on his haunches and appeared to think it over for a bit
before pulling a face, "Well there's nothing for it." He sighed,
scratching the back of his head with a gloved hand. "Unless you
want to spend the rest of your short existance in isolation -haunted
by the weight of your failures as you begin your slow but assured
descent into madness and subsequent self-destruction- you have to
synchronize with it." The resigned way he said it, as if he were being
put upon by something truly bothersome, made the teen twitch just a bit.
"So saying I do this thing, what happens?"
"Well, it should allow for things to reach a stable equilibrium…"
"But?" He prompted.
"I'm not going to lie to you, once you choose to do something like
this there isn't any going back. Because if you successfully manage
to come out of this there's a strong possibility that things are going to
be…different. You're going to be different. Different in ways that not
even I could foresee."
"I see." He shut his eyes for a moment. The faces of his family and
friends flashed though his mind in an instant. Silently he clenched his
fist. 'No going back huh?' His focus shifted to the blade sitting on
his lap and he remembered the spirit's words. To hesitate and he
would be stuck here, trapped at a crossroads until time claimed him.
To go back was a death sentence for certain. So that only left one
thing, to move on and keep walking forward. He opened his eyes
and met the golden gaze head on with a level stare.
"What do I have to do?"
"Just try to focus on your left hand. Now, do you feel the swirling
energies there in the center trying to mix and incorporate with your
own?"
"…Yeah?"
"Let it. Don't try to fight it. Accept it." It hurt. A gloved hand reached
up to cup the pained teen's cheek and he opened his eyes (when
had they closed?) His hand burned with something fierce wrenching
soul-deep and he felt his breath get caught on molten gold and warm
skin bleeding into inhuman grey. The Noah shot him a rueful smile.
"Then you say the magic words."
Lips moved unbidden with a memory long forgotten, "Innocence: Activate." And the world flashed a dizzying whirl of grey-blue-green-white and then went dark.
--------------------------------[ - XIV - ]------------------------------------
"It's time to get up now my little nephew, you've been asleep long
enough. Get up Allen. Wake up."
--------------------------------[ - XV - ]------------------------------------Waking up somewhere with a head full of memories that one had not
had prior to falling unconscious was a hell in of itself and suffice to
say he currently had the mother of all headaches. If it were not for
the fact that he had sworn off alcohol both in this life and the last
(and boy wasn't that a thought) he could've sworn this was what a
hangover felt like. He bit back a groan. Where was he anyway?
The last thing he remembered was the moonlit sands of Hueco
Mundo before being dragged upon the Ark by his insufferable arse of
an uncle. Who also knew that the Ark's reach appearantly extended
into the afterlife and neglected to tell him. He'd have to talk to him
about it when he was less annoyed at him of course because the
Noah was kind of on his shit list at the moment. Afterall, not only had
he somehow managed to disguise himself and convince him that he
had been a sword spirit of all things, he had done so all the while
binding up the true essence of his powers. Thus allowing for things
to escalate so out of hand that he couldn't successfully hold back the
flood anymore resulting in their impromptu powwow in the Ark. A
perfectly reasonable excuse to be mad at somebody, right?
And, okay so he might not've actually remembered him or his
penchant for pulling shit like that at the time but now he did and it
was the principle of the matter and seriously who the hell does stuff
like that?!
"Someone who actually has a sense of self-preservation, unlike
yourself."
The youth started. Well 'started' is a bit of an understatement, more
like: jerked up and awake with a yelp before getting immediately
slammed with a vicious wave of vertigo sending one careening head-over-heels to the floor. He cracked an eye open and stared blearily
up at the ceiling. Allen (or was it Ichigo now? Urgh, this was gonna
get confusing…) stared blankly at the familiar walls painted black in
the pre-dawn hour. His room, he was in his room and that was his
bed that he had just fell off of like an idiot. Vaguely he felt the Noah's
amusement filter through the back of his mind. The bastard was
laughing at him right now.
Muttering a few choice words under his breath, he leveraged himself
up and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair with a sigh.
Had he woke anyone else with that little spill just now? He froze,
taking a second to listen and see if he could hear if either of the girls
had stirred. (Sisters! He had sisters!) Hm, seems like they were still
asleep. Good, it was still kind of early after all. Satisfied with his
assessment he allowed himself a moment to simply not think and
just take everything in and confirm that, yes, this was indeed his
room that his mortal body was now currently in.
How did he even get back here anyway? He had the sneaking
suspicion that his uncle had something to do with it. Well there was
no sense beating around the bush. "Neah?" He asked catching the
other's attention, "Did you do something to me?"
"Now what makes you think that?" He made sure the other could
feel the flatness of his look. "You honestly think I would take
advantage of your indisposed state to 'borrow' your body for my own
personal use? Why Allen I'm almost insulted-"
Yes, because you've done it before. Multiple times.
"-really, have you no faith my nephew? For shame."
"Neah what did you do ?" The youth asked with a growing sense of
alarm.
"Oh, nothing." A nonchalant shrug, "By the way did you know
Kisuke's shop has a rather impressive stock of sweets? Some of
them I haven't even seen in centuries! Apparently Tessai likes to
custom make them in his free time, not something people really take
the time to do anymore these days you know?" Whatever alarm he
had felt had multiplied tenfold as the other blithely went on. "Oh he
left you a note by the way."
"What?"
"On the back of your hand -no not that one the other one- yes your
right." He flipped the limb over and blinked at the messy scrawl in
what looked to be (and knowing the blond probably was) permanent
marker pen. From there he began to read:
"'Ichigo (or whatever relevant name you may now go by), after you
left for your understandable and completely justifiable alone time it
was brought to a general concensus that I, being the bright and
incredibly humble shopkeep that I am-" He had to snort at this, "-
would be the one to help find a solution for your little problem. (It
should also be said that your friends can put up quite the convincing
argument expessially when aided by Inoue-san's intriguing and -dare
I say it- somewhat terrifying imagination.) And I was all set up to do
so until -imagine my surprise- I found that the problem had up and
resolved itself! Naturally my curiosity was piqued and it was only with
the apperance of a certain somebody that the questions I had were
oh so graciously answered. He was even willing to indulge the
curious scientist in me for a bit!-'"
"What?!" The teen hissed, stopping himself for a second as
narrowed eyes stared down at the scribbled text. The Noah of
course offered no explanation and he sighed. Resigning himself to a
month's worth of paranoia and check-overs in order to see if the two
madmen had done anything else to him.
A mental nudge drew his attention back to the note, "'-So it was upon
further examination that we found with the assistance of the
substance (of what I'm now informed is to be known as Innocence -
fascinating stuff really-) now present in both your physical and
spiritual bodies there was created a sort of stabilized equilibrium so
that you are no longer in danger of a catastrophic meltdown,
congrats! Oh and I'm not mad at you for what happened to my shop
and the Innocence samples, the data you provided was more than
enough to cover what you owed for the damages.'" He twitched ever
so faintly.
"Don't forget the post-script!"
'There's more?' He flipped it over to his palm, "P.S. Tell your uncle I
said hi! He's given me such great ideas and that Tessai's always
willing to talk over tea again. Oh and enjoy the new hair, it looks
quite good on you! Bye-bye~ Kisuke'" He let the hand fall. So he
wasn't a ticking time bomb anymore, that was good. But the thought
of his uncle and the dubious shopkeep being anywhere remotely
near one another caused him to shudder.
"Oh come on, he's not that bad." His uncle chided.
"Yes he is and so are you. You're both horrible, horrible monsters
who thrive on chaos and destruction and proceed to drag anyone
unlucky enough to be within blast-radius down with you via your own
personalized brands of insanity." He intoned flatly, "And what did he
mean hair?!"
"Now before I say anything I don't want you to freak out. It was a bit
of an unexpected side effect from the transition but don't worry you
look fine. And, hey, it's not like you're a stranger to having weird hair."
"Neah you are terrible at reassuring people now what happened to
my hair?" He attempted to tug at the short strands to no avail.
"You might've gone a bit prematurely grey but like I said its not that
much of a big deal. It isn't completely white, just… most of it." He
was quick to offer.
"My hair's white?" Again? Damn it all, of all the things to carry over.
He'd already been through this once with certain people (who shall
remain nameless) calling him 'strawberry' he didn't need to be
'beansprout' as well. He groaned softly and flopped back, arm
shielding his eyes. At least he hadn't been cursed with a lack of
height this go around like a certain snow-headed captain that he
knew.
He lifted the arm and stared at it. Tired eyes traced the contours of
the reddened flesh as he slowly flexed, watching as the embedded
stone glimmered with its own quiet light. A small frown graced his
lips. This was quite the fine mess that he had gotten himself in
wasn't it?
What was he supposed to now? Sure he could always dye his hair
but what of his arm? Long-sleeved shirts and gloves would only work
for so long and what of his personality? You can't exactly hide a
whole lifetime's worth of memories and experiences forever, not
without having those close to you start to worry. And it'd be an icy
day in hell before he let something like that happen.
So they'd have to come up with something to keep them from
freaking out…and then what? Once everything was said and done
where did they go from there? What was there for a once-exorcist turned-substitute-shinigami and the Noah that he housed who just so happened to be his past incarnation's adopted uncle?
"Well whatever there is we'll just have to persevere through it for
better or worse. Besides it isn't as though you haven't had your own
fair share of problems before, now have you?"
He had a point. He just had to keep walking huh? The youth's lips
curved into a bittersweet smile. Yeah, he could do that.
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☆ COVER UP — tattoo artist!GETO SUGURU
summary: all you wanted was a cover up tattoo to replace the name your ex left on you. you didn't think you'd be leaving the tattoo shop with a replacement for your ex's tattoo and a replacement for him as well.
wc: 3k
cw: afab!reader, geto gives you backshots, he's kinda obsessed w/ your ass here, unprotected sex (since I forget condoms) BUT he's a gentleman pulls out </3 your kinda a meanie. he's kinda a meanie so light angst (?) but barely. MDNI
an: haven't posted a longer work in a hot minute, but here is how you meet tattoo artist boyfriend!geto soooo give this one a chance big fanks to my lil twat @kazushawty for helping me out and reading bits of it.
as you push open the heavy glass door of ‘cursed ink studios,’ a subtle bell chimes softly, announcing your presence. instantly, the atmosphere inside crackles with an electric charge. the air is thick with the intoxicating scent of ink, mingling with the sterile bite of antiseptic. the walls are adorned with vivid flash art form a chaotic tapestry, while the rhythmic hum of a tattoo gun echoes through the room.
and there he is, geto suguru – a tall, enigmatic figure with jet-black hair and sleeves of mesmerising tattoos that seem to tell stories of their own. he sits at his workbench, surrounded by an array of ink bottles and tattoo machines, his piercing eyes never leaving the art he's creating. a carefully curated playlist of music plays softly in the background, punctuated by the occasional buzzing of the tattoo gun.
he glances up from his intricate work as you enter, his gaze slowly travelling up and down your form. there's a hint of curiosity in his eyes, as though he's wondering why you, of all people, have ventured into his sacred space. his expression, however, suggests that he's far from thrilled about the interruption.
"need something?" he asks, his irritation evident.
"i need a cover-up” you swallow your nerves, holding your head high, your voice steady, ”my ex's name."
geto raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed by your request. "ex's name, huh? you people never learn."
your jaw clenches at his condescending tone. "well, i'm here now, so can you do it or not?"
he continues to scrutinise you, his gaze feeling like a judgmental weight. finally, he nods, albeit reluctantly. "fine, show me."
with a sigh of resignation, you turn around, your heart pounding as you pull down the waistband of your jeans just enough to reveal the offending name covering your left ass cheek. it's a constant reminder of a relationship gone wrong, and you're more than ready to be rid of it.
"this won't be easy," he mutters, his fingers cool against your skin as he traces the outline of the name. his touch lingers, just a little too long, sending an unexpected shiver down your spine. his fingers, skilled and confident, continued to trace the inked letters of your ex's name on your skin — almost toyingly. and you could feel the chill of the tattoo parlour's air-conditioning contrasted by the warmth of his touch.
his voice, though still gruff, held a trace of disgust "who did this?" he asks, not looking up from the tattoo.
you hesitate, your memories of that past relationship flooding back. "my ex-boyfriend," you reply tersely.
geto's fingers stop their tracing, and he lets out a low, almost imperceptible sigh. "you let your boyfriend do a shitty tattoo on you, and you let him make it his name," he mutters, more to himself than to you. "you practically let him brand you."
“is it your job to be such a bitchy artist?” you snap, already fed up by his comments. you’ve heard it from your parents, your friends, ever since you got that trashy tattoo. but couldn't disagree with that sentiment — you knew it was a shit tattoo. “i thought i was paying you for your artistry, not your smart mouth.”
"listen," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "you walk in here with that god awful mess on your skin, and you've got the nerve to criticise my attitude? if you want to be rid of it, you'll do well to keep that attitude in check, sweetheart."
you bite back a retort, realising that you've indeed crossed a line with your comment. there's a palpable tension in the air now, a simmering anger beneath the surface, and it seems that geto has no intention of backing down.
with a deep breath, you swallow your pride and offer a reluctant apology. "i'm sorry," you mutter, a touch of remorse in your voice. "i shouldn't have snapped at you."
he continues to hold your gaze for a moment, his expression still stern, before finally nodding. "apology accepted."
you didn’t actually have an idea of what you wanted for the cover up, you just knew you needed it gone. geto was a highly sought out cover artist so you had no doubt that he’d be able to do you good. with your initial meeting being heated, you thought it was best to leave him to do his thing.
with a sense of relief that the confrontation has subsided, you decide to give geto some space to work his magic. "i'll leave you to it," you say, your voice quieter now, and you turn away from him.
"good," he mutters, his focus fully on his ipad as he starts to sketch, not even looking as you leave the shop.
geto usually was quick to draw up tattoo sketches for clients, but when it came to you he was stunned — too busy thinking about how your ass looked rather than what he was meant to tattoo on it. from the moment you stepped in his shop, he was intrigued, you didn’t see the type to get work done by him and the marking stretched on your ass didn’t seem like it would belong to someone with an attitude like yours.
his mind was anything but focused on the design. he couldn't help but replay the encounter with you in his thoughts, your brashness and the way you'd stood your ground, even under his scrutiny.
"why the hell did she get that shitty tattoo?" he mutters to himself, his fingers deftly working his pen. the sketch was beginning to take shape, but his mind kept drifting back to the curve of your ass. he couldn't deny the attraction he felt, and it frustrated him. he was supposed to be a professional, detached from his clients beyond the art he created on their skin. but something about you had thrown him off balance.
“so you ready to get this tatted on you?” is the first thing he asks when you return the following day. you inspect his sketches in awe, of course you never doubted his talent but you didn’t think he’d be able to draw something you wanted without you even having to say.
“well it seems you do live up to your reputation,” you comment with a neutral facade, but you both know that you were downplaying your excitement — you were pleased. and like with any client, that made geto satisfied that he was doing his job correctly. but when he saw the way your eyes lit up when he initially showed you the sketches, it was a sight he wanted to see again. “i guess we can start the tattoo.”
“okay i’ll get my stuff set up, get rid of those,” he says nodding towards your jeans, “and lay down when you’re ready.” you slip yourself out of your bottoms, leaving the itty bitty thong that you knew you’d need for the appointment and that a small part of you hoped he liked.
he pauses when he sees you laying down on the seat in his station, your head resting in your arms, your ass slightly raised. ‘this is gonna be a long session,’ he thinks to himself as he smirks, shaking his head as he works his way to his seat.
as he sits down, he places the stencil over your ass, and you berate yourself for getting giddy at the feeling of him rubbing over the design to make sure it was in place — wishing that his hand stayed for longer.
“how are you with pain?” he asks, and from the way you were laying you weren’t able to see the way he was gawping at your ass.
“what type of pain?” you retort.
“y’know the type of pain where someones drilling into your ass for hours,” he comments as if it’s obvious but you both knew his words were hinting at more than just the tattoo.
“choice words there,” you muse, “but any type of pain i’m alright with, so give me your best.”
geto's needle hovers just above your skin, poised for action. "you sure about that?" he murmurs, his voice low and suggestive.
a coy smile tugs at your lips as you respond, "I can handle it if you can."
with a deliberate, almost tantalising slowness, he lowers the needle to your skin. the first touch is a sharp, stinging sensation, but you refuse to flinch. you're determined to hold your own, to meet geto's challenge head-on.
he continues to work, the needle dancing across your skin with a practised precision. the room is filled with the rhythmic sound of the tattoo machine, creating a hypnotic backdrop to your growing tension.
as minutes turn into hours, you find yourself lost in a strange mixture of pleasure and pain. the pain is undeniable, but there's something oddly exhilarating about it. you steal a glance at geto, his intense focus on his work, and you can't help but wonder if he's enjoying this as much as you are.
"still doing okay?" he asks, his tone a mix of concern and something more primal.
you bite your lower lip, suppressing a moan that threatens to escape. "i told you, i can handle it."
geto smirks, his gaze locked on your ass as he continues to tattoo. "you've got quite the threshold for pain. impressive."
“is it really? i'm sure you’ve worked on a lot of other clients with higher thresholds for pain.”
“but none of them have had an ass like yours though,” he mumbles to himself — but you hear him loud and clear, a grin forming on your face at the confession. “anyways, we’re all done now, go ahead and look in the mirror.”
you stand in the full length mirror, your head slightly turned at an angle as you gawp at your ass. your eyes widen seeing what was once your shitty exes name, now turned into a piece of true art.
“so what d’you think?” he asks, and you didn’t even notice him coming to stand behind you until you felt his breath on the back of your neck, “this shit is hot right?”
“you can say that again,” you agree, keeping your eyes focused on the tattoo, trying to ignore the quickening of your heart beat at the presence of him, “this is really great though, like i couldn’t imagine my ass could look this good after having that tattooed on on it all his time.”
“well no need to imagine anymore,” geto’s face forms a smiling grin, you can tell he was admiring way more than just his artwork, “you mind if i take a picture… for my instagram?” he says, barely asking as his phone is already out of his pocket and is in his hands, he looks up at you for permission and you give a slight nod before he’s snapping away at your ass.
“are you sure this is for your instagram,” you tease, as he continues to take photos crouched down, as he circles your ass with his phone, “or is this just for your personal wank bank?”
“would you like it to be?” he retorts back swiftly, there wasn’t even any mischief in his eyes as he looks up at you, just pure lust.
“um i–” you stutter, only now feeling exposed — as if he hadn’t been working on your ass already for the past six hours.
“don’t get shy on me now,” he coos, standing up to face you head on, “y’gonna let me finish off making you forget that ex or yours or what?”
“be my guest,” you respond, trying to come across as nonchalant, but the eager look in your eyes gave geto all he needed to know.
he pushes you softly, as he commands, “hands against the mirror and spread your legs.” and you do just that, as he comes behind you, fitting in between your legs perfectly. his hand forces ur back down, deeping the arch of your spine before both of his hands grab onto your ass.
geto really rubs and digs his thumbs into your cheeks, biting his lip at the sight at the way his fingers mould into your ass. “fuckk man,” he groans out, he’s not even in you yet and he was already obsessed with every inch of you.
he frees his dick from his pants, and pumps it quickly before sliding it across your already gushing slit. you hiss at the contact, a pleased smile working its way on your face as the tip of his dick edges into you.
“s-shit,” you stammer, as he inches himself into you deeper, “w-what about the rest of the shop?”
“what about them?” he shrugs, “you don’t want them to hear naught you’re being right now? HEY GUYS—”
“oi,” you hiss out, your eyes widening as you turn your head to look directly at him.
“i’m just playing, i’m not ready to share you quite just yet,” he retorts, his dick moving in you at an achingly slow pace, “now, keep your eyes focused on the mirror, and you better not let those hands slip.”
before you can respond, he thrust his hips into you as deep as he could, his dick slamming into you. you moan out at the surprising force, trying your best to keep your palms flat on the surface of the mirror, as you stare straight at him — watching how he works his hands from your ass to your hips so he can drive into you with all of his force.
“this pussy is s-so fucking good,” he praises, the sloppiness of your cunt making it easy for him to slide his dick in and out of you. “oh and this ass,” he continues giving a hard spank on your ass cheek, to emphasise his point, “c’mon throw your ass back on my dick, i wanna see it bounce.”
you fuck him back, doing exactly as he says, your ass meeting his hips with the same amount of force. his spanks encourage you to be quicker, to give him everything he wants. his repeating, strong strokes, have you feeling weaker, your hands slipping as you try to stay up right, when all you want to do is collapse and cum everywhere.
“f-fuckk it’s too much,” you whine, as he drills into you.
“nah,” he says, shrugging his head, “it’s not enough,” he lifts up his legs, his digits pressing into your deeper, as he now angles his strokes even further into your pussy, hitting your spot with ease. “give it to me harder, i know you can” he encourages, another two swift spanks landing on your ass.
with his continuous contact of your ass and his hips, and the way his dick pushes into you deeper, you felt like you were splitting in two. but you kept going, thinking back to your earlier conversation, you didn’t want to prove him wrong, you wanted to show him that you can handle it, handle him.
geto was practically beaming, licking his lips feverishly at the sight of your fucked out face through the mirror as he watches himself plough into you, your body rocking forward with every thrust. his eyes concentrate on your ass, as he says, “d’you see how your rocking my work on you now?” and you nod dumbly, too busy trying to reach your climax to string a sentence together, “so fuck that ex of yours and his shitty ass tattooing, from now on you only can me on your body, you got that?” he asks and you nod again, but he shakes his head, his hand moving from your waist to your chin as he grips it making your eyes stay locked on his through the mirror, “i said do you got that?”
“ahhh s-shit yet i do, i do,” you say, mirroring his words, “i will only have you on my body, ‘promise.”
“good girl,” he approves, giving your chin a squeeze before letting go, “now cum.”
with those simple words, you release all over him, your stance getting weaker, as you shoot out cum all over his dick. he’s quick to pull out of you though, stroking his dick as he sprays his cum all over your ass, with a deep groan.
your hands are still on the wall, as you take deep breaths, trying to recollect yourself. but you turn around swiftly seeing a flash of a camera behind you, and geto is back to crouching down, with his phone out, taking pictures of your cum covered ass.
“you mind if i keep these in my wank bank forreal this time?” he asks, smirking as you nod, “i’ll take some more later, but i got two questions to ask.”
“and those are…” you say, prompting him to continue.
“first, let me take you out after this?” he asks with a smirk, already knowing the answer. after the way he just dicked you down, you’d be a fool not to let him wine and dine you, “second, y’gonna come suffocate my face with that ass of yours or not?” you couldn’t even answer the second question since he’s pulling you down to the floor with him, with a joyous grin on his face.
AN: IGNORE THE FACT THAT HE CUMS ALL OVER UR FRESH TATTOO. LIKE JUST IGNORE IT. just focus on the fact that you have a lovely ass and geto loves it too. but yes do you want to see more, I HAVE ENOUGH IDEAS TO EVEN MAKE A LIL MASTERLIST FOR IT. I love tattoo artist boyfriend!geto so so much, like when u guys become an established relationship it actually gets so good. BUT I DONT REALLY LIKE THIS ONE, BUT IF U GUYS FW IT I PROMISE ILL ACTUALLY WRITE AND POST THE ONES I LOVE. BUT I FELT LIKE I HAD TO WRITE THIS FIRST SO YOU COULD SEE HOW U AND GETO STARTED. LMK UR THOUGHTS
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but mama, i love him ꨄ oscar piastri smau
oscar piastri x leclerc!reader
the one where oscar's girlfriend has been soft launching their relationship for ages. and he's okay with it, especially if it means he can keep hiding in plain sight from her three overprotective brothers.
ynleclerc
tagged charles_leclerc
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ynleclerc omg omg omg... charles leclerc signed my hat? should i add it to the shrine? give them something to sacrifice?
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username any non-f1 fan would automatically assume ynleclerc is a crazy fan page for charles
username or a charles leclerc hate page... all she does it make fun of her brothers here
username she's offering her signed hat for the tifosi to sacrifice for a CL16 win??? that seems like pure love all around
arthur_leclerc i also signed your hat?
ynleclerc i also do not care? will a hat signed by you get me millions if i sell it for sacrificial purposes?
charles_leclerc what's next? my personal belongings?
ynleclerc is that an offer? if so, oui. i will take what i think will make me the most money next time i'm there, merci <3
scuderiaferrari if it gets us a 1-2 finish, sacrifice everything ynleclerc... please 🙏
username being a Ferrari fan is so satisfying when you remember ynleclerc is an automatic inclusion in everything and anything charles does
username the things i would do to have her as a McLaren fan... she's too beautiful for Ferrari 😭
oscarpiastri a piastri hat will get you good money in straya btw
username oscar??
oscarpiastri
liked by logansargeant, landonorris, mclaren, and others
oscarpiastri 'stop hitting me with the ball on purpose you jerk' was said more times than it should've been, by someone who really just sucks at tennis. had an awesome week back home, time to get back to it 💪
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logansargeant no wonder you're so worried about getting run over
username the coordinating outfits?? i'm gonna scream, who is she!!!
username what does logan know, tell us your secrets girl logansargeant
username oscar is gonna soft launch this relationship until the end of time. show us her face, you coward!!
ynleclerc did you pay her for all the bruises that tennis ball left?? poor girl
oscarpiastri it's not my fault she's a terrible tennis player, we all know i've offered to pay for a trainer
landonorris so this is why you couldn't come to bali with me 🤨
username lando really said i'm the third wheel??
username to be fair i'd probably pick oscar's girlfriend over lando for a week away too
username girly you don't even know who she is!!! she could be the devil
username i wanna be included in oscar's post week home photo dump :(
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oscarpiastri you can call me pookie whenever you want if you're gonna post things like this
ynleclerc i'd call you pookie with or without your permission, mon amour
charles_leclerc who is this
charles_leclerc why won't you tell us who you're dating
charles_leclerc we won't hurt him
charles_leclerc answer my texts
ynleclerc
liked by oscarpiastri, pascale.leclerc.355, arthur_leclerc, and others
ynleclerc get you a man who can do both, luckiest woman in the world whenever you're around. mon amour 🤍
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username people involved in formula 1 and their obsession with soft launching everything NEEDS to be studied
username at least she posts her boyfriend and he isn't just a small figure in the background of every post (charles this is a direct hate comment)
arthur_leclerc this would have been very lovely if it weren't for the last photo
liked by charles_leclerc and lorenzotl
ynleclerc suppose it's a good thing you could easily ignore it. cheers :)
pascale.leclerc.355 trés belle, ma fille 💗
charles_leclerc maman?
username could you IMAGINE if ynleclerc told pascale but obviously hasn't told her brothers? i can FEEL the outrage
username starting to think this may be a driver, ynleclerc is at every race weekend and ALWAYS makes a post with her mystery man at some point during the week after...
username okay ms sleuth (i think it's lando)
username i'm like 65% sure it's oscar, and 35% positive it's someone that looks a lot like oscar
ynleclerc
tagged oscarpiastri
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ynleclerc someone exposed us on twitter, so i had to expose us on instagram 😮💨
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oscarpiastri love you <3
oscarpiastri i will love you even when a ferrari has run me over, of course.
arthur_leclerc is this your way of telling me i was right, without texting me back?
charles_leclerc this must be a joke, non?
pascale.leclerc.355 so very excited to finally be able to invite the both of you for dinner. trés belle 🤍
charles_leclerc maman, you knew?
ynleclerc oscar and i will see you for sunday dinner, maman! <3
tresbelleleclercspam
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ynleclerc live feed of oscar running away from charles in the paddock when he said he 'just wanted to talk, mate'
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charles_leclerc i truly just wanted to talk about the race
charles_leclerc i did not have a speech planned, non
arthur_leclerc i did have a speech planned
lorenzotl i just wanted to welcome him to the family, as a good big brother should
oscarpiastri my apple watch warned me of an overactive heart rate 5 times today. why did you do this to me. why couldn't you have three sisters???
ynleclerc so very sorry, in our next life i'll try to make sure you only have to worry about sisters and not three overprotective brothers
oscarpiastri as long as i get to spend every lifetime with you <3
i actually got a request for something like this ages ago, and finally got around to finishing it. i so hope you all loved it as much as i loved writing it. thank you for all the support!!
i'm not currently taking requests, but if anyone has lil suggestions or prompts please feel free to send them.
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just spent two hours changing my desktop theme..... hello
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I'd Fight The Devil
Alastor x fem! reader
Background: (Y/N) is the elder Morningstar, and wants to fix her relationship with her dad. But her dad hates her boyfriend.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 - Finale
Allusions to sex, actual sex, angel being angel, and cannibalism
_____
Angel spit out his drink, "You're with Alastor?!"
"Yeah, thoughts?"
"And prayers, girl," Angel could never imagine a sweet girl like (Y/N) getting it on with the Radio Demon himself.
But everyone has their kinks, he supposed.
Alastor manifested behind her, and she immediately felt his presence. Pressing herself against him, he leaned into her warmth and kept his arms around her shoulders.
"How was your day, mon amour?"
"It'll be even better," She trailed off, turning around to face him, "when we meet my dad for dinner."
Silence.
And not even radio silence.
"Not to be rash, but I'm sure your father would sooner see my head on a pike than on my body," Alastor adored the fact that she was mending their bond, even more so when Lucifer makes the effort.
But announcing their relationship to him?
He could see it ending in flames.
"I know you two don't get along, but I thought a nice dinner might smooth things over."
"And if he disapproves of us?" He lifted her head upwards with his finger, bemused as to what her answer may be.
"Then he'll have to get used to it," (Y/N) replied, sending a shiver of excitement up his spine.
Only a feeling that the she-devil he was utterly obsessed with could provide.
"Ugh, can you guys go fuck somewhere else?" Angel said, "or at all? I can't imagine going a lifetime without dick."
Alastors eye twitch, "now that's our business, isn't it?"
"Okay, okay," Charlie spoke up, "you guys go get ready."
Charlie couldn't help but notice the change in Alastor. It had only been a few months, but being in her sisters presence alone has made him kind. Sure, the both of them would skin someone alive over an insult, but Alastor would rip out his own eyes if (Y/N) asked.
A perfect match.
(Y/N) dawned a black dress with a pearl necklace that Alastor bought for her. Well, she thinks he bought it but he actually stole it off of a fresh kill.
How sweet.
"Pumpkin! Oh look at you! You're as radiant as ever!" Lucifer fawned over his daughter as they made it to the restaurant, making it a point to ignore the red demon behind her.
"Catching strays?" Lucifer gestured to him.
"Lovely to see you again," Alastor retorted.
"Dad, why don't we go inside? And Alastor will be joining us," now, Lucifer didn't forget what he said. He recognized that the fearsome deer demon had the intention of claiming Princess (Y/N) as his own, but did his daughter return such feelings?
Honestly, Lucifer feared that.
Not it being Alastor persay, but his little girls being hurt.
He knew how awful it felt to go through the divorce with Lilith, and then her disappearance.
He didn't ever want his daughters to feel that way.
"So, Alastor, what do you do again?"
"I have a radio broadcast. Your daughter has actually helped me repair the studio after the attack," He laid his land on hers.
And Lucifer picked up Alastors hand.
And placed it away from hers.
"Uh, dad-"
"Look, if you two are fucking, don't tell me."
"Dad!" Her face burned red, "we aren't-that's not. . .I love Alastor, and he loves me. I want you to accept us both."
"Love? Whoa, whoa, whoa! Pumpkin, I don't think-"
"I'm not a little kid," She interrupted, "I'm a grown woman, and I'm able to make my own decisions. I want to be with Alastor because I love him. You may not think I know what love is, but I know it's what I feel with Alastor."
That's when he saw it.
That look.
Whilst (Y/N) was defending herself, defending their love, Alastor looked at her. Only her. And it was like he was staring at the nebula itself, seeing all its beauty in the Heir of Hell. His smile faltered, closing his mouth, and his eyes softened.
It's the same look that he used to give Lilith.
"If I ever hear that you've made her cry, or even laid a single hand upon her," Lucifer stared him down, "I'll make you disappear."
"A man true to his word. Looks like we have something in common," Alastor agreed, his hand back on hers. She gave him a smile, one that reminded him of Lilith.
The rest of dinner went off without any incidents. The small jab here and there, but no one died, and no one was stabbed. Lucifer learned more about his daughters business and how she lit up talking about it.
"You hardly ate, Alastor. Is something wrong?" (Y/N) asked when her father went to the restroom.
"Oh no, my dear. Just hungry for something else, is all," His eyes raked up her form, earning a cough from the she-devil.
Honestly, she didn't know where he was on his spectrum. She was fine never even being intimate, so long as he was happy, but this spark in his eyes lit a fire within her.
"O-oh. . .are you sure?" Believe it or not, (Y/N) had only had sex twice and both times she'd call it lackluster.
"I don't want you to force yourself if you don't want to," oh how innocent she was. Honestly, Alastor assumed he was aroace before he met the she-devil. Her ferocity - her chaos in fights, her genuine kindness, and her soul - itself brought out that spark.
There are moments where the carnal desire needs to be satisfied.
"Mon cher, I'd never ask if I didn't mean it."
That look, it made her softly gasp.
"Alast-"
"Ew."
Right.
Lucifer.
He showed up from his restroom break and found the pair giving eachother "fuck me" eyes.
"Could I eat my dinner without you groping my child?" Lucifer hissed, despite Alastor only touching her hand.
He blinked, thinking how he's never even groped a woman.
"Maybe."
Sick bastard.
_ _ _ ☆ _ _ _
"Fuck! Alastor!"
(Y/N) had never cum before, so Alastor being her first to ever do so and smiling away at her quivering legs made it so much better.
"Oh fuck. . ." She moaned weakly, his tongue slithering in and out of her to lick up every last drop.
"Al. . ." She was breathless, staring at his strained member. Reaching up to unzip his pants, he tutted as he grabbed her wrist.
"Al?"
"It's about you. Don't worry about me, amour," He purred, kissing the bite marks on her thighs.
"But you-"
Before she could detest further, wishing to satisfy him, the door opened.
"Oh my God, they were right! Alastor, you sly dog," Angel Dust was at the door, and Alastor quickly covered his beloveds' body with the covers before his horns started to grow and his back stretched.
"I'm going to kill you."
"Not before you make love to me, you're not," still in his demonic form, (Y/N) blew a gust of wind to slam the door shut.
Her body displayed on the bed, Alastor agreed.
"And stay in that form. It suits you."
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auck ever since this blog was riddled w weird negativity i havent been caught up within the fandom or the manga so rereading some and tryna catch up and . aughhhh luffy really went silly mode and fucked shit up ....
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