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bby-deerling · 1 month

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genie in a bottle (law x reader nsfw)

law uses your clit as a fidget toy :^)

18+, nsfw, mdni, wc: 1.8k masterlist || commissions

cw: fem!reader, semi-public stuff, mild body horror (maybe ? law has your clit in his pocket), edging, oral (reader receiving), fingering, fingers in mouth, overstimulation, dirty talk, teasing, established relationship

tagging: @willowbelle @eelnoise @risenwrites @atanukileaf @cloudzoro @kaizokuniichan @sanjisprincesswifey @mirillua

Trafalgar Law is a lot of things—a skilled doctor, a gifted swordsman, and a man with innate leadership skills coursing through his veins. Sharp as a whip and possessing a unique charm, he is captivating enough to swallow someone whole if they aren’t careful.

He’s also an amazing multi-tasker.

As he nonchalantly moves through the agenda items during the bi-weekly crew meeting, Law’s right hand stays buried in the pocket of his jacket. The detail goes unnoticed by most of the crew; Law is often restless and prone to fidgeting, and usually has something in his pocket to mess with. If it was the usual stress ball, rock, or other small item that he was rolling his finger across rhythmically, you wouldn’t have paid it much mind, but your captain is playing with something different today.

It was beyond insane of you to let him temporarily take the most sensitive piece of you to mess around with in his pocket for a little while, but the way his eyes darkened coupled with the devious smirk he gave you when suggesting the idea had turned you into putty in his hands.

And now you were so limp and malleable, wholly at his mercy as he tries to get you to crack the stone-cold expression on your face while he drones on about kitchen cleaning duties for next week. It wasn’t like you weren’t turned on—you were grateful the lining of your boiler suit masked the way your arousal had already soaked your panties and was dripping down your inner thighs—but you were determined to keep yourself together until the meeting is over and you can jump his bones behind closed doors.

A pair of eyes locked onto you turns you hyper-aware of everyone in the room, making your face flush even warmer. To your right, Ikkaku shoots you a look of concern and leans over. “You alright? You look like you’re coming down with something.” she whispers in your ear. Biting your cheek, your mind scrambles to put something together. Not trusting your ability to get any words out without letting a squeak or a moan slip from your tongue, you simply nod in response, though it might have been just easier to lie—a small fever would have been the perfect excuse for your bright red cheeks and restless shivers and twitches—but the way Law’s thumb traces patterns into your needy bud turns your brain into a pile of mush.

Turning your focus towards the front of the room, your eyes glaze over as you watch Law, and his words turn into babble as all you can fixate on is the deep tone of his voice sending echoes and vibrations up through the floor. A painful eternity passes by before Law dismisses the crew; most of your crewmates hop up to go to their posts, but a few hang back to ask their captain some questions. You stay firmly fixed in your seat, face still red but expression blank as you wait for him to finish up, hoping he’ll take your diligent patience into account and grant you some form of mercy.

Finally, after a conversation with Shachi that seemingly lasts eons, Law sits down beside you, taking Ikkaku’s place and places his free hand on your shoulder. “Are you feeling okay? I noticed you look a bit off.” he asks innocently, as if he wasn’t still playing with you—as if he hadn’t purposely worn his sweatpants that were a size too big today instead of his skinny jeans in an attempt to mask the way his cock throbs in his boxers as he toys with you.

“I think I’m coming down with something.” you mumble softly, all of your focus going towards keeping an even and unassuming tone—a few of your crewmates were still in the room, after all—though Law makes it hard as he starts tracing the alphabet into your clit with his thumb, seemingly just to mess with you and keep you right on the edge of falling apart.

His face doesn’t betray much as he tries to maintain professionalism and responds with, “Come with me, then. I’ll check you out.” but something in the way he says it shatters the façade—maybe it’s the smugness, or the smirk creeping across his face, but it makes you twitch with need as you follow him, hot on his heels and eager for release. However, as you seemingly take a loop around the entire Polar Tang and holding back your twitches and noises becomes increasingly more difficult, you realize that Law is going to draw this out as long as he possibly can; taking matters into your own hands once the two of you are in a secluded part of the submarine, you start making demands.

“Give it back.” you hiss, standing up on your tiptoes to ensure your demand was heard by his ears alone.

Law scoffs and continues walking down the cramped hallway, not even sparing you a glance; however, a broad grin spreads across his face at your frustration, making you even more heated and indignant. “No way. This is too much fun.” he replies with a smirk, continuing to rub circles into your clit that make your spine shiver.

“Then at least let me cum—” you snap back, dripping and desperate for release to the point of being irritable. Law’s footsteps halt as he glances in both directions to ensure the two of you are alone before placing a hand near your head along the wall and leaning in close.

“Right here? In the middle of the hallway? That’s what you want?” he teases, pressing his thumb harder against your bud; the wave of pleasure rolling through your body makes you weak in the knees and plants your feet firmly to the ground as you still stubbornly stifle the moans clawing their way up your throat. Taking a sharp inhale, you close your eyes and compose yourself before shaking your head. “That’s what I thought.” Law murmurs, his lips so close that they ghost along the sensitive skin of yours.

“Take me to your room, please—” you whisper, finally letting your hard, determined exterior fall to pieces, allowing the overwhelming need that you’re drowning in to pour out through your voice.

Clicking his tongue, Law seemingly isn’t satisfied as the corner of his lips quirk upward. “Try again.” he replies smugly, letting his free hand trail down your side and rest on your hip.

“Take me to your room, please, Captain.” you say, whimpering softly at his touch as you correct yourself, meeting his playful gaze with pleading eyes blown out with lust.

“Good girl.” he purrs, bathing the two of you in a bright blue light as he swaps you for two flecks of dust on his sheets. Another mumble and flick of his wrist puts everything back where it’s supposed to be, but somehow, he hasn’t had his fill of teasing you yet. Slipping off your boiler suit and laying you down on your side, his limbs and tongue entangle with yours as he greedily pulls you as close to him as possible.

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” he murmurs against your lips as his inked hand drifts between your legs, pushing your panties aside and running them along your slit. Dipping them inside, he curls them against your sweet spot until he has you mewling for him, only to pull them out and tap your bottom lip with his slick-covered fingers.

“Taste it for me.” he orders, and you obediently open your mouth to suck on his digits, swirling your tongue around them and moaning softly as you taste yourself. “Suck them clean for me.” he mumbles, groaning slightly as you run your tongue along his fingers one last time before he pops them out of your mouth, wiping the saliva off onto the outside of your thigh.

Smirking with satisfaction, he nudges you onto your back and slips down your torso, letting out a pleased sigh when you instinctively spread your legs for him. Holding them apart with his tattooed hands, he drags his tongue along the side of your thighs, coating it in your essence as he licks upward towards your core. Swirling his tongue along your entrance, he smirks as you twitch with need against him. “You want me to let you cum?” he asks teasingly, letting one of his hands trail upward to play with your sensitive clit.

“Please, Law, I need it so bad…” you whimper, letting out a gasp as he tongue slips inside of you, thrusting in and out and flicking along your walls. The fullness turns your vision red hot as the coil in your core nearly snaps; your hips snap towards his thumb to get just a little more friction on your bud, until all of a sudden, he pulls away.

“Law!” you exclaim in frustration as you let out a deep sigh and dig your nails into the palm of your hand. He only smirks and lets out an exhale of amusement in response as he sheds his boxers and sits beside you, grabbing you by the waist and nudging you to get up and straddle him. Complying, you sink down onto his cock, and both of you throw your heads back as the sensation sends tingles down your spines; however, any control you have in this position is short-lived as his hands grip the plush skin of your hips possessively, fucking into you as he grinds you against him.

“I’m gonna make you cum so hard you won’t be able to see straight.” he mumbles in your ear as he feels you start to twitch intermittently around him; you try to let him know that you’re close, but your mind is so overheated that the words all spill out as babbles and whimpers. There was nothing left in your mind except the white-hot pleasure building in your core, and a few more drags against him is all it takes to let it completely flood through you, blinding your senses and making your back arch so hard a few vertebrae crack back into place.

“That’s it, cum for me.” he mumbles as he continues to rub your sensitive bud against him, drawing out your wave of pleasure as much as he can. Twitching in his grasp, and letting out soft moans, you slowly catch your breath and fall limp against his chest, burying your face into his neck and letting out a few tiny whimpers. “Such a good girl for me.” he praises as he rubs your back and wraps his arms around you, planting soft kisses along your collarbone.

But, through it all, the slow pace of his thrusts inside of you never falters, and he can’t help but pick up the pace as you emerge from the haze clouding your mind and spring to life once more, grazing your teeth along his neck as you leave kisses along the sensitive column of skin.

“I’m not done with you yet—not even close.” he whispers in your ear, a needy rasp coating his words with lust. Trafalgar Law is many things—but above all, he’s beyond thorough, in everything that he does.

Especially you.

#one piece x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #trafalgar law x you #law x you #law x y/n #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgar law fanfiction #law fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece smut #trafalgar law smut

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tiktaalic · 10 months

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I think it’s funny that . destiel from eons ago (2012) used to be like omg it would be soooo angsty if destiel got together and dean kept getting older while cas stayed the same age … when. Season 15 of supernatural said jensne ackles makes us wait to start filming so he can go get his weekly Botox so that he can look a young hot fresh 40 but 40 who can afford Botox while misha collins gets beat to death with hammers by our makeup departmnet

#etxt #spnwatch #destiel #I was t joking. I intend to pump those year in review numbers

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spectral-snippets-and-drabbles · 1 year

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Lazarus Pact AU

In the last moments of his reign, King of the Inifinite Realms attacked the victor and fled to the mortal plane to prevent the Tyrant known as Pariah Dark from absorbing his core and stealing his powers for himself. Those who couldn't challenge the new king's rule and wanted nothing to do with the barbaric monarch followed soon after.

Notably, the seemingly countless elite warriors who were revered for their expertise at ectoplasmic manipulation who joined the Former King throughout his eons-long time as ruler of the Realms.

However, in an environment with very little to no ambient ectoplasm, they had to use their energy reserves sparingly until they found a new home. The journey nearly resulted in them nearly fading from existence in the void of space, but they had found salvation in the form of beings called 'Guardians' who held similar beliefs to the monarch himself.

So, a pact was made, and conditions had to be met. The most important were the following:

~•~ ~•~ ~•~

1) The Warriors of the Infinite Realms would house themselves in artifacts that were virtually indestructible to any form of harm to keep them safe.

The Guardians would create power rings to keep them safe.

2) Ectoplasm was essential for beings of the Realms. Without it is to perish, so an energy would be needed to replenish their cores.

The Guardians got to work and made ectoplasmic generators that could revitalize a warrior's energy within a matter of seconds to carry on in their duties. These devices were to be called Lanterns.

3) A stealth team would be made to keep an eye on the happenings within the Inifinite Realms, specifically the young king Dark, and reported to the former king.

The Guardians established an elite team of Green Lanterns composed of their best members. These mission reports would be classified and kept secret from the Corps at large for the former king's eyes only.

4) Should Pariah Dark lose his crown, they would be informed by the former king. Should the new monarch be a just soul, the Green Lanterns are to protect this being with their lives and come to his aid in his hour of need.

Failure to do so will result in the forced disbanding of the Green Lanterns Corps via the destruction of the his own core. The Guardians, despite their scientific prowess and failsafes, could not hope to stop this event if it came to pass.

Upon hearing this, the Guardians would anxiously make their weekly scouting parties turn daily and scour the Realms for trouble.

5) From that day onward, the former king would no longer be addressed with his old title. A new one would be made.

The Guardians would address the entity as Ion, the Being of Willpower.

~•~ ~•~ ~•~

When Ion booms across all power rings that the new king is in need of immediate assistance, the Guardians send every available Lantern to intercept the threat.

The question being...who is it?

#dc x dp #justice league #danny phantom #I like to imagine that danny is attacked by the GIW and abducted only for the space fbi to knock there doors down #or the Justice League detaining him as he's an unknown yet powerful being #but then the watchtower is swarmed by the Green Lanterns demanding they release the king of the inifinite realms #Ion is panicking because 'that is a whole ass infant' in terms of total ghost and mortal time existing #Danny is like 'what the FUCK do you mean I have the space police as guards!?'#dp x dc

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daily-haunted-tv · 10 months

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do you also run the daily eevee art blog?

If you mean @weekly-eons then yes! I also run @dailytricksterfox Which is the Zorua variant lol What can I say, I love drawing my fave Pokemons I also like to change things up so if I am not posting here, big chance I am posting on one of the other blogs

#thanks for asking!#mod talks #Pokemon #pkmnart #daily haunted tv #Ray Rotom #Hue Eevee #Tone Zorua #Print Hisui Zorua #Rotom #Eevee #Zorua #Hisui Zorua #They all my lil guys

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mizulekitten · 5 months

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I've recently started to learn how to crochet! As with all my creative endeavors, it seems, the first test was to make an Eeveelution! Well, after making an Eevee, I wanted to try something new... An Eeveelution fusion! For anyone looking for cute art and cuter fusions, I can't recommend @weekly-eons enough. This lil guy is based off their Sylveon/Umbreon fushion!

The body is based off ETM Studio's Crochet Mini Cat Loaf. The ears and tail are based off Amigu World's Amigurumi Eevee: Parts 1 and 3.

#ignore the lack of eyes I haven't been able to find buttons literally anywhere #its rly weird #this lil guy isnt perfect but oh boy did it teach me about switching colors to make patterns #I redid the ears 5 times xDD #eeveelutions #pokemon #crochet #Mizu's Art

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ginjones · 1 year

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“What did Apollo dream of?” Asks Hob, his voice a questing note which brushes the curve of Dream’s ear. He lies in naked warmth across the corded thew of his back, breathing life into marble. Breathing for them both. They had stayed this way for hours. Swathed together in the casual rituals of Sunday. An indulgent afternoon spent riding the blissful peaks of orgasm. Fragments of time dissolving into the peony blush of an August sunset.

Muscles tense beneath him and for a moment, Hob wants to swallow his words. The question has come too early. He should have waited. Let another century pass in quiet restraint for answers to fall unbidden. Then Dream moves under him with tectonic force, and every muscle rolls to bear his weight with ease. Impassive eyes stare blankly up.

“Music,” Dream states simply and then, after a pause “how the notes of a Lyre might soar and scatter their seed in the wheat fields of Crete. He dreamed the way God’s dream. With intent.”

“Oh.” Hob replies, “…alright.” He is not sure how to take this or for what answer he had hoped.

When Dream had returned to him in the bright glory of a June afternoon, had called him friend and sat in alignment on the seat of a twin chair, he had felt himself exalted. Then came the gifts of a name, several in fact, and the first offering of answers. That he had lain at the base of a glass sphere for 133 years. That he had missed the sound of birds taking flight. That blood will turn a dark sepia if left to stain a cold stone floor. Hob had felt the brush of fingers to his palm then. He had felt each subtle contact point of hands, of wrists, of legs. He had said nothing. Dream, he had told him, is in the process of rebuilding.

Hob gives himself freely to this process. By July the casual touches had transformed into weekly rituals where, in the summer heat of his flat upstairs, they had venerated each other in the arching of bodies, in the twisting of limbs. In warmth. In wetness. In light.

Dream looks up at him now, the light of ancient stars reflecting in his eyes. He smiles faintly. “I have had many lovers, Hob”. And he knows this. He knows. But he wants to know more. He wants to unwind the tangled eons of his being and find the subtle frays of conquest. To trace the heart line of his relations with the gods of another age. To wonder perhaps, what they felt like to this impossible creature who, after making himself a willing body, became the vessel for their dreams.

And his traitorous mind will not stop its reckless imaginings. Of perfect bodies mounting each other with graceful fluidity. Rutting for hours, decadent in the gleam of their own transcendent splendour. He regards his own body then and finds it lacking. And yet, to trace the distant lands of Dream’s past is to know him, fondly, completely. He holds the envious blade to his heart and smiles.

“I want to show you something,” Hob says, “Wait here.”

He rises from the alter of the bed to gather the offerings of books. Stories told by others to share. Hutton’s Queens of the Wild, a battered copy of Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classiciae he had bought second-hand in Cambridge. Human tales to dying gods who wait, in the tomb of the earth, for idolatrous rebirth. He places them down kindly and wraps himself again in the comfort of the bed.

Seraphic black eyes glance over the pages for the briefest of seconds before one is turned, then another and Hob realises this is how Dream processes information. So that entire books could be read in minutes; knowledge subsumed, taken inwards, and swallowed whole. Each story catalogued and reformed as a star in the nightscape consciousness of the collective unconscious.

“And what about Brigid?” Hob asks again, brushing a finger over the image of a woodcut in Hutton’s book. Dream’s body curves towards him; the pale crescent of a waning moon.

“Protection to those who would adorn her with the pearls of their words. Love given at a price. She was triple natured and dreamt of sacraments in milk and blood.”

He imagines the proud swell of her breasts and the lustrous warmth of her sex. How Dream might have laid her down among the richness of the living earth, her legs parting in mimicry of the unfurling of shivering leaves. How he might have bent to kiss the curve of her fruiting form and then, with the surge of yellow iris and bloodied poppies their consummation would sing in the arrival of spring.

Dream watches him closely with the subtle glimpse of a frown. His features correct themselves back to unspoilt marble. He glances back at the book.

Hours pass, or maybe days, and Dream is feeding him grapes. He watches with fascination at the ripe burst between his teeth. He places one perfect finger to the corner of his mouth and Hob takes him in. They make love again. Dream edging inside gently; a curtesy that belies the sheer strength of him. His shoulders are the roll of Atlantic waters, his corded muscles the terrain of mountains. Every quiet command to sit or bend down or open for me is the distant promise of a rainstorm. A body made for the pleasure of the divine. In the drop after the rising heat of release, he is reformed in bliss and made anew.

“And Saturn?” He asks, once more.

It is midnight now. Time hangs suspended from one day till the next. His throat is the frayed edge of a salt slicked rope. Language has come back to him slowly and with it, the recollection that he wants to learn more. He has been placed under soft, dark sheets and held in the willowy bough of cool arms. His world has shrunk to hold nothing but the senses; the smell of his own body, juniper and vetiver. The glow of orange lamplight casting shadows on the wall. The delicate ache of muscles. The sound of distant voices rises thorough the stone of buildings, the wood of floorboard.

Dream is under the blankets with him too. He opens his eyes; sapphire bright.

“Unwavering devotion despite the hardships of capricious seasons. To be fed the rich loam of toil. Saturnalia was a decedent celebration, but his worshippers did not sleep. They turned away from my realm to follow the ghost of his words.”

“And you’re okay with me not being…Like; you don’t mind if I’m not someone one who could…” Be a god for you, He thinks. Be better than I am. Be good enough to keep you.

Dream graces him with the rarity of a true smile and moves to close the distance. He is pulled to rest his head in the cove of a moonlit scapula. He is held there in silence; Dream placing a hand to the soft warmth of his stomach then tracing the thick trail of chestnut hair that leads down towards his pubis. He nuzzles into the crook of his neck and Hob can feel the subtle sensation of air. Dream is breathing him in. In this sanctuary they have created for themselves he is reminded of several moments. Where Dream, bathed in morning light, has watched him butter bread, or rinse dishes, or change tracks on a playlist to find a favourite song. He has watched him water plants, watched him eat. Has asked, several times in fact, to place a hand to the bob of his throat when he swallows. Sometimes, when he has woken from the swell of sleep, he finds Dream’s attentions on the aura- space around him. His eyes lit from the inside, tracing the phantom movements of some unseen, imperceptible thing. Half asleep still, he has seen Dream move a hand through the gloaming air in a dextrous swirl of intent. Capturing something, examining it, then looking back at him. You dream such wonderful things.

And here, resting together, Dream’s voice brushes the curve of his ear.

“You are more than a god, Hob. You are human.”

@softest-punk

#dreamling fic #dreamling #dream x hob #dream of the endless #hob galding #hobert hob gadling #the sandman fic #the sandman #greek gods #pagan deities #what it means to be human

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dailytricksterfox · 10 months

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🌙 Daily Zorua blog, Which is more likely to post Weekly🌙 Art is okey to use as icons, banners and personal use with credit! Do NOT repost my art to other sites! Art style and quality will change per drawing as I just want to have fun with it drawing these silly lil mons 🌙 Mod blog 🌙 Asks 🌙 Rotom Blog 🌙 Eon Blog 🌙 Kofi 🌙

#Probally need a Pinned post here too #mod talks

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weekly-eons · 1 month

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Leafeon as a fairy/grass type?

Fairy fox!

#thanks for asking!#pokemon #pkmnart #weekly eons #leafeon

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giggly-squiggily · 1 month

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Weekly Basis (Fire Force)

Heyo! :D I missed my boys, and now here they are kjejakrkjearjkeaj I was fangirling with Nym (@intheticklecloset) recently over these two and Fire Force as a whole- one thing led to another and boom! This fic was born! I hope y'all like it! :D

Summary: Arthur and Shinra have weekly tickle fights. That's it- that's the fic

It was Arthur’s fault, naturally. He usually was the one to start these fights.

“Begone devil, or I’ll be forced to cut you down.” The blonde fumed, grabbing the hilt of his plasma blade. “I’m not one to bluff.”

“Gee, forget how to say ‘excuse me’?” Said devil rolled his eyes as he turned back to the counter, pouring cream into his coffee. He could move, but Shinra was feeling petty now. The self proclaimed knight king could wait. “Since you're standing there, hand me the sugar? I think Maki burned the pot.”

“Assisting a devil? And a stubborn one at that- you are truly bold to ask a Knight King for assistance after refusing my orders.” Arthur puffed up, the hand on his hilt tightening knuckle white. Still, he turned and grabbed the sugar off the nearby table.

Only to put it on the top of the fridge, just out of Shinra’s reach.

“Oh you son of a-” Shinra growled as he twisted towards him, reaching for the bowl. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Had you yielded, you’d have your sugar- hey, back you!!” Arthur pushed at his shoulders as Shinra leaned into him, using the blonde as leverage. “Begone I said!”

“Shut up, you started it!” Shinra stretched his arm long, fingers just grazing his target. Arthur scrunched his nose up at the smell. “Hold still!”

He did not. Instead, Arthur shoved his hand into his armpits for a better shove, curling his fingers.

The reaction was near instantaneous.

“GAH!” Shinra yelped, all but falling on his ass as he spasmed backwards. Arthur reached out to grab him, a hand to Shinra’s t-shirt the only thing preventing him from hitting his head on the way down. There was a brief moment of stunned silence, then…

“Geahhaha! Doohohohn’t you dahhahahre!” Shinra cried out when Arthur let him go, following him down with two hands in his armpits. “Stahhahahap, sthahhap yooohohohu jehheheerk!”

“Oo, what’s wrong? Is the devil himself ticklish?” The blonde cooed, grinning from ear to ear as Shinra thrashed and squealed beneath him, curling up like a cockroach. “If I’ve known this sooner, I’d have defeated you already! Now I shall take my chance!”

“Yehahahhaha rihhihiihght! Gehahahhaha, yohohohou’re a mohohohorohohohon iihihif yohohohu thihiihnk thihihs will kihihihll mehehehehe!” Shinra quickly reached out, grabbing onto Arthur’s knee and squeezing. Almost immediately, Arthur spasmed, falling back and giving Shinra the opening he needed to run.

“Dehevil! Get back here!” Arthur cried out, but Shinra was already far too gone, laughing the entire way.

~~~~~~~~~~

Arthur was exhausted.

It was the beginning of the week, and the dreaded paperwork day. Normally such an event wouldn’t come around until later, but due to a few incidents over the weekend with infernals, the torture was moved sooner. The ogre pri-Maki; his head still hurt- insisted it wasn’t all that bad; just a small pile for each of them.

For her or the lieutenant, this was breezy. For the Knight King himself; it felt like decades.

“Oi, sit up- that’s how you fall asleep.” Shinra elbowed him gently, snapping him out of his sleepy trance. “Speaking of, did you sleep at all last night? I swear I heard you snoring for the most of it.”

“A Knight King gets plenty of stamina. This however- it’s poison. It drains my life force.” Arthur looked down miserably at the half finished paper, feeling his eyes start to droop just after reading the first few lines. “I’ve sat here for eons. Any longer and I won’t be able to go on…”

“It’s been five minutes. Most of them you spent asleep.” Shinra elbowed him again when Arthur started to droop, shaking him awake once more. “Do you want some coffee? An energy drink- water?”

“Coffee would be nice..” Arthur nodded through a yawn, watching Shinra get up to make it. “Make haste, devil- before this poison spreads to my he-aaaaart..”

“Sure, sure, whatever.” Shinra rolled his eyes as Arthur yawned again, stretching his arms out overhead. “Don’t be asleep when I get back or else.”

Arthur knew Shinra likely meant it. He leaned into his hand as he stared at the paper, the world growing blurrier and blurrier until…

“Eheh!” Something sharp and ticklish jabbed his sides. His vision was blind- when did that happen? Oh no- the poison spread to his eyes! “I can’t see-”

The paper he was working on fluttered off his face. Arthur stared. Oh.

Then the tickles came back and he didn’t have any time to feel silly.

“I told you to stay awake, didn’t I?” Shinra growled in his ear as he squeezed the life out of Arthur’s sides, making the blonde squeal and squirm in his clutches. “I told you, and you fell asleep anyway! This is what you get!”

“Aehahhhahahha! Rehehahahaleahahase me, dehheheehevil! Hohohow dahahahare yohohohu- gehahahhahahahhah!” The Knight King tried and failed to grab his hands, still groggy with sleep as Shinra danced his fingers up and down his torso. “Begohohohohone, dehhehehevil-HEhhehehehehehhahah!”

“You know- you’re awfully bold to ask for coffee from me and then tell me to ‘begone’. Actually- didn’t you say the same thing yesterday too?” Shinra’s efforts were doubled as Arthur snorted like a pig, trying and failing to guard his stomach from the devil’s prodding fingers. “Well too bad for you! I’m here with an antidote for your ‘poison’, and I’m not going anywhere until it’s in full effect!”

The coffee had grown cold by the time they were done, but Arthur wasn’t sleepy anymore.

A win is a win?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Shut up! It’s not like you’ve never been stuck before!” Shinra argued at the Knight King- his stance weakened significantly as he swayed to and from. “Get me down!”

“Usually I’d leave devils like yourself like this, but as a Knight King, I suppose I have to help you.” A puff of laughter escaped the blonde’s lips, momentarily breaking his monologue. Seeing Shinra hanging upside down in a tree with his leg caught within the branches was quite the sight! Part of him wanted to take a few pictures.

Well…

“Oi, put your phone away and help me!” Shinra cried, swiping at Arthur as the other snapped a few shots, ducking and weaving out of the brunette’s reach. “Arthur!”

“Pfft, okay okay.” Tossing his phone aside, he reached up and grabbed Shinra by the waist- or ribs. He was never good at devil anatomy. “I’m gonna pull you down- try not to squirm.”

“Hurry u-eehheahhaha, stahhahap!” Shinra cried, shivering all over at the feeling of tickles. “Don’t tihihickle me!”

“I’m not trying too- damn, how’d you get so stuck?” Arthur gave another tug, squeezing Shinra more and more as he pulled. The entire time, the brunette was giggling and curling up, punching at the air and holding his face as he tried and failed to escape. “I told you to stop squirming!”

“Ahahahand I tohohold yoohohou tohoho stahhap tihihihckli-EHEHE!” Hands to his hips did him in. He arched so harshly he went backwards into Arthur, his leg deciding that was the time to come loose. The two boys went flailing into the dirt below- groaning in mutual pain as leaves scattered around them.

“Ugh..Devil, are you hurt?” Arthur asked, feeling Shinra shake his head. “Good. You can carry me back.”

“Oh shit- did you get hurt?” Shinra shot up, staring down at Arthur’s torso.

“No, but I’m far too tired. It’s the least you can do for knocking the air out of me.”

Shira swore, digging into the blonde’s sides and making him jump and cackle.

He did end up carrying Arthur home though.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ghgggggggggggghhh.

Shinra felt his eye twitch. He pressed them closed tighter, practically squinting.

Ghgggggg-hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhch.

He pulled the pillow tighter around his ears, trying to block out the sound.

Khggggggh-ghhhghgh-zhhhhhhhhhhgh

Now that last one sounded personal. Shinra twisted in his bed to glare down at the blonde sleeping away. Arthur wasn’t usually the type to snore; most nights the most you’d hear out of him is sleep talking through a dream-made acceptance speech. It was only when he got sick he snored.

And good lord he could snore!

“Oi, Knight King!” Shinra whispered sharply down at him, waving to get his attention. Usually he’d be more sympathetic for his roommate in times like this, but Arthur was on the very last leg of his cold. After what felt like decades listening to him snore, he finally had enough. “Wake up!”

“Zzh-heh?” Snorting awake, Arthur blinked blurrily up at him, wiping at his face with a tired hand. “What? The princess wishes me to marry her? I’m flattered, but I am far too committed to my duties.”

“No, dumbass! Wake up! You’re snoring like crazy!” Shinra growled, climbing down the latter of their bunk before heading to the bathroom. “Hang on, let me get the decongestants.”

“I don’t need your potions, Devil. I’m fine. Besides its-” Arthur looked at the clock, wincing. “Good lord- 1 am?- I can survive the night.”

“Well, I can’t.” Shinra came back with a glass of water and two pills, offering them to the blonde. “Take them. That’ll clear your up.”

Arthur stared. Then he scrunched up his nose in distaste, shaking his head. “Those are poison.”

“They’re medicine!”

“They taste horrible.”

“You sound like ass- take the freaking pills!” Too tired for patience, Shinra put down the water and climbed onto Arthur’s bed, grabbing at his sides as he brought the pills to his mouth. “Come on- come on, Knight King- the princess wants you to take them!”

“The priiihihncess is a dehehhevil! A dehihihvil in dihhihisguiihihse!” Arthur giggled out, one hand slapped over his mouth as the other shoved at Shinra, trying and failing to keep it down. “Stahhahap, it tihihihickles!”

“Take. The. Meds. Now!” Shinra growled, worming his fingers higher up as Arthur fell back into the bed, squeaking and giggling all the way. He was about to shove a hand into the blonde’s gut to really get him going when the door suddenly opened. “L-Lieutenant!”

Hinawa looked beyond exhausted, hair slightly messy and glasses missing. He also looked really, really pissed. He walked over, taking in the sight as his eyes landed on the pills in Shinra’s hand.

Without any words, he held out his hand for them. Shinra gave them without question. Hinawa turned to Arthur.

“These will make you into a grand knight king. Take them or you’ll die to the witch's poison.” He spoke so seriously even Shinra believed him. Arthur blanched before snatching the pills, gulping them down with every last drop of water.

“Good. Bed. Now.” Hinawa gave Shinra a look that sent chills up his spine. Quickly, the brunette did so, watching the older man leave. Before the door shut, he heard a soft “Goodnight boys.”

“Scary…” Shinra moaned. Below him, Arthur was fast asleep already.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s it! This charade has gone on LONG ENOUGH!” Shinra declared one afternoon- tossing down his coat and pointing at the blonde before him. “You and me- outside; right now!”

“Bring it on, Devil. I’ve been waiting for this day.” Arthur nodded, following the brunette out the door. Tamaki- who had been sitting by watching the entire fiasco- turned to the others with wide eyes.

“Should we stop them?” She asked- still new to Company 8’s dynamics.

“They’ll be fine. They do this at least once a week.” Maki reassured her, sorting through the remains of her paperwork. “If you want, why don’t you go out and see for yourself? I can take care of things here.”

Tamaki nodded, standing up and heading towards the door. With a small huff, she pushed it open to find…

“COME HERE!” Shinra yelled out, diving into Arthur’s middle as the blonde grabbed onto his shirt. Sparks flew and flames ignited as Shinra took flight, soaring him and Arthur through the air. Despite such a move, they only skimmed the rooftop, no different than a fly buzzing around a sugar cube.

“Think you’ve one? Ha! Take this!” Arthur wasn't deterred. The second they reached the center of the roof once more he brought the hilt of his sword into Shinra’s back, making him stumble to his feet. Tamaki sucked in a small hiss- that couldn’t have felt good.

Neither did the suplex Shinra performed on Arthur. With the blonde on his back, Shirna was quick to sit on his hips, one hand grabbing at his wrists while the other…

“AH! Shihihihihihihit!” Arthur yelped, arching when Shinra’s fingers attacked his stomach, sending waves of ticklishness up his core. “Dehehehhevil!”

“Whahaht?” Shinra mimicked, giggling like a goon as he carried on gently tickling the other. He was smiling that devilish grin of his- the kind that never failed to make Tamaki’s heart do little flutters whenever it came around. “Come on- fight back, Knight King? What is it- too much for you to handle?”

“Yohohoohu shuhuhuhut yoooohur fahahhahce! Gehahhaha, I’m juhuhust gehehhehetting stahahhahartred!” With a burst of strength, Arthur broke free from Shinra’s grip, attacking the other’s ribs with full force. The brunette yelped as he doubled over, giggling like a child almost immediately. “Tahhahahke thahahahaht!”

“Wow- and here I thought they’d spar more before getting into the tickles.” Maki’s amused tone make Tamaki jump out her skin, finding the older girl watching alongside her. “Last week it took them a few more attacks before they got going.”

“They’ve been on edge all week. This is their stress relief.” Hinawa added, making Maki nod in agreement.

“Latom.” Iris added, tenting hands. Tamaki copied her almost automatically.

“Ehehehehheheh! Dohoohohohn’t juhuhuhuuhst stahhahahnd thehehehere- hehehehelp meheheh!” Shinra called out to them, half fighting off Arthur’s attacks and half digging into the nearest soft spot he could find. “Geheheheht his neehheheck-EHEHEHEH!”

“Dohohohon’t goohohoho gihihihving awahhahy my sehehehecrets! Hihihis feheheht! Gehehhet his feheheheh-EHEEHEHK!” Arthur yelped just as loudly when Shinra dug into his highest ribs, the hands in Shinra’s armpits starting to weaken. “GEHEHEHT OOHOHOHUT!”

“DIHIHIIHIHITTOOHOHOHOHO!”

“They’ll work it out eventually.” Hinawa returned to his desk, Maki following not too long after. Iris stayed with Tamaki, giggling in her hand as she watched the boys play.

“They’re always like this- you don’t have to worry.” She reassured her, squeezing Tamaki’s hand. “Come- lets go get some tea before they realize we’re still here.”

Away they went, leaving the boys screaming and cackling on the rooftop in their tickle fight. Soon the noise died down, the boys returning to the office disheveled and giggly.

“Iihihll..I’ll win nehehext time!” Shinra called out, pointing at a sleepy Arthur as the blonde sank into his seat.

“Suhuhure, shuuhhure..dehhehevil.” Arthur rolled his eyes, head hitting the desk as he began to snore. Only Maki shaking him kept him from completely passing out.

“I didn’t know you were ticklish.” Tamaki mused as she passed him a mug, watching his ears go red. “Who knew the hero had such a weakness?”

There was a brief pause in his eyes, something she couldn’t quite read passing over them before he began to laugh, taking the mug with that trademark smile of his. “Well- all the best heroes have one. Sometimes two.”

“What’s the other one?” She asked automatically, tilting her head when he only smiled around his mug.

“That’s a secret”

Thanks for reading!

#Fire Force #shinra kusakabe #arthur boyle #company 8 #fluff #tickle #tickle fic #implied Tamashinra cause yes #Tamashin?#Tamashin #They are PRECIOUS!

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cynnabunnie · 2 months

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WHOAAAA, updated Venus reference!!

I've needed to give her a more relevant reference for eons, but HERE IT IS!!

I changed some colors and added more relevant info, which I'll add her other info to the bottom because it's important to me.

Venus is the all-hearing Oracle of the Multiverse!! Her antenna allow her to pick up on soundwaves from all over the Multiverse, coming through like a radio broadcasting signal!! She often dwells in the Omega Timeline, her "Hub" being left abandoned until recently.

Despite her humanoid appearance, Venus is far from it. She's a bug-like monster under the species name of "Snugglebug - Moth Variant - Type: Love", allowing her to control and manipulate the feelings of others.

Extra fun facts are below the cut!

Fun Facts!!

- Venus is a major plushie enthusiast

- Has collectable stuff, but I definitely think she collects buttons and bottlecaps

- Never overheats, even with all that fluff stuff on her

- Speaks loudly bc she can't hear well, ears also twitch a lot

- They're also very animated and emote a little bit

- She's only 4'10 bc rosy maples are only 2 inches big

- Favorite color is cyan

- Looks neon under blacklight, and is oddly attracted to blacklights

- Favorite flowers are calla lilies

- Likes glitter pens, so all her writing is glittery

- Calls everyone "babe" but platonically

- Nectar juice boxes are a main source of sustenance

- Complains about her ears hurting sometimes bc The Voices™️ can be a little too loud sometimes, so she needs to be moved to a quieter space that limits the sounds reaching her

- 0 spice tolerance

- Likes fireworks, but from a distance

- Prank wars with Fresh are a weekly occurrence

- Co-parents a tamagotchi with Fresh

- Makes weird pop culture references, and sometimes breaks the fourth wall (unbeknownst to those around her)

------

Rue belongs to @/rainyecho !!

Void belongs to @/demifinnyfib !!

Everyone else ofc belongs to their respective creators

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thegtlovingwritingnerd · 23 hours

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A Gift for the God

This scenario has been playing in my head for days now. May do another part

Your small village is located at the base of a mountain. On top of the mountain is the home of the god who protects your village. All he wants are weekly offerings to keep him content.

Your village works hard to appease the god, for they know of his wrath.

The god has the gift of the sun. Able to control fire at will.

You nervously fidget as you look at yourself in the mirror. It was your turn to make the trip up the mountain to give the village offerings to the god. You were told to make yourself look presentable and to make sure you never look the god in the eye.

You must never say anything that would offend him unless you wished to die.

You walked outside where the offerings were piled up in a cart for you to carry up the mountain. It's a half a day's journey to get to the top of the mountain, so you start your journey as the sun is just peaking over the horizon.

The journey up was a pleasant one. The air was clean and the path up to the mountain was smooth and clear to follow.

You couldn't help feel nervous as you reach the top of the mountain. What was the god like? Would he talk to you? What would you say to him? What if he didn't like the offerings? Would he be mad at you?

You get to the entrance of the home of the god.

It was bigger than you imagined...much bigger...

Your nerves only grow as you walk inside. You look around in awe. Everything was fit for a god. Paintings and furniture towered over you. You walk up to a pair of giant double-doors.

You knock three times, like you were instructed to do.

"Enter."

The doors open by themselves, shocking you. You straighten your back and keep your gaze lowered.

Not before taking a peek at the god in front of you.

He was larger than you thought. At least five times your height. Dark hair and eyes that seem to glow like the sun itself. He looked like a sculpture...

A very unamused sculpture. The god looked absolutely bored.

But in order to keep your head on your shoulders, you keep your thoughts to yourself. You take a deep breath and start walking towards him, just like you were told to do.

You feel his gaze on you as you approach him. Your stomach twists and jumps, but you keep your outward facade neutral.

"Here you are, my Lord," you say, your voice surprisingly unwavering, "The village prepared the best we could to please you."

The god sighed as he watched you approach. He was getting tired of seeing humans trembling beneath him. "What is your name, little one?"

You tell him your name, head bowed in reverence.

"Look up. I hate groveling."

You look up, surprised to see the god looking at you with such intensity that it makes your knees tremble. You couldn't help but stare back at him. It was hard not to look at him.

"You are new." he said, crossing his arms.

"Yes, my Lord. It is an honor to-"

"Please none of that. I've dealt with enough ass kissing to last me eons..."

You blink up in surprise. "O-oh...um...sorry...I-I'm just a bit nervous... I've never met a god before."

He smirks, "Is that so? Well, little one? What do you think? Do I meet your expectations?"

You nod once, still not imagining that this is happening. You are talking with a God. "Y-yes my Lord- I mean I didn't have any expecations--I didn't mean that! I uh.."

Booming laughter fills your ears. You are surprised when the god leans down to take a better look at you. "You are surely different."

Your eyes widen, "Th-thank you..."

He reaches down and wraps his hand around your body, lifting you up off the ground. "The village has surely prepared the best gifts for me today."

#gt #g/t #giant #tiny #idk #gianttiny #god #gt rp #y/n #short story #scene in my head

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logicaltips · 1 year

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SAGAU x Millennium Puzzle!Creator and "Imposter"

The soul of the True Creator rests within a mysterious vision, only emerging to protect the Imposter from harm as they wander Teyvat in the Creator's place.

"Keep an eye on them. If you truly believe that they are the Imposter, bring them and the holy vision to me. I trust your judgement, and justice will be dealt swiftly."

Those were Ningguang's orders, and so far, Yelan followed them to the letter. From where she sat in the dice game room, she heard the bell above the entrance door ring. Looking up, Yelan could see the Imposter walk innocently into Yanshang Teahouse. "This Imposter is as stupid as they are heretical", she thought. Their meek body posture and smile betrayed the rainbow-colored vision that radiated all forms of power into the air. The Creator's vision was a heavily guarded treasure, but it was now worn on a chain necklace by a lowly mortal, who wore the same face as the Granter of Wishes described by the ancient scriptures.

If she wasn't an acolyte, Yelan was sure that even she would be swayed by its aura and their face into believing the Imposter's lies, just like everyone else. After all, all true acolytes knew the true presence of the Creator like the back of their hand, and while the vision did well to emulate it, the addition of a submissive personality was it took to cast doubt in the minds of the Liyue Qixing ever since the Imposter entered the city.

Yelan commended the Imposter's efforts to become a copy of the Divine Creator; changing their face and stealing a holy artifact. But now, as her prey walked towards her, Yelan pushed those thoughts away and replaced them with utter fury.

"Yes, keep walking towards me, you filthy heretic. Walk into my web and as a reward, your head will soon fall off of our shoulders."

The Imposter walked into the room and sat down in front of her.

"Oh?" Yelan raised an eyebrow. "You seem a bit young to be walking around on your own, especially in a place like this. Does your weekly allowance even cover a single bet?"

The Imposter sheepishly rubbed the back of their head. "No, not exactly. I just came here... to play a game with you."

Yelan smiled. "I see. It seems like my reputation proceeds me. What game shall we play? Better yet... what shall we wager? No game is fun without some stakes, after all." Her eyes wandered to the holy vision that rested on the Imposter's chest.

Her opponent immediately clutched their vision and gave a nervous smile. "Sorry, but this is too valuable for me to wager. It's very important to me. Besides, you have one already, don't you?"

A forced laugh was the response. "I see, then how about we wager something different?" Yeah leaned over the table and gazed into the Imposter's eyes. They were so beautiful.

"How about... your life, sinner?"

With a yank of her arm, strings bound the Imposter's legs to the chair they sat on and slammed the door shut.

In one smooth motion, Yelan summoned her divine-gifted bow and notched an arrow, aimed directly at the Imposter's heart.

Their shocked look broke her heart.

"Yelan? Why-"

"Did you really think that your weak aura could be masked by the All-Divine's vision? You reek of it! You have corrupted the Creator's very presence and sullied their unreachable beauty with that false face!"

The Imposter's eyes began to grow wet with tears. "No!" They reasoned. "No, the Creator- they gave me that-!"

"You dare to mention the All-Divine with your tongue?!" Her bow shook with rage. "You commited such blasphemy and yet you still speak of the Creator as if you met them! All who follow the Weaver of Worlds know that they vanished from this realm eons ago! Your lies have dug you a deeper grave, heretic!"

With that final roar, Yelan returned her gaze once more to the rainbow vision.

"I know not of what you are, whether you are a creature from the Abyss, or a lowly mortal, but that vision does not belong to you!" She reached out her hand to reclaim the vision-

"Hands off, hag! Touch it and you die!"

Yelan immediately leaped back from the Imposter, who seemed to mature just from the new confident aura that enveloped their body.

It seemed so familiar.

"This vision isn't something you can just take, Yelan. Remember why I came here? Let's follow through on that. We'll play a game. I'll wager my freedom, my life, and this vision."

Yelan scoffed. "You are in no position to negotiate."

The Imposter crossed their arms in defiance. "I am. This will be a test of faith. Beat me, and you prove that your worship of the All-Divine is faithful and true, and that I am the Imposter. After all, why would the one worthy of the omniscient, all powerful Creator's vision lose in something as... trivial as a game? But if you lose... You'll have to face a penalty game."

Yelan pondered the offer. Penalty game? What could that mean? After all, even if the Imposter wins, they're stuck in this room until she unravels her strings. If they try anything strange, her arrow will fly true, and she'll pry the vision from their cold body. If the Imposter lost... well, they just gave her a reason to believe that they aren't worthy of such a blessing.

The intelligence officer smirked. "Very well. I'll choose what game we play then. Can't be giving you an unfair advantage after all..."

The Imposter nodded. Yelan reached into the drawer of the table and retrieved some rigged dice and cards, and began to explain the rules...

After Yelan missed her daily report, Ningguang grew worried. The intelligence officer never missed a report, and the fact that she disappeared after trailing the Imposter was enough for Ningguang to send a search-and-rescue operation throughout Liyue.

Hours later, she received a written report from Keqing. Yelan was found curled up on the floor of the Yanshang Teahouse dice game room, muttering to herself as she pawed blindly at the air.

"Forgive me. Please. I didn't know. Forgive me. Please, let me out."

That was all she said, even long after she was removed from the premises. Ningguang only had her rage on her mind as she entered her office, prepared to seek the truth of the entity that did this to Yelan, until a sharp voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Nice office, Ningguang."

It was the Imposter, calmly sitting in from of her desk. The rainbow vision that sat on their chest was glowing menacingly.

"Let's play a game, shall we?"

#sagau #yelan #yugioh #imposter sagau #creator is like atem #imposter is like yugi #sorry yelan fans #she'll be ok though #season 0 #shadow game

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aurora-313 · 6 months

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I've been openly critical of Thousand Year Blood War since its weekly manga release way back in late 2010s. It was so immemorable that I'd legitimately forgotten it, and by extension Bleach, existed until the announcement in 2022.

The revelations presented require so much backreading and contradicts earlier established facts, it make it difficult to tolerate. Interpersonal reveals reflect incredibly poorly on many characters, demonstrating in some cases outright negligent tendencies in their duty of care towards others and themselves.

(Masaki, Isshin, you don't have to tell him everything but its not hard to teach your god-child basic safety and the supernatural equivalent of 'don't run in oncoming traffic'. The fact neither did of you did, makes you damned irresponsible parents imo. Almost like your powers were retconned into existence without thinking through the rammifications, huh?).

The sum total of my issues are too numerous to mention but my biggest issue is theme of fate in Bleach; how it applies to Ichigo's desire for self-determination and how TYBW in particular gleefully pisses all over that.

While fate and destiny can be aspiring things, they are by definition traps. Confines. Set parameters that must be fulfilled. As a result two primary attitudes exist in response; one must rise to meet the occasion gloriously or defy it to forge one's own path (success varies).

Ichigo's opinion has always fallen into the latter category.

Ichigo wanted to destroy fate. Wanted to negate its unfairness. To remove its strangling shackles from his life and those he cares for. To quote:

If fate is a milestone, then we are the grist. There is nothing we can do. So I wish for strength. If I cannot protect them from the wheel, then give me a strong blade, and enough strength... to shatter fate.

In essence this is how Ichigo wants express his agency and self-determination, by protecting others. He wants to defend the downtrodden from the unfairness ugliness of reality. An agency he gains through obtaining Shinigami power from Rukia.

Or so he believes.

Problem is, every arc and especially TYBW exposes that theme as a total lie.

Whenever Ichigo believes he's expressing agency to combat whatever ill fortunate awaits those he wishes to protect, he is in fact playing into the hands of others.

He believes he's making an active choice to defend and guard and protect, but in reality Ichigo has never had a choice in anything, merely the illusion of one. Worst of all Ichigo never realizes most of his choices are illusions.

With every subsequent arc, the sad truth is that Ichigo is enslaved to fate. Shackled to its designs since the dawn of reality. Enchained by the literal gods and devils on his shoulder. At one point, fate even turns Ichigo's own body against him as his Quincy blood forces him to slay the previous Soul King.

In his drive to break fate's confines, Ichigo becomes its ultimate poster boy and enforcer.

But in a sad yet classic prophetic twist; Ichigo believes he's actively fighting an unfair destiny.

A destiny written by the Soul King's Almighty eons ago.

In a word, the Almighty is omniscience. First held by the Soul King and later Yhwach.

Conceptually, omniscience and free will cannot co-exist. The world is self-determination or pre-destination. There's no middle ground.

This in mind; the Soul King knew precisely how he would die. He knew a Shiba scion would eventually gain the power to release him from his torment eons upon eons after his sealing under the compulsion of Yhwach's Quincy blood, then slay Yhwach to replace him.

In other words, Ichigo's desire for self-determination was the greatest lie of this story. His every action and reaction were predicted and cemented since the dawn of time. Taken to its logical extreme, Ichigo arguably had no free will at all (absolutely fitting because he reads like a damn automaton in the last arc). He's a pre-programmed organic robot blindly following the path set before him by his creators, there's no error codes (ie. questions or hesitations) because his programmers told him exactly the right command prompts to set him loose.

And almost as the ultimate spit in the face for Ichigo's futile wish for agency in his own fate? Yhwach curses him in the end. Cursed Ichigo with a prophesy that at the moment of his greatest happiness, Yhwach will return to crush it to dust.

Meaning Ichigo is now destined to carry that curse for the rest of his days, his days as a human, his days as a soul, possibly even after his soul death and winding up in hell.

By the avatar of fate's own command, Ichigo is never permitted to find true happiness again.

Which actually rather neatly explains why Ichigo seemingly retired from shinigami work after the war concluded. And a rather damning indication of his marriage to Orihime and his own son.

When is Ichigo at his happiest? When he's engaged with the spirit world. What's he done in the ten year timeskip? Cut himself off from the spirit world. When does Yhwach show up again? The first time Ichigo engages with the spirit world after ten long years.

All told, its a rather tragic tale, isn't it?

Then again, I suppose that could be Kubo's intention. The more Ichigo tries to fight fate, the more fate bitch slaps him and tells him 'get back in your lane.' And Ichigo, after years of being thoroughly defanged, bows his head and obeys.

If that's so, then I congratulate him on delivering such a tragic despair-filled message.

#everything after Soul Society's complete bullshit anyway #bleach #ichigo kurosaki #yhwach #soul king #fate #anti tybw #anti bleach ending

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