I'm Blair or Kogi depending on where you know me from. I post my transformative & occasionally original work here. Bleach has consumed my life since 2012 & most transformative work here is related to it. I write namely write fanfiction for my shinigami Karin AU & various World of Darkness AUs. I will occasionally draw.
Most of the content here covers horror & adjacent topics as well as adult content. Potentially upsetting content is disclosed on post &/or tagged appropriately as [topic] /
Carrd / Shinigami Karin AU / World of Darkness AUs & campaigns
Bottom: my character, Hawah, formerly Malkavian & reembraced as Baali. Her life & following unlife has mainly comprised of isolation. Neglected by her mother for being the product of a rape, abandoned by her father, ostracized by the community due to her autism, abandoned by her sire as a mistake embrace, & having never met the sire who reembraced her, Hawah is constantly lonely & fearing destruction with her every step should anyone discover her true nature. She's partnered with the BBEG, who aims to deconsecrate Mecca, in her resolve to end Islam.
Left: Sar-tuda, the demon associated with Hawah's Demon-Hounded flaw. They've got Hawah wrapped around their little finger. I don't think they mean her ill, but I do think they're manipulating her. I'm just not sure what for.
Right: Adad-shuma-usur, introduced by BBEG to Hawah, is her adoptive sire & a pretty old Baali. In game, we don't know much about him.
Top: Maketh, BBEG, saw her childer destroyed early in the creation of Islam, & seeks vengeance, starting with deconsecrating Mecca. Hawah worships her like a living god since she believes they share goals. Another player's sire had a vision about Hawah being surrounded by blood & crying. OOC, I'm sure Maketh with betray Hawah, but IC, Hawah thinks some NPCs are going to end up killing her.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
My offering for HitsuKarin Week is HitsuKarin having a very bad not good day, specifically using the self-actualization, dreaming, occupational hazards, & AU / free day prompts.
Fandom: Third Shift Society
Characters: Ellie McGuinness, Ichabod
Words: 5.4k
Summary: You don't come out the same as you started after doing this job for so long. You see so much horror and malcontent that the good things you have is something you want to keep as is even if you're unhappy. Against my better judgement, I can't live like that. I love him too much.
Warnings: weird anatomy Ig
AO3: works/72648456
I think I've become jaded. I left home hoping I could make it on my own only to drop out of college and scrape by in retail. Even the job I have now regularly blows up in my face. It's only a matter of time before someone dies and I know that because I've seen how quickly life can change in the span of hours.
It's why I've kept my feelings for Ichabod to myself. It's why I'll never tell a soul.
I slip into the booth next to Maris. It's girls night at The Manor. This place is full of the mundane, but I know Maris to has a soft spot for goth nights here.
Her fingernails rap on the table while we nurse our drinks. "Darling... tell me, how're you holding up?" Her endearments only make my heart flutter a little.
"Same shit, different day," I shrug.
"Your line of work does that to people."
"What makes you say that?"
Her runs her finger over her glass like a worry stone. "Ichabod was cheerier once. A piece of him died when the reality of his circumstances settled in... I see the same in you."
"He appreciates what you do for him, Maris."
I pretend my feelings about their relationship aren't complicated. They're demonstrably amicable now and I don't want to ruin that when he and I aren't even dating.
"Of course he does, but that's not what I mean," Maris says.
I smile into my Cauldron Brew. The dry ice goes strong and makes my palm stiff from the chill. "It's bad, isn't it?"
"No." She slips in close and her arm wraps around my waist. "You're a smart girl. Your heart hasn't calcified, but you have changed." She pushes my hair over my ear. "Would you have had razor studs eighteen months ago?"
"I guess not." She's right about one thing: once, I was a prisoner of the capitalistic machine. These days, my prison is my own making, where I'm close enough to Ichabod to touch him and far enough that I can't bring myself to on the off chance I'm wrong the same way I was about college and my powers.
I lick my lips. "Do you think he'll ever love again?"
"Of course. He's whipped," she says.
Deep down, I know what she means, but I can't bring myself to take that leap. "I didn't realize he has a girlfriend."
"Now you're just being obtuse," Maris says. She lays my head on her shoulder. "I want you to be honest with me, Ellie." I nod, knowing the jig's up. Goodbye halcyon days. "Are you in love with Ichabod?"
"Some people aren't in a place to make things work," I tell her.
"That's not what I asked."
I meet her gaze. "I didn't want to ruin our friendship... or mine with Ichabod."
"I'm over him, Ellie, but he isn't over you." Maris brushes my hair out of my face. "He's deeply, irrevocably in love with you."
There are tears in my eyes because it's too good to be true, like a trap.
"That's not true."
"You know he's never liked himself, and how he's tricked himself into thinking no one could ever love him back. You know he'll die on whatever crumbs of affection he can muster before he'll ever beg you to love him back."
I do, but it's too good to be true.
"Maris... what if we fall apart? What if I lose everything again?" I ask. My chest is in a vice. "I... when my mom left, and my dad put me on anti psychotics for the ghosts I was seeing... it almost killed me on the inside." I shake my head. "I teetered right on the edge of killing myself. A-and I tell myself now... I won't do that. I'll survive like I survived putting out cigarettes on my legs. I'll survive like I survived dropping out of college--" tears rolls down my cheek, "I was facing eviction before we met and I considered killing myself and he saved me. He reached out his hand and I fixed everything Can I survive without him if I break everything again?"
She pets my hair while I cry. We must look right at home while the angst of Motionless in White plays.
"You know that's not what's going to happen, Ellie."
I shake my head. "I can see it just... dying. Spectacularly."
"Can you survive on the pittance of affection he gives you? Year after year? Can you get over him and find someone else to love?" Every word is like a dagger because I know she's right and I know I'm just scared. She holds my face. "Tell him you love him, Ellie. You know it's the only way this ends with either of you happy."
My eyes flutter shut. Tears collect in her palm. "If-- if he doesn't love me... if he leaves me, will you still be my friend."
Her lips press to my forehead. "Tell him to meet you at your place. You've trusted me before, Ellie. Trust me now."
---
I'm texting him again in the Lyft home. My hands won't stop shaking. I feel like throwing up.
You: Ik this outta teh blue but can u come to my place to talk it's not abt work but it's urgetn
Ichabod: On my way are you safe
You: Ya
I probably scared him. He's going to get to my place and find out I brought him out on our day off to ruin another good thing he's given me. I shut my eyes to ease my nerves until I'm dropped off at my complex, shedding my shoes and picking up stray clutter to occupy my nerves while I wait. There's still a leftover sock when I hear his knocking. I kick it under the couch and open the door.
There he is. Dapper, tall, ever-grinning. I don't know if it's infatuation or fear flooding my groin.
There's a beat of silence between us. He cups my cheek, touching his thumb just under my eye. "You look lovely," he says, "I'm glad you're safe."
Air escapes me like a leak. I step aside for him, and we take a seat on my couch. I've forgotten my mother tongue, so he takes my hand.
"Did you and Maris get into an argument? I know she can be temperamental, but you're like a sister to her, Ellie. She loves you."
"What? Oh. N-no, we didn't... we didn't fight." My mouth is dry.
He hums. "I haven't known social calls to be urgent."
"Don't be mad," I beg him. He slips onto the floor, kneeling, holding my hands.
"You saw them, didn't you? Oberon and Titania?" he says. I've never heard him vulnerable before. He's never taken me by the back of my neck and lifted me to my feet, saying, "Ellie, if they did anything to you--"
"Nothing like that," I promise. He's a whirlwind and it's kind of romantic. My hands lay on his chest, brows upturned, as I stare into his eye sockets. I can see the suspense eating at him and still I can't bring myself to tell him that I love him.
There's a beat of silence where he lays his hands on mine. I feel his ragged breathing. "You're leaving."
"Never."
I hate that I can't just tell him that I love him. I hate how my thoughts are a frenzied overlay trapped inside of me.
If I can't find the words, I'll show him.
I stand on his shoes, slipping my arms over his shoulders, lifting myself onto my toes, and press a kiss to his neck, long and slow. It'll tell him the roiling yearn I've kept locked up for months.
"Ah." It's not enlightenment but mutuality. The crack I make in his propriety makes me wet, especially as I feel him twitch in his slacks. His hands splay over nearly the entirety of my back and it's the best I've felt in ages.
"Ellie-- I can't ask you to live like this. We can't kiss. Our every outing will be marred by what I am," he croaks. It sounds like he's crying.
I'm bolder than I thought I was. "I loved you the day you gave me this life. The air is wrong if I'm not sharing it with you!"
He twists and throws me onto my bed, caging me around his arms, our hands twisted together. It makes me moan softly. "I'm a monster! I'm a miserable man and I'll make you just as miserable." His voice is cracking like webbing glass.
"You don't get to decide how miserable I'll be." I wrap my fist around his tie and tug it like a leash while misty-eyed. "The only thing you get to decide is if you love me too."
"You have no idea how badly I want you." He lays our heads together. "I envy the idea of whatever lovers you've taken in the past for the privilege they got of hearing your adulation and your beauty in their arms! It kills me every time you leave and I daydream of the pieces you take with you animate and have a face you can love!"
I touch his head to mine. "But I love yours! I love you!" Tears roll down my cheeks. "Don't ask me to leave." I leave his tie and lay my hand on his chest, over his heart. I know it doesn't beat as well I as I know now it's in there.
His hand wraps around mine. We breathe. "I couldn't live if you came to resent me. I'll never be able to kiss you. For all you know, this body won't see another sunrise."
I'd die beside him if that were the case.
My lips press to his neck. I push him onto his back and mount him, wood and all, and he runs his hands down my ribs.
"This isn't punishment, Ichabod. My time with you is the happiest I've been."
His head shakes while he shudders. "You surprise me every day, Ellie." His hands run up my hips. "You're beautiful, Ellie."
"That isn't a confession," I tell him.
He takes me by my thighs and stands. The suspension and his hands on my flesh make me wet. "Ellie McGuinness, I can't begin to tell you the depth and the intensity of my adoration for you."
There's no description of how I feel; like free fall or stage performance. Hugging his shoulders, I kiss his neck, humming as he twitches against my pussy.
"You shouldn't do that, Ellie, I'm barely holding on," he groans.
"What? Do you stop jacking off when I come pogoing through your mind, baby?"
The job's made me damn bold. I'm bouncing on my mattress and he's ripping his vest off, buttons popping, like an animal squirming out its cage. I don't expect him to take my underwear, hose, and shoes off all at the same time. It's got me chanting under my breath.
He doesn't need to finger fuck me. I'm fine and ready, but he plays me like a pianist and it's got my chest heaving in seconds.
Ichabod has no business being as good as he is, but he's ripped off his glove and runs his fingers through my bare lips. "Ichabod," I whine while I unbutton his shirt. My hips roll against his palm and he dips inside of me, curling only just beyond my entry. My back arches and I utter a long moan that echoes off my walls. "God, yes...."
"You're so beautiful. It killed for me ages to keep it from you." The affection he offers could be lovemaking on its own if he wasn't already scratching me perfectly.
I gnaw on my knuckle. "God, you know I'm ready, Ichabod! Just fuck me already," I whine.
His thumb presses on my clit and I yelp. "I want to see you come first."
"Haaa-- oh my god--" I press my palms into my eyes and turn. He's got every fiber of me spasming while he builds up rapture itself in my mortal body. This would be cruel if it wasn't so good.
"That's right, baby," he says. The pet name makes my brain turn static and my fingers curl in the covers. "I want to hear you."
"I can't--" my back arches and hips lurch as his thumb pad tweaks my clit. He pins me by my hip. "This is-- this is, god, waiting for you to fuck me or to make me cum-- I-I know you can do it and just--"
I scream as he finger fucks me. His shoulder pumps him in and out of my pussy and it makes my vision blur. There's a building feeling of delight but it's slow and unfulfilling. "God, Ichabod, please please please, please fuck--" my breath catches as pushes me up my bed, kneeling between my legs and panting. He's like a machine.
"You're such a sweet, good girl," he tells me. "I love you, sweet, beautiful, Ellie. Come for me, baby, and I'll give you everything you want."
It's not just the speed. It's his timber and adoration. It's the sight of his chest and feeling his hands in me the way that simply can't compare by simply holding him, that sends me over.
My moaning is stuttering, my chest sinking and filling as I'm flushed hot and pick. He fucks me through it and my arms fling themselves around his neck to hold him against me.
I've had orgasms before. This might be the best of them, even the times I've filled myself whole with novelty toys. I love him but this isn't the feeling of love. This is lovemaking. This might be the closest I come to crawling into Ichabod's skin and becoming one we ever achieve. I can't begin to encompass the feeling in mortal tongue in its entirety.
Even if it is the best orgasm I've had, I'm painfully aware of how hollow my pussy feels. I pant hard and chuckle through this. White hot. I wonder if I'm glowing.
It dies too soon. I swallow and try to catch my breath.
"I imagine it's safe to say you enjoyed yourself," he says. I rarely see him smug and it turns me on.
I say, "I haven't forgotten that you said you'd fuck me once I came."
"I did, didn't I?" Ichabod says, straightening. He's teasing me; runs his still-gloved hand down his belly and along the shaft of his erection pressing against his slacks. "I ached keeping myself from taking you the second you kissed me. The self-restraint I've had to exercise to keep from bending you over whatever is nearest on every job has been Herculean."
My familiarity with mythology is superficial and the wittiest response I can think of is, "I like the idea of Hades more, anyway."
He shudders and takes me by my cheek, fingers curling in my scalp. "Because I've abducted you into a of darkness? Leaving Demeter in anguish to negotiate your return to the land of the living?"
"I never had Demeter," I remind him, curling my legs around his hips and pushing him into me, casting his shadow over me. I smell my cunt on his fingers as he catches himself on his outstretched hand. "I was hoping the man that took me to the place I'm happy would find some happiness with me."
"You are positively divine," he assures while I pinch his zipper and push it glacially, knuckles dragging down his length. He's rolling himself into my hand and it sounds like he's breathing between his teeth. "You've got to be doing it on purpose."
"Not a fan of a cocktease? I was hoping you liked taking chase."
He laughs. "I'm not sure this is a chase as much as an endurance test."
My fingers find the button of his slacks and I reach inside. "I was hoping that this isn't the time or place to show me how disciplined and courteous you are," I say, reaching into his fly and pulling him out to stroke him. My fingers don't touch around his girth and it pleases me as much as his shuddering chuckle does.
"I'll give you what you want, Ellie." He takes my waist, kneeling on the bed, and throws me onto the pillows. He's toeing out of his shoes and shaking off his pants. He crawls over to me, shirt hanging open around his shoulders, dick exposed through his fly, socks secured by garters over his calves. I've never seen him anywhere close to this undressed and he's still more composed than I want him to be. I want him to be swearing up a storm. I want him to break.
He's crawling toward me when I kiss his chest. He pulls his other glove off as I migrate to his nipple, running my tongue over the surface. He cups the back of my head and breathes hard. "O-oh," he utters, and I hum inquisitively. He's sinking onto my mattress, holding me against his chest. "I didn't... I didn't realize this was... was an option."
I lift my head and smile. Running my fingers down his erection as he lays, I ask, "Didn't know what was an option?"
"I didn't... I didn't, um..." I've never seen him shy before. "I didn't think I'd like you doing that. Nor did I consider to be something I would enjoy."
Giggling, I turn back to his pec, giving it a few puppy kisses before my lips latch onto him. I twirl my closed fist around his cock, running up and down his length. When I come away from his chest, I do so with a pop, and kiss across his chest to his other nipple.
"I wish I could kiss you." He takes my knee and drags me to him. I turn while I suck him. From this angle, he pets my rear and fingers me slowly. "I wish I could taste you."
I finish with his chest, and I kiss his neck, feeling his legs tremble before I venture back down, pressing kiss after kiss onto his breastbone and down his belly. His breath is hard and vocal, and he moans when I tongue-kiss the head of his cock. It throbs, sliding against my lips. When I drag myself down his shaft and kiss his testes through his underwear, he swears under his breath, lifting his hips, pulling his fingers out of my cunt to push his underwear off. I manage to get him through his fly while he shuffles waistband down his buttocks and help him slide it off his feet. I have to restart, so I kiss up the inside of his thigh, and find his sac, where I lap at him before latching my lips around one of the testicles. He sputters, "Good God, Ellie, you're fucking killing me."
I pop off him, turning over my shoulder, smiling, taking his dick in my fist. "You should do something about it, then." Pulling it upright, I kiss up it and sink down.
I'm not a particularly seasoned woman. Sure, I can get my mouth open wide enough to fit him without scraping him with my teeth, but my stomach lurches when I hit the back of my throat. I come up for air and catch my breath before I giggle.
"I can't wait to get you inside of me," I say, "I don't think I'm going to be able to walk when you finish."
Ichabod doesn't have the opportunity to respond before I sit on his ribs. My hypothesis is proven when I'm able to get him in much easier than I was sitting off to the side. It's all velvet when I swallow.
He pets my thighs. "God, Ellie, you're the most tantalizing woman I've met," he says, pulling me open. I can almost feel his eyes on me. I could if I wasn't trying to fuck him with my neck, at least. The sheer length of him is already putting a crick in my neck, but I can't bring myself to stop when he starts to moan enough I can hear it as clearly as conversation.
Tugging my hair, he says, "I'm getting close." I continue anyway. If he wants me to stop, he'll have to do more than that. "Come on now, I don't want ending so soon."
The job's made me bold. I'm not a woman to be reasoned with. Oxygen be damned, I keep him deep in me, gagging as I bob with him halfway inside of my throat, suctioned to pull everything I can from his orgasm with fervor. Every gasp and grunt he makes is more reason to continue. Push him right to the edge until he decides to shoot down my neck or fuck me properly.
"Ellie," he begs, "fucking hell, you're-- God, how are you so fucking--" whining, he wraps his fist in my hair and pulls me off. I yelp, neck popping, giggling as his dick slams against his belly, pulsing and leaking pink. I cough and catch my breath.
"I don't think I've seen you drop the f-bomb before." I'm gloating. I have questions why he his precum is pink but they can wait. He rolls on top of me, pulling my legs over his, hand cupping the underside of my breast. His chains erupted from the floor and capture me.
"You've changed a lot about me." He digs through my nightstand and rips a condom open with shaking hands. "I knew my life would change the second I laid eyes on you."
My chest goes warm hearing that.
His head cuts through my lips and he shudders with a grunt. "I can't believe you're still so wet."
"I-I liked pushing you. I want to..." I bite my lip and feel shy, "I wanted to make you want to pi-ile drive me."
"I'll give you what you want, baby," he promises. His head breaches me and I grunt. I probably should've asked him to put in a couple more fingers before starting. He pauses when I stiffen and caresses my waist. "Are you alright?"
"Just do the tip for a moment," I ask. He obliges, gently gyrating, thumbing by clit. It's a lovely feeling.
"Ellie, you don't know how hard it is keeping from fucking you," he says, shaking. It's got me laughing for a moment. Everything he says is just perfect. "I want to fuck you so badly."
Linking my ankles, I coax him closer to ease his dick into me. He braces himself on either side of my head while sliding inside. My cheek lays on his chest. My appreciation for his size grows. I love the feeling of him, every inch, with new appreciation for his size. My pussy felt so empty before and as I acclimate to him, I feel so full.
"I love you, Ellie," he breathes, "every beautiful-- beautiful piece of you."
He lays his head on mine and takes my throat in one of his hands. Briefly, he runs his thumb across my bottom lip, before rocking slow and steady into me, huffing, holding my neck in his fist. It feels good to be handled like this. I'm all warm inside and I think part of it is because it's with someone I love.
"Yes, Ichabod, yes," I breathe, and he rumbles in response. "Just a little h-harder."
He obliges, thumb petting my cheek. My eyes shut. Every movement stokes a fire, pushing water closer to the edge of the dam. I hum pleasantly. "Am I in too much trouble for you to let me go?" I beg, and after a moment, the chains disintegrate, allowing me to wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling us flush, where I kiss his collarbone. He groans.
"Don't do that, Ellie, I'm having a hard time being gentle with you," he says, shaking, so I kiss the other side of his collar up to his Adam's apple and he picks up the pace. I don't know if he lost control or took it as permission to do as he pleases but it sends my head back into my mattress and puts me moaning. He pushes himself up and locks his elbows, sinew slithering under his skin like a marble piece of art, and ruts me. Hard. I know he bounces off my cervix but god it's good.
"Fucking gorgeous," he utters, and I believe he thinks I'm the most desirable woman known to him, and it and his expertise are enough to put me alight.
"Harder," I beg, and he obliges, sitting back on his heels and pulling my legs over his shoulders and holding me by my hips. I miss holding him, so my fists curl into my cover and I bite my knuckle, fabric soaking my saliva. I regret every time I felt guilty for wanting sexual gratification because this is the closest I've felt to God before. Ichabod might just be Adonis.
"Ohhh god, Ellie," he moans, echoing off the walls, "you're Heavenly. I love you. God, you're amazing, Ellie." I want to tell him he's the amazing one but my every respiration is only gibberish and blissful giggling if I'm not chanting yes, yes, yes.
It's almost like the dreams I've had of us. Instead, I get to live every minute of it. No cutting to the wall where he pounds me to oblivion. No waking before I finish. A sense of finality. Of impending completion.
"Fuck," Ichabod swears, dropping onto his back and drilling me from below. I know I ask him to fuck me harder because his legs have spread and he holds me at an angle, hitting my sweet spot every time without fail. I stare into his eye sockets and it's like I see love and desire and satisfaction in them.
My voice is a shaking cacophony. My eyes flutter shut. I take his hands to hold my breasts as he rides me, the stinging of my behind with his every collision just another absolutely rapturous sensation. I think I tell him I love him, that I need him like this and dozen of other ways, but I'm closer and closer to climax, better than the one before by the heat and intensity of my need.
It's a slow start like the start of a storm, but I'm bracing myself on his shoulders and screaming his name in seconds as it overcomes me.
"Fuck, yes, Ichabod, god!" I scream, flushed from my hairline to my tits. "Fuck me just like that, baby! Ohhh God!" I'm of half the mind to worry about the neighbors until I feel his pace stutter, emptying into me, pushing me through this orgasm like he did before. Knowing I'm filled with him and his cum makes my cunt spasm and he utters a long, shaking groan as it squeezes and milks him.
He's still slowly lifting himself in and out by the time I regain speech. I run my hands down his forearms and smile at him like I'm glowing. "You're such a wonderful man," I tell him. "I'd spend years telling you every part of you I love if you let me."
I can feel his orgasm end inside of me when he stops pulsing. I can't move my legs. I know I can't, they feel wobbly. He releases my breasts, wrapping his arms around me, and I lay on his chest where we breathe and bask together.
"Where did you learn to do that?" I ask. He laughs and traces my spine with his fingers. I like how affectionate he is now.
"I don't know if you want to hear my dating history right this second," he says.
"Well, just be sure to thank her if you see her again," I say, and we laugh.
I sit up with him still inside of me. He pets my waist and I wonder how starved for this he's been. I glance at the clock. It's, like, two in the morning. I'll be hearing from the landlady in the morning about the noise but I don't really care. Ichabod is in love with me. I thought I was doomed to loneliness and poverty, but he's lifted me out of all that, and lets me give it back to him.
"We should wash up," he whispers. Brushing my bangs aside, he says, "I hope I wasn't too rough."
"I think I like it rough," I tell him. "I know I like being manhandled. But... this was... I mean, all considered, this is pretty great?" Gleefully, I kiss his fingers. I know he's looking at me, but now that we're not fucking, it's not as easy to tell what he's feeling.
"... I'm sorry. That you had to pull that out of me," he says. "I do love you, Ellie. I mean that. I got into my own head and, God, I don't know I could live if... if I wasn't... If we weren't..." he shudders. I pull myself off him. His sinking partial falls on his belly, and I kiss his neck, chaste.
I don't know how to feel about his vulnerability. It hurts seeing him like this and I wish I knew how to make him see how wonderful he is.
"You've given me so much, Ichabod," I sigh. My head lays on his chest. His arms wrap around me. "I was so scared of this blowing up in my face and I'm just so grateful it didn't. I'm so, so glad we have this together."
"I don't understand why anyone would... would love this. Me. Let alone you of all people." He pets my cheeks sweetly. "I see you and it's... you're a star, Ellie. Everyone sees how wonderful you are. I mean it: everyone. I'm nothing like that. I'm nothing like you. I have no idea what you could possibly see in me."
I frown. "Is this about your head?"
He rubs above his eye socket. "In part. But... I don't have a-a fraction of the compassion or bravery I see from you."
"There's so much about you I admire and adore." I rest my chin on my hands. He stares down at me. "I love you, Ichabod. I love... I love you for saving me. You make me laugh. I fuck up and... and you're the first to offer forgiveness. I don't deserve it but you give it to me anyway."
"You, of all people, should know the merit of forgiveness, my love, and know the compassionate give it most. How oft do you forgive me? The scared and foolish we encounter?" I can hear a smile in his voice. I hum. "It seems we remain at an impasse."
I smile. My legs aren't gelatin anymore. "We should clean up." I swing my leg off him. "I'd like to save a bit on my water bill. It's too late for you to go home, anyway."
He seems to get the message. Sitting up, he sheds his socks and his garters. I help him out of his shirt, and regret that I don't have an iron. "Who am I to deny a lady her water bill and space in her bed?" he says while I undress him. I giggle and take him by his hand. My sink is kind of a mess but he doesn't seem to notice, taking my arms and running his hands down my triceps. "Might I request your assistance?"
"I think we're at a point you can just ask me to touch your dick."
"Nothing gets by you, does it?" he remarks as I slip off the condom full. I have an answer to why his precum was pink-- it's blood. Truthfully, it's the least strangest thing of his anatomy so I tie it off and toss it in the waste bin without saying anything.
Ichabod turns the water on warm and steps in. I follow and kiss his neck under the stream. "Is it warm enough?" he asks.
"No," I answer, and he leans to turn up the hot water. I reach under his shoulder for my soap bar and lather his chest and stomach and his soft, pink cock. He takes the bar from me. Kneeling, he washes my legs, starting from my feet. I don't know if it's reverence or love.
He looks up at me. "I love you, Ellie." I think he's smiling.
Fandom: Third Shift Society
Characters: Ellie McGuinness, Ichabod, John McGuinness
Words: 3.2k
Summary: Ellie's father returns after years of estrangement. She's not happy about it. The morning comes to a nicer ending, at least.
Warnings: dysfunctional families, mental health issues, mentions of suicidal ideation, mentions of cancer
AO3: works/71221521
A/N: Contains small spoilers for Parts 11 & 12. Tags are scarier than the actual fic since most of these topics are referential. Anyway, the skinny of this is Ellie used to be in a bad place & is a better place now. Ichabod is mentioned to ejaculate blood. I could meta this to death but this isn't a TED Talk & I wouldn't be able to shut up until I finished a dissertation on my complete thoughts on Third Shift Society anyway. So. Ellie's mental health issues are mentioned, but nothing is narratively detailed because half of this is just Ellie yelling at her father before getting boned.
I'm sore after this job, but considering that we didn't cause any property damage last night, I count that as a rare clean-cut win.
Ichabod pays for my saccharine coffee while I fish through my wallet in search of my card. I'm embarrassed to make him wait so long that he pays for it himself. As we wait off to the side, I say, "I'm sorry about that."
"I'm not sure what you're apologizing for."
"I didn't mean to make you wait so long."
He hums. "That's not why I paid for it."
I cock my eyebrow. Normally I'd ask why, but my coffee's ready. I have a lot of errands to run so I'd rather pound it before exhaustion sets in.
Ichabod walks me home. Our hands are brushing together, and I wonder if he realizes how badly I want to hold his hand. I can't bring myself to ruin the little I have now.
I stop in the middle of the sidewalk outside my complex. Ichabod turns. "Are you alright, Ellie?"
My nostrils flare. Rage singes my insides. Whatever affection I was feeling moments ago is gone now.
I drop my coffee storm the man outside the entryway. "What the fuck are you doing here, John?"
He seems startled. "It's Dad."
"Not after everything you put me through! Fuck off, I don't want to see you. I thought that was clear since I haven't talked to you in, like, five years."
Ichabod puts his hands up. "Alright, I don't know what's happening here, but let's take a step back." He takes my hand. I'm still unspeakably vexed, but his grasp tempers it. He turns to John. "We'll be just a moment, Mister McGuinness."
He takes me off to the side. There's a beat of silence before he wraps me in his arms. I hug his waist. Part of me feels like crying, but as of now, I just want to dig my thumbs into my father's eyes.
"I know you have a complicated relationship with your father, but he might be here to apologize," he whispers. "He might be saying goodbye. This might be the last chance you have to mend bridges--"
"I don't want to mend bridges," I tell him.
"And it could be the last tell him how badly he hurt you." He rubs my back. "I'll support whatever decision you make, but I think it's something you need to consider."
I look up at him. I know it's strange, but he's handsome even with a pumpkin for a head. I love him.
"I'll need your help if I decide I want him out. He doesn't listen to me," I beg him.
"I'll throw him in the trash chute if that's what you please."
Normally, I'd smile, but I don't have it in me now. I pull away from Ichabod and approach John. He's staring at us and I don't like the look on his face. He disapproves of a relationship that doesn't even exist.
I fish my keys out of my pocket and unlock the entry. "I'm not your little girl. You're a guest in my house and you'll behave as such.
I've folded laundry but it's still on the counter. I take a moment to dump it in my hamper and stuff it under the counter while John takes the couch. Ichabod sits at the counter and folds his arms. I grab the other seat and sit across the coffee table from my father.
"What're you even here for, John? I haven't spoken to you in, like, five years."
"Ellie, I'm your father. You need to call me Dad."
"No!" I say. "Do you know what you put me through? The-the denial? The anti-psychotics?" I howl. "Do you remember when I told you how fucking suicidal I was my senior year of high school and how you just fucking brushed it off as teenage melodrama?"
"Jesus," Ichabod says. He sounds like he regrets his advice.
John licks his lips. "Is this your boyfriend?" he utters breathily.
"You're not asking the questions here."
He scrapes the dry skin off his lip. He clears his throat and days his elbows on his knees. "Your mother had these same problems. It's why we separated."
"You spent years punishing me for that," I remind him.
"I know. I know, Ellie," he says, and clears his throat. "I saw how the illness ravaged your mother and I- I couldn't do it again."
"So instead of believe Mom, or your parents, or me, your daughter," I emphasize, "you fucking. Just-- just... buried it. Belittled me. Ignored everything that I was going through.
"I didn't have friends until college, John. Everybody thought I was a freak. I hurt so badly on the inside that I hurt myself to relieve it! I know how obvious cutting would be so I burned myself with my cigarettes. I wore shorts so you'd notice and take my pain seriously, but you said nothing. You screamed at me every time I mentioned anything negative."
I scoff. "Do you even like me?" I my voice breaks. Tears well and roll down my cheeks. "Was I your daughter or I was just a burden Mom dumped on you?"
Ichabod stands and hugs me. I can feel tension in his arms. I push him off by his chest, so he lays his hand on my shoulder.
John looks between us, before coming to Ichabod. "You really don't know her, do you?"
"No less than you do, evidently," he replies.
"John, you're talking to me now!" I snap. "Answer me!"
"I love you, Ellie. You know everything I did was it your best interest."
I fly to my feet and storm to him. "Bullshit! You pumped me with anti psychotics! You yelled at me whenever I mentioned how much I was hurting! You barely gave me a crumb of attention whenever I mentioned anything good!"
He stares at me. He pities me. I straighten and snatch my cigarettes from my pockets, lighting one up. I don't care that this is a nonsmoking apartment. I'm not getting the deposit back, anyway.
"I didn't realize you smoked," John murmured. It doesn't even sound catty or disapproving.
"Ten years next year," I tell him.
After a beat of silence, Ichabod says, "Why did you get her anti psychotics?"
John folds his arms. He's staring at the floor. "Her mother saw things. Then Ellie saw things, starting from the time a friend of hers died. The doctors said it's possible it gave her a schizophrenic break and I... I didn't want her to experience the same pain her mother did."
"I did anyway!" I sob. "Your method didn't work, John, but you kept at it! Y'know the definition of insanity is doing the same shit over and over even though it's not working? You told me that!" I'm screaming now. "I was never the insane one, you were!"
"I was a hypocrite," he agrees.
I light my cigarette. Taking a long drag, I grab a ceramic plate off my coffee table to use as an ashtray. "What're you here for, then? You're doing a shit job if you're trying to apologize."
Truth be told, I don't even want an apologize. I was fine when it was just Gwen and I. I'm fine with her and the night creatures I've befriended.
"I'm... I'm here in part to mend bridges," he says.
"It's turning into a hack job."
"Ellie... can we just catch up?" he says.
I grind my teeth. After taking a drag, I ash into the dish. He's hiding something from me.
"Why now?" I reply. "You had years to do this and only just now chose to do so. Why? Do you have cancer or something?"
The look on his face is confirmation enough.
I sigh. I need a minute to digest this, so I sit on the other side of the couch and cross my legs.
"We're not on good terms. You're not going to say a thing while I speak," I say. He nods. "I dropped out of college and did retail for a couple years. I'm paying off student loans for it and I will be for a long time.
"That's my boss. He's a lot of things but most importantly, he's probably one of my best friends. At minimum. He found me in a dark place in my life and changed everything. I mean it now when I say I'm happier than I've ever been.
"It turns out everything I saw was real! I go toe-to-toe with it every night. I've made friends with some of them," I say, thinking of Maris, Simon, and the firewater we've shared. "Mom was right. You know how I feel about that. You can see why I don't want you in my life just for that. Cancer doesn't change my position."
John nods. He's looking at the carpet. "His head really is a pumpkin, isn't it?"
"Not the issue here," I remind him.
Ichabod says, "I don't mind, Ellie." I roll my eyes and puff. Hopefully this fucking kills me.
"It's a pumpkin. We're figuring out why. I've made more headway with Ellie helping than I have on my own in the last five years," Ichabod explains. "Ellie stellar, really. Her friends in our circles see it as clearly as I.
"I know why you made the mistakes you did, John. I'm hoping you take this as an opportunity to try to learn from them. Ellie is, by far, the greatest thing to come into my life."
I feel like shit but I still swoon a little. I think Ichabod's real magic is that he can put me on cloud nine even when I feel like garbage.
John is quiet while he nods. He does this while he's thinking, so I just smoke. I don't fill the silence because the ball's in his court. Ichabod takes a seat next to me before John speaks.
"I have stage four cancer. I suspected I had cancer for awhile, but I kicked it down the road long enough that by the time I went to the doctor for it, it had metastasized and progressed to the point it's at now. I maybe have eight months before I kick the bucket."
"That sucks," I say. I don't really mean it.
"You've made it clear you don't want me in your life. I'll respect that. I won't ask you put me through hospice," John says. I know what that means. He's probably going to kill himself and I don't really give a fuck. I think that makes me a bigger monster than anything we've gone up against and I'm fine with that.
"I wanted to say goodbye, Ellie." He reaches into his bag and sets a manila folder on my coffee table. "There's everything you need. I'm not going to ask your grandparents to put me in the ground, but my insurance and savings will be enough for the memorial and the liquidation of my assets my lawyer will do should provide you with an inheritance. I'm donating my body to a cadaver lab, so you won't need to worry about my remains."
"Works for me," I say. He stands.
"Goodbye, Ellie. I know it doesn't mean much to you, but I do love you," he says. Tears well in my eyes not because I'll miss him but because I know the love he feels for me isn't the love he feels for who I am now. He knows exactly how to hurt me to this day.
He leaves. I take a drag. I'm feeling the poison kill me but it's not fast enough because it feels like fresh air now that John has left.
Ichabod lays his hand on my knee and rubs his thumb on me. I look at the wall because I'm too mad to look him in the eye.
"I'm sorry I put you through that. You were right to tell him to leave earlier," he says.
I shake my head. "It was nice giving him a piece of my mind while I still could. It was nice of him to give me a heads up he was dying instead of springing it on me after med students had their way with him." I scrunch my face. "I wish I felt something other than hatred. I should care when someone I know is dying."
"You do care. Just not about him, and I can sympathize with that." He's silent a moment. "I was hoping this would end better."
I smile at him. "Your optimism is a rare sight. I'm glad you asked me to do this, Ichabod." I want to tell him I love him. I can't, so I hold his hand.
He sighs. "He's a fool to not see what you are now."
I'm in a weird headspace. I can't explain why I smother my cigarette, set it aside, and mount Ichabod's lap. Rather, I can't explain why I'm doing it now of all times.
I lay my arms around his shoulders and put my nose in his neck. It's been a minute since he's seen Maris so he's a little chilly, but I like that he pets my thighs and hugs me.
"I'm glad I met you, Ichabod," I sniff. I want to tell him I love him and I want to tell him more when I feel his chub.
"Sorry," he says.
"I already know those things have a mind of their own," I tell him. It might be the closest thing I get to tell him my feelings for him. I don't think I'd feel pretty with my belly on anyone else's erection.
He's breathing heavily. "It's... it's not entirely a masculine thing," he utters. "I mean... yes, but... but I've... I've wanted this for awhile," he says.
Oh. Oh.
I'm feeling a lot of things. I wish I could be flying on cloud nine but it's tempered by hurt John doled out for ages.
I sit up and lay my hands on his chest. "I didn't know."
"This isn't how I imagined it going, but I don't think I can keep you in the dark thanks to... it." He lays his hands on mine. "I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you, Ellie. I'm sorry y-you found out this way."
"It's scary," I agree. I bend to kiss his neck, and he shudders, blowing air. I'm trying to get him to fuck me. It's a bad distraction, and this is a less than ideal situation to start a relationship, but I think we've wanted this for awhile.
I'll give my father credit for one thing: he put me in the position for good things to happen.
Ichabod palms the back of my head. I lap at his tendon and my teeth into his clammy skin. His hips are twitching against me.
"Ellie, is this the best time for this? I'm not-- I'm not sure I can withhold myself," he pants.
"Is there ever a good time?" I don't think anything in our lives have been normal.
"I suppose not." With his fingers in my hair, he pulls me off his neck, and I like the feeling of his manhandling. "I love you, Ellie."
"You should show me then."
He's throwing me onto the bed in microseconds, pulling out his belt with a snap and shoving his pants down. I'm trying to get my shorts off but he gets his fingers in my waistband and pulls them and my shoes off simultaneously, which makes my groin slick. Who taught him to do that?
"Do you have a condom?" he asks.
"I have an IUD. Lube's in the drawer."
"Is... that... birth control?"
"Yeah."
I expect him to get the lube but he thumbs my labia instead. I'm wet but enough to fuck him without help, but he's rubbing the hood of my clit before I can remind him. My eyelids flutter and I bury my cheek in my covers.
I forget how chivalrous he is.
He pauses. "Is it weird we're having intercourse after your father told us he's dying?" Ichabod asks.
"Only if you make it weird," I tease. He nods and resumes his ministrations on my loins.
He pushes the hood up and his other hand finds the head. I shudder, pulling my feet up to lay them on the mattress as if it could possibly ease their twitching. I shimmy out of my top and unbuckle the front of my bra. Ichabod doesn't have eyes but I know he's staring at them because of how he shudders while I undress.
I can definitely feel orgasm building up like a dam filling. "Just fuck me, Ichabod,"
He obediently cuts his head through my cunt with one hand. He's thick but I don't really understand his size until he slips inside of me, filling me instantly. My moan reverberates off the walls.
"Jesus, you're so wet," he says.
"I've been waiting for this awhile," I tell him.
Ichabod pulls my leg over his shoulder, presses his palm into my belly, and pistons his hips. It's an amazing feeling. Arousing and liberating. He's thick enough I could probably come without him compressing my canal, but he is and it's even better.
My mind is emptied of anguish. I didn't realize how intense it was until it was gone.
"You're beautiful, Ellie," he sighs. His knee slips next to my hip and I smile as my eyes cross. I utter affection under my breath as a string of gibberish for all I know, but I think he hears because he's pounding me now.
I know this is bruising my cervix but it's far outweighed by the building climax. "Yes," I say, "just like that. God, yes."
I now understand why porn actresses speak it like a mantra. It seems men do like it, because Ichabod pushes me up the bed and mounts the leg not over his shoulder. I can see him loom over me in my peripheral, panting. I can smell my cunt on his glove and I don't mind it as much as I mind men trying to get me to eat my cum off their hands when I didn't even come.
It's too soon but I climax in under a minute. I hold his shoulders and utter moans. It feels wonderful, like the ocean tide, even as his gyration becomes sloppy. I can feel him twitching inside of me, emptying himself. I pull him into my neck and he happily scrapes his upper teeth on me. It's the closest he'll come to digging into me for the time being.
We rest in our arms for a moment before he pulls out. His softening dick is streaked pink, which is weird because I don't feel like I was abraded inside at all, let alone enough to bleed.
"Shit," he says, "I'm so sorry, I-I forgot I ejaculate blood."
"Oh, I was worried I was bleeding," I say, spreading myself and peering in. There's blood clotted in my opening but that seems to be the worse of it. It doesn't surprise me, anyway. I've never seen him use the bathroom so bodily fluids being blood makes more sense. "It's probably better we shower, anyway."
We strip the rest or our clothes off and make our way to my bathroom. I rinse off and stand in his arms under the shower head. My hair gets stuck in his under arm, but he doesn't seem to mind while lays his head on my scalp.
This morning was bad. I don't think others will be.
Fandom: Third Shift Society
Characters: Ellie McGuinness, Ichabod, Maris, Simon, various OCs
Pairings: Elchabod-centric, some Marllie
Words: 12.2k
Summary: It's Ellie's first time at Vixxen, a kink club for Reidport's preternatural denizens, and she's shown a pretty good time.
Warnings: BDSM, degradation, mental health issues, brief psychosis
AO3: works/54973525/chapters/166026280
A/N: I take a LOT of anatomical liberties here, specifically with the vampires. A lot of it comes from Vampire: the Masquerade. This isn't intended to be an educational tool but some of it is autobiographical. Ichabod is portrayed as post op in this. Transphobic comments will be deleted.
I know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth even if I don't understand why these people even like me. For now, I'm just grateful to be arm in arm with Maris, skirting the building from the parking lot.
"My point is," she continues, petting my knuckles with her thumb, "everything is complicated, and I'm glad we can share this. I don't mean in a generalized 'I'm grateful to have a work friend and a kink friend,' I mean I'm glad I get to do this with you-- my friend."
I was honored to be extended an invitation here. Every other day of the month the Vixxen is open, it's a normal venue for dancing, scenes, and classes for the mundane. This venue is not for the mundane, however. Twice monthly, the vampiric ownership hosts an exclusive party for preternatural debauchery. Ichabod and I are already kinksters, but I never had the opportunity to erase the conception of propriety and bare myself raw. Not like this.
Simon was the one to courier the official invitation. Apparently, Ichabod and Maris were vouching for weeks before the proprietor agreed to my membership. All this for a measly twenty dollars of monthly dues.
All that said, I didn't expect to be featured in a scene so soon. I was always under the impression I'd have to spend years learning the ropes-- pun intended-- and ingratiating myself before I'd be able to be featured in something like this.
Like I said; I know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.
The Vixxen's facade casts pink light over us. I wonder if it's plaster or if the vampires of Reidport are as decadent as portrayed in fiction. I can hear music wafting out. It sounds moody and electric, like She Wants Revenge. It's fitting.
The doorman smiles when we approach. "Welcome back, Maris. I presume this is the whelp you've spoken so fondly of?"
My cheeks feel warm. It's already perfect.
"That she is. Ellie, this is Jason. He's one of the men who keep this place safe for us."
"Thank you for your work, Sir," I say.
I kind of feel like Maris is talking about me as if I'm a child and it feels good. I know we must make a stand for doing the right thing, but everything I do eventually blows up in my face and I get dizzy from the indecision that comes from the consequences I might incur. Submission might be a strange way to cope with that but it seems to work for everyone.
"No problem, Miss. Do you know the rules here?" Jason asks.
"Maris told me about them. Only touch people with purple stamps, staff are off limits until or unless they approach you, no phones, and no channeling," I reply. There are others but they're for vampires. I'm under the impression they can get rowdy.
"Awesome, you got it down pat." Jason adjusts his ball cap. "Well, Miss, are you okay being touched?"
"Yeah, it sounds like fun." I give him my hand and he stamps both of us purple. "Thanks, Jason. Have a good night."
"Yes, thank you as always, Jason," Maris says.
"Of course, ladies. Enjoy your night."
The music is nothing quite like it was inside. My ribs are reverberating. Strangely, I can still hear discussion clearly, and I wonder if there's some sort of ward for that while we hand over our stuff at coat check.
I fully expected both of us to err on the side of indecency, but I can't say I was expecting Maris to be wearing a halter suit with her breasts exposed. Rhinestones pattern her chest and shoulders, shining like her heels. I feel juvenile in my body stocking now. I don't know if I like that. I feel like I'm embarrassing Maris by being so under dressed.
"Welcome back, Maris," the young woman at the counter says as she logs our belongings. "Simon wanted me to tell you he wants to see you guys whenever you guys are ready. I think he's behind the bar."
"We'll be sure to find him. Thank you, Mariah," Maris replies.
The club proper feels like a wonderland, the perfume of blood and cum lingering in the air, and if I felt juvenile before, I feel moreso now. There's a lot of people here and a lot of them are better looking and if they’re dressed, they’re better dressed than I am.
Maris rubs my back. "You're looking delicious, dear. I'm glad you had the forethought to get an open crotch. I didn't when I first came here and one of the mascs snapped it. I mean... lovely in the moment, but I had to walk home like that."
I nod and sink into her side. I don't think I could do this without Maris.
"Am I, um, do I look trashy? O-or cheap?" I ask her.
She chuckles. "That doesn't matter. We're all whores here." I nod. It's good to know that I'm not a sore thumb here. "Now, before we partake of libations, let's find Simon."
"I'd like that. I know we discussed some of the scene earlier, but I'd like to get the details since we didn't have, like, a rehearsal for the free use scene.” It takes the magic out of it.
"Of course."
Maris and I make our way to the bar past a raised platform. There's a decent amount of seating here ranging from booths to a few couches. Most people seem to be mingling if they're drinking. While we're peering, I catch Simon coming out of the store room off to the side and wave at him. He smiles and jogs over to us.
I knew he'd be a sexual being, but I wasn't expecting to see my boyfriend's roommate in a pair of jocks and boots, nor did I expect him to be kind of foxy. What cosmic coincidence made all my friends hot?
"Hey, good to see you guys," he says. He and Maris hug, and then myself. I know he's chilly but it still feels nice being held here, like I do belong.
"Thanks for having me. I hope you all didn't have to stick your necks out for me," I tell him. How awful would it be if I fuck up and embarrass them? Would they even want to see me anymore?
He laughs, "Well, Ellie, we didn't have to stick our necks out that far. Your reputation proceeds you. The proprietor wanted to discuss it with Ichabod before moving forward, but you know how hard it is to get you guys in once place," he says.
"Sorry about that," I say. I'm glad my friends like me. "Um, by the way, where's Ichabod?"
"I know I've seen him around," Simon replies. I frown.
"Doctor Strauss, we were hoping to discuss the particulars of the scene when you have a moment," Maris says. Her knuckle pets my cheek. "Ellie ought to be privy to them."
"That's actually what I was hoping to see you guys about. I'm going to help one of the staff with the table really quickly and then I'll meet you guys in the lounge," Simon says.
"Of course. Take your time, Doctor," Maris says. I wave to Simon as she takes me towards the opposite end of the building.
Some of the seats here are strange. The furniture is of various heights and a few even have hookah. There's a fair amount of seating with a hole right in the center of it. Stranger are the waitstaff. Most of them seem like furniture such as ottomans, tables, and even ash trays. A man having a cigarette extinguished on his chest tilts his head back and bears his fangs. I don't even know where to begin in this sea of rubber and masochism.
"Maris, what're those?" I ask.
"It's a rim chair. You take a seat and if you're showing the purple side of the card on the table, someone will come by and perform oral sex on you from below." She smiles fondly at it. "Would you like to try, Ellie? It might even make it easier to start your scene later since you'll already be sufficiently lubricated."
My chest is warm. "I-is it really okay? I mean... these aren't staff, a-are they?"
"The ones in the bunny masks? No. They're people a lot like you, who like to be used for the pleasure of others."
I nod. Another item added to my bucket list.
"We don't have to do it if you don't want to, Ellie, but I think it's something you'll enjoy," she says.
"Okay, let's try," I beam.
I don't want to take one of the ones low to the ground so I take Maris to one that has normal-length chairs. Thankfully, this one has hookah, because I just realized I left my cigarettes at coat check.
I'm lighting the coals when I ask, "What was your first time here, like?" I ask.
Maris chuckles. "I was... twenty. I think. I had just moved to Reidport from a ways away to learn magic from the coven here.
"I was new to the city and I was very lonely. You see, covens attract all sorts, and not everyone is kind or trustworthy. The politics were cutting. I was fortunate to have a friend who was a Reidport native to vouch for me.
"I was terrified my first time here. I'd only heard of kink in passing. I didn't even have any gear, so I came in a ratty cocktail dress. All of her friends were so sweet, Ellie." She takes one of the nozzles. "We sat, we talked. I came. A butch fucked me stupid on the table. I thought it would feel bad to do this kind of thing in front of friends and acquaintances, but it felt good to have them there. It's comparable to love but on a grander scale."
Smoke fogs my eyes. I say, "I'm not sure I take your meaning."
She hums. "Ellie, it's safe to say we're close friends, right?" Of course, I nod. I love Gwen but I think Maris is the greatest woman I've ever met. I don't know why she protects me, or even likes me, but I love her for it. "Do you think you'd fall out of love if I were to finger you to completion here?"
I cough. I don't know that I'd say I'm in love with Maris, but I like her a lot. This feels like a trap.
"If you were to do so for me, you would still be my friend, but our friendship would be different, don't you think? I hope for the better.
"It's like that. You're more than friends. You're together in the deepest way possible, shy of marriage of the flesh."
I don't know what she means but I want to.
"Anyway, I've been hooked ever since. Most of the girls have moved on to places like New Orleans or New York. Cultural and magical centers. I'm happy where I am now. Reidport is special."
I take a long drag. It's hard to picture Maris as vulnerable and out of place when I've seen how powerful she is technically, intellectually, and emotionally.
I was always out of place. Even after I ignored the spirits, my father had a way of bringing out the worst in me, just like he did with my mother before she got fed up with it. I could float misfit to misfit but I never belonged the way they did. By my senior year, I was so broken I didn’t have friends. It wasn’t until I left home I could even begin fixing myself.
"A-are you sure you're fine being... alone?" I ask.
Her eyes glitter. "I'm not alone."
I feel fuzzy and smile.
"Hello, Madams."
I turn to see a pair of gentlemen in rabbit masks and tight thongs. The one nearest to me was the one who had the cigarette extinguished on him, though the wound has since mended. I didn't realize how chiseled he was until he was up close.
Either way, both are hard and have purple stamps.
Maris claps her hands giddily. "Oh, good! I was hoping to see you boys here! This is a dear friend of mine, Ellie."
The boys bow. The gentleman nearest to me says, "It's a pleasure to meet you in person, Madam. I've heard many good things about you."
I smile. It's not even something I force, I genuinely didn't realize strangers know of and like me. It feels really good.
"Oh, thanks."
The scrawnier man next to him says, "I see you have the purple sign on, might we service you ladies tonight?"
Maris turns to me. I nod. She says. "Of course, boys." She pets the scrawny one's cheek. "Now, Tom, I know you know what you're doing, but Duncan, be sure to show my friend a good time, alright? She's very pretty and she likes being shown that."
"Of course, Madam."
Duncan lays his hand on my bare breast and I start breathing a little heavier. This is exhilarating but I'm not sure what to do, so I sit still and let him work.
"As I was saying," Maris says as her boy toy presses kisses on her neck, "I'm not alone. I have you. I have the club." She takes a lungful of hookah before resuming. "Believe it or not, mine and Ichabod's break up was amicable. Awkward at first, but he is my friend, and I am glad that you, who is also my friend, is happy with him, because he's very happy with you.
Duncan presses a kiss to my neck as he massages my breast. My breath catches. "O-oh," I say, sighing. "I'm glad. I wasn't... I don't want there to be... to be bad blood between us, Maris. I hope you don't think we're just friends because of circumstance."
"Of course not, baby," she says. The endearment goes straight to my pussy. "It's good having a woman to spend time with, you know? I love the coven but... it can be exhausting. And the rest of the time, I'm with clients other preternaturals. I'm stuck between the Ides of March and--" her breath shudders. Her boytoy, I think his name is Tom, has sat himself under the chair by now. "A-and a sausage party. Now, I love men, but... it's nice being among your own. And it's nicer that you're not just a work friend or a club friend."
I think I get her point. Multiple, actually. Duncan. laps at my neck and I moan. It's nice that Maris is here. I think a lot of this, a lot of my life, would be a lot scarier without her. A lot emptier. No one is an island.
Duncan splays his hand across my chest and down my belly. It makes my undercarriage flinch and burn just as he's about to reach my mounds.
"I was always whittling away at myself," I tell her, "I'm glad the feeling is mutual. It's... I can't begin to say how good it is to have a friend that encompasses my identity."
My eyes cross. He's rubbing circles on my hood. I didn't even know a stranger could find it that quickly.
Maris chuckles. She pets my knuckles. "See what I mean?"
"Yes," I nod.
"I'm glad... isn't she such a good girl, Duncan?"
I pant and whimper. He hums against me and murmurs, "Such a good girl."
My moan is stuttering and desperate. It's like I've come undone.
Duncan lays below me. I feel him kiss me and start with a flat tongue across my length.
"Wh-where do you think Ichabod is?" I ask. I can barely see between my lids spasming with flutters.
"He's around, baby." I moan she calls me that. "You just focus on being a good girl and feeding our friend Duncan. He's wanted this for awhile now."
"H-he has?" I ask.
"I told him all about how well you did in the crypt and I had to chain him up to keep him from rubbing himself." Maris splits in two before rejoining. My head is spinning. "He's always liked women that could kill him."
"I-I don't want to kill him," I murmur.
"No, but you could."
My chest collapses and inflates. I love the way this feels but I can't keep my composure like Maris is. I brace myself on the table, gripping the nozzle in my hand.
"I-I don't know why he would," I say, and gasp. He's found my clit again. He's not exactly going easy, though. He's not rough but it's a mechanical impossibility for me not to come with what he's doing.
"Mmm... why do you like Ichabod hitting you, Ellie? Or calling you mean names like a cocktease?"
"I-I am a cocktease. I am a bitch." I squeeze my eyes shut. "I-I kicked a b-baby."
She chuckles. "It's okay, baby girl." She takes my hand and my legs spasm. Duncan wraps his big arms around me and pins me to the chair.
"You don't like those because you are cocktease or a bitch. You just like it rough. Ichabod likes being rough. Duncan likes when he's roughed up. Why don't you try calling him a mean name?"
"Well, hello ladies. Good to see you all are enjoying the amenities."
I turn my head to Simon. I feel a little ashamed but he doesn't seem to be grossed out.
"H-hi Simon," I say.
"Hello again, Doctor Strauss. Ellie was about to put Duncan in his place," Maris says.
"He does enjoy that." Simon takes a seat and sets the clipboard down. He lays his chin on his hand. "Go ahead, Ellie."
I nod. My brain is blanking, so I call him the meanest thing I can think of in the moment-- a worthless leech. It makes my chest hot and my throat close up.
I feel his chest rumble. He's diving into me like a drowning man thrashes. Being tongued like this is a lot like how Ichabod uses his hands. I'm whinnying and lay my head between my arms to stifle myself. Maris is beside me, pulling me onto her chest, where I bury my nose in her neck.
"M-Mommy," I stammer. She rubs my arm.
"Just like that. You're being such a good girl." This elicits another moan from me. My brain is melting and I adore it. "Call him a good for nothing."
"You're good for nothing, Duncan. This is the only thing you're worth." Ichabod's said it to me before and I think Duncan likes it the same as I do.
"That's a good girl. You're already so good at disciplining these whores, I'm so proud of you."
"Thank-- thank y--"
I don't finish because I'm coming. My hips tilt into his mouth and I cling to Maris while I whine. He follows through and I swear the tide washing over me could be magma with how hot my innards become. It puts me shaking and blurry.
Duncan removes himself. I see him kneeling in the walkway, glassy eyed, mouth slick with cum.
His cock weeps blood. I stare.
"Well, that was quite a show," Simon compliments.
I catch my breath and say, "Is that all it takes to get you going?" I try to sound like I hate him. "Are you gonna blow if I touch you?"
His breath is heavy and fast. My fingers wrap around his shaft and I press my thumb into his head. Apparently, it is, because he grunts and fires onto my cheek like a cannon. I gently pet him through another four spurts. He looks dizzy and gleeful.
"See? He really is a pathetic whore, isn't he? Imagine if he had stuck that into your pussy, dear. You wouldn't have even gotten to come. Isn't that right, Duncan?"
"Yes, Madam," he sighs happily. I smile at him. "Thank you for using me, Madam Ellie."
"Yeah, of course," I tell him.
"Alright, you boys are excused now," Maris says, shooing them off. They bow and walk off on their knees.
I feel her eyes on me. "How was that, Ellie?" she asks.
"Amazing," I murmur, and look down at myself. I didn't realize I had gotten blood cum in my hair. I kind of like it.
"Well, don't tell Duncan that. I'm sure Ichabod will be glad to hear you've had a good time, but Duncan's idea of a good time is being worthless," Simon says.
Duncan and I are a lot alike.
"Anyway... why don't I grab you a towel?" he says.
"No, it's fine. I like it."
He nods. "Do you think you'll be able to do that in front of a crowd?" he asks.
I feel dizzy thinking of everyone staring at me while I'm railed. I've had fantasies about it but it's even better knowing it's about to be realized.
"Yeah," I reply. "Um... Where is Ichabod, though?"
"He's around. You'll see him soon," Simon promises.
I nod. How hard can it be to find a fucking pumpking-headed Adonis in a place like this?
"Alright, Ellie, let's get to the details of your scene, shall we?" Simon says. "Now, about the free use--"
"I-I know it's gross, but I think it's the point," I tell him. "Like... yeah, you're a cum dump, but people obviously want to... to dump it in you."
I don't think Simon thinks anything of it but I know Maris clocks me immediately because she presses a kiss to my temple.
"I've got about sixteen sign-ups here. Well, originally twenty-eight, but I whittled it down to more experienced kinksters. I remember you mentioning you like women, so we've got a decent mix in there," he says.
I frown. "Like... cis women?"
"Only one of those. She's a strap-user along with another gentleman who wanted to give you a whirl. The other three women are transgender and they’re very lovely people."
I smile. I like that I don't have to feel weird about liking girls here. I've seen lesbians online be awful to trans women like they and liking them is a moral failing.
However, I turn to Maris, rubbing my knees together. My voice is locking up. I'm not sure how to go about asking my friend if he wants to fuck me. This is kind of her territory.
"What is it, dear?" she asks.
I lean in and whisper, "How do I ask if he wants a turn?"
She chuckles and rubs my back. "Just like that."
I nod and turn to him with warm cheeks. "Um... are you on the list?"
"I didn't get around to asking you. I wasn't sure if you were okay with it."
I gnaw on myself. "D-do you want one?"
He smiles. "I would be honored, Ellie."
I nod. "And what about Ichabod?"
"He isn't on the list, no," Simon says, and he picks up on my displeasure quickly. "He told me he doesn't want you to feel like this is for him. He wants you to enjoy yourself.
"Now, you'll be occupied for most of the scene, so we'll be giving you a prop you'll drop if you want to stop the scene. If you are able to speak, the house uses the stoplight system. More importantly, I want to cover any boundaries you might have. Free use is a lot more complicated than just having a train run on you.”
My mind blanks and I look to Maris nervously.
"Are you okay with anal, dear? A lot of people here enjoy it," she says.
"Oh... n-no, please." How could I forget that? "Um... I like being choked and hit, a-and I'd like it to be encouraged. If they wanna do it with a closed fist, I'd rather they not hit my face. I'd prefer no one come inside of me, though. I mean, I like swallowing, but... I kind of want to just... I don't know." I hug myself. "Be glazed, I guess."
Simon nods and notes that. "Alright, and what aren't you alright with? Is it just the anal sex?"
I wrack my brain. "I don't want to hear anyone refer to themselves as Daddy. I-I know it's hypocritical because I call girls Mommy, but... I don't like it." I pause. "I don't want mundanes having vaginal sex with me, either." I have an IUD, but I just don't want to risk it.
I watch him write for a moment and I feel like I've done something wrong. My heart is pounding. After a moment, he says, "I think that's all I need here. I'll be sure to inform participants of these no-gos." He clicks his pen and stands. I look between them again with my pigtails whipping.
Maris asks, "Are you alright, dear?"
"Um... have you seen Ichabod yet, Simon?"
I see him and Maris glance at each other and I know I'm in trouble. I feel like throwing up. "Not since I've sat down," he says.
"Did he say anything to you when you did see him?"
He smiles. "He told me he's very excited for tonight."
I bite my lip and nod.
Maris clears her throat. "Doctor Strauss, when do we go on?"
"Twenty minutes from now," he says after glancing at a wall clock.
"And who is overseeing her safety and ensuring her boundaries are adhered to?" she asks. I'm really glad to have Maris here with me. I don't think I'd be any good without her.
"Myself, ideally, unless Ellie wants to swap someone else out."
Maris is looking at me. I shake my head. "N-no, I"m fine. Thanks, Simon."
He stands. "Of course, Ellie. Don't be afraid to reach out for help, but I'll see you two in a few minutes."
He walks off and Maris pets my arms. "Are you doing alright, dear?"
"Better now that Simon is involved, I think... a bit of stage fright." I pause. "Have you, um, have you done a scene?"
"Yes. I whipped a man until he bled and ejaculated. I quite enjoyed myself."
"Y-you mean Ichabod?"
"No," she chuckles. "It might be hard to believe, but we were... vanilla. Relatively. He was a different man back then."
I nod.
"Ellie," Maris says as she cups my cheek, "you realize you don't have to do this, right?"
"I want to do it." Maybe Ichabod will change his mind during the scene and join in, anyway.
She pets my hair. I feel childish here and I'm glad she humors it. "Alright, I'm glad, but you can stop at any time."
Maris stands and huddles close to me. I lay my head on her chest.
"I, um, I didn't make you not come, right?" I ask.
"Don't worry about that. I have lots of fun ahead of me."
"But that's not fair to you."
She chuckles and presses a kiss on my hair. “I’m here every other week, Ellie. I'm not missing out on anything."
I nod. "Okay, Mommy."
"You're such a good girl to be concerned about me. That's how you end up winning over everyone, you know? Pure sweetness." Her cheek is on my scalp and she rocks me. This feels so serene and it makes my eyes mist.
Friendship like this isn't something I've felt before. It's like fissures are opening and healing. I know sex to be good. I know this to be good. I didn't realize it could be poultice.
How many wounds have I accumulated? Can they even be fucked out of me? How many years must I feel like a child before I delight in power as Maris does? How long before I ask Ichabod to bend so I can whip him? Will he even be in love with me anymore by that time?
We're heading to the platform. I stop at the step up and turn to Maris.
"Can you stay with me?" I whisper. Maris rubs my back and helps me on stage.
I don't get on the table yet, though. Simon agreed to make me.
He's with us soon and I see a crowd start to gather around the platform. Simon hops onto stage with applause and a couple whistles.
"Well hello, all! This is a great turnout for tonight," he says. It's cool how suave he is now.
"Most of you already know myself and another volunteer tonight, Maris, but if this is your first time, let me introduce Vixxen and its mission. This place as been a longtime staple in Reidport's nightlife scene, but more importantly, a staple in ours.
"It's safe to say no one here is normal. Luckily for us, our proprietor saw an opportunity to make a space where we can safely be ourselves, and it's been just that for dozens of us in the city, and I'm grateful to share that with one of our newest members."
There's whistling and short applause. Maris whispers in my ear to wave so I do so.
"I'm proud to welcome my friend, Ellie. I'm sure most of you have heard of her in passing as a premier investigator of preternatural activity in the city and I can assure you even if what you were told is incorrect, it's likely possible. I've seen this young lady face down impossible odds with nothing less than compassion and determination. I wasn't there for the pitchforks, but I've been around for a lot more, and I can tell you with certainty that if we didn't have her, we'd be significantly less safe than we are now."
I blush and try to hide a smile. I didn't know him to be prone to hyperbole.
"So, obviously, the best way to thank her for everything she's done is by fucking her brains out," Simon says, and nearly everyone, myself included, burst into laughter. When it abates, he continues. "In all seriousness, I need to lay down some ground rules for the scene. I've informed other participants of some behind the scenes details, but I'm asking everyone to be respectful of the club's scene rules. No shaming, no flaming, don't interrupt the scene. There will be blood in this scene. I know my fellow vampires might need some help with that, so I have peppermint oil available, well.. everywhere really, in case the smell becomes too much. If you do end up frenzying, nobody needs to worry, we're well versed in crisis management and I can assure everyone's safety here.
"Our friend Ellie has expressed that she doesn't mind yelling and name-calling, but I am going to ask that if you do have something to belt out, don't use anything possibly inflammatory like racial or sexual slurs. Additionally, while I don't think this will be a problem, Ellie doesn't want to hear any Daddy Dom shit from anyone, so while Mommy Domme is good in her book, I want the gentlemen in here to keep that in mind while she's up here, alright?"
There's applause and I feel good about myself. I look over the crowd and everyone seems pretty excited.
I don't see Ichabod.
"Without further ado, we're gonna get started," Simon announces. Before I'm able to turn to see if Ichabod is behind me, I'm backhanded and flung into the table. I yelp and start to giggle. The strike went straight to my cunt.
It's no fun if you don't take it seriously.
I duck Simon's clothesline and punch him in the gut. He doesn't breathe so he's barely affected, and he takes me by my wrist and my hair and throws me over the table, bending my back over it while I thrash and claw at his hands.
"Might I remind everyone this is an Irishwoman and she's pulling her punches with me," Simon hollers. Something about it makes me feel like a savage. It winds me up and has me kicking at his knees. It's like he's made of stone. He winds his open palm back and slaps me along the same side of my face. I feel it in my teeth. I taste blood where I bit myself.
He takes my hands in one of his, grinding my wrists together, as he hauls the rest of me onto the table. I buck and he takes a seat. It's enough to dig my tailbone into the weathered wood.
I like being hunted.
My nails are in his arm while he buckles in one of my arms. Though I'm thrashing, I can't get the leverage to get him off me or even knee him in a way that could even hurt a mundane.
He's always been so nice. I knew he knew how to handle himself. He was a Beatnik and later a punk. This, though, is enough I want him to fuck me here to make an example out of what happens to naughty girls. I can't stop from beaming.
Simon whoops once I'm harnessed. He laughs. "Alright, I know that was intense. Rest assured, we're both fine. It wouldn't have been the case if I hadn't bothered going full force against her."
"I was hoping a vampire could put up more of a fight. I'm barely bleeding as it is!" I snap. He and a few others laugh when I snap my jaws at him. Maris kneels beside me and chuckles.
He's shaking out a latex visor now. He lifts me by my hair and I take another look around. No Ichabod. The lights go out. I feel his hand in mine, pressing a plastic rose into my hand. I grip it hard, digging a thorn into my palm, because I don't want to drop it even if I get scared.
"Are you alright, Ellie?" Maris whispers. I nod. "You're doing great. Take a deep breath."
My chest fills with air as I feel a woman pet my face. Her hands are soft and she smells like candy.
"Wow, you're even cuter up close!" the woman gasps affectionately. A part of me falls in love, even as she's teasing me with her dick. I reach for her with my tongue but she tuts. "Now, now, Ellie, we're going to take this slow," she says.
She might be, but I feel a man's hands on my hips. He doesn't give me the same courtesy as the woman is, throwing his leg over mine and pushing into my cunt. I utter a long moan and bite my lip. He's not enormous but I think his cock has a severe curve because I can feel a point of pressure on the roof of my canal I don't typically feel with Ichabod's.
I hear her giggle. "That's so cute. Now, why don't you ask nicely to suck me off?"
"Please, Mommy, lemme--"
She shoves herself deep enough that her testicles knock against my forehead. She isn't huge but she's at the back of my throat and thrusts there gently. It has my legs shaking. I can barely hear them over the raucous of my blood in my ears, the collision of flesh, the creaking of wood.
This stuff has only happened to me in my dreams. Ichabod's always been there to call me a whore.
"You're a happy little whore, aren't you?" the woman teases me. I nod and she smacks my cheek. It makes my ear ring for a moment, but sends tremors through me that makes the man in my legs shudder and escape. It feels like glue is landing on my belly and I like it.
"See, you've already got another fan coming!" Her hand comes on my throat as she continues riding my face like I deserve. I am a happy little whore. I love when people ruin me, they have to see something to ruin to begin with. Ichabod can go ages ruining me. I'll come three times on the wand before he's even finished once because there's just that much to ruin.
Her legs are shaking. I try closing my mouth around her but she pops out from my teeth with glee and empties onto my lips. I think I like the taste of girl cum and I use my tongue to play with the load until I feel a man grabbing my head and jaw.
His head is on my lips and has to be the girth of a dollar coin. Ichabod is pretty large. It's why if I'm blowing him, I have to do so laying on my back, but I don't think there's going to be room for me to breathe with this one.
"Live up to rumor, little meat," he says. I stretch my jaw until it pops and it's still not enough. He's closed up my throat and thrusts hard like I'm a doll. The mindset and dick in my cunt is scratching my most beloved places and I know I'm going to come at least once like this, make no mistake.
The next one up is one of the strap users. I feel silicon on my entryway. I think they're a woman, because they start slow and thumb my clit and men just don't do that. The feeling becomes dull and phantasmal when the man fucking my face pulls out for a moment, enough for me to take a breath, and goes right back at it, hammering my cheek with his leathery palm repeatedly.
My cunt and legs spasm. The feeling starts from my groin and rolls up. Even my chest caves.
I feel the first burst of blood cum down my throat. He's swearing and pulls out, stroking himself, firing onto my chin and then the bridge of my nose. I cough blood, throat burning, and hang onto the rose, shuddering as the strap user rides out my rough, full-body orgasm before popping out.
Brutalization and ecstasy are easy to incorporate here. It's not quite there, yet. I drop the rose. I think Maris stops them. She asks, "What's wrong, dear?"
Cum is dripping into my hairline. I like this. "Is Ichabod here?" I ask.
"Of course, dear. You'll see him in just a moment."
I nod. "Okay. I like that they're hitting me, but I want to be choked, too."
"I'll be sure they do so." With that, she replaces the rose in my hand.
I know the next two are men because they're swift and mean, and have to be reminded to choke me. They feel good but now I feel like there's going to be some time between my own fun if this is what the rest are like.
But it's not all bad. I hear the man pull out and stroke himself. "You could be a porn star, you know?" he says. I grin. His cum lands in my teeth and nostril.
I hear so many people whooping in the crowd, calling me names like whore and stupid and how much better I look with load after load being dumped on me. I feel like old leftovers. I'm supposed to be the main event, but the longer I go without hearing from Ichabod, the less I feel like the main course, and I wonder if he's left me here. I wonder if he's grossed out by me.
It can't be that. We're always doing gross things and he still loves me.
I drop the flower. Simon tells everyone to pull out while I cough up saliva and precum.
"What's wrong, dear?" Maris asks.
I take a moment to catch my breath. "I-Ichabod is here, isn't he?"
There's a moment before Maris presses a kiss to me. I taste her lipstick through a marble of blood and cum and I cry in my mask.
"Of course he is, honey. He'll be here in just a moment."
"Why isn't he up here?" I utter. My eyes are watering.
If that were the case, he'd already be up here having his way with me, but he hasn't. Something isn't right. I don't think this is real. No way this is Alice's doing, but I know Oberon and Titania would be twisted enough to catch me vulnerable in an elaborate sex fantasy. Titania might be smart but it's Oberon that's creative. It's Oberon that's cruel enough to light a vampire on fire and it’s Oberon that’s cruel enough to whip this up.
Which means it's over if they have all four of us. We're probably moments from primordial evil cracking the earth like an egg. I might as well just power through this.
Maris pets my cheek, leaving a trail in the fluid I've been glazed in. She whispers, "He has a surprise for you, okay? Just hold on a minute."
I nod. The rose is returned to my hand. I try to enjoy myself but I don't feel anything anymore. I lose count of how many people have used me. It's like I'm impotent. I don't even try playing with cum and my legs don't even shake.
A man pops out of me. I can barely hear Maris over the sound of my heaving breath and coughing. I've gotten enough blood and cum up my nose to taste it in my sinuses. It kind of burns, and what's worse is I can't even enjoy it. I don't know I'd be able to even with Ichabod up here with me.
"Are you okay, dear?" she asks
I lick my lips. They taste metallic. Nonetheless, I nod. I don't want to make her worry about me.
I think Simon is next to me. He says, "Hi, Ellie. You did great."
I wonder if they had to sell me out. I wonder if they struck a bargain with Oberon: destroy Ellie and live. I wouldn't blame them. I don't like me, either.
"Yes, isn't she a wonderful, brave girl?" Maris says. "Mommy sees how hard you work and I'm so proud of you."
I hum. They don't have to be nice to me, but I should take what I can get.
"Ellie," Simon says, "I have a friend here I think you'll want to play with before we wrap up? He's a big fan of you and loved seeing you up here."
I nod. Of course I nod. Anything for them.
I feel leather on my cheek, cutting through blood and cum dripping into my hair. "Hello, beautiful."
Demons are capable of great magic, aren't they?
"Hi," I tell Oberon. I don't know how he mimics Ichabod's voice, but there's no use fighting it.
"Did you have fun?" Oberon asks. I hear my bindings come undone, and he sits me up, laying me on his chest. The glamour is so thorough that I could recognize this body as Ichabod's from the contours and scars in his chest alone.
He hugs me, smearing cum between our chests and bellies. "I did," I rasp.
"I'm glad." My leg bindings are undone and he drags me off the table. He has to help me stand. I hear applause over my roaring ears.
Maybe this is just their version of kindness. There's worse things than dying in a lover's arms, even if this isn't my Ichabod.
"Well that's unfortunate." Oberon slips his fingers through my hair, "because I don't think you've satisfied the rest of our friends."
He clenches and flings me forward. I yelp, grasping my hair as close to my scalp as I can to keep it from tearing off me. "I mean, look at this whore! Only seventeen people and how many of you all actually got a good look at her? How many of you actually heard her?"
"Oh god," I whimper. So much for impotence. I thought I was done for the night, but apparently I have a lot more in me.
I decide that, even if this is just a trick, it's nice of Oberon to at least take a look at us to see what I like. It's a gentle death. An easy death.
There's whopping and encouragement. If I wasn't being thrown around, it'd have my legs shaking.
"That's right, you've got a lot more to do for us, Ellie," Oberon throws me over the back of the table and upright again. Cum has been flung pretty much everywhere on the platform, and these sneakers are old enough that they have little traction left. I'm slipping around until he gets my leg up onto the wood. The thorns are digging into my palm as I'm tossed around like a doll.
"Go on, let them know what a whore you are!" he bellows. He pushes me over the table, face down, and canes my cunt. Hard. A delighted screech rips from me before I even feel it coming. "A little bit of choking and smacking around isn't nearly enough to get you off, isn't it? We've gotta make it a chore. Throw you around, hate you, beat the crap out of you before you're even wet. You're invited into a house of generous men and that's what you serve them?"
"I'm sorry!" I yelp. He's got my arms bent around my back and canes me again. My cunt and my rear sting, and I feel strings of cum pull away and fall from the cane over my thighs.
"Are you sorry?" Another strike and I scream out with delight. "Seventeen people, Ellie, and you're still going. Is anything good enough for you?"
"No, Sir!" Momentarily, I forget this is Oberon. This is kindness he's giving me. "I'm sorry, Sir!"
"That's not good enough." He takes my hair again whipping me up. "You think these people came here for an apology? They came here to be entertained!"
"I-I'm sorry, I'll do better!" I gasp.
"How're you going to do that, Ellie?"
I can picture everyone crowding around me for a turn, pushing and pulling for a chance, tearing off what little I have and using it until there's nothing left. Even as I'm a mess, the runts still find something in me to fuck.
"I'll take-- I'll everyone!" I gasp. "Whoever wants me!"
I'm thrown into the table again. I'm scrambling to stand, but between my legs and the cum, I can't get traction outside of hanging off it for dear life. Good thing it's bolted down.
The cane clatters to the floor. "You would, wouldn't you? That's the only thing that makes you happy, isn't it? Being used up and discarded like trash."
"Yes, Sir!"
He takes me by my ankle and throws it over his arm. The way he's got me, bending my leg up until I have to crunch my hip to my rib, makes me stand on his shoe, lest I dangle freely. Even then, it's not ideal. I'm still slipping off it so he has to bind my arms behind his head to keep me from falling.
His dick is massive. It's just like Ichabod's. I feel it against my cunt. When he gets it in, I scream, taking it in until I feel his base between my cheeks, and I holler my thanks.
There's very few men who can satisfy women this way. Nothing's right about the position, but the way Ichabod is, the way Oberon correctly glamours him, is that he's thick enough to get a girl off from any angle.
I know this isn't the man I love but it is the best sex I've had tonight. I'm not leftovers, I'm the main course, and I hate that it isn't with the man I've grown to love. I feel pathetic and ecstatic. I feel wanted. I feel magma in my cunt.
"Tell them how much of a whore you are, Ellie," he commands. It's guttural and hoarse.
"I-I showed my boyfriend my tits before I told him I loved him! I fingered-- oh god!-- I fingered myself right after we met because I couldn't stop thinking about how--" I'm screaming my near orgasm. It feels like I'm softening. Everything spasms. I utter deep moans. Everything is white hot inside of me.
Cum spurts onto my belly. I can feel it splattering between my cramping. Moments later, he gently slips his arm out from under my leg. I'm shaking. My legs are burning. He catches me and sets me onto the table.
I remember this isn't Ichabod. I remember the speech Simon gives isn't real, and whatever sweet nothings Maris is uttering in my ear are likely the last thing I'll hear.
At least the glamour compliments me. My head is on Oberon's chest and I'm smiling at the noise. Time is foggy. I don't know why Oberon is being so tender but gift horse, mouth… I know the drill.
Simon says, "Alright, our friend Ellie asked for a photo of the aftermath, so if I could have anyone who doesn't want to show up in this photo-- yup, just step to the side aaand smile, Ellie!"
I manage to smile. I don't think it's a very big one. It drops once I hear the shutter anyway.
"Are you ready to take a shower?" Oberon asks. I nod. "Can you walk?"
I slip onto my feet and immediately buckle. He grunts, scoops me off, and drapes me like curtains over him. I don't remove the eye mask. I don't want to see whatever horrors await me in this so-called shower.
Now's as good of a time as ever to ask what happened to Ichabod, at least.
"What did you do with my boyfriend?" I murmur.
"I'm sorry, Ellie, I don't take your meaning."
"Oberon, please don't do this... I've been cooperative. I just want to know what you did with Ichabod."
He swears and hollers for Maris and Simon. I scrunch my face to keep from crying. I got them in trouble. Why am I like this? Why is everyone I love punished by my mere presence? I should've cut my tongue out when I first met this horrible man so he could never use anything I say against my loved ones again.
I'm sat in a chair in a small, tiled room. I know it's tiled because I can hear my breath echo.
"I have no idea what happened. She's asking what happened to me," I hear Oberon say.
"Ellie?" Maris is to my right. "Can you hear me?"
I nod. "I'm sorry I got you and Simon into this." My voice breaks and I feel my lip wobble. "I-I didn't mean to. I promise."
She's petting my hair. "Honey, where do you think we are?"
I shake my head. "I don't know." I suck in air and blubber. "I don't know. Probably someplace fucking twisted. Someplace we're all gonna die in." My tears are freed of the mask. "Do you know what they did with Ichabod?"
"You mean Oberon?" she asks.
"Ellie, he's not here--" Oberon is cut off and goes quiet.
"You're not with them, honey. You're with us at Vixxen, remember?" she says.
"Ellie, was it something I did?"
"Ichabod, I understand you're very concerned right now, but give me a minute to work, okay? She's just scared."
I squeeze my eyes and fall on Maris's chest. "Please don't hurt my friend. I'll be good, I promise," I sob.
"It's just us at Vixxen. No one is going to hurt you."
I hear the door open and I nearly jump out of my skin. Screaming and crying, I lunge into Maris's arms. She pets my back.
"It's okay. It's just Simon, honey."
I shake my head. "Nooo... not him. I'm sorry. Please, I'll do whatever you want, just let them go," I beg.
"What's happening here?" Simon asks.
"I think she was frightened and thinks we're elsewhere. She seems to think Oberon is here and is going to hurt us," Maris tells him.
"Ohhh... Ellie, no. I'm sorry. Here, let me get your mask off."
"No!" My hands fly onto my head and I try to run. Maris grabs me and pulls me over her lap. "No, this isn't real. I don't want to see what's happening. I-I had a great night, a-and I'm grateful you and Titania gave that to me, so please, I'm begging you, just leave it at that and kill me already, okay?"
"Ellie, can you hear me, honey?" Maris says. I feel her brushing my hair. She lays my head on my shoulder. "Do you remember what I told you about illusory magic? More specifically, how I dispel it?" I nod. "Okay. I'm going to need your help with it, then. Are you ready?"
"I don't know how that's going to help."
"You're my friend. Can you humor me for a moment?"
Of course I can.
We whisper the incantation. I feel magic in the air.
"Alright. All illusory effects are gone now. I can see we're in Vixxen. Oberon isn't here. It's just us and our friends."
I pant. "H-he's not making you say that, right?"
"Of course not."
I nod. My hands are shaking when I reach back to pull off my mask. I think it's Simon that frees the knot.
I squint against the light. I've been suspended in darkness and now it feels like I'm on the ground. My blood roars while my eyes adjust, so I lift my hand to visor them.
I'm in a cosexed restroom with Maris, Ichabod, and Simon. I feel safe. I feel stupid.
I look at my feet. My shoes have a nonzero amount of cum on the soles and the toes. I don't know what to say. It's like my voice is locked up.
"Ellie, are you back at Vixxen?" Maris asks, and I nod. "Alright. I have Ichabod here, and he's safe." I nod. "Do you want to talk to him?"
I shake my head. He's going to hate me after this. I thought he was the enemy and I came, hard, while I was utterly convinced of that. I wouldn't want to be my girlfriend after that either.
"What's on your mind?"
I gnaw on my lip before whispering, "He's going to be mad that I came when I thought he was Oberon."
"Well, you don't know that. Why don't we ask him?" Maris turns to Ichabod. My heart lurches into my throat but I'm still locked up. "Ichabod, are you upset with Ellie that she thought you were Oberon?"
I see him shuffle in place. He's got his arms crossed and rubs his face. "No! No. This is my fault. I should've-- I should've done--" He closes and shakes his fist. "I'm sorry. That's not how I wanted this to go."
"I'm sorry I ruined your night," I croak. "I-I didn't see you or hear you so I thought you left or were taken."
"No, Ellie," he says, sweeping my hands into his as he kneels. "I would never leave you." I know we're covered in blood and cum, but this feels so romantic. "This was your night. I know you've wanted a crowd, and I know you want to be roughed up, and I wanted to surprise you with that. I shouldn't have done that."
"Then where were you? Why didn't you let me know, like, anything?" I sniff.
"In fairness," Simon says, "I'm also at fault. I knew about this plan and thought it was a good idea when it's clearly against literally every safety guideline ever."
I shake my head. I shouldn't be mad that Ichabod wanted to surprise me, anyway. "It was thoughtful. I shouldn't have freaked out." I run my thumb over Ichabod's. "I mean, it was fun. I liked the roughness. I liked the mess. Ichabod's follow up was," I smile and blush, "um... it was pretty spectacular." Maris chuckles and tucks my hair behind my ear. "I thought I'd feel weird about having sex around, like, friends, but this was liberating. It was fun."
"Yeah. I mean, I was around for the free love and the orgies, but this place is different. It's a place where we can get away from all that... that Protestant, puritanical nonsense, and really be us. I'm just disappointed we couldn't give you the first you deserve," Simon says.
"I'm okay." I lean my head on Ichabod's. I kind of like that we're still covered in cum. "I wish I could've taken a picture of, like, the initial ruination. I bet I look amazing."
"I can confirm you were beautiful before and after I came on stage," Ichabod says as he pets my thighs.
"What we should all be truly surprised by is how nude Ichabod is. I don't think I've seen him like this ever," Maris says. She's right, of course. He's still wearing his garters, socks, and shoes, but he isn't wearing pants or an undershirt. Just an open button up and his tie over his shoulders.
"Oh yeah," Simon says, "you've even rolled up your sleeves. I thought you didn't want people to know about the phalloplasty."
"It's an afterthought," he confesses. I'm glad he's comfortable being open about his gender here. I know it makes him nervous.
"Well, you guys should sho--"
I interrupt Simon with a gasp. "Oh my god, I don't think you got a turn!"
"No, he did," Maris says. "You must've been really out of it. I'm sorry I didn't catch it."
"It's fine," I say, smiling and hugging her. She rubs my back. I'm really lucky to have friends who look out for me like this.
We shower. Maris and I both have blood and cum in our hair that needed the both of us and Ichabod to comb out. Ichabod had the forethought to bring a change of clothes for the two of us, so we're good as new. I am, without a doubt, lucid now, and still a little embarrassed.
"Well, that was effervescent." Maris stretches outside and lights a cigarette. I take a puff off her lighter.
"Thanks for everything you did for me today, Maris," I say.
"You're my friend. You did a lot for me today, too," she says. "I like nurturing people. I mean... I like nurturing women, I like babying men, but that's more about control. I feel softer with women. It's not something I can always express in the coven."
"It sounds complicated."
"Be grateful to be born a psychic, Ellie. Life gets complicated when every channel is open to you." She kisses my hair. "But you were really wonderful up there. I saw Ichabod in one of the front seats when you were blindfolded. He couldn't sit still."
I smile. "He likes when I make problems for him."
"He does. I think... I think he feels like he's missing out on a lot, and it makes him upset. I think this, what you give him, is a measure of control. I think it's the closest he'll come to embracing what he is for the time being."
I take a long drag. I've noticed the same. We're the perfect kind of fucked up for each other.
Ichabod, the proprietor, and Simon emerge fully dressed. They boys wave the proprietor off and join us.
"Sorry for the wait. It took awhile to clean up," Simon says. I swell with pride, like the mess is my fault because I'm just that desirable. "Who's riding with who?"
"I'm going to moonbathe... unless Ellie needs a ride home," Maris says.
"Simon, would you mind terribly if you took Ellie home? I'm sure Maris would like to enjoy the moon as soon as possible." Ichabod asks. I wrap my arms around his bicep.
"Not at all."
Maris and I hug goodbye. I crawl into the backseat of Simon's car. I think for a moment that Ichabod isn't going to sit with me until I realize he's just adjusting the seat up as far as he can. He buckles in the middle seat and throws his arm around me.
"So, Ellie, how was your first time?" Simon asks.
"I liked it. I want to come back," I tell him. "I'm pretty embarrassed I just... checked out so hard though."
"It's not uncommon. Subspace and sub drop are gnarly forces," he says. "Back in my day, before you could Dom, you had to learn how to sub. I've had my shit wrecked and been perfectly gleeful, and minutes later, I'd be in the arms of whoever was domming and feel completely hollow inside. It's why aftercare is so important. And not just for subs, you know. I think I need more aftercare after doing something like blood play to someone instead of when I receive it."
I frown and look to Ichabod. "O-oh." I lick my lips. "Y... you don't feel bad, right?"
Ichabod says, "I worry sometimes, but I can't bring myself to feel guilty over it. You're smiling whenever we're doing... this."
"Truth be told, your sub drop wasn't even that bad. I've seen people cut themselves or frenzy after scenes. Terrible things," Simon follows up. "You're a special girl, Ellie. Everyone who played with you today had a great time. You were a great case study of what rougher play can look like."
I feel like I'm glowing.
Simon parks in front of my complex. I hug him through the window.
"Thanks for having me, Simon. I hope we can come again soon," I tell him.
"Let's try something without the blindfold, okay? And I'll be sure Ichabod sticks around. Good night, you two."
I don't realize how exhausted I am until I pass the threshold of my house. I groan, throw off my shoes, and shamble to my bed.
"You're welcome to some hangers if you need to put up your suit," I tell Ichabod. I switch the bedside lamp on and the ceiling light off. My covers are deliciously soft.
I like seeing Ichabod undress. I think this is how Victorians felt. It's not about nudity. I mean, part of it is, but it's the act of undressing. It's about seeing his body twist so I can enjoy his every angle and sinew. I like his chest and upper back. I like his arms. I know the surgical scars turn some people off, but it's hard for Ichabod to be comfortable in his body, especially as it starts to turn. I think this helps.
He slips under the covers with me. "I think I have a t-shirt that'll fit you if you want me to grab it," I say.
"Thank you, but I'm fine, Ellie." He lays on his back and pulls me onto his side. His fist wraps around my shoulder. This man can be throwing me around like his mortal enemy one moment and gently caress me the next, and I love that about him. I kiss his neck chaste.
"Mmm... I love you, Ellie," he says. He squeezes me and rubs my upper arm. "You really were beautiful up there. You're always beautiful, but it really goes to my head when I see you're having fun." I hear his palm scrape across his head. "I... I know you miss out on a lot because of the way I am."
"What? Like cunnilingus?" I ask.
"Cunnilingus, date nights, not being constantly vigilant of the looming shadow of death."
I tell him, "I mean, I guess. I feel so... at place when we work. I know I can be honest and should be more honest with you, especially when it comes to our proclivities... and who cares if you don't have a mouth? Do you know how hard it is to get a girl to come on your dick? Do you know how many men would get all possessive if their girl blew through like twenty people in a night in front of a crowd?" I push myself onto my arms and tuck my legs. I place my hand on his heart. "I know it's hard, but… I love all of you, Ichabod."
I feel his gaze on me. His hands are soft, petting my cheek with his knuckle.
"I want to go there again," I tell him. "The first time's never easy. I want you to come with me this time."
"Ellie, I don't think we'd be able to synchronize our orgasms there, either."
"I meant to Vixxen," I giggle.
"I can certainly abide that. Though... I think we should re-litigate blindfolds. I was very worried about you," he says. "Oh, that reminds me." He sits up and grabs his phone off the table. "It's a little blurry, but I think you'll enjoy it."
I completely forgot about the photo. Truth be told, I'm excited to see the aftermath.
He turns his phone to me. Myself, he, and Maris are covered in patches of smeared or sagging rose-colored blood cum. My hair's caked to my head and I see streaks of it flung over the floor from when Ichabod threw me about. I see our cum on his cock, still leaking in strings. It's disgusting. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful. I'm desirable.
"Wow," I smile. My face is warm. "D-did people really like that?"
"I saw a few people who were occupied," he says. I grin.
"M-maybe you can collar me next time? I could be a little kitty."
He shudders. "Careful, Ellie. I only came once."
I bite my lip. I can see him twitching through his briefs.
"I could be a kitty now. I know you're a cat person." I flip the table lamp back on. "I guess kitties don't wear clothes, though, do they?"
Ichabod shifts his hips. "I haven't the slightest idea how you could possibly want to go again today." He says it with fascination and need. He says it while blowing air, like he's trying to keep himself from pouncing me.
I shimmy out of my shirt. I feel his gaze on my tits, and his hand lurches forward, dragging his palm down my breast. I grin.
"Mrow," I tease, crawling forward. He shakes when I take a long, languid lap at his Adam's apple, going as far as tilting his head back.
"Ah," he utters breathily. "I thought cats had rough tongues."
I’m a cat, so I can’t reply in human language. I don’t have opposable digits either. I have claws that scratch his briefs while I meow.
I'm a cat, so I twist on all fours, presenting my rear while I lap his chest and belly. I use my nose to nudge his boxers. I feel his tension. He's holding back. He always does this. He wants me to break him the way he throws me around.
I feel his hand creep up and down my bare back. Tense. Rock solid, just like his dick. I scent mark his crotch on my cheeks, purring as he twitches, and then I mount his chest while I drag my flat tongue down his shaft, tasting the cotton between us.
I'm a simple kitty and he's a big cat. A lion.
“You’re so fucking needy,” he rumbles, splaying his hands over my ass, down my thighs, and back up again, and I know he's close to his breaking point. It's the only time he gets vulgar. My pussy twitches with the endearment. I know people say it to be mean, and I like it when they're mean. I like when I drive people crazy. "A cocktease, shaking your pussy up here like you own the place.
"You know how hard it was to keep from storming that stage and fucking you there?" he growls. I find his glans and give them a kiss, before taking his underwear in my teeth and dragging it down. He pops out, smacking me in the face. I'm a cat, so I'm startled, and hop in place. He takes my paws and pins them to my sides, keeping me from hopping all over the room. Sending me face-first into his dick to lap like sweet cream.
Ichabod doesn't produce waste. The only thing that seems to come out of him is his blood cum, which makes sense for an animated corpse. I've grown to appreciate the taste and gently tongue the opening. It twitches to kiss me back.
"I wanted to throw everyone off you and demonstrate that you're mine." I feel his chains wrap around my wrists. "I wanted to show them I'm the only thing you'll be coming home to, night after night, and you're only giving them the time of day because I say you can." This elicits a moan from me. I'm slick just from his dirty talk.
I'm a cat, so I want his sweet cream. I pull my knees up to my shoulders so I'm better supported while I start to blow him. I like how velvety he is. I like how he twitches even though I can only take in a couple inches in this position. I hear his chest rattle and his fist bounce off the headboard. Almost there. I'll get as much sweet cream as I can, I just need to break him.
My lips drag down his shaft, cradling his length in my neck, and kiss his sac. His hips lurch. I suction one of his testicles past my teeth and it's now he bucks me off.
"You’re going to get what you want now, Ellie,," he rumbles, pulling me upright by my wrists and throwing me onto my belly. "I'm going to fuck you like a breeding sow."
I'm a cat, so I chirp and writhe. He's always been stronger than me, though, so he's thrashing me around by my throat. I rub my ass on his cock and I hear his heavy breath on me until he's able pull my shorts down and get himself inside.
There's nothing quite like being strangled while fucked merciless. He'd be spitting between his teeth if he had them, and I'd be moaning loud enough to warrant a noise complaint if my airway wasn't constricted. I'm warm all over but my cunt's an oven. My cunt's hot coals and he's stoking them to start a bonfire.
"It's only fun when you piss me off, isn't it, Ellie? When you push and push until I'm pushed over the edge. Is that what you want?" he scolds. His ire sounds like lust and I know I have the dopiest grin. "You want to piss me off until I fuck you stupid?"
I'm supposed to be a cat but it seems he's fucked human speech into me, "Yes, Sir," I rasp. My buttocks sting deliciously from his fervor.
"Y'know what I should've done instead of trying to treat you someplace night? I should've taken you someplace seedy and paraded-- paraded you on a leash, so you'd appreciate what I gave you. You think a single one of those fuckers can ever make you come like I do?"
"Ichabod, please," I beg, "punish me for being a bad girlfriend. I want to be your punching bag."
"Yeah, you want me to hit you until you're dripping cum down your thighs, aren’t you, whore?"
I'm a flash flood when he's like this, completely overtaken and moaning softly while he continues to pound me like a machine. This man has to be a god, or at least god's gift to women.
I whine as he pulls out and turns me over onto my back. My legs are thrown over his shoulders, and then his hands are back on my throat while he fucks me. I think my orgasm is just ongoing like this because it all feels just amazing. Amazing enough my vision flutters in and out while my eyes roll into my skull.
Ichabod is panting like this is a marathon. He's stopped taunting me, so I lick my lips and smile, knowing he's maybe moments from climax, closer now that he's braced himself with one of his hands next to my head.
His pace breaks. He's balls deep, then nearly out, then halfway inside. I see his arm shake. "I love you, Ichabod," I coo, and he grunts, rolling his hips into me while he pumps me with his cum.
Then his arm gives. His head is next to mine, hand retracting to trace my side with his fingertips. His magic gives. Once I shimmy my arms out from under me, and once I take my calves off him, I wrap him in a full body hug.
It takes Ichabod a minute to catch his breath. He sits up and pulls his partial out from me. I feel my canal twitch and flex with its new emptiness.
"I apologize. I got caught up in the moment," he murmurs.
"I'm okay. I should have wet wipes in the bathroom for the exterior. I-I'll need help with the interior," I say.
"Of course, Ellie," he coos. "Do you need help standing?"
I don't, but I cross my legs so I don't get blood cum on the linens, and he picks me up again. He kicks open the toilet and sets me down.
It's easy to push out the majority of it. While I let it drip into the john, Ichabod kneels and hugs me. I rub his back.
"That was nice," I sigh wistfully. I feel his fingertips in the dimple of my spine.
"I don't love you just for the sex," he whispers. "It's amazing. You're amazing. There's... there's so many reasons I have to love you. I didn't realize what living was like before you came into my life, Ellie."
I kiss his neck. Chaste. "I love you too, Ichabod. Thank you for everything." I'd love him with or without this.
I wrote a piece of interactive fiction for @brandonwritesgames's DieselJam on Itch! Consider playing it if you like alternative history, dieselpunk, medical horror, or queer girls having A Bad Time.
Ester by @daisofthenight / Paige by Hornettecco / Everlovin' Blue Eyed Kidd by Doomyboy / Natatlie by @thevoidwatches / Daykryi by DJayDaykri / Anubis by SparkyDaParrot
Fandom: Bleach
Characters; Karin Kurosaki, Toushirou Hitsugaya, Momo Hinamori
Pairings: HitsuKarin-centric, mentions of RenShuuKiraHina
Words: 5.7k
Summary: It's over now. Karin reflects on her first day in the afterlife.
Warnings: References of suicide & self-injury
AO3: works/54973525/chapters/166026280
A/N: Written for HitsuKarin Week 2025.
Karin wakes to a real shitty feeling. Drowning and drunkenness have made her stiff as a board. She can't think of a time she's paced herself.
Sitting up, she smacks her lips, lights up a smoke, and finds a washroom to wash up in. There's no shower here so she decides to bathe later. The smell of breakfasts wafts upstairs and she finds Renji in a woman's kimono making mackerel and miso. She ought to greet him, but all she knows about Renji is he's Ichigo's friend and Momo's husband. How she fits into that relationship map isn't something she cares to find out today.
Luckily, Momo enters before Renji sees Karin. Karin likes Momo. They've god a complicated vibe, like a tender scar and a forest fire, a snarling animal and mother cat. Mostly mother cat when Momo smiles at her.
"Your head must be pounding," Momo says. "My brother said you had excellent tolerance, but I've never seen a teenager, um... how's it said?" Momo asks Renji.
"Ichigo usually says he's 'throwing it back.'"
"Yes, that," Momo says. "Sit, dear, let's get some food in you. I have a concoction that should help your head."
Karin hums and sits. Toushirou must not have told them what happened last night. He's pretty private.
"I apologize for the trouble I've caused you."
"Nonsense. I've long made tintcures."
"Could me an apothecary if you weren't an officer," Renji agrees.
"What's a tincture?" she asks.
"Medicine. Old wisdom," Momo replies. "How did you sleep?"
Karin's food is slipped to her on a tray. She tries to remember the last time she had mackerel with the head still on.
Momo kisses Renji when he turns back to the burner. There's a flex of energy, then Shuuhei hollers from down the hall that he'll be coming in a moment. Reiatsu as a means of communication is an interesting prospect.
Karin is sipping from her soup when Shuuhei comes in. His kimono is open at his chest and she sees the edges of top surgery scars reaching towards his sternum. It's nice knowing she isn't the only queer here, at least, though four people married to each other should've been a decent giveaway.
"Mornin', baby," Shuuhei says, bending over the counter to kiss Renji when he's given breakfast. "Izuru said he's coming back later with dinner groceries." He then takes a seat and pats her shoulder. "How was your first night in the Soul Society, Karin?" he asks.
She shrugs. "Everything's a blur." It's not a total lie, at least, she just remembers the worst of it.
"I don't know anyone who does remember their first night," Renji says.
"We've gotten old," Momo chuckles.
Karin wants to tell them how raw she is but decides to shovel rice into her mouth. They've got a good dynamic. Individually, they're busted pieces, but their jagged edges slide easily into each other.
"What time are you guys heading out today?" Shuuhei asks.
Momo has dumped herbs and concentrations into a small pot over the burner by now. "Once this is finished. There's a lot to do today. Myself, Taichou, and Shirou-kun have to take you, Karin, to Shinoureijutsuin to sort out some paperwork, and you'll have to take an aptitude test."
Karin wracks her brain for who Momo's superior is. There were so many fucking blonde men last night.
"Um, why does he need to come?"
"Well, I wanted to keep you in my division after you graduate so it's easier for you to acclimate here. You'll have only been here six years by that point with no professional experience. Unfortunately, that's something only captains can file for."
Karin clears her throat. She meant Toushirou, but can't bring herself to clarify.
Momo pours a strawberry-colored concoction into a small cup for Karin. "Drink this," she says. Karin tries not to scowl. It smells awful.
"What's the assessment look like for my... circumstances, anyway?" she asks, then dives in. Yep. Awful.
"I took a written and then a practical, and I graduated into a seated position. Hitsugaya was an exception. He did well, but it was imperative he learn to control his reiatsu, so it was more a matter of placement than acceptance." Shuuhei rubs his stubble. "I imagine it'll be similar for you, though you seem to have significantly better control over your own powers than he did starting out."
"It was a quite a match to see who got her," Momo says.
"Oh? I wasn't there for that," Shuuhei says.
"It was pretty gnarly. Zaraki thought she'd make a promising opponent, but Soutaichou nipped that in the bud for obvious reasons," Momo says.
"We never got the option for that," Renji says. "Taichou didn't gripe at least." Momo is about to speak when he holds his hand up. "I know the reasons why. I was just contributing."
Karin has no idea who either of those people are. Her head is hurting less, at least.
"Gobantai has been the institution of learning for eons. It was where most of us got our start. She'll be made into a fine officer for another squadron after a few years, but it's the only place she isn't going to be exploited... or worse." Momo, Renji, and Shuuhei shudder at the same time.
"Niibantai and juuniibantai would've been... bad," Shuuhei agrees.
"I mean, Iba's division wouldn't be awful. We're friends with him, at least," Renji says.
"I have no idea what half this shit is," Karin says. "Nothing was explained to me. I mean... I had Urahara and Tsukabishi's kids to learn about reishi and kishi, and I picked up a lot just by fighting hollows, but... am I gonna learn about all this?"
Momo chuckles. "Apologies, Karin-chan. This must be confusing. I can tell you about the division and upper echelon later, but it's a substantial crash course. It's not something we can cover this second.
"But... I should mention you shouldn't wander without one of us. Zaraki, captain of juuichibantai, is a killing machine for recreation, and Kurotsuchi of juuniibantai is a fucking bastard who would likely try to dissect you on the spot."
Karin drums her fingers. "I'm sure I could take Zaraki in a fight, though... I don't care to be dissected."
Renji and Shuuhei cock their eyebrows but say nothing. Instead, Renji says, "Thank god none of that shit is in the assessment," Renji says. "Could you imagine having to test on the Invasion as a prospective cadet?"
"Oh, those really were nine days of Hell," Momo groans. "I still end up not sleeping for two or three days straight because of it."
Karin chooses the squash her curiosity for now and finish up breakfast. She'll show them how dangerous she is in the assessment.
Momo changes Karin into yukata and monpe once breakfast and cleanup is finished. They're pretty comfortable, but the yukata is very floral and pastel. She's surprised Renji is so effeminate at home, since he's so burly and sullen every time she's seen him in the World of the Living. They smoke on their way to the academy, a decent walk. The sun has eeked over the horizon but it's still pretty quiet, all considered. Late to bed and early to rise is the schedule of madmen. At least she'll fit in. God knows she'll subsist of cigarettes and vending machine coffee until it kills her.
Shinoureijutsuin is a towering building. There's three stories before the pagoda even start. A handful of people are milling about, but it's still pretty early and mostly vacant. Toushirou is nearby, though, as well as another presence she recognizes yet can't place.
God, this is going to be nerve-wracking. How is she supposed to act around someone she just dumped and still loves? Will he still sponsor her? Is he going to scream at her what a dick she is for breaking his heart dozens his times over, only to shatter it? She can't bring herself to blame him in any of scenarios she concocts. There's no arguing she's a prick.
Toushirou is outside the admissions office with his arms folded. Karin briefly meets his eyes before he's hugged by Momo.
"Hello, dear," Momo says.
"Hi, nee-chan." Karin grimaces at his response. It's all pain and confusion under that layer of ice.
"You look so tired." Momo kisses her teeth and massages the dark circles under his eyes. "We kept you up late, no?"
One of the blond men Karin saw last night is now here. Right. Shinji Hirako. He's got a weird topsy turvy feel. No insomuch a funhouse, but a death spiral she's seen ants do online. It's weird being around killers with such warmth and hospitality.
"Morning," Shinji yawns. His neck pops when he tilts his head. "Good to see you on your feet, Karin-chan. You're quite young for someone who can handle their booze."
She shrugs. "I won't pretend I was an angel in life."
"Ah, I dunno anyone like that," he grins.
"There will be time for pleasantries later," Toushirou says.
This would be normal for Toushirou were he not in the presence of people he held in high regard, namely Momo. He really was just a cunt once upon a time but he's warmed up since. Said it was her who thawed him out. He's frozen all over again.
There's a wall between them. A membrane she can push against, stretching the bias grain, but unable to yield beyond. This is her fault. She stands by her decision. It's not fair to him he keep mopping up her blood.
They remove their sandals in the genkan and step inside. The secretary welcomes them with warm, frothed coffee and leads them to a small conference room. Karin wonders if Momo's disdain for tea is well known in the Soul Society.
"Iemasa-sama will be here shortly. Please enjoy the coffee in the meantime."
Karin gently sips from her cup. It's burnt. Momo and Shinji manage to take polite sips, whereas Toushirou pounds it with nothing more than a grimace.
"Thank you, dear," Momo says. "When do exams begin?"
"About two hours from how, Hinamori-sama," the secretary replies.
"And will we finish before the starting time?"
The secretary adjusts her glasses. "This is the first sponsorship and unit claim I've seen since I started here, but I imagine it won't take long. I've reviewed the paperwork and the sponsorship would take the longest, since it requires a passage for justification."
"Certainly. Thank you for your input, dear."
The secretary leaves. Toushirou's polished off his cup by now, but she, Momo, and Shinji have put theirs aside.
"That was effervescent," Shinji sardonically remarks.
"The art of coffee is lost on our generations, Taichou."
"You guys are just prissy. It was fine for its purpose,"
"Mahhh... no longer interested in living a little?" Momo teases.
Karin tries to withhold a grimace. Toushirou's poker face is a lot better than hers, but he's sore.
"I've got a lot of work to do," Toushirou scoffs.
"Ain't that the truth. Did you see that shit we got from ichibantai? I dunno what Ise's doin', but these performance reviews are gonna kill me."
"It's just for the seated officers..." Toushirou sighs and pinches his sinuses. "Ugh. I need more coffee."
A balding man with a thin beard slides open the door. They each stand, bow, and return to their seats.
"Thank you for joining us so early in the morning, Iemasa-san," Momo says.
"Truth be told, I agreed because of Kurosaki-san's relation to our savior."
Karin is about to explain that she was disowned when Toushirou says, "We would appreciate that be kept classified information for now. Her education is of utmost importance, and we don't want interference from bad actors attempting to get back at Kurosaki-san."
"Of course, sir." Iemasa clears his throat and sorts through papers. He slides Toushirou a small stack. "These are the young lady's sponsorship papers. We need a short explanation why Gotei's leadership is waiving traditional application for the student, and then signatures from you and the student."
Toushirou leans forward. Karin peers over to see what he writes after he's dipped a brush into ink.
The student「Karin Kurosaki」has demonstrated initiative, resourcefulness, and competence that would prove to be an excellent asset to the guard, provided her skills are refined through formal training at Shinoureijutsuin.
Signed, Toushirou Hitsugaya
Karin is all of those things but it's like a knife in chest. He's a such a loyalist and she's such a dick to him no matter what she does. Karin has to swallow a lump in her throat while signing.
"Fantastic. Thank you, Hitsugaya-taichou," the admissions officer says. He straightens out the papers and sets them aside. "Now, Hirako-taichou, this paperwork is to lay official claim to the student upon graduation. We will need several signatures here."
Hirako scrawls his name repeatedly. Karin only catches glances of the fine print. It's all boring shit, thankfully. "Finally, I will need the student's confirmation here," the officer says while pointing. Karin scrawls her name as well. "And that's everything we need. Thank you all for your patience."
"Excellent. Thank you, Officer," Momo says. "When can we expect Karin-chan's results from the aptitude test?"
"No sooner than a day or so. Grading the written test takes awhile, but the practical is graded during the match."
"And her uniform?"
"With the results of the aptitude test."
"Excellent. What about her asauchi?"
"We cannot mail those." The admissions officer adjusts his glasses. "Those are given on site at the first day of the semester."
"I'm sure you've gleaned that we're very invested in Karin-chan's education. Is there a possibility we can, perhaps, pick one up after the exam?"
"Sadly, no. They simply haven't been forged yet."
"Noted." Momo stands, and the rest of them follow, bowing in unison. "Thank you for your time, Iemasa-san. Have a lovely day."
"Thank you, Iemasa-sensei," Karin follows.
"It was an honor to serve."
They leave his office. Shinji bids them adieu. Toushirou and Karin stare at each other while she tries to muster a goodbye, but it sticks in her throat and he ends up leaving without a word to her.
Momo seems to be oblivious to this, which Karin is grateful for. "Alright. We've still got some time before your test, so lets stop by a clothing store so we can get clothes your size," Momo says.
The Seireitei's clothing outlets are kind of what she expected. Karin can't bring herself to utter much, nonetheless, as Momo holds yukata against her until she's made to try a select handful on. It's kind of a blur while she ruminates and tests the tightness of her bosom and the coverage of her backside. It's nice to have options for alterations as well, since most mass-produced clothes don't fit her.
She ruminates while wrapping herself in cotton. Logically, she's sure this will resolve itself. She's seen this in her peers during high school, where whatever drama occurred resolved itself in a week. Karin knows her recovery won't take a week, but it has to follow the same model. But what if she doesn't want it to be resolved naturally? Why can't she be allowed to have everything? Why does she have to be toxic waste that ruins everything and everyone she loves?
Is she going to ruin her room and board? Her relationship with her hosts? Is she going to ruin her education and any chance at her career here? Should she have just given up on what she wanted out of life and gone to medical school?
She takes a shuddering breath and turns away from the mirror. It's hard to look at herself right now.
Karin's dressed in a gray jinbei and wrap when they leave. The one Renji loaned her is in the bag. She's nervous and looks forward to the exam. It'll be nice to do the practical, at least. She's got ample experience to exercise.
The test doesn't take place on Shinoureijutsuin's campus. Just north of it. It's a towering dome so tall she has to tilt her head back to get a sense of where it ends. It's like a sports stadium, only larger, which makes sense. Melee can be easily contained, but kidou and powers like her own are a different ballpark.
Though, her fellow applicants don't seem to be anything remarkable. She won't complain about being the big fish here, but she gets the sense it's going to be a very boring education.
Momo stops at one of the entryways. "Okay. You're going into the written test from here, and then they'll call seat numbers for the practical. It's usually one-on-one with a combat instructor so I advise you go all in."
Karin nods. "Are we being supplied with weapons?" She has ideas formulating.
"I believe they provide a small selection of bladed weapons, but it's nothing spectacular. Use the katana if you chose to use a weapon. They're standard-issue, it's better to get used to them sooner rather than later."
Karin inhales to soothe her nerves. She wishes she thought to ask to visit a shrine ahead of time. The Soul Society isn't big on religion from what she's been told, but she can't be the only Buddhist out here in need of kami guidance.
"I'll be watching the practical exam. I have faith you'll breeze through both stages, but only proctors are allowed in the testing area."
She smiles as Momo worries over her. "I'll be okay. Thank you, Hinamori-san."
"Of course. Good luck."
Karin lingers with her potential peers. Most of them have nice clothes and are paler than others. She's under the impression they're the nobility Toushirou once lamented. She takes a mental note to avoid them. She's seen those kinds of congregations at school and they never end well. On the opposite end of the spectrum are people she's certain are laborers from the Rukongai judging by their garb and their tans. They seem to stick to themselves or notably smaller cliques.
Then there's her. Worlds apart from them already. This is something she's used to, of course. Karin was entirely disinterested in her peers at school by the time high school rolled around, but it reminds her she no longer has anyone. Not Jinta, not Ururu, not Toushirou. That hurts bad enough but it hurts worse because the reason she doesn't have them is her own fault.
Is this going to be her unlife? Reliving her every mistake until the end of her natural life? Sacrificing her own sanity so the people she loves can live better lives without her?
Is she noble enough for that kind of sacrifice?
The door opens. Test-takers filter in, names being check off a list on a clipboard before a slip is handed to them. Her number is thirty-three. She's not surprised these tests are massive. She takes a seat. Minutes pass before they're given their tests and instructed to start. The content is practical knowledge, as far as Karin is concerned. It takes her longer to write out her answer than it does to figure it out, and she's surprisingly confident about her responses. She'll have to thank Jinta and Ururu if she ever sees them again.
Their tests are collected and numbers called three at a time for the practical. It'll be awhile before she's selected.
The young man next to her stretches and pops his neck. "Mahhh... that was rough," he remarks. "I started forgetting characters like a third of the way in, and had to rely on katakana."
Karin is pretty sure she's being the one addressed. She gets the feeling most of the better-dressed test-takers here would brag before admit weakness.
"I don't think I ever tested well before this. I was so relieved I knew more than I thought I would. I just hope my penmanship is legible." She hikes her leg onto the seat. "Are you feeling okay about the practical, at least?"
"I dunno... look at everyone here. It's obvious a lot of 'em were brought up doing this shit. I'm sure they've got at least a decade of swordplay and kidou. I can barely manifest a ball of light."
Karin pats his shoulder. "I wouldn't worry about it," she says. "It's people like you who greater things than they can dream of. It's not the sheltered and comfortable who make great change, you know."
He smiles at her, then he blanches. "Shit, I'm sorry, I forgot my manners. I'm Ryuuji Kawashima."
Karin nods. "It's nice meeting you, Kawashima-san. You can just call me Karin."
"I mean, if we're on first name basis, you should probably drop the honorific," he chuckles. Karin smiles. She likes him. "Anyway... how do you feel about the practical?"
"Confident."
"Damn, I didn't realize you were nobility too. You're so different from them," he marvels.
"Oh, I'm not nobility. I grew up seeing ghosts and hollows," Karin says.
"Damn, that must've been crazy. How'd you manage that?"
She shrugs. "Trial and error, mostly. Growing up in Karakura will do that."
He gasps and bumps his thighs while flying to his feet. "You were in Karakura?"
She nods. "I'm not sure why, but there's a lot of people like me. I presume it's related to the Winter War. Shit got really weird around that time."
"Damn, what was that like?"
"I'm not sure. I was out for the entirety of it." Quite literally. When she woke up, there were dozens of flexing reiatsu and the migraine it gave her rendered her infirm.
"Did you ever get to meet Kurosaki-sama? Is he everything everyone says he is?"
Shit. This is delicate territory.
"I-I wouldn't know," she lies. "Honestly, I only passed because I befriended Hitsugaya-taichou when he was stationed there."
"Damn. Lucky," he says. "I mean, I've only heard bits and pieces of what happened out there, but you lived it first hand, and with people I'll never dream of meeting."
Karin chuckles. "I certainly realize how privileged I am. But... most of this is still just hard work!" Finally, her number is called. "It was nice talking, Kawashima. Good luck to you."
"You too, Karin."
She follows two other test-takers to the door, where they're taken into the stadium itself. There's no significant reiatsu going off, though she gets the sense several are engaged in combat. Momo is here as well. Karin just can't see where.
She's last to be shown to a testing room. It's like a slice of pie, and its examiner waits for her with his back to the corner. He's had almost a dozen students by now and still hasn't broken a sweat.
It's time that changes.
"Salutations," her examiner says without introduction. Karin surveys her surroundings. No cover. Swords behind her, as Momo said. Natural light filters in from above, though she can't see the skylight. "Please select a sword on the wall if you please. The practical will begin when the buzzer sounds, and ends when it sounds the second time."
"Noted." Karin examines the selection of swords. It isn't grand. A katana, a wakizashi, and a spear. She could easily coax one over to her by manipulating its reishi but doesn't want to show her bag of tricks just yet. It does occur to her she's never handled a real sword. Jinta and she goofed off with bokken once, but it isn't the same. "Is there anything off limits?"
"I'd appreciate if you left my face alone, but I've yet to be overwhelmed," he says.
Karin takes the katana. It fits in her hand like rediscovering a lover.
She's broken Toushirou time and again. There's no fucking way she'll besmirch is reputation on top of all the bullshit she's put him through.
The buzzer sounds before she turns around. He's swiftly approaching, katana drawn while she admires her blade. She doesn't need to see him to stop him in his tracks.
His sword swings down and snaps in half against the wall of reishi she's erected between them. It's so much easier controlling it here when it's abundant.
Karin turns. She doesn't need a fucking sword for this. He doesn't deserve it. Her heel lands in his solar plexus. She isn't strong enough to send him across the room, but he grunts and falls on his rear end. It's lucky he can recover quickly. Karin hops over his sweeping kick and sends him backwards with strings of reishi. While landing, her arm flings out, molding a pair of spears from the stone floor. He misses one but the other crashes into his arm. He bats the bulk of it away with his arm but is badly abraded.
"You are sturdy," she howls, "but I will fucking erode you!"
She backhands the air, and he's flung into the wall like hit by a wrecking ball. He unleashes his zanpakutou, though she can't hear the incantation over the blood and air roaring in her ears, and then erupts into laughter when she sees a flail. "Your temari better have a gimmick, or you won't win this!"
"It isn't a competition," he says
"That's why you're losing!"
His shunpo takes him to her, front and center, and he's swinging down. Karin could disembowel him here, take him out from the spine down. She ignores her worst instincts and freezes his arms. He strains against it, shoulders popping, feet scraping against the stone.
"You underestimated me. Moments ago, I could've make it so you never walk again, or split you in two." she asks. Her sword touches his chin. His nostrils flare while he holds himself very still. "Pray you don't receive me, Sensei. There's nothing you can teach me."
She puts the swords away, though keeps him pinned midair. "You're a monster," he utters, "a cur, like the invaders."
He means it. Hate comes off him like bricks. "I know."
The buzzer sounds. Karin releases the hold. He sculks in the corner, rubbing his arm. Karin could probably patch him up with the reishi in the air and decides against it. Not because she can't, and not because she's sore about what he said, she just thinks his reaction would be awe if she was a man.
They're collected by another faculty member in a matter of minutes and taken to the exit. Momo is waiting for her and applauds when she approaches.
"You did very well, dear," Momo says. This is what it must be like to have a mom, she thinks while Momo pushes her bangs aside. "I know the proctor was a sore loser, but you tested very well. I'm almost certain you'll have advanced placement."
"Thanks," Karin says.
Momo finds them a rickshaw and babbles. Karin misses having pockets, and rides with her arms folded until Momo is rubbing her shoulders.
"You've been pensive all day. I know this has been a... a process for you," she sympathizes.
"I'm just lost in my thoughts."
"And what's on your mind?"
Karin doesn't want to impose upon Momo.
It's getting dark now. Karin tils her head back and watches the red sunset and blue sky blend like water color. Optimistic minds would call it lilac but it just looks gray to her.
Karin doesn't want to impose upon Momo. She never wanted to impose upon anyone, but did exactly that with every bout of despondent madness, but it's rude to say nothing.
"It's a weird transition." She pauses and says, "I made Toushirou take a break from... from us."
"He loves you. Why did he break up with you?"
"I-It wasn't him." Her throat's closing up. Fuck. She doesn't know why she let herself say that. "I need time to figure my shit out, you know? I mean, I fucking killed myself. Could you deal with someone in my position? With someone so unwell?"
Momo stares. Karin dumped a lot on her just now, and expects to feel offense or gears grinding to a halt. Weirdly, it's the opposite. There's no such thing. . "I won't pretend to have answers." She grasps Karin's hand and gently pats it. "I don't think lecturing you will do any good, but... I think it's important you know you're supported, and have the time to sort this out."
Momo's earnestness is sandpaper on a raw wound. It was easier when shit was a warzone. She could keep up a screaming match against Ichigo for days just to ignore what an ass she constantly feels like. Understanding is new to her.
"Oh, I know what we should do." Momo pulls her cell from her bosom. "Let's go to dinner, just the two of us. It's a girl's night."
"Sure," Karin sniffs, "thank you."
Their rickshaw changes course. It's a longer ride than Karin expected, and Momo gives her a crash course on the curriculum en route to dinner. It sounds pretty taxing, but this is what she's wanted forever, so she can't bring herself to dread it. What upsets Karin is how easily transparency comes to Momo when it was comparatively Herculean for her ilk, even under the threat of cannibalism.
They stop in front of an inconspicuous restaurant. The paneling is weather-worn, but the smell of whatever's cooking inside wafts out. Her belly is oddly still. Hunger must be experienced differently here, since she only now realizes how drained she feels.
Momo seems to be somewhat familiar with the staff. She's greeted by name, and they're taken to a table on a patio overlooking a small duck pond without further questions. The waitress who delivers their menus doesn't even cover any specials. Karin opens the menu. Given the food from last night, she must have high standards of food, and this place must pass. It makes Karin's choice more complicated than she expected.
Momo points to the mori soba. "This is pretty good, if you're in the mood for noodles. Their brisket is also enjoyable."
Karin does enjoy soba in all its renditions.
Momo relives nostalgic times as a cadet. Karin's focus waxes and wanes. They're interesting stories but she feels overstimulated and partial to wallowing. It isn't until Momo chuckles that Karin's able to regain focus.
"He was an odd kid. I can see why, though. Townsfolk in our corner of the Rukongai weren't kind about oddities like him. I think he just learned to cut himself off."
She must be talking about Toushirou. Karin says, "I remember he was resistant to socialize with me when we first met."
"Oh?" Momo sips her beer. "We don't speak that often. He hasn't told me how you met.
Karin picks at her food. "It was a kinda underwhelming meet-cute. I saw him fiddling with his phone and clocked him as different before I even noticed his hair." Momo's eyebrow arches. Right. She hasn't detailed the totality of her reikaku yet. "Like, y'know how you guys can locate each other by pinpointing reiatsu? I can do the same, but I get additional information... kind of like images. Impressions is probably better. Like... you're a forest fire," Karin explains. Momo seems to understand. "Toushirou's wintry, but a romantic goth way, but I could feel the power just under the surface." Her chopsticks fiddle with her noodles. "Ichigo was acting weird at the time, so the dots weren't hard to connect, I just didn't realize how connect until we were attacked by a hollow and Toushirou revealed himself to be a shinigami."
Momo smiles. "He likes playing the hero."
That he does.
"I didn't have peers like myself. I mean, I had friends, but it was him and Urahara's and Tsukabishi's kids through middle school and high school. They were the only ones who got it. But they weren't available the way Toushirou was. Toushirou and I were steady by the time Jinta lost interest in my sister... it was just nice having someone I didn't have to hammer myself down for, y'know?"
But the woman Toushirou loved is a burnt match now. There's just exhaustion and bitterness.
"I do," Momo says, "Shuuhei was my first experience with my current lifestyle. It was hard adjusting but liberating to have someone, then someones, I could share my life with in every facet." She smiles at Karin. "I know you're confused now, and it's okay to be. I can't promise you'll stay together after all this but I think you'll be able to smooth out whatever hardships you're going through now."
Karin really hopes Momo is right.
Dinner's paid for. They leave for home. Momo kisses Karin's head outside the guestroom, and it's nice, even if she doesn't deserve it. "Our room is down the hall if you need anything. Goodnight, Karin-chan," she says.
Karin changes into a pair of jinbei and haragake. Her reflection resembles that Shiba woman she met years ago, trying to fit her breasts into a little diamond-shaped cut of fabric. It's easy to sleep in but it doesn't make restful sleep. She's a light sleeper, all considered, and her dreams rarely last long enough to make a rich world to explore.
That isn't the case tonight. Home's as rotten as she feels. Plaster flakes off the wall when her shoulder bumps into the corner leading from the genkan into the living room. Ichigo is on the couch. He's caked in filth and flies buzz around him, feasting on whatever debris coats him. He stares at her and his eyes are a collapsing star. A black hole spinning with and crushing light and goodness into strings of molecules.
"He's never going to want to see you again," Ichigo utters.
She squeezes her eyes shut. "I know."
"Burn enough bridges and they'll all see what you are." Ichigo takes her shoulder and she's steered upstairs. When her eyes open, they're in the bathroom. Toushirou is tying towels around her unzipped wrists against a flow of sludge. It's all red on white, evocative and shocking. His misery puts a ball of lead in her gut.
"You were right to throw him away with the rest of us." Ichigo's voice reverberates against the walls. "The question is how long before everyone realizes what you are?"
