#dokuhai

ichimaru's a lucky, lucky guy.

Questions for the Mun

♦ What's an AU that you've always wanted?

y a KUZA AU YAKUZA AU FUCKING YAKUZA AU don’t ask me why i’m so into organized crime plots maybe it’s because i genuinely wanted to join the mafia when i was younger buT YAKUZA AU LISTEN AIZEN WOULD BE SO FUCKING GODO IN ONE YEAH--

⚜ What is the best time to write for you? Why?

any time i’m awake lmao. literally i don’t have a “good time” to write or a “bad time.” either i’mm awake and able to write or my executive dysfunction and adhd strike to leave me just faffing around. but i try to get at least one thing written every day, even if it’s only on discord.

☣ What's one thing that will make you drop a thread?

honestly? if i don’t jive with the person i’m writing with. be it because they try to push things onto me that don’t fit my muse or that i’m not comfortable with ( and i try very hard to not push things onto people the idea of being pushy about things is mortifying-- ) or just misinterpreting how things can go. like, i like to think of myself as very friendly and easy to approach and talk to because i’m an adult who can handle discussing things, but the instant someone tries to force things onto me or my muses, be it canon lore i disagree with or their own interpretation or anything else, i tend to take an immediate step back from them and will often let the thread wither and die.

ツ Who has been your favorite muse to play so far? Why?

oh god. toss up between ardyn and aizen. i’m a villain writer. i love writing villains. especially complex villains like, you know, aizen. it’s only taken me ten fucking years to really start getting him down where i want him and i’ve discarded a LOT of what i used to think about him once because it never fit but i really like where i am with him now. he’s irritatated that i’m starting to pick him open and apart but suffer you brat--

/kicks him.

as for why? i love villains. i’m a villain fucker. but i also love to treat my favorites like geodes. i have to smash them open and see what they’re made of. and, honestly, there’s a fun balance that comes out of “this character still has their quirks and fallacies which makes them relatable as a person/maybe they had this tragedy occur within their lifetime/perhaps the reason why they are is x y and z but which of those reasons is the real and main one for making them tick this way?’ and showing that for as sympathetic as i can make my muses ( like aizen here -- ) for people which is a skill i’m damn good at -- THEY ARE STILL VILLAINS. i mean, sure, i’m happy to work them into being Diet Evil or something or at least Evil Lite or whatever the equivalent of Sunny D for Evil is ( ick, Sunny D. ) and while my muses can become better people--? they’re still, you know, very capable of switching gears and committing atrocities without blinking an eye.

“So what is it your association does, exactly?”

How did anyone in Soul Society ever manage to get anything done?

Victory wasn’t always a sweet affair. Sometimes it was a bitter, bleeding thing that hardly seemed a victory at all. And while there were a few brave souls that managed to celebrate across the Seireitei, death still hung over the Fourth Division like a cloud. Shutara sensed the reiatsus as she passed, many of them wavering, flickering like candles. One light breeze would snuff them all out.

Of course, it was all the more difficult without their dear Captain. Visiting hours had come and gone, yet no one dared stop her or even confront the weaver who strolled leisurely down their halls. For all the promises ‘Retsu’ was long since reformed, she knew better than to think Yachiru would let such bold behavior stand. As it was, she had no problem slipping into the hospital room of one Tenth Division Lieutenant. 

Shutara allowed the door to close behind her with a soft click. Waking the patient wasn’t a particular concern of hers. Sure enough, she found her eyes open, wide, and above all, questioning. For the time being her only answer was a painted smile. 

“Rangiku Matsumoto, is it?” Heavy, clacking footsteps brought her to the foot of the bed, four wooden hands floating around her figure to rest idly on the frame.