Title: Beautiful.
Type: Fanfiction : Bleach.
Prompt: Themes taken from
sanbantaichou. #3 Cuffed; caged.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Kubo Tite does, and some other people that I don't know.
Rating: PG13.
Word Count:
Summary: An Ichimaru-centric drabble. Gin reflects on the state of his vice-captain. [ GinKira ]. Drabble-esque.
Author's Note: Need to start working. Need to start working...
beautiful
Izuru looks most beautiful when he is about to break.
Gin smiles lazily, leaning against the wooden frame of the door that leads towards the holding cells, where his vice-captain is currently held under Captain Hitsugaya’s order. He waves aside the concerned inquiries from the shinigami-on-duty, and advances inside. It is easy to spot which cell Izuru occupies, seeing that the others are empty. Gin’s smile widens at the sight of numerous cuts and smudges of blood decorating his vice-captain’s lean face. At the desperation that highlights the intensity of Kira’s eyes.
Beautiful. Like a caged butterfly.
The silver-haired shinigami chooses to remain in the shadow, appreciating the incoherent mutters and shifts of strained muscles from the quivering Kira. His eyes trail from the bound hands to the exposed curve of Kira’s slender neck. So fragile, so easy to snap. So beautiful. Gin slowly licks his lips, and fingers Shinsou. The wakizashi hums in return, sending delicious pulses through his veins. It is time. In one fluid motion, the Third Division’s captain unsheathes Shinsou and stabs through the guard’s chest, who was standing conveniently behind him.
Sprays of hot blood paints the wall a pretty shade of crimson.
Gin steps forward, a wide grin on his face.
“You look so frail, Izuru. You poor thing.”
Beautiful. Like a caged butterfly.
Gin wants to crush its wings and watch it die slowly.
Beautiful. Really.
END
Title: Sense of Responsibility.
Type: Fanfiction : Bleach
Prompt: Themes taken from
sanbantaichou. #4 Shades of Meaning.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Kubo Tite does, and some other people that I don't know.
Rating: PG15. For language, mostly.
Word Count:
Summary: Gin discusses philosophy with Byakuya. [ Gen ]. Drabble-esque.
Author's Note: *is dead*
sense of responsiblity
“What are you doing here?”
Gin looks up from the papers in his hands and grins widely at Kuchiki Byakuya. “Hello there, Mister Sixth Division Captain*. Back so early?”
Byakuya shuts the door with an almost imperceptible nudge, and stares stoically at the stranger currently sitting on his chair. In his office. Doodling absolute nonsense on his reports, which are due to be sent to Yamamoto-taichou that afternoon. Byakuya can almost feel his eyebrow twitching. “I don’t remember inviting you over today, Ichimaru. Is there anything of any importance that you wish to consult me?”
“Hya~ you’re so stiff, Bya-chin.” The silver-haired captain pouts and idly scribbles something onto the abused reports, easily ignoring the increasing waves of murderous reitsu emanating from the other captain. “Izuru’s being mean today; he keeps going on and on about paperwork and accounts. I’m bored.”
“That is what people call ‘sense of responsibility’,” Byakuya icily retorts, annoyance lacing his usually-expressionless voice. His head is throbbing from long-suppressed migraine, and he needs to vent in private. Not in front of a grinning psycho freak that sexually-harasses him on daily basis.
Gin tilts his head and regards the stoic captain with something akin to amusement. “If this ‘sense of responsibility’ is the one that makes you agree to Rukia-chan’s execution, I don’t think I want any of it.”
Byakuya stiffens at the implication veiled behind the carelessly-worded remark, and his eyes narrow threateningly. “Do not talk of things beyond your understanding, Ichimaru-taichou.”
“What’s so hard to understand?” the captain of the Third Division laughs; jovial and challenging. “You brought back your pretty sister, agreed to the Council’s decision and continue on with your works like nothing has happened. Your ‘sense of responsibility’ amazes me, Byakuya-taichou.”
His fingers twitch, itching to reach Senbon Zakura and silence the impudent shinigami before him. Byakuya fists his fingers instead. “This has nothing to do with you.”
Gin pouts again. “You’re no fun.”
“I try.”
“But, Bya-chin~”
“Please refrain from discussing the Kuchiki’s private matters with myself, as well as everyone else. I’m sure you have more pressing business to attend to, Ichimaru-taichou. Is there anything else?”
“Nope.” Gin straightens up, his white robe sweeping against the dark wood of Byakuya’s working desk. His silver hair shimmers underneath the glare of the morning sun. As he passes Byakuya, Gin leans closer and whispers, “But, Mister Sixth Division Captain, are you sure that you have chosen the right ‘sense of responsibility’ to follow?”
Byakuya presses his lips together and resists the urge to reach out and strangle Gin.
“‘Responsibility’ can mean so much, ne?”
“Get out, Ichimaru.”
Chilling laughter echoes inside the room, as the door opens and closes soundlessly.
Byakuya stares at the array of papers on his desk.
Doodled on them are rough sketches of Rukia, strangled by numerous dark ropes.
And white snakes.
Byakuya shivers.
END
* : taken from Gin's tendency to refer to Byakuya as 'Rokubantai Taichou-san'.
Edit needed like WHOA!