Bleach- "The Seven Stages of Dying (Like a Bitch)"
Title: The Seven Stages of Dying (Like a Bitch)
Universe: Bleach
Theme/Topic: How I Could Just Kill a Man
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Character/Pairing/s: Yammy (with Kenpachi, Byakuya, and Yachiru in the background)
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers through chapter 282, speculation of the beyond.
Word Count: 1,270
Summary: Yammy didn’t have a chance in the world.
Dedication: cheloya! Your prompt was hard, but I hope this sort of fits the bill. LOL It is so short though I will write you something else later, promise. Consider this a place holder drabble. >>
A/N: OUT OF PRACTICE but I had fun anyway? This took entirely too long.
Disclaimer: No harm or infringement intended.
1. Denial
Yammy starts off annoyed.
They come out of nowhere just as he’s about to finish that puny weakling Kurosaki off and the spiky-haired one cuts off his leg without so much as a how do you do. He chops off some of Yammy’s fingers after that and even when Yammy is bellowing at them fearsomely neither the spiky-haired one or the prissy one seems very scared of him at all, not of his size or the strength of his reiatsu or his booming assertions that he is the strongest Espada in the world and will eat them all for breakfast after killing them very much.
Maybe they are not as impressed as they should be because they are too busy bickering with one another to listen.
Their faulty confidence will be their undoing; Yammy knows he is their superior in every way and as such, he will easily smash them against the ground like so many insects before them, so that they will regret ever intervening in this fight and taking Yammy’s prey from him.
Those first few blows that they had landed were just lucky anyway; now that they don’t have the element of surprise anymore, Yammy will kill them easily.
He is the strongest, after all.
Still, it would be nice if they looked a little bit impressed.
2. Anger
Yammy begins to get frustrated.
This isn’t possible, he thinks to himself, even when the cero doesn’t work, when the pounding and the screaming and the sheer force of his power don’t work. He manages to draw a little blood here and there but he suspects that is from the sand that he is forcing up into the air rather than from his own blows actually landing; the sharp fragments of sediment hit them and break skin simply because the shinigami can’t be bothered to dodge something so trifling.
When they get so bored of listening to Yammy that they start fighting with each other, Yammy starts to feel small, even though he is the biggest one there. He roars and tries to smash them again, just so they’ll pay attention.
It works; as he is bearing down on them they finally remember that he is there.
“You’re in the way!” they both say, and from there, everything goes white.
3. Pain
Yammy wonders if this is what it feels like to be frightened.
He cannot see anymore and he is bleeding in all sorts of places he wasn’t bleeding in before. Half of him is missing, gone somewhere else that isn’t attached to the rest of him after their last combined blow.
He eventually staggers and falls on his back, groaning and clutching at his eyes.
“Sloppy work at best,” he hears the prissy one sniff, and for some reason, knows that the prissy one is looking at the half of him that isn’t attached anymore.
“You don’t fuckin’ stop with the criticism do you?” the spiky-haired one grunts, and Yammy can feel the energy radiating off of him, far livelier now than it had been against Yammy a moment ago.
He can’t see anything that is happening, but there is a gust of wind after that, and the fearsome clashing of opposing forces.
Trapped in a smothering world of darkness, he is forced to listen to the spiky-haired one laughing like he is having the time of his life while the prissy one sniffs and calls him snobby-sounding names. The smell of shinigami blood and reiatsu hit Yammy’s nose, thick and pungent and chilling when at its true peak.
They forget that he’s even there.
4. Bitterness
Yammy starts to get lonely.
They’ve been going at it for a while now and he is cold and immobile in the sand, blood seeping out of him at the place where the other half of him used to be. He thinks that if this were any one else, any of the other Espada, they would at least have the decency to finish him off and eat his soul instead of leaving him here like this, weak and pathetic and slowly, slowly fading in and out of the universe.
Those shinigami always act like they are better than everyone else, he thinks sulkily, and if he could, would move his arm and try to smash the prissy one who keeps flitting around in shunpo, easily dodging the burning attacks from the spiky-haired one.
He is stepping on Yammy’s face a lot.
5. Depression
Yammy starts to get disheartened.
A lot of time has gone by and the rumblings have not stopped, only intensified somehow, flashes of hot reiatsu burning him when the blows get too close or when his body is in the way. The spiky-haired one is still laughing like this is some sort of grand holiday, while the prissy one seems to have unclenched and relaxed into the rhythm of the fight like he might actually be enjoying it.
Yammy wonders when he became less than sloppy seconds.
6. Begging
Yammy is officially impatient.
There are only so many hours of dying one can take during the process of dying before one simply wants to be dead and done with it. They are death gods, isn’t it their job to help push him onwards to oblivion?
He musters up what strength he has, and when the battle draws the two shinigami near enough again, he manages to whisper, “Just kill me already!” at them, weakly with all his might.
Thankfully it is enough; it gives them pause for a moment, standing on top of a sand dune beside Yammy’s blind eyes as they regard him critically. He starts to believe that maybe one of them (or both of them) will finally remember their duty and end his misery.
But then, the spiky-haired one says to the prissy one, “You do it. I still ain’t gonna kill no weaklings.”
The prissy one sniffs. “And I am still not your maid. Clean up your own mistakes.”
A beat.
They eventually come to some sort of consensus when they turn to him and say, “Kill yourself.”
Yammy wants to scream.
7. Acceptance
Yammy decides that they are right; he has to take care of himself.
It happens sometime later, when he feels a tiny weight settle on what is left of his nose; the reiatsu that accompanies it is startlingly similar to that of the others’. It is fierce like the spiky-haired shinigami’s but light and quick like the prissy one’s all at the same time, a combination that automatically makes Yammy shiver uncomfortably.
“Are you alive?” a sweet, childlike voice asks him after a moment, and he feels a small hand smack down with surprising force on his cheek, as if trying to rouse him from an afternoon nap.
“Mmmph,” Yammy manages, and wonders if this little girl will be the one who will end it all with her casual slapping.
But she just laughs at him and says she's glad she has someone she can talk to; she settles down more comfortably on top of his nose so she can better witness the awesome action of two captain class shinigami battling ruthlessly on the desert sands of Hueco Mundo down below. “Those two always have so much fun with each other!” she says to him with a twittering giggle, and because he can’t see, she obliges him by detailing every single thing they are doing at the speed that they are doing it.
“AndnowKen-chanisdodgingeventhoughByakushimanagedtocuthisfacealittlebitbutIthinkKen-chanlikesthatsoheletithappenbecausethat’sjusthowKen-chanisandnowKen-chan’suniformisallrippedupanditlookslikehispantsaregoingtofalldownsoonByakushisurespunreallyfastjustnowlikeaballerina!” she babbles.
That is when Yammy finally decides that somehow, he must find a way to rip his own mask off.
Quickly.
END
EDITS?
Universe: Bleach
Theme/Topic: How I Could Just Kill a Man
Rating: PG-13 for violence
Character/Pairing/s: Yammy (with Kenpachi, Byakuya, and Yachiru in the background)
Warnings/Spoilers: Spoilers through chapter 282, speculation of the beyond.
Word Count: 1,270
Summary: Yammy didn’t have a chance in the world.
Dedication: cheloya! Your prompt was hard, but I hope this sort of fits the bill. LOL It is so short though I will write you something else later, promise. Consider this a place holder drabble. >>
A/N: OUT OF PRACTICE but I had fun anyway? This took entirely too long.
Disclaimer: No harm or infringement intended.
1. Denial
Yammy starts off annoyed.
They come out of nowhere just as he’s about to finish that puny weakling Kurosaki off and the spiky-haired one cuts off his leg without so much as a how do you do. He chops off some of Yammy’s fingers after that and even when Yammy is bellowing at them fearsomely neither the spiky-haired one or the prissy one seems very scared of him at all, not of his size or the strength of his reiatsu or his booming assertions that he is the strongest Espada in the world and will eat them all for breakfast after killing them very much.
Maybe they are not as impressed as they should be because they are too busy bickering with one another to listen.
Their faulty confidence will be their undoing; Yammy knows he is their superior in every way and as such, he will easily smash them against the ground like so many insects before them, so that they will regret ever intervening in this fight and taking Yammy’s prey from him.
Those first few blows that they had landed were just lucky anyway; now that they don’t have the element of surprise anymore, Yammy will kill them easily.
He is the strongest, after all.
Still, it would be nice if they looked a little bit impressed.
2. Anger
Yammy begins to get frustrated.
This isn’t possible, he thinks to himself, even when the cero doesn’t work, when the pounding and the screaming and the sheer force of his power don’t work. He manages to draw a little blood here and there but he suspects that is from the sand that he is forcing up into the air rather than from his own blows actually landing; the sharp fragments of sediment hit them and break skin simply because the shinigami can’t be bothered to dodge something so trifling.
When they get so bored of listening to Yammy that they start fighting with each other, Yammy starts to feel small, even though he is the biggest one there. He roars and tries to smash them again, just so they’ll pay attention.
It works; as he is bearing down on them they finally remember that he is there.
“You’re in the way!” they both say, and from there, everything goes white.
3. Pain
Yammy wonders if this is what it feels like to be frightened.
He cannot see anymore and he is bleeding in all sorts of places he wasn’t bleeding in before. Half of him is missing, gone somewhere else that isn’t attached to the rest of him after their last combined blow.
He eventually staggers and falls on his back, groaning and clutching at his eyes.
“Sloppy work at best,” he hears the prissy one sniff, and for some reason, knows that the prissy one is looking at the half of him that isn’t attached anymore.
“You don’t fuckin’ stop with the criticism do you?” the spiky-haired one grunts, and Yammy can feel the energy radiating off of him, far livelier now than it had been against Yammy a moment ago.
He can’t see anything that is happening, but there is a gust of wind after that, and the fearsome clashing of opposing forces.
Trapped in a smothering world of darkness, he is forced to listen to the spiky-haired one laughing like he is having the time of his life while the prissy one sniffs and calls him snobby-sounding names. The smell of shinigami blood and reiatsu hit Yammy’s nose, thick and pungent and chilling when at its true peak.
They forget that he’s even there.
4. Bitterness
Yammy starts to get lonely.
They’ve been going at it for a while now and he is cold and immobile in the sand, blood seeping out of him at the place where the other half of him used to be. He thinks that if this were any one else, any of the other Espada, they would at least have the decency to finish him off and eat his soul instead of leaving him here like this, weak and pathetic and slowly, slowly fading in and out of the universe.
Those shinigami always act like they are better than everyone else, he thinks sulkily, and if he could, would move his arm and try to smash the prissy one who keeps flitting around in shunpo, easily dodging the burning attacks from the spiky-haired one.
He is stepping on Yammy’s face a lot.
5. Depression
Yammy starts to get disheartened.
A lot of time has gone by and the rumblings have not stopped, only intensified somehow, flashes of hot reiatsu burning him when the blows get too close or when his body is in the way. The spiky-haired one is still laughing like this is some sort of grand holiday, while the prissy one seems to have unclenched and relaxed into the rhythm of the fight like he might actually be enjoying it.
Yammy wonders when he became less than sloppy seconds.
6. Begging
Yammy is officially impatient.
There are only so many hours of dying one can take during the process of dying before one simply wants to be dead and done with it. They are death gods, isn’t it their job to help push him onwards to oblivion?
He musters up what strength he has, and when the battle draws the two shinigami near enough again, he manages to whisper, “Just kill me already!” at them, weakly with all his might.
Thankfully it is enough; it gives them pause for a moment, standing on top of a sand dune beside Yammy’s blind eyes as they regard him critically. He starts to believe that maybe one of them (or both of them) will finally remember their duty and end his misery.
But then, the spiky-haired one says to the prissy one, “You do it. I still ain’t gonna kill no weaklings.”
The prissy one sniffs. “And I am still not your maid. Clean up your own mistakes.”
A beat.
They eventually come to some sort of consensus when they turn to him and say, “Kill yourself.”
Yammy wants to scream.
7. Acceptance
Yammy decides that they are right; he has to take care of himself.
It happens sometime later, when he feels a tiny weight settle on what is left of his nose; the reiatsu that accompanies it is startlingly similar to that of the others’. It is fierce like the spiky-haired shinigami’s but light and quick like the prissy one’s all at the same time, a combination that automatically makes Yammy shiver uncomfortably.
“Are you alive?” a sweet, childlike voice asks him after a moment, and he feels a small hand smack down with surprising force on his cheek, as if trying to rouse him from an afternoon nap.
“Mmmph,” Yammy manages, and wonders if this little girl will be the one who will end it all with her casual slapping.
But she just laughs at him and says she's glad she has someone she can talk to; she settles down more comfortably on top of his nose so she can better witness the awesome action of two captain class shinigami battling ruthlessly on the desert sands of Hueco Mundo down below. “Those two always have so much fun with each other!” she says to him with a twittering giggle, and because he can’t see, she obliges him by detailing every single thing they are doing at the speed that they are doing it.
“AndnowKen-chanisdodgingeventhoughByakushimanagedtocuthisfacealittlebitbutIthinkKen-chanlikesthatsoheletithappenbecausethat’sjusthowKen-chanisandnowKen-chan’suniformisallrippedupanditlookslikehispantsaregoingtofalldownsoonByakushisurespunreallyfastjustnowlikeaballerina!” she babbles.
That is when Yammy finally decides that somehow, he must find a way to rip his own mask off.
Quickly.
END
EDITS?