Bleach Drabble (421)
421.
Title The Paths of Lions
Rating: R
Pairing/Character/s: Il FortexArrankar, Aizen, Grimmjow
Word Count: 998
Warning/s: Spoilers for the post SS-arc and a bit of non-con.
Summary: Il Forte is an insect.
Dedication: Shini- thanks again for the donation! ^^
A/N: So the request was for Arrankar pron. Yet this wouldn’t leave my head. It’s sort of porn? O.o
The reason Aizen keeps all the Arrankar he creates-weak or strong-is because he believes in the right of every creature to hold its own existence.
However, he also believes that living things must exist on different levels.
It wouldn’t be fair if insects could walk the same paths as lions, after all.
But he keeps them all either way, keeps the weak ones just as he keeps the strong ones and lets them all know they are beloved, that they have a right to their own lives, whatever they may be.
But all the same, he thinks it’s only fair that they know some of them will be stronger than others, that the stronger will have more power over their whatever-they-may-bes than the weaker.
Il Forte is fortunate, Aizen thinks, for being beautiful despite his weaknesses.
It’s saved him perhaps, from worse fates that those even marginally stronger but far less lovely have had to endure.
“Aizen-sama…please don’t…”
“Hush now,” Aizen soothes, and reaches out to pat Il Forte’s hair. “You’re lovely.”
“Aizen-sama, I…nnnngh!!!”
Aizen watches as the other Arrankar grasp at Il Forte, as one breaks his arm and twists it behind his back while others yet pull clothes off of him and thrust into him and leer and bite and shatter the surprisingly strong bones inside that lovely-as-a-picture body.
The strong over the weak.
When they’re finished, when they’ve all had their fill and gone on, Il Forte is abandoned on the floor but left alive, and Aizen thinks that he should be thankful that they have allowed him to live again, as…tattered as his existence may now be.
“There, that wasn’t so very bad, ne?” Aizen asks warmly, stepping over the naked, quivering mess that remains on the ground.
Il Forte’s eyes darken, though all he can say is, “Yes, Aizen-sama,” as the shinigami leaves the room.
He can’t move, not right off, and as he lies there covered in blood and come and filth, he hears footsteps again, wonders with a snarling kind of hatred, if the weaker ones have come now, to pick his bones clean.
He refuses to suffer such indignity as that, lets his spiritual energy gather for a moment before unleashing as menacing an aura as he can muster right now, hoping that it will be enough to scare off whatever vultures have come for him.
“Che. Tiny whimper in a big old echoin’ room. Shut the fuck up, damned pathetic puppy.”
He sees the shadow of another Arrankar drift over him before moving to sit beside the window.
It’s one much stronger than him and he feels his attempt to gather his energy shatter upon realizing that, readies himself to face the inevitable.
He steels himself. “Are you here for more, then?” he asks, managing to keep his voice from cracking.
A snort. “Hell no. I don’t fuck such pathetic lookin’ pretty-boys. Makes me sick just lookin’ atcha.”
Il Forte frowns. “What…”
Grimmjow sneers. “You heard me.”
At that, Il Forte turns his face to the side so that the countenance leering mockingly down at him seems a little farther away. “There was no way I could have fought them. They were much stronger,” he says in his own defense, voice small.
Grimmjow snorts, and it’s loud and clear. “So what? You’re better off like that? I’da fought the fuckers tooth’n nail. Took a damned ear with me.” He pauses, then snickers at Il Forte. “Though probably too delicate for a pretty boy like you, huh? Must be used to it then… feelin’ ‘em up your ass, in your mouth. Bet you even like that some.”
Il Forte clenches his teeth at the jeers, feels real anger boiling up inside of him for the first time in a long time. He hasn’t really felt like this since the first time they’d taken his body that way, back before he’d learned to give up and let them have what they want.
Grimmjow feels it too, a real gathering of power now, and he grins. “Well I’ll be damned,” he mutters, eyes laughing in a way both infuriating and frightening. “Seems like you ain’t all looks after all.”
“I’m not,” Il Forte snaps, without thinking.
Grimmjow sticks his hands in his pocket and turns his gaze out through the window full of the pitch-black nothing that surrounds them. “Alright.”
They stay like that for a while, and eventually, Il Forte musters up the strength to sit up, to lean himself against the wall.
Grimmjow leaves some time later without another word, and it takes a full day, but Il Forte manages to make it up and out of that room, to get himself cleaned up.
The next time they grab him, he fights back.
Ends up taking an ear with him during and it only takes a week to fully heal up afterwards.
He takes the ear and throws it at Grimmjow’s feet the next time he sees him, and the other Arrankar simply laughs at him and tells him that even though it proves nothing and he’s still a good-for-nothing pretty boy, that lone, pathetic little ear is-admittedly-- funny as all hell.
Il Forte smiles back and thinks to himself that even though he knows he’s an insect, he might be able to make it from here on out, if he can ride upon a lion’s back.
Grimmjow has no idea what the fuck that’s supposed to mean when he hears it, but all in all, the ear is pretty hysterical, so he lets Il Forte hang out.
Grimmjow is pretty sure the twerp will never be really strong at all, but at least he’s kinda entertaining.
Aizen, in the meantime, lets them be because he knows that young ones have to learn on their own sometimes, when they refuse to listen to the advice of the elders who are looking after them.
Il Forte has a right to his own life, after all.
Whatever it may be.
However short.
END
Edits severely needed. o.o
Also, before I forget, another mercy_street_rp drabble over at mercystreetnote
Title: Punching Bag
Characters: Ikkaku, Kira
Timeline: N/A
Rating: PG-13
A/N: I couldn’t help myself?
Punching Bag
Title The Paths of Lions
Rating: R
Pairing/Character/s: Il FortexArrankar, Aizen, Grimmjow
Word Count: 998
Warning/s: Spoilers for the post SS-arc and a bit of non-con.
Summary: Il Forte is an insect.
Dedication: Shini- thanks again for the donation! ^^
A/N: So the request was for Arrankar pron. Yet this wouldn’t leave my head. It’s sort of porn? O.o
The reason Aizen keeps all the Arrankar he creates-weak or strong-is because he believes in the right of every creature to hold its own existence.
However, he also believes that living things must exist on different levels.
It wouldn’t be fair if insects could walk the same paths as lions, after all.
But he keeps them all either way, keeps the weak ones just as he keeps the strong ones and lets them all know they are beloved, that they have a right to their own lives, whatever they may be.
But all the same, he thinks it’s only fair that they know some of them will be stronger than others, that the stronger will have more power over their whatever-they-may-bes than the weaker.
Il Forte is fortunate, Aizen thinks, for being beautiful despite his weaknesses.
It’s saved him perhaps, from worse fates that those even marginally stronger but far less lovely have had to endure.
“Aizen-sama…please don’t…”
“Hush now,” Aizen soothes, and reaches out to pat Il Forte’s hair. “You’re lovely.”
“Aizen-sama, I…nnnngh!!!”
Aizen watches as the other Arrankar grasp at Il Forte, as one breaks his arm and twists it behind his back while others yet pull clothes off of him and thrust into him and leer and bite and shatter the surprisingly strong bones inside that lovely-as-a-picture body.
The strong over the weak.
When they’re finished, when they’ve all had their fill and gone on, Il Forte is abandoned on the floor but left alive, and Aizen thinks that he should be thankful that they have allowed him to live again, as…tattered as his existence may now be.
“There, that wasn’t so very bad, ne?” Aizen asks warmly, stepping over the naked, quivering mess that remains on the ground.
Il Forte’s eyes darken, though all he can say is, “Yes, Aizen-sama,” as the shinigami leaves the room.
He can’t move, not right off, and as he lies there covered in blood and come and filth, he hears footsteps again, wonders with a snarling kind of hatred, if the weaker ones have come now, to pick his bones clean.
He refuses to suffer such indignity as that, lets his spiritual energy gather for a moment before unleashing as menacing an aura as he can muster right now, hoping that it will be enough to scare off whatever vultures have come for him.
“Che. Tiny whimper in a big old echoin’ room. Shut the fuck up, damned pathetic puppy.”
He sees the shadow of another Arrankar drift over him before moving to sit beside the window.
It’s one much stronger than him and he feels his attempt to gather his energy shatter upon realizing that, readies himself to face the inevitable.
He steels himself. “Are you here for more, then?” he asks, managing to keep his voice from cracking.
A snort. “Hell no. I don’t fuck such pathetic lookin’ pretty-boys. Makes me sick just lookin’ atcha.”
Il Forte frowns. “What…”
Grimmjow sneers. “You heard me.”
At that, Il Forte turns his face to the side so that the countenance leering mockingly down at him seems a little farther away. “There was no way I could have fought them. They were much stronger,” he says in his own defense, voice small.
Grimmjow snorts, and it’s loud and clear. “So what? You’re better off like that? I’da fought the fuckers tooth’n nail. Took a damned ear with me.” He pauses, then snickers at Il Forte. “Though probably too delicate for a pretty boy like you, huh? Must be used to it then… feelin’ ‘em up your ass, in your mouth. Bet you even like that some.”
Il Forte clenches his teeth at the jeers, feels real anger boiling up inside of him for the first time in a long time. He hasn’t really felt like this since the first time they’d taken his body that way, back before he’d learned to give up and let them have what they want.
Grimmjow feels it too, a real gathering of power now, and he grins. “Well I’ll be damned,” he mutters, eyes laughing in a way both infuriating and frightening. “Seems like you ain’t all looks after all.”
“I’m not,” Il Forte snaps, without thinking.
Grimmjow sticks his hands in his pocket and turns his gaze out through the window full of the pitch-black nothing that surrounds them. “Alright.”
They stay like that for a while, and eventually, Il Forte musters up the strength to sit up, to lean himself against the wall.
Grimmjow leaves some time later without another word, and it takes a full day, but Il Forte manages to make it up and out of that room, to get himself cleaned up.
The next time they grab him, he fights back.
Ends up taking an ear with him during and it only takes a week to fully heal up afterwards.
He takes the ear and throws it at Grimmjow’s feet the next time he sees him, and the other Arrankar simply laughs at him and tells him that even though it proves nothing and he’s still a good-for-nothing pretty boy, that lone, pathetic little ear is-admittedly-- funny as all hell.
Il Forte smiles back and thinks to himself that even though he knows he’s an insect, he might be able to make it from here on out, if he can ride upon a lion’s back.
Grimmjow has no idea what the fuck that’s supposed to mean when he hears it, but all in all, the ear is pretty hysterical, so he lets Il Forte hang out.
Grimmjow is pretty sure the twerp will never be really strong at all, but at least he’s kinda entertaining.
Aizen, in the meantime, lets them be because he knows that young ones have to learn on their own sometimes, when they refuse to listen to the advice of the elders who are looking after them.
Il Forte has a right to his own life, after all.
Whatever it may be.
However short.
END
Edits severely needed. o.o
Also, before I forget, another mercy_street_rp drabble over at mercystreetnote
Title: Punching Bag
Characters: Ikkaku, Kira
Timeline: N/A
Rating: PG-13
A/N: I couldn’t help myself?
Punching Bag