Almost Like a Disease [Renruki] [Bleach] [10_inspirations]
Title :: Almost Like a Disease
Prompt :: Write your soul down word for word -- Matchbox Twenty : You Won't Be Mine [10_inspirations]
Characters/Pairing :: Renruki (and Zabimaru!)
Rating :: PG-13
Wordcount :: 433
Summary :: If anyone asked: The tattoos were a representation of Zabimaru.
Notes :: …ldhdfghdha;hkdf;h this entire song is so Renji. ._.;;; (If you haven’t listened, please do, because it is amazing. ♥) And yup, the title comes from it, too.
If anyone asked: The tattoos were a representation of Zabimaru. Renji was never one for hidin’ shit, anyway; Zabimaru was inside him, a part of him, and so everyone damn well ought to see it. Simple enough.
Every time he said this, Zabimaru would rumble a laugh inside his head.
Ya always forget the part about why I’m here, why I’m important enough for you to mark yourself this way.
“You’re here ‘cause I’m here, dumbass; ain’t that obvious?”
The laugh again, even louder. And why are you here?
That was always the point where Renji fell silent.
Zabimaru always refused to let the silence prevail.
Ya found me ‘cause ya followed her. Ya learned my name to keep up with her, to surpass her, to earn her. Ya learned how to use me to smash that Senbonzakura bitch an’ and win her. It’s as simple as that.
Sometimes, Renji really thought he’d have preferred it if his zanpakutou was an idiot. Introspection wasn’t his thing either, and he really didn’t want an overgrown primate in his head doing it for him.
I’m here for the same reason you are - ‘cause she is.
“Can’t you just fuckin’ drop it already?”
Hell no. I want you to fight, I want to fight, an’ she’s what you’re fighting for. Good thing the woman doesn’t notice shit, though, or else I’d end up with absolutely nothin’ to do.
As insightful as he could occasionally be, Renji figured that most of the time Zabimaru just completely missed the fucking point.
Another one?
“Yeah.”
How many more?
“Till there’s enough. Quit askin’ stupid questions.”
Until she notices, ya mean.
He was completely still, save for the fingertips trailing lightly over the latest patch of ink.
Y’know that’s why ya do it. You put everything about me out there, right on your skin, just ‘cause you hope that someday she’ll look at you and see what it means.
Still no response but the unconscious caressing of ink.
Or maybe you’re just hopin’ she’ll look at you at all.
Nothing touched his skin but ink and sweat and his own hands, and he tried to pretend that it was enough, tried to ignore the increasingly persistent voice inside his head.
It’s no wonder they stuck us in the 11th for a bit; are you tryin’ to be a masochist or something? It’d be a lot less painful if ya just told her already, instead of you keepin’ this shit up.
And finally, it was Renji’s turn to laugh.
You really have no fucking idea at all, do you?
Prompt :: Write your soul down word for word -- Matchbox Twenty : You Won't Be Mine [10_inspirations]
Characters/Pairing :: Renruki (and Zabimaru!)
Rating :: PG-13
Wordcount :: 433
Summary :: If anyone asked: The tattoos were a representation of Zabimaru.
Notes :: …ldhdfghdha;hkdf;h this entire song is so Renji. ._.;;; (If you haven’t listened, please do, because it is amazing. ♥) And yup, the title comes from it, too.
If anyone asked: The tattoos were a representation of Zabimaru. Renji was never one for hidin’ shit, anyway; Zabimaru was inside him, a part of him, and so everyone damn well ought to see it. Simple enough.
Every time he said this, Zabimaru would rumble a laugh inside his head.
Ya always forget the part about why I’m here, why I’m important enough for you to mark yourself this way.
“You’re here ‘cause I’m here, dumbass; ain’t that obvious?”
The laugh again, even louder. And why are you here?
That was always the point where Renji fell silent.
Zabimaru always refused to let the silence prevail.
Ya found me ‘cause ya followed her. Ya learned my name to keep up with her, to surpass her, to earn her. Ya learned how to use me to smash that Senbonzakura bitch an’ and win her. It’s as simple as that.
Sometimes, Renji really thought he’d have preferred it if his zanpakutou was an idiot. Introspection wasn’t his thing either, and he really didn’t want an overgrown primate in his head doing it for him.
I’m here for the same reason you are - ‘cause she is.
“Can’t you just fuckin’ drop it already?”
Hell no. I want you to fight, I want to fight, an’ she’s what you’re fighting for. Good thing the woman doesn’t notice shit, though, or else I’d end up with absolutely nothin’ to do.
As insightful as he could occasionally be, Renji figured that most of the time Zabimaru just completely missed the fucking point.
Another one?
“Yeah.”
How many more?
“Till there’s enough. Quit askin’ stupid questions.”
Until she notices, ya mean.
He was completely still, save for the fingertips trailing lightly over the latest patch of ink.
Y’know that’s why ya do it. You put everything about me out there, right on your skin, just ‘cause you hope that someday she’ll look at you and see what it means.
Still no response but the unconscious caressing of ink.
Or maybe you’re just hopin’ she’ll look at you at all.
Nothing touched his skin but ink and sweat and his own hands, and he tried to pretend that it was enough, tried to ignore the increasingly persistent voice inside his head.
It’s no wonder they stuck us in the 11th for a bit; are you tryin’ to be a masochist or something? It’d be a lot less painful if ya just told her already, instead of you keepin’ this shit up.
And finally, it was Renji’s turn to laugh.
You really have no fucking idea at all, do you?