"You're worth dying for."



           For as long as she had walked this realm
           there was no man she would have cared
           less to be in such a predicament than with
           Urahara Kisuke and yet here they stood
           together on the cusp of something desperate.

           Though easily concealed ( had they not both
           originally hailed from the same base of stealth? )
           soon even that would be of no comfort or lasting
           benefit. And from their minds and military expertise
           what was needed but a diversion? Of this fact
           they were well aware—— so the makeup of them
           and 5 men would draw lots so that it came down to
           two: she and the man her hatred burned for.

           Ah! But what was this? The shopkeeper drew the
           straw of smaller proportion so that he would be the
           one to make the sacrifice and where her heart was
           cold to his wiles so now her lip quivered at the thought
           thus reaching her hand in exchange for his portion.

           Of course he would protest, a heated exchange ensuing
           until words she never thought he would utter spilled forth
           and washed over her like a pyroclastic flow— seeking to
           trap her in her shame and guilt.

                                                 ”You’re worth dying for!”

           Still it was not to be as he said, for who was she in
           comparison to him? She was given to protect, yes her very
           purpose to lay down and die, once serving as a human shield
           there was no other way of life she knew and so the straw was
           ripped from his hand.

                                                 “No Kisuke. I’m not. I wasn’t worth
                                                  looking back for then and I am not worth
                                                  laying down for now. Soul Society needs you.
                                                  She needs you. Please tell her I loved her.”

           And the hornet would turn, lead the advancements away, give her
           essence to the man she hated— for his survival and her death were
           necessary not only for victory, but for retribution as a whole


brave little soldier

baby’s gone to ωαя

oh yes, you’re such a brave little soldier 

but what do you fight for?

wash your hands all you like

bloodstains don’t come off

cry yourself sick ——

                                             doeѕɴ’т cнαɴɢe wнαт yoυ’ve doɴe

#musings. #bye #q 

The monster never gets a happy ending.
"Hey-- say something!"
Death Memes -- Send me one for my muses reaction

             But he couldn’t. 

                   Not with that sword in his chest.

            He did attempt to say something, however the moment his mouth opened blood had seeped out like a fountain. He quickly covered his mouth with his hand, but it did not stop the row of painful coughs, his lungs desperately trying to remove the liquid before it would drown in it’s own blood.

                        Before he would drown in his own blood. 

            Kisuke removed his hand, pulling the sword out from his chest with a painful grunt— however, it was underplayed, for the actual pain sent him into near shock. He held onto area where the scar was, deep within his right side. He shoved the sword into the ground beside him, using it as an object to prop himself up, before attempting to give a frivolous smile.

            “Shopkeepers don’t get stabbed quiet often, huh?” He coughed, the feeling of daggersin his throat. “Only in armed robberies…. but this isn’t an armed robbery,” he chuckled, the laughter sounding more akin to sobs. He wanted to laugh, he wanted Renji to laugh so that it would not hurt. He didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore. He didn’t want anyone to cry anymore.

            His own blood covered hand took Renji’s, not holding on desperately, not holding it as if he were begging for life. But he held it like a father would hold their son’s hand for the first time. Gently. Calmly. He didn’t want the last thing he touched to be the sword, something that killed. But Renji’s hand, which was though calloused from training and fighting, saved lives than killed them.

             ”I have one last chore for you, if you will,” he muttered, vision slowly turning dark. “Please make sure Jinta and Ururu are safe. They’re my life. They’re everything I’ve ever fought for. Thank you, Abarai-san. You’ve done a perfect job, I couldn’t ask for better.”

when you make the mistake of sending Nahal a meme


"I'm sorry. For being so weak."
Death Memes -- Send me one for my muses reaction


                       He held her close to him, maybe for a reaction, for her to pull away angrily. Or maybe it was just a desperate plea. Just to hold her tightly enough that blood no longer would spill. Maybe, just maybe it would make her live, even if it was a little longer.

                       Because she deserved life more than he did, and he knew it.

                      “Stay awake, you need to stay awake. You have to go to Yoruichi, you have a division to take of—…” He stammered, holding her closer so that her head would rest upon his shoulder, so that she would not see the water lining the bottoms of blond lashes. He kept holding onto her, a boiling pot of emotions consuming him. “Please stay awake, Soi fon. I know you can stay awake, I know you’re strong enough. Please—. Just please—"

                        It was his fault. All his fault that she thought this. That her body would go cold with the belief she wasn’t strong enough tattoo’d to her. He couldn’t let her go like that, he wouldn’t allow it.

                        “—Please don’t let yourself believe that lie.”


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