out of bloom .

i am stretched on your grave .

[vaingore]

BLOOD MOON .

# vaingore . kuchiki byakuya from kubo's bleach . canon divergent . he is a god of death , a born-patrician & military leader . inspired by kitty horrorshow's anatomy , hadestown & buck-tick's discography . rules & information . est 2014 .

affiliates : frostdanced , fukouhei .

Visit Original Link

my heart is a tomb , my heart is an empty room . i became a resounding let go . we bear no fruit , no flowers , no life . all the world's wilting . so , hold on to the pain of a love taken from you .

[fukouhei]

THAT TONE RARELY, if ever, breeds confidence. it cuts through the idle chatter he's exchanging with subordinates, and renji swears he feels the temperature between them drop a few degrees. the officers that flank him shrink into the background, muttering falsities about gosh, look at the time and better get back to that report i was writing. the weight of their stares remain on his shoulders as he follows his captain obediently, neutral and confident but for the tension wrought between inked brows.

THE ADMONISHMENT COULD be anything. renji steels himself, breath held - and when the comment is revealed, he nearly chokes on the breath he was holding.

“ TOO...MUCH? ” RENJI echoes, and then it clicks. oh. that work. renji's eyes immediately drift to the same fruit trees, his hands finding his pockets. perhaps he had pushed his luck the night before over those mission reports. “ my apologies, captain kuchiki. ” his words lack conviction, and renji winces. “ i didn't think i'd ever get t'...work with ya' like that. i may 've gotten a little carried away. ”

[vaingore]

byakuya has never forgotten anything. every moment in a series of images so that he might find everything he needs in a refined mental catalogue. he is never late. not a singular piece of paperwork out of line, a hair out of place, a moment not-early-enough in his office. but yesterday . . . ! he had intended to hand off a report to the 12th division for their investigation. an anomaly in what should've been a regular outing in the human world. he had already sent word to captain kurotsuchi, all was in order before closing his doors for the evening.

" like that . . . " he looks to renji then, out of the corner of his eye. there's always been something piercing in those inhuman greys of his. but there's a glimmer, the smallest glitter of amusement. an implication he gleans, for once, to renji's great misfortune.

wait ! his focus is impossible to shatter. " the opportunity to hand off to the twelfth division had grown quite narrow. " a near-miss some might call it. the report results were nothing of concern. but what if he had forgotten entirely ? the laboratories locked for the evening and a great enemy on the horizon.

[vaingore]

@frostdanced. — nii-sama, is pyonpyon hiding in your room again ?

pyonpyon . . . a member of the family he didn't agree to so much as he found it under rukia's bed when putting her haori in her room. he hadn't the heart to turn her away, she cradled the rabbit to her chest, looked at him with eyes like lavender moons and said brother, please. byakuya conceded. he underestimated how often he and pyonpyon would be left to their own devices. how often he might find the rabbit curled in his closet, shedding hairs clinging to the hakama of his shihakusho.

there's a stretch of silence. something about the name is just so undignified. he's always careful to say pyonpyon as little as possible. " i haven't seen him. you may check the room thoroughly. it would be best if he was kept out of my belongings. "

" pyonpyon . . . is your responsibility. "

[frostdanced]

you don't have to take this on .

meme / accepting.

his words barely registered in her mind, the sound of his voice dulled behind the echo of her heartbeat that hadn't settled for the last several seconds. minutes ago she had found him in the hallways of the sixth division's offices, told moments prior that her brother had been looking for her, and felt mild apprehension and anxiety over what he wished to speak with her about. now she just had a single sentence echoing in her brain.

you've been tasked with going to the world of the living.

it was a simple mission that would see her in and out within a day at most, seeking the execution of some low-rank hollow, but it was still one that felt tremendous for her! in spite of her good grades and work ethic, she had seen herself not given as many chances as her former academy peer. by now most who had been in her class had already exterminated numerous hollows and gone to the world of the living twice over. but her? she'd been saddled with simple errands and tasks, largely paperwork really. this was a first! it left her with a feeling of pride and a hope to do well, not just because of her own ego, but because she wanted to prove herself strong and capable to byakuya kuchiki, her brother. rukia saw this mission as a chance to possibly pay him back for the things he'd done for her. prove herself deserving of the kuchiki name.

"but i want to, nii-sama! i promise you, you don't have to worry. i know it's my first one like this, but i'm confident it will go smoothly. i promise i'll tell you once i'm back!" i don't ever want to disappoint you...

in several weeks, the young kuchiki would be listed for execution.

[vaingore]

@fukouhei. — “ i got ya' something. ” uncharacteristically nervous, light on their feet, renji approaches his captain's desk in the dim light cast by the waning sun outside the window. he holds out a paper box, a nervous palm scrubbing over the back of his head. his smile, though small, is as warm as the fire in his chest that never goes out. “ i noticed ya' worked right through dinner. thought you might find a few minutes to eat. ” he deposits it on the desk, folding his hands behind his back. “ i could join ya'. if you want. ”

there's a silent pause. his face betrays nothing, not the thoughts he rolls around his skull, not the pleasure nor the smallest shade of modesty. it's a foreign feeling for him, at least, in his solitary life. he supposes, retrospectively, he was always reserved in matters of the heart. uncharacteristically timid, even. byakuya hides it well. he often hides behind a lashing of tongues, sharp words and criticisms, a glance too-long, a purse of his narrow lips in disapproval.

" sit, " he nods to the chair across from him. it's an invitation and an acceptance of the gesture. byakuya had resigned himself to a meal when he returned home. something prepared and gone cold by the time he's settled in for the evening. it needn't be pleasant, really, just enough to feed his spiritual pressure. this is the kinder outcome. he recalls rukia's rice porridge, hisana's curry, and now renji's boxed dinner. his face softens, a little warmer around his eyes, a purse to his lips that is almost a smile.

byakuya unfolds the box and eats without question. it's surprisingly serviceable. better than that, actually. there's a quirk in the corner of his mouth. well, he supposes he never asked if renji could cook or not. " stay behind, we have much to finish before tomorrow. you needn't stay late again if it's too much. "

[vaingore]

@fukouhei.

" we have something to discuss, " his tone catches the attention of some idle officers. sharp, sharper than he needs to be. byakuya stares ahead, steady, unfaltering. the officers pretend to busy themselves, oh, what's that on your uniform ? did you pass on the papers i asked you to ? do you need help in the human world tomorrow ? their muttering carries them away and leaves byakuya behind with his lieutenant.

" come, " an order, like any. he folds his hands behind his back, follows a path of smoothed stone away from the barracks. the walls have ears. " you've been enjoying your work all too-much as of late, " he does not speak plainly, for once. he's not so learned in matters of the heart. his gaze is fixated on unbloomed fruit trees. " it is ... unprofessional. "

[frostdanced]

she stands before the entrance to his room like a child. she is old and yet not, any belief in her age fades away in the face of her elder brother, always far behind him in the race of life. rather than that be a notion that could fill her with anxiety or a feeling of failure, it offers her odd comfort. it means he'll always be waiting for her, watching her in the distance, his form never wavering or leaving her vision. no matter how far, he will always be there. it's a comfort she's sought all her life. a thing she used to wish for upon falling stars.

"what is it about, nii-sama?" rukia's movements are careful and quiet as she walks over to him, like a mouse or small cat trying to not draw attention. it's just how she is, how she's always been. if she is not trying to be bigger than she is then she is like so. years of survival have left her to always be on guard on some level, but she tries to find ease of mind as she sits beside her brother. her violet eyes hold a quiet look of curiosity, always interested in the stories her brother reads.

[vaingore]

" it's an anthology. " his hand pauses on the cover, it is a nō mask wildly grinning back at him. how many times has he read it now ? perhaps the passing years have forgotten him, locked him in a era where nothing new could be made, where all the storytellers are stuck with him, in this place. no, rather, in a worse place than here. in the out-skirting towns with nothing to eat and a knife hidden in the folds of every merchant. he wonders if they're writing. he wonders if he will ever get to read it.

rukia settles next to him. he pulls back the long fabric of his haori to make room for her, should she find her eyes heavy as the night grows long. she's still young, always young in his eyes. his a navy blue, with stitching at the sleeves and along the collar, it's humbler than his captain's haori.

" nō, kyogen, kabuki, bunraku theatre, in particular. you may have your pick. "

[vaingore]

@frostdanced. — stands in his doorway with her big ol' eyes.

he hears her, feels her, before her shadow darkens his threshold. but he hardly moves, there is the barest rise and fall of his chest and the quiet scratch of a page turning under his fingertips. he waits, patient, eyes following each archaic character of a play he's never seen.

rukia doesn't say anything. another beat of his heart. finally, he meets her gaze. she waits an invitation, too-meek to find her words. he removes the blanket from his legs, baring the cushion next to him. and returns to the beginning of his play, the progress of a few hundred pages lost.

" sit. i will begin again. listen carefully. "

[ffxvcaps]

BLEACH: TYBW → Byakuya Kuchiki