songdancing (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
songdancing) wrote2011-12-26 07:00 pm
songdancing) wrote2011-12-26 07:00 pm
Entry tags:
Ceremonials part 1
Characters are from Bleach, Music used was Florence + The Machine's new album Ceremonials, and one song was used for each drabble. Headcanon ahoy! ...there are no tags because I need to edit the settings. Enjoy!
If Only For A Night
She remembered the first time Ixchael sang to her still, almost as clear as day. She'd always had too much reiatsu and not enough control, and when the day finally came when she lost control, she demolished three barracks of the Eighth Division. She was trapped alone in the middle of a cyclone of her own making, horribly alone, when a warm and soft hand smoothed along the back of her neck, and a warm and soft voice sang lullabies to her, and she managed to start breathing again. Those hands of her spirit were replaced by tangible hands belonging to her Captain, and he helped her pull herself back together, reassmbling her scattered mind, pulling her soul back inside herself. She whimpered apologies, he murmured comfort/
Shake It Out
She worked harder than anyone simply to keep control, even with reiatsu-blocking glasses. Her skin used to spark and glow when she was sad, angry, over-joyed, and eventually she learnt to suppress that too, but she could never quite stop her eyes from flashing with barely-controlled energy. They used to whisper behind her back that she was useless, with a pathetic excuse for a zanpakutou. Kidou was all very well, they said, but you can't cleanse a Hollow with magic alone. And then she crippled a Menos on the hot dusty plains of North Africa with spells and shikai, and no one questioned her appointment to the position of Vice-Captain ever again.
What The Water Gave Me
Nightmares of water sliding over her as warm and as thick as blood, the surface within reach and yet unbreachable, a man (once family) calling her a traitor and slitting her throat, monsters both human and inhuman chasing her, hunting her, howling for her blood – Nanao's dreams were rarely cruel and terrifying, but when they turned dark, she woke up drenched in sweat, and a scream ready to escape her throat. Unohana's remedies were good, but not quite good enough to suppress the terrors that her mind constructed every so often, and she'd go to her desk and fill out form after form and make sure that someone else took the advanced kidou lessons, because the energy under her skin roiled and bubbled, and she knew he noticed. After all, how could he not?
If Only For A Night
She remembered the first time Ixchael sang to her still, almost as clear as day. She'd always had too much reiatsu and not enough control, and when the day finally came when she lost control, she demolished three barracks of the Eighth Division. She was trapped alone in the middle of a cyclone of her own making, horribly alone, when a warm and soft hand smoothed along the back of her neck, and a warm and soft voice sang lullabies to her, and she managed to start breathing again. Those hands of her spirit were replaced by tangible hands belonging to her Captain, and he helped her pull herself back together, reassmbling her scattered mind, pulling her soul back inside herself. She whimpered apologies, he murmured comfort/
Shake It Out
She worked harder than anyone simply to keep control, even with reiatsu-blocking glasses. Her skin used to spark and glow when she was sad, angry, over-joyed, and eventually she learnt to suppress that too, but she could never quite stop her eyes from flashing with barely-controlled energy. They used to whisper behind her back that she was useless, with a pathetic excuse for a zanpakutou. Kidou was all very well, they said, but you can't cleanse a Hollow with magic alone. And then she crippled a Menos on the hot dusty plains of North Africa with spells and shikai, and no one questioned her appointment to the position of Vice-Captain ever again.
What The Water Gave Me
Nightmares of water sliding over her as warm and as thick as blood, the surface within reach and yet unbreachable, a man (once family) calling her a traitor and slitting her throat, monsters both human and inhuman chasing her, hunting her, howling for her blood – Nanao's dreams were rarely cruel and terrifying, but when they turned dark, she woke up drenched in sweat, and a scream ready to escape her throat. Unohana's remedies were good, but not quite good enough to suppress the terrors that her mind constructed every so often, and she'd go to her desk and fill out form after form and make sure that someone else took the advanced kidou lessons, because the energy under her skin roiled and bubbled, and she knew he noticed. After all, how could he not?