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kinkfest2009-11-30 05:15 am
ann89103.livejournal.com) wrote in kinkfest2009-11-30 05:15 am
Subtlety [Bleach, Tousen/Shuuhei, PG-13]
Title: Subtlety
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ann89103
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slight spoiler for manga chapter 383.
Prompt: Bleach, Tousen/Shuuhei. Subtle seduction: Shuuhei never stood a chance.
Word count: 1,678
Summary: Tousen takes on a protégé; things don’t go exactly as planned.
***
You would not have paid him any attention - an unruly child, stubborn and stupid enough to try and fight a hollow with nothing more than a wooden stick and sheer determination - if he hadn’t been trying to protect the other, weaker children that day.
You could still recognize and faintly admire someone with a strong sense of justice, even as you prepared to deceive and betray and murder your comrades and taichou in pursuit of your own. You would have left the child alone and simply continued on with your plans, except for one thing: Muguruma Kensei had seen something in young Hisagi Shuuhei, beneath the tears and stammered words of thanks and nascent case of hero-worship. Kensei had considered the boy worth saving; that was reason enough for you to destroy him.
Except that you didn’t. Sure, you had been very busy, taking command of the Ninth division and following Aizen’s orders these past hundred years, seeking to bring down the very system you once swore so fervently to uphold. But that doesn’t excuse your failure with that child - the child that survived years living on the streets of Rukongai and went on to be considered one of the best and brightest to graduate from the Shinigami Academy.
Even though you left the boy alone in those early years, sure that the street gangs and unsavory predators in the sixty-ninth district would do your job for you, you had every opportunity to ruin Hisagi. Your first efforts were in vain: all you did was delay his entrance into the academy, not prevent it.
Perhaps you were too subtle in your initial attempt at sabotage, ensuring that Hisagi was given the wrong study guide for that year’s entrance exam. Failing the test did nothing to dissuade the young man from his chosen goal. Instead, he redoubled his studies, and was more than prepared for his next attempt at the test.
Having a half-dozen soldiers from your division assault him the night before his second exam was rather dishonorable, but brutally effective. It’s hard to complete a test with a concussion and broken fingers on both hands, but Hisagi still managed to do so. A shame for him none of the examiners cared enough to try to decipher his illegible handwriting.
You did, and came away impressed that day, both by the answers and the injuries the young man inflicted upon your subordinates: when fighting, Hisagi gave as good as he got. On the plus side, it made disposing of those substandard soldiers an even easier task; unfortunately, it also made it painfully clear that the shinigami you held authority over were moderately talented at best.
That is when you realized, with a clarity only achieved once before (when she was killed and justice was slain, your world shattered into shards of glass that you shakily rebuilt into a shining cathedral to righteousness with the pieces painstakingly hand-glued to fit) that instead of killing him you could claim Hisagi as your own. Mold that latent promise and ability into a weapon you could wield; sabotage that integrity and purpose and replace it with your own, improved version. And wouldn’t that destroy him in a far more fitting manner?
So you spent more time at the academy than strictly necessary during those years, even offering classes in philosophy and basic reiatsu manipulation, while all the time doing some studying of your own. The information you gathered was priceless.
Before this, you never quite understood just how young and impressionable these students were; compared to them you felt flawless, envisioned yourself as a source of infinite wisdom. It was no hardship to offer guidance and words of encouragement to the ones who recognized and respected your abilities and values; you soaked up their compliments and gratitude while you cleverly uncovered their flaws and vulnerabilities. Benevolence and praise - measured out carefully, never overdone - wins more hearts and minds than any battle ever could.
You honed in on Hisagi’s two major weaknesses: his obvious desire for a father-figure to look up to and his equally apparent need to protect his friends and colleagues. It would not have been difficult for you develop a strategy to capitalize on these faults. It was, however, amusing that Aizen’s manipulations - totally done for his own benefit - worked to your advantage as well.
The wounds to Hisagi’s face that night, though serious, were insignificant compared to the damage done to his soul. You pulled him away from his charges and his dead friends - always best to strike when your target is most susceptible - and seduced him with gentle words and kindness. You claimed to understand his pain, having lost your own comrades and taichou in a similar attack by hollows almost a hundred years ago, and let the young man draw his own conclusions.
Words are a weapon far superior to any blade: Shuuhei never stood a chance. You smile to yourself - a small, self-satisfied twist of the lips - whenever you re-live that moment, relishing the fact that your chosen victim now idolized and trusted you even more.
It was to no-one’s surprise that Hisagi eventually graduated with top marks and was immediately placed into a seated position with the Ninth division; it was even less of a shock to observe his rapid rise through the ranks, eventually earning the position of fukutaichou.
His success was a testament to your own genius and ability; even better, you still held the keys to his destruction should the need ever arise. You won him over with kindness, then restrained him with fear.
Fear, properly utilized, is an excellent motivator. You chose to use it to control, not inspire. You recognized the latent power in your lieutenant and shrewdly slowed its growth by encouraging discord between Hisagi and his zanpakuto. You never liked the spirit: it’s wildness and ferocity reminded you too much of that silver-haired shinigami you despised.
In this, at least, you were honest. For all your arrogance and self-righteousness, you were -and to this day still are - haunted by fear as well. Only you did not fear power: in your case, you feared death. You never were able to decide if that is because you perceived death as a cold, dark existence, mirroring the lonely years both before and after she lit up your monochrome life, or because you suspecteded deep within your bitter soul that your actions and motivations don’t live up to the exalted principles she stood for.
Instead of honestly wrestling with this dilemma, you buried your unease beneath layers of denial and sanctimonious convictions. You served Aizen fervently, willed yourself to believe in his desire for a democratic, less corrupt society even as you subconsciously remembered never to turn your back on him. During the day you remained the calm, serious taichou everyone knew; but at night you slept badly, restless and tense, punished by a darkness you could not banish by opening your unseeing eyes.
That was when Shuuhei came to you - serious as always but nervous as well - and expressed worry for your well-being. You could not help but be touched by his concern, even as you were irritated by his insight and amused by his naïveté. He was the distraction that you so desperately needed.
It was easy to accept his touch - tentative at first, but gaining confidence and passion as you softly vocalized your approval - as your due. Every kiss felt like worship, and you reveled in the experience. He gave, and you took - exactly the way you always intended all these years, if not exactly in a physical sense - and in doing so you discovered you wanted even more. You reached out, aggressive in a way Shuuhei had never seen in you before, and claimed his body as rightfully yours.
The physical sensations were invigorating and gratifying; that this gift was so freely given made the pleasure even sweeter. Hisagi was your creation: the cool, polite surface demeanor and the trusting, admiring character beneath were all your doing. You greedily devoured the devotion and the ardor, certain that he was completely yours. You relaxed, sated and content, and fell asleep effortlessly for the first time in years with him secure in your arms.
One week later you learned differently. Aizen finally put his plan into motion, stealing the Hogyoku and revealing your treachery. By the end of the day your lieutenant - the young man you so carefully molded into your willing tool - stood by your side, but only to hold his sword at your neck. That’s when you finally acknowledged that the inner strength of character and determination to serve with honor you sensed years ago in Hisagi still thrived despite all your considerable efforts.
From the raw, wounded look he gave you as you escaped, rising towards the heavens, you could tell you had damaged him profoundly, probably more than he even realized. You silently cursed his stubbornness and ethics, berated yourself for your overconfidence and vowed that you would meet again, this time in battle. You will remove the placid, gentle mask you’ve worn for decades, and don the real one that reveals your enhanced, transcendent abilities.
Now you can’t decide how you want that encounter to play out: you envision Shuuhei broken and bleeding, kneeling before you in supplication. You could strip away every last defense with your power, disable his senses entirely before sliding your blade across his exposed, vulnerable throat; you could demolish your masterpiece bit by bit until he existed only as a shattered, sobbing wreck; or you could even start anew with your protégé - that stubbornness would be crushed eventually, and you are convinced he remains susceptible to your manipulations despite this unanticipated setback - taking your time in cajoling and subtly seducing that exquisite, adoring being into existence once more.
After all, once Aizen rules over Soul Society and your distorted brand of justice is in place, you will have all the time in the world to achieve your desires.
Author:
ann89103Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slight spoiler for manga chapter 383.
Prompt: Bleach, Tousen/Shuuhei. Subtle seduction: Shuuhei never stood a chance.
Word count: 1,678
Summary: Tousen takes on a protégé; things don’t go exactly as planned.
***
You would not have paid him any attention - an unruly child, stubborn and stupid enough to try and fight a hollow with nothing more than a wooden stick and sheer determination - if he hadn’t been trying to protect the other, weaker children that day.
You could still recognize and faintly admire someone with a strong sense of justice, even as you prepared to deceive and betray and murder your comrades and taichou in pursuit of your own. You would have left the child alone and simply continued on with your plans, except for one thing: Muguruma Kensei had seen something in young Hisagi Shuuhei, beneath the tears and stammered words of thanks and nascent case of hero-worship. Kensei had considered the boy worth saving; that was reason enough for you to destroy him.
Except that you didn’t. Sure, you had been very busy, taking command of the Ninth division and following Aizen’s orders these past hundred years, seeking to bring down the very system you once swore so fervently to uphold. But that doesn’t excuse your failure with that child - the child that survived years living on the streets of Rukongai and went on to be considered one of the best and brightest to graduate from the Shinigami Academy.
Even though you left the boy alone in those early years, sure that the street gangs and unsavory predators in the sixty-ninth district would do your job for you, you had every opportunity to ruin Hisagi. Your first efforts were in vain: all you did was delay his entrance into the academy, not prevent it.
Perhaps you were too subtle in your initial attempt at sabotage, ensuring that Hisagi was given the wrong study guide for that year’s entrance exam. Failing the test did nothing to dissuade the young man from his chosen goal. Instead, he redoubled his studies, and was more than prepared for his next attempt at the test.
Having a half-dozen soldiers from your division assault him the night before his second exam was rather dishonorable, but brutally effective. It’s hard to complete a test with a concussion and broken fingers on both hands, but Hisagi still managed to do so. A shame for him none of the examiners cared enough to try to decipher his illegible handwriting.
You did, and came away impressed that day, both by the answers and the injuries the young man inflicted upon your subordinates: when fighting, Hisagi gave as good as he got. On the plus side, it made disposing of those substandard soldiers an even easier task; unfortunately, it also made it painfully clear that the shinigami you held authority over were moderately talented at best.
That is when you realized, with a clarity only achieved once before (when she was killed and justice was slain, your world shattered into shards of glass that you shakily rebuilt into a shining cathedral to righteousness with the pieces painstakingly hand-glued to fit) that instead of killing him you could claim Hisagi as your own. Mold that latent promise and ability into a weapon you could wield; sabotage that integrity and purpose and replace it with your own, improved version. And wouldn’t that destroy him in a far more fitting manner?
So you spent more time at the academy than strictly necessary during those years, even offering classes in philosophy and basic reiatsu manipulation, while all the time doing some studying of your own. The information you gathered was priceless.
Before this, you never quite understood just how young and impressionable these students were; compared to them you felt flawless, envisioned yourself as a source of infinite wisdom. It was no hardship to offer guidance and words of encouragement to the ones who recognized and respected your abilities and values; you soaked up their compliments and gratitude while you cleverly uncovered their flaws and vulnerabilities. Benevolence and praise - measured out carefully, never overdone - wins more hearts and minds than any battle ever could.
You honed in on Hisagi’s two major weaknesses: his obvious desire for a father-figure to look up to and his equally apparent need to protect his friends and colleagues. It would not have been difficult for you develop a strategy to capitalize on these faults. It was, however, amusing that Aizen’s manipulations - totally done for his own benefit - worked to your advantage as well.
The wounds to Hisagi’s face that night, though serious, were insignificant compared to the damage done to his soul. You pulled him away from his charges and his dead friends - always best to strike when your target is most susceptible - and seduced him with gentle words and kindness. You claimed to understand his pain, having lost your own comrades and taichou in a similar attack by hollows almost a hundred years ago, and let the young man draw his own conclusions.
Words are a weapon far superior to any blade: Shuuhei never stood a chance. You smile to yourself - a small, self-satisfied twist of the lips - whenever you re-live that moment, relishing the fact that your chosen victim now idolized and trusted you even more.
It was to no-one’s surprise that Hisagi eventually graduated with top marks and was immediately placed into a seated position with the Ninth division; it was even less of a shock to observe his rapid rise through the ranks, eventually earning the position of fukutaichou.
His success was a testament to your own genius and ability; even better, you still held the keys to his destruction should the need ever arise. You won him over with kindness, then restrained him with fear.
Fear, properly utilized, is an excellent motivator. You chose to use it to control, not inspire. You recognized the latent power in your lieutenant and shrewdly slowed its growth by encouraging discord between Hisagi and his zanpakuto. You never liked the spirit: it’s wildness and ferocity reminded you too much of that silver-haired shinigami you despised.
In this, at least, you were honest. For all your arrogance and self-righteousness, you were -and to this day still are - haunted by fear as well. Only you did not fear power: in your case, you feared death. You never were able to decide if that is because you perceived death as a cold, dark existence, mirroring the lonely years both before and after she lit up your monochrome life, or because you suspecteded deep within your bitter soul that your actions and motivations don’t live up to the exalted principles she stood for.
Instead of honestly wrestling with this dilemma, you buried your unease beneath layers of denial and sanctimonious convictions. You served Aizen fervently, willed yourself to believe in his desire for a democratic, less corrupt society even as you subconsciously remembered never to turn your back on him. During the day you remained the calm, serious taichou everyone knew; but at night you slept badly, restless and tense, punished by a darkness you could not banish by opening your unseeing eyes.
That was when Shuuhei came to you - serious as always but nervous as well - and expressed worry for your well-being. You could not help but be touched by his concern, even as you were irritated by his insight and amused by his naïveté. He was the distraction that you so desperately needed.
It was easy to accept his touch - tentative at first, but gaining confidence and passion as you softly vocalized your approval - as your due. Every kiss felt like worship, and you reveled in the experience. He gave, and you took - exactly the way you always intended all these years, if not exactly in a physical sense - and in doing so you discovered you wanted even more. You reached out, aggressive in a way Shuuhei had never seen in you before, and claimed his body as rightfully yours.
The physical sensations were invigorating and gratifying; that this gift was so freely given made the pleasure even sweeter. Hisagi was your creation: the cool, polite surface demeanor and the trusting, admiring character beneath were all your doing. You greedily devoured the devotion and the ardor, certain that he was completely yours. You relaxed, sated and content, and fell asleep effortlessly for the first time in years with him secure in your arms.
One week later you learned differently. Aizen finally put his plan into motion, stealing the Hogyoku and revealing your treachery. By the end of the day your lieutenant - the young man you so carefully molded into your willing tool - stood by your side, but only to hold his sword at your neck. That’s when you finally acknowledged that the inner strength of character and determination to serve with honor you sensed years ago in Hisagi still thrived despite all your considerable efforts.
From the raw, wounded look he gave you as you escaped, rising towards the heavens, you could tell you had damaged him profoundly, probably more than he even realized. You silently cursed his stubbornness and ethics, berated yourself for your overconfidence and vowed that you would meet again, this time in battle. You will remove the placid, gentle mask you’ve worn for decades, and don the real one that reveals your enhanced, transcendent abilities.
Now you can’t decide how you want that encounter to play out: you envision Shuuhei broken and bleeding, kneeling before you in supplication. You could strip away every last defense with your power, disable his senses entirely before sliding your blade across his exposed, vulnerable throat; you could demolish your masterpiece bit by bit until he existed only as a shattered, sobbing wreck; or you could even start anew with your protégé - that stubbornness would be crushed eventually, and you are convinced he remains susceptible to your manipulations despite this unanticipated setback - taking your time in cajoling and subtly seducing that exquisite, adoring being into existence once more.
After all, once Aizen rules over Soul Society and your distorted brand of justice is in place, you will have all the time in the world to achieve your desires.