Another one of these things. Post your chara/pairing and prompt, I'll write a tiny three to five sentence ficlet and leave my own prompt, replying with a ficlet gets you another prompt, lather rinse repeat.

;3 Just making a single request and not replying is fine, too.

From: [identity profile]

I think we only have one pair in common! You know whos
Prompt: Capture, drown, boastful.

Unless you mean something more detailed O:?

From: [identity profile]

Hanatarou spit out water and clung to Ganju's shoulders. "I can't, I can't!"

"It's just a little bit of water, barely up to your own damned knees!"

Ganju went silent when Hanatarou let out a keening wail, "I drowned the first time!"


If you'd like: Robin/Franky, sunset.

From: [identity profile]

"This sunset is particularly super." Franky thought the appreciative look he gave Robin was sure to melt any woman's heart. "Nothin' compared to you though-"

Robin could only arc a brow at the sea, "It may have been, if it weren't raining." The sky and sea a duo of greys.

Franky snorted and ducked his head. A guy could try.


Unohana and Kenpachi: First impressions?

From: [identity profile]

At first, he thought she was weak to sit in silence and offer no opinion of her own while the other captains wailed and gnashed their teeth. Then Unohana spoke.

"It was honorable and witnessed combat. Captain Takahashi lost just as much to his won arrogance as he did this man's blade."

The arguement raged on after, but Kenpachi knew it had been won with her words alone.


Keigo, sword.

From: [identity profile]

Fourth Division! The prompt: "There's no lost-and-found box. There's an ass box ("

From: [identity profile]

At first, Iemura was pleased when Ogidou brought him a new inkwell. It was small and smartly polished and Iemura thought it showed a nice combination of initiative and respect from his subordinate. A week later, Ogidou presented Iemura with a small stone on which to grind his inks. Again, Iemura was pleased. It was only later that he thought to ask why when one of the Eleventh Division patients had taken a look at his new inkwell and gone a rather peculiar shade of pale.

"So that's what they do with that stuff when they take it out..."


If you'd be interested: Isane and Itegumo, bankai training.

Repost for slight edit.

From: [identity profile]

The wind howled like a wolf, whipping around Isane and kicking up snow flurries and crystalline shards of ice; she lifted her arm to protect her eyes from the blinding gusts, but still carefully observed her opponent. "Many years have you known my name, and yet you have not mastered my power. How long must I wait?" asked Itegumo for the hundredth time from across the clearing. They were encircled by evergreen trees, and Itegumo's white body stood out in stark contrast against the dark foliage, his eyes and teeth pearly bright and piercing.

Isane knew what he wanted: they had frequent rematches, and though she always failed to catch him in his races, the tensing of her muscles was proof she hadn't yet given up hope of besting him and achieving bankai. "Just a few moments longer, my friend," she replied, grinning and throwing herself into a break-neck sprint.


How about... Isane's thoughts on the previous Fourth lieutenant?

From: [identity profile]

Isane was Tenth Seat when she met him and Third Seat when he retired. She watched him on his last day, struggling with his cane to stay upright and struggling with his hands to stop shaking. "Sir, I can get that, I--"

"That's quite alright, Miss Kotetsu." Seinosuke Yamada looked around and regarded his packed belongings with a faint sigh and fond smile. "You've done more than enough."

"...We'll miss you."

Seinosuke found a moment of calm stillness to press a kiss to Isane's forehead. "I know. I'm glad I'll get a chance to see my family, but... it's been an honor to serve here with you and the others."

Isane nodded and went back to work. It was only later that she let the tears fall and only later that she could thank him in silence for saying what she could not.


Kiyone and Sentaro, Co-Lieutenants.

From: [identity profile]

The silence in the Thirteenth Division was only punctuated by the sound of burning rubble and Ukitake's rising blood pressure. He looked over his shoulder from the smoldering remains of a bonsai tree he'd been pruning to the building behind him and his two gawping lieutenants. The doorway in which they were standing was now less like a doorway and more like a giant hole in the wall.

A piece of masonry fell with a loud thunk and Kiyone abruptly pointed to Sentarou, who was, apparently, taking a bit longer to reengage his mental faculties. "S-sir!" she stammered, "he did it!"

"WHAT?" Sentarou shrieked in response, rounding on her.

"You heard me! You shouldn't have been practicing kidou so near the captain! What if you'd blown him up?!"

"As if a little stray kidou could do any damage to our captain! You shouldn't have--"

Ukitake interrupted the budding argument with an authoritative clearing of his throat. "Why don't you two just start cleaning this up?" he suggested calmly, refraining from smearing his palm down his face in exasperation. The two of them snapped to attention and set immediately about the task, cowed by Ukitake's gentle but admonishing tone.

Later that evening, Shunsui laughed and laughed at Jyuushirou's recounting of the story. "Remind me why you promoted them, again?" he asked, drinking deeply of his sake.

"I needed a lieutenant," Jyuushirou replied with a smile. "Besides, I like them. They have a lot of promise. They could be fine captains someday if they'd just stop fighting and admit they like each other."

Shunsui snorted as he downed another cup. "That'll be quit a sight."

Jyuushirou nodded, and his face looked ancient and kind. "Indeed it will be."


Long drabble is long. How about this prompt. Nanao: Combat Secretary. What happens when Nanao gets loaned to the Eleventh to help fix their backlogged paperwork?

From: [identity profile]

The only thing that kept Kenpachi from laughing in her face was the cold warrior's stare she directed right back on him. So he grinned right back instead and Nanao simply stomped right past him and into Yachiru's seldom used Vice-Captain's office. A shriek echoed down the hallway and Kenpachi snorted. "Guess she found what's left of Yachiru's emergency stash."

If the other members of the Eleventh gave her grief over the next few weeks, she didn't complain about it to him, and the only indication there might have been any problem at all were a few unseated officers that seemed to keep an odd limp and a sheepish look on their faces. Nanao appeared to Kenpachi only to request more forms or to ask where the paper and ink were at since no one else seemed to care. He told her where and she'd make a face and go off after it. If not for those infrequent meetings, he might think she wasn't on loan from the Eighth at all.

It took a while for him to notice just how much she was doing after all. New uniforms appeared from nowhere, even if no one wore them until Kenpachi growled and grinned that it might be a good suggestion. Some of the seated offices almost looked presentable after that.

From: [identity profile]

There was a hole in the wall and still sizzling wires on the other side of it. Vlad pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Yes, Jack, I know you have the plaster right there and ready. Good boy. But did it occur to you we might need to cut the power before we patch the wall?"

"Right ahead of ya, good buddy!"

"What? Jack, no!"

Later, when power had finally been restored to the entire city, they managed to repair the wall.

From: [identity profile]

It wasn't sleep because even in his dreams, loud and fever bright, he kept moving and struggling. White sand and white halls, bleached bones and bleached surgical sheets. Hanatarou knew he was awake because the world stopped shifting, even if he couldn't be sure that he wasn't still dreaming. Isane's cool hand stroked his forehead and the burning in his chest finally stopped. Still that white sand all around them.


Isane, brave.

From: [identity profile]

Isane knew a lot of people didn’t think much of Hanatarou. The bullies called him a klutz, an idiot, a coward. But how many people would have faced Kuchiki-taichou when he was angry? To face him, knowing (because he had to know) that a taichou wouldn’t even need to use his shikai to kill a mere seventh seat. No, Hanatarou was brave. Isane didn’t know if she’d have had the courage to do what he did, to break the rules to protect her friends. Maybe, if she were brave like him, she could tell him how she felt about him.

From: [identity profile]

Toothless couldn't always fly. There were times when Hiccup's clever hands were be needed to repair the harness and tail fin that made it possible for the dragon to take to the sky and Toothless would always struggle. He'd scurry up trees and to rooftops, cling to cliff faces and dangle over the edge. During the storms, however, when the sky roared and the clouds spit fire, Toothless never left Hiccup's side, not even when the harness was finished. Guarding him from the storm, from the memory.


Something from the Survivor AU?

From: [identity profile]

Years ago, Nemu had concluded that love was a word with no meaning. How could one define a word if one could use it to refer not only to one’s favorite food, but also to one’s sexual partner. Presumably the preference for one food over another was not the same as the feeling between partners, yet the word seemed to be used indiscriminately. So when she found herself watching Hanatarou, becoming angry when he was hurt, seeking out his company, wanting him to think well of her, she didn’t understand why.

She turned to the young man sitting by the wall next to her. “Hanatarou…I do not have a basis for comparison, but I believe I may be experiencing the emotion called love.”

He couldn’t answer her, but the hug he gave her was all the answer she needed.


Isshin, visit

From: [identity profile]

The rain fell thick and heavy and Isshin stood in silence before Masaki's grave. In some ways, the rain had become as much a tradition for the yearly visits as Isshin's presence. He welcomed it in all it's forms, light and cold and misting to hard and muggy. It was a strange compromise between offering Masaki a thousand tears and never crying in front of their children.


Survivor AU, hope.

From: [identity profile]

Nanao didn't know how he did it.

Jyuushirou had grown terribly weak in the last few months, barely able to stand for ten minutes at a time. But no matter how sick he was, how much pain he was in (and she knew he was in almost constant pain), he always found time to encourage their recruits. A smile for one, a gentle pat on the shoulder for another. A question about how someone's brother was doing. All simple things. But it gave them hope. And her cynical side knew that even after he died, his memory would become a beacon, and his belief would become the hope they needed to rally themselves against Aizen.

Sometimes, she hated herself for using him like that.


Hanatarou, dragon

From: [identity profile]

Ichigo had become a shinigami and Ishida had become a college student. Some days, Ishida would swear that Ichigo resented him for not following all the way to Soul Society. Long hours full of subtle insinuation and sullen conversation, meeting not because they wanted to but because it was the only time they could. So many words and nothing said at all. Ishida always thought it such a wonder, then, when a single hell butterfly would appear from time to time and Ichigo could say so very much with a simple, "I miss you."


Ganju, Hanatarou, and Tatsuki; teamwork. ;3

From: [identity profile]

[We changed the prompt to Ganju x Hanatarou; accidental kiss.]

There was a spider on Hanatarou's face. It wasn't moving, so he was pleasantly unaware, but Ganju was sure the damn thing was staring him down, daring him to inform the smaller man.

"You think you're so damn sneaky, don't you?" Ganju leaned down and put himself face-to-face with the eight-legged creature. Of course, this also put him face-to-face with Hanatarou.

"What do you mean?" Hanatarou asked, surprised by the question he'd assumed had been asked of him.

At that moment the spider decided to start crawling, and Hanatarou became all too aware of its presence.

"Eeep!" he yelped, jumping forward in fright, causing his lips to crash against Ganju's. The two men remained that way for several seconds before fully realizing the position they were in.

The spider dropped the ground, forgotten, its work done.


I think I like this pairing! Ganju x Hanatarou; need. (:

From: [identity profile]

Hanatarou tried to tug the hem of his shirt down over his boxers. "Ganju-san..."

"You in or out?"

He looked at the cards in his hand and then at Ganju's confident grin. Hanatarou laid down a pair that matched, still not quite certain of what won or not. "Ah..."

"I beat it!" Ganju slapped down his own cards, a jumbled mess that had nothing in common but color. "Lose the shirt!"

Hanatarou was starting to think Ganju enjoyed the 'strip' part more than the 'poker.'


Vlad Plasmius, complacency.

From: [identity profile]

Vlad smirked smugly as he squirted some of the sun tan lotion into his hand. His skin tended to burn easily, but that would be a small price to pay for this moment. When else would he get the chance to rub sun tan lotion on Maddie's back while they were at a picturesque beach in Hawaii?

Jack, the bumbling buffoon, was too busy splashing around in the water to even notice what was happening between Vlad and Maddie. Not that Vlad minded, in this instance, Jack's idiocy.

Vlad, though, was too involved with his fantasy-turned-reality to notice the two pair of eyes boring in his back.


Kwan, loss.


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