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27 June 2008 @ 04:43 pm
Title: Slut
Character: Nemu
Fandom: Bleach
Genre: General, Introspective
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 240

She’s used to it, by now, after nearly a hundred years. But sometimes, someone or another would stop and stare and stare and stare till she glared and they ran, like cinders about to flare.

Scared, she thinks. Good. That was how it is supposed to be. But she’s got no biting wit, no sharp, infallible acumen that can tear down buildings (skyscrapers, the word she learned from Kuchiki) and hearts. That was the worst part. Almost like she is tied up—bound to—him.

And in a way, so it is

Creator, father—the ugly euphemism. It likes to mock, and its derisions are force-fed, hell-bent, born from fire. And woe. Because he’s never failed to remind her of that. This is not existence, this is convenience.

And so, she conveniently forgot what was said.

Slut. The word comes out of nowhere, a slinking, sliding figure—there, disappeared. And not here, anymore. Someone (who?) said that and left and left her to feel like shit. But this isn’t so bad (she is reasoning, thinking logically, being rational—being not human).

Because she doesn’t even know the meaning of that word.

And somehow, it’s got her feeling all enraged. All stuffed and bloated and thrashed around. Like him and her after that.


Nemu is told, made to reiterate again and again, a kind of torturous inculcation. (She is still speaking, wound-up like some demonic incantation.) That—

Slut means—