The Shinigami King grew tired of his play, so he asked an old soul to change it.
Otherwise known as what happens when an eccentric, morally questionable, teeny tiny overpowered old soul is gifted an Evil™ sword and thrown in a couple thousand years...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Ruru!"
"Captain!"
"Ruru!"
"Captain!"
"RURU!"
"CAPTAIN!"
Rukia and I embraced in her cell. I had morphed my body to that of an average-sized woman so I could pick her up and swing her around and nuzzle her. While we were having our reunion, my kaleidoscope carried blankets, pillows, games, books, and so on into her cell. By the time I was satisfied with my Rukia-cuddles, my kaleidoscope had finished carrying all the comforts Rukia would need.
"Ruru," I cooed, "are you okay?"
"I'm okay," she assured me, her face creased with worry. "I'm... sorry. I brought shame—"
"Shhh, no, no. You did perfectly, my dearest lieutenant," I assured. "Please do not worry. Everything is going according to plan."
"To plan?" Rukia asked.
I smiled. "Yes. A scheme is afoot."
Rukia beamed, her large stormy-blue eyes shined. "One of yours?"
"No, but one that needs to happen. Do you trust me, Ruru?"
"With my life."
"Good. First, please rest assured—you will not die. I will not let it happen. But I need you to play along until the day of—no, right up until the moment. Can you be my damsel in distress?"
Rukia stepped away from me and kneeled. "By your orders, my captain."
A wide grin stretched over my face. "Thank you, my lieutenant."
'Fufufufu.'
(◕▾◕✿)
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
