A/N: I'm addicted to Bleach fanfiction, it's official. They're shooting off like firecrackers in my brain. And I'm only on Season five. More will follow, I assure you.

A/N: This is a drabble collection. I'll update pretty regularly, if not like every hour or something. Various themes, pairings, times, possibly even an AU thrown in at random. All for fun, so no apologies. And if you have an idea for a drabble or something you'd like to see, just let me know via private message. I'll see what I can do.

Drabble Collection: when in doubt, bleach it out

We are the sum of our experiences. We do not tremble. We do not fall. We conquer. -full cast, at various points

Title: absolute powers corrupts absolutely

Summary: The proud last Quincy bows his head to her. –Yoshino/Ishida

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Maybe it was just pop culture, but in his dreams (nightmares?) she smelled like blood. But she looked like moonlight on brown hair, in grey eyes, skin that looked too fresh and alive to be so old.

She'd called him the "last, proud Quincy," and smiled at him, thinking he couldn't understand.

I do, though—! He wanted to say. I understand feeling out of place, I understand how love can be poisoned!

"Do you still love him?" he'd asked.

His gut was in his throat, his heart was on his sleeve. For the first time, he really felt like nothing more than a boy, standing with a girl. Though this was anything but that.

She did not meet his eye. (—Why don't you meet my eye?)

"Perhaps there never was love to begin with."

And he knew that yes, she did, she still loved him very much despite everything like lies like death like the all-consuming allure of power—

Does power poison love?

—And he couldn't stop himself from thinking that night, holding her in his arms while she died, that he felt very powerless indeed, and also very much in love.

Do we trade power for love, love for power?

He thought he'd trade his Quincy powers, his intellect, his health and his body, surrender himself to the powers of flames and darkness and silence, to see her at the window again in her apartment, to hear her call him the "last, proud Quincy" like it was a title that meant something in a solitary world like his.

But he could not. He wept instead, just as she must have for many nights and years and decades, watching Kariya lose himself to power, and herself lose her heart to love.

Love is being powerless.

Power is being loveless.

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fin.

A/N: luv u, review plz thnx yall rawk