Just a word to all of the women at FLOL

JUMPING ON SOMEONE AND POKING THEM WITH A STICK IS NOT CPR!!!

I own nothing.

Carry on

--- Lust ---

She could see the fight in his eyes, and she could see who was winning. She leaned her back against the doorframe, gray eyes dulling watching him. The internal battle was over, when he lifted his head, and she saw his eyes. (Don't be scared, don't be scared)

Her fingers caught the sliding door, and with a flick, she slammed it shut. Murmuring under her breath, she recited the incant for a barrier kido she had learned form Rangiku.

Now the only way he was getting out was if he killed her.

"You're not getting out." She told him, her hands coming to rest at her sides. She watched him rise, watched his eyes roam the room, before settling their terrible gaze on her. Oh, she had to try and stop him. The people he'd kill, the things he'd destroy. She couldn't let him (He'd die, and she wanted him too much for that to happen). "You're stuck in here."

In a flash he had pulled her from the door, and slammed her against a wall, eliciting a cry from her lips. Pressing his body against her (ignore the desire, think of the pain, ignore the want), his hands grasped her arms, tightly, leaving bruises.

His breath played along her ear, and she bit her lip to keep from moaning (pain, only pain, only pain). "That's fine with me, Queenie," He whispered. She whimpered, and gasped as his teeth bit into her ear, hard. She could feel the blood dripping onto her shoulder. (No pain, only pleasure, why no pain?, that should hurt.)

It was no wonder why Lust was a Deadly Sin.

--- Envy ---

He could see what was going on through Ichigo's eyes. He knew what was happening. He just couldn't stop it. Damn Ichigo's determination was too strong.

If the bastard hadn't convinced himself he was in love with that noble bitch, if he had just realized the goddess before him, they wouldn't be having this problem. No, this wouldn't be happening.

He wouldn't be stuck in a damn mind of a ******* idiot, standing behind a damned groom, who was putting a ring on the finger of his goddess. He would be standing in the mind of a some-what useful being, who would be the one putting the ring on the his goddess.

Or he could've taken over Ichigo's body, thrown the goddess over his shoulder, and took off to Hueco Mundo, where they could've killed Aizen and ruled together as King and Queen. Who needs Heaven, when you have Hell with a goddess?

But no, he was stuck here, burning with a emotion that drove him crazy.

"You're turning green." Zangetsu muttered, and Hichigo fought not to choke the dame zanpakuto.

Envy was just as bad as lust, right on the list of Seven.

--- Pride ---

He had once told her, before they ever started this thing she was hesitant to call a relationship, that he would ruin her for other men.

She thought it was foolish pride.

He had once told her, before they even began, that he would make sure she'd never want another person, not even Ichigo.

She thought he was bragging.

He had once told her, that when (never if, always when) he took control, she would come with him to Hueco Mundo, not because he had dragged her, but because she would beg.

She never thought it would happen.

She was right.

He had control, he was leaving, but she wasn't begging. He wanted her on his knees, and she told him to go f*** himself.

Not because they were standing in a field covered in the blood of so many people, people she had loved, Ishida-kun, Sado-kun, Toshiro-kun, Rangiku-kun, Renji-kun. (She was standing next to Kuchiki-san's dead body, but felt more want to kick it, than to cry over it.) She told him off, not because she was mourning the people around her, the people he had killed.

She simply told him off because he wasn't the only person with pride.

--- Sloth ---

She leaped from her bed, spinning in a twirl of nightgown and suddenly formed blade, her eyes darting to the tapping on the open window. Her eyes flickered to the clock on the dresser. It was the middle of the night, 3:00, and she had been sound asleep enjoying a pleasant dream that included white hair and a lot of touching.

She had woken up abruptly, no doubt hearing something, but when the noise didn't continue, she had tried to go back to sleep. Then the noise had sounded again, and here she was, standing in her flowing white nightie and blade in her hand, glaring at the window, until she realized what window it was.

It was that window.

It was the window that he always entered in, the one she kept open slightly just for him. But after Ichigo had decided to go to the States to learn how to become a doctor, she had begun to close the window. And she hadn't heard anything about Ichigo coming back, so it couldn't be him.

Could it?

She stormed over to the window, threw it open, and glared out. Whoever it was, she was going to give them a taste of Tsubaki for waking her from her dream. It had been wonderful, almost as if he had been here. Oh, that was a nice thought.

Her eyes scanned the area, and she didn't see anything. She stood still, straining her ears, but there was no noise, no rustle of clothing or leaves. Tired, annoyed, and wishing she could just slip back into her dream, she slammed the window closed, and sent her sword back to being hair-pins. She placed them on the dressed next to the clock, and that's when the arms grabbed her.

One hand covered her mouth, keeping her from screaming, and the other wrapped around her, pinning her arms against her body, pulling her against a rock hard chest. She made a loud muffled screeching noise of rage and fear, and tried to wriggle free. She froze though, and whimpered when she heard a voice whisper in her ear.

"You've gotten lazy, Queenie."

--- Gluttony ---

Orihime knew it was wrong, knew that she should tell someone what was going on. Tell Ichigo, Shinji, Urahara, Isshin, maybe even Tatsuki, tell someone what was happening.

But it felt so good, and she only wanted more.

No she kept her mouth shut, kept her window open, kept wishing for him to return, to kiss, to touch, to bruise, to take her and make her his.

It felt so good, and she always wanted more.

But now she stands over looking bodies, so many bodies, and she wonders if she could've stopped this. If she had spoken up before, told someone, anyone, what was going on, maybe this wouldn't have happened.

But it had felt so good, and she still wants more.

She felt disgusted with herself. Felt angry, sadness, self-loathing, pride, a myriad of emotions that always turned to center on one thing.

When was he going to be done, so she could have more?

She heard his footsteps behind her, felt want and need rush through her body, and she turned, smiling. He was coated in blood, her former friend's blood, and he was smiling as well. His gold and black eyes watched her.

Little did the world know, but Inoue Orihime had always been a glutton for punishment

--- Greed ---

She stood in the doorway to the bathroom, dressed only in a sleeping kimono. Her eyes were half-lidded and he could see the bruises appearing on the dip between her breasts where he had bit her.

"What do you want from me?" She asked suddenly, watching him stretch on her bed. He smirked.

"Why, Queenie, I want more." he said sardonically. She smiled and he beckoned for her with a finger. "Come here," he ordered.

She tilted her head, a confused look appearing on her face. "Don't you know what I want?" She asked, confused.

"I don't give a shit." he replied. "Now come here."

A hard look entered her eyes but the edges of her mouth tipped upwards in a smirk. She slowly crossed the room, her fingers playing the tie of her kimono. He watched her hungrily.

"You should ask what I want," She said, with a shrug and in the motion, the collar of the kimono slipped down her arm. She stopped, closer to the bed but out of his reach. He glared.

"Fine. What do you want?" He asked in a tone that said he didn't care.

Her smirk widened into a grin. "Why, I want everything," He blinked.

"Because you see, " she said as she dropped the kimono, revealing her body beneath, "I'm just as greedy as you, Horsey."

--- Wrath ---

It had started as a dinner. Orihime had invited them both over for a completely normal dinner of takeout pizza from the new American place down the road. It had snowballed when Ichigo went to the convenient store to get drinks and while he was gone, Rukia had found a pair of his underwear. Orihime had not been expecting that, trying to remember when Shirosaki had left with out them.

Rukia had flew into a rage, using the Shinigami Badge that Ichigo had left behind and exiting from her gigai, Sode no Shirayuki in hand. Orihime had grabbed a kitchen knife from the drawer and brandished it at the other girl.

"I can explain." She started but Rukia over ran her.

"You vile, stupid, useless, weak bitch!" Rukia snarled. Orihime blinked.

"Kuchiki-san, language!" She admonished. Rukia gave a slightly crazed laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, So how much did he pay you to spread your legs?" The adopted noble asked and Orihime's throat constricted. Her gaze took on a red haze and her jaw clenched. Out of all the things Orihime had ever been called in her life, she hated being called a whore. Just because she had been blessed (cursed) with large breasts did not mean she used them to make money.

Orihime wanted to shake her head to clear the rage but she knew if she did, Rukia would attack. She needed to get a grip if she wanted to stop this without hurting Rukia. She silently cursed herself for not wearing her hair-pins. She hadn't put them back on when she'd gotten out of the shower earlier because Ichigo and Rukia had been at the door. They were in the bathroom and she was in the kitchen and there as no way to get to them without going through Rukia first.

As she was trying to think of a way to get out of this mess, Rukia attacked.

She move to stab Orihime through the heart with her sword and only quick reflexes and recent training kept Orihime alive. She held up her kitchen knife to block the sword, sparks flying off as the steel connected. Orihime winced from the screech.

Rukia drew back her sword and swung in a downward arc. Orihime danced out of the way, wishing her kitchen was larger. Rukia moved to slash at Orihime again. "Damn slut." She snarled and Orihime's jaw clenched tighter.

Rage pushing her on, Orihime used one hand to slap away the blade, barely getting nicked by the edge. She spun past Rukia's guard and swung the knife down.

Blood spurted from Rukia's chest and her eyes widened in shock. Orihime twisted her wrist and sliced again, this time through the wirst that held Sode no Shurayuki. The sword fell to the ground

Rukia cried out in pain and surprise but recovered quickly and caught Orihime's hand holding the knife. She yanked and twisted, causing Orihime to open her hand causing the knife to skitter across the floor.

Orihime turned and slammed her elbow into Rukia's nose. Rukia fell back, a harsh sound of pain escaping from her lips as her nose broke with a 'crunch'. Her hand was still wrapped around Orihime's wrist, dragging the other girl with her.

They landed in a heap on the floor with Orihime on top. The larger girl moved so that she was straddling Rukia's waist and wrapped her hands around Rukia's throat. Rukia's eyes widened, tears and blood streaming down her face. Her lips moved in a plea for Orihime to stop but Orihime was too angry.

It wasn't until Rukia stopped moving, until the pulse beneath Orihime's grip slowed to stop that Orihime realized what she had done.

She crawled backwards, looking down at her hands coated in blood. Her eyes flickered up to the body, then back to her hands.

Kuchiki Rukia was dead and Orihime had killed her.

"Hey, Rukia, Inoue I'm ba-" Ichigo's voice came from the front door and he stopped when he saw Rukia. Orihime glanced at her hands, then back to Rukia and then to Ichigo. She flinched as she saw his wide eyes and shocked expression. Her eyes trailed back to her hands.

Footsteps sounded as Ichigo walked towards her and Orihime wondered if he was going to hurt her. She didn't look up, keeping her gaze on the red staining her fingers.

A hand softly cupped her cheek, almost tenderly and brought her face to look into his. A cold smirk played across his lips and gold eyes laughed at her.

"Not bad, Queenie. Didn't know you had it in you." he murmured.

Her hand shot out and hit him on the shoulder. He rocked back and blinked at, obviously fighting between confusion and amusement.

"Shut up." she muttered. "This is all your fault. If you had just put on the underwear, none of this would've happened."

"Ah but Queenie, I needed this to happen." He explained and his lips pressed against hers hard, causing her guilt to turn to desire. He pulled back and smirked as she whimpered in protest. "Now I'm King and have a proper Queen."

As he laid her down on the kitchen floor, his hands deftly undoing the buttons on her shirt, Orihime couldn't help looking at the blood coating her hands and feeling a little pleased with herself. She had gotten what she had wanted, all because of her wrath.

It was good to be Queen.