chamoize

[chamoize]

jaegerbombed​:

gancheann​:

“I-it is not a matter of strength..! I do what must be done and what must be done simply is! It is not something one can fiiiiIIII-” But the word turned into a high pitch sound as her head was tossed tumbling through the air, dizziness overtaking her instantly. 

It didn’t feel like much of a mercy considering the circumstances, but at least she landed back in his hands and not on the ground. Or at least, she assumed so.

“Hhuuuu…” Regular people got dizzy just from spinning around, whereas she had to deal with just her head spinning rapidly on its own. 

“I… Well…” She tried pouting but her head was still swimming. “… And what do you mean real?! I am death incarnate..! I am no… Knockoff…”

            He takes some short-lived amusement in watching the creature’s disoriented expression. She’s not like anything he’s seen or dealt with before, which isn’t really surprising in this city. It’s been entertaining enough so far, taking his mind off of boredom. Now that there’s someone else here he can share his amusing findings with, he really wants to show Nel what he found.

            “Sure, a knockoff shinigami. You’re coming with me.” He seems smug and careless about his claim, leaving her no room to argue or protest. Not that she has any choice in the matter, as a head who can’t do anything about the situation. Tucking the head under one arm, he kicks off of the ground and the hapless reaper will no doubt feel more disoriented as he cuts across the skies at high hypersonic speed. It’s only a few minutes before he lands in the Mistwood, touching down in front of a palace.

——

            Making his way inside, he calls out to a woman with jade hair and a ram’s skull on her head, “Hey, Nel.” She may be reading or doing something else. He seems amused, delighted like a predator that has caught something strangely fascinating. His eyes glimmer as he lifts the dullahan’s head. “Look what I found. She isn’t even dead, thinks she’s some kinda death knight. She really thinks she’s on another level than a shinigami.”

@chamoize​

     In contrast to that concerning glint in his eyes, the discovery leaves Nel less than amused. Surprised is she to start, eyes widened when she jolts so hard she’d swear she ejected her skeleton from her body. “I-it’s just a head!” Even for Hollows, there are just some things she didn’t see everyday. Talking, disembodied heads somehow make that list for her. The peculiarity of it all and the fact the head is in fact still very much conscious serves as a ward that pushes Nel just out of their reach. “And you say that like it’s so hard to believe!” She exclaims.

     She flips back and forth between the two. Her light flailing gestures and facial expressions denote a disproportionate mix of discontent, fear, and curiousity. She points to the head at first. “Where’s the rest of your body?!” And then to the Sexta. “You have to return it!”

@gancheann​

[chamoize]

jaegerbombed​:

              What it means to regress means to be vulnerable and much weaker than he is now. It wouldn’t seem that way to anyone who isn’t hollow, but it was a source of weakness and frustration for a week. He had to experience the stress of regression again, of needing to hunt while thinking that any moment could mean regressing further. Primal rage and fury fueled his actions, even though he still embraces his beastly side from time to time. It’s not a form he wants to experience again.

              The worst part of it is that, despite his situation, Nelliel still put up with him when he didn’t see her for who she was. He could have tried to kill her, wouldn’t have succeeded. But it’s the thought of what could have happened that fucks with him now, infuriating to think that he could have lost all of his memories while being forced to live as a weaker form of himself again. He doesn’t appear to be relieved or glad. Rather, the frustration and stress shows in the way he scowls and narrows his eyes. Not at her in particular, but at the situation all together. Frowning, he shoves his fists in the pockets of his pants. She’s still here. That counts for something, right? 

              “You didn’t have to deal with me when I was like that.” He mutters, frustration still holding strong in his tone. “I didn’t know who you were, didn’t trust you.” It doesn’t need to be said what could have happened, he knows that she knows well enough. If he didn’t leave, he would have tried to attack. It means a world of difference when he’s attacking someone he has developed an attachment to. She’s more than a casual relationship at this point, he knows that. He doesn’t want to attack her with the intent to kill, he enjoys being around her too much. He doesn’t need to fight with her to enjoy what they have; even when they’re just watching stupid and funny human shows, it’s nice that she’s here. 

              After a moment, he finally ambles forward to join her. The mattress dips as he sits. She says she doesn’t blame him, but he’s still irritated at the situation and how he handled interacting with her while he lost his memories. That she can just excuse it, smiling and showing her warm compassion when she could be upset, baffles him. He hates to think about what would come to be if he never remembered what they had. Would he ever change, would he have been able to rip his mask off? Reaching out for her, he runs his fingers through her silky jade hair. It’s almost like an apology, but he’s unaccustomed to saying the words.

     It’s a bad habit she has of replying with the logical answer so automatically. This time, consideration of this urges to change pace and bite her tongue for only a few seconds beyond the norm. That ‘reason’ that’s so coveted by her need also meet with emotion this time, which is more complicated for most Hollows. She cares about him, a lot, but that’s hard to convey if she doesn’t take her time in doing so.

   A brief silence sweeps through the room when it seems to Nel like he’s trying to find more words. The both of them have been encountering more feelings than they could possibly hope to express on a surface level as of late. It’s complicated, frustrating even. As much as she’s a casualty herself, she understands this well. Initial flinching at his touch (she hadn’t fully anticipated it) softens into a sweet stare that she holds for awhile as he plays in her hair. “There was a time when I didn’t trust you, either. It might have been a long time ago, but—” It’s too longwinded of an explanation. Nel catches herself getting lost in it and opts for a more concise version instead. “What I mean to say is that being there for one another when we need it is part of why we’re so close now.” A smooth hand finds his shoulder, perching there while she continues to console him. “If that makes no sense, just consider it repayment for saving me in the past.” 

   His eyes were downcast for some time, but she tries to pulls them up with hers. A unmistakable fondness and mild amusement line her expression. “Did you forget?”

[chamoize]

redwinging​:

“Something like that. But no, I’m not on anyones payroll. I do this because I want to.”

Justice for the sake of justice was what he lived by. He couldn’t let himself be swayed by rival criminal organizations or other such things- Tim has never been one to discriminate against who he does or doesn’t decide to fight. 

“Also, no. It’s pretty quiet tonight, isn’t it? I guess you’d know better than I do. I try not to spend much time out in the open here. But I can’t start interrogating you just because you’re on a walk.”

“…. But, if you’ve seen anything suspicious and wanted to tell me about it, I wouldn’t be opposed.”

     She’d seen nothing out of the ordinary— at least, from what’s expected of this sect of the island. She imagines that if this is an area he patrols often, he has some idea of what to expect. “The most suspicious thing here right now is probably you.” Less apprehensive now, she flashes a smirk behind the jab. Her curiosity in the man is piqued a little more than before, admittedly. Likeminded individuals were often good company, she found.  

     “That said, I can’t say with certainty I’ve seen absolutely nothing. My memory’s hazy...” The words trail with accentuation from a feigned expression, like she’s thinking hard about it. “There’s no point in a standoff here if we’re both just patrolling, right? I wouldn’t mind some company, it was starting to get too quiet.”

[chamoize]

jaegerbombed​:

@chamoize​

                    Several days pass before the jaguar stalks back through the forest. Unlike the pale dunes of Hueco Mundo, his bone white hide stands out against the moonlit areas of the forest. Smaller creatures see the moving shimmer of moonlight and the electric blue eye shine, and flee immediately. No one stands in his way to contest him as he moves with purpose, searching for that place with the strange arrancar. The place that is, supposedly, his own home. 

                    Large paws step down feather-light against the hard wood floor beyond the broken window. The floor is seemingly spotless with not one piece of glass to step on and cause noise. It’s not as though he should be worried, she seemed unconcerned about making enemies with him. She was even, though it still greatly confuses him, very civil with him. Apparently, closer than a companion…closer? As though realization just begins to dawn on him, he begins to see visions of her again. Following after her through the forest. No, chasing after her–taking strong delight in doing so, finding pleasure in the fact that that they’re just playfully chasing and then sparring. 

                    Then, memories begin to flood back as though a padlock had been ripped off of his own mind. He finds himself on the floor, roaring with confusion and pain as his own body begins to be ripped apart. That’s what it feels like, anyway. It gets ripped apart and put back together, just like the first time Aizen touched his forehead with the Hogyoku. Sections of bone armor slough off of him, falling to the ground and leaving behind what looks like the bones of a dead beast. 

                    There remains only that one, stubborn piece of jawbone stuck to the right side of his face. Still hunkered down on his hands and feet, he waits a moment as he reflects over what the fuck just happened. For days he’d been stuck that way, he’d pushed her away and had no idea who she was. Shit, shit. Finding a pair of fleece pants, he immediately goes to seek her out. She likely already knows he’s here. 

                    He pauses in his tracks when he sees her. “Nel…I–don’t know what the hell happened. Fuck this human city.” He wants to ask if she’s ok, if she’s upset after all of this. More importantly, if she’s still willing to stay here after this. “I remember everything.”

    It’s been several days. Several too long since she’s seen him last, as his normal self or otherwise. Several since she had enough resolve to move herself beyond the bounds of their Mistwood fortress. In truth, she battled a fear unlike anything she’d ever known before. This time, even for someone as knowledgeable and sophisticated as herself, discerning the ‘why’ seemed nigh impossible. 

     Nel cleaned the wreckage from his departure the best that she could and ignored countless impulses to track him down— a fact she’ll quickly admit is quite unlike herself. However, an encounter with a bewildered and regressed Grimmjow led her to the conclusion that the best remedy would be the space to sort everything out. ‘Difficult’ is an understatement if she’s asked how tough it was to manage during this period. Nerve-wrecking thoughts of him and stress over his general well-being haunted her daily. But in limiting her own activity and doing some soul-searching of her own, she coped. 

     Intuition reassured her nightly that this would pass. Abrupt changes of the cities she’d inhabited were nothing novel to her. Same with the usual trauma that coincided, both mental and physical. Given enough time, he’d be back to his normal self... right? Inward hopes for his safe return weigh heavy on her mind as she drifts off in his bed for what’s probably the sixth consecutive night. 

     ... ... ... ...

     Heavy clanks of metal against the flooring outside the bedroom rouse her from her nap with a start. Like bricks falling onto the tiles of their living space, the noises roll in a disjunct rhythm that makes Nel clutch the large comforter beside her with a little more fervor. In any normal case, she’d be ready to defend herself from an intruder. But she could feel his presence again with this disturbance; sufficient enough to jam any other instinct to move. Her worried gaze doesn’t budge from the threshold of the bedroom door, both eager and fearful for what might appear before her. 

     It’s him. As his normal self. Like a breached levee, an exhale ushers a stream of conflicting emotions. It renders her too stunned to move again, but relief is more prominent a feeling than anything else. After a bit, a sigh settles the tightness in her muscles some. “I’m not too sure either. I don’t blame you for it.” The amount of frustration and concern in his voice makes his words come all the more sincere. It’s something she can feel; something she wouldn’t dare add to by compiling her own stress. Instead, she offers one of the small, sweet smiles he’s used to. 

     “I’m just glad you’re back.” 

[chamoize]

jaegerbombed​:

                    He peers at the arrancar’s broken mask and the large, jagged fracture scar running along the skull. She would have been some kind of ram. If it’s possible for them to become so much stronger by fracturing their mask, then it must also be possible to sustain an injury serious enough to cause regression. Needless to say, he has no memory of this. It’s more frustrating than anything to think that he had achieved something above vasto lorde. Only for it to be ripped away from him somehow. It doesn’t fully make sense, much like this whole frustrating situation. Her answer seems to hold only a portion of the truth he needs. So she experienced regression, but not anything like this. 

                    The hollow feline stares at the mask, and then her estigma. It makes him a little wary to have such a powerful hollow this close. His ears swivel back somewhat, tail flicking irritably against the ground. But more importantly, she has given him something to ponder about. A reason for this gap in his memory and why he’s here. With no recollection of anything up to this point, and a hollow that seems strong but also seems not to be a threat, this is all he has to go on. Even he can recognize when he doesn’t have many options for figuring out what happened. 

                    Averting his gaze from her mask to the house around them, he thinks about how to achieve that power again. Especially if the hogyoku is presumably not here. It could be possible to break his mask and produce the same outcome, but that’s full of risk. He didn’t make it this far to be destroyed. “For me to regress like this must have been a large injury. But I don’t feel any different.” There’s no sign of a struggle, regardless. No blood spatter, no pain hinting at any sort of injury. He growls softly in irritation. But he wonders who even is this arrancar and why she’s the only other one here. “Did you join my pack?”

     She offers a polite denial to his deduction with a shake of her head. “There was no way for you to sustain any injuries like that. You were here with me in that form only a few moments ago...” Her eyes gloss over with a certain wetness that she blinks away as quickly as it appears. 

     “Your pack...?” She recalls the few things she’s heard of his past and his fracciones. A pack, like they were wolves. It’s intriguing to her that he actually viewed them this way, as there are a few implications to the amount of endearment behind the term. Knowing this, she would rather proudly state that she cherishes her place as a comrade of his now. However, she’d be lying to say that it was always that way. Especially when it came to their time immediately post-Aizen, where everyone’s stories, struggles, and bonds seemed to vary so drastically. “Something like that. I don’t know that you’d understand if I tried to explain it. But we’re-- close.” It’s an expression that doesn’t sit right with her on word alone, so she flings herself onto his hulking feline form, hugging gently and half-expecting him to fight it.  

    He could gather the softest murmur while she held for as long as he’d allow: “Very close.”

[chamoize]

Send 💭 + a topic and my muse will tell you what they think about it.

[chamoize]

☽ AESTHETICS: * COLORS EDITION

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 cloudless sky / ocean waves / winter dusk / deserted rest stops / dust-filled book jackets / sea salt in your lungs / open space lofts / mountainside meditation / empty ski lodges / calm before storms / electric charged air / lighthouses / road trips with no destination / desert skies / summer breeze through a cottage window / cool air against water-soaked skin / seaside towns during off-season / wind-chimes / big bed with lots of blankets / coming home after a long time away / a wolf howling in the distance / fingers dancing along spine / a hug from an old friend / afternoon tea / wild flowers off abandoned highways.

𝐑𝐄𝐃 wine soaked lips / internalized rage / blood on knuckles / four poster beds / barefoot on marble floor / velvet drapes / lipstick marks / murder mysteries / old barns with hay lofts / mouth full of weapons / love / dark chocolate / apple orchard visits / handwritten letters / fresh strawberry fields / cherry flavored chapstick / soft candlelight / vintage pumps / tingles over your body / strong but gentle hand around your throat / scarf tied over your eyes / fog on a rainy night / intimate bar settings / complete destruction / kiss swollen lips / scratches against flesh / sitting by a fireplace / blood orange sunsets.

𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 community gardens / sunflower seeds / open fields / blowing dandelion fluffs / bubbles in spring / warm champagne / drafty cottages opened after winter / soft buzzing near your ear / loose braids / flaxen sundresses / handmade straw hats / warm butter on fresh toast / daisy chains / drum circles / sun on your face / maypoles / outdoor festivals / street food / car shows / pop art drawings / fruity flavors / mist on produce / running through sprinklers / cucumber water / wrap around porches / worn pages of a book / honey in tea / yard sales / freckled skin / tarnished gold lockets / angel food cake / windmills / flashlight beams.

𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 marshy swamps / haunted graveyards / old road signs / the house people tell stories about / lights flickering / jazz music / twig snapping / campfires / ghost stories / urban exploration / vines creeping up brick / wooden flutes / quiet forests / labored breaths / hiking trails / rain on leaves / bonfires / fresh smoothies / water logged grotto / painful whispers from jealous lovers / successful business ventures / leaky cellars / park theatre productions / mint scented lotions / ambitious promises / pine needle covered floors / oil lanterns / aloe on warmed skin / crushing floral foam / forgotten towns.

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊

crinkle of leather jacket / midnight walks / bulbs burning out / black lacquered nails / the sound of bats screeching / distant marching band music / noises when you’re home alone / blood soaked knife / dark lipstick on pale skin / scent of sulfur / soot on boots / slasher movies / glint of cat eyes in the dark / oil slicks on dark asphalt / basement bedrooms / investigating a noise / grainy camera footage / black and white photos / dust filled attics / empty theatres / whistling in the middle of the night / scratches at your window / wrought iron gates / lace neck ruffles / long floor sweeping skirts / broken music boxes / needle scratching on vinyl / lost memories / disembodied voices / forgotten faces.

𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄

crisp scents / laundry on a line / fleece blankets / brightly lit hospital rooms / empty train stations / genuine laughter / feathers against skin / new life / cotton dresses / log cabins in winter / swan gliding through water / harp music floating through the air / plane rides for fun / mountain tops / ice sculptures / first snowflake of winter / linen freshly pressed / the scent of a running dryer / vanilla and cinnamon milk / a smile from a stranger / letters in the mail / a longing finally satiated / kiss of moonlight on skin / fresh canvas / snow glittering like diamonds / paint strokes / pretty lie told from a kind mouth / sparklers / coffee foam art.

tagged by: @jaegerbombed​ tagging: @mojavemassacre​ @gaiaspoken​ @silvertintedpoison​

[chamoize]

redwinging​:

“Thanks for the concern.”

He says, somewhat sarcastically. This person must be confident to be giving advice in a place full of otherwise dangerous people. However, hanging around in Crimson Lane doesn’t make somebody a criminal. So he won’t treat her like one- he’s not a fan of violence without reason.

“I’ve just been patrolling. Don’t take it too personally. And a question for you- what are you doing out here? You don’t seem like someone who takes up gambling.”

     “Patrolling?” A vague curiousity flashes across her features at the word. “Like a guard or an officer? Does the Crimson Lane keep you around for that?” The question’s less presumptious and plainly direct. If he’s just someone doing his job, there really isn’t much need to get caught up by the why of it all. Except, there was the fact that he followed her specifically. 

     She shrugs it off nonetheless. For now. “I guess you could say I’m patrolling too. But not for the same reason that you might be. Taking walks like this helps me clear my head, and I’ve found that the lane is oddly quiet at these hours.” Which make it perfect for strolls like this. And it goes without saying that someone like her needn’t worry about the danger. “But doesn’t patrolling in the way that you are make me a person of interest?”  

[chamoize]

splittwice​:

“The way you phrase it makes it sound like you’re not all human, despite looking like one. I think that’s fucking awesome.” There was always someone around here that seem to intrigue Twice to learn more about them, and the way she spoke was something that would peak his interest. Though the same could be said with her and the skull face convention that is still going on. Unless she is something else different then the other two skull boys he met, he’d like to get to know her.

“It’s my uniform. Hand pick just for me. You can say it’s a trademark for heroes and villains alike.”

      “Well you’d be right, I’m not.” His interest actually manages to catch her by surprise, making her light up. “You really think so?! Other people are usually afraid so I think that’s a first!” Her eyes close some in a wholehearted smile. It’s not often that she encounters someone that’s so easy to start talking to like this, so it’s a nice change of pace from her norm. Though she’s uncertain of his own background, she’d hazard a guess that he isn’t a Hollow. “Does that make you some kind of vigilante then? Like from the stories? I didn’t think humans really did that sort of thing.”

[chamoize]

jaegerbombed​:

                    This is new for him. No one, especially not a hollow this powerful, had simply chosen not to engage in a fight to the death. Whatever death means for creatures that are already technically dead, anyway. They all become part of a stronger monster. He didn’t make it this far to face that kind of fate today, but it seems she doesn’t want to fight. Rather, it’s as though she’s the odd one out of thousands of hollows he had fought. Sensing her distress as she closes the distance, he has to fight off his own tension not to act defensive or aggressive in response. She isn’t … trying to be a threat. She isn’t trying to be a threat, regardless of how powerful she is. 

                    They live here and she claims that they are both arrancar. Enhanced through the power of the Hogyoku. That sounds faintly familiar, he recalls hearing of such a thing from Shawlong. Long after he already took a bite out of his former packmate, the lanky hollow came back to him. That’s right, he came back to him with the body of a man and a fractured mask, explaining that a Shinigami had the power to do it with the Hogyoku. That’s about all he recalls; after that point, there’s a gap in his memory. 

                    Hostility begins to diminish as she explains more. It sounds like he actually agreed to seize that power, but he can’t remember. She seems to know, and he doesn’t really have anything to help him recall what’s missing. 

                    “Don’t know how I ended up here. I was in Hueco Mundo, speaking to one of my pack members. He mentioned a Shinigami and the Hogyoku.” His tail gradually wilts, floating to the side with uncertainty as he averts his gaze to try and recall what happened up until now. But there’s only a time loop of his vague beginnings as a hollow. Vague experiences of devouring enough souls to finally become Adjuchas, and striving to become stronger so he may never face regression again. 

                    The pleading look in her eyes only brings forth more bewilderment. Why does she seem to care so much? Could it be that they became allies? It’s not so ridiculous a notion, he was allied with a group of other hollows. That was because they joined him, but he doesn’t recall having either of them show their devotion in this way. 

                    “Can Arrancar regress?” 

     That’s wrong. They were in the same room only moments ago. If it’s as he says, then the Grimmjow before her would be a different one altogether. With the way these worlds normally operate, it isn’t unheard of for a person to disappear and return with an altered set of memories. But wasn’t there usually a larger lapse in time for those things? Her brows knit. It’s like she’s trying to solve a puzzle that pieces are continuously added to the further she’d progress. It isn’t worth ejecting herself from their exchange, especially since he seems less hostile. ‘This, like everything else, we can work through...’  The reassurance alone would have to do for now.

    Her pensive expression from before only seems to deepen with his question, at which point she fixes on him long and hard before reluctantly shaking her head. “I’m the only one who ever has, but I didn’t become an adjuchas like you did. I had a leak from the wound on my mask—” Nel takes a knee to offer a better view of her face, motioning to her scar. “It made me a lot smaller for some time.” Like she’s explaining it to herself too, the thought makes her bite lightly on her lip. She eyes him carefully, forcing herself to swallow in his appearance like this— fierce as ever and equally saddening. “Your situation would be the first of its kind, to my knowledge. It’s scary, actually.”

[chamoize]

jaegerbombed​:

                   The instinct to fight, to kill or be killed, continues to scream in his head. He remains aggressively tense, hostility mounting every fiber of his being. White ears swivel back as his chest expands and he snarls again, tail lashing low to the ground. She’s some kind of vasto lorde, he hasn’t ever encountered one during his travels. They are far and few across the endless desert, he’s heard of them from hollows he had killed. Some who follow Baraggan had spoken about one female in particular, but is this the one? 

                   No time to linger on those thoughts, she’s speaking to him now. She uses his name; how she knows who he is, he can’t fathom. She speaks as though she knows him. Agitated bewilderment flashes in his eyes, she doesn’t make any damn sense. He can’t explain this gap in his memory; he was in Hueco Mundo up until now. Bewilderment further irritates him. Rising pressure snaps in the air, reiatsu crackling. It’s not nearly as powerful as it was before. 

                   For a moment, he eyes her mistrustfully. The need to fight in order to survive keeps him coiled and ready to spring for the throat, ready to take her down with him if this is how it must end. But regardless of how strong she is, she doesn’t appear hostile. She appears genuinely confused, and yet also strangely concerned. 

                   “Don’t take me for a fool,” he growls. “I haven’t seen you before.” 

                    After a moment, the feline slowly moves from his defensive position. The fact that she holds her ground and yet does not make any move against him, makes him only slightly less hostile. The tension remains and his icy glare does not falter from her as he prowls around the room. No one else appears to be here but the two of them. “This isn’t Hueco Mundo.” Her mask is shattered, and she appears more human than hollow. As though she has surpassed vasto lorde, and yet appears like a shinigami. “What are you?”

    Anxiety binds Nel’s chest at his words, eyes glazing over with worry. That’s not true. Did he lose his memories in the last few moments? Hopelessness and disbelief line her thoughts while she searches herself helplessly for an answer; some reasoning, some sort of justification. The difficulty in finding anything to suffice starts to make her more frantic until his voice cuts in, reverberating through the room with his growls. “It’s... it’s not. We were pulled from Hueco Mundo awhile ago, and--” We’re friends. No, much more than that even. But how could she even begin to explain something so novel and nuanced to the regressed form of the man she’s come to know and love?   

    “We live here.” Deep breaths. Trying to keep composure in tact while her body wills itself toward him proves difficult. Paces calculated and careful, she closes their physical gap even as their emotional one expands. It’s something she’ll try her best to bare with for now. “... Arrancar. Still a Hollow, same as you. Enhanced through the power of the Hogyoku. You can’t truly have forgotten, you’re one of them too. Please...” She can only hope his pressure and hostility don’t turn into an attack. She stops just out of his reach, eyes locking desperately on his own, pleading.    

[chamoize]

make your muses’ heart!

[chamoize]

jaegerbombed​:

@chamoize​

                  It happens in an instant. He’s passing through the living room and towards the kitchen, about to ask if she wants anything. Then, he’s staggering forward and yelling in alarm. It feels like his body is being ripped apart, and it’s not such an unfamiliar feeling. There’s something familiar about this, about being reborn into something else. Something stronger, becoming something better. Except this isn’t right, this is the reverse of the hogyoku touching him, making him arrancar. This is–his mask, it’s growing back. 

                And then it isn’t familiar anymore. Fear of regression fills his mind, instinctive and intense. Long, ragged claw marks drag along the walls as a large feline shreds the clothing and gallops across the room. 

                He senses her in an instant, a strong and threatening presence. Her reiatsu is incredible, it’s overpowering. Leaping back at the woman’s presence, he crouches in defense of himself as she appears. The roar that tears from him is instinctive like everything else, and the hostility isn’t entirely something he can control. The part of himself that has always been a predator needing to fight to survive, needing to move up, howls in his head. It howls that she’s the enemy, that she’s strong. 

              Coiling up, he prepares to lunge and fight but manages to find his voice. It’s rougher, a harsher and guttural tone as he snarls, “What the hell do you want-?!”

     A cacophonous stirring in the next room over makes her jolt from her once comfortable position on the sofa. Her eyes snap to the open space of its direction right as a Hollow comes barreling into view. It’s unnerving, to say the least. Too paralyzing for her to even consider potentially having to defend herself. However, that could be in part due to a lack of change in his presence around her. She doesn’t recall him ever having left her today. And the adjuchas before her still feels too similar not to be...

     “Grimmjow... is this some sort of joke? It isn’t funny.” A human-like query would be accompanied by an irritation crinkling across her nose and brow if it weren’t for how bewildered this rendered her. She climbs to her feet with some hesitation, tense and wobbly, but standing firm regardless. “You can tell me if there’s something wrong. Are you okay?” 

[chamoize]

exseruit​:

❝ So , the Sexta ran his mouth . ❞

At least , he presumed tales of his end had landed into the paws of Grimmjow to recount . Or perhaps , it had sprung from the very man who committed the deed himself . They were close afterall , were they not ? Close enough for Nelliel to ally with him and his companions against Lord Aizen’s army . And after all that , she still harboured the gall to accost him , speaking of second chances , like she didn’t know better . His intrigue finally kindled , Ulquiorra turned to face her , gaze devoid of emotion as ever .

❝ Why ? ❞

There was only one soul across this world and the next who could accord him that do over , the only person he’d allow to even try , and she was not here . That much had already been established during a brief run in with Kurosaki Ichigo and then confirmed again by his tireless scouring of the island , no crevice unexplored , no stone unturned . This wasn’t a chance at anything but the continuous limbo of simply existing . 

❝ Why would it sadden you ? We are not comrades , we are not even allies , do you hear yourself when you speak , you sound like– ❞ A human . Did he even consider that a negative thing anymore ?

❝ There would be no purpose to it . ❞

He abruptly concurred .

   “It has nothing to do with him.” She plainly interjects. Suggestions that she got this information from Grimmjow make her brows furrow for more reasons than one. But needless to say, he’s wrong, and the issue at hand doesn’t require him to be corrected too much on that. She’ll let it go. It’s enough that he turns so she can look at him fully, realizing how long it’s actually been since the last she’s seen his face. It’s the cleanest slate of any detectable emotion, which somehow elicits even more sadness and pity. But she finds herself frowning more at his words; they seem to carry more expression than his face ever will.

    “That’s right. We hardly ever were. But for you to come as far as you have, only to stop like this…” The further the explanation goes, the more she feels that it’s falling on deafer ears. “It’s a waste of existence, now more than ever. … That’s why I care.” Her nails bite into one of her palms and she huffs. The pleading expression on her face hardens over into a glare.

    “You say there’s no purpose without a second thought. Have you ever considered why you think that?”

[chamoize]

jaegerbombed​:

Keep reading.

    This is real— an unmistakable point of no return that they’ve crossed and obscured the path to. His nose near the crook of her neck as it pulls in her scent keeps faint consciousness present. An excited, bestial pressure above her is one that she comes to enjoy and wants to be smothered in. His compliment prompts her to move her lips to speak, but before words can form, the sweetness at her middle picks up with his thrusts once more.

     A gasp catches in her throat. Eagerly, uncontrollably, slender fingers bunch his bedding into her palms while she arches into the numbness. The sounds that escape her, like a songbird’s, flow smoothly into their shared space. Exchanged breaths, locked extremities, and a lovely ache are all pleasures they proceed to indulge in. It’s too much for her to bare. The quickening of his movements add to this, rougher stimulation starting to make subduing a climax painfully difficult. Each time he plunges back in for their hips to collide is intensely exhilarating. She wouldn’t have guessed she’d find herself comfortable enough to let him have her like this, but she’s glad she did. What those large hands do while he groans and bores into her make for a state of ecstasy she couldn’t have reached otherwise. She’s certain of it.

     “Grimmjow!” She cries again. The same certainty in her euphoria doesn’t quite apply to how it’s vocalized. She’ll keep whimpering beneath him, tantalized by the tingling like its novelty’ll never wear. Through light trembles, lost in a mindless euphoria, she still musters the will to bring her hands to his shoulders. Closer. She only knows that she wants to feel him at his most carnal on top of her. His skin against hers, that is. The fingers that were resting on his shoulders weaponize. Her nails —those talons— dig into his back and drag slowly… harshly. Reddened flesh swells on either side of his back in wake of the needy clawing. In doing this, she calls for him to move in and pound her harder, refusing to stop attacking him until she gets it.

[chamoize]

mojavemassacre​:

“Nah. I don’t know any of these people. Though… yeah, I guess you could call them my friends, seeing as I’m having a ball of a time with ‘em.” Despite the abrupt way that the conversation begins, Six’s tone is casual, as if the two of them had been standing there for hours, and he had been waiting for her to respond. “Guess it really depends on what you consider a friend.”

As he spouts off that bit of meaningless drivel, he gives a sidelong glance at the stranger. She’s clearly an outsider like himself, though judging by her… unique appearance she probably wasn’t from a world anything like his. That would make this conversation either very annoying… or very interesting. His thoughts are interrupted as the crowd roars, and he whips his head around to see that one of the men is really laying into the other, driving his fists into him again and again and again. “Oh, Jesus, that guy’s got an arm on him.” Six winces in faux sympathy, the amused light in his eyes giving away his real feelings—there’s an amused light there, almost smug, like a cat staring down a cornered rat.

“Well, they’re certainly not fighting for glory, that’s for sure.” He looks down at his hands as one fighter crumples to the ground. As if on cue, his phone lights up with a new notification—he’s received a new transaction on his wallet app. Six locks eyes with the bookie, who gives the Courier a nod and a shout, though his words are lost over the sound of the crowd as the loser is dragged away by his friends to prepare for the next bout. “And I, for one, am not exactly interested… not in the fight, anyways. I’m here because it’s a nice way to get some Dust while getting an eye for the local color, the kind of people who make a habit of back alley brawls like this. Sure, I can get my yucks by watching some plucky kid get his nose cleaned for him, and maybe even get paid for the pleasure, but that’s another thing entirely…” He pauses. “But I gotta ask you, sweetheart… it sounds like it bothers you. Why is that?”

   Unabated and stern is her stare zeroing in on the crowd, hardly even blinking while the show grows more savage by the second. The dichotomy of being a seasoned warrior and harboring a distaste for violence is one that she rarely acknowledges. Albeit explicable for her, it’s also something she encounters trouble wrapping her head around. Humans are strange, but even that fact is comprehensible enough. Nonetheless, she knows she currently doesn’t care for the scene whose roars piqued a now absent curiosity. Attestment to this rolls off of her tongue when it clicks at his confirmation. ‘Not for glory’. It’s a wonder she ended up in a place like this to begin with. 

    Uncomfortably, she shifts her weight from one leg to the other. The soft glow from his phone like a subtle beacon draws her attention. Noting how deeply some covet their privacy, however, she doesn’t linger long. Or at least she makes attempts not to⁠— her observational skills can be difficult to suppress. Stolen glances that trace his line of sight lead her to wonder if his involvement here’s more than he initially let on. Soft lips part in slight to inquire about it only to find him reading her mind. 

     A gentle sigh expels some of the stress and the crowd seems to peak and settle alongside her. “Dust?” The quizzical look she gives him goes from half-attentive to full as she opens her posture. “You wouldn’t be getting paid for this—” It’s no business of hers. Refraining from asking questions she’s not sure she wants the answer to, she bites her tongue to snatch the words out of the air. It comes too late. 

     When prompted to verbalize her apparent discontent, her lips thin and she scans the ground for an answer. It takes a second, but her eyes meet his when she finds it. “Displays like this are unbecoming of anyone who would take pride in their strength. The Living are above these exhibitions… or so I thought.” Her mind is not so narrow that her opinions are fixed. Consideration for those humans that might not deserve her respect just happened to slip her mind before now.

     “I guess I thought more highly of some of them. That they wouldn’t fight amongst each other so senselessly. Silly in hindsight, isn’t it?”  

     Like it’s mocking her, the excitement of their surroundings starts to whirl again. The crowd stirs anxiously while their murmurs move to a hush; it seems another fight’s coming soon. “I’m worried that it doesn’t bother you.” It would be remiss of her to have gone without noting the way he’d eyed the spectacle previously. It’s concerning. 

[chamoize]

Nelliel + Harribel sketches from JET!