samagwi

[samagwi]

"It did, huh? Lucky you~ "

He doesn't ask for clarification. At their tone, he can't bring himself to care for the details. He watches them sway uncertainly towards a wall, scoffs, and continues stalking a distance behind them.

"Well you gotta be just fine if you have enough energy to keep bein' an ungrateful little shit. If you really want something to bitch about, I can show you what real mocking from me is like."

In his mind's eye, he pushes them over, shoves his fingers into their wounds and cackles at their tears, asking where their tough facade went.

"You're lucky I'm so fucking nice to you."

It's hard to know where they were before this. If they had gone out intentionally again, without supervision, knowing it was again Ulquiorra's wishes——or if they had simply wandered and become lost. Found themselves at the gaping, broken wall of an abandoned section of Las Noches in a palace no one used and became a sitting duck.

The patters of red along the floor follow behind them in serpentine patterns, weeping from the long-drawn scratches that carve up their torso and arm from hip to shoulder. The fabric of their sleeves droops down around their elbow as they hunch into the shadow of the wall and against the stone. Copper bleeds and spreads from the long wounds to color their fake white uniform, gorey in its sight as Lyric's chest rises and falls frantically.

——but at a closer glance, the wounds are not lethal. Just messy. It seems they escaped whatever was foolish enough to make a grab at them in a hurry.

Their breathing doesn't calm when they spot him at a distance. They don't greet him either, unsurprisingly; just grow more rigid and clench their teeth. The growling they make sounds more like a wounded thing than a frightened thing, and their pause is long and still before they slink again. The heel of their boot drags through accumulated blood and streaks it over the floor as they take the hall down the left away from him.

The scent of blood-- oh, Nnoitra knows it so well, heels turning on the black marble floors as soon as the smell reaches his nose. His excitement grows, once he can sense wounded prey getting closer, closer still, long legs closing the distance until he rounds a corner, and at the end of the hall, he sees--

"...Tch-! You?"

His lips curl in a sour mix of disappointment and disgust. It's just Lyric? What a shame. It's almost too disappointing to find out it was them, that for a moment, the sorry state of Lyric is almost entirely forgotten.

They still, seeing his tall form at the other end of the hall, and they growl at him.

"Oh, that's real cute."

A mean grin spreads across his features, the hunger of a predator still lingering on his lips as his tongue swipes over his teeth. His heels click casually through their trail of blood as he makes to follow them, slow enough to let them limp along pathetically.

"Aw, what's the matter, you little punk? Ain'tcha happy someone stronger's around so those small fry won't try t' pick you off? What got ya? Was it bigger than you? Or are ya too embarrassed to say~?"

[samagwi]

It's hard to know where they were before this. If they had gone out intentionally again, without supervision, knowing it was again Ulquiorra's wishes——or if they had simply wandered and become lost. Found themselves at the gaping, broken wall of an abandoned section of Las Noches in a palace no one used and became a sitting duck.

The patters of red along the floor follow behind them in serpentine patterns, weeping from the long-drawn scratches that carve up their torso and arm from hip to shoulder. The fabric of their sleeves droops down around their elbow as they hunch into the shadow of the wall and against the stone. Copper bleeds and spreads from the long wounds to color their fake white uniform, gorey in its sight as Lyric's chest rises and falls frantically.

——but at a closer glance, the wounds are not lethal. Just messy. It seems they escaped whatever was foolish enough to make a grab at them in a hurry.

Their breathing doesn't calm when they spot him at a distance. They don't greet him either, unsurprisingly; just grow more rigid and clench their teeth. The growling they make sounds more like a wounded thing than a frightened thing, and their pause is long and still before they slink again. The heel of their boot drags through accumulated blood and streaks it over the floor as they take the hall down the left away from him.

The scent of blood-- oh, Nnoitra knows it so well, heels turning on the black marble floors as soon as the smell reaches his nose. His excitement grows, once he can sense wounded prey getting closer, closer still, long legs closing the distance until he rounds a corner, and at the end of the hall, he sees--

"...Tch-! You?"

His lips curl in a sour mix of disappointment and disgust. It's just Lyric? What a shame. It's almost too disappointing to find out it was them, that for a moment, the sorry state of Lyric is almost entirely forgotten.

They still, seeing his tall form at the other end of the hall, and they growl at him.

"Oh, that's real cute."

A mean grin spreads across his features, the hunger of a predator still lingering on his lips as his tongue swipes over his teeth. His heels click casually through their trail of blood as he makes to follow them, slow enough to let them limp along pathetically.

"Aw, what's the matter, you little punk? Ain'tcha happy someone stronger's around so those small fry won't try t' pick you off? What got ya? Was it bigger than you? Or are ya too embarrassed to say~?"

[samagwi]

Nnoitra almost gives pause when the other does duck and weave away from his hand. He doesn't expect it. Practically everyone expects violence from him, and he in turn expects at the very least self preservation, at most he expects horror and fear.

Nnoitra isn't what one would describe as gentle. Large hand moves towards Grimmjow's head, and his long fingers dip into blue hair, fingertips immediately stroking through the soft locks and practically kneading at his scalp. His sparse brows raise slightly as he pets the shorter Arrancar's head, letting out a low, quiet sound that's almost incredulous.

"It is that weird,"

He scoffs, highly amused.

"I thought it'd be crunchy. All gel, mousse, and hair spray. Color me impressed."

Grimmjow would blink a few times but make no move to evade. There was no reason for him to do so, all Nnoitra was trying to do was touch his hair. Which, yes, was as soft as it looked. He was a feline himself so being pet was... strange yet oddly acceptable.

"Yeah, just feel it for yerself," He'd even go as far as to angle his head in a way that would make the taller Arrancar able to see more of the wildly styled spiky mess he called his hair. The only issue might be that he seemed to look good with his wild sky blue locks.

He couldn't fault Nnoitra for being curious. Every one of them seemed to have a different sort of hairstyle and while most of them used various products, the Sexta didn't. "It ain't that weird, is it?"

@samagwi x

[samagwi]

"H'oh? So grumpy all of a sudden. As if I'd waste my time fuckin' with your hair. Ya think you'd live t' tell the tale if you even tried to shave my head?"

He chuckles, motioning to rub his thumb and fingers together.

"At least my hair's as soft as it looks. I bet your end's would fall to bits if the wind blew jus' right."

Did Renji's hair look brittle? No, even with one eye Nnoitra could tell he took some pride in his hair, even if the other used general products to take care of it or not.

He just wanted to irk the Shinigami a little more.

@samagwi from here

At Nnoitra's snarky response, Renji just rolled his eyes, lips upturned in disdain. Right. Of course. What else was he expecting from Nnoitra, of all people?

"Black might be a new look. Who knows, might look great on me." Renji snorts.

"But wouldn't it be too bad if ya suddenly became bald one day? What with yer nice long black silky locks. Such a shame."

A threat for a threat.

[samagwi]

dumb and dumber

[samagwi]

Did some drafts! I have so many more Nnoitra icons to make, and I'm slowly coloring panels from Honeycanon's doujin for even more icons here and on @cinghialefedele

I also have a new icon border for @elquellora, whose blog I wanna revive bc his muse has been feeling some type of way for months that makes it difficult to write...

[samagwi]

Continued with @ichxgo from here!

His face splits in a wide grin. He's used to hunching over others, leaning down and casting a shadow over Ichigo. It was nostalgic, almost, looking at the other. Someone more sentimental would likely feel something more than whatever Nnoitra is feeling, now.

"Oh, did I poke yer soft spot? It's okay, you're not done growin', yet, are ya, Carrot Top? Or is this it?"

He gestures unceremoniously to...all of him.

[samagwi]

Nnoitra wasn't expecting much of an answer. He didn't expect Grimmjow to have taken interest in his hair either, but he did, anyway, so why not attempt to satiate his own curiosity in kind?

He was waiting to hear about a list of holding products or a special technique, but when he hears it's just a hair care routine, it intrigues him even more. A parse brow raises when Grimmjow tousles his own hair, only for it to stay in that wild pompadour.

"...What the hell? Seriously? It's soft?? Lemme see--"

Like a curious child, he's stepping in closer, reaching out to pet Grimmjow's head.

He's been thinking about how Grimmjow had commented on his hair, a while back... He stares at Grimmjow's blue head of hair, and tilts his head at an inhuman angle, curious.

"How the hell do you even get it to stay like that when ya hunt and fight?" - @samagwi

He felt like he was being watched. Imagine Grimmjow's surprise when he looked up and spotted Nnoitra eyeing him. Or more specifically his hair. He shouldn't have been too surprised. After all, he'd questioned the other on his hair before. Or more, commented on it.

He'd grin before lifting a hand and carelessly sliding his lithe digits through his wild hair. No matter how mussed or messy he made it the sky blue strands fell back into place effortlessly. "Same away anyone else does I'd think," He'd flick one of his long bangs from his eyes only for it to settle back down where it'd been resting mere moments before.

"Or, I guess not the same way others do it. I don't use Reiatsu to hold it in place." His hair was not only as fluffy as it looked but it was soft, too. He took really good care of his hair, too. And before anyone asked, no he didn't bathe like a housecat. He took actual showers or baths.

| I pushed a button.

[samagwi]

"Guess it doesn't matter, since you're outside all the time."

In Hueco Mundo, there were many of greater size; in the open desert, Hollows could be any size at all. Nnoitra had always been smaller by comparison, though, which tickled him to know he was one of the tallest of the Arrancar. His size had never mattered, he cut down many foes and prey larger than himself or the dragon before him.

"On the contrary, I think bein' this small is perfect, if there's lots of things as big and bigger than you."

ㅤunprompted | always accepting | @samagwi said ... "Bein' that tall must suck."

THOUGHT, was never given to it, never spared, 'pon such a trivial matter. For, this height, this size, this length ; it was all temporary. Were he truly, Sulkiinrah's descendent true, he would continue to grow as the years passed. Slow, but sure.

However, there were some ... DRAWBACKS. At even around nine - feet, as low as he could bring himself, it was certainly a difficult affliction. He was forced to duck through arches of caves, SQUEEZE himself into the smallest of spaces.

❝ I've no control, over the form I take. I have no magiks, to make myself smaller, nor do I crave them. I can only imagine, being so small in Abbalon, to be an issue. ❞

For, though Nnoitra was of his own great height ? Down here ? Oh, he was fodder for everything and everyone else.

[samagwi]

Eurgh. This guy was getting sentimental about it, Nnoitra can tell by the way he seems to smile to himself and stays much too quiet.

"No, I was jus' wonderin' cuz red can be tough to work with. Just for that cheesy ass grin, I hope someone comes 'round and dyes it black while ya sleep."

"Ever dye yer hair?" - @samagwi

Unprompted ||| Always Accepting @samagwi

He's contemplated it before. After all, what kinda shinigami had natural red hair? Not many, for sure. Might be the only one, in fact. Renji hated it as a kid. Made him stand out. Made him the target of bullying. When he was trying to be stealthy and steal from those street vendors, it never worked in his favor. Too flashy, too bright.

But now that he was much older, he realized that standing out, perhaps might not be such a bad thing. It wasn't that he suddenly loved his hair. There were still days where he loathed it, and would much prefer he have dark hair like almost every other shinigami.

But he'd come to embrace it. Accept it. Live with it. And one day, even come to love it.

"Naw, what, ya think my hair color's ugly?" Renji smirks at Nnoitra. "Too bad."

[samagwi]

Like this for a mantis in your inbox! ✨️

[samagwi]

nnoitra show tiddies when

[samagwi]

Imagine if the rules of becoming the new Kenpachi applied for any kind of soul including arrancars, and that Zaraki lost to Nnoitra making him the new Kenpachi :3c (highly unlikely but I think it's a funny thought lol)

I also think it'd be hilarious if the Gotei 13 forced Nnoitra to take his place as the Eleventh Division captain instead of killing him, therefore making him the first hollow soul reaper 🌙✨

[samagwi]

Bleach High School Warfare

[samagwi]

step through the flames every once in a while

[samagwi]

Was challenged to do an outfit swap of my two favs

[samagwi]

I've grown since I've seen you last. You wouldn't even recognize me and I'm proud of that. I bet you're still the same though.