#zombiigrl

[biskael]

" AND WHY is your stomach upset , gigichen ? " he asks , and a steaming hot cup of herbal tea is set before the girl's tired eyes . he handles the saucer gently ------ sometimes , the jailer is not so heavyhanded , thankfully . " i doubt you ate something spoiled . "

@zombiigrl

[resentfulcherubim]

@zombiigrl replied:

SHOW ME THE MEAT!

WALKING FASTER.

[gyakusama]

❝ This is gonna make or break you, Blondie. Which Gorillaz Album is best. And if you don't like them, it's waa~aay better to just crawl under a rock and die <3 ❞

❝ How stupid d'ya think I am, Antenna-Head? Everybody knows it's Demon Days. ❞

[bazz-b]

“MY PEOPLE ARE INSIDE, THAT’S WHERE PEOPLE LIVE!!!!!!”

[cinghialefedele]

ღ - Just do it for all my muses, I'm too lazy to hop accounts, IF YOU WILL ...

Inbox me ‘ღ’ and I’ll rate the following:

I'll do the ones Tesla interacts with most~!

Romantic attraction: NONE | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extreme

Sexual attraction: none | very low | low | MEDIUM | high | very high | extreme

Aesthetic attraction: none | very low | low | MEDIUM | high | very high | extreme

Sensual attraction: none | very low | LOW | medium | high | very high | extreme

Romantic attraction: none | VERY LOW | low | medium | high | very high | extreme

Sexual attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | EXTREME

Aesthetic attraction: none | very low | low | medium | HIGH | very high | extreme

Sensual attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | VERY HIGH | extreme

Romantic attraction: none | very low | low | MEDIUM | high | very high | extreme

Sexual attraction: none | very low | low | medium | HIGH | very high | extreme

Aesthetic attraction: none | very low | low | MEDIUM | high | very high | extreme

Sensual attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | VERY HIGH | extreme

Romantic attraction: NONE | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extreme

Sexual attraction: none | very low | low | MEDIUM | high | very high | extreme

Aesthetic attraction: none | very low | low | medium | HIGH | very high | extreme

Sensual attraction: none | very low | low | medium | HIGH | very high | extreme

[elquellora]

❝ And you don't know why, but you're dying to try, you wanna kiss the girl~! ❞

"...Why are you singing at me?"

[keikakudori]

❝ ... I don't want to FIGHT, Herr Aizen. Can't we be friends? ❞

                 ❝ Friends? ❞

                 The word comes out in a smearing of noise between snarl and growl, heated, vicious. A man's throat could be cut with the edge that singular word carries with it, sharp and aimed right at her. It was a seething word, vicious, more bestial than not. The depth of copper-hued brown burned with a flaring of temper that he made no effort to hide from her; how easy it was for him to DESPISE THIS QUINCY. He despised Urahara Kisuke for his hypocrisy, for his acceptance amongst the Seireitei; that man's hands were not so clean as that. A member of the Onmitsukido. He had had such potential, in Aizen's view. How could he ever meekly accept the way things were without even putting down a token effort?

                 Hatred did not come to Aizen easily, yet this little girl had managed what someone might name the impossible; she had become a source of furious antipathy. She was the source of so much anger that Aizen felt as if magma swirled and eddied in his stomach, beneath his flesh, a fury that would turn his bones to ash. How he glared at her now, lips pulling back from his teeth.

                 ❝ You tell me that you don't want to fight. You're here, asking me if we can be friends. You ask me a question which you already know the answer to. So how can you dare ask me if we can be friends after what you have done? After what you've done to him? ❞

                 No, there was nothing akin to friendship between them. There never would be. Not with what she had done. Not with her reaching into the cold earth to bring forth the one person who had become the sum total of his heart. He would destroy that revenant if he must. I killed him once, he could have said to her. I killed him once. I could do it again. He would destroy himself if he were to do so, yet he would do that. Such would be better than to leave Gin beneath her control. Anything but that. He would never permit this travesty to stand. And how deeply this reached into the fury he contained for himself. It was rerouted, directed now in a blindingly hot display towards this simplistic plea for friendship.

                 ❝ Even if you were to release him now, even if you were to grovel before me, even if you were to cut your own diseased black little heart out of your chest before my very eyes, we would never become friends. It would not happen in a hundred years. Not in a thousand. It will not happen even at the end of the universe itself, when its heat-death is playing out. Not even then would you and I ever become FRIENDS. NOT AFTER WHA YOU HAVE DONE TO HIM. ❞

                 Rage, rage, against the dying of the light --- so it was said. A poem that had enchanted him when he'd read it and a poem he had thusly read to Gin years ago, eyes bright behind his glasses with delight. How he would rage indeed. He would rage against the death of the moon, against the sheer insult tied into what Gigi had done with her callous indifference to what it meant. And so her words inspired a freshened surge of something that was only baleful, promising that he would rip her apart with his own hands.

                 Aizen had never sought to control Gin. He had never wanted to control him. Gin had ever been the soul to challenge the dark-haired traitor. He wouldn't hesitate to call him out if he were doing something stupid or foolish. He had met Aizen head-on, halfway, and he had ever been given the highest esteem and trust for that. Controlling people had never been something that he desired to behold. He had never wanted to envision the young man tied by strings that would be pulled on the way she did, plucking upon one or another with callous glee. The same sort of glee that he imagined would show itself in a child who'd tear the wings off of flies with a petty sort of cruelty. Hers was the child's cruelty, the child's glee, at being able to hurt something far weaker.

                 If he had wanted, he could have twisted Gin all the more, broken him, turned him into a proper tool. He had his ways. Aizen knew he was capable of that. But no; he hadn't wanted to break him. Breaking that brilliant young man would have served no purpose. There had been no reason for it. And as the years had gone by, the understanding that he would never break him had seeped slowly through his soul. The thoughts he'd once indulged in when they had first met had changed. He had changed. Perhaps another man might resent that change, but not him.

                 Gin had always brought out both the best and the worst in Aizen Sousuke.

                 That gimlet stare did not relent, stare boring into the features which seemed so delicate. A deceptive look. For a man who was at his core a predator, he was not fooled. Play the little innocent all she might, he would never be fooled by it. He would never be fooled by her. And the question that she dared voice was insulting at its very core. How she didn't see it. How she simply could not understand that the question had been enough to prove so much to him, by its birth, by its voicing. Did she think this would be an olive branch? Did Gigi truly believe that things could ever be made right between them?

                 How stupid did she think he was?

                 ❝ Your question proves to me one thing: you don't understand me. You don't understand why it's such an insult. What do you, an ignorant child, know of what it means to care about someone so much that the vision of them being a SLAVE TO A STUPID LITTLE GIRL'S WHIMS IS SOMETHING THAT IS NOTHING SHORT OF YOUR OWN IGNORANCE? AND YOU ASK ME IF WE CAN BE FRIENDS?! FRIENDS?! YOU DARE ASK ME IF WE CAN BE FRIENDS AFTER EVERYTHING THAT YOU HAVE DONE TO HIM?! We will NEVER be friends. NEVER. ❞

                 Not even if she released Gin this instant and surrendered him back to Aizen with her understanding she had no right, no right, to lay any sort of claim to him.

                 Not even if he were to put her life to an end with his own hands.

                 Not even if Aizen were given leave to rip her throat out with his own teeth.

                 Gin was his. Gin had been his for over a hundred years and Aizen would never allow this travesty to perpetuate itself. Not when she had no idea of what she stepped on with her ignorance. Fingers twitched and flexed at his sides before his hands were lashing out, seeking to grab at her throat and grip tight. The power was a swelling thing, promising to begin eating into the flesh of her neck while Aizen's broad, tall form leaned over her own, a snarling rising upon his mouth. Yet it was made all the more terrible for how the anger did not reach his eyes.

                 His gaze was cold, a judge passing verdict, impassive and uncaring; for all the outward heat of the anger, the true display of his scorn for her was cold as the void of space. His lips pulled away from his teeth and a slow pulse of black seemed to bead across his vision, starting to edge slowly in from the outer corner of his eye in a swelling morass of inky blobs that danced across the surface of his sclera while shoulders remained stiff with nothing short of sheer and unadulterated rage. How dare she. How dare this ignorant child ask him if they could ever become friends.

                 He was not whole. He would never again be whole, not with what she had done. Aizen knew Gin.

                 He knew that this would never have been something that would be agreed to by the man he had called his partner. He knew that there was nothing that would ever make this right.

                 Of course, that had been fate writ into stone from the first time he'd beheld that swaying revenant at her side. He would never forgive her. And they would never become friends. Aizen Sousuke was not a man who hated easily --- it might have surprised many to know that, but he did not. Urahara Kisuke had been all but the sole source of his enmity, along with the Soul King. And now a third person was contained in that bubble of his animosity. She sat there, this Quincy, in that spot in his heart. He felt nothing for her beyond sheer contempt and raw rage. He felt nothing for her beyond those emotions and thusly would Giselle Gewelle ever be contained in that tangled mass of hatred from him.

                 She dared ask him to be friends?

                 She was a fool.

                 HIs hands sought to grip tighter if she hadn't been fast enough. She could never be fast enough.

                 ❝ All that I want from you is him. Nothing more. Nothing less. Friendship will never be between us. ❞

[biskael]

It's modest ; not much, in comparison to grand gestures others would provide. But the heft of it weighs in her arms, and axes' sharpened blade was enough to split hair. The bow on top, as purple as her irises, is merely a bonus. She smiles, heaving it into his arms.

❝ Happy Birthday!! ❞

IT SURPRISES HIM , when she wanders into the commons with an axe in tow . ordering others to move on her way in , calling over them in her high voice . she knew well what he liked , and everything she'd ever given him was certainly cherished . well-worn , in the case of weaponry . something that would open up any foe foolish enough to attack his majesty's army .

gently , but not without a heft of his own , quilge holds the axe on high , marveling at its craftsmanship . he could lift it with a frightening ease .

" gigichen , this is absolutely beautiful . did I ever tell you that one of my first gifts i'd ever received was a headsman's axe ? it was from my father ... but , ah , that was so very long ago .

thank you .

now , there's cake and wine in the dining hall , should you wish to have some . "

@zombiigrl

[resentfulcherubim]

Walks in. Hears Giselle. Walks out.

[keikakudori]

                 They were a beast and the heart of a beast. Here, in this moment, they were once more thrust into opposing sides. Here, it was here, in this moment, that Aizen Sousuke had understood one thing; that this Quincy had done something for which SHE COULD NEVER AGAIN FIND HERSELF FORGIVEN.

                 How swift the Hollow that lurched and moved, claws catching flesh but not enough, not nearly enough to satisfy the wrath which howled within vein and bone, a raw sensation that unfurled like vast wings. It subsumed thought into the impulse to sink those rows of fangs into the soft and yielding surface of the girl's throat. How easily it would rip open for his desires if he was to do that very thing here.

                 There was no thought of the viper yet, for he was not as important as the dark-haired girl that had done this.

                 Yet inattention was a compounding thing for the flickering blade was quick to lash at his shoulders, splitting arms from their moorings and making them drop towards the ground. There was a roar that staggered the air, a bellowing of rage and pain, that grinding cry of a Hollow even as the sky seemed to crack above them.

                 For it was true that Hollows could call out for aid, was it not?

                 The dark figure didn't stop, however. Brown swirled like streams of seaweed caught in underwater currents, flowed about the broad shoulders in curling swirls that did nothing to hide the sudden flowing of fresh limbs that burst into view. Naked from bindings, the cut straps were starting to sag even as the beast's head whipped about and a noise almost like a WHINE escaped the Hollow, a sound that was not something made by a human throat.

                 Why are you hurting me? it seemed to say. Why are you hurting me? I am not your foe.

                 Naked arms spanned out to his sides, hands blackened with the color creeping along those forearms until fading once more into the naturally tanned skin that was Aizen's own. Dark talons curled in long points of glassy ink as the monster seemed to hesitate for a second even as the blade rose and was set to that chest. Blank depths of white widened for a second and a thick chirp that was unsettled sounded.

                 Something in the monster seemed to recognize what that stance was.

                 Then the blade became an eruption of pain, plunging again and again and AGAIN through that figure, a torso left punctured time and time again, sending puffs of blood into the air with each protrusion of the weapon through him. It knocked the Hollow back, step by agonized step, the beast letting out snarls of agony as taloned feet flexed and curled to try to grasp at the ground that was not there. The air itself let out a loud metallic SCREECH as those claws raked upon it, seeking to bring him to a proper halt from the motion which had left him hurled back.

                 Yet still the beast did not drop whilst the fang made from sharp-edged carbon steel bit through that body again and again, puncturing organs, nearly tearing the body apart. Every blow left speckles of shards, glistening like an unseen constellation within the flesh. How bright it must have shone to the awareness of the revenant stepping forth to do war upon the figure of the man he had once named his own captain.

                 But neither of them were who they had once been, were they?

                 How the monstrous form hunched forward when the onslaught suddenly ceased, ragged straps of what remained of those bindings sagging where they had not been destroyed entirely, slithering with blood-wet PLOPS upon the ground beneath his feet. And still the monster stood, those pale eyes focused less upon the Quincy and far more upon this figure that he knew. There was an understanding here. He knew who this person was. He knew--- somewhere within that head was a voice, crying out, howling a name that seemed to expel between his fangs.

                 ❝ Gih--... G-... ❞

                 An attempt to vocalize.

                 An attempt that failed.

                 The arm lifted, and those eyes went wide again before a snarl was ripping the air apart and the half-clad monster was moving again, less than a blur and more of a thought, distance put between them. Yet not fast enough. Not enough, even as the shards of blade were left to obey the command of the one who wielded that wakizashi. Flesh cratered and grew void in the impact of poison that raced through his torso, one shard, then another and another, all expanding outwards like supernovae, the hearts of stars bursting asunder and devouring the flesh they were embedded within. It grew, like poisonous flowers speeding through the gestalt nature of bud to blossom, eradicating the housing of meat and bone alike.

                 The sound was grotesque, more akin to a balloon engorged with blood being slammed into a flat surface and exploding on impact. What had once been the form of Aizen Sousuke -- his body, at least -- was left being DEVOURED BY THAT POISON.

                 How that day echoed endlessly between them, bouncing ever in a Moebius strip between them both.

                 From the waist up did not remain much of the proud man's body, not with those pieces flung aside; regrown arms and head flying to separate landing points even as the lower portion of his form was left to collapse down upon itself. The remnants of organs were left to slew across the ground, the raw septic stink of ruptured bowels rising to the air while blood flooded outwards. The slick red-purple containers of the body's secrets were left to disgorge themselves upon the terrain at hand, thick heavy slops of organic matter a spewing mess of ruin, ragged edges fleshy and bright with coloration that seemed somehow wrong from where they spilled out. Gobbets of meat were scattered about from where the devouring bursts of that poison had hurled them like fleshy shrapnel here and there upon the landscape and they still quivered with the force of impact that had left them decorating their current housing. Red-glossed shards of bone could be picked out here and there, if one looked close enough, yet so much had been devoured by the poison contained within those fragments.

                 But not enough.

                 It was not enough to stop him.

                 Had that not been established on that day two years ago when Gin had reached his hand out, just as he did now, and commanded that poison to consume Aizen's heart?

                 Did he not own it? He had owned it for so long. It only made a certain sense that the one who was Aizen's right hand had the right to devour that heart.

                 It began with the spine.

                 The jagged ends began to move and close, forming a complete vertebrae before it was stretching out like a growing snake, from lumbar vertebrae to cervical, a bud swelling at the tip into a proper skull. Ribs suddenly swept upwards and around to complete the latticework of anatomical foundation stones, conjoining into the bone of the sternum. Yellow fibrous filaments of nerves were next, slithering through the vertebrae, followed next by the tissues which were part of the spine, sacks of fluid that cushioned each one in visible nature. One bone was left stacked atop another until the skull began to grow in a strange inversion of Rudobon's own ability where those endless soldiers would be born from the so-called fruits of the skulls. How quickly if formed, teeth visible from sharper canines to bright molars, gleaming brightly and sharply in that moment.

                 Clavicles beget shoulders, arm bones extruding like the branches of a tree's branches and forming the groundwork for those limbs. Then came the sudden engulfing of muscle fibres, rising along the established bones, skin growing over it and sweeping to conceal the bones which had been left so naked. Accompanying those muscle fibres were the branching network of veins sliding alongside the nervous system that grew, waving about and then laying flat against the body, forming the network of arteries and capillaries bound by tubes of further tissue. An unwinding, an undoing, fueled by the power of the Hogyoku itself for it would not permit that to last. All in breathless heartbeats, organs starting to repair themselves even as that immortal body knitted itself together. Strands of hair began to sprout from that bald pate as muscle and tendon and skin all covered it, thick spools of brown sprouting and extending outwards, brows and lashes coming in like grass rising through the lingering snows of winter.

                 Perhaps most unsettling had been the fact that the Hogyoku had indeed dropped to the ground as well, but even in the midst of the body rebuilding itself, it rose and flared with a brilliant incandescence. How it vibrated, glowing with an inner fire akin to that of a newborn sun. How it echoed that day in its own right, glossy red-white muscles vanishing beneath the expanse of skin and still that orb glowed as if to remind them both of the bridge that they shared, the connection, intricate bonds that were unable to be spoken of with any coherence that others might understand. Was the crumbling orb now the heart of this monstrous immortal?

                 Once, Gin himself had held that very thing before everything had changed. He had known it for years. And it had known him.

                 Now that sphere was sinking into a chest left bared, the bindings no longer wrapping around that body, hiding nothing of that moment as it nested into that portion of his chest where it had once been housed. How it returned, pressing against skin before melding into it and still it pulsed, flickering like a star caught against the velvet throat of night.

                 That black mask came next, into a shield of coal-dark hardness, whilst the void in his chest suddenly manifested once more.

                 The air suddenly crackled with a sudden swelling of power before it split with a ROAR. Once more, the jaws were agape and the screaming of the Hollow could not be denied this time, a rising howl cresting like the height of a wave as the ground beneath them TREMBLED. On and on and ON the sound went, the screaming of a soul bared and naked, which had sunk into a rage which could not be so easily stopped. How the earth shook, as if the world itself quaked in terror at the birth of the creature which had once more returned.

                 Had there been a vague sensation of hope and victory for the Quincy? Surely not. Not with the fact that Aizen had already gotten back up once already. A blade through his head and how he had dropped. No one else could claim this life but the silver-scaled snake that had long ago been given a home within that rib cage. Who better than him to take that life again? Who better than this serpent that had been allowed to sink into a place no one else had ever occupied in the life of the traitor? Gin had ever been given a place no one else ever had. And never would Aizen permit another soul to get so close again.

                 Losing Gin meant he would ever be closed off to others. He would never trust another soul in that way. He would never give anyone else what he had given freely to the viper that had ever been at his side.

                 There was no help, no aid. That body launched itself from the ground, taloned feet left to grasp upon a chunk of fallen masonry as another of those howls bulged upwards throughout the atmosphere, a cascading roaring filling the air.

                 It was the outcry of a wounded heart, broken, broken--- a terrible sound. That sound was the cry of one who had struggled for their whole life and were filled with a sense of loss that cut beyond flesh and bone. The wound was one which bled with no sign of healing ever have begun. How could it have? How could he ever hope to heal with the understanding that the fault LAID UPON HIS OWN SHOULDERS? And thus that howling, a raging noise that laid everything out in those moments.

                 In that noise was howled all of the grief, the anguish, the sheer PAIN that had been left to consume Aizen Sousuke in those two years hence. Words could not have conveyed the depth of LOSS that came through in that sound, an agony that was worse than the poison which had once more consumed the heart of the man who dwelt beneath the Hollow's mask. It was the screaming of the man's soul, a scream that had been echoing on and on, an endless refrain that had left him steeped in the deepest of sorrows. That loss could bring tears to the eyes, a scream that had bubbled up in his throat and remained caught for two years from that awful day finally being unleashed now, a scream of horror and of wounding, of unutterable emotions that could only be conveyed in this singular moment. It was a scream that could make many flinch back from what the sound held so tightly; a suffering, an awareness of one's own suffering.

                 A grieving that had no parallel. No healing. No path forward.

                 It was a sound that echoed something that made whatever the Quincy think was felt pale into insignificance.

                 There was love in that sound, an echoing of it even now. If one were to but cock their head and listen closely enough, perhaps one might hear something beneath the howling. A love that was of such boundless depths that it might startle those that had known him, to comprehend that Aizen Sousuke was not so heartless as all of that. Were the masks of Hollow not there to protect their heart, though? Was he not seeking to protect his own heart?

                 Yet how that voice seemed to echo in the sound, how it seemed to reach out, imploring, pleading for recognition, for the man who had come to eclipse and predominate so much of his outlook on life, who had become something that he had ever sought in his life -- who was the sole recipient of all that guilt and remorse, who was proof of the self-loathing and hatred that was directed at the would-be god. How he hated himself.

                 How this encounter pained him.

                 Gin--! Gin, please...! Gin! I'm sorry, Gin!

                 But that was if one knew what they were listening for.

                 Then the sound was cut off and the beast was snarling again. Bared from the waist now, with strands of hair draping across broad shoulders, power now unbound was left to blanket the area in a swelling tidal wave of immense pressure. He had always been powerful and had ever kept restraints on himself. Yet this was a power that could perhaps stagger even Gin in this moment, for he had only grown in strength in those two years, outclassing his already prodigious power that had swelled to new heights on that cold winter's day. So it was left to blanket this place and the Hollow was charging, moving without warning. The lack of the restraints meant that power was left to be a restraint its own.

                 Between one moment and the next, he was there before Gin.

                 Black-clawed hand lashing out, he was quick to grasp that slim wrist and twisted his grip with such quick speed that there was no chance for bones and tendons to withstand the pressure or the torque involved and a deep HISS erupted as the Hollow was quick to yank in the same motion with enough force to dislocate that arm from its anchor point from the shoulder. Then he was turning and the transformed godling was HURLING Gin with ferocity towards that plane of flattened terrain with such force that the air itself might be ripped from those lungs which held only a parody of breath. It'd be a miracle if those fingers retained their grip on Shinso and, if the blade had dropped in the wake of that break, the head of the Hollow tilted to look down towards the wakizashi before it was stooping, crouching to slide fingers out to the pale blue hilt with a sharp keening of sound.

                 With great care, the hand scooped up the blade before he rose and turned that pale stare towards the Quincy. Another snarling of sound before the beast began to pace towards her, each step wooden and dreadful in its gait. This was not the civilized, courteous man that had likely drawn the focus of Yhwach. This was a monster unleashed, the Hogyoku's brilliance contained in the chest which had once more formed that empty void within his chest, holding it suspended in that Hollow's hole.

                 He was going to kill her.

GIGI'S ORDERS TO DEFEND HER STILL REMAINED, RESONATING IN HIS HEAD. The moment that beast emerged, lunging forth to fling the Quincy from Gin's midst and into a pale tall tower reduced quickly to rubble, Gin was firing his Bankai-active blade once more to skewer into that deformed flesh. He aimed for the shoulders, both, rapid-succession swipes seeking to render the feral beast armless and incapable of mauling his master outright. He'd have to use teeth, fangs, that strange mask upon the face which once resided there in wide-eyed and distraught emotions, Gin seemed so distant and yet aware of the fact that he was cutting down Aizen Sousuke again and again, causing that evolution to surge forth tirelessly.

Such was the nature of this new and improved dance of theirs, death again and again, both of them lifeless and both of them incapable of truly dying. YET GIGI CALLED OUT TO HIM NOW, NEAR-BEGGING HIM TO STAY ALIVE. It seemed funny, almost enough to make Gin spit out a laugh so hoarse and empty it could be mistaken for a sob. Stay alive, don't let that thing kill him? He was already dead, he wasn't alive, and this thing had already killed him once before.

Aizen's rampaging called for heightened measures, and that restraint which once had Gin willing to forget, or pretend he forgot, about the poison which ran deep inside each particle of his blade... well, it was slipping. Slipping, perhaps, thanks to the fact that Gigi's thoughts also alluded towards poison of a different nature; the inherent opposites of Hollow and Quincy called for a rather poisonous encounter when Hollow inflicted Quincy with a wound seeped in their tainting reiatsu. Gigi was in pain, poisoned, so Gin sought to return the favor.

He couldn't stop himself, after all. HE HAD TO STOP AIZEN FROM HURTING HER ANY FURTHER. Shinso moved, aligning itself with the hilt placed at the center of his chest, both hands bracing around the weapon to firmly keep it steady. Aiming towards Aizen, Gin uttered a simple command.

❝ Buto: Renjin. ❞

An eruption. That was the best way to describe the immediate storm of blades so tightly plunging together that they were indiscernible from one another, a mass that was not visible in motion -- only in the brief split-millisecond moment that they spent skewering every inch of Aizen's body. Roaring, the sound barrier snapped at the same time as the blades receded, invisible in motion save for the delayed woosh of air as it was blown via force of the unfathomable speed. Stabbed over hundreds of times within the span of the same fraction of a millisecond, Gin also relinquished several pieces of his poison-laced blade whilst Kamishini No Yari delivered its grueling strikes. The terrain that stretched eight miles beyond Aizen Sousuke's husk was now terraformed, flattened, and pulverized into rubble.

Gin lowered Shinso, wakizashi-length once more and notably missing a sizable sliver of steel from the center of its now-bloodied length. Onwards he stepped, needing to near himself to properly activate what awaited within the hundreds of wounds freshly afflicted to the Hollowfied beast. Limb outstretched, yet did not touch, as a empty reenactment commenced with the vacant-spoken words drifting into the air between them.

YOU'RE GONNA DIE WITH A HOLE IN YOUR HEART, JUST LIKE YOU ALWAYS WANTED.

❝ Kill, Kamishini No Yari. ❞

[gyakusama]

💞+ i'm sure you're still a loser virgin, but if you're SOMEHOW not, who'd you sleep with that was a 10/10? Your hand doesn't count <3

💞 + any dirty questions

❝ Yer pussy's way too dry to be ridin' my dick this hard, Cupcake. ❞

❝ Well, I guess people say Aizen's a ten outta ten... ❞ Of course the first person he's ever slept with that was so obviously out of his league would also be the first person that comes to mind fitting of that rating.

[bazz-b]

❝ Cocka -Doodle - Do~!! ❞

"DING-DONG THE BITCH IS DEAD."

[cinghialefedele]

❝ Tes~la! ❞

He perks up to the sound of her voice. He walks briskly over to her, smiling. He'd hug her, but he's not sure if that's the right thing to do.

"Giselle~! How are you? It's been so long!"

[za-baransu]

What even were the reasons behind some directives and declarations that had been all but unbeknownst to those that were not privy to the assignment's very core? Some of the closer associates, some advisors had argued that those to be eradicated in a few hours at most were still of pure origin, of a means to be useful, that they should be spared, if only usefulness had not been discarded by the mere wave of the Emperor's hand. There was, afterwards, no apparent attempt anymore to sway a decision made.

And such there was also no time wasted when she spoke, when she replied. ' I'm ready, I think. ' - all enough for him to raise a hand. To allow the pitch-black pool of pulsing and distorting shadows forming in his palm to paint the ground in a portal of effortless grandeur.

He had gotten the coordinates for where to go. Had received from their Majesty the place to bring them both, knowing well enough that a select few comrades would arrive later. Watching and waiting to ground out dust whatever would [ could? ] remain. But the main show? The desirable attraction? All for her. " Did you have time to think about what you want to do? " Stepping through the portal just when he asked, would the Grandmaster wait for Giselle to 'lead the way'. He spoke in that barely perceptible, softened whisper that was nought else but an attempt to ground her in their particular reality. Jugram was not meant to engage [ but would he not if need be? ], he was meant to be there for her.

" I will report later on what you decide. Whatever you desire, I will be alright with. " How much does he truly know about it all? How much had Yhwach told him, had their God bestowed upon him in particular knowledge? Enough? Or not [ would it matter? ]? " Do you want me to cage them in place? Or do you want to have them run for a hunt? " || @zombiigrl

It had been coming, for some time.  In her heart, and in her soul, she had felt it so. Times where she should not have hesitated, she’d freeze, stop, her emotions welling fast and strong like the tsunami oncoming. Her limbs would shake, and the tears would  come quick. THERE WAS, IN TRUTH, SO MUCH TIED TO HER LIFE BACK HOME. A life she wished was not so. 

It was both of some surprise, and none at all when the order came. Return home. Destroy what you must to find peace.  At first, she knew not what to say. Express gratitude? Fight against those orders, knowing her family to be pure, to be of use to the Quincy still? USEFUL, OF COURSE, BUT  CRUEL. 

She sat at her bed, feet kicking idly as she lost herself to the oncoming madness of thought, fingers sliding through dark hair as palms covered her ears, to drown her very voice out.  Attention is caught only when room door slowly opens, and  she slides from her seat, upright and attentive as the Grandmaster enters. He speaks on her assignment, and throat grows tight,  Giselle knowing in her heart that destruction of her home would leave something vile behind. A scar that would take some time  to heal. 

Odd, though ; she’d always dreamed of it.  Burning her ancestral home to the ground, sending her family scrambling and begging for her mercy at their knees. LITTLE DID SHE  KNOW, THE TRUTH OF THIS ASSIGNMENT.  

❝ O .. Of course, Herr Grandmaster. I’m ready, I think.  ❞

[elquellora]

❝ It's not too la~ate! You just grab her real soft, and give her a kiss! Duh. That's the proper thank you for such nice presents! ❞

"...I see."

[enidette]

ANNOUNCEMENT !

hi ! making this post to say i changed my user, i used to be @/aurasplanet so don’t forget me 👻 my blog is gonna be under construction for a bit while i figure out all my links again >_0 tagging moots sorry i just want everyone to know

@carlsangel @carlslvr @coveofthesiren @carlsdarling @dev-sturns @zombiigrll @elisiassideb1tch @violetashfall @mozzeralla-stix @hiro--aoki @carlmipololo @noodlewritez @girlthatsinsane @crxssbowcarl @lunarnightt @twds-things @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n