ken Interesting duel.

—— " Heh … y’feel that? it wasn’t just the sound of my sonido, that crack was your jaw tryin’ to remember where the rest of your face went. Two-for-one special. Wanna line up again? "

—— The aftershock of colliding Ceros still danced in the air, leaving a shimmer of residual destruction across the battlefield. But to Grimmjow, that chaos was home. The thrill of it was enough to crack his lips into a wolfish smirk, not in search of an opening, but to make one before ——

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝐻𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑡ℎ 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡ℎ 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒄𝒆 ᯽ 𝖫𝖨𝖪𝖤 𝖬𝖮𝖱𝖲𝖤𝖫𝖲: 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗰𝗮𝗻—— 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙡𝙙 ? • • • 大 紅 蓮 氷 輪 丸 #BLEACHRP, #MVRP. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀ not that she expected him to. not that starrk would expect him to either. " and you needn't swing your sword with regret , starrk. after all ... in this fight , no one will be lost to us. " ⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Yet in that pregnant pause, Aizen’s voice softened, a whisper threading through the void like a promise — or a curse. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 〝⠀Now, instead of ⠀⠀blinking … 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝒘𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏.⠀〞 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

〝⠀I am not your adversary, Jin-Woo. I am the reckoning you refuse to acknowledge — the silence beyond your symphony, the shadow that completes your light.⠀〞The battlefield seemed to inhale, the atmosphere thickening as if the world itself awaited the inevitable crescendo. ➟

he cleaved the space between them — not with violence, but with undeniable authority. The slash did not carve flesh or bone. Instead, it severed intent, slicing through Jin-Woo’s domain like a scalpel excising the cancer of defiance. ➟

〝⠀You mistake the abyss for a blank page, but it is a palimpsest — layered with the ink of countless souls who dared to challenge the inevitable.⠀〞His sword rose, the air coalescing around it in a symphony of silent thunder, and with a deliberate, almost reverential motion, ➟

… the hand that 𝑠𝑜𝑤𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑜𝑠 and the pen that dictates order.⠀〞Aizen’s form shimmered, phasing between existence and oblivion as if unbound by mortal constraints. The very concept of his being became a riddle, a cipher composed of light devoured and darkness birthed. ➟

each syllable a gravitational tide pulling at the strands of Jin-Woo’s carefully wrought cosmos. Yet within the pull lay a paradox: not domination, but invitation. 〝⠀But even the void hungers— not for sustenance, but for recognition. To be named is to be known, and to be known is to be… claimed.⠀〞➟

Aizen’s gaze did not flinch beneath the shadow’s claim. Instead, it deepened — fathomless, a chasm where the birth of stars met the death of gods, where reason dissolved into reverie. His voice emerged, not as sound, but as a vibration stirring the very marrow of existence. ➟

𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖬𝖨𝖱𝖱𝖮𝖱 𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖭𝖤𝖵𝖤𝖱 𝖱𝖤𝖥𝖫𝖤𝖢𝖳𝖤𝖣 𝖡𝖠𝖢𝖪. 𝖼𝗁𝗉𝗍. 𝟥 ☲ 𝖫𝖠𝖬𝖤𝖭𝖳 𝖮𝖥 𝖠𝖡𝖲𝖤𝖭𝖢𝖤.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀𝘈𝘮 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 ? ⠀⠀⠀⠀... 𝘖𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 ? The mirror closes behind him. Not like a trap. But like a promise. ❪ 𝒄𝒉𝒑𝒕. 𝟯 - 𝐄𝐍𝐃. ❫ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

There’s a part of me that only wakes in the 𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏... #𝖲𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖣𝖲𝖴𝖭𝖣𝖠𝖸 𝖧𝖾’𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾. 𝖧𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗌. 𝖧𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗌. But he swings「斬月」like he was 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘵. Maybe he was. Maybe I was just the part pretending not to be him.

Get a room.

⠀ one who possesses 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 should require a 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙤𝙣 to ⠀ ⠀╌┈⎯╾⃰ 𝑭𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻. ⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ❪ 𝗖 𝗢 𝗬 𝗢 𝗧 𝗘 𝗦 𝗧 𝗔 𝗥 𝗥 𝗞 ❫ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗔𝗡 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀BLEACH. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

Recruiting is open. ACCEPTING ACTIVE AND CONSISTENT MEMBERS.

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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ❪ 𝗖 𝗢 𝗬 𝗢 𝗧 𝗘 𝗦 𝗧 𝗔 𝗥 𝗥 𝗞 ❫ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗔𝗡 𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀BLEACH. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

It’s late , he’s tired …

You know … esp*da really do grind my gears , but I’m tired.

⠀ 𝙸𝙵 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚜 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗 . . . 𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝙸 𝚊𝚖 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚌𝚎. 護廷開祖 ⠀

His eyes, half-lidded but glowing faintly now with a chill brilliance, drifted toward Harribel. Then back to Grimmjow. 〝⠀I’ll keep pulling the trigger until one of us stays down.⠀〞And behind him, another orb had already begun to form. But slower this time. Not from caution. From boredom—𝒎𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒚.

〝⠀I’m not the one who wants the throne, Grimmjow. I just don’t want to be dragged into another grave because someone else is clawing for a crown made of bones.⠀〞He turned slightly, lowering his arm. … 〝⠀But if you 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 want to do this …⠀〞

Grimmjow’s reiatsu clashed with it mid-air — cobalt rage against washed-out annihilation. The detonation didn’t crack like thunder. It rang — hollow and slow, as if the world had just remembered it, too, was tired. And when the winds cleared, Starrk stood alone,

〝⠀𝑪𝒆𝒓𝒐 𝑨𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒐,⠀〞he named it softly — a name not recorded in battle logs. A cero that had never needed to be used until now. A cero that meant: 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝐼 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡 𝑖𝑡. And then — release.

The energy swelled with unbearable gravity. It felt slow, but it wasn’t — dense, compacted to the point the air shimmered around it, a ball of infinite stillness that quaked silently, like the breath held before the plunge. It wasn’t fire. It was erosion. All-consuming and eternal.

Only spiritual pressure rising like the tide — cold, melancholic, and cataclysmic. A low hum began to pulse from his palm, a murky, sea-glass-blue orb forming at its center. But this wasn’t a cero in name only — this was a 𝗣𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗮’𝘀 cero. The kind that didn’t boast. The kind that didn’t need to.

—— Left hand braced against the right, elbow rigid, shoulders taut with ritualistic discipline. The physical union of his limbs alone could contain the gargantuan force amassed within, Not to steady—no, Grimmjow did not doubt his aim. Restraining it only to savor the coalescence ——

/ Oh we all have the chance to pull the greatest shit ever

—— “ 𝗚 𝗥 𝗔 𝗡 𝗥 𝗘 𝗬 𝗖 𝗘 𝗥 𝗢. ” Firing without an iota of hesitancy, surging forth the moment his opponents dared to declare their defiance. It tore through the air, meeting the two Espada head-on, clashing violently against the blade they - or - she would raise in futile opposition.

“ if you don't wish for battle , starrk , fall back. but if you wish to join it , follow your principles , and don't stray from them. ” thus , it 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨.

⠀ 𝐭iburón is then drawn. ⠀

⸜❤︎⸝‍ 𝑨𝒔𝒉𝒚’𝒔 T͟e͟m͟p̲l͟a͟t͟e͟ ！

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ 〝⠀If you swing that thing… you better be ready for 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵 of us.⠀〞 The wind died. The hush before the bite. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

—— incised by the metaphysical rift his motion wrought. The ground beneath him, though untouched, emitted a shudder deep in its substrata. Yet for all the ruin he invited, he stood in perfect equipoise. 𝓟antera was fully drawn, a living, hungry extension of his thirst. “ I’ll take you both on. ”

—— His fingers twitched at his side, an idle, unconscious flex, like claws remembering the motion of tearing. Not yet a threat. Not yet. But the promise hung in the motion, a near-gesture, as though violence was a nervous tic he couldn’t quite unlearn. “ Primera… ” ——

—— “ I ain’t here to talk. I’m here to take. ” Grimmjow let out a low snarl, a flash of wildness crossing his features. He didn’t want to think about the cost. “ Ain’t it just like old times? You two starin’ down your noses like I’m a damn stray that wandered back through the gate. “

“ but someone has to occupy that seat, ” she says. “ worthy or not , someone must lead us. and if there is none who can lead us ... then we will all fall into utter ruin , jaegerjaquez. ”

Goodness gracious …

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𝐿𝑎 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑎 𝑦 𝑙𝑎 𝐺𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑎.

He didn’t speak at first. Didn’t need to. Grimmjow’s words lingered like smoke in the stale air, curling around the silence the way regret never quite fades. His head tilted just slightly, just enough for the silver-blue strands to fall forward across his face, like shadows slipping over old ruins.

𝚆 𝙾 𝙻𝐕̵𝐄̵𝐒̵ 𝒂𝒊𝐧’𝐭 𝒉𝖔𝒘𝐥 𝗔͟ ͟𝗟͟ ͟𝗢͟ ͟𝗡͟ ͟𝗘͟. — #BLEACHRP