ext_265180 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
thunderwitch.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
tampered2007-02-20 12:43 am
thunderwitch.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-02-20 12:43 am
Log; Complete
When; Feb 19th, evening
Rating; PG-13 for sick and twisted
Characters; Cirucci {![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
thunderwitch} & Il Forte {garrisoned}
Summary; Il Forte comes to see the Privaron Espada after her defeat at the hands of a human boy, and... typical strange and slightly twisted behavior ensues.
Log;
Cirucci sighed softly, wiping blood from her mouth with the tips of fingers also coated in red. ... A futile effort, that, which brought a slight grimace to her lips. She hurt. A deep cut across her chest, from the top of the hole from her Hollow self to her collarbone, a cut on her mid-back, her shoulder, her upper-back... It took some effort to drag herself a ways, away from the Opera Abandoned where Aizen Sousuke had found her and bestowed her some reiatsu to her weakened form, enough that she could begin stopping the bleeding, closing the wounds, but not enough for her comfort. There was still that cap on her reiatsu, and the rest of her power was just tantalizingly within reach, which frustrated her, but... she didn't have the strength to be upset right now. ... Not right now. Il Forte should be coming, that was good... and she would wait, body slumped and nearly broken against a tree in the forest outskirts, white uniform stained with drying blood.
The reiatsu of the Thunderwitch was so faint that when Il Forte came upon her it surprised him, having expected her to be greater distance off. It was almost a cause for concern, but not quite. He made his way over to her hunched over figure, dropping to one knee in front of her and lowering his face to look at her, not bothering to contain the smirk playing at his lips. Served the bitch right, speaking as she had the other day. "Not doing so well, hm?" He purred, reaching to wipe some of the blood from her mouth, bringing his fingers back to his lips to taste it, keeping his eyes on hers the whole time. He was admittedly curious as to who -- or what-- could have done this kind of damage to a Privaron Espada, but he would save the questions for later.
The corner of her lips twitched into something like a smile. Ah, there he was. “Hmm, been waiting.” She whispered, pleased to see him. For he was her favorite, for all their spats and occasional injuries and insults. The Privaron grit her teeth to sit up straighter, using only the arm uninjured to prop herself on, moving slowly so not to reopen the delicately closed wounds on back and chest. “But I knew you’d come.” Cirucci’s eyes closed for a moment before she opened them to meet his gaze again.
That she had taken the liberty of counting on his word, that he had given her reason to believe she was correct in doing so was irritating enough that he nearly stood to walk away. Before he could, however, he felt something that put him on edge more than traces of trust between arrancar ever could. His eyes narrowed and he reached for her hand, bringing it to his face and pressing a kiss to her palm as he let his reiatsu flow into her through his fingertips. "You've been to Aizen-sama?" He asked quietly, voice even for all the disgust that curled in the pit of his stomach.
Her gaze had narrowed when he had turned, Il Forte could be so very sensitive, in her opinion, but her eyes met his once more at the gallant show, though she knew the sentiment behind it was not so gentlemanly. But she gave a soft noise at the feel of his reiatsu intertwining with hers, allowing her to pull strength from him, easing the wound’s pain, the bleeding, and the exhaustion. “He came to me.” She answered; glad now she had insisted her creator leave her, knowing what the Numeros reaction would have been if he’s found him here.
"Hn." The short reply was all he gave, bringing his other hand to run along her neck, trace her jawline and cup the side of her face, more reiatsu slipping into her as he lowered his face to kiss the soft skin of her wrist. "Has he nothing better to do than waste time with foolish underlings who enter fights they cannot win?" He was blind to his own hypocrisy in that moment, hate for the would-be god and something for his fellow arrancar, or the sheer irritation at that something easily driving it from his mind. Despite the harshness of his voice and eyes, his touch and the reiatsu that came from it were gentle.
Her body moved with his ministrations, pliant beneath his hand, eyes fluttering closed once more at the warm feeling of another’s reiatsu, silently directing Il Forte’s lent power towards healing her wounds. “You lost, too, Il Forte.” She murmured, though her voice was not harsh. She was done with that for now, too hurt to bother being abrasive or scathing with her tongue. “And the boy didn’t do that last time, he was easy prey…”
He sneered at the reminder but otherwise ignored it, letting his hand drop to rest loosely around her neck. That neck, more than any other neck, he wanted to feel it snap beneath his hands. That telltale crunch of the body breaking. He wanted it to ring in his ears, so that the next time their skin touched there would be no warmth between them. "If you didn't kill him the first time it's your own fault." He murmured, moving so that he sat against the tree and pulling her to rest against him, releasing greater amounts of reiatsu as he placed a kiss behind her ear.
Cirucci knew what he was thinking every time his fingers brushed her throat, felt the warmth pulsing through her body. And she had promised he would be the one to be able to end it, once she had made the decision. But not yet. “I learn not to toy with my prey, it seems.” Her body was relaxing, no longer tensed with pain, nestling against him, eyes fluttering between half open and shut, one hand focusing her reiatsu at the cut on her chest, the other reaching behind her to toy with a lock of long blonde hair, so stark a contrast against her own thick black that had long since fallen from it’s style to curl about her shoulders. “Does Il Forte learn anything?”
He ignored the question at first, moving his thumb back and forth against her skin as though trying to memorize the warmth, the texture. The quiet was good, the volume of speaking ideal, and he wondered if there was not a way to keep her in a perpetual state of injury. "I learn things I would rather not." He admitted quietly, in a tone that indicated he would not elaborate further. He put his arms around her and rested his cheek against her shoulder, not caring if the position was uncomfortable for her as she was. He felt tired, the ticking had put him on edge and he hadn't slept, so letting his eyes slip shut now was all too easy.
It was uncomfortable. She shifted slightly, wincing as his weight rested against her cut back, but she would be a liar if she said she didn’t take some pleasure from pain on occasion. And Il Forte was in a good mood, it seemed, something rare for her to take part in. Cirucci caught the tone and did not press, though she was sure she would want to later, was deathly curious. Her hand left her chest to curl over his own, staining his skin with her blood. “Going to sleep on me, Il Forte?” She cooed softly, a sigh escaping bloodied lips as she spoke. They’d had what could be called a lover’s quarrel the day before which had left the both frustrated it seemed, having become somewhat… accustomed, to the others prescence… being able to rely on that to assuage the ticking in their heads.
Eyes opening again slowly at the sound of her voice, he thought for a moment before sitting back up. "Let's go back." He said, not giving her time to respond as he made his way to his feet, pulling her up along with him and letting her lean against him for support. "You can finish healing at the apartment."
A slight twinge at being pulled to her feet, but she showed nothing else. The Privaron held loosely to his arm, not wanting to aggravate by leaning too heavily. “Very well, dear.” But the nickname had lost most of its bitter sarcasm, her legs shaking slightly as she matched his pace. “Home it is.” And it was sort of home, considering Il Forte couldn’t leave, and she had no desire. But… as they made their way a though occurred to Cirucci that made her smirk a bit. Her favorite liked when she was silent, but should her powers not be restored by the morrow… Il Forte would not be met by this quiet bed partner. Oh. And she needed to kill that girl sometime, to hurt that human boy... And that thought was what was on her mind as she straightened and turned her head to place a kiss on the other Arrancar’s cheek that left the faintest imprint in blood.
… That would be delightful.
Rating; PG-13 for sick and twisted
Characters; Cirucci {
thunderwitch} & Il Forte {garrisoned}Summary; Il Forte comes to see the Privaron Espada after her defeat at the hands of a human boy, and... typical strange and slightly twisted behavior ensues.
Log;
Cirucci sighed softly, wiping blood from her mouth with the tips of fingers also coated in red. ... A futile effort, that, which brought a slight grimace to her lips. She hurt. A deep cut across her chest, from the top of the hole from her Hollow self to her collarbone, a cut on her mid-back, her shoulder, her upper-back... It took some effort to drag herself a ways, away from the Opera Abandoned where Aizen Sousuke had found her and bestowed her some reiatsu to her weakened form, enough that she could begin stopping the bleeding, closing the wounds, but not enough for her comfort. There was still that cap on her reiatsu, and the rest of her power was just tantalizingly within reach, which frustrated her, but... she didn't have the strength to be upset right now. ... Not right now. Il Forte should be coming, that was good... and she would wait, body slumped and nearly broken against a tree in the forest outskirts, white uniform stained with drying blood.
The reiatsu of the Thunderwitch was so faint that when Il Forte came upon her it surprised him, having expected her to be greater distance off. It was almost a cause for concern, but not quite. He made his way over to her hunched over figure, dropping to one knee in front of her and lowering his face to look at her, not bothering to contain the smirk playing at his lips. Served the bitch right, speaking as she had the other day. "Not doing so well, hm?" He purred, reaching to wipe some of the blood from her mouth, bringing his fingers back to his lips to taste it, keeping his eyes on hers the whole time. He was admittedly curious as to who -- or what-- could have done this kind of damage to a Privaron Espada, but he would save the questions for later.
The corner of her lips twitched into something like a smile. Ah, there he was. “Hmm, been waiting.” She whispered, pleased to see him. For he was her favorite, for all their spats and occasional injuries and insults. The Privaron grit her teeth to sit up straighter, using only the arm uninjured to prop herself on, moving slowly so not to reopen the delicately closed wounds on back and chest. “But I knew you’d come.” Cirucci’s eyes closed for a moment before she opened them to meet his gaze again.
That she had taken the liberty of counting on his word, that he had given her reason to believe she was correct in doing so was irritating enough that he nearly stood to walk away. Before he could, however, he felt something that put him on edge more than traces of trust between arrancar ever could. His eyes narrowed and he reached for her hand, bringing it to his face and pressing a kiss to her palm as he let his reiatsu flow into her through his fingertips. "You've been to Aizen-sama?" He asked quietly, voice even for all the disgust that curled in the pit of his stomach.
Her gaze had narrowed when he had turned, Il Forte could be so very sensitive, in her opinion, but her eyes met his once more at the gallant show, though she knew the sentiment behind it was not so gentlemanly. But she gave a soft noise at the feel of his reiatsu intertwining with hers, allowing her to pull strength from him, easing the wound’s pain, the bleeding, and the exhaustion. “He came to me.” She answered; glad now she had insisted her creator leave her, knowing what the Numeros reaction would have been if he’s found him here.
"Hn." The short reply was all he gave, bringing his other hand to run along her neck, trace her jawline and cup the side of her face, more reiatsu slipping into her as he lowered his face to kiss the soft skin of her wrist. "Has he nothing better to do than waste time with foolish underlings who enter fights they cannot win?" He was blind to his own hypocrisy in that moment, hate for the would-be god and something for his fellow arrancar, or the sheer irritation at that something easily driving it from his mind. Despite the harshness of his voice and eyes, his touch and the reiatsu that came from it were gentle.
Her body moved with his ministrations, pliant beneath his hand, eyes fluttering closed once more at the warm feeling of another’s reiatsu, silently directing Il Forte’s lent power towards healing her wounds. “You lost, too, Il Forte.” She murmured, though her voice was not harsh. She was done with that for now, too hurt to bother being abrasive or scathing with her tongue. “And the boy didn’t do that last time, he was easy prey…”
He sneered at the reminder but otherwise ignored it, letting his hand drop to rest loosely around her neck. That neck, more than any other neck, he wanted to feel it snap beneath his hands. That telltale crunch of the body breaking. He wanted it to ring in his ears, so that the next time their skin touched there would be no warmth between them. "If you didn't kill him the first time it's your own fault." He murmured, moving so that he sat against the tree and pulling her to rest against him, releasing greater amounts of reiatsu as he placed a kiss behind her ear.
Cirucci knew what he was thinking every time his fingers brushed her throat, felt the warmth pulsing through her body. And she had promised he would be the one to be able to end it, once she had made the decision. But not yet. “I learn not to toy with my prey, it seems.” Her body was relaxing, no longer tensed with pain, nestling against him, eyes fluttering between half open and shut, one hand focusing her reiatsu at the cut on her chest, the other reaching behind her to toy with a lock of long blonde hair, so stark a contrast against her own thick black that had long since fallen from it’s style to curl about her shoulders. “Does Il Forte learn anything?”
He ignored the question at first, moving his thumb back and forth against her skin as though trying to memorize the warmth, the texture. The quiet was good, the volume of speaking ideal, and he wondered if there was not a way to keep her in a perpetual state of injury. "I learn things I would rather not." He admitted quietly, in a tone that indicated he would not elaborate further. He put his arms around her and rested his cheek against her shoulder, not caring if the position was uncomfortable for her as she was. He felt tired, the ticking had put him on edge and he hadn't slept, so letting his eyes slip shut now was all too easy.
It was uncomfortable. She shifted slightly, wincing as his weight rested against her cut back, but she would be a liar if she said she didn’t take some pleasure from pain on occasion. And Il Forte was in a good mood, it seemed, something rare for her to take part in. Cirucci caught the tone and did not press, though she was sure she would want to later, was deathly curious. Her hand left her chest to curl over his own, staining his skin with her blood. “Going to sleep on me, Il Forte?” She cooed softly, a sigh escaping bloodied lips as she spoke. They’d had what could be called a lover’s quarrel the day before which had left the both frustrated it seemed, having become somewhat… accustomed, to the others prescence… being able to rely on that to assuage the ticking in their heads.
Eyes opening again slowly at the sound of her voice, he thought for a moment before sitting back up. "Let's go back." He said, not giving her time to respond as he made his way to his feet, pulling her up along with him and letting her lean against him for support. "You can finish healing at the apartment."
A slight twinge at being pulled to her feet, but she showed nothing else. The Privaron held loosely to his arm, not wanting to aggravate by leaning too heavily. “Very well, dear.” But the nickname had lost most of its bitter sarcasm, her legs shaking slightly as she matched his pace. “Home it is.” And it was sort of home, considering Il Forte couldn’t leave, and she had no desire. But… as they made their way a though occurred to Cirucci that made her smirk a bit. Her favorite liked when she was silent, but should her powers not be restored by the morrow… Il Forte would not be met by this quiet bed partner. Oh. And she needed to kill that girl sometime, to hurt that human boy... And that thought was what was on her mind as she straightened and turned her head to place a kiss on the other Arrancar’s cheek that left the faintest imprint in blood.
… That would be delightful.