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zaynnaz · 8 months

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Title: Sands of Masks and Flames

Snippet: Chapter 9.

The world shifted again, and the depths of Tatsuki's being churned, a maelstrom of energy awakening. She could feel the raw power swirling within her, tearing through her cells, each strand of her DNA being thrumming with latent potential. Like a demon emerging from its ancient slumber, a great gust of wind erupted around her, the very air bending and pulsing to the rhythm of her newfound might. 

The hollow, its eyes betraying a hint of trepidation, scowled. “The little girl has a bite, huh? Even with spiritual energy, you can't defeat me!” It roared defiantly, coiling its grotesque limbs for a decisive strike.

 But that malevolent voice was not done. "Focus on destruction," it seethed, its words like white-hot brands searing Tatsuki's soul. "Cull the weak, absorb their feeble essence, and grow strong. Never let yourself be defeated again. Rise, and FIGHT!" 

A primal roar welled up in her throat, her very essence altered, charged with an unparalleled fervor. Her eyes, now burning with an ethereal light, met the hollow's. The wind that enveloped them became a tempest, its force pushing the monster back, each gust echoing with Tatsuki's newfound authority. The voice grew darker and more potent “Dawn your mantle, bring forth your fury, and strike FEAR into your enemies and shout with your essence to the heavens!” 

And then, that voice, that infernal guide, whispered the words she needed to seal her fate. Tatsuki, now a vessel of unbridled power, raised her head, defiance etched into her features. With a voice that was now a harmonious blend of her own and the demonic undertones of her benefactor, she boomed, “You messed with the wrong person. And it will be your last." Taking a deep breath, her very essence vibrating with energy, she shouted, "Kyūsui Kūmaku!” 

A radiance, stark and blinding, emanated from her being, casting long, distorted shadows that danced madly in the backdrop. The hollow, despite its massive form, was forced to shield its eyes, the very force of Tatsuki's transformation rendering it momentarily powerless. The battlefield had shifted, and the balance of power was now unmistakably in Tatsuki's favor.

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Want to read the whole story? Find out exactly what happened on Ao3 or Fanfiction net!

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zaynnaz · 8 months

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Bleach One-shot fanfiction.

Title: Rukia the Visored: Hollow Resonance

Rukia Kuchiki sat alone, her back pressed against the jagged wall of her cell in Hueco Mundo. The enclosure felt less like a room and more like the innards of some great, malevolent beast. Its walls had the texture and hue of aged bone, as if calcified over centuries of neglect and malice. The air was stale, redolent with the putrid odor of decay, each breath she took tinged with the taste of something foul.

“I can’t believe Captain Aizen is a traitor. If I remain here much longer, all could be lost," she thought, her eyes narrowed in quiet darkness.

Her eyes squinted as she tried to see beyond the shadowy darkness, but it was a futile endeavor. It was as if the air itself had swallowed all light, leaving only an oppressive void in its place. She clenched her fists, the raw energy of the Hogyoku deep within her a pulsing reminder of her imprisonment. Aizen had taken her for this cursed gemstone, embedded irrevocably into her soul, yet his experiments had failed to extract it.

Her thoughts were shattered by a sound—an echoing roar that seemed to resonate from the bowels of Hueco Mundo. It sounded both distant and uncomfortably close, as if the very walls were channeling it toward her. Her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes darted around, widening when they focused on the creature that had just materialized through the bars of her cell.

It was a Hollow, yet incomplete. Its facial features were twisted in a grotesque mockery of human and Hollow traits, its signature mask missing. Its eyes, however, were not filled with the mindless rage typical of its kin. Instead, they regarded her with what could only be described as curiosity.

"Who—or what—are you?" Rukia questioned cautiously.

"Is this one of Aizen's failed experiments?" she wondered, gripping her makeshift shiv—a shard of bone she’d managed to pry loose from the wall. But before she could make any defensive moves, the Hollow lunged.

As it made contact with her, Rukia felt a maelstrom of reiatsu engulf her. The sensation was electric, her skin tingling as if struck by lightning. She screamed, not just from the sensation but from the soul-deep agony that came with it. It was as if the creature was trying to fuse with her very essence, to burrow into the core of her being.

Rukia screamed, "What is happening to me?!"

For a heart-stopping moment, Rukia felt her control slip away. A white, skeletal mask began to form over her face, its touch cold and foreign against her skin. She could hear the Hollow's guttural laughter intertwining with her own thoughts, a corrosive symphony that sought to shatter her will.

"Hold on, Rukia. Hold on!" she mentally commanded herself.

But then something remarkable happened—the fusion, instead of consuming her, stabilized. Her scream reached a crescendo and her spiritual pressure surged, a torrent of raw energy that expelled outward like a shockwave. The white mask cracked, then shattered into a spray of ethereal fragments, vanishing before they touched the ground.

Rukia staggered back, gasping for air as she felt her spiritual pressure stabilize. "I don't know what you were, but it looks like you've become a part of me now."

Rukia slumped to her knees, the hollow was gone, its essence now a part of her, contained by the resilience of her soul. But she knew something fundamental within her had changed, something that could alter the very fabric of the war to come.

In the quiet that followed, tinged only by the distant echoes of Hueco Mundo, Rukia allowed herself a moment of vulnerability. She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling the rapid thumping of her heart, and closed her eyes.

She was different now—changed in a way she didn't yet understand. And although she was still confined within these walls, Rukia Kuchiki felt an ember of newfound hope flicker to life within her.

That hope, tinged with the icy cool of her newfound power, would soon be tested in battles she could scarcely imagine. But for now, it was enough. And as the darkness of her cell seemed to lighten just a fraction, Rukia knew she was ready for whatever came next.

The oppressive atmosphere of Hueco Mundo seemed to weigh heavier with each step as Ichigo, Renji, and the others advanced through its labyrinthine corridors. The air was thick with tension, their senses heightened by the adrenaline of their mission—to rescue Rukia Kuchiki.

When they finally arrived at her cell, a sensation of both relief and urgency flooded them. There she was, standing by the bars, seemingly unharmed but visibly different, as though carrying a secret weight.

Just as Renji reached to unlock the cell with his Zanpakuto, an ominous spiritual pressure filled the space, growing thicker with each passing second. Materializing from the shadows with a disdainful smirk, an Arrancar appeared. His blade was already drawn, its gleaming surface reflecting the eerie light of Hueco Mundo.

"Rukia, step back!" Renji bellowed, releasing his Zanpakuto. "Roar Zabimaru!"

But before the chains of Zabimaru could lunge, Rukia’s eyes flashed—a piercing cobalt that cut through the darkness. Her spiritual pressure erupted like a geyser, filling the air with a chilling, electrifying energy. A collective gasp spread through the group as a Hollow mask began to form over half of her face, its visage a ghastly blend of skeletal grimace and icy design.

Gone was the frail prisoner they had come to rescue. Standing before them was a warrior changed, her reiatsu now a chaotic vortex that fused Soul Reaper and Hollow essences.

With a swiftness that defied her previous limitations, Rukia lunged at the Arrancar. Her Zanpakuto, Sode no Shirayuki, glowed an ethereal blue with black undertones, its blade now enveloped in a dark, icy mist. The Espada met her strike with a clash of steel that reverberated through the room, a cacophony of spiritual energies colliding in mid-air.

In an instant, the atmosphere itself seemed to turn against the Arrancar. The chamber filled with a sudden, biting cold, as Rukia whispered, "Dance, Sode no Shirayuki." A blizzard erupted from her blade, but this was no ordinary storm. It was a tempest infused with Hollow spiritual pressure—a dark, swirling whirlwind that choked the air from the room and dimmed the light to near-total darkness.

The Arrancar struggled, his form becoming a silhouette within the storm, his movements increasingly sluggish. Then, with a final, piercing cry, Rukia thrust her Zanpakuto forward. A jagged spike of black ice, coated in a layer of dark spiritual energy, materialized and shot towards the Espada, impaling him. He was frozen in place, a grim statue in a sea of swirling darkness.

As quickly as it had formed, the mask on Rukia’s face shattered, its pieces dissolving into ethereal motes that vanished into the air. Her spiritual pressure dropped dramatically, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. She staggered back, her body a tangle of exhaustion and relief, and collapsed into Renji's arms, who had rushed forward to catch her.

Ichigo looked at Rukia, his eyes wide with both astonishment and a newfound respect. For the first time, he fully realized they were all evolving in this never-ending war, crossing lines and breaking barriers to face the unknown.

"Rukia... What the hell happened?" Ichigo muttered, his voice tinged with utter shock

Drained but alive, Rukia looked up at her friends, her eyes conveying a complex mixture of gratitude and warning. They had won this battle, but the war was far from over. Yet, one thing was clear—Rukia Kuchiki was no longer just a Soul Reaper. She was something more, something transcendent of Soul Reapers, and fearsome.

And as they prepared to leave, that realization filled them with both dread and wonder for the inevitable battles that lay ahead.

Rukia knew that her newfound abilities were a double-edged sword, filled with immense power but also perilous instability. Intent on gaining control, she found herself transported to the World of the Living, her feet touching down on familiar soil, yet feeling like a stranger in her own life. With each step toward the secret hideout of the Vizards, her mind oscillated between anticipation and apprehension.

"Didn't expect a Kuchiki to show up here," Shinji said, breaking the ice.

"I need your help," Rukia said. "Are you Shinji?"

The atmosphere was heavy when she entered their lair, the room charged with a mix of suspicion and guarded interest. Though the Vizards were used to shades of gray in their own powers, Rukia had told them how she was first afflicted by the hollowfication and how it came to be. Her unique form of Hollowfication intrigued them.

“That bastard must have perfected that crazy ass experiment of his.” Shinji commented, insulting a man he loathed.

“Can you please teach me how to control the hollow power within me? Ichigo told me you would be able to help me.” After a tense discourse marked by veiled questions and carefully chosen words, Shinji, the Vizard leader, nodded.

"We've never seen a case quite like yours, Kuchiki," he said, breaking the silence. "You got our attention. We'll train you."

Rukia's training was nothing short of grueling. Each day was a kaleidoscope of sweat, determination, and spiritual energy, all blurring together in a never-ending cycle of trial and failure. Their underground training ground became her world, a cavernous space that echoed with the sound of clashing Zanpakuto and the reverberating cries of hollowfied Soul Reapers. It was a symphony of chaos, the perfect setting for her to tame the tempest within her.

Donning her Hollow mask during training exercises, Rukia felt the immediate shift in her abilities. Her movements became swifter, each slice of her Zanpakuto leaving a trail of black icy mist in the air. The cold no longer came just from her blade, but from within her, a seamless blend of her own spiritual energy and the frigid powers offered by her Hollow self.

Shinji watched her intently, his eyes narrowing as he observed her rapid progress. Even among the Vizards, few had shown such a natural affinity for harnessing their dual nature. It wasn't just her skill; it was her unwavering focus, her complete dedication to mastering this chaotic fusion of Soul Reaper and Hollow.

"You're getting the hang of it, Rukia," Shinji finally said one day, sheathing his Zanpakuto. "I gotta say, you’re surprising us all."

His words washed over her, a bittersweet blend of accomplishment and ever-looming challenges. Yet, they fueled her, made her feel an inch closer to the elusive mastery she sought.

Rukia knew this was just the beginning. Understanding her powers was an ongoing journey, one fraught with pitfalls and revelations. But as she looked at her reflection in the steel of her Zanpakuto, her Hollow mask materializing and dematerializing as if in sync with her thoughts, she realized something vital—she was not afraid of what she had become. She was ready to wield it, to integrate this newfound duality into the core of who she was.

And in that moment, surrounded by those who had walked this tumultuous path before her, Rukia felt a sense of belonging, an unexpected camaraderie that transcended her former identity. She was not just a Soul Reaper or a Visored; she was Rukia Kuchiki, a warrior evolving beyond labels and limitations.

As she sheathed Sode no Shirayuki, the black icy mist from its blade swirling around her, Rukia knew she was one step closer to understanding the intricate tapestry of her own soul. And that realization imbued her with both humility and a fierce resolve, as she prepared to face whatever lay ahead, masked or unmasked.

As she ended her training for the day, Rukia reflected on her journey. "I know this is just the beginning," she said, almost to herself. "But thank you, Shinji. Thank you all."

"Don’t mention it," Shinji grinned. "We're all walking this tightrope between two worlds. We Visoreds got to have each others backs." Rukia nodded, her eyes set on the path ahead.

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Do you want to read more of my work? I post One-shots on my blog and I post ongoing fanfictions on Ao3 and Fanfiction net.

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zaynnaz · 8 months

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Forever one of the best.

HAPPY 22ND BLEACH ANNIVERSARY!!

2001年8月7日〜2016年8月22日

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zaynnaz · 8 months

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😭

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zaynnaz · 8 months

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Bleach One-Shot Fanfiction:

Title: Ulquiorra’s Second Chance

Ulquiorra opened his eyes to the blinding rays of the sun and realized he was lying in an open field. Confused, he sat up, scanning the surroundings. No Las Noches. No Hueco Mundo. No battle. Just an unfamiliar human world.

"As I thought, this isn't the oblivion I was expecting," he muttered to himself.

He felt human—vulnerable, fragile, and stripped of his Arrancar powers. Yet, his memories were intact. His last moments played vividly in his mind: Ichigo's fierce eyes, the incredible surge of power, and then—nothingness.

He looked into a small puddle to see his reflection. He touched his face, no longer holding a fraction of his mask. Emerald green eyes stared back at him, with healthy human-like skin, within the body of a teenager.

As he wandered aimlessly through the town, memories of his previous life bombarded him. With no one to fight or orders to follow, Ulquiorra began to feel something he had never felt before—emptiness, but of a different kind. A lack of purpose.

He found himself in front of a small orphanage. Drawn by a force he couldn't explain, he entered and was almost immediately taken in by the caretakers, who were all too eager to welcome a seemingly lost teenager.

Weeks turned into months, and Ulquiorra adopted the name "Ulric" to blend in. Life at the orphanage was mundane, repetitive, and filled with human emotions he couldn't comprehend. He watched as children cried for love, attention and adults worked tirelessly for the sake of others or themselves, to buy things and do it all over again. It puzzled him.

One day, a local gang started causing trouble near the orphanage. Though Ulquiorra had no specific fondness for the place, the threat angered him. He realized that he could no longer remain indifferent.

That night, he confronted the gang. Even without his former powers, his combat skills were enough to subdue them. As he looked into the eyes of the gang leader, he felt a sense of justice, something foreign yet strangely satisfying. For the first time, Ulquiorra felt like he had made a choice not dictated by anyone else—a choice to protect.

News of his heroics spread, and the atmosphere in the orphanage changed. The children looked up to him; the adults respected him. Ulquiorra began to experience new emotions: trust, companionship, and even the beginnings of happiness.

As he looked in the mirror one evening, he noticed a small, almost imperceptible glimmer in his once empty eyes. He realized that the true battle had just begun—the fight for redemption and the pursuit of his newfound humanity.

In the depths of his soul, he thanked Ichigo for granting him this second chance. It was the closest thing to gratitude that Ulquiorra Cifer, former Espada, had ever felt.

And in that moment, he felt something even more foreign, yet profoundly beautiful—a glimmer of hope.

After a few more months at the orphanage, Ulquiorra received an unexpected offer to attend Karakura High School. He had read about it in some papers, apparently it’s the best high school in the area. often appeared in articles about the town's “best students” Intrigued and sensing an opportunity for a new experience, Ulquiorra—now known as Ulric—accepted the offer.

He couldn't shake off a weird feeling as he stepped through the gates of Karakura High. Ulquiorra was used to reading people, he always felt weird not being able to analyze their spiritual energy to discern their intentions, but now, stripped of his powers, he relied on human intuition. It led him to a classroom where he took a seat, waiting for the teacher to arrive.

Just then, the door swung open, and a familiar figure walked in, unruly orange hair and all.

"Ichigo Kurosaki," Ulquiorra thought, a flicker of recognition—and something inexplicably deeper—passing through him.

As Ichigo looked at Ulric, he felt an odd sense of déjà vu. "Have we met before?" he asked during lunch, his eyes narrowing.

"Perhaps in another life," Ulquiorra responded, cryptically.

Then it hit him. He hadn't just reincarnated. Somehow, he was also back in time, sharing a classroom with the very Soul Reaper who had ended his previous life. The implications were staggering, but also thrilling. Was this a chance for redemption or an opportunity to change the course of history?

During their time at school, Ulquiorra observed Ichigo's interactions, his friendships, and his barely concealed sense of responsibility for protecting others. The more he watched, the more he began to understand the emotions that had driven his former enemy: loyalty, compassion, love—emotions he himself was now beginning to experience.

However, with his memories of the future intact, Ulquiorra also knew of the threats that lay ahead: Aizen, the Espada, the invasion of Hueco Mundo, and the battles that would ensue. The question then became: Should he intervene, or should he stay on this new path of redemption?

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Want to read more of my works? You can find me onn ao3 and fanfiction net by the name of ZaynNaz.

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zaynnaz · 8 months

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Title - Sands of Masks and Flames

Summary - In Hueco Mundo’s desolate sands, Karin Kurosaki awakens as a hollow. Her strength, rare for her size, makes her both target and asset in a power struggle with her unique abilities. As factions vie for dominance, Karin confronts her new identity, tangled allegiances, and a destiny intertwined with a throne she never sought.

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 17k+

Warning: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death.

Where Can You Read: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13272786/1/Sands-of-Masks-and-Flames & https://archiveofourown.org/works/49651099/chapters/125318689

Chapter 1: Insatiable Disparity

Time stretched on, unending. Screams and cries were the melodies that filled the very air she breathed. Yet in the depths of this chaos, memories – fragmented and fleeting – clawed at her mind. An existence before this nightmare. A faint impression of who she used to be, but it was almost as if she were trying to grasp water in her hands. Slippery, elusive.

She clung onto one certainty: a name, or the beginning of it. 'K'.

This singular thread connected her to a past, a proof that she wasn’t always this... monster. Each time she devoured, each soul she consumed, fragments of understanding came flooding back, mingling with the insatiable hunger that dominated her existence.

The more she fed, the sharper her thoughts became. Every hollow she consumed increased her strength and her wit. Initially, she had been content preying on the ones her size. But monotony took over. The thrill of the hunt faded when her prey became predictable. Larger hollows posed a greater challenge, one she eagerly accepted.

Need food… Food, the thoughts of the creature repeated in its mind.

Drawn by a powerful spiritual energy, Karin found herself at the edge of the Menos forest, a place rife with towering Gillians. The very thought of consuming such a being sent shivers of anticipation down her spine. However, caution also wrapped its cold fingers around her heart. She wasn’t foolish enough to dive headfirst into unknown dangers. Observing before attacking, that was her strategy. 

As if the forest itself sensed her hesitation, a spectacle unfolded before her eyes: three hollows, roughly her size, challenging a Gillian in unison. A collaboration among hollows was unheard of in her experience. Yet, as the Gillian retaliated with its powerful red beam, obliterating one of them effortlessly, the gravity of their situation became clear. 

She watched, heart racing, as the remaining two desperately tried to dodge the beams, their agility impressive but evidently not enough. Just as the situation seemed dire for the final hollow, it managed to take a sizable bite from the Gillian’s mask. The giant let out a world-shaking roar of agony, collapsing under its own weight. 

Seizing her chance, Karin darted from the shadows, drawn to the injured Gillian. The smaller hollow, intoxicated with its victory, failed to sense her approach. As she neared, every instinct screamed at her to strike, to claim her prize and ascend in power.

Karin was swift, she decapitated the hollow with a swipe of her clawed hollow hands. She quickly consumed its mask and turned to the giant that had fallen. At this moment she was feeling an exuberance of pride in her swift assault that caused her little trouble. 

The eerie silence that descended upon the Menos forest following her swift victory was a testament to Karin’s emerging prowess.Consuming the Gillian, she had tasted not just raw power but fleeting moments of a past long buried in the depths of her consciousness. 

Huh, she thought suddenly, then a moment of clarity for the first time in what seems like an eternity. 

As the name "Karin" echoed in the hollow recesses of her mind, it acted like a beacon, illuminating patches of memories. In those fleeting moments, shadows of emotions - pain, love, fear - all flitted across her psyche. It was a feeling of nostalgic yearning, an anchor in the tempestuous sea of her current existence.

Who… Who were they?, Karin struggled against her blurred memories in desperation to know more.

Suddenly, a crimson glow materialized. As the crimson glow intensified, bathing the Hueco Mundo in its eerie light, Karin felt its menacing warmth on the back of her neck. The very ground seemed to hum with the vibrations of the charged energy, and the arid air grew even more stifling. Every particle, every molecule resonated with the imminent danger of the Cero beam. But within Karin, a storm of emotions raged, providing her with clarity rather than chaos.

Not this time, she thought fiercely, her determination burning brighter than the impending doom.

The sand beneath her feet shifted slightly, reacting to the potent spiritual energy. It whispered tales of countless battles that had come before, of the countless souls who had met their end in this very realm. But the whisperings also held a challenge, urging her to not become just another footnote in the Hueco Mundo's battleground.

She could feel the rapid beat of her heart echoing within her, each thud a stark reminder of her humanity amidst the monster she had become. It was this duality that gave her strength. Her feet barely touched the ground as she twisted her body, evading the Cero with an agility that seemed graceful. Her hollow form glided effortlessly over the dunes, with movements reminiscent of a hauntingly beautiful dance.

As she moved, the very atmosphere seemed to respond to her. The shadows lengthened and coiled around her, becoming an extension of her form, shielding her and amplifying her evasive maneuvers. Her senses sharpened; she could almost taste the metallic tang of the charged energy in the air, feel the weight of the history-laden sand grains, and hear the soft, desperate whispers of lost souls carried by the wind.

She felt the moment approaching, that split second where the balance of power could shift. Gathering all her strength, she launched herself at the Gillian. The world around her blurred, reducing to mere streaks of color. Every fiber of her being screamed with the exertion, yet her mind remained clear and focused.

With a piercing battle cry that was equal parts rage, hope, and determination, she struck. The force of her attack sent shockwaves through the Hueco Mundo forest, as the monster was taken down with an unexpected ferocity.

As the dust settled, Karin stood victorious, breathing heavily. The aftermath of the battle was a testament to her prowess. The world around her seemed to pause, as if paying silent respect to her strength and will.

The act of consuming her foes not only strengthened her but connected her with fragments of her lost self. It became a compulsion - a thirst not just for power, but for identity.

Days turned into nights and nights into days as Karin hunted relentlessly in the Menos forest. Each Gillian she consumed brought her closer to unlocking the mysteries of her past. But with each memory that surfaced, a new emotion brewed within her: a cocktail of anger, sadness, and determination. These feelings, foreign yet familiar, drove her onwards.

I will remember. I will know who they were. Who I was, she thought to herself with sustained determination and defiance to her hollow’s all-consuming existence with growing intelligence.

In the world of Hueco Mundo, where the strongest survived and the weak were consumed, Karin was quickly climbing the ranks of her power, her witt growing further in combat. However, the journey wasn’t just about power anymore. It was a quest for self-realization, a desperate search for the girl named "Karin" who once existed in a world far removed from this dark abyss.

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