There's a faint smile that fades onto lips at his response , hand on chest slowly lowering with a soft breath of laughter as gaze departs from his & looks upon the summer blooms that surround them . Surely she felt love even with a heart that no longer beats , surely there was care that was put into learning what she could of another person & adoring their passions , the way that vigor overtook in the face of that which they loved . Even now , as Grimmjow speaks on his worldview , as he dismisses the need for such an emotion , there's something that finds itself within her that endears her to him regardless of it , eliciting a short hum of consideration when he presents his own query to her .

he   believed   that.   he   always   had.

anger   was   simple.   hunger   was   simpler.   hatred   endured   because   it   fed   itself.   those   emotions   made   sense.   they   had   weight.   teeth.   they   filled   the   endless   cavity   inside   him   just   enough   to   keep   it   from   swallowing   him   whole.   everything   else    . . .   his   brows   knit   ever   so   slightly.

" . . . sometimes. "

the   admission   came   quietly,   as   though   the   word   itself   was   unfamiliar   on   his   tongue.   "   there   are   moments. "   his   gaze   wandered   briefly   to   the   sea   of   wildflowers   surrounding   them   from even beyond her home before   returning   to   ebony.    "   a   smell.   a   place.   someone   lookin'   at   me   a   certain   way. "   he mimicked an   exhale   through   his   nose, the sound vacant.   "   it   feels   like   something's   movin'   at   the   bottom   of   a   dried up   ocean   but   i   never   catch   it.   by   the   time   i   think   i've   got   hold   of   it . . . "    he   flexed   his   hand   once,   slowly   closing   it   into   a   fist.    " . . . it's  fuckin'  gone. "

the   silence   that   followed   was   strangely   comfortable.   then   his   eyes   settled   on   her   again.   " but   there   are   people, "   he   spoke   carefully   now,   each   word   weighed   before   it   left   him.   " people   that   make   the   hunger   a little bit quieter. "

love   seemed   too   human.   affection   too   gentle.   need   too   selfish.   whatever   resides   in   the   hollowed   out   space   where   his   heart   had   once   beaten   refused   every   name   he   tried   to   give   it.

thought  shifted  by  his  final  inquiry  —   seemingly  off-hand,  inconsequential  by  another's  standards  perhaps,  but  to  her?  Brows  rose  at  such  a  suggestion,  with  her  smile  stretching  devilishly  at  the  very  idea  of  it.  When  last  had  they  fought?  After  so  long,  never.  When  last  had  his  blood  caught  beneath  her  nails?  No,  never.  Her  flesh  within  his  maw?  How  thrilling!

    “  My  dear  if  it  is  something  memorable  you  are  after,  you  need  only  to  ask.  ”      he  knows.  He  always  knows.  It  was  one  of  the  things  she  so  very  admired  about  him,  sought  him  out.  .  .like  today.  Ah,  and  just  like  that  is  the  true  purpose  of  her  venture  from  the  sanctuary  back  to  the  forefront.     “  But  a  playful  little  romp  amidst  the  gore  must  wait  I'm  afraid,  Grimmjow  my  dear!  I  am  here  for  a  different  kind  of  request,  you  see.  I  have  indeed  found  something  interesting. "      her  voice  falters  into  giggling,  hands  clasped  together  in  pure,  girlish  excitement. 

"  Something  even  I  could  not  kill  despite  my  many,  many  attempts.  Not  for  lack  of  trying,  of  course.  It's  just  that,  when  I  couldn't  kill  it,  you  were  the  first  that  came  to  mind.  "

his   chin   rested   lazily   against   his   fist,   blue   eyes   glimmering   with   unmistakable   interest.   " everyone   else   sees   a   thing   they   can't   explain   and   starts   prayin'   it'll   go   away. "    his   smile   sharpened   into   something   feral by comparison.    " you   tear   it   apart,   stitch   it   back   together,   curse   it,   dissect   it,   then   get   disappointed   when   it   survives. " there   was   genuine   admiration   buried   beneath   the   amusement.

"    you're   all   freaks. " 

𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 ,        held within Vergil's grasp as they wipe her down ,   the steel glistening with the new coat of oil within the fabric held in the Devil's hand .   Unnecessary for a Devil Arm ,   but a ritualistic care that they follow through on a regular basis .   The blade glints as the angle shifts just so slightly to allow Vergil's reflection to show within the mirror of steel ,   that familiar sharpness settling on Grimmjow when he makes the statement ,   singular brow lifting in response .   Silence pervades for a beat too long ,   enough that Grimmjow charges onward with the explanation of what it was that he had in mind .   Burger place —

𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐃 ,        during a time where lives were two ,   when that unfamiliar sense of HUNGER gnawed at stomach  &  demanded satisfaction .   He doesn't recall it being wholly unpleasant ,   though the grease that dropped from fingers afterwards had left them in a state of silent dismay  (  but it had served its purpose of removing those hunger pangs  ) .   Curious ,   that Grimmjow would admit that he wanted to take them out on a—

𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐉𝐎𝐖'𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 ,        flesh gently touching the warm steel as it slips between the pinch of thumb  &  forefinger ,   guiding her into the protective scabbard .   Head turns slightly ,   gaze now finding Grimmjow's ,   that questioning brow now having lowered itself back into something plaintive .   The reminder of their lack of hunger rolls around on the flat of tongue ,   before it's held at the quiet admittance of wanting to experience something other than the usual violence .   To participate in a world that they often strayed from ,   lingering on the outskirts without committing to its every day activities .   Lips part ,   brows furrowing lightly  (  not in annoyance ,   but rather one where they were weighing the options given ) .

                    ❛    You wish to—    ❜                                                      go on a date ?

he stares. not with the usual challenge that burned behind sharp, feline eyes, nor with the easy arrogance that so often curled into the edges of his slowly forming grin. just . . . staring. as though the answer had caught somewhere between his ears, refusing to settle. truth be told grimmjow had expected resistance. a flat refusal. a clipped no. maybe even one of those looks vergil had perfected; the kind that silently questioned every decision grimmjow had ever made. he'd already been preparing the scoff, the roll of his eyes, the dismissive forget i asked that would've let him retreat with at least a shred of pride intact. instead . . . vergil had agreed. an exceedingly rare breath escapes him through his nose. the sound is quieter than usual, lacking its familiar bite as one hand lifts to rub at the back of his neck. the gesture feels foreign on him, uncomfortable, fingers lingering there a second longer than they should before dropping back to his side.

"  thought  you'd  tell  me  to  get  lost  . "   the  words  leave  before  he  has  the  chance  to  bite  them  back.  grimmjow's  eyes  narrow  immediately  afterward,  annoyance  flashing; not  at  vergil,  but  at  himself  for  letting  something  that  honest  slip  free.  he  clicks  his  tongue,  trying  to  bury  it  beneath  the  familiar  confidence  that  slowly  settles  back  over  his  shoulders.  "  ain't  exactly  my  kinda'  thing.  "  he  admits  with  a  shrug.  "  didn't  figure  either  of  us  needed  some  fancy  place.  just  .  .  .   figured  it'd  be  somethin'  different.  "  different  from  trading  blows.  different  from  pretending  that  was  all  there  was  between  them.  his  gaze  drifts  toward  yamato  as  the  blade  disappears  into  her  scabbard,  a  crooked  grin  finally  reclaiming  his  features.  "  no.  "  a  short  chuckle  rumbles  low  in  his  chest.  "  pretty  sure  they'd  all have  a  problem  with  that.  " a  moment  passes  before  he  jerks  his  chin  toward  the  sheathed  sword.  "  guess  you'll  have  to  leave  her  behind  for  one  night  with  pantera. "  there's  enough  amusement  in  his  voice  to  soften  the  jab.  then,   quieter.  almost  like  he's  trying  the  thought  on  for  size.

"  didn't  think  you'd  actually  say  yes.  "

the  confession  hangs  there  for  only  a  heartbeat  before  grimmjow  scoffs  at  himself,  shoving  his  hands  into  his  pockets  as  though  that  somehow  made  him  look  less  affected.  grimmjow  watched  the  frost  in  vergil's  eyes  subtly  shift over time.  not  melt. never  that.  those  eyes  had  never  been  made  for  warmth.  they  were  winterborne,  pale  and  cutting,  the  kind  of  gaze  that  had  sent  demons,  devils  and  men  scrambling  long  before  grimmjow  had  learned  to  relish  standing  directly  beneath  it.  but  something  had  changed  all  the  same.  a  minute  fracture  beneath  the  ice.  a  reluctant  yielding  that  only  existed  because  the  answer  had  been  yes.

"  now  i  don't  gotta'  pretend  i  wasn't  disappointed.   "

Get to know me meme with @hanae-ichihara ♡ Male characters ♡

                                                  But they both knew better than that .

𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐋 ,        yet granted no such boon . Peace granted only in an end . An end of torment ,   an end of self .   Peace  &  solitude is few  &  far in between within the world of despair  &  the fugue states that drive any average man to utter insanity .   The thrum ,   the beat of a world that devours  &  consumes what draws breath ,   that kills or is killed .   That is the world that Grimmjow finds Nelo Angelo in ,   yet stays .   Flickers of consciousness thread through their mind ,   the question as to why it is that they have found each other multiple times .   A coincidence ?   Was it their LORD that allowed these meetings ?

                                                       THE KING IS DEAD.

𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐎 𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃 , 𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐘 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 ,        the glowing cicatrix flashing faintly in the muddied light of the underworld .   His voice breaks through ,   commenting on the state of it all .   Nelo blinks languidly ,   gaze fixating on the man rather than looking through him .   They recognize him ,   words slugging through the haze of mind  &  settling somewhere deep within .   A comfort ,   within a recollection of a dim past where emotions were more present ,   pervading thoughts  &  actions   (  but were not always negative ,   at least not when in the company of —  ) .

𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐄 𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒 ,        the darkness of gaze belying the intent of such a visual cue .   The ghost of the word bubbles up from the depths .   A smile .   It is not one filled to brim with darker intent ,   sucrose promises wrapped in venom as faces hover near with wicked sneers that tore across recognizable faces .   Important faces .   It was to the extent of their understanding ,   yet this one looked nothing like the ones then .   There was something—                               Despondent. The voice murmurs in their mind again ,   a voice like theirs but not .   A voice heavy with something that had been taken from them ,  torn from them by the porcelain talons of the one they had revered .   Brows draw together in consideration ,   of the voice , of the words spoken by the man that continues to stand beside them .   A flash of steel ,   the thundering laughter  &  blood that ribbons down forehead  &  cheek that do little to dim the blinding blue flame in eyes ,   teeth bared in a grin of utter exhilaration .

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇 ,   𝐀 𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐌 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐘𝐄 ,        hand now slowly raising to touch side of their face in silent bemusement as if expecting to feel the warmth of blood dripping down from wound ,   mirroring where they had seen it on the man's face once before .   Where ?   When did that battle happen ?   Corner of lips find themselves weighted ,   &  for a moment ,  it looks like they are carefully studying Grimmjow before mind's image is slowly submerged into the dark waters of memory .   Even so ,   the ripple of confusion still lingers on their face .

now, every time they fought back to back beneath mundus' divine orders, grimmjow found himself watching more than the battlefield. watching for fractures. for hesitation. for the smallest sign that the devil beneath the black armor still knew how to bare their own teeth. he hadn't stopped trying. he wasn't sure he ever would.

" that bastard's got his claws buried deep. " the words carried no fear of retaliation or punishment. only contempt. grimmjow had seen self serving gods' like mundus before. kings who mistook ownership for loyalty. masters who hollowed out anything they couldn't break outright. aizen had worn that same certainty once. grimmjow knew better than to believe either of them were untouchable. he'd learned a long time ago that forcing something to surface only made it retreat further. so instead, he turned away. the heel of his boot scraped against the stone as he stepped toward the edge of the ruined shore, the black waters churning below them like they were hungry for whatever fell into it from above.

" c'mon. " the command was casual, almost careless. he glanced back over his s houlder, blue eyes catching the murky light with a familiar spark of challenge. grimmjow raised a hand, curling two fingers in a slow beckoning motion toward himself. " unless you're plannin' on standin' here all day listening to the castle rot in this realm all alone. " a faint grin tugged at his mouth. " your boss gave us another target. " the words left his lips with no reverence behind it. just acknowledgement. a job. nothing more. he started walking, the tattered edges of his white jacket shifting behind him as his reiatsu stirred the demonic air around him. " y'know how this goes. "

" we find em'. we break through whatever the hell gets in our way. we finish the mission, simple. " but grimmjow's expression said he knew better. nothing about this was simple. not the false gods they served. not the chains around nelo's mind. not the fact that every step deeper into mundus' territory felt less like following orders and more like walking toward a future grimmjow had already decided he wanted to tear apart . still, he kept moving. listening for nelo to follow suit.