#evolutionaryfear asks

Put “Murderer!” In my ask box and a I’ll write a drabble about my character killing yours.

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez. The King. Or so he claimed to be.

Those who went against their Lord — against their orders and the very essence of who ruled them — were of no use to Aizen Sousuke. Those who failed were considered in the very same category. The God had bestowed unto them a power that they were unable to comprehend as mere Hollows and in return he had asked for little more than their loyalty. It was to be unquestioned and unwavering; they were to do exactly as he ordered the moment that he ordered it.

And to think that the former Sexta Espada had failed to complete his orders. Each of the Ten Blades had been told to protect Las Noches, to ensure that Kurosaki Ichigo would fail in his endeavors to rescue his dear friend.

Aizen would start again and there was no use for those who had fallen to be among his prized collection of warriors. None of them would have the honor any longer, especially this one.

He was smiling when he approached the panther, pressure on the atmosphere growing and growing with each step that he took closer. It was a tremendous force that made it hard to catch one’s breath or remain standing, but only a small fraction of what he was truly capable of. Just as he had intended, Grimmjow was forced lower despite all of his pathetic attempts to remain standing, down to his knees where the muscles in his shoulders and neck strained to keep his head upright if only to stare harshly at the approaching God.

Perhaps he was aware of why Aizen was treating his once praised tool as such, perhaps not. Either way, he would be educated.

"Grimmjow," Aizen spoke smoothly, "I am disappointed in you… Not only do you fail me, but you find it necessary to create a relationship with the Ryoka Boy? I had thought you above such pointless things, Grimmjow… Truly, you have fallen from that imaginary throne you had thought yourself on into the ranks of insects.”

The God-King’s hand rose to light wrap delicate fingers around the hilt of his Zanpakuto, slipping Kyouka Suigetsu from its confinement at his hip. “I believe you’re in need of a reminder as to who exactly it is you serve.” He would not allow a move to be made to reach for Pantera as the very tip of Aizen’s own blade was placed directly between the fallen Espada’s eyes.

“Seeping crest of turbidity. Arrogant vessel of lunacy. Boil forth and deny. Grow numb and flicker. Disrupt sleep. Crawling queen of iron. Eternally self-destructing doll of mud. Unite. Repulse. Fill with soil and know your own powerlessness.

          Hadō No. 90. Kurohitsugi.”

The incantation was spoken swiftly and purposefully, perfect and without a single misstep. Black and purple energy condensed at the tip of Kyouka Suigetsu for Grimmjow to witness personally how the last moments of his life would play out. It expanded without warning, forming the formidable Black Coffin around the Arrancar before spears of the same material pierced the enclosure.

His sword was put away before the Hadō spell ended, hands placed back into his pockets as the Lord turned away to leave the battered corpse of Grimmjow Jeagerjaquez for the starving Hollows of Hueco Mundo.

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