mistkitt: (Default)
 Originally posted 9.3.2015

It’s Orihime’s birthday, and what do you know, my brain spawned a drabble. Tell Yourself style, somewhere between chapters 41 and 43.


The weather was beginning to change. Mornings were overcast. The dragonflies, for the most part, had moved on from Karakura Town. Through her open window Orihime felt the subtle coolness of a passing breeze before it died away, leaving the afternoon’s summer heat to fill the void. She stretched her arms above her head and laid her head on her desk, wondering why there was homework to do. Why couldn’t she be outside, enjoying what was left of the hot sun? Why wasn’t she at a festival, watching fireworks and eating everything within reach?

Orihime stared at her desktop calendar, her eye catching the third of September, circled and decorated in pink ink flowers. Things had quieted down since her birthday the other week. Although she couldn’t help the feeling Ulquiorra had done something to make Soul Society angry, she’d received no official complaints–which suited her just fine. They’d had a nice weekend, the two of them. She’d even had the pleasure of seeing him smile. 

Her lips curled up at the memory of it, her eyes falling shut as she allowed the sun to warm her outstretched arms, her mechanical pencil slipping from her fingers. A new breeze stirred the leaves of her notebook and she inhaled deeply, cherishing the sweet summer smell. Taro-san’s wind chime tinkled one balcony over, almost masking the faint music permeating Orihime’s bedroom wall.


She sat up reluctantly, horrified at how close she’d come to falling asleep. Leaving the window’s temptation behind, she stood from her desk and wandered out into the hall, the music growing louder with every step. “Ulquiorra-kun?”

Footsteps. His bedroom door opened a moment later, and Orihime almost smiled at the look on his face. It was that dazed, half-awake stare he got when she pulled him out of a book. He had his thumb stuck in a thin novel, which he held at his side to show her she had his undivided attention.

The music was coming from inside his room.

“Are you listening to the radio?” she asked.

Ulquiorra’s perpetual frown deepened. “Is it disturbing you?”

“No. No! Not at all. I was just wondering.” Orihime leaned against the door frame, trying to appear casual. He was listening to music. He never listened to music, with the exception of his music phase, and that had been strictly scientific. It didn’t interest him, it was too personal, he couldn’t relate to it, it was too…


Orihime blinked. Of course. Ulquiorra was human. Wasn’t she the first person saying it to anyone who doubted? Hadn’t she heard and felt his heart beating under his skin multiple times? Why, then, had the word caught her so off guard? 

Was it possible she’d still been thinking of him as the man with the hole in his chest this entire time?


“Umm.” She faltered, feeling for some reason like the Earth had shifted on its axis. “Would it be all right if I joined you? I’m a little sleepy, and I can’t afford to take a nap right now, so… ah, but I won’t disturb you, I promise! If you could just give me a little nudge or something when my head starts drooping…”

Ulquiorra sighed. “You do not need to ask my permission to enter the rooms of your own apartment.”

This argument again. Orihime planted her hands on her hips. “It’s your room! You’re paying bills.” But Ulquiorra had already disappeared within, leaving the door open in a silent invitation. Orihime ignored the fluttering in her chest and went to grab her textbooks, pausing only to close her bedroom window before she dashed away again, towards the music. 

Towards him.

mistkitt: (Default)
*To Be Updated at a Later Date!*

Year 0: (Orihime is 16)

- Winter War ends
- Immediately after, Orihime undergoes psychological evaluation. Unohana delivers the report to the shinigami captains.

Year 1: (Orihime turns 17)

- January thru June: Life returns to normal. Assuming that Ichigo loses his power in this universe as well, no one’s stupid enough to think he’s fine, and his powers are returned to him shortly after (Feb or March). He and Rukia get swept up in the emotion of it all and become a thing (April).
- Early July: Ulquiorra revives in Las Noches in his newly humanish form. He goes to the living world and finds Orihime.
- Mid July: Ulquiorra and Orihime are tried by Central 46
- August thru November: Ulquiorra gets his human emotions under control and resumes his stoic nature.
- December: Orihime misses out on the holidays to stay home with Ulquiorra, who refuses to go anywhere with her friends.

Year 2: (Orihime turns 18)

- January and February: Ulquiorra’s human education continues
- March: The main storyline of the fic begins
- April: Ulquiorra starts working with Urahara
- May: Ulquiorra realizes that he’s developed feelings for Orihime
- June thru July: Summer vacation, Orihime finally admits that she isn’t in love with Ichigo anymore
- August thru Early September: School and responsibilities resume
- September: Orihime becomes aware of her feelings for Ulquiorra
- October thru December: Things become increasingly awkward
- Mid December: First kiss
- Christmas Eve: Ulquiorra and Orihime become a thing

Year 3:

- January thru March: Ulquiorra’s ongoing human identity crisis, Orihime graduates high school.
- April: College prep
- May thru December: …

Year 4:

- January thru December: …

Year 5:

- January thru June: …
- July: Story ends.

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally posted 4/24/2015

 The HAPPY’S BACK. *delirious* Tell Yourself! Boom!


Mornings were a tangle of sheets and trying to figure out whose limbs belonged to who, followed by mild-mannered complaints like, “Stop it, I’m going to be late for class!” or, “I have work to do, you know.” Generally such complaints were accompanied by giggles, whines, growls, and another five minutes of unproductive activity before either of them made it out of bed.

And whoever left first was bound to feel a pair of watchful eyes on their bum.


After she’d told him she loved him, he began to notice just how much she’d changed in his absence. It was kind of hard not to notice when she did things like sit on his legs - a respectful distance from dangerous areas - and kiss him without preamble. There was never any objection to this on his part. He found it fascinating in an almost scientific way.

How she’d take charge, be the first to deepen the kiss, and the last to pull away. How she’d comb his hair back with her fingers and kiss his forehead, his eyelids, the corners of his mouth. And the way she looked at him - if looks could kill his heart would have given out under the weight of her gaze - left little to the imagination.

She loved him, and she wouldn’t have him doubting it. Not for one second.


When he went away for three weeks on business, she waved him off with a wide smile and he thought, it was only three weeks. They’d been separated longer than that before.

When he stepped through the door three weeks later, he wasn’t sure who grabbed the other first. They tripped over furniture, clothes, their own two feet. He’d never heard such sounds from her before, never thought that she could want him half as bad as he wanted her.

“I couldn’t sleep without you,” she later confessed, in such an innocent whisper that he had no choice but to make love to her again.


One morning, when there was neither work nor school to drive them out of bed, he noticed her daydreaming expression and asked her what was on her mind. “Marriage,” she said almost coyly, and his stomach flipped over. “My family would want me to have a traditional wedding, but I think I want mine Western style.”

“Is that so,” he murmured, kissing the back of her neck.

She snuggled closer to him. “A trumpet style dress, strapless, with a big veil! But, it should be a small ceremony. Close friends, and maybe some classmates, and the Gotei 13, and a few Arrancar…” She paused. “And no reception.”

“No reception?”

“You don’t like parties, so…”

“Oh, am I the one you’re marrying?” he asked airily.

She pursed her lips, unable to decide if things had been better before he’d developed a sense of humor. “No. My true love, Don Kanonji.” She had the satisfaction of feeling his body stiffen. “I’ll be Kanonji Orihime, and our baby’s first words will be bohahaha!” His arms tightened around her. There was an unhappy spike in his reiatsu that made her smile. “Don’t make jokes if you’re not going to play along, Ulquiorra-kun.”

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally posted 4/23/2015

 This is the last Grimmjow related thing I’m going to do before I clean my room. I promise. Tell Yourself, featuring Grimmjow, so if you know me you know what ship this is going to be.


There had been no customers at the shop for the last hour. If Ulquiorra had to guess why, it must have had something to do with the blue-haired thug sitting on the counter, mean-mugging the door. Strangely, he’d been doing this more often: he’d come into the store, buy something, then hang around, saying little to nothing. Orihime called it bonding. Ulquiorra called it an inconvenience.


Ulquiorra continued stocking the candy behind the counter, not bothering to turn around. “What is it?”

Grimmjow maneuvered the popsicle stick he’d been chewing on to the other side of his mouth. The wrapper he’d bunched up in his fist, and periodically squeezed, as if it were a stress reliever. “You’re pretty much human, right?”

“That is correct,” Ulquiorra answered.

“So when you die…”

He waited for the continuation of the question, but it never came. Grimmjow tossed the ice cream wrapper into the air, caught it, tossed it again, and held onto it. “Humans are pretty fragile, huh?”

Ulquiorra looked at him, but at that moment the shop door jingled open and seventeen-year-old Karin Kurosaki walked in, her long ponytail swishing. “There you are,” she said to Grimmjow, who glared at her petulantly. “Dinner’s ready. Yuzu sent me to look for you.” 

“What am I, your kid?”

Karin grinned at him. “Yeah, my kid. Come on Grimmaru-chan! Stop bothering the nice man. He’s very busy.”

“Screw you!” Grimmjow snapped, but slid off the counter regardless. Ulquiorra watched them depart, observing how Grimmjow ruffled Karin’s hair, how she smiled as she smacked his arm away, how he practically sauntered beside her, completely altered from the slouching, silent guy he’d been minutes ago.

He sensed Urahara Kisuke’s reiatsu behind him. “I do not suppose there is anything we can do for them,” he said.

“No,” Urahara answered with a pitying smile, “you’re the lucky one.” 


Apr. 29th, 2015 11:03 am
mistkitt: (Default)
Originally posted 1/28/2015

 Tell Yourself. Note: “aka-chan” means “baby.” It’s not the name of the child.


“Wasn’t the weather nice today?” Orihime lay in bed, smiling at the ceiling. “I thought it was lovely. Nice and mild. We’re right between flu season and allergy season, so it’s lucky that I fainted today and not, say, next month!”

Ulquiorra lay facedown beside her. “Are you listening to yourself?” he grumbled.

“You can’t be upset about the news,” Orihime said, rubbing her belly. “And if you’re mad because I fainted, that’s pretty unfair, don’t you think? I didn’t want to faint. Poor Satsuki-chan thought I was dead!” He didn’t answer. She sighed. “Nod for yes, head-shake for no. Are you mad because I fainted?”

He shook his head.

“Are you mad because I’m pregnant?”

He shook his head.

“Are you upset because I just gave birth three weeks ago, and you got me pregnant again on the first try, so now you’ll have to wait another nine months to touch me?”

He nodded once.

“I thought that might be the case.”

A tiny cry started up on the baby monitor. Orihime sat up slowly. “I’ll get it!”

Ulquiorra held out a hand to stop her. “You should rest,” he said, straightening and moving to the edge of the bed. “And I will not so much as sneeze in your direction, lest you give birth to twins.”

Orihime laughed. “I don’t think it works that way, but okay!”

Over the baby monitor, a door could be heard opening. Ulquiorra and Orihime stared at it, curious. “Oi, aka-chan” they heard Satsuki say, and turned their gazes back to each other. “SHUT UP!” her voice screeched, startling them both. “I’M TRYING TO SLEEP!”

Ulquiorra bolted out of the room. Orihime laughed herself breathless listening to her daughter’s complaints, her second daughter’s wailing, and her husband’s scolding. Poor Satsuki-chan! She didn’t even like the new baby. How in the world were they going to tell her that another was on the way?

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally posted 1/15/2015
Tell Yourself. A spring day.

Satsuki Cifer hauls a bucket onto the roof of her home. She waits, munching on a snack in the warm afternoon sunlight. Her Fullbring instructors come by to question her presence there.

THEN, target spotted! Her father, the unsuspecting Ulquiorra Cifer, approaching the house. He senses his daughter up on the roof, but since she’s attended by responsible adults, he says nothing. He doesn’t even look.

Too bad. A bucket’s worth of pickle juice comes crashing down on his head.

Across town, Orihime is walking home from work, when all of a sudden her daughter sprints past her in the blink of an eye. Seconds later, she’s followed an angry black blur that smells like pickles. Orihime flies after them immediately. She manages to cut Ulquiorra off, ready to put up a shield to protect the terrified child screaming “DADDY’S GOING KILL ME” behind her. Ulquiorra takes one step… and keels over, nauseated.

An hour later, Satsuki is grounded in her bedroom, the Fullbringers are scrubbing every trace of pickle juice from the front walk, and Ulquiorra is soaking in the tub. Orihime walks into the bathroom and reminds him to reassure Satsuki that he still loves her later.

Ulquiorra looks her dead in the eye and says he wants to have a second child. Orihime thinks the pickle juice has gone to his head.

The end.


Apr. 28th, 2015 06:09 pm
mistkitt: (Default)
Originally posted 12/23/2014

 The deep spring of sadness is back, and I must get this heaviness off of my chest. Tell Yourself universe; adult things I wanted to explore.


It was what one would call a “sensitive subject.” A fresh, badly hidden wound that bled and ached and screamed. Touching a sensitive subject was widely regarded as impolite. However, they were not that easy to avoid.

When two people suffered in the same confined space, it was impossible not to bump into those wounds. When two people had to look at each other every day, eat meals together, share a bed, there was no point in trying to hide their pain. They’d learned that lesson the hard way back in the early days of their relationship, and perhaps in a moment of youthful naivety, they’d promised it would never happen again.

Then she’d gotten cramps. Then she’d rushed to the bathroom to protect her clothes from getting stained. Then he’d walked in and found her crying, asked her what was wrong, and she could no longer stop herself from crashing straight into the sensitive subject:

“It was late. I thought… this time, for sure…”

She was angry at him. Angry at herself. Every day she faced the room of smiling, innocent children - children that weren’t hers - and a tempest raged inside of her.

Why did he get to pretend that he was the only one hurting?

How dare he shut himself away from her. How dare he hide his heart from her when he was the only person she could confide in about this. How dare he become cold to her touch. And how dare she be angry at the both of them for having equally valid feelings.

Two months passed. Two months of strained and meaningless conversations, of sleeping with their backs turned, of sitting up at night staring at her wedding band in tears because it was only a matter of time before he left her; when finally, she lost it.

She filled their silences with yelling. Closed the distance between them with hands grabbing and shaking and hitting where the hole in his chest used to be. Appealing to the heart he’d buried beneath the sands of his past, the heart that loved her at her ugliest, because she didn’t want to feel alone in that big house anymore, because hurting together didn’t have to be a bad thing. If he was upset with her, if he thought she’d been unfair, she wanted to know. If he was upset with himself, if he was afraid, if he thought he’d failed her because he couldn’t give her a child, she wanted to know.

Anything but this, she sobbed, as she lost the strength to keep hitting him and threatened to collapse on the floor.

But he caught her before she could fall. Caught her and held her against him so tight that it almost hurt. Held her without speaking, but the tears she felt landing on her shoulder were evidence enough that he’d returned to her, sorry that he’d been gone for so long.

They spent the evening nursing each other’s wounds. She told him that she was his, that she would never regret choosing him, that no matter what happened they would face it together. He told her he loved her, again and again, in the heat of passion and in the quiet and uncertain moments after.

They were still scared, of course. There was nothing that wasn’t frightening about trying to make a marriage between two completely unique individuals work. But it was their hearts that had brought them together, and they knew it was their hearts that would keep them that way.

Four months later, she turned up at the shop with a hand resting beneath her navel and an enormous, watery smile on her face.

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally posted 12/4/2014 

BELATED BIRTHDAY DRABBLE FOR ULQUIORRA. Tell Yourself universe. I just love making him happy ok 


Jackie Tristan entered the Cifer residence with an exhausted sigh. She’d only pulled an eight-hour shift at work that day, but her coworkers had insisted she go drinking with them, and for once she’d had no excuse not to.

In the living room, Riruka Dokugamine reclined on the couch, balancing a pencil on her nose. A dollhouse was situated on the table before her. Jackie sent her a confused look. “They still in there?” she asked. Riruka held up a finger as Jackie approached. Faintly, sounds of rapid gunfire came up from the dollhouse, and through one of the tiny windows Jackie could see paint on the walls.

“We work for five-year-olds,” Riruka declared.

It was certain. Captain Inoue had staged her own death and run off with her lover, the two of them marrying in secret and having a child together. What her husband didn’t know was that Captain Inoue had never truly given up on revenge. The marriage, the baby, the obnoxiously pink house – everything, weapons in her arsenal of psychological warfare. All she’d had to do was wait until Captain Cifer had grown complacent…

…and he’d still beaten her.

Presently, Captain Inoue sat dying against the wall, a small heart on her sweater and an entire clip of paint bullets in her gut. Above her loomed Ulquiorra Cifer, her husband and the father of her child. The gun in his hand was empty, the look on his face betraying no emotion. “You were a fool to think that I would trust you,“ he said.

"What gave me away?” his adversary rasped, pretending to cough up blood.

“You had more guns stashed around the house than the couple from that American film.”

Orihime perked up. “Do you think Jackie-san and Riruka-chan have seen it yet? We should watch it tonight!” Ulquiorra stared at her. “Oh, sorry,” she put on a pained expression, “I knew I should have kept them in the shed!”

“To think you spent all that time waiting to take revenge, and you were still defeated. I almost pity you.” His voice was as cold as it had been in his hollow days. Orihime smirked.

“Who says I lost?”

Red paint splattered the back of Ulquiorra’s shirt. His eyes widened. He turned slowly, the weapon slipping from his hand.

Five year old Satsuki Cifer stood in the doorway, pointing a tiny paint gun straight at him.

“Have you met my number two?” Orihime cooed.

“Impossi—!” Two more paint bullets hit Ulquiorra in the chest. He fell to his knees. This couldn’t be. His wife’s betrayal, he understood perfectly well. But his daughter’s? He glared at the child as she walked up to finish him off. “Why?” he asked. “What do you stand to gain from this?”

Satsuki’s frown was identical to his. “The insurance money.” She looked over his shoulder. “Right Mama?”

“Right!” Orihime agreed.

Ulquiorra tried to hold onto his glare. With anyone else, it would have been easy. But this was his five year old daughter, and he could easily picture Orihime coaching her on what to say before they entered the dollhouse, and the little girl agreeing with all of her childish enthusiasm. What did a little girl know of insurance money? What would she even buy with it, a million pieces of bubblegum? He turned his head, hid his mouth behind his hand, and laughed.

Orihime gawked at him. Satsuki, startled at the sight, dropped her gun and flailed her arms. “I broke Papa!” she cried, her Ulquiorra-like frown replaced by a very Orihime-esque panicked face, which only made her father laugh harder.

Much later,when they were all out of the dollhouse, cleaned up, and Captain Inoue had been properly rewarded for her victory, Ulquiorra would assure his wife that as far as birthdays went, that one made the top five.


Apr. 28th, 2015 04:02 pm
mistkitt: (Default)
Originally posted 8/28/2014

 Remember when I said I was done with the GrimmRin? I LIED. ⊙▽⊙


Could’ve been anything. Like how he poked her belly and the skin would sink beneath his index finger, but the arm that shoved his hand away was like a brick wall. Or perhaps that irritating cocky grin that, surprisingly, had been inherited by the mother who smiled so serenely in her photographs. Or the way she’d grab his attention, then do something weird like flare her nostrils, and laugh at his bewildered expression.

Could have been the way she ate the radishes her twin sister prepared, but picked them out of her food at restaurants. Or how she reached over and around him for a notebook or the TV remote, like he was some oversized pillow she’d forgotten to put away. Or how she’d once used him as a live target for soccer practice, firing shot after shot through the hole in his abdomen, until her technique was perfect, and had never apologized.

Speaking as a male, it could have been the way her tank top clung to her back when she was sweaty. Or the humid scent that came off of her after she showered. The shape of her muscular calves. The sway of her hips when she shifted her weight. The fact that she was oblivious to how sexy she looked when she let her hair down and untangled it with her fingers.

But it also could have been the way she tried too hard. How she hated her teachers when they claimed her brother was a thug. How she regretted not developing powers of her own. Or the casual way she mentioned a comment she’d overheard in school, like it had almost slipped her mind, and wasn’t corroding her self esteem. The things her classmates assumed because she didn’t date anyone. Her rejection of traditional femininity, and the injury caused by a boy she’d liked who had thought of her as “one of the guys.”

But if he had to name a few things:

The way she didn’t tell him not to wait for her by the school gate, even though the rumors were getting out of hand. How she held his hand when she had a bad cramp, squeezing tighter and tighter. The way she climbed into bed and shut off the lights even though he was still there, trusting him to get up and leave whenever he wanted. The look on her face when he’d complained that her clumsy attempt at a kiss was just that, and how she’d allowed him to teach her despite the insult - and the fact that she was a fast learner.

It could have been anything, though. She was easy to love.

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally posted 8/20/2014



It was said that children used social cues to decide how they should react to events. For example, a fallen child would not cry unless the people around them looked alarmed. So when Ulquiorra heard Satsuki wailing in the yard, he guessed that his well-meaning wife had gasped as dramatically as she often did, thus startling their daughter into a sobbing fit. He left his work on the desk and walked calmly to the back door.

Orihime, who had anticipated his arrival, gave him a helpless look. “Sorry,” she giggled, “I couldn’t help it.”

The crying child stood a few feet away, rubbing her eyes with one arm and holding the other apart from her body, as if doing so would distance herself from the pain of her scraped palm. Ulquiorra crouched down in front of her. “What happened, Satsuki?”

She hiccupped and sniffled, her little mouth trembling. “I f-fell and my h-h-hand is bleeding!”

He noted that her palm was, in fact, bleeding. “I see. And why are you crying?”

“Because it hurt!”

“Does it still hurt?” She nodded. “Does it hurt as bad as the time you hit your head?” Satsuki coughed, looked at her hand, and answered in the negative. “Does it hurt as bad as the time you spilled hot soup on your lap?” She shook her head no, her sobs quieting. “Then if it does not hurt that much, why are you crying?”

Satsuki stared at him. “I dunno.” And with that, she stopped altogether, her sniffles the only thing remaining.

Satisfied, Ulquiorra picked her up and headed back towards the house. “We will put a bandaid on it,” he said, “and then you may resume playing. But next time you fall down, remember that you have survived worse. A warrior does not cry every time she gets hurt.”

“I’m a princess!” Satsuki corrected him.

He looked at Orihime, who was still smiling apologetically, but seemed much more relaxed than before. “Princesses can be warriors too,” he said, and the three went indoors together.

pk stahp

Apr. 28th, 2015 03:37 pm
mistkitt: (Default)
Originally posted 8/14/2014

 This is the last of the GrimmRin I SWEAR (9*゜▽゜)9


“Ichi-nii, you’re back!”

Ichigo patted his not-so-little baby sister Yuzu on the head. Neither of them commented on the fact that he hadn’t aged while she’d developed into a lovely young woman of seventeen. “Just for a day or two. Wanted to make sure you guys were alright. Where’s Karin?”

Yuzu’s eyebrows and lips moved downwards. “She’s upstairs with a migraine. Had to miss soccer practice because of it.”

“Yikes. She won’t be very happy then, huh?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t know about that…” Yuzu said quietly, studying her fingernails and doing nothing to stop Ichigo from heading up the stairs.

Knowing that migraines required silence and darkness, he walked to the end of the hallway without turning on the light and very quietly, very slowly opened the door of his old bedroom. He stopped dead at the sight of a menacing shadow with glowing blue eyes glaring savagely at him from the side of his bedridden sister. Ichigo withdrew his head from the room and closed the door again, blinking. He went downstairs.

Yuzu was watching television. “How’s she doing?” she asked, not even taking her eyes off the screen.

Ichigo sat on the cushion across from her, a confused look on his face. After a few moments of processing, he pointed a finger in the direction of the stairs. “Was that Grimmjow?”


This seemed to confuse him even more. “What’s he doing in Karin’s bed?”

Yuzu sighed, turned off the television and moved to Ichigo’s side, laying a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “You’ve missed a lot while you’ve been away, Ichi-nii,” she said in her most comforting voice, “but don’t worry. It’s going to be alright.”

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally posted 8/14/2014

 Okay bickering GrimmRin was pretty fun but you know what’s even better?! Romantic GrimmRin. (ノ´ヮ´)ノ*:・゚✧


“Hey,” Karin murmured as she gazed out the window to distract herself from the shirtless Arrancar kissing her neck, “do you really have women in Hueco Mundo?”

“Hn?” Grimmjow cut her an annoyed look, half distracted from the mark he was leaving on her shoulder.

“I mean, I’m not stupid enough to think you’re a virgin, but…” She left the sentence open for him to interpret however he wanted; she was too embarrassed to continue. Why did love have to make her feel like such an idiot? She hated it. But this was a legitimate concern! She couldn’t exactly pop into Hueco Mundo and check.

Grimmjow paused his attentions, becoming thoughtful. He loomed over her, shading her from the sun coming in through the window, and considered the question. “I used to,” he said, “but not anymore.” He saw her head turn towards him in his peripheral vision. “Not for a few years now.”

She tried to hide the relief in her voice. “Why not?”

What the hell did she mean ‘why not?’ He scowled down at her, but there was no real anger in it. How could he be angry when her long black hair was loose and falling across her face in such a sexy way, and that smart-talking mouth of hers was parted so invitingly? Thus, he gave her the macho answer, because he wouldn’t be much of a hollow if he told her none of them made him feel a fraction as much as she did. “They were boring,” he growled before his lips came down on hers and she lost the will to hound him for details.

mistkitt: (Default)
Originally posted 8/13/2014

 Grimmjow and Karin mid-argument, because I want to explore it.


“If you have so many servants and bitches in Hueco Mundo, and life is so great for you there, why are you always hanging out here?” Karin muttered as she frowned down at her homework. She wasn’t as book smart as her sister, but she wasn’t dumb, either. No one in the family was. Ichigo’s old teachers had been saying so ever since the twins entered high school.

Grimmjow, sitting cross-legged on her bed and poking at his gigai’s holeless stomach, sneered at the question. “Even a king needs a break sometimes.”

“A break that lasts three months?”

“What the fuck do you know?!” he snapped irritably, then settled back into a quiet sulk.

Karin scribbled down an answer, checked her work, and moved on to the next problem. She neglected to ask why it was always her that he bothered when he came to the human world, and not Yuzu. It was troublesome. She’d been called into the office the other day because an idiot classmate had seen her hanging out with a ‘blue-haired thug’ and reported her. Karin was forced to endure a lecture about Ichigo’s reputation, family similarities, and how unsightly it was for a young lady to be associating herself with gangsters.

Morons. They didn’t know the half of it.

“I’m just saying, a guy like you, who has a kingdom full of wenches throwing themselves at his feet every night, wouldn’t come mingle with humans for months at a time for no reason.”

“What are you, my therapist now?”

“Do you even know what a therapist is?”

Grimmjow’s eye twitched. “I don’t have to put up with this!” he yelled, standing from her bed. “You are so lucky you’re Kurosaki’s sister!”

Karin threw her pencil down and whirled on him. “I’m quaking!” she snapped, her voice oozing with sarcasm. “If I piss you off so much, go bother your stupid women and leave me alone! I’m busy!”

Grimmjow stared at her for a moment. She was awfully fixated on the bitches thing, wasn’t she? A wicked grin spread across his face. “You’re not jealous, are you?”

One minute later, Grimmjow went flying down the steps of the Kurosaki Clinic, hitting several along the way before he came to a stop in front of a patient waiting to be seen. A door slammed upstairs. Isshin poked his head out of the examination room at the commotion, but seeing that it was just Grimmjow, he relaxed. “Don’t worry, he’s fine,” he said to his shocked patient. “Trust me, I’m a doctor.”


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January 2016

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