A/N: As has been stated more times than I really care to count, I adore Szayel Aporro. A lot. He is by far one of the most fascinating villains I've ever had the pleasure of watching in action, and I must say I feel resentment that he was just a foil for Kurotsuchi in the end... -__- He's got so many sides to him, all of which I find fascinating to explore. Yeah, that sounds all godly and omnipotent, but if I ever need to explore passion gone sour or insanity, our favourite pink haired Espada is where I go. There are some subtle references to a backstory that I may or may not write, but it can be read without any knowledge of it. Now, this is a twoshot, Ilforte;s portion picking up around the middle of Szayel's and then continuing onward. Yes, there's Granzcest. As much as I love SzayelIshi, I can't deny the implications, and I actually like it quite a lot. (Though still not as much as SzayelIshi.) ...I'm getting really diffuse... xD I really like writing for Szayel, but please let me know if there's anything I missed/that I can work on. I'll STFU now.
Few things made Szayel happier than a chance to poke and prod things from the human world. His precise mind had never lost the the exact date of his death (or maybe his liberation from that miserable demense?)-- November 29th, 1937. By his calculations, he had been dead (reborn? saved?) for over seventy-five years. Which, compared to some of the other Arrancar, was relatively young. But the world did move so fast (he'd know better than anyone), so there was always something fun to play with and explore.
The confectionery sweet he held gingerly between his long, gloved fingers fascinated him. Whatever muse provided humans with ideas such as this was one he truly hoped he'd come in contact with, just for the chance to create such joyously simplistic things for the sake of crushing them. Blatantly ignoring the not-so-subtle tapping of his brother's foot, Szayel held the candy up a little higher. The white stripes gleamed a netherworldly blue in the light of one of his many computers, and the inflated pixels reflected a sick sort of pleasure back from golden eyes. His tongue slipped out of his mouth to caress the red and white cane in a distinctly erotic manner, swirling around the stripes and questing for words to match taste. It tasted like... blood. Innocence. Sex. The sting of a lover's harsh bite on one's throat. The sweetness of a throaty moan, of conducive results. Madness. Power. Loss. A once beautiful girl, body ripped apart in a cruel mockery of her holy name. Szayel sighed. He really did overthink things sometimes.
The sound the candy cane made when his teeth split it in half was eerily similar to that of bones snapping.
