(Proxyposter's note: Both these pieces are by Timewaster123456789)

A/n I own nothing. Inspired by Scaffold by NcFan. Thanks to the bleach wiki for refreshing my memory on the Ichi/Grim fight. Also warning for one epithet that reflects Grimmjow's personality not mine and adult themes including attempted rape. A 2-parter covering the positive (the Ichi/Grim fight) and negative (Nnoitra killing Nel) connotations of wrath. The ending requires some reading between the lines but that's the point, I'm curious how subtle I can go, so please review and let me know. Thanks to the pack esp. Wolfie.

Agon

Grimmjow was angry, enraged as he leaped in released form at Shinigami. Damn, the shinigami was strong. He didn't hate the boy, in fact he was grateful for the rematch. How many times did you get a chance to redeem yourself and what better way to test his strength, prove he was progressing? Here was his chance, on an even footing, to repay the humiliation of his last battle. The memory set his blood burning and he attacked with renewed vigor. The only thing that could make this better was if he was strong enough to take his shot at the Shinigami who'd taken his arm. He directed that rage at his opponent too, maybe if he could beat this bastard he could consider taking on the other.

The shinigami threw him back to the ground and he crashed through the corner of a building. As he laid there like a pussy trying to get his breath back, hindered by…two? broken ribs, he felt a stab of the feeling that he'd been stubbornly denying since their last battle. Fear. He was scared, he didn't know what would have happened the last time, if Ichigo's mask hadn't broken. He didn't like the feeling and he wasn't going to live it, he watched his opponent land some hundred feet in front of him and approach with insulting slowness. No need to hurry, he's not going anywhere. Bastard! With a snarl he rose to his feet. Oh this bitch was gonna DIE.

He tore into his opponent redoubling the ferocity of his attack, ignoring his wounds, the bitch was injured too so it shouldn't make a difference. Let it never be said that Grimmjow Jaegerjacuez couldn't give as good as he got.

He seemed to have gained the upper hand. He was winning? fuck yeah! Then the tide turned, he felt his opponant's blade slide into him. It turns out that there's something more infuriating than your mortal enemy sparing your life. He learned that, when he tried to continue the fight and his resurreccion faded away, his body betrayed him. Still he tried to fight, filled with impotent rage, useless fuel. He wanted to beg Ichigo to kill him but he wasn't quite that pathetic.

He never saw the blow coming, there was just impact and then darkness.

He opened his eyes a moment later, tried to rise and found he couldn't, his body had nothing left to give. So he lay on the ground helpless, riding out the pain that wracked his body and waited for the final blow as Nnoitra swaggered in for the kill. Now he hated. He hated Nnoitra for not giving letting him have a real fight, hated himself for not being able to put one up. He saw that sickly double-scythe arcing toward his head and knew he was done. That was fine, only the strong survived, at least he knew Nnoitra would finish the job. He was almost grateful. He just really wished that it hadn't been Nnoitra, he knew he was stronger than that fag. He'd always thought that one day he'd stomp five's ass. Guess not.

CLANK! His eyes widened as he watched his opponent block the blade. Grimmjow had always valued strength, knew from experience that compassion, mercy and the like were weaknesses. However looking upon Kurosaki, bloodied, broken and yet standing under that scythe for no reason other than to keep it from the who'd tried to kill him. Grimmjow would be damned to apply the word 'weakness' or any of its like to him. 'Idiot', 'Moron', 'Dumbfuck', yeah sure but not weak. He watched the battle, Kurosaki was badly wounded, it wasn't anything close to a good fight, he had no qualms about intervening in that circumstance. As soon as his body would obey. He tried to struggle to his feet but could barely sit up. A few minutes and he'd catch his breath and...the fight wasn't going to last a few minutes Kurosaki was toast. He forced himself to his feet his adrenaline surging, but promptly collapsed, he closed his eyes not wanting to watch the end.

Thirty seconds later the sounds of battle still echoed across the desert and he opened his eyes to see Nel kicking Nnoitra's ass from here to the living world and back like she always had. He smirked and seeing that the battle well in hand began crawling off to lick his wounds. He knew Nel wouldn't kill the bitch. Once he healed, he would fight Nnoitra the right way, one on one, at full strength and would kill the fuck out of him. See how Five did when his opponent could actually stand, he glanced back to see Nel still effortlessly beating the shit out of him and his smirk broadened. Not well apparently, he would get his revenge.

Todestrieb

He was powerful, a creature that took what he wanted from those weaker than him. He never asked quarter and never gave it. He prided himself on being merciless, Softness was useless to him, some might say it was why he hated women and there was some truth in that. He had claimed that he hated Nel because she was more powerful than he and for that to be true of a woman, for her to stand above men in battle was unnatural. There was truth in that as well. The best lies always had a grain of truth.

A week before he threw her out of Las Noches she had kicked his ass again, andagain the bitch wouldn't kill him.

"Why do you keep attacking me?" she taunted. He spat at her and she sighed offering her hand, he slapped it away and rose on his own. His leg buckled, against his will he gasped in pain as he fell, only to find hands under his arms keeping him off the floor and his weight off the bad leg. His face burned with humiliation as he hung in her arms.

"FUCK OFF!" he roared, though he was in the awkward position of knowing he would collapse again without the support. That was nothing compared to accepting the insult she was giving.

"Aiaaaaiieee. Aaaaaiiieeee, help!" she started shrieking. Clearly mocking him, he took a swing hampered by the fact that he could barely move his shoulder, she didn't even bother blocking. He stopped fighting, figured that it was slightly less humiliating to simply let her have her fun and get revenge later, than to keep attacking to no effect. God someday he would best this bitch and take his rightful place on top of her, in every sense of the phrase.

"Sorry for the noise," she said as she slowly released him, he stood with his weight on his good leg. "Syazel was walking by, " she nodded towards the corridor behind him. "I wasn't sure you could stand and didn't think you'd forgive me if I let you collapse in front of him," she explained. The fuck? Like she was his fucking keeper? Whether he could take it or not was his problem, how fucking dare she? It was his weakness and he should have died for it.

"Forgive? What the fuck is your problem bitch?" he spluttered, taking a step toward her. His leg buckled again, she caught the back of his coat before he actually hit the floor and lowered him down the last few inches before letting go. He looked up hating her with his entire being. How dare she look down on him? Going so far as to condescend to show him mercy? It was the ultimate affront. She sighed sadly.

"I'm sorry. I really thought you'd rather have the word be that you were ravaging me than the truth." He told himself that she was taunting him, had to be there was reason for someone to care about someone else's reputation, but there was nothing except sincerity, compassion and pity in her eyes.

"God how pathetic are you?" he spat. Then realized his own position and said nothing more. He lowered his head again, horrified that rather than the hate that was burning him alive she'd see shame in his eyes. He wondered what the other thing he felt was, he couldn't define it, but it seemed similar to relief.

"Hand?"

"I don't need your help cunt!" he snapped and listened to her footsteps as she left. He rose slowly when he was sure she gone and returned to his quarters. She'd not only spared him, but had gone out of her way to keep his shame private. He was disgusted with himself, with the situation. He hated her, yet no matter how many times he rejected her kindness, beat her down- when she opted not to fight back-, did everything he could to make her reciprocate she wouldn't hate him in return. That bitch was forever rubbing his face in how much better she was and he hated her.

He hated her because, despite himself he appreciated this one scrap of kindness that Heuco Mundo offered. He hated her because he could never reciprocate and he couldn't make her stop, it was the only response he could manage.

When his injuries had healed he arranged a meeting with Syazel and together they plotted the death of the third Espada.

When the day came, he was excited to finally get his revenge.

"You're sure about this? Aizen isn't going to be pleased,"

"No one's going to shed tears for that bitch and Aizen will find someone more suited to the life." Nel was too soft by half, it was going to get her killed after all.

"More ruthless you mean?" Syazel asked with a smile. Nnoitra answered with a sick smile of his own. Soon.

x

When it was done he looked down at her body and laughed with Syazel.

"We should get out of here," Syazel said. He sounded nervous.

"Scared?" he taunted.

"Of Aizen? Hell yeah,"

"Pathetic," Nnoitra sneered. Though to himself he'd admit that Aizen wasn't someone anyone was lining up to cross. He might prefer death to pity, but avoidance was definitely an option. At least where offense hadn't already been given, he amended and looked back at the body before turning away and heading with a light step toward his quarters, happy to be rid of both Syazel's company and the bitch.

He found his feet taking the long way, his steps clicking on the stone of the battlements and realized that he was avoiding returning to his quarters, though he couldn't have quite said why. He remembered the first time he'd met her:

There was a knock at the door of his quarters and he looked up surprised and annoyed. The only one who ever came to his quarters was Aizen, and he of course didn't knock. He opened the door.

"Hey," Nel said, she was holding some kind dessert.

"You weren't there when Aizen-sama introduced me to everyone. I wondered who this mysterious 'number seven' was," she explained with a playful smile, mocking. He stepped aside to let her enter and leered at her ass as she walked by.

"You know," he said shutting the door behind him. "If a mouse shows up in his house you can't really blame the cat for what happens."

"That's horrible," she said. She turned around, her smile falling away. He smiled his creepiest smile and took a step towards her, the leer faltered when he realized her hard eyes held no fear. "However I think you'll find I'm no mouse." Well if she was going to be so flip about it…also she was smokin' hot. He lunged at her.

It was the first time she kicked his ass. It was also the first time she spared him. She looked at him as he sat against the wall one arm instinctively pressed to his ribs while blood flowed from his mouth and nose. He waited for her to kill him, she just watched, then her eyes softened and filled with sadness.

"You like that people fear you," she said.

"Who doesn't? Dumb bitch!" he tried stand and failed.

"Anyone who has a choice," she replied offering her hand. Innocent little idiot. He took it and tried to yank her off balance. She anticipated the move, was braced and he to his disgust was too wounded to so much as budge her. She merely shook her head as though disappointed.

"I'm giving you another option," she said. He spat blood at her. That was the moment he decided he hated her. "If you ever do that to anyone else I'll kill you."

He snarled, baring his teeth at the insult, "Kill me now if it's so easy."

"No. If you change your mind though you can find me," with that she left. He spat more blood and a string of curses at the cunt as she left watching the swaying half naked ass. He licked his lips, bitch!

.

That had also been the first kindness he'd received since he found himself in Hueco Mundo, that stupid desert, he couldn't even remember what it had been. He felt his lips twitch and swallowed hard. Goddamn it all to hell. Even dead she was emasculating him, he could practically hear her mocking voice, with it's fake-ass sincerity 'Tissue?.'

He wondered why he never did overstep, he'd wanted her to kill him, why not test that threat? He hadn't though. perhaps just biding his time until he'd killed her and could do as he pleased? Done and…well he'd find someone who suited his fancy. At any rate he wasted no remorse on his deed. He reached his quarters and took a shower, she had been fucking hot. Water ran down his face, just shower water mind you. It turned out she wasn't that hot. His body shook as he breathed, obviously his chest hadn't fully healed yet. He hated her. It was the only response he could manage.