Summary: Up till the moment the brat opened his mouth, Grimmjaw believed in his victory. Fuck, he had no reason not to in his released state, power flowing unrestrained through his veins and all around him. But Kurosaki had to speak of his own reasons to win the fight and had him lower his guard. God damn that Shinigami.
Reason: After seven wonderful reviews, plus eight Favourite Story's notifications and another great comment from a friend, I supposed I could let my imagination keep on flowing to let you all know how much I disliked the way the manga and the anime (spoilers from here on out) killed, but not killed Grimmjaw at the same time. One, they killed him from the moment when we saw the realisation of imminent defeat in La Sexta's eyes and had Ichigo lie him down in the sand, him not moving or, in the manga verse, when Noitora made his "grand entré". Two, they did not kill him, because his body did not disappear as hollows' do, neither in the anime or the manga. Then again, maybe it's because he's an Espada. Or maybe it's like I keep saying that Grimmjaw is not dead. Either way, do not destroy that hope of mine and enjoy x)
Warnings: Rated M for a reason. Includes mentions of rape, violence, blood and adult situations. It has spoilers up till episode 167 and respective chapter of the manga (which I don't remember now), so read at your own discretion.
Additional note: Some authors choose to write "Grimmjow", I know, but I'll stick to "Grimmjaw" for personal preference and because that was the first translation of his name I saw. And due to a few subtly placed details, I do believe this can only be placed in the manga verse (at least, I think I did a good job at trying to do so xP).
BLEACH
Life in Death
BLEACH
One dainty foot was placed upon the sandy ground, so gently, so softly, so carefully that the dust the motion caused was not visible to the naked eye. It was followed by its twin and the same action was repeated.
A couple of feet above, a slender, partially covered hand rested on crumbling stone, tempting at first, last thing it wanted was for said stone to fall and alert whoever was there to its presence, but luckily, it stayed in its place.
The being those limbs belonged to let out a few tendrils of reiatsu out, probing, tasting, searching, wondering if someone was still there, just like a serpent would. It found a few readings, yes, beyond the waves of extremely powerful blows and attacks and defences and mere contact between two high levelled foes that had brought it there in the first place and that could still be felt.
They were moving away. And were occupied nonetheless.
While finding it fairly safe to come out of hiding visually, Reva kept a tight hold on her reiatsu levels, keeping it as low as she possibly could manage. And even so, as she approached the fallen Espada in the middle of all the devastation, she kept her mismatched eyes on the barely discernible figures' backs as they went on their tasks, whatever those might've been.
Her small footsteps made a bee-line up till the lone prone frame, seemingly surrounded by as much sand as it were by blood. Taking a quick glance at the motionless body, neither the blood, nor the differences in his anatomy were enough to make her doubt her judgement and intuition from the moment she had felt the beginning of this particular fight.
That this still corpse, cut and bruised and fading rather quickly, was without a doubt la Sexta Espada, Grimmjaw Jaggerjack.
Former Sexta Espada, perhaps?
By his reiatsu, there was no way for Reva to know. Despite being rather versatile and talented when it came to analysing, hiding and reading the spirit power of a living being (she had passed most of her life as an Arrancar hiding her true potential after all), there were still too many waves in the surrounding air, the particles still vibrating insistently with the sheer amount of power that had been released in such concentrated releases, in such short time and in such a secluded space.
Like a high sound wave that still left the eardrums vibrating long, long after fading away.
Not to mention that, even at such close range, she did not feel that usual suffocating, looming threat coming from the teal haired Arrancar as she usually always did.
That meant his senses were not aware of another's presence nearby.
Meant he was off guard.
And that was not something Jaggerjack would ever do. Ever. Because everyone here knew the risks of that ever happening.
There were very, very few who lived to make up for that mistake after all, since it never happened twice to the same hollow. Menos. Gillian. Adjuchas. Vasto Lorde. Arrancar. Fracción. Privaron Espada. Espada. Never.
Reva kneeled just beside him, finally looking away from the intruders and locking her hues on the potential danger her "fellow companion"'s claws and fangs presented.
Her lips were placed just above his, less than an inch, less than a quarter of an inch away from his. And she paused. She waited.
One… Two… Three seconds passed.
Her eyelids closed just a little, but her perception around their environment was still her top priority.
Four.
Lips parted, just a little. Ever so little.
Five.
So this is it?
Six.
Her eyes snapped wide open. Yes. Yes, she had felt the lightest of breaths upon her lips.
Ah. So the bastard is still alive? Kinda disappointing, Sexta, if you'd go down by such a cheap blow. I'm glad you didn't.Allowing a thin smile to curve her bow shaped lips upwards, she would've found it extremely ironic if she had seen the way her own self grabbed a hold of the dethroned king's wrist, since it resembled the way Grimmjaw himself had hauled her up from her place by Aizen's door.
But since she took the care to wait for the opportune moment, nobody, either it be Shinigami, Arrancar or anything in-between, saw the footsteps drawn onto the sand, nor did they associate that the dragging marks beside them belonged to anything or anyone, halfway dead or not. Just the wind.
And the wind, sole comprehensive thing in Hueco Mundo (and therefore Las Noches) and witness, tenderly wiped that evidence away as well.
BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH
One clear, vivid blue eye opened.
In reaction, the ebony coloured pupil contracted immediately and pain flared up in his mind, heavy enough to cloud most of his thoughts.
But one insistently kept sending orders to his nerve endings to move their tiny, microscopic asses into action so that his arms could come up, one to shield his hues and the other to massage an aching temple.
However, it didn't turn out as expected.
Last time he had checked, he no longer had a muzzle. Or paws. Or a tail either.
Forcing his pained eyes open once again, Grimmjaw took in the sight that greeted him and tried to understand exactly what had happened.
Sand.
White sand everywhere.
And a never ending pitch-black sky above. With no moon.
Why his eyes had acted as if there was a huge light source right in front of them was beyond him, but it seemed to be gone now.
Onto the next, equally important part: why the bloody fuck was he in his Adjuchas appearance again!?
"Don't think too much. That has never been your forte."
Startled, confused and not having gathered his bearings yet, his feline body tried to hastily get up, but all it managed was to raise him a few inches above the ground with his forelegs wearily keeping him up. Nevertheless, his eyes searched for the source of the voice. "Who's there?"
A chuckle was his first response. "Calm down. I won't attack you. Or you, me. It's physically impossible."
Regaining some of his strength, the guarded panther still looked around, now sitting down on his hind legs. Careless to his posture to show confidence, his tail showed his immense annoyance and anger towards this situation; the very tip twitched constantly, restless.
Grimmjaw was never one to analyse many things in battle fields. The potential on an opponent, the amusement he'd get, the differences in reiatsu and strength, speed, agility… He didn't consider them as analysing, for they were second nature to him.
Analysing the techniques, guessing how the opponent would attack and defend, how the battle was faring and on and on were things he left for other Espada. Those things took away the fun in fighting for the adrenaline of sating one's pure bloodlust.
But being dropped in a sudden place such as this, waking in a form he was very familiar with but hadn't for quite some time and all of it right after fighting that Shinigami, a fight to the death.. It all left him careful of his next steps, something he rarely did, for he opted for merely acting.
"No answer?" the voice cajoled again. "Well, I meant it. We can't fight here. This is neutral land, so to say. But if it soothes you, you have the advantage."
Pulling back his lips, he snarled. "Show yourself and we shall see."
"I'm telling you, you cannot. But whatever you say… Sexta." The title actually made his taut muscles relax ever so lightly, but his posture did not change.
His ear twitched as it caught the sounds of footfalls in the sand. Two pairs. But too synchronized to belong to two people. And they were synchronized in a way he quite recognized.
Whoever that was, it was a four-legged creature as well.
And sure enough, it was. It appeared in front of him, in a light trot, snowy white, then slowed down before completely coming to a stop several meters away from him not even two seconds after he started growling at its quick approach. Something at the back of his head told him this being had been the one responsible for the abuse of light his eyes had suffered at first.
It lowered its head and whined softly, calmly, before letting its own forelegs drop to the ground, its lithe body eventually following, so that its hind legs were tucked close to it and front ones stretched out, muzzle in between them. Somewhere behind it, a tail slowly moved, lazily. It reminded him of a wolf, despite it clearly being a hollow.
Grimmjaw found he didn't truly feel like pouncing and getting into a fight with it. Whether that was what it had meant when it said they would not fight, he didn't know, but that was what his instincts said.
"Where are we?"
Big eyes blinked at him. From this far, they looked greyish. Or maybe they were green. Didn't matter. "You truly don't know? Well… This place.. you aren't actually here, you see." But before he had a chance to retort, it went on, "This is your mind. You're inside it. Seems like it's the first time you're here then. It happens when your subconscious calls out to your conscious self. A… trance-like state."
Not liking where this was headed at all and despite not trusting the predator facing him, cerulean eyes still looked around them once again. But it didn't change anything. All they saw was sand. And the black velvet sky. "Then why-"
"-are you here? That has a thousand explanations and you aren't the first hollow to whom this happened." The wolf's muzzle did its best try at a smile. "Nor will you be the last. But by the circumstances, I'd say you're more dead than alive. Your body, I mean."
His pupils contracted to a mere slit, though not because of too much light this time.
So… Kurosaki Ichigo.. you did it? He racked his brain to pull up that fight, to revive it, check if it was true, what had happened. Then, the flash of a blade crossed through his mind. No. That fucking bastard Noitora… Tch!
In a flash he was on his feet and racing in the wolf's direction, rage in his eyes, his reiatsu singing for blood. "It can't be! I refuse to die in such a way!! Not before I feel that Shinigami's last breath fading, his wounds stop bleeding, his reiatsu lowering, by my hands, all by my hands!" his jaws opened and closed in a vice-like grip, "Not Noitora's, not Ulquiorra's, but mine! That human's life is mine!"
However, much to his surprise, he caught naught.
Looking up, blinking, he saw the wolf sitting there, tail neatly placed over its paws. "It's really none of my business whether you feel like fighting or not, but believe me, you can't hurt me here. Because I'm not even here." Another chuckle. "Guess I'm something you came up with to talk. Quite touching that you chose me though, Sexta Espada, Grimmjaw Jaggerjack." Its eyes, one blue and one green twinkled merrily.
Quite suddenly, a rumble started to be heard, subtle, but growing.
The she wolf glanced up, ears perked up. The delicate, tiny nose sniffed the air once, then twice. "I think it's time for you to go."
"For me to die, you mean?" once again standing up, Grimmjaw found a portion of smugness at realising he was taller. "Already told ya I wouldn't, not like that! I'm still not-"
Patiently, she interrupted him. "That, Grimmjaw, depends on you, not me."
BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH
One clear, vivid blue eye opened.
In reaction, the ebony coloured pupil contracted immediately and pain flared up in his mind, heavy enough to cloud most of his thoughts.
But one insistently kept sending orders to his nerve endings to move their tiny, microscopic asses into action so that his arms could come up, one to shield his hues and the other to-
Fuckin' dejá-vù.
However, this time, Grimmjaw was relieved when a cool forearm was placed over his forehead and eyes, and his free hand rose to rub at his temple.
Reopening his eyes slower this time, the blue eyed Espada took in his surroundings. Black and white. Tall ceiling. A mirror here. A wardrobe there. Not his room, but clearly another Espada's. And slowly, like a tempest slowly mounting, the pain set in.
He could not really say which wound was worst, since he ached all over. It wasn't a new feeling, nor the first time it happened, but it never failed to make him wonder at the intensity of it all.
"Are you awake now?"
His eyes snapped open yet again.
And his senses took in the rest that they should've taken in before.
Like the hand in his hair. And the body right behind his. And the lack of his zanpakutou by his waist; the corner of his eye letting him know it was in the table in front of him.
It happened very fast.
Reva hissed painfully as a strong elbow dug into her midriff, making her wrap her hands around it and helplessly gasp for a breath that was just not there. Consequently, and due to some other unknown push by another unseen limb, she was pushed out of the mattress even more ruthlessly and slid across the room's floor, harshly, unforgiving.
Coming to a stop a few meters away, she manoeuvred her body so that she landed in a kneeling position, one hand in front of her and splayed on the ivory tiles. Her free one stayed behind her back, in position, in case she needed to invoke a Cero. "The fuck's your problem, Sexta?!" her voice was still a bit breathless.
Said Arrancar did not respond. Didn't give her the time to do anything else either before tackling her. Despite the fact that she had told herself that she had been ready for it, she hadn't been. Her half-formed Cero had been quickly crushed and she only noticed so seconds later after attempting to release it. Here, now, underneath him, helpless, she could do little other than gasp and groan as quietly as possible when he let one fist fly into her midsection, the already sore spot now screaming.
Then she was being held by her neck and, like dejá-vù, those unconscious thoughts of needing to be free from that grip crept around the rim of her thoughts, leaving her near the edge of breaking down for the second time in front of this man in the exact same circumstances.
Yet, this time, she managed to hold onto some few shreds of sanity left and get a good grasp of his wrist, glaring into his not-quite-focused almost-too-blue eyes.
That seemed to allow his mind to recognize her. With his eyebrows furrowed, he nonchalantly let go of her and turned around, ignoring the way she wobbled for a moment, then regained her balance. "Oye!" Again, he said nothing. All he did was send her a dirty look over one shoulder while walking towards the small table. Calmly, he retrieved Pantera, slipping the sheath through his belt and ignoring, for the time being, the fact his hakama were severely ripped and his jacket was no where in sight.
"Why did you go out of your way, onna? To drag me back here?"
"Do itashimashite." She huffed, still rubbing her stomach tenderly. It would be bruised for a long time, she was sure. Reva was now careful to keep some distance between them. Given his sudden actions and now tamed anger, she at least supposed that was the reason behind his animosity. "You'd die if you stayed there for much longer. I had you looked at, your wounds cleaned and wrapped. Afterwards, I even let you use my bed. You had yet to awaken and I seriously doubted someone would let the chance of slitting your throat while you slept go just like that."
Inconspicuously, Grimmjaw changed his stare to his frame. Indeed, the most severe wounds were wrapped in clean bandages and he did not seem to be bleeding. Yet. Some of them were aching quite a lot; it was obvious his sudden movements and use of Sonido would do him no good in such a state.
But really, to realize there was someone pressed to his back like that – and without his notice too – only served to feed his paranoia. After all, Espada were constant targets of several Arrancar. Everyone wanted those ten positions of prestige. There was no room for trustfulness, to put it simply.
Turning his attention back to the female in front of him, he still frowned in distrust. "And ya expect me to believe you did it all as a proof of your good will?"
Now she actually smirked a little. "No." she took a few steps towards him, quickly stopping when his hand rested over the hilt of his sword. "But all the help is little."
"Nani?"
"You're one of the few Espada that plainly lets Aizen know he's not as respected as he thinks he is." Her smirk evolved to a little grin. "We have that in common. And, as such, I consider you a good ally to that cause."
In a movement far too fast to follow with the eyes, Pantera was levelled with her throat; Reva could feel the delicate waves of reiatsu flowing from its sharp, glinting edge. "I want nothing to do with that. Tch." He turned so that his profile faced her. "There are little things I care for. My number. My blade. My power. My enemies. Those conspiracies don't interest me, onna."
"I'm not asking you to be a part of it. But you'd be free." Her curious, different eyes glinted and his thoughts whirled to a stop.
His zanpakutou dropped to his side, even if he was still very much on-guard. That did interest him, despite his own words.
"Never mind though. Right now, it doesn't matter. It's not the time yet; the opportune moment has yet to come." After another meaningful look, she left him, headed to the bed again. "And looking out for you is looking out for myself at this point. Don't worry, if it wasn't for my little plan, I would've let you die like a weakling, just bleeding to death."
Not a second later, the sound of clashing steel echoed in the room as blades grinded against each other. One of her feet slipped and her position turned rather precarious.
After all, there she was with her upper body half leaning into his, her back to his chest, her own zanpakutou perpendicular to his, which had come pretty close to the unprotected skin of her neck.
"Do not compare me to a low level hollow, woman." His words were quiet and very dangerous.
Her free hand rose and supported her blade, balancing the odds a little more, even if he still just used his right hand. "Truth hurts, Jaggerjack." It was playing with fire, she knew, but she didn't care. Damn his pride. Either way, he could kill her with a single move with her like this if he so wished, what was the point?
And it was with a bit of amusement that she somehow managed to dodge and observed the rather big hole his Cero did onto her wall.
Zanpakutous clashed a few more times, more blows were exchanged and Reva was lucky to come out merely bruised and with a long scratch over the right cheek, horizontal, a nick done by the very tip of Pantera.
"Aizen probably has another meeting scheduled soon enough." Her fellow Espada grinned down at her panting self. His tongue swept the edge of his blade, cleaning her blood from it. "I'll be in my room. Let me know when that is… Reva."
BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH / BLEACH
She didn't bother with knocking; Reva knew la Sexta Espada had noticed her presence ever since she had exited her private rooms and was now entering his. Even if he was sleeping or showering or just plainly resting.
She had been right.
As soon as her footsteps quietened against the floor and her eyes glanced at the bed, the bed where everything had started really, his eyes were on her.
At least, that first fight that had taken place before wouldn't happen this time.
"You were right. A meeting will take place shortly."
The male got up at that, languidly, slowly. But she knew better. She knew it was his wounds that were slowing him down. The light frown upon his features also spoke just how much he enjoyed the current situation. As he passed by, she took the chance to place a hand carefully over his shoulder.
Reva moved slowly, as if she were approaching an unpredictable, dangerous predator. In a way, she was. She stood on her tip toes and caught his lips in hers.
She wasn't sure why she did it. Neither was he. Though neither complained when lips parted, tongues played forcefully in a show of dominance and teeth bit, nipped and clashed together.
The next thing the dark haired Espada noticed was the coolness of the closest wall against her back and the way the back of her head landed against it roughly. His hands were quick to find the thin zipper upon her upper vest to have an unrestricted access to her front, even quicker to roam her heating skin, over her shoulder blades, the gentle curve of her waist, her chest, all the while leaving behind reddened skin here and there.
Not that she cared at that moment. All she focused on was his mouth, their duelling and his touch.
Her lips left his then, trailing the strong, unyielding line of his jaw and she boldly nipped at the skin of his neck, listening with no small amount of pride the low growl of approval that escaped past his lips.
But then his subdued demeanour was pushed aside and her eyesight focused on white, white walls when he turned her body around, making her let out the faintest gasp. Said small sound turned into a low moan when the larger male pressed himself against her fragile-looking figure.
The next few sounds were the rustling of clothes, which lasted for a few short seconds, until his demanding hands found their way back to her curvy hips, dug into the skin with enough force to make her wince and leave bruises behind and then they turned her back around.
Their mouths met again for another primal, ferocious kiss and the fact that he could now taste the coppery, metallic rich flavour of blood made it all the more alluring to Grimmjaw. He did not know if the blood was his or hers, even if he calculated (at the back of his mind) that it was there due to the way they violently kissed, but that was about it.
One hand trailed down her side, fingertips barely grazing the outer side of her left breast in a rare, gentle caress, its goal the back of her knee. That faint, barely-there touch earned him an interesting reaction, a shudder, which he did not know for sure if it was from pleasure or repulse, like it had been that first time, but by the breathy pants that feathered the skin of his collarbone, he had an idea of which.
As soon as his long fingers curled over the back of her knee, she immediately lifted that leg, allowing her smooth skin to brush against his hip and her foot, left to dangle, to wrap around his own leg.
Grimmjaw did not need another invitation. Not that he'd ask her permission in the first place – they both knew he didn't and his reiatsu, clashing against hers and oppressing her, in a way, reminded her of such fact – but it did urge him to be faster in his actions.
His blood singing with adrenaline and carnal lust, the teal-eyed Espada fisted her midnight coloured hair with one hand, his free one supporting her around the waist. Just as the female lifted her supple body a little for adjustment and a better position, he entered her in one quick thrust.
The sudden move made her wince and hiss out her displeasure, her muscles tense and the pain to increase. In return, those exact unconscious reactions of her body pulled out a quiet groan from the male (as she knew would happen; men were all the same and this particular one – such as Aizen – revelled in the pain of others) and as the hand on her hair left and trailed down, to join the other, most likely, and move her, Reva decided it was best to give in yet again.
Not that she wanted to. In their few, short encounters, it had not yet changed; he was always the one in control and the sole time when she really tried to turn that around, she had regretted it and came out of it with a broken arm. Not the kind of experience she wanted to experience again.
What she'd do left her feeling very vulnerable, but what choice did she have in the matter? Little next to none. Therefore, it would be on their best interest to let him have his way with her and, perhaps next time, when he was calmer and not so riled up with his loss to that human scum, maybe she'd try her luck again.
Maybe.
As it were, she pulled up her other leg, now having both wrapped around his narrow waist and trusting him to hold her self up and against the wall. She could do that, since it would be for the best for him as well.
And true to her line of thought, Grimmjaw did so. He did not let her adjust anymore than those little short seconds it took her to pull up her leg and that it took him to let his hand join the one at her waist. Right next to that, he resumed his pace – always faithful to his nature, to the point, rough, careless –, thrusting into her and not holding back, not caring that that first harsh shove was the origin of the loud thud that echoed in the room, which had been the sound of her head hitting the wall yet again.
Conscious of that, Reva leaned in and opted to rest her left temple to his right one, both her dainty hands grasping his broad shoulders for support and for something to clutch whenever one of his moves hit a particularly sweet spot or if a pinprick of pain flourished.
The latter happened more often than the former during the first few moments of each of their trysts. Much to her annoyance, after that, she could not say which happened more often.
Usually, Grimmjaw would immediately growl at her for daring to be so close to him. Such closeness during such a moment could mean that she could use the chance to injure him somehow; the pressing of his bandages reminded him that it would really be too easy for her to do that right now.
But for some reason, the growl did not see the light of day.
Perhaps it was because Reva felt the conflict at the back of his mind and moved her hands, letting them absently knead the muscles of his shoulder blades. Perhaps not.
Still, he did not warn her to pull away this time.
And, perhaps, it had all started with an impulsive action on her part, but seemingly, it left him on a better mood.
"This doesn't end here, onna." The words were growled at her ear. Indeed, it would certainly not end here; but they had that meeting to attend to now. "But next time," she hissed painfully when one hand dug into her left hip and the other squeezed her right breast, "I won't just let you throw yourself at me like that. What I want, I take it. But if you feel like it, I won't give in to you."
Reva knew enough to take it as her first and only warning.
Nevertheless, it had felt good when she had done it. It gave her a sense of power.
Of freedom.
Maybe it was the same feeling he had felt when he had his way with her that first time and while he listened to her footfalls fade.
And if it was, well, she couldn't really blade him. It was addictive.
Owari
Vocabulary:
Do itashimashite: You're welcome.
Nani: What.
Onegai: Please.
Onna: Woman.
Owari: The end.
Dark: Same level as the previous chapter or not really? Do share your ideas with me, onegai :D Hope I didn't confuse many people with a certain scene too, but it had been on my mind to write it down, so I took the chance to do it. By the way, any ideas as to who the "wolf" actually is? n.n