Religion

Until Aizen had come and started talking about the 'Throne of Heaven' and how he would be God, Hueco Mundo had never known the idea of religion. Nevertheless, as best Grimmjow could figure, Aizen wasn't the God-in-the-making. As Aizen told it, and Grimmjow understood it, you had to start human, then evolve into something else, then get strong enough to be the ruler of whatever you were, then you got elevated to 'God' status. Aizen, contrary to what he said, did not qualify- his power level was nowhere near high enough for him to be ruler of all shinigami, and he hadn't started as a human but a soul reaper. Therefore, by Grimmjow's reckoning, Aizen was a false God and following him was not the religion he claimed. There was, however, someone that was a candidate- a God-in-the-making and a true religious leader, someone who had a belief system the blunet could understand and follow whole-heartedly. Ichigo Kurosaki. He'd started out human, become a soul reaper, had enough reiatsu to beat the Captains and even most captain-and-above level Arrancar and Espada (and was getting stronger every moment he breathed, it seemed), and was well on his way to becoming all that Aizen had defined to them was a 'God'. He did what he had to or thought he had to regardless of forbiddance by his elders and so-called 'superiors', often with little regard for his own life, and he, as all leaders are cursed, most of the time had no real choice. Of course, it could always be argued he had a choice, but he was a leader, and whatever is said otherwise, a leader or King never truly has that luxury. A true leader does what is best for his people, whether he wants to or not, and this was displayed in Ichigo as his "kingdom" expanded. First, his kingdom had consisted of his family and a few close friends. Then, as he began making friends with a soul reaper and saving all the souls he could around his hometown, all of Karakura became his kingdom. When the black-haired woman had been captured and slated for execution, he'd had no choice at all. He had to save her.

This he accomplished, nearly sacrificing himself in the effort several times along the way. He collected more subjects, more friends, as he went, expanding his kingdom further, overlapping into Soul Society. Next, Aizen had betrayed the shinigami and several of those in Kurosaki's kingdom had been endangered. He did his best to defend them, and though it got him sliced in half and very nearly killed, he was enough of a distraction that all those he led and considered part of his kingdom, his following, survived. Then came the Winter War when Aizen escaped…threatening Ichigo's Kingdom in its' entirety. Really, the boy had had no choice at all. So Grimmjow figured Ichigo was a God, his God, whose commands were ones he already followed: battle for the sake of battle, but do not let it go to your head; protect what is yours; do not let your own preferences or your own battles get in the way of your duties to that which is yours. Simple rules, but hard ones to live by. And so, Grimmjow lived by them, worshipping at the altar of battle with the only one who could accept his offering- Kurosaki himself. As steel clashed with armor, blades bit into flesh, and blood splattered white and black robes, Grimmjow laughed. This religion stuff was worth it, when you got right down to it, if you actually believed.

Family (Sort-of sequel to the GrimmIchi music drabble, the bonus one, written to Breaking The Habit)

Ichigo had known, right from the start, he wanted a family someday. Not a particularly large one, and not immediately, but it was in the back of his mind as an eventuality. Adopting a baby girl after he killed her father hadn't exactly been what he had planned, but what else could he do? He hadn't known that Orihime and Ulquiorra had even been together, much less that she was pregnant by him! Orihime herself hadn't known until after they rescued her. It had only been his poor luck that Ulquiorra couldn't be revived, but he had nevertheless taken the infant and woman for himself. Of course, since he wasn't the one his wife actually desired and she hated him with good reason, he did virtually everything for the babe. Thus, when little Yukihiko (he'd had to name her) asked why he didn't have a mommy Ichigo was prepared for the question. Mommy doesn't like Daddy much, he explained, so she doesn't spend a lot of time at home. Daddy hurt her on accident once, the heart kind of hurt, and it reminded her of it when she saw Yuki, so she pretends Daddy and Yuki aren't there. Yuki, her green eyes afire, had said that in that case she and Daddy could pretend Mommy didn't exist either. Ichigo had just laughed. Four years later and he'd stopped wearing his wedding ring, because even if they weren't officially divorced they were legally separated- he hadn't seen Orihime in two years. He was in the living room, reading the paper as he waited for her to get home from school (something he'd started doing two years before, when he'd become the boss of his accounting firm and finally been able to work out of his home) when the door opened and a hesitant "Daddy?" reached his ear. Immediately, he put the paper down.

Grimmjow had been spying on this pair for three years, ever since he'd come looking to collect on the promise Kurosaki had made him and found it was too late, and he'd never heard that tone before, but he knew what it meant. It wasn't just "Daddy?" it was "Daddy-something-bad-happened-and-I'm-afraid-you'll-be-mad-at-me". Worse, he could smell blood. Worried for the child (he'd grown rather attached as he watched her grow up) he hopped onto the balcony and peered in through the glass door. The eight-year-old had her head down, her black bangs hiding her eyes from her father as she fidgeted uncomfortably. Visibly concerned, Kurosaki knelt in front of her and used one hand under her chin to make her look up, exposing an already darkening black eye. As he hissed sympathetically, Yuki glanced up into his eyes before looking back at the floor- oh yeah, Grimmjow knew that look. Something she'd done had resulted in that black eye, and she'd probably had it coming, so she really didn't want to explain it but knew she'd have to. "Yukihiko," Kurosaki said sternly, "what happened?" "Well," she said in an embarrassed tone, "the boys at school were making fun of me because I told them I don't have a mommy so I beat them up after school. One of 'em managed to get me good though." Kurosaki facepalmed, while Grimmjow grinned proudly from his perch. Thatta girl, baby, that's my girl! Yuki finally looked her father in the eye, brown to fierce emerald. "They deserved it, Daddy." Behind his hand, Kurosaki grinned. "Remember how I said sometimes it's okay to beat people up? That was one of them." Unable to help it, Grimmjow burst out laughing.

Both Ichigo and Yukihiko jumped at the harsh sound, Ichigo because he recognized it and Yuki because it was the first time the floating man with the blue hair had ever made noise. Watching her Daddy trip on the rug and fall flat on his back when he tried to turn around too fast made her giggle, and she ran over to the Floating Blue Man. "Was Daddy tellin' the truth, mister?" The man unfolded from the balcony railing (and he was much taller than she thought he was) to pat her head and muss her hair gently like Daddy did sometimes when he was tired. "Yep, squirt, he was right. That was definitely one of the times it's okay to beat people up. Me an' yer Daddy know all about that, and if you hadn't walloped 'em I would've. You DID wallop 'em good, right?" She nodded rapidly, humming in happiness when his big, warm fingers rubbed the base of her horns. "I got 'em so good it looks like I strapped 'em!" The Floating Blue Man grinned so wide at her declaration that the teeth on the outside of his cheek grinned too and then he laughed again. "Thatta girl, Yuki," he murmured, his eyes going soft and warm just like Daddy's did, "Thatta girl. I'm Grimmjow by the way." She tilted her head to the side a little. "Daddy's Grimmjow?" Neither saw it, but Ichigo flushed red from collarbone to hairline.

Grimmjow just raised one blue brow in question. "Well, Daddy has a favorite person," Yuki explained, "that he likes and cares about almost as much as me. I think his name is Grimmjow but I'm not sure 'cuz Daddy says strange things in his sleep and sometimes he has nightmares. So are you Daddy's Grimmjow?" Further into the apartment, the panther heard Kurosaki's muttered "Oh God" and it made him smirk. "I don't know, kit. Am I, Kurosaki?" With a sigh, Ichigo finally got up from where he'd fallen and walked into the kitchen to get a refrigerated cold pack for his daughter's eye. "Yeah," he called from around the corner, "you are my Grimmjow." While the Arrancar was stunned by this revelation, Yuki giggled and hugged his waist. "I knew Daddy must've known you from somewhere! Why else would you follow us around for so long?" Suddenly it was Grimmjow's turn to blush and Ichigo's turn to smirk as he handed his little girl the cold pack and looked straight at Grimmjow. "Followed us around for so long, hmm?" The friendly ribbing stopped right there, however, when Yuki asked from under her cold pack, "Daddy, does this mean I get a Papa too, like Kurion?" Both men blushed, and Grimmjow tried to explain (through a stutter he'd suddenly developed) that he and her Daddy didn't like each other that much or that way, where Ichigo promptly cut him off that Grimmjow was the kind of person only special people could see, just like her horns were special, so they couldn't both be her Daddy anyway. This startled Grimmjow, who stared at Ichigo, because it contradicted his assumption that Kurosaki was unavailable. Yuki pouted and said she liked him better than the Pineapple Man.

Chuckling, Ichigo picked his daughter up and put her in his chair, letting her settle in as he went to go make dinner for them. "You never did like Renji. Not when I was dating him, and not before or after. What do you have against him anyway?" Yuki turned to look at the wall, expression abruptly sad. "I didn't wanna tell you because it would heart hurt you, Daddy, but Pineapple Man always made sparkly eyes at women even when he was dating you, and I think he went home with some of them. He was a no-good-filthy-rotten-cheating-dog and I'm glad he's gone now." Grimmjow swallowed. "I remember 'im. Wanted t'tear him apart fer doin' that…I hated how he dared come back 'ere reekin' of them loose women." Ichigo sighed, hidden from sight by the kitchen doorway. "I know. That's why I broke up with him." Deciding this warranted some private discussion, Grimmjow gave Yuki's hair another thorough ruffling with his hand and proceeded into the kitchen. "Oi," he said softly, coming up behind Ichigo, "ya didn't say you don't like me the way you oughta like yer wife." He snorted. "I've always preferred men and her mother hates my guts for killing her biological father- Ulquiorra." Whoa. That stopped Grimmjow dead. "You mean t'tell me…? Well fuck me, definitely didn't see that coming." Putting one hand on his hip, Ichigo turned around just long enough to flick the blunet in the forehead. "I'm human, and presumably any partner of mine that could bear children would be human or shinigami, so where the hell did ya think she got the horns from?"

Rubbing the red spot forming on his forehead, Grimmjow had to admit that it made sense. He wasn't happy to admit it, but he admitted it nonetheless. Sure, the kid's hollow form had horns, but they were much, much larger and differently shaped than the girl's. Watching Ichigo return to his cooking, the Espada couldn't help thinking it would be nice to he human, to go to work and come home to that every day, a beautiful man willing to be a house-husband and as best a father as he could be. The mortality and weakness would be worth it. He wondered what it would be like, to have a family. A bit shyly, he asked Ichigo, "Hey shinig- um, Ichigo…d'ya think maybe you could give me a try? I already know I like the kit, and I'm pretty fond of you, so maybe you'd lemme try this whole…family thing? I uh…sounds stupid, but I wouldn't ask if it wasn't you an' her." That made Ichigo pause, but after a moment he moved again, saying cautiously, "If you wanna stick around and give it a try with us, I'm sure as hell not gonna stop you. Ya just better learn to do laundry and clean." Grimmjow wrapped his arms around Ichigo's waist and nuzzled his shoulder. "I'll cook fer ya sometimes too- can't let ya do all the work 'round here."

Shoes

Grimmjow, when he had discovered Ichigo's place of residence, had been delighted at the prospect of fighting him whenever he wanted. This, of course, led to him studying his prey to learn his habits, which led to the discovery of something he'd never seen before- footwear that covered the entire foot and climbed up the leg, sometimes all the way to the knee. He had no idea what they were, but he wanted to find out. So one day, during the eight-hour stretch that Kurosaki spent away from his den, Grimmjow went in through the window and started to examine them. They sure as hell weren't anything like the sandals that were standard Arrancar uniform, or even the ones that the shinigami wore in spirit form. The majority of the thing smelled like dye and tanned animal hide, so it must've been dyed leather, but the bottoms were of a strange substance he wasn't familiar with. It had elasticity and give, but always conformed back to the original shape. It seemed that it would be extremely comfortable to walk on. Further, this was one that went up to the knee, and it had steel buckles all up the length from around where the ankle would be when wearing it, held in place by leather straps. Probably for tightening it around the leg, but if that was the goal, wouldn't regular laces have been better? Maybe this was specialized footwear of some sort…he was so engrossed in his perusal that he didn't notice the shinigami had returned until he spoke. "Oi, Grimmjow. What the hell are you doing with my stuff?" The panther jumped up, startled, and nearly dropped the thing. "Shit shinigami, I was just trying to figure out what the hell this thing is. I ain't ever seen 'em before," he growled, thrusting it at the teenager. Confused, the boy caught it almost automatically, staring at Grimmjow a moment before he actually looked down at what he was holding. "Oh, this. It's a boot. It's a combat boot, to be specific; I wear them when I'm…expecting trouble. It's heavy-duty, so it comes in handy when fighting hand-to-hand."

Now Grimmjow looked confused. "Who the hell do you fight hand-to-hand that ya need special 'boots' fer?" Grinning, Ichigo took the partner to the boot he held and set it by his desk chair, then started taking a poorly-repaired, bloodstained outfit that was entirely ruined for everyday use out of the darkest corner of his closet. As he started changing into the ruined clothes, he commented, "Follow me when I leave and you'll find out." Watching the muscles of the smaller male move, Grimmjow mentally thanked whatever Kami was listening that the boy wasn't shy and fought not to drool. He'd never known how built the kid was under those big ass baggy robes. Unable to control the urge to lick his lips at the sight of that luscious ass, Grimmjow trailed after his owner- errr, his prey as he left the house and silently thanked his curiosity that had forced him to examine those weird shoes. He rather liked watching that ass move underneath those jeans, and he had to admit the boy looked good, damn good, deliciously good, in his 'combat boots'. He decided he liked boots.

Gay

Spying wasn't Grimmjow's strong point. He was more of a charge-first-think-later, go-in-swinging-and-go-out-the-same-way kind of guy. It was just the way he worked. It had never been his intention to find out about Kurosaki's personal life, only his physical weaknesses. Open spots in his guard, flaws in his stance, places that were present every time he fought that Grimmjow could take advantage of, that sort of thing. He hadn't meant to find out that the boy was involved with a man. Several men, actually, one right after the other. He couldn't seem to find one that would stick, one that would stay. It frustrated him to no end. It was even starting to irritate Grimmjow, and he didn't even have anything invested in the situation except for passing interest. Explained why the kid was so vicious in battle, though, particularly when he'd just gotten rid of another one (he thought the phrase was 'broke up' or 'dumped'; he was never sure what the fuck the terminology was these days for courtship). One day, after discarding what was maybe the thirtieth or fortieth male that only wanted sex and no attachments whatsoever, which he was apparently averse to, the boy threw back his head and roared at the sky. "AM I SERIOUSLY THE ONLY GAY GUY IN THIS TOWN WHO ISN'T AN ABSOLUTE BASTARD?" Hmm. That was new- there was actually a label for men who liked other men now. 'Gay', as Grimmjow was familiar with it, had simply meant 'happy', or more commonly, 'deliriously happy'. It was interesting that they used that same word to describe male-preferring men. Of course, now that he was this deep in it (he could recognize almost all of Ichigo's previous beaus on sight and name more than half) he couldn't tear himself away from the unfolding real-life drama. It was just too much fun to watch and hear.

Then, it seemed he finally found one that was worth a damn. A sweet little thing that really liked him and put up with his constant disappearances. Unfortunately, it turned out that one was a man-eater that had a particular liking for claiming virginities and then disappearing, from the screaming, violent, very public parting they had. Both of them screamed at each other and Grimmjow swore that if his big Spanish friend hadn't been holding him back Ichigo would've torn the little fucker apart. Particularly when the bastard expressed his disappointment that Ichigo hadn't "given it up" after a month of going steady- even Grimmjow wanted to fuck him up for that one. It was a man's prerogative to decide who he wanted to fuck and who he wanted to fuck him and it wasn't the partner's place to pry or try to force it! Two and a half months of watching this go on and he couldn't hold his tongue anymore. He came up behind Ichigo, who was watching his latest attempt at a relationship walk away, and clapped him on the shoulder. "Ya need ta start goin' after dead people, shinigami, like that tasty redhead. These living world morons just ain't cuttin' it." He was surprised, after a moment, to be looking up at the sky with his back aching as though he'd been whipped. "Holy- fuck, Grimmjow, don't do that! It doesn't work that way anyhow- all the shinigami I know are either straight or taken." Despite still being dazed- and was the wet stuff he could feel oozing through his hair blood or was he hit just that hard?- he managed to grin up at Kurosaki. "Then start going after Espada. God knows any of us, minus that emo fuck Ulquiorra, ain't likely t'turn you down." Ichigo snorted. "And I suppose all the Espada are gay then, including you?"

Grimmjow appeared to actually consider that for a moment. "Well, since Hallibel's female, I'm going to assume she's straight," he replied, "but other than that, yeah. And with your ever-growing power levels, we'd go for you in a heartbeat. Hell, most of us wouldn't mind matin' ya- that's sorta like the Hollow version of marriage." The kid blinked, then laughed. "Gay and willing to marry me, Jesus. Maybe I should start going after Espada." Getting up, Grimmjow couldn't help the lecherous leer or the completely involuntary licking of his lips as he looked Ichigo up and down. "Yeah shinigami, you should. You also oughta start with me. Maybe even right now. In yer room, if ya don't wanna get caught talkin' ta yerself in public." Kurosaki snorted, but gestured for Grimmjow to follow him home. Grimmjow mused to himself that maybe being 'gay' would be fun.

Traditions

If humans had their traditions and shinigami had theirs, Grimmjow had one too. Personally, he thought all the little holidays and rules and fucking retarded traditions humans and shinigami had were absolutely pointless, but his, on the other hand, was special. His tradition was, every Friday night, to pop up in the human world and see how far Kurosaki had progressed in his training that week. It was a simple tradition, one he faithfully kept up. Kurosaki caught on by the third week and now hung around the same park at about the same time on Fridays to indulge the panther Arrancar. Except one Friday he wasn't there. Mildly irritated, Grimmjow searched him out. He found him at a graveyard, kneeling before a particular stone that had new offerings put there recently, probably by the boy himself. Grimmjow hung back until Kurosaki was finished, and when the pair left for the park, he never said a word. He was adamant enough in his own tradition to recognize someone else keeping to theirs. He also wasn't enough of a jackass to ridicule him for it, even if he didn't understand it.

Season

Mating Season. Heat. Whatever you wanted to call it, it was back, and the hollows were going goddamn crazy. Grimmjow himself could feel his body betraying him, giving in to the lust and the need to just fuck whatever he could sink his claws into. He needed to find something and screw it through the floor, and he wasn't feeling particularly picky. He'd retreated to the human world because the violence his "brothers" and "sisters" displayed during their (very, very PUBLIC) rutting wasn't particularly appealing, and the second he tasted Kurosaki's reiatsu on the air he hadn't been able to contain his moan of delight. Oh, fuck, that was good, and he wanted, goddamn it! When the teen himself arrived, Grimmjow took him by the collar of his uniform and pulled him flush against his own overheating body. "I know ya don't like me much, shinigami," he growled against the tanned skin of his neck, "but indulge me, because it's fuckin' mating season and I don't get off on torture like the other Espada so you're my only prospect." Clutching Grimmjow's shoulders to try and ground himself, the substitute soul reaper groaned in his ear. "Hard ta…turn you down when you…urgh, keep touchin' me like that…" Aw hell, that voice and that husky groan made him hot all over. Now he really had to have this shinigami, no other would do at this point. Licking any skin he could reach, he let his hands knead at the muscle of the younger's ass and demanded to know where they could go that had four walls and a bed. He personally wouldn't have minded doing this on the nearest rooftop, but he had a feeling that Kurosaki would prefer this to be private.

The next thing he knew the shinigami had flash stepped them into a room with a saccharine scent that was attempting and failing to mask the stench of this room being used over and over for sex. Love hotel- he could work with that. They had barely touched the floor when he started shedding clothes, his three-quarter jacket being the first to go and followed quickly by Kurosaki's gi. They fought to get rid of the shinigami uniform for a moment, growing frustrated when it tangled around his hips and elbows, but with a few more hard yanks it pooled on the floor and he stood naked and blushing under Grimmjow's hungry blue gaze. Loving that blush but displeased by the way the boy covered himself, the Arrancar evened it out by shucking his own hakama carelessly and purring when the darkened amber eyes swept over him from head to foot and liked what they saw, darkening further. Grimmjow pounced, using his tongue and teeth and hands to drive Ichigo as crazy as he was getting, worshipping every inch of the tanned skin he could touch. Nipping at the copper-colored nipples and reveling in the heady moans and groans he was forcing out of the younger male, he played with them for a few moments more before diving down to the treat he'd been working towards. The thick, reddened cock lay hard and dripping against the shinigami's stomach, almost reaching his navel. Looking at that magnificent length made his ass clench, and for a moment Grimmjow (to his surprise) couldn't tell whether he wanted to suck it or ride it until he was raw. He settled with telling himself he'd have Ichigo top him later and right now he wanted to taste it.

Watching his entire dick disappear down Grimmjow's throat was almost too much for the inexperienced teenager and he threw his head back with a low cry and tried to convince himself that he didn't want to come just yet. It worked right up until the panther got impatient and started fondling his balls while digging his tongue into the little bump situated where the head met the shaft- his frenulum. He lost it then, coming with a hoarse moan that was the only warning he had enough breath to give. Grimmjow swallowed it down like it was ambrosia, licking his lips to catch what stubbornly wouldn't stay in his mouth, and kissed his way back up the lithe body underneath him. Ichigo was still shaking with aftershocks, clutching the sheets in a death grip because he didn't know what else to do with his hands. Grimmjow looked at his hands, then nipped at his knuckles, which made him let go in surprise. He licked the crescents the strong fingers had pressed into the palms with short nails, then placed the tanned hands on his own shoulders. "Touch me," he rumbled sensually, "lemme feel your pleasure. Go ahead an' dig in yer nails, make me bleed. It tells me I'm doin somethin' right." Ichigo obliged, not entirely sure what he was doing, but willing to indulge Grimmjow anyway. Noting the hesitation, Grimmjow suddenly had a sneaking suspicion and dove back down, shoving his nose back behind and underneath the teen's balls; the scent of pure Ichigo there informed him what he had begun to suspect- that he was pure virgin. He groaned at both the scent and the knowledge it gave him, feeling something inside him unsheathe and lock in place. If he'd still been in panther form that would've been his dick peeking out. As he was a humanoid, he wasn't sure exactly what it was and looked to find out.

"Holy shit, Ichi, look what ya did t'me! I didn't even know I have barbs on my dick until you brought 'em out!" Abruptly, he felt nails dig into his shoulders and smelt fear. "Barbs?" The unease and naked fear in that one word made him regret saying anything. To try and alleviate that fear, he sat back so Ichigo could get a good look. "Yeah, little backward-facing barbs with rounded edges that popped out when I smelled yer innocence. Here, feel." Grabbing one hand, he guided it to the place the barbs had cropped up, right under the crown of his cock, and rubbed both their fingers over them back and forth. It felt like nothing he'd ever known before, and he felt his knees go weak at the sensation so he had to hold himself up with his hands. As he shuddered, he noted in the back of his mind that Ichigo didn't seem to be afraid anymore- the barbs were velvety soft even when you were moving against them, with only slight resistance and a decent amount of give like cartilage. He figured that they wouldn't hurt, which was why he wanted Ichigo to play with them in the first place. The last thing he wanted was to scare his little virgin bedmate. A second hand joined the first on his now-barbed length, and he let a deep moan vibrate through his chest to show his appreciation. It appeared that Ichigo wanted to return to favor of making him delirious with pleasure, and he was working at it in all seriousness. "Lemme…oh gods, Ichigo, lemme fuck ya. I need ta be inside ya, Ichi, don' make me come yet, lemme inside, please!" Suddenly remembering Grimmjow was in heat, Ichigo drew back and started rooting around in the bedside drawer.

Grimmjow whined, hands pulling at his own hair in an instinctual move (which felt strangely good) and waited impatiently for Ichi to come back, shifting against the sheets with his legs spread and his erection hard and trembling, barbs pulsing, the entire length begging to be touched. Warm slickness was suddenly engulfing his cock entirely, and he threw back his head and roared at the surge of pleasure he hadn't been prepared for. He wasn't even sure what it was, only that it rippled across his cock over and over from base to tip until the world was blurry and the thought he'd lost his mind. Then he heard a slick, wet sound of something moving against something else and he briefly wondered what made it before a hand on his back urged him up and then on top of Ichigo, and he pried open his eyes to look at the other man, his head still spinning, and saw he was flushed and flustered. He didn't understand it until one long leg wrapped around his hips and pulled him closer, grinding their hips together, and the orange-haired male demanded, "Fuck me, Grimmjow." He used two fingers to feel the virgin entrance, testing it, and found it already prepped and slippery- that must've been what the sound was. He slid in to the hilt with a broken moan that sounded almost like a sob it was so good, and had to stop himself there not only to let the boy adjust, but to keep himself from coming immediately. The world was too blurry to actually see and his head was spinning too hard to know up from down, so he closed his eyes and went by touch, focusing completely on Ichigo.

Pressed up against the boy as he was, he could feel the teenager shaking. From pain or pleasure he wasn't sure until he pressed his unmasked cheek against his partner's and felt the tears there. No matter how thorough the prep was, the unfamiliar stretch hurt the first time, particularly with a partner as endowed as Grimmjow, who was about an inch and a half thick and seven inches long (about the same size as Ichigo himself). "Relax Ichi, you have to relax or it'll hurt more, please Ichi," he whispered against the boy's skin, and he was relieved to feel him obey. It would be better once they adjusted to each other and Ichigo relaxing was vital to make sure he didn't tear him apart. He littered kisses and nips across the flesh he could reach, trying to ease the pain a little by distracting him. It seemed to work, because after a few moments Ichigo's other leg came around his waist and the teenager ordered him to move, a command Grimmjow was more than happy to follow. With every slow, testing thrust, the barbs dragged gently and it made Grimmjow moan and groan with every inch he moved, and when those barbs scraped lightly over a little bump inside of Ichigo it made the boy jolt with a high sound that combined a whine and a yowl- the sound seemed to whip Grimmjow's lust higher and he started thrusting in earnest. Still shaking a little, the smaller wrapped his arms around Grimmjow's neck and began to move with him; his whole body started vibrating like he was going to fall apart. When the heel of one of Ichigo's feet started pressing at the Arrancar's own entrance, it was too much and he came with a completely feline yowl, shoving in as far as he could go as his body shuddered and locked. It was so good he blacked out for a minute.

He came to with his body wrapped around Ichigo's, his face buried in the crook of his neck and trembling with aftershocks. Ichigo was stroking his hair soothingly with one hand and kissing his temple, both very intimate and gentle actions. "Feel better?" Grimmjow licked him. "Yeah. Much better. Just one last thing before I can rest for a while without the season takin' me an' leadin' me by the dick again." The orange-haired male yawned, sharp teeth that Grimmjow hadn't known he possessed flashing briefly. "Yeah? What's that?" The panther rolled, bringing the still-hard teenager on top of him with a wide grin. "I need you ta screw me through this mattress." Ichigo laughed and grabbed the lube. "Consider it done."

Series (set in the Pet universe and takes place after 'Run')

Grimmjow had finally found a way to lure his cute little hybrid into the house and get him to stay there- books. The more, the better, and if they were in sequence, that was best. He'd found out quite by accident- Il Forte had recommended he read "The Merchant Of Venice" by Shakespeare, and he'd started it only to become frustrated halfway through with the archaic English because it wasn't his first language anyway. He'd made a disgusted noise and set it on the outdoor table, went in for a beer, and when he came back Ichigo was in his chair, legs curled underneath him and tail wrapped around his ankles as he read. Surprised at the sudden acceptance of his nearness, Grimmjow had cautiously taken the chair next to it (originally meant for Ichigo) and just watched his little pet enjoy the convoluted book. When he finished the thick book in what Grimmjow considered record time, he also deduced that the lizard was a voracious reader and offered Ichigo access to his personal library. He'll never forget how those brown eyes sparkled as green-tinted hands grabbed his own. "You have your own library?" And thus began the true pet-owner relationship. In their society, a pet wasn't considered truly yours until it depended on you for something. In most cases the pets were raised from birth to depend on humans for food, clothes, toys, and shelter, so this wasn't typically a problem unless your pet had been 'wild' at one point. Since Ichigo had been wild almost all his life, he didn't rely on any human for anything; he could hunt his own food, sniff out his own water, build his own shelter, fashion or steal clothing for himself (if he even wanted clothing, as when he had been wild he'd typically gone naked), and if he wanted to be amused he would amuse himself. Though Grimmjow had bought him, Ichigo had not been 'his'. Now, he needed Grimmjow to get something he wanted- books.

Grimmjow hadn't bothered gloating at the victory, just celebrated with an extra beer and a small smile. He found what types of books Ichigo liked the most and went out and bought as many as he could find, asked what authors he was fond of and bought or ordered every one that had ever been written by them. It was the one thing his hybrid actually needed him for, and he wanted to deliver. Ichigo responded to this blatant desire to please positively, staying inside the house for longer and longer periods of time outside of snatching food Grimmjow had put on the counter or grabbing a new book to carry into his tree-nest. He even started taking over the long plush couch, settling his entire five-feet-nine-inches of length on the cushions while letting his tail hang over the arm. He then started allowing himself to take naps indoors on the couch, first very brief catnaps and later longer, deeper sleeps. He stopped bolting every time Grimmjow came into the room and after a while stopped displaying any more than an acknowledgement of his owner's presence. He still was extra sensitive to his surroundings, however, and particularly to Grimmjow's mood. It was the day he came home after being caught outside in the rain and Ichigo's tail had a towel draped over it as it hung over the back of the couch, waiting for him, that he realized his hybrid accepted him as a friend and possibly as an equal. Since that made him feel suspiciously fuzzy and warm inside, he cooked steak that night. Ichigo had never seen steak before and asked him if it was very good. Grimmjow hadn't been able to resist and offered him a forkful, inviting him to taste for himself.

Ichigo, of course, had been unaware of the romantic aspects of eating from someone else's fork and had indulged the blue-haired executive then and multiple times since, whenever the man cooked a food Ichigo hadn't encountered before. Hell, Grimmjow had started looking up new recipes for the sole reason that when he made something new he got to pretend for a mealtime that Ichigo was his lover and not his just-barely-tamed-pet-and-almost-friend. What could he say? Over the months he'd grown attached and fallen in love (like a goddamn moron) and now he was stuck fantasizing about his beloved. He didn't even dare hope that the lizard would one day indulge him in that, too, so he mostly stuck to fantasies and masturbation. Of course, he never knew that he talked in his sleep, or that even at his age that he could have wet dreams, during which he moaned loudly enough to wake Ichigo out on the couch. He only found that out when he woke up because he'd come, staining the sheets and making them uncomfortably sticky. There was also a green tail wrapped around his dick that had just begun to withdraw and bright brown eyes watching him from the face that was resting the chin on green-white-red crossed arms.

Extremely embarrassed, Grimmjow blushed and started to sit up, an apology already halfway out of his mouth when a clawed hand on his chest pushed him back down. Confused, he turned to question Ichigo but the orange-haired nineteen year old just shook his head and put a finger to his lips to tell Grimmjow to stay silent. The older man obeyed and let his pet do what he wanted. Ichigo moved in close and lay against the bigger male's side, pillowing his head on the muscular chest, tangling their legs together with his tail and wrapping an arm around the human's waist. He also started stroking the blue hair with his free hand and making a soothing rumble deep in his chest that was meant to ease them both into sleep. Still confused but more than happy with this development, Grimmjow nuzzled into Ichigo's orange hair and drifted back to sleep. When he woke up, the lithe male was still with him. Grimmjow asked what he'd done to be so blessed, and Ichigo replied simply, "I heard you calling me from out on the couch. I came to see what it was but you were asleep, so you must've been dreaming. You were so hard it looked like it hurt, so I helped." He blushed again, but since the end result was that his hybrid started cuddling with him every night, and after that the lizard began Courtship Rites, he sure as hell wasn't complaining. Snuggled together on the couch, the executive marveled that all this was started just with a series of books (which he was continuing to provide for his little voracious reader).

Magic

Fighting to close the portal his maniac Master had opened, Grimmjow wrestled viciously with the magic- it had opened a portal to Hell to summon a demon, and it did not want to close until a demon had come through. Abruptly it obeyed and slammed the portal shut, and he knew it had been too easy- something must've come through. "Shit, King…what happened?"

"Judging by those bloodstains, a murder."

"But King, isn't murder Zaraki's domain? We wouldn't have been summoned just for that."

"Yeah, that's why I'm here."

"Ikkaku! Good to see you- what's it been, a month?"

"Something like that- it was justified murder, the man was mad and evil to the core and I've already collected his soul, so I'm done here. Enjoy your stay."

"Enjoy our- hey wait! Damn, he's gone. What was that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Grimmjow grunted as he got off the floor, one hand holding onto the side of his head that was bleeding, "that my Master opened a portal to Hell and summoned you here, and I couldn't close it in time, so you're stuck until either I find a way to release you from the contract or I die. Through the contract was meant for him, since he's dead the contract automatically transferred to me. It didn't help that he hit me with a glass figurine of the deity of Binding and that made me bleed all over the Summoning Circle and Contract Etching." Since his vision was still blacked out, he couldn't see the demons (probably a Lord and his servant) and had no idea one was approaching until there was an "ARRGH!" followed by a heavy thump. Grimmjow felt around until he hit a wall, then leaned back against it and laughed. "So you figured ya'd kill me and free yer Lord, eh? Good try, but Master Aizen was a slick fucker. He wrote it into the contract somewhere that you wouldn't be able to harm the contract holder to escape the contract… and at the moment, that would be me. I haven't looked it over in detail yet but he'd probably also put it in that ya can't be released from the contract so you couldn't threaten him into doing so. Then again, he mighta put in a clause that let him release ya so he could use it to control ya…he was a sick fuck too." Suddenly he heard footsteps and claws were gently combing through his hair. "He injured you?" The Apprentice Mage laughed hoarsely. "Considerin' he was tryin'a kill me, yeah he did. Might even have blinded me."

A pair of lips pressed to his hair and there was murmuring in the demonic tongue, and he felt magic seeping through him and heal his injuries, including his eyes. Blinking to clear them, he looked at the demon Lord to see who had been stuck with him. It was a beautiful young male with bright orange hair and graceful horns, warm honey-golden eyes, and two red curved stripes beneath his left eye that were his only apparent demon markings. The more human-like they were, the more powerful the demon Lord was, and this one had to be a high-ranking demon Lord indeed. You'd never know he wasn't a human noble if you hadn't seen his horns, even with the marks. Some human nobles of the Royal Courts wore make up to have such marks now, as that was apparently what was fashionable. It had something to do with the recent alliance treaty with the Demonic Royalty and showing support, he didn't know and didn't care anymore. Still a little loopy from the healing magic (demon magic had a tendency to do that to humans, no matter how powerful or proficient they were with their own magic) he grinned up at the demon. "Hi. I'm Grimmjow…uhm, do I address you as My Lord or…?" The demon laughed. "I'm supposed to call you that since you're the contract holder, so let's settle for Ichigo. Just don't make me hold to that title, if you don't mind." Grimmjow closed one eye as he chuckled- it was an old reflex that he'd never quite gotten out of the habit of. "The only reason I could figure you'd ever need to call me is that is if there was another Sorcerer around. They consider it good manners to subjugate someone else's demon if they're 'insubordinate'."

There was a snarl from somewhere behind Ichigo and Grimmjow scoffed. "I remind you, servant, that most of the demons summoned into contracts are lesser Lesser Demons and little more than animals. Demons of your Lord's caliber are very, very rarely even targeted by a Summoning and even less rarely are they caught by the spell, which is typically poorly woven. When the typical contracted demon is acting up they're likely to go on a killing spree so it's commonplace for them to be forcibly subjugated by whatever Sorcerer is nearest." An extremely white face suddenly was resting its chin on Ichigo's shoulder, and just so happened to be an exact copy of Ichigo's face but for the coloring. The black sclera surrounded wolf-tawny eyes, marking him as a demonic albino, and even his hair was snow white. "How'd ya know I was a servant?" Grimmjow blinked. "Almost all Demon Lords of the upper noble ranks have servants. If he's the Lord, that means you have to be the servant. You gotta remember that until I killed him, I was my Master's servant. I know about these things. Lemme up, will ya?" Both demons backed up, giving him room, and Grimmjow clambered to his feet only to notice they were paws and his bone-armor was out. So was his tail, claws, and three small forehead horns. "Huh, looks like my parentage is showin' again…musta happened durin' the fight. Explains why I ain't dead yet."

Twisting around to examine his tail more closely, he didn't notice the two demons exchanging a look. "Parentage?" Noticing a hole that went through his middle for the first time and too engrossed in exploring it to look up, his answer was slightly muffled. "My pops was a Lesser Noble Panther Demon from the first level of Hell. He indulged himself while up here on business and nine months later my ma kitted my brother and me. Being half-demon was a blessing for her 'cuz we grew up faster than other kids and she had to get back to work as quickly as possible, so it wasn't long before she was back to whoring while we waited in a back room or hung out with the whores who weren't entertaining that night. Hey, do all half-demons have this hole in 'em or is that a Panther Demon thing?" Two clawed hands, one tan and one deathly white, grabbed his hands and held them away from the hole. "That, Grimmjow…is an Upper Noble Demon Lord 'thing'. I think your father was more powerful a demon than you thought he was." The blue-haired man thought about this for a moment, then shook his head. "It don't matter anyways, I'm still a whore's son an' a streetrat, so if my pa was Upper Noble Demon Lord or not makes no difference. I'm still a half-breed." Reverting to his human form, he went back to the table the Etching lay on so he could study it more closely. He missed Ichigo's sigh.

Examining the runes, not all of which he was familiar with, he traced them with his fingers and particularly the way they were woven together- so tightly he couldn't find any gaps. "Shit. This here is the Rune of Soul Binding…and this the Rune of Penance…the Rune of Absolute Control…Rune of Sacrifice…and all of it woven together with and in the shape of the Rune of Eternity. That son of a bitch not only made it so you two can't be released from the contract…he was gonna make himself immortal, which has transferred…to me. Worse, I think he may have gotten the immortality ritual right." Bracing his hands on either side of the Etching, he growled under his breath. He'd never wanted to enslave anyone, but forcing someone into slavery for the rest of eternity was even worse than temporary enslavement would've been. His fingernails dug into the table, and two clawed hands abruptly started massaging his shoulders. When he glanced, it was the servant, and he forced himself to relax enough that the digging fingers didn't hurt. "Ichigo, do you have any pressing business in Hell? High-ranked as you are, I have to assume you actually do something with your time. I have to study the Etching, but since this," he pointed to a particularly complicated-looking series of runes, "says you two can't be further than 100 miles from me unless by my personal permission or order, that means you can't go to Hell without me unless tell you to. And this rune," he tapped another part of the carved glass, "restricts me from giving you permission to leave unless I know what you'll be doing."

"Well," Ichigo replied mildly, "If I'm going to be spending much time on earth with you, I'll have to set up people to manage my affairs while I'm away and arrange ways those who manage my lands and estate can contact me if they find it necessary. Do Shiro and I have your…permission…to go and arrange such?" Calling over a Runary with a small burst of Air power, Grimmjow snorted. "Yes, yes, permission granted to take care of whatever business and personal matters you find pressing in Hell before the binding forces you to return to me. If it weren't for these damned requirements written into the spell my bastard of a Master used you wouldn't even have had to ask. Go whenever you wish and return when you want. I never wanted to be anyone's Master but my own, and certainly not of a Noble Demon Lord, so as much freedom as the binding will let me give you, you'll have." Hearing a portal open and then close, he set his elbows to the table, held his head in his hands, and let his eyes roam the intricate runes wearily. "Oh merciful Gods…why give me this mission? What wisdom do you possess that a filthy halfbreed streetrat like me would be entrusted with the mission of fixing all the horrors Aizen has committed?" A moment of silence, just in case the Gods decided to speak (they never did, but it was common courtesy to give them the opportunity anyway) and he chuckled bitterly. "Since ya ain't sharin', I just hope whatever wisdom ya got on yer side ain't faulty."

Watching from the shadows of the room as his Lord and King had commanded, to learn the true nature of the human they were now bound to serve until eternity came and went, Shiro smiled just a little. This human was exactly who he appeared to be…a rare thing with humans and rarer with Mages. Then he frowned- the beautiful creature had called himself a 'filthy halfbreed streetrat' like it was nothing, like degrading himself was commonplace and even expected. He carried the Hollow Hole, rather oddly placed, true, but he had it, and that automatically made him a demon of the King's Court and higher ranked than almost any other demon, with all the rights of a full-blooded demon and probably all the powers of one as well. He'd already proven he could easily hide his demonic appearance beneath human flesh without killing a human and stealing their skin, one of the most difficult of the Demon Magics, and he'd likely been doing it all his life; that made him powerful indeed. When Grimmjow abruptly pushed himself away from the table in a violent motion that spoke of frustration, he realized that as he lost himself in musings the Apprentice Mage had been researching the runes Etched into the glass. Apparently, what he'd discovered was not good and he was letting it show. "Rune of Dominance Permanence? That fuckin'…fuckin' mil de fiesh kamá¹! How dare he? That Rune and its' resulting spell is banned from all but the deepest pits in the lowest level of Hell and even then it's used sparingly!" Grimmjow whirled and slammed his fist into the wall hard enough to send stone chips flying, impressive even for a demon as the wall was magically reinforced, and beat his other fist against it with far less force as he slid down the wall. On his knees, the half-demon rested his forehead against the wall and his voice broke.

"He wan'ed ta make 'em 'is loy-toy² too. L'kik's Hellfire³, 'e wan'ed soul-broke slaves an' 'e planned t'make 'em 'imself," the blue-haired man whispered, slipping into what Shiro suspected was his native dialect of street slang, which the demon couldn't understand for the life of him. But whatever it was, it had to be absolutely horrible to make a man who'd spent most of his life trying to strive beyond his ascribed social status to be so horrified and shocked that he slipped into uncultured dialect. If he'd done it in public it would've resulted in immediate demotion back to the lower ranks, as it would offend the Human Nobles' delicate sensibilities. Pompous bastards and fools, the lot of the human Noble Court. Shiro didn't understand them and probably never would- they sneered at anything different from them and considered it lower than they, which Shiro just couldn't comprehend. All different kinds of demons were in the King's Court, from children to attractive ones to ones that were ugly as sin- the part that mattered was power. The only difference between their people that mattered was difference in strength, and that was because your survival depended on it. And if someone was different, that did not automatically make them 'lower'- an attractive demon would naturally be more appealing to an attractive demon than an ugly one, but if that ugly bastard could kick the pretty one's ass in a fight, that was probably who was going to marry successfully. That was just how demons worked. It was what made sense to them- but he was going on a tangent and the little Master-Lord was hissing something. He sharpened his ears so as not to miss a syllable.

"The bastard wanted to strip whoever he ensnared of everything and now I've got to pick up the pieces," the Mage hissed viciously, his teeth gritted so hard Shiro wondered that they hadn't splintered. His body transforming as he went, Grimmjow rose and moved back to the Etching and the table it lay on, using one claw to delicately trace the lines of the runic symbols. "How the fuck am I ever gonna explain-" the half-demon's voice cracked as he cut himself off. "I have to tell them, it's only fair they know. Aizen's depravity knew no bounds and I cannot keep this from them. Aizen, you sick, twisted fucker…why couldn't the spell have died with you? If only I'd gotten up here sooner and closed the portal in time…" he sighed, "but I can do nothing now but try to untwist all the goddamn knots he's tied." The black-furred paws, which were in the exact shape of human hands but for the wickedly lethal claws that tipped them, once more braced against the table. It seemed the position was one he was accustomed to assuming when studying something small intently; though the Etching was in actually quite large for a pane of glass, almost as large as a window pane, it was less wide than Grimmjow's arm span and thus qualified as "small" to him. He probably assumed the same position when studying a book intently because he didn't fully understand the theory explained in it. He was still in that position when King Ichigo returned several hours later, which due to the temporal difference between dimensions, was the equivalent of nearly a month on the Demon Plane.

"Have you learned anything new, Grimmjow?" Tearing his eyes from the runes, the halfbreed looked over his shoulder at the pair that must've just arrived from L'kik-Terram˘ and blinked for the first time in hours. "I- yeah. Y-ya might wanna sit down… ya have no idea how fucked up Aizen was." The demons exchanged a look, then did as advised and sat down. Turning to face them and braced against the table, Grimmjow looked a little green in the face and his mouth was tight. "Aizen…wasn't just mad and power hungry, he was very, very twisted. The runes have told me what he wanted, and it was horrible beyond my imagining. He wished to make himself a God. His plan was to summon the most powerful demon he could and bind them to himself, then force that demon into being his sex slave. Through the slavery, and more specifically through the sex, he would drain their energy and power away from them and take it for his own. As a demon's power replenishes itself when exhausted, he would continue collecting the energy and power until he had elevated himself to the status of an immortal God. The details of this process are horrific and gruesome even for what I imagine the most cruel and hardest of demons would find sickening. Worse…due to the Rune of Dominance Permanence and the Rune of Absolute Control, if I give you an order, you cannot disobey and live. You cannot challenge me outright, even if I give my express permission, you cannot defend yourself from me if I seek to harm you, and if I am not careful you will be forced to submit to me if I make any gesture that could be construed by the spell to be sexual. You also will apparently be forcibly drawn to me if I feel…desire…and if I read it right you'll feel obligated to tend to my needs and wants, even eager, despite what you actually feel or think."

Shiro rose and pried Grimmjow's hands free of the table- he'd left indents in the wood that were a perfect imprint of every joint and fine hair because he was gripping it so hard. "If ya break the table you'll break the Etching and then where will we be?" the servant reminded him quietly as he started massaging the cramped and locked muscles. Grimmjow stayed silent, knowing the albino was right; they needed that damn etching so he knew what all the restrictions were. Then after a moment, he added, "I'll openly admit that if either of you insisted, which the spell would make you do, I find you both attractive enough that I probably wouldn't have the will to say no. You'll have to probably lock and bar yourself in your rooms in L'kik-Teram to not end up in my bed and underneath me should I find myself sexually aroused." Shiro tilted his head at this statement, then commented to his master in the Demon Tongue. The two conversed for a moment or two too rapidly for Grimmjow to follow (he only understood the Demon Tongue if it was spoken somewhat slowly, as it took some effort for his demon blood to translate it into his native Manir) and then he was suddenly being caressed from behind by another set of warm hands. "Who's to say we would mind sharing your bed, underneath you or not?"

"I-Ichigo! I just don't want th-the spell to-"

"We are demons of the highest Noble rank, Grimmjow...no puny human spell can force us to do what we do not already desire, binding contract or no. It can influence us, yes, and for certain restrictions make us deathly ill or possibly kill us, but it cannot compel us to do anything we truly do not want to."

"Mmmm, King, I can feel the spell pull already. I think we arouse him."

"A-ah!"

"Oh yes, Shiro, I think we do. Do you mind magicking his clothes off? My hands are a little busy." Teeth bit at an exposed neck. "Make that sound again, Grimmjow. We liked it."

"Grrrrowwwl!"

"Oh fuck…do that one again, Grimmjow-sama, I liked that one even more~"

"Do you think we can bring out the animal in him, my dear servant?"

"Ahhh! I think we already d-did, King, if his biting tendency is an-anything to go by. Oh L'kik˚!

(Purrpurrpurrpurr) A tail flicked, arousal and pleasure practically radiating with every movement. Then someone pounced.

Much, much later (say about three days) Ichigo and Shiro were laid out in bed, totally exhausted, and Grimmjow had just finished cleaning them up…the feline way. Licking the last few drops of somebody's release from where it had splattered his shoulder (there was no way of telling whose it was with all the different positions and combinations they'd tried) Grimmjow finally voiced a question that had been nagging from the back of his sex-hazed mind. "Hey Shiro, why do you always call Ichigo King? Doesn't the Demon King take offense to that?" The two demons, tired as they were, shared an amused look that made Grimmjow suddenly wary. "Of course he doesn't," Ichigo told him gently, "you're looking at him." Grimmjow blinked. "You mean to tell me I just fucked the Demon King and his First Servant fifty ways from Sunsday?" They nodded, and Grimmjow began to grin, his eyes starting to glint. His tail started to flick from side to side, and Ichigo could feel that motion exciting him again. "Well then, I suppose that makes me your unofficial consort for the moment…which gives me full rights, full responsibility, to fuck both of you fifty ways from Sunsday…" he kissed along first one lightly sweating neck, then the other, "and Mostday, Truthsday, Wetsday, Thirstday, Firesday, and Sultsday… so I'd better get to it." Both demons groaned as their beautiful halfbreed did exactly that- they'd be so sore after this none of them would be able to leave the bed for a week.

Footnotes:

1. Mil de fiesh kamá: Manir thief-tongue, it is one of the highest insults that can be used; rough translation is "Son of the Devil's whore" and literal translation is "sons of bitches and whores birthed by devils". Devils and Demons are very different classifications and Devils are lower in intelligence but more vicious than even the lowest Lesser Demon, making them the evilest creatures known to Human or Demonkind.

2. Loy-toy: Manir dialect for "love toy", common usage slang for servants or slaves forced to give their Master or employer sexual favors against their will, sometimes called "living play-toys".

3. L'kik's Hellfire: strong oath, as it has been said that all levels of Hell and the palace of hell were forged in the Hellfire of L'kik, making them the holiest and most indestructible structures in either dimension, which is why the Demon Courts are held in the Palace of Hell and criminals are subjected to the lower and deeper levels of Hell for holding.

. ˘L'kik-Terram: the dimension existing alongside the Human Earth and more informally known as the Demon Plane, often called Hell even though Hell is only one small part of the plane.

.˚ L'kik: The King of the Gods in both dimensions and ruler of everything that has ever been created; the holiest of Gods and said to be the creator of all things.

Prayer (Rider universe, sequel to Rider)

It had been a prayer and that was all he had thought it was. How could he have known that the Gods were listening? Still, he was glad they had been, or he would be dead now instead of being carried home by a mountain of a man with scars all over his body. He snuggled deeper into the warm, safe-feeling arms and thanked Zangestu, the forgotten Lord of Horses and God of the Sea, for his saviors. He'd been minding his own business when he heard someone cry for help from the direction of the bull pens. Thinking that perhaps a bull had broken free and gored or trampled someone, he had rushed to help and found nothing save for a one-eyed weasel outside the pens. Uncertain if someone was trapped inside the pens, he went to the fence to go look when suddenly somebody had jumped him from behind. At that point he started running on pure instinct. Roaring his displeasure he threw himself backwards with all the considerable force he could muster and crushed the other body's torso beneath his weight, startling the person and forcing them to let go. Leaping up he whirled with a growl of challenge, his upper lip curling back to bare his teeth, wolf-like. The man was all length and no breadth, built like a rail and about as skinny as one too, but he looked to have some power in his muscles. Snarling, they leapt at each other, Ichigo using every dirty trick and smooth move he'd acquired through his years and the other man apparently doing the same. There would be no holding back here. Ichigo didn't know this man or why he'd jumped him out of seemingly nowhere, but right now he didn't give a shit. Spitting out blood from where he'd bitten the stick-man's arm, he slammed his knees into his opponent's vulnerable stomach as they grappled. Breaking apart, they eyed each other.

If there's a god of fistfights, ya'd better lend me strength here- this guy gives me chills like my last boyfriend, Byakuya. If yer listenin', help me win. Then Ichigo curled his lip again and they were back at it, but he was losing like he hadn't lost in ages- it was like this guy healed as fast as he could hurt him and was drawing extra strength from an outside source. They roared, bit, clawed, kicked, generally fought like a pair of lions fighting for territory. He was losing badly, was almost entirely overpowered by the stranger, when suddenly out of nowhere came a massive man, barreling into the stranger and knocking him off with a deadly-sounding snarl that rivaled that of a real wolf. Two others quickly joined the massive male, one that looked albino hissing as he attempted to claw the stick-man's eyes out and a blue-haired man that roared as he raked vicious nails down a lily-white throat and chest. All seemed to particularly hate the other stranger, and under their combined assault he wailed, ripped free, and fled, the three chasing him to the edge of the property and warning him not to return if he wanted to keep his life. Then they returned to Ichigo, all of them fussing over him and seeming to be extremely concerned despite being strangers to him. Despite bleeding all over the place and aching like he'd been trampled by a bull, he insisted he was fine and started to get up only to have his right leg collapse underneath him. This resulted in him being carried in the arms of the biggest man towards the ranch doctor's office while the other two fussed over him like mother hens.

Settling down into the big stranger's hold more comfortably, he closed his eyes and burrowed into his chest, mumbling another prayer to a god he couldn't even name that was thanks for the help. Slipping into unconsciousness already, he almost missed the voice that rumbled through the chest he lay against. "Yer welcome." The last thing he felt before passing out was someone lovingly tucking his own arm around him and nuzzling his hair.

Promise (Romance Universe, set after 'Fight')

Yawning like a lion satisfied with his lot, or so Jackal always called his huge, self-satisfied yawns, Ichigo cat-stretched in bed. Jackal rose and did the same beside him, the pair purring at each other in what had become their morning ritual. Getting out of bed, Ichigo changed into clean boxers and got dressed, reminding his protesting teenager that they had made plans for the day when the younger whined about the early hour (even though it was almost eleven in the morning). At the mention of their plans to go to the concert of the teen's favorite band, called "Pantera", the blue-haired boy jumped into his routine. Ichigo couldn't help laughing at him. As he watched his charge fairly dance around the room, he neglected to mention what he had realized the first time Jackal had come to him, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, the single "Pantera" cd in his hand and a look of absolute awe on his face. Pantera had been the name of a cat, and later a car (jaguar, of course) owned by a man with cotton-candy-blue hair that went by the name of Grimmjow Jaggerjack. The boy would find out for himself later. They dressed for the occasion- silver spikes and leather, a little gel in their hair, makeup markings and lipstick. Then it was time and after a drive that was a blur they were there, and after only moments the concert was happening and when Jackal saw the blue hair of the lead singer and guitarist he just stared with his mouth open and Ichigo watched from the bar with a smile hidden behind his glass.

It was worth the pain of seeing Grimmjow again to see that expression on his son's face as he realized exactly who his favorite singer was. Still, his heart ached at seeing his former lover since he'd never quite managed to fall out of love with him. He was dying slowly inside, ripping his heart apart, and they weren't even halfway through the show yet. It was oh-so-tempting to take a few shots of tequila, his liquid courage, but chances were if he did he'd wake up in the bed in Grimmjow's bus and have to make a quick getaway. He already had enough regrets; he didn't want to add to them 'slept with the ex I'm still in love with but will never have again'. Maybe the whiskey- no, no, whiskey always made him do crazy shit in public so he'd do something like dance on the bar, catching Grimmjow eye, and it would be the same problem as with the tequila. He didn't want to have regrets and embarrass himself either. Which liquor was it that made him suitably hazy but didn't jack him up again? He knew there was one, if he could just remember what it was- oh right, it was rum! Spiced rum always made him warm inside and sleepy so it didn't jack him up like other liquors but it still got him drunk. He ordered some Captain Morgan on the rocks and sipped it cautiously as he watched his boy worship his biological father for his musical ability along with the rest of the rioting crowd. It was good, so god, to see him acting like a normal teenager, hard at work worshipping his music idol.

True to his nature and his father, Jackal created more than a small riot- he nearly caused a stampede and he managed to damage or destroy almost two thousand dollars worth of equipment. As he was being escorted out by security, the band's attention was drawn to him and the racket he was making. To Grimmjow's surprise, he witnessed a head of extremely orange hair fighting through the crowd to reach the blue-haired youth. Then, he heard it- above the crowd, above the music, above the pounding of his own heart in his ears; "Unhand my son this goddamn instant! Jackal Kurosaki, what in the fucking hell do you think you're doing? Let go of that security guard or so help me-" The boy immediately settled, hastening to soothe his riled father. "Shit, shit, sorry pops, I didn't mean to, I promise! C'mon, leggo, ya don't know how scary Ichigo Kurosaki can be when ya fuck with me." Watching Ichigo, his Ichigo, sling the boy (who looked almost exactly like a younger Grimmjow minus the scars) over his shoulder and carry him off made his knees go weak and his blood boil. That ought to be him being carried off like a maiden to be ravaged on that strong shoulder; it would've been him if he hadn't been such a stupid prick. Knowing he wouldn't be able to follow after them for another hour at least, he growled and watched Ichigo walk out of his life for a second time. He prayed to God there'd never be a third, because this time he was smart enough to chase after him.

In the car, and with Jackal driving because Ichigo was still rather buzzed, they were finally coming down off their adrenaline highs enough that Jackal gave his old man a few glancing looks. "Oi, pops…you knew, didn't ya?" The doctor nodded solemnly, fighting not to giggle. It was a serious moment and serious moments weren't for giggling. "Of course. He named all his favourite things Pantera, y'know. I couldn't have missed it if I tried." Jackal swallowed hard, his hands flexing on the wheel. "Then why did ya let me talk ya inta comin'? I know it musta hurt ya ta come and see him again- ya still call fer him in yer sleep on the bad nights." The older waved his hand dismissively. "Only on the bad ones, and that's irrelevant. I promised myself and you I'd give you the best adolescence I could, with all the normal teenager things, and this is one of them. I don't break my promises." Jackal couldn't help his frown. "Well then try not to hurt yerself doin' it anymore, okay, Dad?" Ichigo laughed, deep and from the gut. "Sure, Jack, I'll try. I promise."