Closer
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Rukia realizes somewhat belatedly that the fur-lined hoods, thick trench coats and winter boots are not just a stylistic choice or a matter of aesthetics for the Sternritters. The Wandenreich city is freezing and heavily glazed under a layer of ice so thick that she wonders if it would ever melt in the hottest of summer months. Her breaths come out in puffs of white smoke and her teeth chatter. Her wrists chafe against the cold metal that binds her to Ichigo and in the cold; she swears she can barely feel her fingers. The tremor in her body is unmistakable the further they wander into the city.
Ichigo seems to take note of that, coming to a stop once they enter the frozen city. Setting her on her feet, he eyes her shivering body with a frown, scowling when he realizes that blood is seeping from some of her wounds. In the heat of the battle, he has not noticed them but it is clear to him now that his little Shinigami was involved in other skirmishes and won before she faced off against him. He respects strength and Rukia, despite her apple cheeks and petite stature, has showed him that she is anything but helpless on the battlefield.
At the brush of his finger against the wound on her arm, she winces, jumping in surprise, hissing at the sting while glaring at him. She reminds him of a stray cat like that, mean and feral with her back arched and fur standing at her encounter with a human for the first time. With time and the right touch, she can be tamed and taught to appreciate his touch. He doesn't resist the urge to tease as he slips off his fur-lined cloak and drapes it over her instead.
"You Shinigamis are more delicate than I realized."
Rukia doesn't retort. She stands still and heaves a sigh of contentment as he fastens the clasp of the cloak, letting the residual heat from his body warmth wash over her. The calf-length cloak is three sizes too big for her and sweeps at the ground from where she stands.
"Aren't you going to try and make a run for it?" he asks, cocking an eyebrow at her.
A red flush seeps into her cheeks and she tells him hotly, "I am not an idiot! I am injured and it's freezing here. Even if I were to run, you'd just end up catching me again."
The cold is a good deterrent. She is not dressed for her surroundings. It would be suicidal for her to run away from her captor in this state. Her toes are so numb she doesn't think she would get far. The outcome would be as she has imagined and this time Ichigo might not be in as charitable a mood. Besides, Rukia casts a longing look at the katana in his hand and frowns- he is holding Shirayuki captive and she does not have it in her to leave a piece of her soul behind.
"You are a smart little thing, aren't you?"
Rukia scowls at his condescending tone but Ichigo merely laughs, thinking that she looks too adorable for words with her puffed up cheeks and tiny figure all swaddled up in his clothes. He quickly takes her back into his arms, noting the lack of resistance with an amused smirk. She is still much too cold for her liking and readily burrows herself deeper into his arms in search of warmth, curling into a ball as she tucks her head into the crook in his shoulders- meek and pliable, her claws sheathed for now.
He grins, "Hang in there. We're not too far from Silbern now. Let's take a nice hot bath together once we're there. How does that sound?"
Rukia has a retort sitting just at the tip of her tongue. It is acerbic and bitter; something along the lines of 'in your dreams!' and 'I hope you drown in it!', but Ichigo radiates heat. He is as warm as a furnace in the frigid cold. His body warmth surrounds her, his scent blanketing her as he cradles her against his chest.
The adrenaline from earlier is wearing off. She is weak and tired from the cold and from the energy exhausted during the fights and constant running. Her eyelids droop; heavy with sleep and her limbs feel like lead. Lulled by the sound of his steady heartbeat, she finally allows herself to succumb to exhaustion and nods off.
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A soft nudge at her cheeks rouses her. When she comes to, it is Ichigo's face that looms in front of her. He is close enough for her to see the amber flecks in his eyes. The tip of his nose is cold as he nuzzles at her and she is quietly struck dumb at the soft curve of his lips under the natural light, the tenderness in his voice that she is sure she is imagining due to sleep deprivation.
Rukia blinks blearily at her surroundings, wincing at how it's suddenly brighter as she raises her head up weakly. She hates him for how well-rested and unaffected he looks despite the cold.
"Where are we?"
Ichigo's answer is smug and not without pride as he adjusts his grip on her, allowing her to take in the full majesty of the tiered building- bleach-white and covered in sheets of ice. The ice-encrusted citadel glimmers in the light as sunlight reflects off the many panels of fractal ice crystals. Ice is as beautiful as it is unforgiving. As an ice-type zanpakutou wielder, Rukia knows this better than anyone else but Silbern is a law unto itself. It seems to personify the very nature of the element: beautiful from afar but upon closer inspection, nothing but a bed of deadly jagged stalagmites. Ice seeps warmth. It is cruel and under its glacial surfaces, nothing grows.
The two tusk-shaped structures that frame the citadel arch towards each other with their tips almost touching, eerily reminding Rukia of a demon's curving horns; the large, rectangular tower with a cross on each side rising up behind it, like a giant headstone overlooking them all. There is a foreboding feel to the place that even birds fear to linger or trill. So, this is the base of operations for Yhwach and his Sternritters. It is almost fitting, she thinks. The Wandenreich city is nothing but a frozen and barren wasteland, and their crowning jewel- this monster that Ichigo is so proud of—
"This is Silbern. We're home."
— feels like mausoleum.
"What do you think?"
Rukia gulps at the expectant look on Ichigo's face but her reply is interrupted by the sudden appearance of a trio heading out from the citadel as they are going in. They are garbed in white hooded cloaks, walking with their heads held high and a distinctly military stance to the set of their shoulder as the ends of their cloaks billow softly in the wind.
There is an air of superiority to them. She sees it in the way they carry themselves and the red rune mark on their cloaks that she has not seen on any other Sternritter. Whoever they are, they must be high-ranking and important people in the Wandenreich hierarchy.
Rukia stiffens in Ichigo's arms, feeling her hackles rising as they draw close. But Ichigo doesn't even flinch at their approach. At the sound of their greeting, he doesn't answer in kind but merely inclines his head forward to nod at them.
A tall, hulking blonde is the first to break away from the trio as he approaches Ichigo with familiarity. Light reflects off the metal of his winged helmet and his booming voice carries itself well across the distance.
Rukia winces as his metal gauntlets make contact with Ichigo's back but Ichigo doesn't so much as grunt at the impact. Up close, the blonde is even more intimidating. Broad-chested and built like a tank, he looks like he might just snap her into two with a snap of his fingers. She can feel the smile on his face faltering as he catches sight of her in Ichigo's arms.
His disapproval is evident in the turn of his lips and she can feel the spike in killing intent radiating from him. Rukia readies herself, gathering her reiryouku in preparation for a Shakkahou. Shirayuki may be missing from her grasp but the Shinigami in her is itching for a fight. She will show them just how deadly a Shinigami can be or die trying anyways.
"Gerard, stop it! This Shinigami is mine. Back off!"
Her eyes snap to Ichigo who sends out a flare of reiatsu- menacing and frighteningly intense, in warning. He is strong and the sheer power of it rivals that of a Captain-level Shinigami or perhaps even greater than that. If all the Sternritters are as powerful as he is- Rukia digs her nails hard into her palms. She fears that the war for the three realms may be over before it even begins. Gerard's hand is still reaching for his weapon by his side, reluctant to stand down until Ichigo barks out- sharp and angry.
"I said, back the fuck off!"
Ichigo's grip on her tightens. The muscleman scowls but obeys nonetheless, straightening himself to look Ichigo in the eye. His animosity for her still runs deep but he leashes it somewhat under Ichigo's withering glare.
"The All Father will not be pleased," says Gerard as his hand leaves the hilt of Hoffnug, "Jugram was looking for you earlier."
"That's between me and the All Father. Either way, not something you should concern yourself with," replies Ichigo coolly, shifting his hold on Rukia so she is now pressed fully against him, "I will speak to Jugram later. There is something else that I must attend to first."
By then, his comrades- a dark-skinned man with short white hair and the other, a man of medium height with greasy hair and shifty-looking eyes, have caught up with him, mirroring the same look of disbelief and disgust at the sight of her, but Ichigo silences their hate with a mere look.
"I am only saying this once: Rukia is mine and off-limits. Hands off or I will cut them off and feed them to you, one fucking finger at a time!"
He doesn't offer another word of explanation as he stalks past them with her in tow. Rukia's gaze lingers at their retreating figures and the hate-filled glares they direct at her. There is no love lost there and she has little doubt that they would have killed her, tore her apart limb by limb, if Ichigo wasn't there.
The alarm bells are ringing in her head as she begins to see the man who is holding her captive in a new and different light. Things are not adding up. The way Gerard seems to defer to him and obey him- just who in the world is Ichigo and why would a high-ranking Sternritter tolerate such blatant disrespect from him?
Just how high up the hierarchy is he?
She has too many questions and Ichigo seems determined to keep his secrets as he carries her deeper and deeper into the citadel.
.
"Let it go."
Lille- tall, dark and striking, is the last to recover from his shock, only looking up at the feel of cool metal resting on his shoulders. His eyebrows are knotted as he looks at Gerard. He does not understand. As a Sternritter, they are all creations of the All Father. To think that a Sternritter would willingly sully himself by associating with the filth that is Shinigami, going so far as to lay with it and threaten them over it—
He clenches his fist. This is all a slap to the All Father's face. Unforgivable!
But Gerard's hold on his shoulder is firm as the blonde tells him yet again to let it go.
"I can't, Gerard! That thing is setting foot inside the All Father's palace, breathing the same air as us. I can't— This is not right!"
It verges on bestiality. He can't stomach the idea of whatever Ichigo is trying to do with that Shinigami woman. She is wearing a Sternritter cloak and from what he can see, her black robes are torn and dirty underneath it. Lille has no illusion about what happened between man and woman, especially on the battlefield where the lust for blood tiptoes a fine line for a primal lust for something more filling and the ring of metal against metal isn't nearly as fulfilling as the slip and slide of hot skin. But all Shinigamis are pests and beneath them. They should be exterminated, unfeelingly and without mercy, as decreed by His Majesty.
It is bad enough that he fucked the Shinigami. Now he seeks to bring that creature into their midst and treat it with care? Ichigo has fallen and as the leader of the Schutzstaffel, Lille cannot let it go. This is a stain that must be removed at all cost!
"Let others take care of it," says Gerard sagely to the angry man, "Jugram will set him straight even if the All Father won't. We shouldn't interfere. We must trust the All Father. Ichigo- Remember who he is, Lille; we don't want to cross lines that He set."
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Rukia can barely tell where they are heading. The inside of Silbern is a maze and she gives up by the seventh corridor they pass, noting with bitterness that her plans for an escape may be even more impossible than she believed them to be. The corridors are all the same; impossible to tell one apart from the other. Every turn they take only leads them to another corridor that is identical from the last. The walls are all the same shade of macabre white, stripped and devoid of any adornments. There is barely any presence of life and they pass no one as they wander down a labyrinth of the halls and corridors.
Thankfully, Ichigo seems to know where he is going. He takes the stairs two at a time until he reaches what seems to be a set of double doors- which like all things in this godforsaken place is painted white and nearly indistinguishable from the walls.
At his slight push, they swing open, revealing a large room- a lounge with a roaring fire at the fireplace, tastefully decorated with plush chaises, burgundy throws and soft-looking pillows on them. It all looks so warm and inviting that Rukia would love nothing more than to sink into the plush cushions and just lay there, throwing a blanket over herself- all wrapped up from the cold as she falls into a deep sleep, and when she wakes up, this would all just be a bad dream.
There is an open kitchen not too far away. It looks like something that she would have seen from a magazine in the Human World- a Western layout, sleek lines, polished silver, surprisingly modern and fitted with what seems to be functioning set of stoves, oven, amenities that include a toaster of all things. The kitchen island gleams with cleanliness. A set of kitchen knives are out in the open, sitting in plain sight. Rukia counts an impressive six including a meat cleaver that is resting on a wooden chopping board. She carefully files the information away at the back of her mind.
Nothing holds her interest more than the platter of fresh fruits- the redness of the apples, purple and green grapes that glisten with ripeness. Her stomach makes a sound of protest while her mouth waters. She can't even remember the last time she ate, but she forces herself to look away before Ichigo notices her stares. She can't have him using her hunger against her and with that, she schools her expression into the Kuchiki-approved look of disinterest.
Ichigo's boots barely squeak as he walks across the hardwood flooring and leaves Shirayuki on the kitchen island. Rukia's gaze trails after it longingly. Distracted, she barely notices it when Ichigo makes a swift turn to the left, shutting the door behind them with a soft click.
The new room is dimly-lit, humid and warm. The air smells faintly of lavender and bergamot. Rows of white votive candles flicker and wane in glass and crystal candleholders set on shelves that seem to be carved into the back wall, while a few more are arranged around the washbasin. The bath tub by the wall is big enough to fit two. The edges of it are gleaming white, so much so that it sparkles. The setting to the bathroom is luxurious right down to the white fluffy towels that sit neatly folded on the marble countertop beside the washbasin.
It takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the new lighting. Ichigo sets her down gingerly after he removes her waraji sandals and white socks for her. The bathroom tiles under her aching bare feet are cool and dry. She takes three hesitant steps towards the washbasin, staring at her own reflection in the mirror that hangs above it.
A woman with dirt-smudged cheeks and haunted eyes stare back at her. The whiteness of Ichigo's cloak stands out on her- pure, untouched; so out of place from her dishevelled self and her own clothes that are torn and bloodied underneath it. The black chains on her have disappeared just as quickly as they appeared, barely leaving a mark on her skin but she rubs at her wrists all the same.
It feels surreal. She was out there on the battlefield, risking her life and fighting a war- her comrades and friends dropping like flies around her, merely hours ago. Yet now, she is behind enemy lines, alive and standing in the middle of bathroom so opulent and luxurious, being kept as someone's pet.
She panics when she hears the rustling of clothes. But by the time she whirls around, she can barely speak, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of Ichigo. His beauty is a raw and terrible thing. Broad-shouldered and stripped naked, Rukia learns that though Ichigo is lean, the cords of muscles on him are well-defined and rippling with power in the low light. There are healed cuts and curved scars on his body that hints of a past that is not as clean-cut as she thinks; badges of honour that gives justification to the Sternritters' behaviour towards him. Her eyes follow the bob in his Adam's apple, slipping lower to the wispy trail of ginger hair that goes lower and lower still until she sees his cock, hanging at half-mast against his thighs.
The difference in size between them is easily apparent. Ichigo towers over her, picks her up like she is his personal ragdoll and weightless to him. His cock is big and thick enough that she can't help but wonder if she can wrap her hand fully around it. She is not so naïve as to be blind to his intentions towards her, to what they might do to their enemies that they spare on the battlefield. She may not be experienced but she is not blind to what happens between a man and a woman in the bedroom. The mechanics of sex are simple enough, but in their case, she doesn't think it would fit.
"See something that you like?"
Rukia's face colours, snapping back to reality; horrified that she has been caught staring. She feels his arousal growing as he approaches her with carnal hunger in his eyes. She gulps, taking a step back only to hiss as her back hits the edge of the countertop. At the feel of his callused fingers tugging at the clasp on the cloak, she stutters, trying to push his hand away.
"I-I can do it myself."
He chuckles, "What makes you think you have a choice?"
His eyes are liquid gold as he cups at her jaw, sliding his fingers into her hair while the other presses against the small of her back as he brings her closer. The cloak pools to the floor with a tug and the rest of her clothes- already falling apart at the seams to begin with, are easily removable and soon follow. Under his hungry gaze, Rukia tries somewhat unsuccessfully to cover herself but Ichigo wouldn't let her. He lets his gaze linger for a second longer on her mulberry-tinged nipples, the tapering in her waist before it flares to her hips, the bed of black curls at her sex.
His grasp on her wrist is firm but gentle as he easily gathers her up into his arms and deposits her into the tub. The coolness of the porcelain tub does nothing to sooth her. The anxiety in her is palpable as Ichigo climbs in after her. She keeps her eyes on him- distrust evident in them but Ichigo only pulls her closer- her back to his front, seating her between his legs and caging her in with his larger body. Rukia's hands clench at the edge of the tub.
"Relax," he tells her with his voice soft and soothing. Rukia flinches at his touch on her knuckles but he perseveres and firmly pries her fingers off it, pressing them on his knees instead with a press of his lips to the top of her shoulders, "You can trust me. I don't want to hurt you, Rukia. I just want to make you feel good."
Ichigo reaches over her to grab at the silver hose attached to the hand-held showerhead and turns the water on. Hot water hisses and steam rises, fogging up the mirror. He tests the temperature of the water on himself before he puts it on her.
Despite her best efforts to show nothing but disdain and disinterest in his actions, Rukia can't help but moan at the lap of hot water against her tired muscles, her toes curling at how the ache and tightness in her body seems to evaporate under the run of water. There is a sound of a bottle being squeezed, something citrusy and minty in the air before Ichigo turns his attention back to her.
"Let's get you cleaned up," he whispers with a gentle scrape of his teeth at her ear lobes and a press of his lips to the back of her neck as he massages the shampoo into her hair, nails lightly scrapping against her scalp. It is not fair what he is doing to her. This is what lovers do to each other and she shouldn't be giving in to him. But as the water rivulets run down her back, Rukia shuts her eyes. She doesn't want to fight what he is doing. It is hard to keep her guard up when he is being so careful with her. It feels so wonderful to be cared for, to be tended to in this way.
He pushes her wet hair to the side and mindful of the soap suds getting into her eyes as he rinses the shampoo off her hair. She turns her head to look back at him and feels heat flooding the cheeks, suddenly shy with the intensity showing on his face. The look on Ichigo's face is one of determination and he is so focused on her and her pleasure, devoted to making her feel good in his arms. His touch is tender and light as he tends to her wounded body next, sponging lightly with a soft cloth to scrub the dirt and dried blood off. He takes care to soothe the sting of the soap on her wounds with his kisses.
"Does this feel good to you?"
Rukia can do nothing more than nod as hot breath fans her cheeks. If she were a weaker woman, she thinks she would have cried.
"Good," Ichigo says, nuzzling at her wet skin, his large hands cupping at her breasts as he presses himself and his arousal against her. Rukia's breathing hitches, her mind suddenly taking a perverse turn, wondering how it would feel with his cock filling her, stretching her out, more so as his kisses trail down her throat. This is wrong, she thinks as she shakes those thoughts away. She knows she shouldn't but—
"Because I am about to make you feel even better."
Rukia bolts upright, slapping a hand to her mouth to muffle her moans at the sudden intrusion of his fingers. Ichigo stuffs his callused fingers into her moist heat without warning. They rub at her clit, pleasuring her. Rukia's reaction is primal as she instinctively buckles her hips at them, weak for how they fill her up and stroke at her folds.
"Nngghh- I-Ichi-Go!"
She is so wet- in more ways than one and it is embarrassing to feel her arousal, her walls clenching tight at his fingers and the squelch of her needy sex as they become coated in her slick. The curl of his fingers inside of her as they rub and tease at her feels so good. She feels hot and feverish, caught in a trance and entirely too far gone to care as she brings her hands to pinch and tug at her nipples until they pebble.
"Ah—"
She gives a cry of pleasure, throwing her head back to rest her full weight against Ichigo as a gentle stream of water shoots at her swollen clit. Her body jerks but Ichigo holds her in place. He grins as his fingers slip in between the streams of water, stroking her while the water hits her clit. He experiments with the angle of the stream, playing with the settings as he watches her reactions, paying attention to when her breath catches to know what she likes and what she doesn't.
"Just like that, Rukia. You feel so wet and tight. Such a good little Shinigami, so eager to please her master," Ichigo coos, sharp teeth nipping lightly at her flushed skin as his hands grab at the back of her knee, spreading her legs apart so his fingers can slot themselves deeper and fuller inside of her. He knows that he can be so good to her and take care of all her needs. By the time he is done, she wouldn't even dream of leaving his side.
Rukia is strangely pliable through the haze of pleasure that Ichigo brings. She doesn't resist his touch but hitches her legs higher over his hips. She needs more, she thinks as her hand leaves the perch on his knees to wraps itself around his wrist, guiding him deeper inside of her so he can touch her just the way she needs to be touched.
Ichigo curls his lips. He likes watching her. He feels himself getting painfully hard just by the sight of her face contorting in pleasure. Her worries and animosity melt away as the pursuit of her own release overtakes them. It makes for an erotic sight to see her violet eyes half-shut in mindless haze. The grip she keeps on his wrist to hold him in place as she chases her high is near-bruising while the other plays at her nipples, tweaking them until they strain. Soft breathless mewls slip out between choked moans of his name and his male pride swells.
Ichigo knows she is close, feels it as her walls clamp tight against his fingers and with a loud scream, she falls apart for him. Her legs are still twitching when she comes to while he busies himself by peppering kisses at her throat.
She is panting and her face adorably flushed when she feels his stiff cock pressing against her back. Ichigo takes the opportunity to steal a kiss from her lips, liking how she is too busy trying to catch her breath to resist him.
"D-Do you want to—" she gulps, suddenly shy now that the bliss of the orgasm has left her system– "Y-You didn't come and you're still hard."
He chuckles, tucking the stray bang behind her ears as he teases, "Do you want me to?"
Her silence is telling and he says nothing more on the matter as he wraps one arm around her, kissing her soundly on her cheeks while the other touches himself, stroking his length. He groans out her name in need. Rukia stiffens at the lewd noises that he is making, determined to keep her eyes fixed on the shower tiles in front of her. Her nipples are still hard and pebbled. The Sternritter is a bad influence on her. All she can think about is how easy it would be for her to just reach out behind her and wrap her hand around his cock- swollen and red at the tip, pre-cum leaking from it.
Maybe there is a part of her that wants to touch him, wants to do for him what he did to her and—
.
"Ruki-AH—"
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The sound of his heavy groans stills her from her daydreams. He jerks himself off, climaxing with a shudder as he buries his face in her wet hair. Her chest tightens. A spurt of something wet hits her back and she tries hard to curb her dangerous thoughts. She fights to keep her reactions checked when Ichigo presses more kisses to her shoulders, running water down her back and between her legs. He keeps her close and melded to him even as he washes himself, cleaning the muck of battle and the evidence of his messy release.
They stay under the water for a little while longer. Ichigo is the first to step out as he twists the faucet off. Water beads down the lines on his back and Rukia can do nothing but stare as he dries himself in front of her. He wraps a clean towel around his waist and reaches for her again, scooping her out of the tub.
"I-I can walk by myself!"
Rukia's eyebrows are furrowed as he sets her on the edge of the tub, towelling her hair dry for her. She is far from an invalid and wary of how kind Ichigo is to her. She can't let herself forget that he is the enemy. There are still so many things about him that she doesn't know and he is already too bewitching to her senses.
Ichigo is dangerous.
"I just don't want you to slip and hurt yourself," he says quietly as he presses the towel into her hands, "Wait here. I'll go get the first aid kit."
Rukia hardens her heart, telling herself that she doesn't feel anything at all when his touch leaves her. This is just the way it should be between them. The thing that just happened between them, must never happen again.
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By the time Ichigo emerges with the kit and a tunic, her shoulder-length hair is almost dry. He is half-dressed with snug trousers hugging his hips, naked from the chest up with a towel hanging from his shoulders. Rukia feels a bit more like herself again, more like a Shinigami- in control and grounded in her new reality. She has made herself somewhat presentable, covering her privates with the towel he used to dry her hair.
If Ichigo notices any change in her, he says nothing. His frown is deep-set as he dabs at her wounds with antiseptics and puts on clean dressings for her. Tears prick at her eyes at the sting but she resolutely keeps her eyes open, determined to keep them at bay. No more weaknesses- especially not in front of Ichigo.
"We'll need to get you new clothes but for now, just put this on. It should fit."
Rukia hastily shrugs the borrowed shirt on, grateful for the chance to not be naked and on display for him. The cotton shirt is well-worn and smells just like him. It is still comically large on her, coming down to her knees and she wears it like a dress. Ichigo's amusement is evident in the curve of his lips and Rukia scowls, daring him to say something about her state of clothes. It is after all, his fault that she is even in this mess to begin with.
He leads her out of the bathroom and Rukia makes a beeline for the kitchen island, from when she saw Shirayuki last. But the sword is nowhere to be found. It would have been too easy of course.
She snaps at him, "What did you do with Shirayuki? Where is my zanpakutou?"
Shirayuki is the only thing that ties her to her Shinigami identity in this place. It is her only source of comfort. She cannot allow it to be taken from her.
"Give her back!"
Her fingers find themselves at the handle of the meat cleaver, pointing it at Ichigo as she demands him to return her sword. She hates how her voice is on the verge of breaking but it hurts her pride more to see him sigh, ignoring her demands as he tries to talk her down.
"Calm down, Rukia. You don't want to do this. Put the knife down before you hurt yourself."
"Who are you?" she asks instead. She is angry at how he is using her name so casually. He has no right to! No, she refuses to listen to any more of his lies. The Sternritters are all cut from the same cloth. They are all the same and they want only one thing from her- her submission.
Ichigo gives an exasperated sigh, "I told you. My name is Kurosaki Ichigo."
She scowls. That name means nothing to her. "What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?"
A normal Sternritter would have killed her off then and there. Shinigamis are filth and deserve to die. She reads it in their glares and knows it to be true but Ichigo has a different streak of sadism in him that runs deep. He is holding her captive, wanting to break her spirits before he ruins her. Well, Rukia has had enough of his little charade. She won't play house with him and feed his twisted delusions any longer.
She charges with her knife but Ichigo is already waiting for her. He sees her attack coming from miles away and easily disarms her, wrenching the knife away from her tight grip. Pinning her body to the ground, his hands wrap themselves around her wrists, holding them above her head while his thighs bracket her hips.
Rukia swallows thickly as he grinds himself against her. She hates how her body flares and tingles warm at the press of their bodies. The shirt she has on is so thin- she may as well be naked underneath him. Her nipples are hard again and it peaks against the cotton material at the sight of his scowl. It is dark and vicious, and it makes her blood boil.
His face dips low and she hisses as his hot mouth envelops her straining tips through the cotton, pink tongue swirling around her areola, teeth scraping against the rosebuds. She is growing wet again and whimpers as she rubs her thighs together to alleviate the ache between her legs. It wouldn't take much for him to push the shirt up and have his way with her.
There is a dark thrill that courses through her veins at the thought and she thinks it is the same for him as the grip on her wrists tightens. Ichigo's mouth leaves her nipples, leaving behind two damp spots on her shirt as he meets her gaze. His pupils are rings of dark burnished gold and Rukia sees herself reflected in them- an unhinged woman, hair wild and eyes even wilder.
This- this is what he reduces her to.
"Believe it or not, I am one of the nice guys around here. Giselle wouldn't hesitate to turn you into one of her little zombies and Äs Nödt- the sadistic prick would love to see you get eaten alive by your own fear. But that doesn't mean you get to pull shit like you did with me. You do not want to get on my bad side, Rukia," he growls.
The kiss he presses to her lips is bruising. He wants to punish her for acting out but Rukia is determined not to go quietly. She is not meek and she has been feigning her obedience for far too long. She has wildness running through her veins, a side to her that is near feral. She craves violence- or at least, there is a part of her that doesn't shy away from it. Ichigo has brought out this side of her - the street orphan that sleeps with one eye open, fending for herself when no one else would; the wild streak that the Kuchiki elders have tried in vain to bleed out of her. You can take the girl out of Rukongai, but you can't take the Rukongai out of her.
When Ichigo presses himself against her again, red lips hot on hers, she retaliates by nipping him on his lips. Ichigo hisses, yelping from the sudden pain, his tongue darting to lick at the blood from the cut. The glare he shoots at her burns her and she knows she is playing with fire. She is in his world now and he can easily end her, but blood stains her lips and fire rules her head. She is simply too angry to care. Mutual destruction is too tempting a thought.
"Little Shinigamis should not play with fire unless they are prepared to deal with the consequences," he growls before throwing her over his shoulders, heading towards the direction of the bedroom instead. Rukia fights him every inch of the way, kicking and biting, sharp nails leaving angry red marks down his bare back.
She won't go down without a fight.
She won't!
He asked for this. He brought her home, thinking that she would be meek and docile- the perfect pet. She will show him just how wrong he was. She is no feral kitten. Kuchiki Rukia is a hellcat and he will rue the day he ever thought she can be brought to heel.
Rukia lands on her back as Ichigo throws her onto the bed. She clambers up, fully prepared to claw him blind and bite his dick off if he tries to force himself on her, but to her surprise, Ichigo is not there.
Instead, there is a loud thud as the door slams shut and Rukia flies out of bed. She hammers her fists at the door when the handle refuses to turn, screaming at Ichigo on the other side of the door.
"Let me out!"
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Yhwach keeps his own counsel as the Sternritters before him present their case. Jugram stands at his right and knows that his patience is being tried but does nothing to intervene. His Schutzstaffel- elite bodyguards are supposed to be a cut above the rest and know better than to annoy him with their petty drama. On this occasion, they fall short off the mark and Lille in particular, is especially vocal and annoying.
"He needs to be brought into line, Your Majesty. He is out of control. A Shinigami? What happens if he decides that he wants to keep her spawns next? He—"
The doors to the throne room are slammed open, bringing the conversation to a standstill.
Speak of the devil indeed, thinks Yhwach as the man in question arrives. There is a cut to his lips, the look in his eyes dark and menacing, and his hair is even wilder than normal. The scowl on his face is vicious and the other Schutzstaffel clear off to give him a wide berth as he marches forward. He bows deep and solemn, dropping to one knee before rising at Yhwach's bidding.
"Ichigo," says Yhwach, "how good of you to join us today. Your compatriots have become quite… concerned in regards to some of your less-than orthodox behaviours."
Yhwach fixes him with a stern look, frowning. "They say that you have brought a Shinigami woman home to Silbern and that you went so far as to threaten your fellow brother-in-arms over her. Is that true?"
"Yes."
The uproar is deafening and Lille is once again screaming bloody murder about the need to keep the bloodline pure and clean. Gerard is trying in vain to restrain him, Askin is there adding fuel to fire while Pernida watches it all unfold from the shadows, with only its gleaming eyes showing. Yhwach sighs as he shares a look with Jugram. They are truly no better than squabbling children.
"Silence!"
At his command, the world is mercifully silent again. He turns to Ichigo who stands defiant and is now openly glaring at Lille and Askin and asks, "Why?"
Ichigo shrugs.
"Why not? Hollows are mindless and uncouth beasts, yet we think nothing of controlling them, granting those who may be of use to us some special privileges. Shinigamis are only marginally better and thus, deserve nothing less. If we are truly to become the new world order, All Father- we must aspire to be above the rest. Hollows, Espadas, Shinigamis, Humans- truly there is no difference between them. They merely exist to serve us and you, All Father. And when you become the Soul King," Ichigo trails off, a predatory gleam that takes after Yhwach's settles in his eyes— "all will tremble and bow before you."
Yhwach grins, leaning forward to ask, "What do you intend to do with the Shinigami woman, Ichigo?"
"I intend to keep her, All Father. She is my pet. I am a man of my word. If anyone so much as touches her, they will answer to me."
Ichigo lets loose, unleashing for the barest of a second, the pure chaos that is the swirl of reiryouku within him and the look on the faces of his Schutzstaffel is frightfully comical. Yhwach only wishes he could capture this moment in time. True, in terms of raw strength and pure power, Pernida and Gerard may give the boy a run for his money yet, but there is a reason why the Sternritters are wary of Ichigo, avoiding confrontations with him unless it is absolutely necessary.
They fear him- for a good reason. His soul sings off a complex and unnatural amalgamation of Shinigami, Quincy and the dreaded Hollow. The Quincy despises Hollows and makes a sport out of killing them yes, but Hollows are their natural enemies. To put it simply, Hollows are a virus, a disease that needs to be eradicated, the Quincy take up the call with relish, yet they have no antibodies against them. They have only managed to survive and enslave the existing population of Espadas and Hollows right now through sheer power and what they boast as a cunning mind.
But if there were to exist an Espada with enough reiatsu at his fingertips to rival that of the Soul King and pair it off with the ability of a Shinigami to fight with a zanpakutou AND a Quincy's ability to erase the existence of one's soul from existence, well- suffice to say all Quincy would have a good and valid reason to fear said entity.
The hypocrisy of it all—
He loves it!
That entity is Ichigo- his greatest creation yet. He has created the perfect weapon. With his blood, he created a monster from a simple Gemischt Quincy. Ichigo's schrift is a great and terrible mix of all the powers known to mankind, to be moulded and utilized as a tool that he sees fit. He is Yhwach's favourite, rising to the occasion at every task that Yhwach set out for him, and the Quincy King can see no reason to deny him anything.
"Who are you, my son?"
Ichigo's answering smirk is smug and maniacal as he replies, "I am Kurosaki Ichigo. I am the Anomaly, a true and humble servant of the All Father."
Yhwach rises to his feet, proudly announcing his verdict to all the occupants in the throne room, "Then rise, Kurosaki Ichigo- Crown Prince of the Wandenreich. It shall be done. You have my blessing, my son to keep her."
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Author's note:
Ah yes, it is … um… different. But this is an AU for a reason. Y'all just gonna have to roll with whatever crazy ass theory I come up with. It can't be worse than Kubo's plot holes. XD
Song inspo: Closer (Nine Inch Nails), Desire (Meg Myers)
There is an E-rated Spotify playlist for the fic. Link is in the ao3 fic under the same name.