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conjure_lassAuthor: Conjure Lass!
Title: Enemy’s Toils
Rating: R for really foul language
Pairing: Grimmichi
Warnings: Ummm…cussing for now. Eventually more.
Summary: How one moment in time can drastically change your entire outlook on life.
Author's Note: I got such a good response on this story a few months back that I decided to go ahead and expand it into a full story! I hope you all enjoy. This is a…new take on Grimmichi, but I really think I’m still maintaining their characters.
Kurosaki smelled like a fucking girl.
That was the first thought that bubbled through my head as I lay on my stomach somewhere close beside him, both of us too exhausted to move, too beaten up to speak. But at least we were alive…the same couldn’t be said for Aizen. That alone was enough to make me grin, even though the strain of doing so almost made my face hurt. Everything hurt. Everything down to my toenails. But he was dead. The man who had ruled over my life, turned me into a slave with a number, taken over my very fate; we had killed him. Finally.
I would have thanked god if I believed in that sort of thing.
“You gonna make it?” Kurosaki’s body shifted fractionally towards me, his voice strained and full of gravel. Under other circumstances it might have been sexy, but that would mean that I somehow found him attractive. And I didn’t. I didn’t find Kurosaki attractive in the least.
I opened my own eyes painfully, amazed that even my damn eyelids were sore, and peered at him. He was a wreck, torn and bloody, but he still managed to look happy. Did I look happy too? I couldn’t really tell seeing as how most of my body was numb, but I felt pretty good. Content. Was that happiness? I didn’t know.
“Do you really care?” I quipped back, feeling a bit of blood drip across my bottom lip to be caught by my waiting tongue. It tasted good, coppery and sweet, reminding me that I wasn’t dead yet. Not yet. I still had things to do. “Aren’t we supposed to be arch rivals or some shit?”
He was silent for a long minute, his face a kaleidoscope of emotions, unable to settle on one specific theme. What was he thinking? I wasn’t good enough at gauging emotions to really tell; what need did a warrior have for such crap? But he seemed to be making some sort of big decision, as though whatever he was about to say was so important to his future that it was almost frightening to express. I didn’t do fear. I said whatever came to my mind and took the consequences that came my way. Yes, you might call that stupidity. I called it tactless. Not the same thing at all.
Wait…why did I give a fuck what Kurosaki was thinking? Dammit! There he was again, tiptoeing through the private parts of my mind when I hadn’t rolled out the welcome mat. Bastard.
“Yeah I care. You saved my life.”
I blinked dumbly, wishing I had enough energy to shake my head. This kid…he made no sense. Why the fuck would you care about someone that had repeatedly tried to take your life? Why would you care about the person who had pounded your face into ground meat and left you for dead in the middle of the street? What would possess you to give a rat’s ass about your enemy? It made no sense.
Then again, I had just saved his life, so I guess I wasn’t one to talk.
“You’re an idiot.” I coughed, wincing sharply. From the pain shooting through my body, I could only assume that my lungs were coming up through my throat. Or at least that’s what it felt like. It was like every internal organ I possessed (minus my stomach naturally) was out of place…and god did I ache. I hoped that Aizen was down in Hell somewhere, getting his dick torn off over and over and over again with a salad fork. Or a screwdriver. Something painful.
Kurosaki made a concerned noise beside me and scooted a little closer, though he only managed to get about an inch and a half before he collapsed heavily, our fingertips within centimeters of touching. We stared at each other after that, me on my stomach, him on his back, and didn’t know what to say. We’d both acted out of character, we’d both done things that we probably never thought we’d do and couldn’t take back. It changed things between us, changed us forever, the dynamic of our morbid relationship altering and warping. I fucking hated it. Why couldn’t things ever stay simple?!
“Ichigo!” A female voice, contralto, yelled from somewhere close by, the sound of scuffling shoes approaching our direction. I recognized that voice. It was that one shinigami bitch I’d shoved my hand through when I first met Kurosaki. She was a pretty little thing, and her insides had been hot and sticky all over my fingers when I grabbed at her intestines. Such a lamb. The memory made me grin.
There was murmuring all around me as Kurosaki was hauled to his feet, our eyes meeting as they surrounded him, leaving me to lie on my belly in the tattered concrete. What would happen to me now? There was no way I could defend myself against so many shinigami, not in my current condition. Shamefully I felt like curling up in a ball, hiding, to somehow shield myself from view so maybe they’d overlook me. A guy could hope. Because if they didn’t I was going to die…and after all that I’d been through, I didn’t really want to.
My blood pooled thick and bright below me as I was seized backwards by rough hands, too tired to even struggle in their grasp. Again I caught Kurosaki’s gaze, and his innocent eyes widened monumentally as he shrugged off the bracing arms of his comrades, taking a few steps in my direction. Suddenly his mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear the sounds, my whole world becoming silent and dark. Uh-oh…was I passing out again? Fuck. All I knew was that he looked desperate, like he was trying to make a point, like he wanted to get to me for one reason or another. Vaguely, I wondered why.
My confusion only lasted moments before the darkness consumed me for the second time in one day…this was becoming an unwelcome trend…
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
I once again awoke to solitude, the air around me stale and cool, fading light warming my lap. A small breeze blew across my forehead, scattering my hair across my face, and I reached up to push it away as I opened my eyes. I was in someone’s bedroom, a sparsely decorated space that looked kind of like a student’s room, really boring if you asked me. Then again, I was used to the blank white walls and empty white rooms of Las Noches, so compared to that this place was almost cluttered.
What was left of my stomach ached as I attempted to sit up, clutching at muscles that stung and throbbed in protest to my movement. Somewhere along the way I’d been partially healed, but obviously I wasn’t at one-hundred percent yet because I could barely swing my legs to the floor before I felt kind of winded. Fuck. Why couldn’t that redheaded woman have healed me? She seemed to know what she was doing.
“You’re not going anywhere, so lay the hell back down and stay quiet.”
Everything spun around me as I whipped my head around to the source of the voice, blinking a few times to ease the dizziness. Oh fuck no. Fuck. No. And yet there he was, orange hair screaming in the last vestiges of sunlight glittering from between the gently blowing curtains, holding a mug of some kind of steaming liquid in his hand. Kurosaki walked in (fully healed I noticed) and stared down at me, his expression unreadable, shifting from foot to foot a few times before opening his mouth to speak.
“Look--”
“Where the fuck am I and why the fuck did you bring me here?” I interrupted sharply, narrowing my gaze to appear at least somewhat intimidating. It probably wouldn’t work very well though considering I was…wearing a pair of pajama pants that were kind of hanging off my hips like I was four years old. Whoever owned these was a fatass. It was almost too embarrassing to look down at the little patterns all over them because from what I could see from my peripheral vision it appeared to be little flying pigs.
Humans were so fucking retarded.
“Don’t start shit! You‘re lucky to be here and not where Soul Society wanted to put you!” Kurosaki snapped his cup down on his desk, pointing an index finger at me. Lucky? He was lucky I hadn’t reached forward and ripped that waggling digit off with my fucking teeth by now. What was he, my little conscience fairy or something? That thought kind of made me laugh inwardly…Kurosaki in a dress with a wand…heh…
“Where is here?! I didn‘t ask you to save me Shinigami! I don‘t need your fucking charity.” My head was starting to pound; a dull pain building up behind my eyes that I wasn’t sure came from my wounds or from Kurosaki. Either way I wanted to lie back down and bury my head under a pillow where no one could find me for a while. Of course, I wasn’t going to do that. The brat was still in the room and I’d be damned if I let him see how weak I was right now. No way. He’d already seen it too many times for me to count on one hand and he wasn’t getting any more viewings.
“My house! My room! Do you need a map? Are you stupid?!” He took two steps forward, hands balled into fists at his side. “Gods…why the hell did I save your ungrateful life?”
“I don’t know. I guess that just makes you an even bigger idiot than I’d pegged you for,” I sniffed, regarding him coolly.
Tense seconds passed as we stared at each other, the vein near the top of his head starting to bulge out with his annoyance, a trace of blood welling up through his fingers where he was digging his nails into his palms. It made me grin, leaning back on my elbows (secretly I just didn’t have the strength to keep myself upright anymore) to observe him and sighing dramatically. The kid was just too easy to fuck with. Really. He needed to learn to relax.
“You…” he stuttered, voice shaking with barely-contained fury. “You…I…you…dammit…you!”
There are few things in life more painful than having your dick set on fire. I was entirely sure of that as Kurosaki dumped his entire mug (looked like coffee) into my lap, a very unmanly sort of sound squeaking from my lips as the steam rose from my crotch. Holy fucking shit! Even with my body being as tired and sore as it was I still jumped to my feet, trying to keep the tears from springing up into my eyes as the intense burn faded into a slightly-less-intense-but-still-ball-scorching burn. That…little…fucker…
Instantly my hands were around his neck, slamming him back into his bedroom closet with the intent of choking the life out of him, ignoring the wash of raw hurt that thrummed through my veins. I didn’t want to use Pantera (I didn’t know where he was anyway), no no, I wanted to strangle Kurosaki to death. It would be so lovely to watch the spark drain out of those perfect brown eyes while he clawed at my arms and struggled against me. He was such an easy kill in this flimsy human body, so perfectly fragile and frail. Like a piece of hard candy to crush between my teeth. Sweet. So sweet.
“You goddamn…let me…go!” Kurosaki squeezed out through clenched teeth, his cheeks turning a very delightful shade of purple.
I had barely even started to press down with my fingers into his soft skin when his leg came out and crashed into my stomach, sending me hurtling backwards, nearly onto my ass. I could feel the deep wound on my upper abdomen open back up, a steady stream of blood soaking through the bandages around my torso to trickle down my thighs. At least those stupid fucking flying pigs were getting ruined…that was my small consolation. But no way was I going to let that stop me from getting at the little prick. My balls were still tingling!
A rush of spirit energy in my face warned me that Kurosaki had abandoned his body, the boy rushing towards me with incredible speed, that enormous sword quickly poised at my lips before I could even blink. Damn…now I was wishing I had Pantera. But even if I’d had my sword I still didn’t think I would have been able to do anything, not with the way Kurosaki was staring at me, not with how banged up I still felt. His eyes weren’t normal anymore; they weren’t brown. There was purpose in them, a sheen of sterling silver making him seem a hell of a lot more intimidating than he’d been a few seconds prior. Of course, that didn’t mean that I was unsettled. Oh hell no. I stood my ground and stared at him over his ridiculously large blade, my tongue coming out to run sensually over the smooth, cool edge of the metal. Kurosaki’s sword tasted like death and sex…and I wasn’t sure what it meant that I liked it so much.
He recoiled at that, the silver leaking out of his gaze to be replaced by confusion, the sword never leaving my face. He was puzzled…I liked that. But why had such a small act confounded him so much? There was the faintest trail of pink dusting across his cheeks now…oh no fucking way…this was too easy…
“You are so fucked up,” he spat, stepping back to smack me smartly in the forehead with the handle of his sword. My vision swam with the blunt force, stumbling backwards until I was sitting on the bed again. Fuck! Did the humiliations never end?! “I wish I knew what possessed you to come back and save my ass. Maybe I could have talked you out of it.”
“Too late now.” I looked up at the blurry twin images of him, trying to decide which one was the real one but not really able to tell. “We’re both fucked.”
“Shit, you’re bleeding all over my bed,” he whispered, setting the sword against a chair and moving to kneel in front of me. What a pretty view. He looked good between my thighs. I hadn’t actually noticed it, but I was bleeding pretty hard again, the bindings not able to hold the amount of liquid they’d been presented with. I stared down at it kind of detachedly, blinking a few times when Kurosaki’s hands delicately touched the ruined cloth, coming away candy-coated with bright red blood. My tongue itched with the desire to lick it off…
“If you’d stayed still this wouldn’t have happened you idiot.” Kurosaki was muttering under his breath, trying to force me to lie back down on the bed so he could look at me. I wasn’t having it. What the fuck good would that do? It wasn’t like he was some sort of healer. He’d just poke and prod and fuss at me like a damn mother hen; all the while my life’s blood would be leaking out all over his clean white sheets. No thanks. I’d rather bleed all over myself sitting up like a man.
He was starting to look sincerely distressed when the door to his bedroom opened up again, light from the hallway streaming in and ruining my night vision. I hadn’t realized it was even getting so dark; I’d been too preoccupied with Kurosaki to notice. That, in itself, completely bothered me. Why was he able to push my damn buttons so easily? He was a kid; I was a man. I should have had more control around him than this. So many questions, so few answers. Story of my life.
“Ichigo…what the hell?!” Another redhead, the one with hair like an aloe vera plant sticking up all over the place, stalked in. He took one look at the presented scene and promptly imploded, flailing like a middle-aged woman at a Tom Jones concert. And he was supposed to be a lieutenant? Gods…Soul Society’s standards must be really low. “What happened? I thought you said you could take care of it!”
“He’s not an 'it',” Ichigo snapped back, surprising everyone in the room including himself by the look on his face. I glanced at him, meeting his gaze with a fresh round of confusion…what the fuck? I wanted to say it out loud but couldn’t find my voice. Seriously, what the fuck? What the hell did he think we were? Bestest pals? BFF? I wanted to choke him again but couldn’t raise a finger to do so.
“Well…bring him downstairs. They’re here to talk to the King of Heuco Mundo.”
Kurosaki sighed and rolled his eyes, looking at me almost sheepishly. I was instantly suspicious. There was obviously something he hadn’t been telling me, the expression on his face told me that. What exactly did ‘Lieutenant Lame’ mean? The brat stood up and nodded, reaching down to pull my arm over his shoulder while grimacing at all the blood on the floor. I wasn’t too concerned with it though…I had other things on my mind. Hadn’t we just killed the king of Heuco Mundo?
That’s when it hit me…they weren’t talking about Aizen…
This was a nice change of pace after my huge uraichi chapter! Hope you all enjoy.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Cherry!
Title: Enemy’s Toils
Rating: R for really foul language
Pairing: Grimmichi
Warnings: Ummm…cussing for now. Eventually more.
Summary: How one moment in time can drastically change your entire outlook on life.
Author's Note: I got such a good response on this story a few months back that I decided to go ahead and expand it into a full story! I hope you all enjoy. This is a…new take on Grimmichi, but I really think I’m still maintaining their characters.
Kurosaki smelled like a fucking girl.
That was the first thought that bubbled through my head as I lay on my stomach somewhere close beside him, both of us too exhausted to move, too beaten up to speak. But at least we were alive…the same couldn’t be said for Aizen. That alone was enough to make me grin, even though the strain of doing so almost made my face hurt. Everything hurt. Everything down to my toenails. But he was dead. The man who had ruled over my life, turned me into a slave with a number, taken over my very fate; we had killed him. Finally.
I would have thanked god if I believed in that sort of thing.
“You gonna make it?” Kurosaki’s body shifted fractionally towards me, his voice strained and full of gravel. Under other circumstances it might have been sexy, but that would mean that I somehow found him attractive. And I didn’t. I didn’t find Kurosaki attractive in the least.
I opened my own eyes painfully, amazed that even my damn eyelids were sore, and peered at him. He was a wreck, torn and bloody, but he still managed to look happy. Did I look happy too? I couldn’t really tell seeing as how most of my body was numb, but I felt pretty good. Content. Was that happiness? I didn’t know.
“Do you really care?” I quipped back, feeling a bit of blood drip across my bottom lip to be caught by my waiting tongue. It tasted good, coppery and sweet, reminding me that I wasn’t dead yet. Not yet. I still had things to do. “Aren’t we supposed to be arch rivals or some shit?”
He was silent for a long minute, his face a kaleidoscope of emotions, unable to settle on one specific theme. What was he thinking? I wasn’t good enough at gauging emotions to really tell; what need did a warrior have for such crap? But he seemed to be making some sort of big decision, as though whatever he was about to say was so important to his future that it was almost frightening to express. I didn’t do fear. I said whatever came to my mind and took the consequences that came my way. Yes, you might call that stupidity. I called it tactless. Not the same thing at all.
Wait…why did I give a fuck what Kurosaki was thinking? Dammit! There he was again, tiptoeing through the private parts of my mind when I hadn’t rolled out the welcome mat. Bastard.
“Yeah I care. You saved my life.”
I blinked dumbly, wishing I had enough energy to shake my head. This kid…he made no sense. Why the fuck would you care about someone that had repeatedly tried to take your life? Why would you care about the person who had pounded your face into ground meat and left you for dead in the middle of the street? What would possess you to give a rat’s ass about your enemy? It made no sense.
Then again, I had just saved his life, so I guess I wasn’t one to talk.
“You’re an idiot.” I coughed, wincing sharply. From the pain shooting through my body, I could only assume that my lungs were coming up through my throat. Or at least that’s what it felt like. It was like every internal organ I possessed (minus my stomach naturally) was out of place…and god did I ache. I hoped that Aizen was down in Hell somewhere, getting his dick torn off over and over and over again with a salad fork. Or a screwdriver. Something painful.
Kurosaki made a concerned noise beside me and scooted a little closer, though he only managed to get about an inch and a half before he collapsed heavily, our fingertips within centimeters of touching. We stared at each other after that, me on my stomach, him on his back, and didn’t know what to say. We’d both acted out of character, we’d both done things that we probably never thought we’d do and couldn’t take back. It changed things between us, changed us forever, the dynamic of our morbid relationship altering and warping. I fucking hated it. Why couldn’t things ever stay simple?!
“Ichigo!” A female voice, contralto, yelled from somewhere close by, the sound of scuffling shoes approaching our direction. I recognized that voice. It was that one shinigami bitch I’d shoved my hand through when I first met Kurosaki. She was a pretty little thing, and her insides had been hot and sticky all over my fingers when I grabbed at her intestines. Such a lamb. The memory made me grin.
There was murmuring all around me as Kurosaki was hauled to his feet, our eyes meeting as they surrounded him, leaving me to lie on my belly in the tattered concrete. What would happen to me now? There was no way I could defend myself against so many shinigami, not in my current condition. Shamefully I felt like curling up in a ball, hiding, to somehow shield myself from view so maybe they’d overlook me. A guy could hope. Because if they didn’t I was going to die…and after all that I’d been through, I didn’t really want to.
My blood pooled thick and bright below me as I was seized backwards by rough hands, too tired to even struggle in their grasp. Again I caught Kurosaki’s gaze, and his innocent eyes widened monumentally as he shrugged off the bracing arms of his comrades, taking a few steps in my direction. Suddenly his mouth was moving, but I couldn’t hear the sounds, my whole world becoming silent and dark. Uh-oh…was I passing out again? Fuck. All I knew was that he looked desperate, like he was trying to make a point, like he wanted to get to me for one reason or another. Vaguely, I wondered why.
My confusion only lasted moments before the darkness consumed me for the second time in one day…this was becoming an unwelcome trend…
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
I once again awoke to solitude, the air around me stale and cool, fading light warming my lap. A small breeze blew across my forehead, scattering my hair across my face, and I reached up to push it away as I opened my eyes. I was in someone’s bedroom, a sparsely decorated space that looked kind of like a student’s room, really boring if you asked me. Then again, I was used to the blank white walls and empty white rooms of Las Noches, so compared to that this place was almost cluttered.
What was left of my stomach ached as I attempted to sit up, clutching at muscles that stung and throbbed in protest to my movement. Somewhere along the way I’d been partially healed, but obviously I wasn’t at one-hundred percent yet because I could barely swing my legs to the floor before I felt kind of winded. Fuck. Why couldn’t that redheaded woman have healed me? She seemed to know what she was doing.
“You’re not going anywhere, so lay the hell back down and stay quiet.”
Everything spun around me as I whipped my head around to the source of the voice, blinking a few times to ease the dizziness. Oh fuck no. Fuck. No. And yet there he was, orange hair screaming in the last vestiges of sunlight glittering from between the gently blowing curtains, holding a mug of some kind of steaming liquid in his hand. Kurosaki walked in (fully healed I noticed) and stared down at me, his expression unreadable, shifting from foot to foot a few times before opening his mouth to speak.
“Look--”
“Where the fuck am I and why the fuck did you bring me here?” I interrupted sharply, narrowing my gaze to appear at least somewhat intimidating. It probably wouldn’t work very well though considering I was…wearing a pair of pajama pants that were kind of hanging off my hips like I was four years old. Whoever owned these was a fatass. It was almost too embarrassing to look down at the little patterns all over them because from what I could see from my peripheral vision it appeared to be little flying pigs.
Humans were so fucking retarded.
“Don’t start shit! You‘re lucky to be here and not where Soul Society wanted to put you!” Kurosaki snapped his cup down on his desk, pointing an index finger at me. Lucky? He was lucky I hadn’t reached forward and ripped that waggling digit off with my fucking teeth by now. What was he, my little conscience fairy or something? That thought kind of made me laugh inwardly…Kurosaki in a dress with a wand…heh…
“Where is here?! I didn‘t ask you to save me Shinigami! I don‘t need your fucking charity.” My head was starting to pound; a dull pain building up behind my eyes that I wasn’t sure came from my wounds or from Kurosaki. Either way I wanted to lie back down and bury my head under a pillow where no one could find me for a while. Of course, I wasn’t going to do that. The brat was still in the room and I’d be damned if I let him see how weak I was right now. No way. He’d already seen it too many times for me to count on one hand and he wasn’t getting any more viewings.
“My house! My room! Do you need a map? Are you stupid?!” He took two steps forward, hands balled into fists at his side. “Gods…why the hell did I save your ungrateful life?”
“I don’t know. I guess that just makes you an even bigger idiot than I’d pegged you for,” I sniffed, regarding him coolly.
Tense seconds passed as we stared at each other, the vein near the top of his head starting to bulge out with his annoyance, a trace of blood welling up through his fingers where he was digging his nails into his palms. It made me grin, leaning back on my elbows (secretly I just didn’t have the strength to keep myself upright anymore) to observe him and sighing dramatically. The kid was just too easy to fuck with. Really. He needed to learn to relax.
“You…” he stuttered, voice shaking with barely-contained fury. “You…I…you…dammit…you!”
There are few things in life more painful than having your dick set on fire. I was entirely sure of that as Kurosaki dumped his entire mug (looked like coffee) into my lap, a very unmanly sort of sound squeaking from my lips as the steam rose from my crotch. Holy fucking shit! Even with my body being as tired and sore as it was I still jumped to my feet, trying to keep the tears from springing up into my eyes as the intense burn faded into a slightly-less-intense-but-still-ball-scorching burn. That…little…fucker…
Instantly my hands were around his neck, slamming him back into his bedroom closet with the intent of choking the life out of him, ignoring the wash of raw hurt that thrummed through my veins. I didn’t want to use Pantera (I didn’t know where he was anyway), no no, I wanted to strangle Kurosaki to death. It would be so lovely to watch the spark drain out of those perfect brown eyes while he clawed at my arms and struggled against me. He was such an easy kill in this flimsy human body, so perfectly fragile and frail. Like a piece of hard candy to crush between my teeth. Sweet. So sweet.
“You goddamn…let me…go!” Kurosaki squeezed out through clenched teeth, his cheeks turning a very delightful shade of purple.
I had barely even started to press down with my fingers into his soft skin when his leg came out and crashed into my stomach, sending me hurtling backwards, nearly onto my ass. I could feel the deep wound on my upper abdomen open back up, a steady stream of blood soaking through the bandages around my torso to trickle down my thighs. At least those stupid fucking flying pigs were getting ruined…that was my small consolation. But no way was I going to let that stop me from getting at the little prick. My balls were still tingling!
A rush of spirit energy in my face warned me that Kurosaki had abandoned his body, the boy rushing towards me with incredible speed, that enormous sword quickly poised at my lips before I could even blink. Damn…now I was wishing I had Pantera. But even if I’d had my sword I still didn’t think I would have been able to do anything, not with the way Kurosaki was staring at me, not with how banged up I still felt. His eyes weren’t normal anymore; they weren’t brown. There was purpose in them, a sheen of sterling silver making him seem a hell of a lot more intimidating than he’d been a few seconds prior. Of course, that didn’t mean that I was unsettled. Oh hell no. I stood my ground and stared at him over his ridiculously large blade, my tongue coming out to run sensually over the smooth, cool edge of the metal. Kurosaki’s sword tasted like death and sex…and I wasn’t sure what it meant that I liked it so much.
He recoiled at that, the silver leaking out of his gaze to be replaced by confusion, the sword never leaving my face. He was puzzled…I liked that. But why had such a small act confounded him so much? There was the faintest trail of pink dusting across his cheeks now…oh no fucking way…this was too easy…
“You are so fucked up,” he spat, stepping back to smack me smartly in the forehead with the handle of his sword. My vision swam with the blunt force, stumbling backwards until I was sitting on the bed again. Fuck! Did the humiliations never end?! “I wish I knew what possessed you to come back and save my ass. Maybe I could have talked you out of it.”
“Too late now.” I looked up at the blurry twin images of him, trying to decide which one was the real one but not really able to tell. “We’re both fucked.”
“Shit, you’re bleeding all over my bed,” he whispered, setting the sword against a chair and moving to kneel in front of me. What a pretty view. He looked good between my thighs. I hadn’t actually noticed it, but I was bleeding pretty hard again, the bindings not able to hold the amount of liquid they’d been presented with. I stared down at it kind of detachedly, blinking a few times when Kurosaki’s hands delicately touched the ruined cloth, coming away candy-coated with bright red blood. My tongue itched with the desire to lick it off…
“If you’d stayed still this wouldn’t have happened you idiot.” Kurosaki was muttering under his breath, trying to force me to lie back down on the bed so he could look at me. I wasn’t having it. What the fuck good would that do? It wasn’t like he was some sort of healer. He’d just poke and prod and fuss at me like a damn mother hen; all the while my life’s blood would be leaking out all over his clean white sheets. No thanks. I’d rather bleed all over myself sitting up like a man.
He was starting to look sincerely distressed when the door to his bedroom opened up again, light from the hallway streaming in and ruining my night vision. I hadn’t realized it was even getting so dark; I’d been too preoccupied with Kurosaki to notice. That, in itself, completely bothered me. Why was he able to push my damn buttons so easily? He was a kid; I was a man. I should have had more control around him than this. So many questions, so few answers. Story of my life.
“Ichigo…what the hell?!” Another redhead, the one with hair like an aloe vera plant sticking up all over the place, stalked in. He took one look at the presented scene and promptly imploded, flailing like a middle-aged woman at a Tom Jones concert. And he was supposed to be a lieutenant? Gods…Soul Society’s standards must be really low. “What happened? I thought you said you could take care of it!”
“He’s not an 'it',” Ichigo snapped back, surprising everyone in the room including himself by the look on his face. I glanced at him, meeting his gaze with a fresh round of confusion…what the fuck? I wanted to say it out loud but couldn’t find my voice. Seriously, what the fuck? What the hell did he think we were? Bestest pals? BFF? I wanted to choke him again but couldn’t raise a finger to do so.
“Well…bring him downstairs. They’re here to talk to the King of Heuco Mundo.”
Kurosaki sighed and rolled his eyes, looking at me almost sheepishly. I was instantly suspicious. There was obviously something he hadn’t been telling me, the expression on his face told me that. What exactly did ‘Lieutenant Lame’ mean? The brat stood up and nodded, reaching down to pull my arm over his shoulder while grimacing at all the blood on the floor. I wasn’t too concerned with it though…I had other things on my mind. Hadn’t we just killed the king of Heuco Mundo?
That’s when it hit me…they weren’t talking about Aizen…
This was a nice change of pace after my huge uraichi chapter! Hope you all enjoy.
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
Cherry!
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no subject
Date: 2008-10-22 09:36 am (UTC)Oh god, where to start?
That thought kind of made me laugh inwardly…Kurosaki in a dress with a wand…heh…
The way Grimmjow thinks here... XD And that one was my favorite lines. He's so embarrassed and weak and perfect. And oh god, when he licked Ichigo's sword... *is dead of joy* I'm already waiting for more!
I love how you write Grimmjow. Its surprising and refreshing and IC all at the same time. <3 This was fantastic! Such a wonderful thing to come home to.
Ahahaha Renji! Lieutenant Lame. XD
no subject
Date: 2008-10-22 09:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-22 11:01 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-22 11:39 am (UTC)You done good, babe. And you moved lickity-split on this too. Go you! I eagerly await more.
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Date: 2008-10-22 02:47 pm (UTC)I started to get sincerely tired of Grimmichi stories that don't *think*. There's so much you can DO with their pairing if you just get a little creative.
Upon re-reading this, I realized that I write Grimmjow differently than a lot of other people...*sweatdrop*...I hope he still comes across like Grimm otherwise this is kinda pointless.
I'm really forming some ideas for this, I think you're gonna dig it. Something neewwwww!
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Date: 2008-10-22 02:49 pm (UTC)Did you like it?
no subject
Date: 2008-10-22 02:52 pm (UTC)I wrote all that in one day! *eyes widen* I'm going to be trying to keep the chapters to this story a little shorter since my Uraichi is such a fucking monster. I've got such a lovely little plot bunny for this story. I want to do something new for Grimmichi. The pairing doesn't get enough creativity flowing through it.
My friend told me that she wasn't sure that Grimmjow would be that humorous, but I can see him being a smartass. What do you think? *cocks head to side*
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Date: 2008-10-22 03:02 pm (UTC)*___* Again, I cannot wait to read more! I was sort of starting to not be so enthusiastic about GrimmIchi anymore too, but now I'm fangirling them so hard.
Thank you for writing this!
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Date: 2008-10-22 03:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-22 05:05 pm (UTC)I like the part when they are both wounded and Ichigo moves toward him and thier fingers almost touch. Little thing like that just MAKE the story. Great Job!!!
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Date: 2008-10-22 05:09 pm (UTC)Thank you! *loves loves loves*
I really enjoyed this! Expect more soon!
no subject
Date: 2008-10-23 01:06 am (UTC)Even the second time around reading I got to the part where Ichigo says, “We’re both fucked.” and I kept thinking "Yeah, you should both fuck"
And here I was wondering where you've been....
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Date: 2008-10-23 01:23 am (UTC)I do have a thing for food metaphors. *grimace* I dunno...I think about people like food sometimes, so I guess it kind of comes across in my writing. Heh.
Wondering where i've been? Silly girl! I've been writing a little bit, drinking tea, eating Nutella, taking some hot baths...you know, pleasant stuff like that.
I'm thinking about writing a tea-ceremony story for Ura and Ichi. Whatcha think?
no subject
Date: 2008-10-23 01:41 am (UTC)Follow the bouncing boobs.
Date: 2008-11-02 02:33 am (UTC)You are now in my top two faves for depicting him. :) I shall troll here bunches! <3
Re: Follow the bouncing boobs.
Date: 2008-11-02 03:20 am (UTC)Feel free to friend me, that way you'll know when I update! *smile*
Re: Follow the bouncing boobs.
Date: 2008-11-02 05:05 am (UTC)Done and done! Can never have to much good stuff to read. I've gotten through about 8 of your fics so far. xD Must read moooooooore.
Re: Follow the bouncing boobs.
Date: 2008-11-02 09:40 am (UTC)My Uraichi stuff is by far my better writing. LOL
Re: Follow the bouncing boobs.
Date: 2008-11-02 04:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-07 11:50 pm (UTC)Great fiction, great scenes, the BEST Grimmjow characterization that I ever read and the first fic in eons that made me fell so tense during the reading.
You made a totally overwhelming chapter, I NEED MORE!
Now I am totally addicted by your writings!
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Date: 2008-11-08 12:09 am (UTC)I'm in the process of writing chapter three, so fear not good reader!
And thanks! I'm trying REALLY hard to keep Grimmjow as his assholish self while still making him grow as a character.
It's not as easy as it looks. *giggle*
no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 08:48 pm (UTC)