Felis Domesticus

A/N: Heh… I've always wanted to write this pairing. It was simply too irresistible, and don't tell me you sick fangirls have never imagined Grimmjow in this situation before… XD

Disclaimer: You guys know better than to say I own the anime/manga, Bleach, no?

Warnings: This is pretty much a yaoi fic, with lots of groping and loving between males. You guys can all handle that, right? And no, there will be no beastiality in this fic. I'll work… around it… somehow…


Grimmjow liked to think of himself as a simple being.

Simple, not as in retarded or simple-minded, but as in low maintenance. He generally viewed situations as 'you do or you don't' and of course, he had a rather one-track mind. He knew what he liked and what he hated, and he always knew what he wanted. He was the 'kill now, ask questions later' type, and the 'I'll deal with it when it comes' type. He valued only two things: his pride and his ability to fight. And he was most prideful of the fact that he could take one look at something and hate it. Just because he rather disliked many things didn't mean he wasn't low maintenance. His view of the world was very black and white, just with more on the black side.

Grimmjow was the antithesis of Ulquiorra, the brazen idiot to the other Espada, the bane of existence to Tousen, and the little fool to Aizen. But that was all perfectly fine because Grimmjow hated them all anyway. He hated Ulquiorra because the Cuarta Espada was the most high maintenance, sucking-up bitch that was ever created. Not to mention his 'green eyes of death' stare could suck the soul out of lesser beings – which Grimmjow was pretty sure that was exactly how Ulquiorra ate souls. He hated Tousen Kaname because if there was a single shred of justice on the man, Grimmjow would gladly cero his own white-clad ass. But more so than anything else, he hated Aizen Sousuke. He hated drinking the man's brainwashing shit tea. He hated listening to the man's soft yet commanding voice that could bring the entire Hueco Mundo to its knees. He hated the man's all-knowing smile, and he hated the fact that they were all nothing more than lapdogs to him. Just the sight of Ulquiorra and Aizen interacting with each other made Grimmjow sick.

Grimmjow didn't believe in karma. Some people just hadit coming. Grimmjow also didn't believe in any god. If there was a god somewhere, he would have long delivered Grimmjow from Hueco Mundo. He had resigned to the fact that he was very much alone, but that was also perfectly fine because he was strong and independent enough to take care of himself. Grimmjow always pulled himself up by his own bootstraps, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Showing dependency meant weakness, and he couldn't tolerate weakness. He tended to look down upon weak things, leading him to hate Gillian, humans, and small furry animals. Among other things.

If you ask Grimmjow, he'd say it all started with Ulquiorra's bitch. Inoue Orihime. Not that he wasn't grateful for her restoring his arm, but a fragile heart-of-gold human like her really had no place in Hueco Mundo. Her presence also meant one more person worshipping Aizen's footprints, forced to or not. Now Grimmjow admits he's not exactly a nice, caring, and sympathetic Hollow. In fact, he was very rude and insufferable, in addition to his extremely liberal word choice. His speech could be caustic and downright mean, and he didn't like to repeat himself. He was someone mothers hid their children away from and he was definitely a heartbreaker.

And he must have left quite a gash on Orihime's heart.

Next thing he knew, he was staring into Ulquiorra's unnerving green eyes and hearing the monotone words, "Aizen-sama requests your presence." So Grimmjow's tongue ran a little ahead of himself and decided to be abusive to Orihime one bored day. Not like Ulquiorra treated her any better. But it didn't mean the girl should let it slip to Ulquiorra and the little rat should tattle on Aizen. Which, of course, they all did anyway. He found himself left with no choice than to follow Ulquiorra to Aizen's chambers.

Yes, Grimmjow firmly believed there was no god.

Entering their leader's chambers did nothing to alleviate Grimmjow's mood. At the far end, right before the balcony, sat Aizen. As usual, he was flanked by his shinigami associates: Ichimaru Gin and Tousen Kaname. Also standing dutifully beside Aizen was Orihime, her large doe eyes cast meekly to the pristine floor. The door behind them shut with a dull clang and Grimmjow almost sneered at the scene. Everyone in the room was someone he hated. All it took was Aizen's maddening voice lecturing him for the icing on the cake. Or maybe the appearance of a small furry animal from somewhere.

Grimmjow forced himself to look into his leader's chocolate-brown eyes. It wouldn't do to ruin his strong and independent image in front of the people he hated. Aizen's posture was unnaturally laid back and Gin's smile was even wider than usual. Grimmjow quickly quelled the voice in the back of his head whispering that this could only mean disaster for him.

"So, Grimmjow, I hear you've not been on your best behavior to our guest." Aizen's tone was always kind and warm, but his word choice conveyed his ridicule and derision.

"He's never on his best behavior… Always causing some kind of unwanted trouble…" Tousen muttered from his place behind Aizen's chair. Grimmjow gritted his teeth, fervently wishing Tousen would spontaneously combust on the spot. At least Tousen didn't look like he would slice off Grimmjow's arm this time. Though, that didn't mean something equally nasty wouldn't happen to him.

Aizen's mellow gaze never left him, his chin supported on one curled fist while the other hand tapped idly on the armrest. Those dark eyes roved up and down Grimmjow's figure, drinking in the slouching stance and defiant cerulean orbs. Aizen allowed himself a small twitch of his immaculate lips; the Sexta Espada really was one of his finer creations, too bad that he always played hard to get and had a knack for causing an uproar. It was regrettable that he wasn't at all malleable as his favorite, the Cuarta Espada, was. There was a missing ingredient to Grimmjow. Aizen 'hmm'-ed softly; what was the missing ingredient?

Ah… Humility.

"I must say that I agree with Tousen. And not just this time, but in the past, you have repeatedly demonstrated dismissal to guests and superiors. You are too impulsive, Grimmjow. Perhaps it is time for you to learn some respect and humility." Aizen smoothed his face to look sterner, performing the role of a parent admonishing a child perfectly. "And I have just the idea…"

Aizen abruptly stood and began walking towards Grimmjow, the fist that he had used to prop his chin uncurled to reveal the Hougyoku. The artifact hovered slightly above his open palm, emitting a luminescent white glow. This was the key to all of Aizen's power, ripped from the body of Kuchiki Rukia and tucked safely away from Soul Society. This was the key to the transformation of all Hollow to Arrancar, fueling the army of Hueco Mundo. However, Aizen had other plans with the transformation powers of the Hougyoku.

Like watching a worst nightmare twisting into reality, Grimmjow was utterly horrified at the sight before him. His glittering cerulean eyes stretched impossibly wide and his body tingled unpleasantly as if he suddenly jumped into a pit of freezing water. Realization felt like a unbroken horse kicking him in the crotch. Anything was better than facing the Hougyoku a second time. He would give up a limb without second thoughts if it meant that he could continue to exist as an Arrancar and not as an inferior masked Hollow again. For everyone in Hueco Mundo knew that the Hougyoku giveth and the Hougyoku taketh away. All at the whim of Aizen. Grimmjow never thought Aizen would go this far to teach him a lesson. It was too late for any regrets. It was too late for even begging. Aizen had made up his mind.

In answer to the terror-struck look on Grimmjow's face, Aizen only smiled warmly. "Don't worry, Grimmjow. It would only be a loss to me if I were to transform you back into a Menos. I require your strength as a full Arrancar still. The change I have in mind is only temporary until I see that you have learned your place." The Hougyoku suddenly glowed even brighter and a hazy transparent box encircled Grimmjow figure, preventing any attempts at escape.

Grimmjow was almost too stunned to express his relief. One moment he was sure he was resigning from the position of Sexta Espada again with no hope of ever returning, and the next, unsure of Aizen's true intentions. What did Aizen want to transfrom him into, if not to revert him back into a Menos? Aizen's face through the transparent Hougyoku box appeared much too relaxed for Grimmjow's liking. It resembled a 'calm before the storm' face, and Grimmjow had an itching feeling he was in for a nasty surprise. He had no time to ponder further, as the interior of the box began glowing like a thousand fireflies.

It started with a floating feeling, like the ground underneath suddenly fell away. Then, a succession of sharp tingles shot through every bone in his body. He barely managed to suppress a strangled sound forcing its way out his mouth when he felt his very bones contort and contract, his well-developed muscles and taunt skin molding to fit around the reshaped bones. There was no pain, just a intense awkward sensation like nothing he had ever experienced before. And he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to experience it again. The distortion of his bones inceased, spreading from his torso to each of his limbs, finally ending with his head. The reshaping of his head was by far the strangest feeling of all. Some invisible force was squeezing his head, but there was no pain that usually accompanied severe squeezing. He screwed his eyes shut, trying not to concentrate on the elongation of his jaw and the realignment of his ears higher on top his head.

Just what in hell was he transfoming into?

As quickly as the process had begun, it ended. The squeezing ceased and a dull thud resounded as his feet hit solid floor again. He blinked, noticing the glowing and the transparent box had disappeared. Instead, he found himself staring straight into the hem of a white-colored fabric, a pair of black-clad feet peeking out underneath. Instant confusion swept through him, his brows furrowing as he tried to comprehend why the floor was so close to his face, and why he was distinctly feeling smaller. With trepidation, he slowly tilted his face upward, following the white fabric.

And jumped a few paces back at the sight.

Up there, so impossibly tall, was Aizen. He looked just like the last time Grimmjow saw him, except now his face was at least five feet above his own. The smile on Aizen's face grew wider and he swiftly turned on his heels, walking back to his chair. Grimmjow swiveled his head back and forth, panicking at the sight of everyone else exactly as tall as Aizen, faces peering down at him many feet above. How did everyone grow so tall so fast? He opened his mouth to rudely voice his confusion, demading to know what exactly had just happened.


Grimmjow froze. Did that noise come from him? He hesitantly opened his mouth again, deciding on lowering his voice. Maybe that was the problem.


The panic crashed down upon him ten-fold. He had a sneaking suspicion of what exactly he had transformed into, and hoped with all his might that it was all a cruel joke Aizen decided to play. In denial, he lifted a hand, his mind racing into overdrive as black fur met his gaze. The fur extended into a well-shaped paw, gleaming nails protruding from between segments of fur, and smooth pink pads lining the palm. He frantically swatted at his face, confirming the existence of more fur, a soft wet nose, and the most horrifying of all, a set of whiskers. God had truly abandoned him.

A small noise escaped Orihime's lips, her mouth forming a delicate 'o' and light shone within the depths of her large eyes, turning her expression immediately brighter. Gin clapped his hands together, grinning exceptionally wide, and strode forward. "If that isn't the cutest thing!" He all but gushed.

Suddenly, Grimmjow felt a pair of hands gripping him around the waist, hoisting him up in one smooth motion. Too shocked to resist, he let himself be settled in Gin's arms, nestled against his flat chest. Another wave of panic washed through him as he noticed just how snug he fit within a grown human's arms. He opened his mouth desperately, dismayed at the continual mewls and purrs whenever he tried to speak.

Gin turned so they both faced Aizen's chair, one hand sneaking up to softly pet between his twitching ears. "Would you like to see how you look?" Gin spoke from behind. Without waiting for any reply – not that Grimmjow could give it – Aizen waved a hand, dispatching his zanpakutou to reappear in the image of a tall mirror. "You, Grimmjow, now belong to the species Felis Domesticus, or in other words, a common house cat." Aizen's voice betrayed his mirth and enjoyment.

A pair of glowing electric blue eyes stared back at him. Gone was anything human-resembling, instead, he was now very much a cat. His fur was a beautiful sleek black, though faint traces of dark blue could be seen when the light hit. Gone was his jawbone, the only remnant of his Hollow mask. Now, a black tail twitched from its place tucked under Gin's arms. He opened his mouth once more, revealing a set of sharper teeth and a long pink tongue in between.

Grimmjow wanted to scream and rage against the world.

This was immeasureably worse than being turned into even a mindless Gillian. At least it still had the power of a cero blast. A cat could only scratch and claw, being a threat to nothing but mice. He let out a cry of frustration, wriggling and squirming his way out of Gin's arms. Anger invaded his mind and he wanted nothing more than to pounce on Aizen and rip his face off with his claws. How dare he turn the fearsome Grimmjow, the Sexta Espada, into a mere house cat! The name also implied that he was tamed and house-broken, furthering the shame and humiliation. He had never felt so much pure rage for his self-proclaimed leader.

"Now now, Grimmjow, there's no need to act like that! The change is only temporary…" Gin tried to soothe him, rubbing his pale hands all over his belly and attempting to pet his head again. "In fact, because you'll obviously be no more use here in Hueco Mundo until you've transformed back, we've even arranged for you to stay in the human world. I believe the conditions there are much more appealing to a cat like yourself…"

At this, Grimmjow only struggled even harder. He didn't trust a single word from Gin's lips, they were all going to abandon him in the human world, poor and defenseless as a house cat, just because he let his tongue slip once too many. He cursed his horrible fate, mewling loudly, still trying to reach Aizen. This was all his devising in the first place. But Gin held on firmly, and a cat was simply no match for an experienced Shinigami captain's hands, former or not.

"Just watch out for the dogs, Grimmjow…" Gin rubbed him one last time before transferring him to another set of hands. Grimmjow turned his head around, hissing at the sight of the Cuarta Espada's stony face. They weren't even going to grant him a pleasant last image of Hueco Mundo. Aizen was very thorough in his plans, after all.

A ripping sound thundered behind Grimmjow as Ulquiorra opened a Garganta to the human world. The black crevice never looked so ominous and foreboding. In one last desperate attempt, he scratched at Ulquiorra's chest, hissing and biting. The Cuarta Espada didn't bother to stop him, and Grimmjow looked up to stare deep into those green orbs, hoping his own gaze contained as much hatred as he tried to convey with his glare. Ulquiorra didn't even blink, though his expression molded into something resembling a stony smug look, a sense of righteous punishment pouring out from the emerald depths. He swiftly stepped into the Garganta and the smell and sounds of the human world soon invaded Grimmjow's heightened senses. Then, without any forewarning, he tossed Grimmjow out the mouth of the Garganta, sealing it shut behind him.

Only one thought crossed Grimmjow's mind as he whistled through the air, the ground rapidly approaching his feline body. Fuck you, Ulquiorra. Fuck you.

A/N: Let this be a warning to you all, karma bites. XD

Though, it is too late for our poor hapless Grimmjow. Perhaps Ichigo can right this mess, hmm?