Nature's Finest Artwork


Special: Ownership Issues


Meetings and tactics discussions had never been Nnoitra's forte, nor something he looked forward to the least bit. That's why you could probably guess the fact that those were beginning to occur more frequently than ever before didn't make him jump for joy.

Meetings were a total waste of time and diplomacy was bullshit for those who couldn't get what they wanted through force—that's what Nnoitra firmly believed. But the higher ups wanted him to attend the Espada gatherings and while he was very opinionated an individual, he did not fancy being ridiculed into submission in front of all his Espada peers so he did as he was told without much complaint.

But it was exactly after one of said Arrancar elite gatherings that Nnoitra heard the rumor that had obviously flitted around for some time.

"Sexta-san bolts up quite quickly after meetings lately," that busty Halibel chick observed, looking at Grimmjow's disappearing back down the hall.

"Of course he does—he doesn't have much time to spare for us when he has much more interesting matters to deal with," the creepy masked Aaroniero fucktard observed snidely.

"Oh yea'? Like what?" Nnoitra interjected, looking absolutely indifferent whether his question would be answered or not.

"He's doing that girl Aizen-sama brought here," said Szayel with a demonstrative roll of his serpentine eyes.

"How the fuck do ya kno' tha'?" Nnoitra almost bristled. Wasn't there a prohibition of entry to her room issued by Aizen-sama himself? Why the hell did that fucking bastard Grimmjow get to have the pet when he, Nnoitra, should've been the one to have her first? He was of higher rank than that little shit anyway—what the hell gives?

"Yeah, I've heard them too—they disrupted my nap more than once. I'm going to ask Aizen-sama for a room that doesn't neighbour Orihime-chan's sometime soon," Stark piped up, scratching his head in disinterest.

"What's up with him?" Aaroniero queried as the bunch of Arrancars looked after the rather stiff form of Nnoitra storming away from them and out the room.

"Why are you looking at me? It's not like I understand the guy or even care…" Stark muttered back dispassionately while plucking a pinkie into his ear.

Halibel shook her head and stalked away from them. It was only in moments like these that she was really appalled by the sort of people she'd have to face off the shinigami with.

And it was only during moments like these that she and Szayel Apollo shared the same sentiment about any topic.


In the meantime, a fuming Nnoitra was zigzagging down the hallways of Las Noches, an ugly sneer pulling on his sharp facial features.

"If tha' low-life scumbag Sexta gets to have a go with Pet-sama then why shouldn' I too? Tha's what pets are good fo' anyway!"

A sly look twisted his thin lips when he thought of all the things he had in store for dearest Pet-sama.

He'd make her scream her pretty little fucking heart out and then some more.


An hour or so later, a very worried Tesla was taking quick strides and sometimes running slightly in order to keep up with his master's step.

The fanatically loyal fraccion had a very ominous feeling about the things that would transpire once Nnoitra reached his destination.

"I don't mean to question you, sir, but is it really a good idea to breach Aizen-sama's orders, even if Grimmjow-sama already has?" the concerned minion asked while marching down the corridors with his Espada leader.

Nnoitra snorted dismissively.

"I already fuckin' told you, Tesla—all I'm fuckin' askin' of ya is to make sure that Pet-sama and I don' git interrupt'd durin' ou' bondin' time. Is tha' too fuckin' much for ya to handle? Jus' tell me 'f it is 'n I'll fin' a person who'll do betta as my fuckin' fraccion." He was being more irritable than usual. This didn't bide well for the poor human girl they were going to visit now…

Tesla tensed up at once.

"I'm sorry for angering you, Nnoitra-sama." He bowed his head, his fists clenching. He would never let his master believe there was any other Arrancar in existence who could be more loyal to Nnoitra than himself. "Of course I'll make sure you won't be interfered with."

A sly grin spread over the addressed Espada's pointy featured face.

"Now tha's wha' I was fuckin' talkin' 'bout. You've learned ter bark quite loudly lately, Tesla—make fuckin' sure yer git rid o' tha' habit or I'll be forced to git rid of it fer ya." The severe glare the misfortunate fraccion was then bestowed with made him want to shrink in size in hopes of escaping his master's scrutiny.

They had stopped in front of Inoue Orihime's room and Tesla's stomach was tied into a very firm knot which refused to loosen whatever he told himself. This is wrong, his inner voice screamed, wailed for him to hear but he turned his back to it, calling forth all of his will-power to ignore the horrible premonition he had about the disaster this adventure would result in. All he had to do was follow Nnoitra-sama's wishes and do as he was told. It was his sole duty as a fraccion and he would fulfill it.

The spindly tall Arrancar turned on his heel, a lecherous look already on his features as he told his subordinate,

"Ya stay 'ere and make sure no one comes in here befo' I'm through wit' Pet-sama."

The blonde nodded succinctly, with more vigour than he really felt and waited for his master to enter the human girl's private quarters and close the door before turning on his heel and assuming his guard-duty position.

For a brief second, before the door had closed and blocked his view entirely, he'd seen the look of horror that had etched itself into Orihime's innocent face upon Nnoitra's entering of her room. The knot in his stomach had only tightened further at that.

He just hoped that the girl's screams would stop haunting him eventually…


Ichimaru Gin was looking at the observation screen without his characteristic grin when Aizen entered the control room with a mug of steaming tea in his hand's secure hold.

"Ou' guest is startin' to get really popular, Aizen-sama. She has a different visitor this time," Ichimaru said languidly while both he and Aizen looked at Orihime whose top was being ripped off her in the most unsightly of ways by a very excited Nnoitra. Aizen hummed thoughtfully at the picture, taking a small sip of his tea. "And anyone can tell that she definitely doesn' want 'im there. Shouldn' we really put a stop to it this time 'round?"

The silver-haired former shinigami didn't even have to see the whole of his fellow ex-death god's face to be able to tell he was smirking widely behind his cup of warm beverage. The ways that man's twisted mind worked would forever be a mystery to his life-long follower.

"You are certainly correct in your assumption that Orihime isn't very willing with Nnoitra-kun, Gin." He took another sip of his mug, the sinister glint in his eye a bit more evident now over his drink. "But I don't think our help would be required. Orihime's savior is already on his way to her rescue."

A knowing look passed between the two former captains.

Their dirty little plot was playing out rather well even when left to its own devices. They couldn't possibly ask for better entertainment than things going their way without any effort on their part needed.

Some people were just so painfully predictable it was laughable.


Meanwhile, across the fort, a girl was writhing and hitting and kicking in resistance, tears of fear and indignation marring her face. She couldn't even begin to think what she'd done to deserve this kind of punishment. And whatever she did, this spoon-like creepy bastard wouldn't leave her alone. No matter how loud she screamed, how she tried to run away from him, he always caught her and slammed her back against the bed, tearing clothes off her with renewed vigor.

Orihime's soul was wailing in anguish, begging her to just run and hide somewhere from this lecher's horrid gaze. She didn't want to do that with someone like him.

From the way he touched her she could tell that if she let this happen, it would be a horrible experience that would haunt her forever. How would she live with herself knowing she'd been taken by such an atrocious bastard? He would defile her, ruin her and make her as undesirable as she could get. She would never be able to look at herself in the mirror, not to mention being with another man after that.

From the way he looked at her she could tell that she didn't want to let him see all of her. She didn't want him there, didn't want him around her, didn't want him doing things to her that she didn't want—why wouldn't he leave her be?

She was so scared her mind was only drawing blanks. This guy was an Espada, several thousand times stronger than her—what could she possibly do to make him stop what he was doing if he didn't want to? She didn't have the power to make him, didn't have the authority to put a halt to his actions.

All she could do was cry and scream and hope someone would hear and come to save her.

She didn't want to be raped by the likes of that serpentine asshole.

"Stop givin' me a hard time, Pet-sama, 'n jus' stay still!" he ordered, an atrociously sly look on his face as he did so. "Dam', tha' fuck Grimmjow has cert'nly picked quite a handful wit' ya."

This comment of his brought her to her other problem at hand. Before, she would've yelled out several names, hoping against hope that thanks to her screams they would somehow miraculously appear and come to her aid, the people whose names she was calling. But being with Grimmjow for the several weeks or months or years that she'd spent in Las Noches had made a realist out of her—she no longer believed that if she called for Kurosaki-kun in despair he would somehow appear before her. No, she wasn't gullible enough to do that anymore.

And, really, it wasn't Kurosaki-kun's name that was the one to jump on the forefront of her mind when she was in trouble anymore.

The name she did want to yell was a name she wasn't allowed to use in such a way. If she screamed for him, he would find out later that she'd called for him and he'd be angry with her, for thinking she could rely on him, that he was somehow still indebted to her or something. If she screamed for him, he would never come to her side ever again.

She didn't want that. She was scared and terrified inside and her entire being longed to scream out his name to make him come to her help in this horrible hour but she somehow suppressed all of her instincts, went against her wishes and kept quiet what every fiber of her being wanted to make known to the world. She would not breathe a syllable of his name even if it killed her—she'd rather be broken than semi-whole but without him in the ghastly place that was Las Noches.

Orihime was pulled out of her thoughts by the open mouth that was placed on the crook of her neck, sucking and licking on her tender flesh in the most repulsing of ways. Her efforts doubled, she screamed even louder, trying her best to kick him in places it would hurt even if you didn't have enough power but he pinned both her feet to her bed with his knees, deliberately hurting her for her disobedience.

"Don' make me angry, Pet. Ya won' like me when A'm angry." He growled against her skin and she shuddered in disgust as he continued his trek towards her chest, ripping the straps of her bra to undo her garment.

Orihime bit her lip as she felt a hand snake down her stomach and going for places it did not belong. She stifled her sobs as best as she could but soon it would be too late. Grimmjow would never want her after she'd let another have her. He wouldn't want to even look at her and she wouldn't want to look at herself in turn either. Even if she screamed no one would come to her aid.

The bottom part of her skirt was in shreds now as well and that rascal had lifted his head to admire his handiwork before diving in to disgust her with herself and her powerlessness some more. She arched her back and tossed but her wrists were pinned above her head as well and he was bodily pressing her back into the sheets as well—it was the end of the line for her and her resistance. There was nothing more she could do but cry some more and beg whatever higher force there was that this was just a bad dream she would wake up from before it was too late.

"Now tha's wha' I was talkin' 'bout. Just play nice 'n I will too, Pet-sama." He chuckled in that positively repugnant way and her entire being clenched with anxiety at whatever was going to follow next.

But whatever deity there was above must have heard her desperate prayers for salvation because in that moment a commotion somewhere in front of her room's door drew the bastard's attention from her.

"—can't enter now, Nnoitra-sama's explicit orders were to stop anyone from interrupting—" a muffled voice said before it was cut off, probably the person it belonged to being knocked to the side as the one going for the door opened it and stood in the door frame.

And there he was, the one she'd been calling for in her soul, standing tall and proud in all his glory, Grimmjow Jaegerjacques glared at the scene before him with his usual look of complete indifference. His eyes widened a fraction then as he took in the sight that greeted him.

Nnoitra glared back over his shoulder at his fellow Espada, a stifling killer intent starting to ooze from him in an instant. Orihime choked on all the tears and weakness in her throat under the pressure of the chilling spirit force.

"Wha' do ya fuckin' want, Sexta? Can't ya fuckin' see A'm busy 'ere? I'll send Tesla to get ya once we're done 'ere wit' Pet-sama." His slimy voice was laced with as much of that murderous aura as his reiatsu was.

Despite the horrid situation she was in, Orihime had felt wave upon wave of relief when she'd seen her prince in shining armor standing at the door frame. For some reason she'd believed that all her troubles were taken care of just for the fact that he was now there. If he had arrived, then all was going to be right with the world. She'd firmly believed that.

She'd firmly believed it up to the point where, without making even a sound or grunting in that non-committal way he usually did when something didn't concern him at all, Grimmjow turned his back on the two on the bed and closed the door behind him.

When the mechanism clicked closed without even being slammed into place, Orihime's heart sank straight to her knees and all her power fled her body entirely. But, of course—what had made her think she was important enough to him to keep from shame? She was just a means to break rules and have some fun every now and then—she held no value to him, no meaning. She was just a toy he could do as he pleased with. What did it matter who else was having her? It's not like she was special or unique in any way to him…

And, for some reason, as those thoughts flooded her mind, drowning her in sorrow, the tears that flowed out her steel-gray eyes onto her puffy cheeks were more than those of fear she'd spilled earlier.

"Now, where we befo' we got interrupt'd?" the serpentine son of a bitch said, flashing her the gothic tattoo of the number five on his tongue.

Ah… So he was a rank higher than Grimmjow even. Even more reason for the azure haired man not to want to get in trouble with him over something as unimportant as her.

Oddly enough, after her lover had turned his back on her she did not feel as repulsed by the open-mouthed kisses the bastard was leaving on her neck and collarbone. Actually, she just didn't feel a thing. It was as though all life had fled her completely.

Then the door flew clear off its hinges, slamming hard into Nnoitra's back, sending him flying over the edge of the bed at being caught completely off-guard. Orihime seized the chance to crawl up towards the head of the bed, clutching the covers to her half-naked frame to cling to what little decency she had left.

The sudden surge of power that filled the premise was familiar to her and it was the reason she'd found the strength to move at all. At the door frame stood again a very displeased Grimmjow with his hands in his hakama pockets and a nasty look in his eye. Tesla was peeking through the gaping open hole where the door had been before, a horrified expression adorning his features.

It didn't take a genius to know this wouldn't end well.

And despite the overflowing killing reiatsu that filled the room, Orihime couldn't help feeling the unbridled happiness at not being useless enough to her lover to just leave behind for anyone to do as they wished with her.

The Sixth Espada took a few large strides inside the room glaring death at the other man getting up from the floor, pushing the door away from him while wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"You've got some guts telling me what to do while you're trying to screw my woman, you twisted fuck," Grimmjow growled, shoulders tensing and brows narrowing in warning.

"She's Aizen's toy, fucktard, she belongs on'y to 'im. 'E's just lettin' ya have a li'l fun wit' 'er ter keep ya from bein' too annoyin'. So if yer allowed to have a go wit' 'er, all of us betta' than ya should be too." He stuck his tongue out again, emphasizing on the fact he was higher in the hierarchy than his current antagonist.

Grimmjow snorted disinterestedly.

"Fine then, you can have her." Orihime's heart clenched painfully again. "As soon as you prove you're any better than me, you can do whatever you want with her." The sapphire-eyed Arrancar had already taken a defensive stance with his hand on his sword's hilt.

Nnoitra snorted, a sneer sliding into place on his face.

"Ya want ter have some sense pounded inter ya? I dun min'—it will on'y take a fuckin' second anyway."

Spirit forces were released and death glares were sent across the room while the girl for whom the whole commotion was about clutched tightly to her bed sheets, the familiar feel of cold sweat coating her skin overcoming her. The last time this had happened she'd been lucky enough to muster up the resolve to put a stop to things before it had become ugly. But there was no guarantee Grimmjow wouldn't get seriously hurt this time around…

She whimpered pitifully barely audibly against her bed sheet, closing her eyes tightly. When she'd wished to be saved she hadn't meant for Grimmjow to get in trouble instead of her—if it was pain, she'd rather receive it herself than watch someone dear suffer. She had to do something, had to find that power that had driven her into action before, had to do something—

"What is going on here?" a cold devoid of any emotion voice boomed in the silence of the premise, drawing the attention of all its inhabitants to the newcomer at the door frame.

"Ulquiorra-sama…" Tesla muttered by the newly arrived Espada's feet, a respectful veneration in his eyes as he looked up at the frame of Cuatro's towering frame above him.

Grimmjow snorted and let go of his sword at once, redirecting his glare at the Fourth while Nnoitra grinded his teeth angrily at the emerald-eyed man.

"Wha' d'ya know, wha' d'ya know—mis'r Cuatro decided ter drop in 'n say 'hi' ter us mere mort'ls beneath 'im." Venom dripped from every word of the Fifth's sentence and Orihime recognized it at once—jealousy and envy so strong in the dark haired man's voice so thick they were painful to listen to.

Ulquiorra did not seem the least bit fazed by them though.

"Aizen-sama has strictly prohibited entry to this room to all Arrancars—you should know that, Nnoitra."

"'N, what, on'y that fuckin' bastard not included in these orders, huh?" the Fifth tossed his head in direction of the blue haired male present. No one answered his question but the look in their eyes was clue enough. "Fuckin' shit…" Nnoitra muttered to himself, already tasting defeat.

"If you choose to proceed any further from here, I shall take upon your removal from this premise myself. Aizen-sama's word is law and you shall obey it."

There was a deafening silence, during which Orihime could practically hear her own heartbeat hammering against her ears. After the longest of waits, Nnoitra snorted and walked around the bed, shoving past Grimmjow who did not budge, the two exchanging murderous glances as they passed by one another.

"If Aizen-sama says no then I guess there's no fuckin' way 'round it, is there?" He stopped when he was shoulder to shoulder with Ulquiorra, glaring at the shorter Arrancar with a hellfire burning in his gaze. "I will have Pet-sama one of these fuckin' days—jus' remember tha'," he muttered to the male of smaller stature so that no one else would hear before his voice returned to its usual timbre. "Get fuckin' up, Tesla—yer a total disgrace. We're leavin' 'ere fer today."

And leave they did, with Espada's fraccion scurrying behind him clumsily to his feet.

Ulquiorra lingered in the room a moment longer after Nnoitra's back was no longer visible from the hole that used to be a door before.

"The next time you provoke him, I'll let Cinco beat some respect for authority into you, Grimmjow," the white-faced Arrancar warned dispassionately, that uncharacteristic glint in his eyes present again while he glared at his counterpart.

"Yeah, let others try to do what you didn't manage, ass-kissing bitch. I'll take anything you throw at me and shove it right back in your ugly mug."

With a last withering look exchanged, Ulquiorra turned on his heel and left the two to their own devices, off to tell Aizen-sama of the catastrophe that he'd just narrowly prevented and to warn him of any subsequent attempt on Cinco's part to harm the human girl.

Once alone with Grimmjow in the room, Orihime's whole body visibly relaxed. She hadn't even realized how tense she'd been before the fight had left her completely. Her relief was short-lived though because the glare Grimmjow accounted her with made her stiffen in fright again. None of what had happened had been directly her fault—why was he looking at her as though it was? Why was he so angry?

He advanced threateningly towards her, looming above her as his detached azure orbs looked over her body and the damage dealt by that bastard Nnoitra.

Her garments were torn and she looked a mess from all the crying she'd done. But that wasn't even half as bad as the red marks and traces that asshole had left on her tender flesh while he'd ravished her. Her resisting had resulted in the scumbag probably being rougher with her than he'd initially intended and it was painfully visible when looking at her.

His brows narrowed over his eyes some more. That no-good son of a bitch… He'd make sure he thought again before trying to lay a hand on his woman.

But in the meantime…

Grimmjow grabbed Orihime's wrist rather roughly, dragging her to her feet and almost knocking her over as she did so because her balance was very bad at that moment, taking her Lord knew where.

"Grimmjow-kun… Grimmjow-kun, you're hurting me…" she mumbled helplessly, trying in vain to free her hand from his hold. All her resistance melted at the vicious glare he sent her though. He didn't even need to order her to shut up when he looked at her with such eyes.

Before she knew it, she was shoved inside the shower stall in the bathroom adjourning her room, that withering expression still secure on Grimmjow's features. She looked back at him in puzzlement after gathering her surroundings.

"I want you to wash every place that bastard's slimy hands have touched you; I don't want even the ghost of a trace of him left on you when you're finished—do you understand me?"

His voice was loud and rough and demeaning but the things he was saying made her feel warm inside. It was at that moment that she realized that it was not her he had been glaring at earlier but what had happened to her in his absence.

So he did care whether anyone else was with her, and what happened to her. He cared quite a lot so he didn't want to be reminded of it while he was with her, didn't want anyone else to use her while she was with him.

He'd said to Nnoitra that she was his. She'd never fancied the thought of being regarded as a possession but she had a feeling just this once she could make an exception.

She didn't mind being his if that meant he'd stay by her side.

He had already turned the water on and adjusted it when she grabbed onto his jacket, pulling him into the stall flush up against her soaked self.

The azure-haired Espada look at her with unveiled nonplus as she slid the drenched upper garment off his shoulders with grace which combined very oddly with the shredded clothes, which barely hid anything from view.

"I'm going to need someone to tell me whether I've done a good job of cleaning myself from any foreign presence. Would you care to make sure yourself?" She managed a weak smile as she asked that, wrapping her arms around his neck to make sure her legs didn't give out from beneath her after such an emotionally draining day.

Grimmjow smirked in that positively enticing way as he steadied her by putting his arms around her waist, turning them around so she'd be hit directly with the water stream from the shower.

It was all the promise she needed to know he wouldn't let a memory of that rascal's touch linger on her body or in her mind.

It was really odd when you considered it all earnestness—she had come very close to being taken against her will by a total creep and she'd almost been led to believe that the person whom she relied on most both physically and emotionally in the Arrancar keep didn't care even the slightest about her in return, and yet at the end of the day she was sure she must be the happiest and luckiest of girls alive.

Because, while he wasn't a prince riding a tall horse and fighting for the justice in the world, she was his and only his and while she was, she was sure he would never let her come to any harm.


A/R: I don't know if I did Nnoitra justice with this chapter but I should note now that I hate rape stories… but I quite enjoyed writing this chapter because I knew the outcome beforehand and thanks to that encounter Grimm and Hime are closer now. I hope you liked too. :3 And I hope I didn't make Orihime a bit too OOC by the end. Oo Sure, she must be shaken from what was going to happen to her, but nothing really happened so there's no reason she wouldn't want to cling to Grimmjow while she's at it… right? xD