Title: Hands of Fate - Closing In
Author: Shadow Arashi
Pairing: Ichigo x Grimmjow
Word Count: 3746
Summary: A chance meeting turns the life of an Espada and a shinigami upside down. Kurosaki will stop at nothing to get what he wants, but will his prey give in?
Warnings: AU, shinigami!Grimmjow and arrancar!Ichigo. Dub-con in the beginning, smut, angst, breaking of a character and stockholm syndrome. Grimmjow may seems a bit OOC but I tried to explain why to the best of my abilities in the fic.
Disclaimer: Bleach and all its characters belong to Tite Kubo, this fic is written for entertainment only and I don't make any profit of it.
He should have known the man was bad news the moment he first laid his eyes on him.
He really should have know better, but as they said hindsight is twenty twenty.
The first time they met was during one of his patrol in the human world.
He was minding his own business, cursing his taicho for sending him to this god forsaken town, when a sudden surge of reiatsu nearly caused him to trip over his feet and fall down flat on his face.
Grimmjow almost gasped under the pressure and reflexively tightened his grip on his zanpakuto. He didn't have to wait long before the source of the disturbance made itself known.
The very air seemed to vibrate as the young shinigami felt more than heard something tear somewhere above him. He raised his head just in time to see a huge black rip, right there in the middle of the sky, slowly closing down against the midnight earth's atmosphere.
And there, slowly floating down without a care in the world, was an arrancar. There was no mistaking the white clothes and hollow mask. The arrancar wore a cocky little grin as his feet touched the ground, the earth splitting open under his spiritual pressure, and Grimmjow found himself responding with a matching grin of his own.
"Hello shinigami," the arrancar said, his grin fading into an almost innocent smile "I'm Kurosaki Ichigo, the Sexta Espada, and I'm feeling pretty bored right now. Wanna play with me?"
"A scrawny li' thing like you is the Sexta?" Grimmjow almost laughed, taking in the slender figure, the gothic six tattooed on the pale neck and the short orange hair, the style of which could rival his own "Damn, Aizen must be getting desperate then." He taunted.
He was quickly forced to drop the attitude though as he dodged a blow from a now frowning Espada.
"We'll see who is desperate, shinigami!"
And that's when things went very wrong.
Grimmjow blocked the first few hits but soon found himself overwhelmed as the arrancar sent him flying through the air and into the concrete street bellow. Everything blurred into a haze of pain after that, the Espada clearly outclassing him and dominating the fight, playing with him like a cat with a mouse and driving him mad with frustration.
He tried to keep up, the arrancar's incredible speed and strength like nothing he had ever seen before, until he was kicked in the chest and he hit the ground again. Grimmjow spat bright red blood as he struggled onto his feet. He was sure he had broke at least one rib but he refused to back down.
The blue haired male swallowed the bitter taste of his own blood as the Espada laughed, looking for all the world like he was truly enjoying himself and was not beating him within an inch of his life. The slender hollow used that weird shunpo of his to materialise just in front of Grimmjow and grabbed him by the collar of his uniform, hitting him again and again relentlessly. He was merely toying with him now and Grimmjow's anger flared even as he was unable to defend himself, his zanpakuto lying uselessly a few meters away.
For the first time of his life, Grimmjow realized he may very well lose a fight.
Then the desire to win and to shut the fuckin' bastard up took over . He kicked the orange haired Espada right in the guts, knowing it wouldn't do any real damages but the instant it took for the arrancar to get over it was all he needed to dart away and grab his zanpakuto. He released his bankai in a burst of reiatsu and a cloud of dust, striking immediately and grinning in pure satisfaction when his next attack draw blood.
When the dust settled the Espada's white uniform was dirty and blood stained, though not as much as his own. The hollow looked at him with a new light in his eyes, no longer watching him as he would a small child but finally acknowledging him, a taunting smile slowly tugging at the corner of the bastard's lips as he licked the blood from his new wound.
"Not so cocky now are you, arrancar?" Grimmjow jabbed at the other, ignoring the trail of blood running down his own face.
The Espada's eyes narrowed. He looked ready to jump at him again when the man froze suddenly. He looked annoyed for a split second before the arrancar actually had the nerve to sheath his zanpakuto and turn his back on him.
"I guess you weren't as weak as I thought but I'm afraid my work here is done. Try to stay alive until our next fight, shinigami."
The goddamn freak waved at him just before turning away and ripping another garganta into the sky.
Grimmjow stood there, mouth opened and shaking with rage but at this point he didn't even have the strength to yell. The scream building in the back of his throat died into a choked cry and he collapsed into welcomed darkness.
The last thing he saw was the Sexta Espada looking down at him, a glint in his golden eyes that caused Grimmjow's stomach to clench even as he fell into unconsciousness with 'Kurosaki' on the tip of his tongue.
He really should have stayed away then.
Ichigo knew he should have been more irritated. His battle had been cut short but as he walked down the hallways of Las Noches he just couldn't bring himself to care. His thoughts were centered on the shinigami he had just fought and he instinctively licked his lips at the memories.
The shinigami had been fun to fight, a welcomed surprise to his otherwise dull mission in the real world. His last move had surprised him (his zanpakuto was deceptively lovely, almost delicate in its bankai form, a slender blade of pure blue energy that shone like a miniature sun), the very fact that he had been able to wound him at all was nothing short of a miracle. Ichigo was, comparatively to others Espada such as Nnoitra, not very blood thirsty, but for the first time of his hollow existence he found himself truly enjoying fighting his opponent.
Pushing the thought away the Sexta stepped into the throne room. He walked proudly, coming to stand before his master with his back straight and head high.
"You called me Aizen-sama?"
He asked, keeping his eyes focused on the other man. Aizen nodded, before the shinigami took in the state of his uniform.
"Indeed. Your presence in the real world was no longer needed. Though it seems as if you met with some resistance, am I wrong?"
The orange haired Espada surprised his master by grinning widely, rather than getting mad at having one of his mistakes pointed out to him.
"I found a great opponent in Karakura, a shinigami who was actually pretty decent. I want to fight him again."
The Sexta licked his lips absentmindedly as the image of the blue haired shinigami's bleeding face flashed before his eyes. Those electric orbs had held so much fire...
"I see." Aizen smiled. "So my dear Espada has found a new toy to play with..." He commented out loud.
His Espada seemed quite taken by this shinigami, not that he minded.
"Just try to bring him back in one piece if you go after him again. I would hate for my Espada to be depraved of their toys due to carelessness."
The Lord of Las Noches decided to humor his faithful servant, watching with amusement as Ichigo's eyes widened a bit in understanding. The arrancar's face split into his more familiar smirk, his reiatsu nearly leaking with his excitement.
"Thank you Aizen-sama." The Espada breathed his thanks, eyes wide and bright.
Ichigo quickly turned on his heels and hurried on his way out. He was reaching the door when Aizen's voice stopped him.
"Wait until we are ready to attack Soul Society before trying to fetch your new pet. You will have the opportunity to fight this shinigami to your heart content then."
The Sexta gave a sharp toss of his head, showing he had heard, and left.
That night he dreamed of fiery blue eyes and blood streaked skin.
Their second meeting took place during the First Winter War.
Grimmjow had been training like a crazed man - the taste of his defeat still bitter in the back of his throat - when everyone was called to the front. In a matter of hours about half of the forces of the Seireitei were stationed in the real world and ready to strike.
It went way too fast for his taste. His senses were screaming at him that something fishy was going on but, being a vice-captain, Grimmjow also knew enough to guess exactly how their forces had figured out the right moment to attack.
So he just went along for the ride. Spy work was the last of his concerns at the moment after all. Memories of an insolent smirk and playful golden eyes still plagued his thoughts and Grimmjow tightened his grip on his zanpakuto. His captain was standing next to him, the man grinning crazily as usual as he scanned the area. Finally their waiting paid off as the sky was suddenly torn to shreds right before their eyes.
Aizen and his army had arrived.
Grimmjow immediately felt the tension in the air rise to a stifling level but paid no mind to it. He was too busy looking for Kurosaki.
Surprisingly enough the Sexta seemed to want to be found, as the Espada was flaring his reiatsu in a way that had Grimmjow nearly growl out loud. The shinigami's senses automatically tried to hunt down the source of the dark reiatsu, a shiver running down his back at the feel of it (though he couldn't explain why, 'cos he sure as hell wasn't scared). His eyes flashed as he finally located his opponent standing somewhere near the back, a few meters behind Aizen and a small, pale skinned arrancar he had never seen before. The fuckin' bastard was waving at him again.
"You got a fan right there Grimm," Kenpachi's barking like laugh filled the air "is that the arrancar who wiped the floor with your ass?" his captain asked, eyebrows rising in interrogation.
"Yeah," his grip on his sword was so hard he had to force himself to relax, lest he cut himself "the bastard is mine! Nobody gets to fight him but me!" he growled.
Kenpachi let out another barking laugh.
"He is all yours as soon as the old man give us the green light. I know you'll make the eleven proud."
Grimmjow nodded sharply, his electric blue eyes never straying from his prey as he grinned back at Kurosaki. This time he would show him exactly who was the weaker one.
He crouched down in a manner that Ikkaku said was reminiscent of a panther, ready to leap and to tear all his enemies to piece as he waited for the signal that would start the Winter War, his whole body trembling with barely restrained energy.
Somebody moved, and he pounced just as the battlefield came alive in a shower of sparkles.
What should have been an organized battle quickly turned into complete and utter chaos but Grimmjow never saw any of it.
All his attention was on the arrancar before him and trying to stay alive. A flash on his right told him that one of the Espada had just fired a cero but he had no time to worry about it. He traded blows after blows with Kurosaki, sparkles flying around them as their swords collide.
"So, have you actually got any better, shinigami? Maybe this time you'll give me a name to go with that lovely zanpakuto of yours." The arrancar taunted.
Grimmjow grind his teeth before darting forward to slash at Kurosaki's chest. He used the momentum to spin his body around and send the Espada flying backward with a kick in the chest, adding more damage to the wound he had just gave the cheeky bastard.
"It won't change your fate but have it your way! I'm Grimmjow Jeaggerjaquez, and I'm the one who's going to kill you!" He howled his challenge, the adrenaline high from the fight making him feel deliciously giddy.
His sharp ears caught Kurosaki's muffled curse as the arrancar struggled to stop his fall, just before the Sexta's right hand started glowing with the familiar red light of a cero. The orange haired hollow extended his hand in front of him as he right himself mid-fall and released a large ball of destructive energy. Grimmjow barely managed to dodge in time.
And that's when things once again took a turn for the worst.
Ichigo used his distraction to quickly analyze the situation, and saw his chance. The Espada used his sonidō to disappear from Grimmjow's sight, only to reappear behind him. He immediately caught the shinigami into a strangle hold and twisted his arms behind his back.
Grimmjow bit back a wince when his arms threatened to be pulled out of their sockets. He snarled and began to struggle in the arrancar's grip, growing enraged when he saw that the bastard was grinning from ear to ear. He was already chanting a kido spell when the arrancar did something that froze him completely.
Kurosaki pressed his body flat against his back and buried his face into the strands of blue hair at the base of his neck, humming contently in the back of his throat like a big cat.
Grimmjow's mind went blank. His eyes widened, and a shiver ran through him at the unexpected contact. Then white hot pain exploded behind his eyes and he saw nothing but black, growing slack into the arrancar's hold as a sharp blow to the back of his head sent him into unconsciousness.
He had finally got the prize he wanted so badly. His shinigami (Grimmjow his mind whispered) was out cold in his arms, and he could barely restrain his satisfaction at having won this new prey.
To be totally honest, his last move hadn't really been planned. He had merely been running on instincts at this point. The soft blue hair had brushed against his cheek as he tried to subdue the shinigami, and just like that he had felt the sudden urge to lean forward and bury his face into that softness. The color was so unusual, like the sky of the human world... It fascinated him. And being a creature of instincts Ichigo had given in to the impulse.
The shiver he got for his trouble made his stomach tighten, though he couldn't figure out why. All he knew was that the shinigami was at his mercy, trembling in his arms and he liked it.
A yell of rage startled him out of his thoughts and he abruptly pulled away from his captive.
The tall captain with the crazy hair and eye-patch was glaring at him from the other side of the battlefield, his single eye dark with fury and promising death. The man was hacking away wildly at the arrancars surrounding him, never letting the Sexta - or rather the body he was carrying - out of his sight.
Ichigo tightened his hold as he cuddled the passed out form close to his chest, his every instincts screaming 'mine'.
Glaring back just as heatedly, Ichigo balanced the unconscious Grimmjow into a more comfortable position and prepared himself to fire a cero. He allowed himself a smirk when he saw understanding flashing in the captain's eye, but by then it was too late.
He released the cero and opened a garganta, not waiting to see if his attack had worked. He acknowledged his master's order in the back of his mind and while he was a little surprised that Aizen would demand a retreat now, orders were orders.
Ichigo looked back at the battlefield and drunk into the vision of pure chaos with no small amount of delight. Most of the shinigami were sporting wounds with various degree of severity, many of the lower shinigami were apparently dead or dying and he could hear the screams of the wounded echoing all over the place.
Turning away, he stepped into the garganta just in time to see the wild captain staggering forward, covered in blood but still trying to reach him.
He waved mockingly, grinning as the garganta closed behind him.
Aizen and his arrancars left as quickly as they came, leaving the forces of Soul Society in chaos. Nobody knew back then what had motivated the former captain to retreat.
Now they knew.
Once back into the safety of the darkness of Hueco Mundo, the first thing Ichigo did was to go directly to the throne room to show off his prize to Aizen.
He kept a close eye on his captive the whole time, making sure the shinigami wouldn't wake up before he could secure him into a cell. Ichigo took the time to really observe the other man closely, gazing at the sleeping form with curiosity and, though he didn't recognized it yet, fascination.
The lightly colored lips were slightly opened and he had to beat down the urge to touch them with his fingertips, to see if they were as soft as they looked. Most arrancars and hollows had a harsh edge and a cold, hard body, but this shinigami was soft and warm in his arms.
Something in his chest clench at the thought and Ichigo frowned.
"So this is the shinigami who managed to catch the attention of my Sexta Espada."
Aizen's voice abruptly brought him back to the present. Ichigo tore his eyes away from the unconscious shinigami's face and nodded in answer, before he asked the permission to keep the captive for himself.
He was more than pleased when he was granted his wish, and profusely thanked his master. He then took his leave, eager to go back to his quarters and test his spoil of war.
He never noticed Aizen watching him with a knowing smile.
When Grimmjow woke up he found himself tied up, blindfolded and obviously dressed in something far lighter than his shinigami uniform. Judging by the feel of it, it was probably some sort of yukata, though he couldn't be sure. But he knew right away then that he was in deep, deep trouble.
His head hurt but thankfully his mind was clear, allowing him to quickly assess his situation. His face flushed lightly as he recalled the last moments of his fight with the Sexta, his cheeks growing warm as he remembered the way the hollow had pressed himself against him so intimately.
Grimmjow swore under his breath, bristling as he realized the bastard had played him. And he had fell straight for it. He would never be able to look his captain in the eye again after this. If he ever got himself out of this mess that is...
If he was honest with himself there was no reason for Kuro- that arrancar to keep him alive. He wasn't a captain (yet, he grumbled) and wasn't particularly privy to the old man's plans concerning Aizen... In short he had nothing of value that could make him a valuable prisoner, unless they were planning on using him as a practice target.
With a growl of rage Grimmjow started to yank at whatever was keeping him bound, caution be damned. He had been trashing wildly like a mad animal for about 5 minutes when he distinctly heard a door slamming open. His head immediately snapped toward the sound, his eyes narrowing into slits.
"Hello shinigami, are you comfortable?"
He recognized the owner of the voice right away and his teeth bared in defiance reflexively, a growl escaping him when the bastard had the nerve to fuckin' laugh at him.
"What the fuck do you want?!" He spat.
There was some shifting, indicating that the arrancar was moving again, and suddenly a cold hand was grabbing a fist full of his hair and bending his head backward, exposing his throat. Sharp teeth pressed to his now vulnerable throat and nibbled on the soft skin, cutting off the yell that was threatening to slip past his lips.
Grimmjow's eyes opened wide under his blindfold as the unexpected touch. His body responded against his will and he shivered - just like that time on the battlefield -, cursing inwardly.
"So soft..." The arrancar mumbled into his skin, and Grimmjow's eyes widened even more.
"Stop that!" He tried and failed to keep his usual bite, disturbed by the dreamy tone of the hollow.
He tried to pull away, instinctively wary and not liking how vulnerable he was in this position. The teeth at his throat were removed but the hand in his hair tightened its grip warningly.
"You are in no position to make any demand, shinigami." The son of a bitch whispered in his ear, causing yet another unwanted shiver to travel down his spine "You are mine. My prey, my captive. Aizen-sama gave you to me, therefore I'm free to do whatever I want with you. So you better play nice if you want to stay in one piece. Now don't move, I don't wanna mess this up."
Grimmjow opened his mouth to yell at Kurosaki, even if he couldn't see him (just to know he had pissed him off), only to shout out in agony as pain exploded from his lower back.
It was so sudden that he couldn't contain his scream as his whole world seemed to narrow down to that burning pain in his back. It seemed to last a life time and when it stopped at last, he fell back against the arrancar panting and shaking, his cheeks wet. He heard soft sobs and dimly realized that they were his. He was in shock, he thought distantly.
"There," Kurosaki cooed into his ear, petting his hair as he would a kitten "now everybody in Las Noches will know that you are mine."
"Wha- what did you-" His voice cracked, his mind going frighteningly numb.
"You wear my number now."
Grimmjow's body finally gave up on him and this time he didn't fight back as he plunged into darkness.
A/N: This is it. I know lot of my reviewers wanted me to continue some of my stories so I did. Starting by the shinigami!Grimmjow story that everybody seemed to want. Black Storm, this is for you especially. I would have posted this thing sooner but I couldn't get over it because I was originally going for a one-shot and it just REFUSED to work. So I said f*** it and cut that bitch into 4 chapters. 'cos a 20 pages (still counting) or so one-shot was just too much for my little mind to handle. So there you go. I hope you like it and stay tuned for the smut next chapter!.