Fanfiction : Bleach - Christmas For Grinchjaw!
Title: Christmas For Grinchjaw!
Type: Fanfiction : Bleach.
Prompt: Di Roy accuses Grimmjow of being the Grinch by luminamon.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Kubo Tite does, and some other people that I don't know.
Rating: R, mostly for language and the abundance of the 'F' word. XD
Word Count: 877 words.
Summary: Grimmjaw and Di Roy discuss Christmas, with a rather stunning revelation regarding a certain Christmas-hating creature and its possible relation to the Sexta Espada. [ Gen ] One-shot.
Author's Note: [Done for arrancar_fans's Carnage Holiday Fic-A-Thon]. For luminamon,who requested this. Feedbacks are very much welcomed, loved and cherished~ ♥
christmas for grinchjaw!
“The fuck are ya doin’?”
Di Roy looked up from his current project and grinned at the approaching Sexta Espada. “Yo, boss! You’re just in time!”
Grimmjaw sauntered closer, hands deep in his pockets. He frowned when his feet kicked something round and shiny and had no whatsoever business to be in Hueco Mundo. He picked it up with a hand, and examined the shiny ball closely, trying to determine if it was some sort of a bomb or something similar. He then turned his attention to Di Roy, who was happily stringing what looked like to be tiny yellow flakes amidst multi-coloured boxes and other Aizen-knows-what paraphernalia. Grimmjaw was convinced that Di Roy had finally developed insanity. “In time for what?”
“Wait, wait!” Di Roy shoved the yellow-thingy strings off his body, and scampered towards a cloth-covered pillar in the middle of the room. The arrankar grabbed an end of the cloth and with a wide, toothy grin, exclaimed while yanking the cloth from the supposedly-pillar, “TA DAH!”
Grimmjaw blinked.
It was a tree.
Grimmjaw blinked again.
It was still a fuckin’ tree.
And Di Roy was glowing like he had been announced as the next Espada-to-be.
“It’s a… tree,” he slowly pronounced the word, staring at the green monstrosity before him. Yep, Di Roy was definitely insane. “Where the hell did you get that thing?”
“Stole it from the human world,” the arrankar answered, staring proudly at his acquisition. “The tree looks kinda regal, eh?”
Grimmjaw raised an eyebrow at Di Roy’s choice of word and decided that he needed to say something before any more fancy-schmancy words was mentioned. It sounded like something that bastard Ulquiorra would say. “What do you wanna do with a tree, shitface?”
“Aw, boss! Don’t tell me that ya don’t know!”
The glee on Di Roy’s face was sort of disturbing. “Know what?”
“It’s Christmas!”
Grimmjaw stared at Di Roy.
Di Roy’s grin widened to an inhuman (or rather, in-arrankar) length.
“What. The. Fuck. Is. Christmas?” the blue-haired Espada gritted out, eyebrow twitching. He stepped onto a glass figurine of a bearded fat man, which had rolled out of a box and rested near his feet.
The arrankar grimaced at the crunching sound that echoed inside the room, as well as at the pressure from murderous aura currently emanating from Grimmjaw. “M’not sure. Something ‘bout trees, and gifts and this Santa dude flying around the world in one night.”
“You’ve been reading Forte’s books again, haven’t ya?” accused Grimmjaw, in full knowledge of his long-haired arrankar subordinate’s tendency to collect knickknacks from the human world. He would have to talk to Forte about restricting the amount of time Di Roy was allowed to spend in the collection. “Last time, it’s that ‘Kama Sutra’ shit. And now this.”
Di Roy smirked at the memory, and regarded Grimmjaw through half-lidded eyes. “I remember ya likin’ that one.”
“Hell, it’s just sex and weird positions,” the Espada countered. “I don’t think this Christmas crap got anything to do with sex. Or killin’.”
“I dunno,” confessed Di Roy, critically scrutinising his strings of yellow flakes. He stood up and rummaged through a box, extracting a worn book from its depth. He tossed it towards Grimmjaw, who caught it with a hand and studied the title. “The book doesn’t say nothin’ bout not getting sex or killin’ people. Guess ya can do it if ya want to.”
A Complete Guide To Your Very Own Merry Merry Christmas and How To Roast Your Very First Turkey. Grimmjaw felt his blood pressure rising. “This is bullshit. We’ve got enough shit shoved our way without you comin’ up with crap like this!”
“Boss, I believe that ya are one of them nasty green things that tried to destroy Christmas,” Di Roy said, face grim and sombre.
“Wha-”
Grimmjaw fleetingly wondered if Di Roy’s sudden insanity had evolved to a whole new level.
The arrankar nodded, all serious and grave. The effect was slightly dampened by the presence of shiny, colourful balls around him. “I think they call it ‘Grin’, ‘Grunch’ or somethin’ like that.” Di Roy snatched the Book from Grimmjaw’s nerveless fingers, and propped it open, flipped through pages and stopped at one. He held it up for the Espada. “Yeah. A ‘Grinch’.”
Grimmjaw stared at an illustration of a hairy green beast, decked in ragged clothes and supporting the nastiest expression ever on its furry face (that kind of looked like Tousen on a bad hair day), and growled.
“They say that Grinch hated Christmas,” Di Roy nodded knowingly, and consulted his Book again. “Don’t know why, but prolly ‘coz he’s one damned ugly bitch with a nasty temper. Kinda like ya.” The arrankar hastily added, upon noticing the twitch of Grimmjaw’s eyebrow, “Minus the ugly part, o’course!”
“Know what, do whatever the hell ya want,” Grimmjaw finally spat out, convinced that he would suffer more than brain damage if he were to stay any longer and listen to Di Roy rattling on nonsensical trash like that. “If ya see Forte, tell him I wanna see him.”
Di Roy waved happily at the retreating back of the Espada. “Merry Christmas, Grinchjaw!”
Grimmjaw snarled, and directed a cero towards the arrankar, narrowly missing his head.
END
Edits needed!
Type: Fanfiction : Bleach.
Prompt: Di Roy accuses Grimmjow of being the Grinch by luminamon.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. Kubo Tite does, and some other people that I don't know.
Rating: R, mostly for language and the abundance of the 'F' word. XD
Word Count: 877 words.
Summary: Grimmjaw and Di Roy discuss Christmas, with a rather stunning revelation regarding a certain Christmas-hating creature and its possible relation to the Sexta Espada. [ Gen ] One-shot.
Author's Note: [Done for arrancar_fans's Carnage Holiday Fic-A-Thon]. For luminamon,who requested this. Feedbacks are very much welcomed, loved and cherished~ ♥
christmas for grinchjaw!
“The fuck are ya doin’?”
Di Roy looked up from his current project and grinned at the approaching Sexta Espada. “Yo, boss! You’re just in time!”
Grimmjaw sauntered closer, hands deep in his pockets. He frowned when his feet kicked something round and shiny and had no whatsoever business to be in Hueco Mundo. He picked it up with a hand, and examined the shiny ball closely, trying to determine if it was some sort of a bomb or something similar. He then turned his attention to Di Roy, who was happily stringing what looked like to be tiny yellow flakes amidst multi-coloured boxes and other Aizen-knows-what paraphernalia. Grimmjaw was convinced that Di Roy had finally developed insanity. “In time for what?”
“Wait, wait!” Di Roy shoved the yellow-thingy strings off his body, and scampered towards a cloth-covered pillar in the middle of the room. The arrankar grabbed an end of the cloth and with a wide, toothy grin, exclaimed while yanking the cloth from the supposedly-pillar, “TA DAH!”
Grimmjaw blinked.
It was a tree.
Grimmjaw blinked again.
It was still a fuckin’ tree.
And Di Roy was glowing like he had been announced as the next Espada-to-be.
“It’s a… tree,” he slowly pronounced the word, staring at the green monstrosity before him. Yep, Di Roy was definitely insane. “Where the hell did you get that thing?”
“Stole it from the human world,” the arrankar answered, staring proudly at his acquisition. “The tree looks kinda regal, eh?”
Grimmjaw raised an eyebrow at Di Roy’s choice of word and decided that he needed to say something before any more fancy-schmancy words was mentioned. It sounded like something that bastard Ulquiorra would say. “What do you wanna do with a tree, shitface?”
“Aw, boss! Don’t tell me that ya don’t know!”
The glee on Di Roy’s face was sort of disturbing. “Know what?”
“It’s Christmas!”
Grimmjaw stared at Di Roy.
Di Roy’s grin widened to an inhuman (or rather, in-arrankar) length.
“What. The. Fuck. Is. Christmas?” the blue-haired Espada gritted out, eyebrow twitching. He stepped onto a glass figurine of a bearded fat man, which had rolled out of a box and rested near his feet.
The arrankar grimaced at the crunching sound that echoed inside the room, as well as at the pressure from murderous aura currently emanating from Grimmjaw. “M’not sure. Something ‘bout trees, and gifts and this Santa dude flying around the world in one night.”
“You’ve been reading Forte’s books again, haven’t ya?” accused Grimmjaw, in full knowledge of his long-haired arrankar subordinate’s tendency to collect knickknacks from the human world. He would have to talk to Forte about restricting the amount of time Di Roy was allowed to spend in the collection. “Last time, it’s that ‘Kama Sutra’ shit. And now this.”
Di Roy smirked at the memory, and regarded Grimmjaw through half-lidded eyes. “I remember ya likin’ that one.”
“Hell, it’s just sex and weird positions,” the Espada countered. “I don’t think this Christmas crap got anything to do with sex. Or killin’.”
“I dunno,” confessed Di Roy, critically scrutinising his strings of yellow flakes. He stood up and rummaged through a box, extracting a worn book from its depth. He tossed it towards Grimmjaw, who caught it with a hand and studied the title. “The book doesn’t say nothin’ bout not getting sex or killin’ people. Guess ya can do it if ya want to.”
A Complete Guide To Your Very Own Merry Merry Christmas and How To Roast Your Very First Turkey. Grimmjaw felt his blood pressure rising. “This is bullshit. We’ve got enough shit shoved our way without you comin’ up with crap like this!”
“Boss, I believe that ya are one of them nasty green things that tried to destroy Christmas,” Di Roy said, face grim and sombre.
“Wha-”
Grimmjaw fleetingly wondered if Di Roy’s sudden insanity had evolved to a whole new level.
The arrankar nodded, all serious and grave. The effect was slightly dampened by the presence of shiny, colourful balls around him. “I think they call it ‘Grin’, ‘Grunch’ or somethin’ like that.” Di Roy snatched the Book from Grimmjaw’s nerveless fingers, and propped it open, flipped through pages and stopped at one. He held it up for the Espada. “Yeah. A ‘Grinch’.”
Grimmjaw stared at an illustration of a hairy green beast, decked in ragged clothes and supporting the nastiest expression ever on its furry face (that kind of looked like Tousen on a bad hair day), and growled.
“They say that Grinch hated Christmas,” Di Roy nodded knowingly, and consulted his Book again. “Don’t know why, but prolly ‘coz he’s one damned ugly bitch with a nasty temper. Kinda like ya.” The arrankar hastily added, upon noticing the twitch of Grimmjaw’s eyebrow, “Minus the ugly part, o’course!”
“Know what, do whatever the hell ya want,” Grimmjaw finally spat out, convinced that he would suffer more than brain damage if he were to stay any longer and listen to Di Roy rattling on nonsensical trash like that. “If ya see Forte, tell him I wanna see him.”
Di Roy waved happily at the retreating back of the Espada. “Merry Christmas, Grinchjaw!”
Grimmjaw snarled, and directed a cero towards the arrankar, narrowly missing his head.
END
Edits needed!