Fuckin' Fuckin' Tousen.
Grimmjaw cursed, nursing the slowly congealing blood of his shoulder. Fuckin' Tousen. He coulda shown that shinigami. Coulda shown all those fuckers. He shrugged, tilting his head to the side, yanking at the jacket with his teeth. Couldn't even take that off without help. Fuck. It wasn't like he couldn'ta handled things. Wasn't like the bastards woulda given a shit whether or not he released his goddamn zanpakutou.
Damn Tousen for the cockblock he was. Bet he was just jealous his precious fuckin' Aizen-sama was more happy about what he had done than anything Tousen had done.
Or, heh, maybe he was just pissed 'cos one of the shits that he was fuckin' had died. Pft. Probably Il Forte if anyone. Priss had his head shoved so far up his ass, he probably wouldn't care if he were fuckin' a shinigami. Disgrace ta' 'em all. 'Cept maybe Ulquiorra. But that shit sucked up ta' 'em all. 'Aizen-sama this', 'Aizen-sama that'.
And speak of the fucking devil.
"I see your trip went well," the deadpan voice came from the doorway. The smallest of the arrancar breezed into the room as if he owned the place.
"Shuddup. Least I did shit. Ya just fucked around an' didn't even get the bastard Aizen wanted," Grimmjaw grinned, "Ya didn't even see what 'e could do with that zanpakutou a' his."
The pale arrancar reached where he was and knelt, jerking Grimmjaw's chin up with a pale hand. "And so what?" he asked softly, emotionless eyes fixed on Grimmjaw's face, studying it. "What I decided had more merit than any decisions you've made lately."
Ulquiorra scoffed, running a thumb along Grimmjaw's lower lip. "One arm now. You're a disgrace to Aizen-sama."
Grimmjaw snapped, jerking his chin free of Ulquiorra's grip, "I dun see where that's any a' yer fuckin' busine-" He choked, gagging for air as the pale hand wrapped around his throat instead.
"It is, Grimmjaw Jagger Jack. Sixth of the Espada ranks you, where?"
"Lower... than..." he wheezed.
A cold near-smile, lacking any of the emotion or warmth of a real one, flickers on Ulquiorra's lips as he presses them against Grimmjaw's.
"Remember that." His grip slackens and he turns to go, leaving Grimmjaw coughing, choking to regain the air from his lungs.
Screw Tousen. Fuckin' Ulquiorra was more like it.