fic, Bleach, RukiIchi, "Babes in Toyland"
Lawl is it possible to make a more ignominious entrance into the realm of Bleach fic. Probably not.
Ichigo and Rukia, inappropriate gags in uhhh a setting not especially distant from that one picture, so call it AU or futurefic or destiny whatever you like. If the fandom hive mind has already produced these particular gags in the past ten years, I apologize. Can't believe this doesn't satisfy any of my Kink Bingo squares, bawling.
EDIT: Also let's pretend retroactively that this was in honor of International Women's Day XD;
* * *
Babes in Toyland
"Since you're awake," said Rukia, "it's time you were introduced."
She was sitting seiza on top of the bedspread, earnest and composed, wearing the kid-sized hotel robe because all the rest were too big for her. Ichigo--who was neither upright nor composed, and not wearing anything--rubbed his eyes with the back of his fist and squinted at her. There was something in her right hand he couldn't see.
"Introduced," he said groggily.
"That is to say, I feel it's time for us to add another dimension to our intimacy."
It sounded like a line from a book. It probably was, if not the kind of book Ichigo wanted to read, ever. He frowned at her with bleary suspicion until she raised her hand, exposing what was in it with a flourish.
"Ta-da!"
At first he thought it was just another Pez--no, Soul Candy dispenser. Then he realized the shape was wrong. Different. Wrong. Wrong was the word.
He might've recoiled if he hadn't been sprawled flat on the bed.
"The hell," he groaned.
"What do you mean, 'the hell'? It's Chappy."
"I can see it's Chappy, why the hell do you have a--"
"Every woman should have one," she said. "Regardless of her relationship status. Didn't I tell you years ago that I owned a personal massager? You need to understand: this isn't about your manhood. Your manhood is fine."
"Yeah, thanks," he muttered. His voice was still kind of hoarse. It wasn't like he thought she'd been faking--if she had been, she'd have to be a really good actress, which she wasn't. When she duped other people it was because other people were easily duped. Like those dumbasses at the open-air lounge the other night who'd mistaken her for some kind of heiress, and she'd bullshitted them out of three rounds of drinks.
Anyway, he didn't need to be told he was doing okay for a guy who was new at this stuff. He wanted to be doing better than okay. He wanted to learn fucking bankai in three days.
"In fact your manhood is very satisfactory," she was saying, with condescension that made his fingers claw the sheets, "but I've relied on Chappy for years now, and I value him too much to give him up."
"'Him,'" said Ichigo.
"Ah...it."
She looked expectant and unabashed. I'm not touching your goddamn bunny vibrator, was what Ichigo wanted to say, but that would mean letting the phrase bunny vibrator cross his lips. Bad enough that it had crossed his brain. He heaved up from the bed and stalked to the bathroom.
"I'm taking a shower," was what he said.
*
When he emerged Rukia was still perched on the bed, gazing intently down at something. A magazine, it looked like, or maybe the room service menu. Room service wasn't a bad idea--if she ordered another tray of strawberries and booze it might distract her from the...the bunny issue. There was no guarantee she wouldn't do mind-altering things with the strawberries, but he could probably resign himself to that. You had to pick your battles.
She beckoned to him without glancing up. "Ichigo, come here."
He girded his loins with the bath towel and advanced.
"Since you seem to have something against Chappy, however inexplicable, I'm prepared to compromise. Help me choose."
He leaned over her shoulder, peering down at what wasn't the room service menu, after all. What is this, he was about to ask, until he saw that it could only be a catalog, since there was a full-color picture of the bunny vibrator with a price listed, right next to pictures of a duck vibrator and a panda vibrator. Kitty and puppy and penguin vibrators. Also with prices listed. Ichigo stared at them as he would have at a train wreck.
"Surprised?" She sounded smug. "It's issued by a subdivision of the Shinigami Women's Association. The Advocates of Personal Responsibility. There are meetings--"
"I don't need to know," he said. "About the meetings."
"--to discuss product development and user needs--"
"Why are they all the same designs as the candy holders?"
Rukia seemed taken aback. "They're not." She turned the page. "See, here's the Captains' Zanpakutou series." Bland-faced, she pointed. "If you hate Chappy so much, I could get a Senbonzakura instead. It's very expensive."
He snatched the catalog out from under her hands.
"Aaaah, don't--" she flailed. "Wait, turn the page! Just turn the page one more time."
Scowling, he did.
SPECIAL EDITION!! read the blurb at the top--it was a two-page spread--with exploding fireworks behind the text.
There was no mistaking what the image showed.
"The fuck," Ichigo said.
"It was the most-requested new model last year." She was smiling. Smirking. A prim and tiny smirk, but still. Incredulous, Ichigo jabbed a finger at the page and shook it.
"The hell it was! Are you not seeing the fucked-up-ness here? How are you not seeing it?!" She only blinked at him. Ichigo wondered, very briefly, whether he could sue for some sort of copyright violation. Or, barring that, at least kill the parties responsible. Even if they were girls. "Doesn't it bother you that, I don't know, Matsumoto might be using one of these to--"
"No, Lieutenant Matsumoto has a Shinsou. Or at least she used to. I probably shouldn't have divulged that. Don't tell her I told you."
"Like I would!"
He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, still clutching the catalog in his fist. The panel of text beside the (huge) (unduly huge) image seemed to leap into his field of vision whether he wanted to read it or not. Are you ready for the ultimate in full release? You've seen the incredible power and the size--now imagine having it at your fingertips. Find out why his ~special ability~ isn't called Piercer of Heaven for nothing! ♥
He threw the catalog over his shoulder. Rukia made a disgruntled noise. He felt the mattress give as she crawled behind him, heard the rumpled pages being smoothed.
Without looking at her he said, "You don't have one of those."
"Of course not," Rukia sniffed. "I need something small enough to be portable."
He felt an unaccountable mix of relief and...no, it was pure relief. If Senbonzakura and Special Edition Zangetsu were the alternatives, the bunny option was looking better and better. He supposed that was part of her plan.
"Look," he said, shifting to face her, "I don't have a problem with...with the basic...." He screwed up his mouth and then, with effort, unscrewed it. He looked down at his empty hands. "Aren't there like. Plain ones. Just...plain. Without any weird shit on them."
"I don't know what you mean by 'weird.'"
She lifted her chin as she said it, turning aside, and for a minute it was all Ichigo could do to witness the line of her throat, the miffed set of her lips. The way she wore the kid-sized hotel robe like it was a designer furisode. The way you would never in a hundred years guess, if appearances were all you had to go on, that she'd spent the last hundred years getting off with a--
He glanced at the nightstand where Chappy sat, forlornly abandoned.
Nobody ever said learning bankai in three days was easy, come to that.
Ichigo set his teeth. Lowering his head, he reached toward the nightstand. If he gripped the damn thing by the bunny end, at least his palm completely hid its perky face.
*
A/N: Special thanks to Hello Kitty.
Ichigo and Rukia, inappropriate gags in uhhh a setting not especially distant from that one picture, so call it AU or futurefic or destiny whatever you like. If the fandom hive mind has already produced these particular gags in the past ten years, I apologize. Can't believe this doesn't satisfy any of my Kink Bingo squares, bawling.
EDIT: Also let's pretend retroactively that this was in honor of International Women's Day XD;
* * *
Babes in Toyland
"Since you're awake," said Rukia, "it's time you were introduced."
She was sitting seiza on top of the bedspread, earnest and composed, wearing the kid-sized hotel robe because all the rest were too big for her. Ichigo--who was neither upright nor composed, and not wearing anything--rubbed his eyes with the back of his fist and squinted at her. There was something in her right hand he couldn't see.
"Introduced," he said groggily.
"That is to say, I feel it's time for us to add another dimension to our intimacy."
It sounded like a line from a book. It probably was, if not the kind of book Ichigo wanted to read, ever. He frowned at her with bleary suspicion until she raised her hand, exposing what was in it with a flourish.
"Ta-da!"
At first he thought it was just another Pez--no, Soul Candy dispenser. Then he realized the shape was wrong. Different. Wrong. Wrong was the word.
He might've recoiled if he hadn't been sprawled flat on the bed.
"The hell," he groaned.
"What do you mean, 'the hell'? It's Chappy."
"I can see it's Chappy, why the hell do you have a--"
"Every woman should have one," she said. "Regardless of her relationship status. Didn't I tell you years ago that I owned a personal massager? You need to understand: this isn't about your manhood. Your manhood is fine."
"Yeah, thanks," he muttered. His voice was still kind of hoarse. It wasn't like he thought she'd been faking--if she had been, she'd have to be a really good actress, which she wasn't. When she duped other people it was because other people were easily duped. Like those dumbasses at the open-air lounge the other night who'd mistaken her for some kind of heiress, and she'd bullshitted them out of three rounds of drinks.
Anyway, he didn't need to be told he was doing okay for a guy who was new at this stuff. He wanted to be doing better than okay. He wanted to learn fucking bankai in three days.
"In fact your manhood is very satisfactory," she was saying, with condescension that made his fingers claw the sheets, "but I've relied on Chappy for years now, and I value him too much to give him up."
"'Him,'" said Ichigo.
"Ah...it."
She looked expectant and unabashed. I'm not touching your goddamn bunny vibrator, was what Ichigo wanted to say, but that would mean letting the phrase bunny vibrator cross his lips. Bad enough that it had crossed his brain. He heaved up from the bed and stalked to the bathroom.
"I'm taking a shower," was what he said.
*
When he emerged Rukia was still perched on the bed, gazing intently down at something. A magazine, it looked like, or maybe the room service menu. Room service wasn't a bad idea--if she ordered another tray of strawberries and booze it might distract her from the...the bunny issue. There was no guarantee she wouldn't do mind-altering things with the strawberries, but he could probably resign himself to that. You had to pick your battles.
She beckoned to him without glancing up. "Ichigo, come here."
He girded his loins with the bath towel and advanced.
"Since you seem to have something against Chappy, however inexplicable, I'm prepared to compromise. Help me choose."
He leaned over her shoulder, peering down at what wasn't the room service menu, after all. What is this, he was about to ask, until he saw that it could only be a catalog, since there was a full-color picture of the bunny vibrator with a price listed, right next to pictures of a duck vibrator and a panda vibrator. Kitty and puppy and penguin vibrators. Also with prices listed. Ichigo stared at them as he would have at a train wreck.
"Surprised?" She sounded smug. "It's issued by a subdivision of the Shinigami Women's Association. The Advocates of Personal Responsibility. There are meetings--"
"I don't need to know," he said. "About the meetings."
"--to discuss product development and user needs--"
"Why are they all the same designs as the candy holders?"
Rukia seemed taken aback. "They're not." She turned the page. "See, here's the Captains' Zanpakutou series." Bland-faced, she pointed. "If you hate Chappy so much, I could get a Senbonzakura instead. It's very expensive."
He snatched the catalog out from under her hands.
"Aaaah, don't--" she flailed. "Wait, turn the page! Just turn the page one more time."
Scowling, he did.
SPECIAL EDITION!! read the blurb at the top--it was a two-page spread--with exploding fireworks behind the text.
There was no mistaking what the image showed.
"The fuck," Ichigo said.
"It was the most-requested new model last year." She was smiling. Smirking. A prim and tiny smirk, but still. Incredulous, Ichigo jabbed a finger at the page and shook it.
"The hell it was! Are you not seeing the fucked-up-ness here? How are you not seeing it?!" She only blinked at him. Ichigo wondered, very briefly, whether he could sue for some sort of copyright violation. Or, barring that, at least kill the parties responsible. Even if they were girls. "Doesn't it bother you that, I don't know, Matsumoto might be using one of these to--"
"No, Lieutenant Matsumoto has a Shinsou. Or at least she used to. I probably shouldn't have divulged that. Don't tell her I told you."
"Like I would!"
He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, still clutching the catalog in his fist. The panel of text beside the (huge) (unduly huge) image seemed to leap into his field of vision whether he wanted to read it or not. Are you ready for the ultimate in full release? You've seen the incredible power and the size--now imagine having it at your fingertips. Find out why his ~special ability~ isn't called Piercer of Heaven for nothing! ♥
He threw the catalog over his shoulder. Rukia made a disgruntled noise. He felt the mattress give as she crawled behind him, heard the rumpled pages being smoothed.
Without looking at her he said, "You don't have one of those."
"Of course not," Rukia sniffed. "I need something small enough to be portable."
He felt an unaccountable mix of relief and...no, it was pure relief. If Senbonzakura and Special Edition Zangetsu were the alternatives, the bunny option was looking better and better. He supposed that was part of her plan.
"Look," he said, shifting to face her, "I don't have a problem with...with the basic...." He screwed up his mouth and then, with effort, unscrewed it. He looked down at his empty hands. "Aren't there like. Plain ones. Just...plain. Without any weird shit on them."
"I don't know what you mean by 'weird.'"
She lifted her chin as she said it, turning aside, and for a minute it was all Ichigo could do to witness the line of her throat, the miffed set of her lips. The way she wore the kid-sized hotel robe like it was a designer furisode. The way you would never in a hundred years guess, if appearances were all you had to go on, that she'd spent the last hundred years getting off with a--
He glanced at the nightstand where Chappy sat, forlornly abandoned.
Nobody ever said learning bankai in three days was easy, come to that.
Ichigo set his teeth. Lowering his head, he reached toward the nightstand. If he gripped the damn thing by the bunny end, at least his palm completely hid its perky face.
*
A/N: Special thanks to Hello Kitty.