For Shini! With a Side of Broccoli! :D
Title: Last Christmas
Dedicated to: shinigamikender
Fandom: Bleach
Prompt: Espada crack
Rating: PG
A/N: Ack, it didn't quite turn out as I planned. D: But I hope it's cracky enough for you, Shini! :3 Merry Christmas! ♥
Christmas, the previous year
The cavernous meeting room slowly filled with the ten most powerful Arrancar in Hueco Mundo. One of them, Ulquiorra Schiffer, dispassionately looked at his fellow Espada and thought, ‘God, I hate you all.’
But as much as he detested this motley crew he needed them for his latest plan. So he waited for them to seat themselves, all the while wishing he could be anywhere else but here. Once everyone had settled, he rose, staring at each of them with a look so bland it would have made a brick wall proud.
“I’ve asked you all here to - Grimmjow, sit back down.”
A one-fingered salute was his only reply.
“Fuck you, Ulquiorra,” he snarled, in his usual ill temper. “I don’t listen to just anyone, especially not a white-faced Aizen suck-up like you. If he didn’t call this meeting, I’m outta here.”
“Aizen-sama is the reason I called this meeting,” he responded dully.
Still vexed but at least marginally intrigued, the Sexta Espada reclaimed his seat.
“As I was saying, while investigating the human world, I came across a custom that appears to be compatible with our way of life. Therefore I propose we put this tradition called ”Christmas”,” he did the ‘quoting’ motion with his hands, “into effect. All in favour?”
The idea was unanimously rejected by the others.
“Perhaps if we knew what Christmas is, your idea would be better received,” Zomari suggested once he saw Ulquiorra’s lower lip start to quiver.
The Octava Espada opened his mouth.
“Oh. And shut up, Szayel,” Zomari added as an afterthought.
The scientist, who’d been on the verge of launching into an elaborate explanation, promptly shut his mouth and sulked.
“Very well then,” Ulquiorra nodded, regaining his composure. “Christmas is a celebration marking the arrival of a god among men. Since Aizen-sama has recently come to us from Soul Society, I thought it would be proper to mark the occasion with a similar festivity. All in favour?”
Almost everyone discarded the idea, save for one. Nnoitra woke Stark up with a vicious smack. Then the idea was unanimously rejected by the others.
“That’s too bad. We’re holding a Christmas party for Aizen-sama anyway,” Ulquiorra stated rather boldly. He ignored their hateful glares with practiced ease. “Now listen carefully. To properly celebrate Christmas we need several key things. We need proper decorations, food, music, and last but not least, gifts.”
This was met with an uneasy silence.
“And since I am the only one among us who is knowledgeable about Christmas,” he continued, smug as all Hell and pointedly ignoring an affronted Szayel, “I’ve taken the liberty of writing up a list of items we must collect. Let us do this for the sake of Aizen-sama.”
The others were on the verge of mutinying against Ulquiorra, when Stark motioned for them to stop.
“Just go along with his dumb plan,” he whispered. “It’s less trouble than trying to stuff him into a Caja Negacion and making a run for it.”
Since Stark was the premier authority on being lazy, they believed his words and agreed to follow Ulquiorra for now.
“… You know, I’m sitting right beside you,” Ulquiorra frowned at Stark. The bearded Espada shrugged.
“In any case,” Ulquiorra continued sourly, “I’ve divided us into four teams. Aaroniero, since you have the most distinguished palate amongst us, you’re in charge of getting the appropriate food. Take Nnoitra with you. Grimmjow, you’re responsible for finding Christmas decorations, the most important one being the Christmas tree. Zomari and the old man will assist you. Meanwhile, Halibel, Stark, and Szayel will select the music for the celebration.”
“What about you?” Grimmjow barked, irritated with this entire farce.
“As for me,” Ulquiorra puffed out his chest self-importantly, “Yammy and I will be constructing our Christmas gift to Aizen-sama.”
“I didn’t know you could wrap a kiss to the ass,” Grimmjow grumbled as the Espada split up for their respective tasks.
Several hours passed, and Yammy and Ulquiorra were making great progress in their humble, but well-crafted, homage to their lord and creator. Ulquiorra was just putting the finishing touches to his macaroni portrait of their great leader when Grimmjow and his team returned, dragging their prize with them. Looking up from his can of gold spray paint, Ulquiorra frowned.
“What is that?”
“It’s the Christmas tree, duh,” Grimmjow scoffed as he set the giant tree down.
“That does not look like any Christmas tree I’ve ever seen,” Ulquiorra said dubiously. True, he’d only seen three in his entire afterlife, but they had all been pretty consistent with each other. This locally grown quartz tree did not fit the standard.
“Well do you see any other kind of tree here?” Grimmjow gestured wildly to indicate all of Hueco Mundo.
“No.”
“Then this is your fucking Christmas tree,” he snapped.
Ulquiorra looked at Yammy for his opinion. Yammy grunted in what might have been approval.
“Fine then.”
Next to return were Aaroniero and Nnoitra. They seemed to have better success at their foray into the culinary world, though their catches didn’t seem to think so.
“Are those Numero holding the food?” Ulquiorra inquired, staring impassively at their empty hands.
“The Numero are the food,” Aaroniero clarified as he felt one up. “This one is the turkey.”
Iceringer made a choking noise and tried to brush Aaroniero’s hand away. Grimmjow wandered over to retrieve a disturbed looking Shawlong. After much consideration, he decided to save Di-Roy too.
It was at this time that the rest of the Espada arrived. Halibel and Stark looked as blasé as ever, while Szayel wore an expression of pure bliss.
“Have you completed your mission?” Ulquiorra asked.
“Negative. None of the music Szayel had in his collection was suitable for the celebration,” Halibel intoned.
“What?” he gaped at her in shock. “This,” he indicated a compilation CD held in his hands, “is pure gold!”
Written on the CD was the title: Operettas and Overtures for Overlords to Scheme To.
“That is inappropriate music for Christmas, Szayel,” Ulquiorra stated in a hard and final tone. “You have failed. Again.”
“Well your Christmas party sucks anyway,” he sniped back.
Despite Ulquiorra’s plans and wishes, what Szayel said was true. The decorations solely consisted of the giant quartz tree (now being haphazardly dressed up with quartz baubles; how inspired), the food wasn’t cooperating (“Hey, Ulqy, how about this for the entrée? This rack is big enough to feed all of Las Noches!” Noitora pointed to Halibel’s boobs while Numeros tried to flee the room. She promptly poked out his eye.), and the only music to be heard was the chaos all around him.
“At least we still have our gift for Aizen-sama,” Ulquiorra muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose, turning to Yammy. The Decima Espada grunted before coughing up a macaroni.
“……………Stop!”
Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at an unusually cross Ulquiorra. He seethed at them, one eye spazzing dramatically.
“The Christmas celebration may be ruined,” he spat out, chest heaving with anger, “but I refuse to admit total defeat! We will give Aizen-sama a Christmas present! I don’t care what it is! Just find him a present NOW!”
No one moved. And then, as one, everyone turned to Szayel.
~*~*~*~*~
Christmas, the current year
“Isn’t Aizen-sama going to do something about this situation?” Tousen asked Gin, pointing to the security monitors. The Captains of Soul Society were handily winning their battles against the Espada. At this rate most of them wouldn’t survive.
“Naw, I don’t think so,” Gin shrugged nonchalantly. “He doesn’t really like the Espada.”
“Why not?”
“Last Christmas all they gave him was a crappy compilation CD.”
Fini ~
And have a side of Japanese ... inventiveness. With broccoli!
Dedicated to: shinigamikender
Fandom: Bleach
Prompt: Espada crack
Rating: PG
A/N: Ack, it didn't quite turn out as I planned. D: But I hope it's cracky enough for you, Shini! :3 Merry Christmas! ♥
Christmas, the previous year
The cavernous meeting room slowly filled with the ten most powerful Arrancar in Hueco Mundo. One of them, Ulquiorra Schiffer, dispassionately looked at his fellow Espada and thought, ‘God, I hate you all.’
But as much as he detested this motley crew he needed them for his latest plan. So he waited for them to seat themselves, all the while wishing he could be anywhere else but here. Once everyone had settled, he rose, staring at each of them with a look so bland it would have made a brick wall proud.
“I’ve asked you all here to - Grimmjow, sit back down.”
A one-fingered salute was his only reply.
“Fuck you, Ulquiorra,” he snarled, in his usual ill temper. “I don’t listen to just anyone, especially not a white-faced Aizen suck-up like you. If he didn’t call this meeting, I’m outta here.”
“Aizen-sama is the reason I called this meeting,” he responded dully.
Still vexed but at least marginally intrigued, the Sexta Espada reclaimed his seat.
“As I was saying, while investigating the human world, I came across a custom that appears to be compatible with our way of life. Therefore I propose we put this tradition called ”Christmas”,” he did the ‘quoting’ motion with his hands, “into effect. All in favour?”
The idea was unanimously rejected by the others.
“Perhaps if we knew what Christmas is, your idea would be better received,” Zomari suggested once he saw Ulquiorra’s lower lip start to quiver.
The Octava Espada opened his mouth.
“Oh. And shut up, Szayel,” Zomari added as an afterthought.
The scientist, who’d been on the verge of launching into an elaborate explanation, promptly shut his mouth and sulked.
“Very well then,” Ulquiorra nodded, regaining his composure. “Christmas is a celebration marking the arrival of a god among men. Since Aizen-sama has recently come to us from Soul Society, I thought it would be proper to mark the occasion with a similar festivity. All in favour?”
Almost everyone discarded the idea, save for one. Nnoitra woke Stark up with a vicious smack. Then the idea was unanimously rejected by the others.
“That’s too bad. We’re holding a Christmas party for Aizen-sama anyway,” Ulquiorra stated rather boldly. He ignored their hateful glares with practiced ease. “Now listen carefully. To properly celebrate Christmas we need several key things. We need proper decorations, food, music, and last but not least, gifts.”
This was met with an uneasy silence.
“And since I am the only one among us who is knowledgeable about Christmas,” he continued, smug as all Hell and pointedly ignoring an affronted Szayel, “I’ve taken the liberty of writing up a list of items we must collect. Let us do this for the sake of Aizen-sama.”
The others were on the verge of mutinying against Ulquiorra, when Stark motioned for them to stop.
“Just go along with his dumb plan,” he whispered. “It’s less trouble than trying to stuff him into a Caja Negacion and making a run for it.”
Since Stark was the premier authority on being lazy, they believed his words and agreed to follow Ulquiorra for now.
“… You know, I’m sitting right beside you,” Ulquiorra frowned at Stark. The bearded Espada shrugged.
“In any case,” Ulquiorra continued sourly, “I’ve divided us into four teams. Aaroniero, since you have the most distinguished palate amongst us, you’re in charge of getting the appropriate food. Take Nnoitra with you. Grimmjow, you’re responsible for finding Christmas decorations, the most important one being the Christmas tree. Zomari and the old man will assist you. Meanwhile, Halibel, Stark, and Szayel will select the music for the celebration.”
“What about you?” Grimmjow barked, irritated with this entire farce.
“As for me,” Ulquiorra puffed out his chest self-importantly, “Yammy and I will be constructing our Christmas gift to Aizen-sama.”
“I didn’t know you could wrap a kiss to the ass,” Grimmjow grumbled as the Espada split up for their respective tasks.
Several hours passed, and Yammy and Ulquiorra were making great progress in their humble, but well-crafted, homage to their lord and creator. Ulquiorra was just putting the finishing touches to his macaroni portrait of their great leader when Grimmjow and his team returned, dragging their prize with them. Looking up from his can of gold spray paint, Ulquiorra frowned.
“What is that?”
“It’s the Christmas tree, duh,” Grimmjow scoffed as he set the giant tree down.
“That does not look like any Christmas tree I’ve ever seen,” Ulquiorra said dubiously. True, he’d only seen three in his entire afterlife, but they had all been pretty consistent with each other. This locally grown quartz tree did not fit the standard.
“Well do you see any other kind of tree here?” Grimmjow gestured wildly to indicate all of Hueco Mundo.
“No.”
“Then this is your fucking Christmas tree,” he snapped.
Ulquiorra looked at Yammy for his opinion. Yammy grunted in what might have been approval.
“Fine then.”
Next to return were Aaroniero and Nnoitra. They seemed to have better success at their foray into the culinary world, though their catches didn’t seem to think so.
“Are those Numero holding the food?” Ulquiorra inquired, staring impassively at their empty hands.
“The Numero are the food,” Aaroniero clarified as he felt one up. “This one is the turkey.”
Iceringer made a choking noise and tried to brush Aaroniero’s hand away. Grimmjow wandered over to retrieve a disturbed looking Shawlong. After much consideration, he decided to save Di-Roy too.
It was at this time that the rest of the Espada arrived. Halibel and Stark looked as blasé as ever, while Szayel wore an expression of pure bliss.
“Have you completed your mission?” Ulquiorra asked.
“Negative. None of the music Szayel had in his collection was suitable for the celebration,” Halibel intoned.
“What?” he gaped at her in shock. “This,” he indicated a compilation CD held in his hands, “is pure gold!”
Written on the CD was the title: Operettas and Overtures for Overlords to Scheme To.
“That is inappropriate music for Christmas, Szayel,” Ulquiorra stated in a hard and final tone. “You have failed. Again.”
“Well your Christmas party sucks anyway,” he sniped back.
Despite Ulquiorra’s plans and wishes, what Szayel said was true. The decorations solely consisted of the giant quartz tree (now being haphazardly dressed up with quartz baubles; how inspired), the food wasn’t cooperating (“Hey, Ulqy, how about this for the entrée? This rack is big enough to feed all of Las Noches!” Noitora pointed to Halibel’s boobs while Numeros tried to flee the room. She promptly poked out his eye.), and the only music to be heard was the chaos all around him.
“At least we still have our gift for Aizen-sama,” Ulquiorra muttered as he pinched the bridge of his nose, turning to Yammy. The Decima Espada grunted before coughing up a macaroni.
“……………Stop!”
Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at an unusually cross Ulquiorra. He seethed at them, one eye spazzing dramatically.
“The Christmas celebration may be ruined,” he spat out, chest heaving with anger, “but I refuse to admit total defeat! We will give Aizen-sama a Christmas present! I don’t care what it is! Just find him a present NOW!”
No one moved. And then, as one, everyone turned to Szayel.
~*~*~*~*~
Christmas, the current year
“Isn’t Aizen-sama going to do something about this situation?” Tousen asked Gin, pointing to the security monitors. The Captains of Soul Society were handily winning their battles against the Espada. At this rate most of them wouldn’t survive.
“Naw, I don’t think so,” Gin shrugged nonchalantly. “He doesn’t really like the Espada.”
“Why not?”
“Last Christmas all they gave him was a crappy compilation CD.”
Fini ~
And have a side of Japanese ... inventiveness. With broccoli!
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