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dreadsuitsamus · 6 months

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Unite | Ichigo Kurosaki x Reader |

author's note: this is a follow up to the ichigo x reader blurb i wrote, which you can read here. i decided i couldn't leave it on that angsty note!

pairing: ichigo kurosaki x fem!reader

warnings: reconciliation, light jealousy

Your captain unceremoniously lays a cloak before you, and you hear the sounds of his sister and lieutenant arguing a short distance away. Frowning and gazing up at the man, you take the beige cloak in hand. "Captain?"

"The sands of Hueco Mundo are harsh." He murmurs, turning away to leave as quickly as he came.

The gears in your head turn, and faster than your mind can process things, your body is moving and snatching your zanpakutō up. Ichigo, that idiot... He's traveling to save Orihime in a land he doesn't know, and likely alone! What a stupid man... He just can't sit still for a single moment.

But hell, you're just as much of an idiot for running after him, aren't you?

Rukia and Renji pause their squabble as you meet them outside, each of them draped in similar cloaks to the one Byakuya left you. Surely your captain knew what they would do, but why would he include you in such a heist?

"He says he was only ordered to bring us back to Soul Society." Rukia murmurs, her eyes gazing at you with an expression you can't quite read.

Renji's face, however, is much less made for gambling. He's your lieutenant, after all, and you have the utmost respect for him, but he's just about as dumb as that man that you love. A stupid smirk is spread on his lips and he wiggles those oddly-styled brows of his. "Time to go make up with-"

"Renji!" Rukia barks, delivering a solid strike of her elbow into the taller man's side.

"I'll help save the girl." You murmur to yourself, looking away from the two people your captain trusts the most. "And that's all."

Rukia's eyes are soft, her lips pulled in a soft little pout. It hasn't been too long since you returned home, without Ichigo, and it was actually Renji that was able to get the details of what happened before her older brother finally retrieved you. "Tensions have been high, and things said and done under duress aren't always indicative of one's heart."

"We should hurry before he can get too far ahead." Voice flat, it gives away little of what's on your mind. "Lest his rescue mission become one for himself."

But Renji knows you, the third seat of the Sixth Division, very well. He nudges Rukia when she opens her mouth to speak, shaking his head minutely. You'll work through your emotions and tension with Ichigo later— Orihime's the priority now, for everyone.

"Let's go." The words have hardly left Renji's mouth before you're racing for the gates out of Soul Society, your mastery of Shunpo perhaps better than your very own captain's. And though Renji feels sluggish in comparison even with his more than adequate skill in the flash step, the soft raise of his smirking lips gives way to his pride in you. Certainly, he can trust you with his life.

The thump of an anxious heart simmers below your chest, the speed of the hammering increasing as you get closer to journeying into Hueco Mundo. You've never been there yourself, and it's no doubt crawling with Hollows and things even worse than them. Aizen is there, the traitor, and he's got Ichigo's friend.

Shame floods your cheeks with warmth. What the hell were you thinking, giving Ichigo an ultimatum like that? That was a terrible way to act, a horrid display of your jealousy and anger at a woman that would have Ichigo if he wanted her. He chose you once already, and it just wasn't enough for you in that moment. Why wasn't it enough?

Urahara hums when you arrive, almost as if he'd been expecting you all. And with his easy sense of what's coming and how to prepare for it, he's probably been left wondering what took so long.

"So…" The shop-owner flashes a smile full of teeth. "Do you need something?"

Your captain was right to give you this cloak, you learn quickly. Hueco Mundo is worse than any desert terrain you've ventured into, which in itself is on the limited side of things. The entire valley feels like a void, a nightmare dimension that's ready to kill you at any moment.

"Scared?" Renji teases with an elbow to your side, receiving a harsh glare in return. This may not be an official mission or anything, but he is still your lieutenant.

He's skating on thin ice, however.

"This is a suicide mission." You mutter bitterly, gazing at the empty void surrounding you. The journey here was already freaky, but actually being in here is something else entirely. "We should've come up with a plan."

"This is the plan!" Renji argues, hand on his hip while his other firmly grasps the hilt of his zanpakutō.

"No, this is not a plan!" You reel on him harshly, anger fueling your body all over again.

This will get you all killed, including the girl you all came to save! Surely with just a little bit more time and effort, a plan within Soul Society could have been formulated and you could've come as a unit. What good is this idea of a mission if you're all dead??

You shudder to think what you'd have done had Ichigo come here and died while you remained safe at home.

He better shudder to think what you'll do to him when you finally get your hands on him for this next level of foolish bravery.

"We should've waited, or worked faster, or something other than this! Do any of us have any idea what the hell we're doing?!"

Renji steels himself, face stern as he allows you to unleash your frustration. "When have you ever known us to make a plan? When, in our line of duty, have we stopped and thought about it clearly? When, and I ask this genuinely, have we ever had the time to do anything but rush in and make it up as we go?"

Rukia steps forward, her hand out to be the more gentle side of your lieutenant's scolding. "If we remain strong together, this will all work out in the end. We don't have much time right now; the more we linger, the further Ichigo gets."

You huff and gaze into the endless void of white sand. "My head feels like it's swimming in here."

"It's definitely unnerving." Rukia murmurs, taking in the sights.

A particular strike slashes your heart, anxiety and fear crawling out slowly as you sense a harsh rise in Reiatsu. Renji and Rukia feel it too, and off you all go towards Ichigo's presence in Hueco Mundo. It's him, it's always him with that sloppy spiritual pressure of his. Rukia's the first to attack, her beautiful zanpakutō easily demolishing the sandy Hollow.

The course of the fight is honestly second in importance to you as your eyes zero in on him. It's in his eyes, the warm amber hue so beautiful in this horrible place. He's surprised, made so obvious by the dumb look on his face, and your breast is giddy and full as the gap is closed and you're in his arms again.

Tears flood his chest as you hide your face against him. "Ichigo, I'm—"

"Shh…" Ichigo's hands hold you so gently as his lips find your cheek for a gentle, quick kiss before he murmurs directly to you in a way the others can't hear, though to their credit they've turned their backs on your private moment. "It's okay. I'm not mad. It's okay."

Turning your head to gaze at him, you find the courage to smile softly as you brush a new tear away, Ichigo's lips and eyes offering all the warmth and love in his heart to you, just as always. Hugging you tightly again, Ichigo closes his eyes. "I knew you'd come. If nobody else would, you would."

"You trusted that even after…?"

Ichigo holds your face carefully, like the finest china that will break at just the slightest mistouch. "It'll take more than that to make me lose faith in you. A lot more."

Ichigo dips down for an all-too-brief kiss, one that only promises more to come at a better time. He's certainly missed you as much as you missed him, and your sweet love has always been sure to get his fill of you when he can.

"Alright, lovebirds!" Renji calls over his shoulder, but the little smirk on his face betrays any sense of irritation he tries to force out. "We've got a job to do, y’know!”

“And you're waiting for someone else to lead the way?” Ichigo fires back, and even as they squabble during the journey through these unforgiving sands, Ichigo's large hand holding yours is all it takes for peace to settle within you again.

United, you'll stand.

#ichigo kurosaki x reader #ichigo kurosaki x you #ichigo x reader #ichigo x you #ichigo imagine #ichigo kurosaki imagine #bleach imagine #bleach x reader #reader insert #x reader #fic

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greyskyflowers · 8 months

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I really like the idea that Ichigo has always done some strange stuff, even before any of them had any idea about soul society.

Chad, Orihime, and Uryu (as well as Tatsuki, Keigo and Mizuiro) very much take the approach of don't say a fucking thing, leave him alone to anyone who looks like they may say something about it.

Ichigo makes a strange noise? They've figured out which noises are good ones and which ones are bad ones.

He's a little colder, distant, and sometimes a little cruel? Give him a little bit and he'll be fine again.

He gets a little too bright eyed during fights? Licks blood off his lips and sometimes off a wound? His nails look a little sharp and his teeth a little meaner? All good. He'll beat the shit out of someone, pace around a bit and be fine again.

Eats an unbelievable amount of food and still stays on the lean side of skinny? It's a metabolism thing.

Runs a little colder? He's great to sit by in the hot summer!

Gets a little distracted, looks at things and listen to noises that aren't there? That's normal, he's been able to see weird stuff his whole life!

Even after they all gain the ability see ghosts and that's obviously not what Ichigo is doing, they just tell people he's listening to and seeing ghosts.

Everyone else is a little confused by that but it's clear they're not going to get a real answer and tbh they're not sure they want one.

It's also important that they don't call too much attention to it. Ichigo doesn't seem to realize he does some of those things.

Like when someone pointed out the blood thing and he spent 20 minutes gagging and throwing up, tongue still stained rusty from the blood.

Or when someone mentioned the noises and he doesn't speak for days, quiet and withdrawn. And even now he cuts the noises off, biting them back and swallowing them down.

Or when people called him cruel, a thug, someone who wants to see others hurt, because he got into fight. He didn't fight back the next few times he got jumped, letting the hits land and taking it because the fear that he was all those things people said was stronger than any pain.

All the times he kept his mouth shut because someone joked about wolf teeth.

Or when he ripped his nails down until they bled so they weren't sharp enough to hurt anyone on accident.

Or when he kept his eyes down so no one could say he wore colored contacts to go with his "dyed" hair.

Orihime being so upset after the cookies she had given to someone, who made fun of a noise Ichigo made, had ended up bad! Oh no, oh gosh, how terrible that they got food poisoning! She's so sorry about that but there's a gleam to her eyes that has everyone backing off.

Chad disappearing and coming back with busted knuckles that go unnoticed, Ichigo focused on keeping his fingers curled into his palms and his mouth firmly shut.

Uryu ripping into some of the people who started rumors about Ichigo, channeling every cold and cruel part of him until several people are crying and no one dares say Ichigo's name for awhile.

Tatsuki throwing punches and Keigo attempting too, Mizuiro making things happen that no one can directly link back to him but everyone knows it's him.

Ichigo doesn't ask for a lot, but he gives a lot. Too much.

So, they can give him this. They will give him this. Let him do his odd, little quirks and they'll deal with anyone who tries to say anything.

💀

Shinigami are strange, strange enough that Ichigo blends in with them well, even though he's still sometimes a little strange for a shinigami.

Chad, Orihime, and Uryu are pleased that Ichigo fits in so well with all these new people, especially as they get to know them more.

Renji and Ikkaku are animalistic with too sharp teeth and a wild air to them.

Kenpachi is a monster wearing human skin.

Rukia, and her brother, have moments of cruelty and distance.

Unohana is something old and dangerous.

Kisuke is... unsettling, raises the hair on the back of their necks a little bit but Ichigo likes him. And as unnerving as he is, he's been very helpful.

Yoruichi has a mean streak in her that is very much like a cat batting around a dying mouse.

The visored are even worse.

The humans don't meet them until Ichigo after has already firmly included them in his ever growing group of important people.

The visored are unsettling in a way similar to Kisuke, but heavier. Something about them makes the little animal part of their brains sit up and take notice, the hairs on the backs of their necks standing up and they have to fight the urge to run.

But the visored are strange in the same way Ichigo is strange.

And they'll gives some bonus points to Kisuke and his, because they've never so much as batted an eyelash at Ichigo's more bizarre quirks.

The visored show off too sharp teeth in proud smiles and angry snarls.

They make odd noises between themselves and understand them.

They force people to look them in the eyes, black and gold occasionally making an appearance.

They lick at their wounds absent-mindedly and on purpose.

They make no apologies for who they are or how uncomfortable they make anyone.

More than anything though, they let Ichigo do those things. There a fondness to all of them when Ichigo does something strange front of them. Something that's normal to them.

💀

Ichigo doesn't seem to realize that everyone is actually charmed by his little quirks.

He's saved most of them enough times that there isn't much he could do that would make them anything less then incredibly fond.

It's fun and interesting to see all the things Ichigo does when he's happy and comfortable.

He does a little head tilt, exposed throat move to certain people. The humans don't even think he notices it, it took them awhile to notice it.

He does it to most of the captains, excluding a few like Mayuri and Soi Fon. Particularly to Unohana, Kenpachi, Byakuya and Toshiro for the captains. He does it to Kisuke and the visored.

They notice it and they just roll with it. Kisuke and Shinji (and most of the visored to be completely honest) touch his neck and shoulders a lot.

Unohana makes the smallest nod to him and never acknowledges it again.

It took Ichigo a long time to be comfortable enough with them to touch as much as he wants to. After they saved Rukia and returned home, he was constantly touching them. Grabbing at hands, throwing arms around them, sitting close enough to touch, etc. He even includes Tatsuki, Keigo and Mizuiro in the new, open affection.

He's comfortable enough to be that way with a lot of people now.

Shinigami, and the visored, are actually a pretty tactile and intimate bunch. Living as long as they do and having such dangerous and traumatic lives, makes touch and comfort very important.

So it's not uncommon for Ichigo to disappear, finding someone to nap with or someone finding him. People are already drawn to Ichigo, getting to know him and all his quirks just makes them love him more.

---------💀--------------💀‐----------------

*holds up photo of Ichigo*

Karin, Yuzu, Chad, Orihime, Uryu, Tasuki, Keigo, Mazuri: he is baby

*hold up photo of Ichigo after fighting Aizen*

His sisters, the humans, Kisuke, Yoruichi, Kukaku, Ganju, most of soul society, all the visored, Nel: baby

*holds up photo of Ichigo fighting yhwach*

His sisters, the humans, Kisuke, Yoruichi, Kukaku, Ganju, all of soul society, all the visored, Nel, Grimmjow, Dondochakka, Pesche, Bawabawa : ba~by

#bleach #ichigo kurosaki #chad yasutora #uryu ishida #orihime inoue #kisuke urahara #visored #i think being part hollow probably does some weird stuff to you - and shinigami are probably pretty fucking weird too #reaping souls with greyskyflowers #Is this platonic? romantic? both? neither? whatever else? *shrugs*#au ideas #hollow instincts au??

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jubileemon · 7 months

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Orihime Inoue: A Case Study in Shounen Genre

Orihime Inoue from Bleach is often perceived by fans as the "damsel-in-distress" and "designated love interest" in the shounen genre. However, this perception overlooks the complexity of her character and the psychological factors that contribute to her portrayal.

Self-Doubt and Insecurity

Orihime struggles with her insecurities, which are deeply rooted in her traumatic past experiences, particularly being bullied for her hair and the loss of her brother. Growing up in a household where she was mistreated by her abusive parents, Orihime found solace and stability in her brother, Sora. However, his untimely death in a car accident shattered her sense of security and left her emotionally vulnerable.

Living alone in Karakura Town, supported by a distant relative under the condition of maintaining good grades, Orihime bears the weight of her past trauma while navigating the challenges of everyday life. Despite her academic success, she grapples with feelings of inadequacy and uncertainty, haunted by the specter of her past and the loss of her loved ones.

Orihime's self-doubt and insecurity manifest in various aspects of her life, from her relationships with others to her own sense of worth. She often second-guesses herself and hesitates to assert her needs or desires, fearing rejection or disappointment. This can lead to her actions being misinterpreted or overlooked by others who fail to grasp the depth of her emotional struggles.

Reluctance to Express Feelings: Throughout the series, Orihime often hesitates to express her true feelings, particularly towards Ichigo. She harbors romantic feelings for him but struggles to convey them openly due to her fear of rejection and uncertainty about how he may perceive her.

Questioning Her Worth: Orihime questions her own worth and abilities, especially in comparison to her peers. She often doubts whether she is strong enough or capable enough to make a difference in the battles they face, despite her evident bravery and determination.

Seeking Validation: Orihime would've sought validation from others as a means of bolstering her fragile self-esteem. She often looks to Ichigo and her friends for reassurance and approval, seeking validation of her worth through their acceptance and acknowledgment.

Feeling Like a Burden: Orihime struggles with feelings of inadequacy and guilt, believing that she is a burden to those around her. She internalizes a sense of responsibility for the hardships faced by her friends and allies, feeling guilty for not being able to do more to help them.

Self-Sacrificial Tendencies: Orihime exhibits self-sacrificial tendencies, often putting herself in harm's way to protect others. While her bravery is admirable, it also reflects a deep-seated belief that her own well-being is of lesser importance compared to the safety and happiness of those she cares about.

Kindness and Helping Others

Orihime often puts others' needs before her own and goes out of her way to make people happy, even at the expense of her own well-being.

Throughout the series, Orihime often prioritizes the well-being of others over her own, particularly in her role as a healer and supporter. She uses her abilities to heal injuries and provide emotional support to her friends and allies, even placing herself in danger to ensure their safety. Orihime frequently makes personal sacrifices for the sake of others, demonstrating her selflessness and willingness to put their needs before her own. For example, she volunteers to accompany Ichigo and his friends on dangerous missions, knowing the risks involved but choosing to help them regardless.

Orihime's people-pleasing behavior is rooted in her desire for acceptance and validation from those around her. She often goes above and beyond to make others happy, seeking approval and affirmation as a means of feeling valued and appreciated in return.

Feelings of Love

Is anyone else bugged by the fact that Orihime has so far not actually confessed to Ichigo or given him any further indication of her feelings since her saying goodbye to him while he slept?

Orihime harboured romantic feelings for Ichigo throughout the series, but struggles to express them openly due to her own insecurities and fear of rejection. Her love for Ichigo is evident in her actions, such as her unwavering support for him during battles and her willingness to sacrifice herself for his sake.

She might've feared that confessing her feelings to Ichigo could jeopardize their friendship or lead to rejection. This fear of rejection could stem from her past experiences with loss and abandonment, causing her to hesitate to take the risk of confessing her feelings openly. Orihime's insecurities could also play a role in her reluctance to confess her feelings to Ichigo, since she struggled with feelings of inadequacy and unworthinenn, leading her to question whether Ichigo could ever reciprocate her feelings.

Orihime's admiration for Ichigo as a hero figure may lead her to prioritize his well-being above her own desires, causing her to suppress her own emotions for the sake of his happiness.

Misinterpreted Jealousy

Orihime's jealousy towards Rukia, as described, seems to stem from her perception of Rukia's ability to pull Ichigo out of his depressive state during a difficult time. Orihime's statement about feeling "useless" suggests that she struggles with feelings of inadequacy and low self-esteem. She truly believed that she was unable to have the same positive influence on Ichigo as Rukia, leading her to doubt her own worth and contribution to their relationship.

Why Orihime Deserved Her Happy Ending?

Orihime's happy ending in the final chapter of Bleach brings her full circle, providing her with the companionship and love she longed for throughout the series. By marrying the man of her dreams and even starting a family with him, Orihime finds the fulfilment and connection she craved, no longer alone in the world.

Despite the trauma and hardships she faced, Orihime remained hopeful as she never gave up on the possibility of finding love and happiness. Her marriage to Ichigo and the birth of their son Kazui represent the culmination of her dreams and desires, marking a new chapter in her life filled with pure happiness.

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harmonyloveangels1990 · 8 months

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Open Mind Control RP (Male, Female, or Futa only)

Orihime Kurosaki had been invited to go with her friends to go to this resort for a little girl time. Orihime didn't mind as she was looking forward to spending time with her friends. While her husband went to go with their son to go visit their friends in the Soul Society. Unaware though the whole thing was a trick.

Your muse, obsessed with the MILF since high school had been looking to get her all alone. Looking to use a special mind control spell on her. To not only have some fun with her, fuck her hard, but also knock her up. Without her having any idea that she got violated.

And so when she returns home, she'll carry your muse's child.

"Oh um hello there. Are you the one in charge? I'm Orihime. I was told my friends would be here and are the ones who set up the reservation?"

((Impregnation RP, have fun knocking her up without her knowing about it))

#open rp #open #open starter #open to all #open to anyone #open to everyone #rp

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muzansfangs · 1 year

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They accidentally see you naked.

Starring: Abarai Renji, Aizen Sosuke, Urahara Kisuke, Haschwalth Jugram.

Format: short imagines.

Warnings: nsfw, fluff, language, horny thoughts, implied sexual tension on previous encounters, masturbation, f!reader, suggestive themes, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (m!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), slight altered narration of the canon events for Aizen’s part, possible spoiler in Haschwalth part and mention to kidnapping (?).

Plot: what happens when you are naked and they accidentally walk on you, catching a full glimpse of your bare body in all its glory? Hormones cannot always be contained.

PART ONE | PART TWO

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Abarai Renji.

Rummaging through Orihime’s clothes, covered in flour and baking powder from head to toe, you checked the clock briefly. You had to make it in time, or else you were going to fail your best friend’s expectations and mess up her plan to spend a lovely night with Ichigo. When she told you she had convinced him to join her for dinner, you wasted no time in helping her cooking something decent to eat. You were her best friend, after all. You were not going to let her date get ruined by a predictable food poison, considering Orihime’s creations. Additionally, you cared about Ichigo too much to let him die like that.

Now the question is: ‘how did you end up in that situation, anyway?’.

You had spent almost the entire afternoon cooking by her side, when she suddenly remembered that she had to go to buy something to drink and meet up with Sado. You had no problem in taking care of the kitchen without her assistance and you still needed to cook the dessert anyway, therefore you assured her that, by the time she had made her comeback, she would have found a delicious cake in the fridge. Trusting in your abilities blindly, Orihime left and you wasted no time in collecting the ingredients for the cake.

Odds, however, were not in your favor. Literally.

When you finally spotted the packet of flour, you sighed in contempt for it was settled on the top shelf of the cupboard far from your reach. Now, confinding into your skills, you dragged a chair towards the counter and climbed on top of it. The clumsy version of yourself decided to show up, though, and as you grasped the packet, you lost your balance and fell down on the floor. Your grip on the packet loosend and it ended up ripping, causing the content to fall all over yourself. Never in your life something like that had happened to you and you felt in an awful distress.

Wiping away some powder from your face, you stood up and dashed to your best friend’s bedroom. You were pretty sure you could find something to wear and, honestly, Orihime would have not minded lending you some of her clothes.

Yet, your best friend was tired of you and Renji’s dynamics. Sneaky glances, snippy comments, lingering touches. The attraction was evident.

Therefore, she had set up a trap for you. As you finally pulled out some red shorts and an oversized t-shirt from a drawer, Renji Abarai was already on his way to Orihime house, totally unaware that the only person he would have found in there was you. Why? Your smart friend had made him believe her house would have hosted a small party with your whole group of friends and he had accepted the invitation.

Truth to be told, it took her a while to convince him but, when she mentioned you were going to be there, he had changed his mind.

Tossing your dirty clothes carelessly on the floor, you ran to the bathroom and took a quick shower to remove the flour from your hair, cleavage and improbable parts of your body. Renji, in the meanwhile, knocked on the front door, calling out your name along with Ichigo’s, Rukia’s, Uryu’s and Orihime’s ones. Naturally, you could not hear him and he thought that kicking the door open was a good idea.

You had just stepped out of the shower and, since you thought you were alone, you had not wrapped a towel around your naked body to make your way back to the bedroom, where you had left the clean clothes you had picked.

Now, as you stepped out of the bathroom and flicked your gaze up, you thought you had been a victim of a concussion and that you obviously were having an allucination. Renji’s rounded eyes and his parted lips, though, made you realize it was real. He was there, in front of you. Squeaking out in panic, you blushed and ran back to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you as you felt your heart thrumming into your chest.

“What the hell are you doing here?! You are such a moron!” you snapped from behind the door, knowing damn well that Renji was probably still standing in the corridor and trying to figure out what on the holy Earth had just happened.

“Me?! What the hell are you doing naked?! I never met someone walking around a fucking house completely naked!” Renji fired back, banging his fist on the door in frustration.

Despite being irritated by your antics, Renji could not deny that the sight of your curves, of your naked skin, was tattooed into his mind. You had no idea of the amount of nights he had spent thinking about how your skin tasted after a bath, or how it would have felt like ripping your clothes off of you. You were absolutely beautiful, a sight to behold, the woman he had to make his.

In the privacy of his bedroom, in the middle of the night, he had moaned your name as he had touched himself in maddness and desire. How many times he had imagined you, mouth hanging open, writhing beneath him, as he rutted his hips onto yours. And now, now he had had the chance to see how beautiful you really were without any item shielding your magnificent body from his eyes.

“You’re such a jerk! I didn’t know you were coming over! — you quipped suddenly, grasping a towel and wrapping it around yourself — Also, what are you even doing here?! You should leave and I should too, before Orihime and Ichigo come back” you reasoned, glancing at your reflection in the mirror. Gosh, your face was still beet red and you were visibly shaken.

Renji Abarai had seen you naked. Your crush had just had a full clear view of your bare body. It was not exactly the way you had planned to let him see you like that for the first time.

Renji scoffed “What? I’ve come over for the stupid party Orihime is hosting…” he replied, furrowing his brows at your statement.

You opened the door hesitantly, peeking out to lock eyes with him “What? Are you serious?” you whispered, relaxing a bit as you tried to connect the dots. Oh, now you could see it. Inoue Orihime had tricked you and that idiot of Renji!

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose as the red-haired shinigami stared at you dumbfounded. What was wrong with him? He stared at you, hooded eyes and a weird expression on his face, without saying a word. Well, of course, he was still fighting back the urge to pin you up against the door and fuck you senseless.

“She trolled us” you stated, folding your arms against your chest and leaning your back against the wall, in a pathetic attempt to snap him out of the catatonic status he had fallen into. It was pointless. At the lack of feedback, you let your eyes trailing down his body and you gawked at the prominent tent you saw in his pants.

You clasped your hand over your mouth and slapped his chest, earning a grunt from him along with a homicidal glance.

“Oi!” he protested, clenching his fists down his sides and taking a menacing step closer to you.

“Did you get a boner from staring at me?! You are such a pig, Renji, o my God! I can’t believe I have a cr—…” you cut yourself off as soon as you saw Renji’s features relaxing and a smug smile crossing his lips. You were so done with yourself.

Did you just confess your feelings to him?

“Fuck” you uttered, hiding your face behind your hands and turning your back at him.

His hand softly squeezing your shoulder, though, caught you off guard. You felt his chest gracing your back and you slowly lowered your hands from your face. You were even more surprised to feel his arms gently snaking around your waist and involving you in a gentle hug, despite his abrasive nature. It was pleasantly unexpected.

“Hey, it’s fine. It’s clear that we like each others. I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but you’re hot. — he started, propping his chin on top of your head — Why don’t you get dressed and we go out on a date? That’d be nice, right?” he asked, swallowing his pride as he came to terms with the fact that he could not truly stay away from you for any longer.

You felt your face heat up but smiled and nodded your head, before glancing up and him “Oh, it looks like someone truly got some balls down here, huh? I’m totally in!” you teased him, chuckling and dashing down to Orihime’s bedroom to get ready.

Renji rolled his eyes “I swear, I’ll fuck that sassy attitude out of you one day” he shouted after you, before entering the bathroom to get rid of that little problem making his ripped jeans uncomfortable.

Urahara Kisuke.

Working with Kisuke was both stressful and enjoyable at the same time. He was hilarious, kind and generous, but extremely lazy. That peculiar trait of his personality, of course, was enough to make you slightly jumpy and sleep-deprived because you had to take care of the shop both day and night. Why did you do it? Well, at first, you needed some extra money to pay for your studies and you craved some indipendence, but then you started to develop a small crush for the blonde shop-keeper and working by his side became more of a self-indulgent activity than a duty.

Now, when the time of festivities came, you were well prepared to run around the shop to satisfy your costumers. Sometimes, you even decorated the shelves and put on some soft music to cheer up the atmosphere. Indeed, that was exactly what you did that day: it was carnival, after all.

However, today, you had had the splendid idea to dress up as a bunny. Or, to be fair, a sensual bunny. You knew Kisuke Urahara like the back of your hand and you perfectly knew what you would have done to him by ambling around with those lovely black, soft ears over your head and a tight leather corset embracing your curves. You had decided to push his buttons, to test his self-control and, by the time you walked into the shop that morning dressed up like this, you did not fail to notice the way his eyes widened even so slightly as he hid his grin behind his fan.

Working by your side was the equivalent of experiencing his personal living hell. Every single time you passed by him, you made sure to brush your gloved fingers against his chest, your lashes fluttering in a dramatically slow manner that made his pants tight. You were playing with fire, but it was a dangerous game you were willing to play.

Kisuke was obviously intrigued. He had dreamt about you since Ichigo had introduced you two. The way you always looked dashing, the way your glossy lips captivated him and made him pant in the privacy of his bedroom, as soon as your shift ended and you left, was mind-blowing. He was so tired of having to reach his climax alone. He wanted nothing more than your soft, plumped lips wrapped around his cock as he held your hair behind your nape for him to thrust into your mouth easily.

“Nice choice of items” he had purred eventually, watching you from behind his blonde eyelashes, as his tongue teasingly darted out of his mouth to lick a stripe off of his lollipop.

What an infuriatingly handsome son of a bitch he was.

The way he looked at you as his tongue kept on savouring the sugary candy was making your mouth dry. He had read your cards, had he not? You pressed your thighs together, mentally cursing his name as you glanced up at him with a slight blush.

Oh, how you badly you wanted him to treat your pussy the way he was licking that stupid lollipop. The former Captain had apparently decided to mess with your head.

You cleared your throat and hummed, pretending not to be affected by his words and antics “Thank you so much” you simply replied, a thin-lipped smile crossing your face.

He stared at you intently for a few seconds, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face, before he decided to taunt you again “Ah, I wonder how good they’d look on the floor. — he casually commented — I guess I’ll never know, though”.

You felt your stomach twist and your fingers curled on the edge of the counter as you let his words sink in. You had won, but he had clearly called your bluff. The time left to spend in his company was mercifully short, by now. The night had veiled the sky and you had closed the shop. Walking home alone in that short dress was not a great idea, therefore you had brought some clothes with you to change.

Without saying a word, you simply grabbed your bag from the shelf and walked off to the back of the shop. You took off your gloves, your skirt, your stupid corset and allowed yourself to breathe properly again. Your chest was completely exposed and your panties were so thin that it felt like you were not wearing them at all.

Before you had time to reach for the zip of your bag, the door swung open and you shrieked in embarrassment as Kisuke’s voice rang in your ears.

“I was thinking that maybe we could—…” he started, but he never finished that sentence.

His lollipop slipped from his fingers, clattering on the floor as a shaky breath left his parted lips. You, the girl he wanted to ask out that very night, were standing a few feet away from him in only her thong and those cute little bunny ears he had fantasized about for the last four hours. God, how badly he wanted to see them fall from your head as you rode him to exhaustion. You looked like a goddess and, consequentially, he could not tear his eyes from your naked frame.

“Kisuke!” you squirmed, your arms trying to cover your naked breasts as he did not seem to be able to move.

“I am so sorry, but you look so beautiful it’d be a shame to look away…” he breathed out, making you blush and reach down to unzip the bag laying at your feet with one hand, careful not to expose your nipples to his attentive eyes once again.

“Wait!” he fretted again and you flicked your gaze up on him again.

He took his hat off, a thing you had rarely seen him doing before. His eyes seemed to twinkle in a malicious light, but they were kind “How can I make it up to you?” he asked, keeping the eye-contact with you.

The tension was tangible and, honestly, what was the use in dressing up again if he had already took a full view of your naked body? Was it not supposed to happen sooner or later? You had been eye-fucking each others for hours, after all.

You sighed and arched an eyebrow up, cocking your head to the side as you finally found the courage to speak and shame left your body.

“Well, since you dropped your lollipop and you have nothing to run your tongue on anymore, why don’t you give me a taste of your skills? You surely had some fun in driving me mad too, right?” you teased him, leaning your back against the wall and winking at him from across the room.

Urahara Kisuke, the damn shop-keeper, smirked and kicked the lollipop to the side with his foot, before reaching you with a few quick strides. He looked at you up and down, a faint blush on his cheeks, as he hooked his calloused hands underneath your thighs and lifted you up.

“My, my… I figured I was going to kiss your other lips by the end of the day. — he commented chuckling, as he settled you on top of a table — I’m clearly not going to complain now” he added, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your stomach until he reached the waistband of your panties.

You bit your lower lip, when he dragged the fabric down your thighs with his teeth and your fingers tangled his soft hair “You lucky bastard…” was all that you said.

In fact, the way his tongue flicked your clitoris, with your legs draped over his shoulders, was enough to make you babble out incoherent words for the rest of the night.

Aizen Sosuke.

You had always had a weird way to get under his skin. From the moment he had met you, despite you being a mere human with some peculiar ability, he knew you were not as judgemental as the other members of your crew of human friends. You were a bit older, you were responsible, you had a brilliant mind and, obviously, he loved the way he could not manipulate you. He had the constant feeling he could never get to corrupt your soul, your vision of the world. You were too rational, even for someone like him. Deep down, though, he sensed you were not totally unaffected by his charisma.

Aizen Sosuke was not only a godly handsome man: he was charming, brilliant, and, much to your dismay, someone you had undeniably fallen in love with.

You had figured something dark lurked underneath his friendly façade almost immediately. Curiosity killed the cat and you had found yourself glued to his hip. Before you could venture further into his business, though, he had made sure you caught a glimpse of his dark side. He had clearly told you not to meddle in his private life, but you feared to lose him. You feared something would have happened sooner or later and therefore, not to watch your heart break, you had left the Soul Society without your friends or bothering to letting him know.

You had not heard from him for a whole week. You tried not to think about him, but his ghost was everywhere you went, in every activity you did. His name indulged on your tongue way too much for your own good, when you cursed yourself for having picked the worst Shinigami ever to have a crush on. His presence in your life had affected you so much, to the point that trying to go on and live your ordinary life as a human was impossible. It was like living in a perpetual agony.

That evening, you were coming back from the gym when you got caught in a pouring rain. Naturally, you had not brought an umbrella with you and, by the time you got back home, you were soaked. What a misfortune, a thing you were getting used to lately.

As soon as you unlocked the door of your flat and stepped inside, you took off your shoes and discarded you bag on the floor before ambling absent-mindedly to your bathroom and grabbing a few towels to dry yourself. You lived alone, you did not think that a certain someone was actually waiting for you in the shadows. Oh, Aizen was so upset with you. His eyes followed your every move attentively, pondering when it would have been the perfect moment to step out and make his presence known.

You were beautiful, so tempting, even for someone like him who believed to be a god. Maybe it was your innocence, the goodness in you, but he was still a man. He was drawn to your beauty like a moth to a flame.

As you took off your drenched t-shirt and bra, you proceeded to drag your leggings down your legs and shivered. A warm shower was highly needed and, as soon as you got rid of your panties too, you let out a sigh of relief and glanced up at your reflection in the mirror. You were tired, that was true, but the scream that left your lips though was not due to the dark circles around your eyes, giving you a jumpscare. It was due to the presence of the man standing right behind you.

His glasses, his brown locks and his handsome face were unmistakable. Aizen Sosuke. The Captain of the Fifth Division was right behind you with a smug smirk crossing his lips and an his eyes transfixed on your naked frame. He was not even trying to hide the wolfish grin on his lips.

You blushed from head to toe and tried to run into the cubicle of the shower, hoping that the thick, red courtain would have shielded your curves from him. You never stepped into the shower, though. Aizen had other plans in store for you and, in a swift motion, you found yourself pinned to nearest wall. His hand, firmly wrapped around the back of your neck, forced your cheek against the white tiled wall and his body was pressed up against your back.

“It’s good to see you again, darling” he hissed in your ear, his hot breath fanning the base of your neck and sending shivers down your spine.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you blurted out, trying to ignore the fact that, not only you were naked, but Sosuke did not even seem to be bothered by your nudity at all. The bastard had no shame.

He grinned “You know exactly why I’m here” he declared, taking his glasses off and settling them carelessly on the counter at his right.

You blushed and gritted your teeth, batting your eyes closed to steady your breath. You wanted to lash out at him, tell him how you hated the way he had pushed you away, throwing fact at his perfect face. He was the reason why you had left in the first place.

“Get out of my sight… You shouldn’t be here” you stated, although you quite did not want him to go. Not again. You did not want to spend any more time without him, no matter how irritated you were, how scared you were. You needed him. You needed to get upset every time he was overly kind with you and showed off those perfect deceitful smiles of his. The smirks you had fallen for…

“Tsk, tell me to leave and I may consider this option” he cooed, his grip on the back of your neck tightening as he pressed his clothed crotch against your ass.

You gasped, flushing up even more at his action. Was he excited? Did he really find you attractive? Was it another way to fool you?

“Aizen…” you whispered.

“Come on, say it. Tell me to leave, tell me to stop or tell me something else. Tell me what do you want me to do” he taunted you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he made it painly clear that leaving was not in his plans. Oh, he was far from wanting to leave. He had come here to confront you, to deliver his message for you personally. Eveything was clearly going according to his plan. He was so obsessed with perfectionism and you, of course, were exactly what he needed right now. You were part of his plan too, somehow.

You cursed yourself for enjoying this and, as you sighed and gave him the green card to proceed, you felt your inevitable fall approaching.

“Stay” you breathed out, earning an dark chuckle from the man behind you.

“That’s what I thought” he said, slithering his hand between your legs and plunging his fingers into your core without warning you. You moaned, a little startled by the sudden move, your inner walls gradually trying to adjust to the intrusion.

Sosuke bit your shoulder softly, as his fingers pumped into you deeply at a rough but steady pace. It was almost as if he wanted to punish you. He always had everything under control, it was almost frustrating. He enjoyed the way you moaned softly, under your breath, not to pamper him and make his chest swell up in pride.

However, as he pulled them out of you and you whined for the sudden sensation of emptiness, he hastily pulled his pants down and thrusted up into you. The sinful moan, strained in pain for his roughness, was enough to make him smirk in satisfaction.

“Don’t you fucking dare to leave like that ever again —he growled, thrusting into you at a feral pace — I’ll fuck an apology out of you”.

And he stack up to his vow.

Haschwalth Jugram.

You were not friends. You were far from that. You were enemies, actually. He had kidnapped you almost two months ago, making all of your friends worried sick about you. When you had asked him why he had done it, he dismissively replied that it was necessary, that he saw potential in you, that your friends would have fallen into his trap by coming to your rescue.

However, as weeks passed by, you noticed a change in his behavior. He was no more in his typical haste, he stayed a little longer to talk to you, he made sure you did not feel like a prisoner. You found out he was not a real monster. At least, not with you. Sometimes he was the one to deliver your meals to you. You never asked him why he did it. You accepted his kindness, despite the difficulty of keeping up a conversation with him for more than ten minutes. Haschwalth Jugram was so bashful. It irked you how he could have been the incarnation of the Prince Charming, if he was not a villain.

Now, you had to admit that, among other things, you had not failed to appreciate his appearence. The blue-eyed man was handsome as hell. Almost too perfect to walk this Earth, too deadly to be a human. Finding him attractive was wrong on so many levels, but you tried to hold on onto that trivial thought to take your mind off. You were still a prisoner, after all.

Now, he was a respectful man. You had noticed that he always came to check on you at the same hour. That night was not supposed to be an exception. You were laying on your back on the soft bed of your room, rosy cheeks and fuzzy mind. You were indulging on the thought of him again. It was an unhealthy obsession, a lustful and sinful thought you would have gladly got rid of, but in that very moment you could not.

You gave up. You slipped your shorts off, your panties following their same destiny on the floor along with your t-shirt. You laid down bare, your fingers travelling down your abdoment and finally reaching down to your aching core. A sigh of relief fell from your lips as you started to draw figures eights on your bundle of nerves. Oh, how badly you wished he was the one to do it. He had long fingers that you were more than sure would have fitted perfectly into you.

His name escaped your lips softly once, twice and thrice. It was hard not to, when your body was on fire. You desired him, you wanted to see his mask of pride slip as he took you on that bed.

You were so lost into the realm of pleasure that you did not even heard the door creak open and saw the tall figure looming in your room, until he spoke and your blood ran cold.

“Do you need something—…” the tall blonde said, only to feel his tongue freeze in his mouth at the sight before his icy-blue eyes.

You were staring up at him in pure shock, naked, with your legs wide open and your fingers buried deep into your core. He seemed to be composed, despite the awkward situation and it took you a few seconds to reach and slip under the covers to hide your nudity from his glacial eyes.

After enduring the most embarrassing staring contest of your life between you two, he cleared his throat and spoke again “I did not intend to disturb you. I was passing by your door and I heard my name. I apologize” he flatly declared. But you did not fail to catch the way his left hand twitched and the way his pants seemed to tighten slightly. Did he appreciate the view?

You blushed and nodded your head “Let’s pretend it never happened. — you breathed out, careful not to let the blankets fall — Do you need something? Can I help you in any way?” you added, avoiding to make eye-contact with him again.

The blonde man took a moment before answering, his cold eyes still lingering over your frame, studying the way the silky covers were draped over your body and exalting your curves. It was not good at all. He was losing his focus because of you. The worst part of it was that it was not exactly the first time, but it was surely a problem since it was happening before your eyes.

“No, I’m perfectly fine. — he replied shortly — I’ll take my leave”.

And with that, he left your bedroom, slamming the door behind him in frustration. However, he laid his back against it, running a gloved hand over his visage as he tried to compose himself. It was hard coming to terms with the fact that he liked you. Having seen you naked, however, had devasted him. He was hungry. He was so hungry he had to have you now, even for once. Even if he would have not got to touch you ever again.

“Bloody Hell…” he uttered under his breath, before opening the door again and dashing into your bedroom. He locked the door and walked up to you, stopping beside you and taking his coat off. His hands immediately reached down for his belt and he unbuckled his belt, his eyes clouded over in lust as he stared at you as if you were his property.

“Actually, there’s a thing you can do for me. Suck me off. Open that pretty mouth of yours that moaned my name so sweetly” he growled, unzipping his pants and pulling them down enough for you to slip his hard cock out of his boxers.

Your mouth watered and your cheeks flushed as you sat up hastily and flicked your gaze up to meet his “Is that a command?” you whispered teasingly, only to make him snort and grip your hair gently.

“Yes, it is. And make sure to swallow” he crooned, watching the way you smirked and wrapped your lips around him so diligently.

In the end, you had got what you wanted from the beginning. He lost his temper, you lost your dignity.

Tags: @stygianoir @idkyetwow @shattereddreamssara @yunixkill

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hi there! It’s my first Bleach post and I hope you can appreciate it. Likes, comments and reposts are appreciated! I am sorry for the delay, but I am currently very busy!

X O X O

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killusmoke · 1 month

Text

❝I'll be by your side forever, love❞

♡ - Where you get hurt during your volleyball game, Ichigo takes care of you .

ichigo x f!reader

Disclaimer - No powers or anything of the sort in this story, it's modernized .

The volleyball court buzzed with bursts of energy and anticipation as the game reached its peak. The atmosphere was electric, with what seemed like the entire school in attendance, filling the benches with a sea of faces from various places in the campus, some not even attending the same school.

It was your 6th game, the most challenging one yet. The daunting Hakoniwa High School, renowned for their ruthless tactics and years of dominance in the sport, stood as the ultimate rival in winning. Determined to topple their reign, your team had prepared meticulously, ensuring that they are readily prepared for this intense game.

However, today held an even greater significance. It was the first game where all your friends, classmates, and teachers had gathered to witness your skill. Among the crowd were your closest friends Orihime, Mizuiro, Rukia, and most importantly, your loving boyfriend Ichigo.

As the game progressed, you found yourself struggling from time to time, overcome by nerves and the weight of expectations. The pressure intensified as you made errors, causing disappointment to well up within you. Doubt crept into your thoughts, and you sought solace in Ichigo's embrace.

"It's okay, (Y/N)," Ichigo's soothing voice whispered, his hand gently stroking your hair. "Mistakes happen, but they don't define your future or your worth as an athlete. I know how hard you've worked, and I'm proud of you, we all are, no matter the outcome."

Sniffles and quiet sobs erupted from your trembling form, tears staining the fabric of Ichigo's black hooded jacket. The weight of your perceived failure bore down heavily, causing your voice to falter as you expressed your frustrations through hiccups and broken words.

"I-I don't deserve to be on this team. I did so h-horribly, Ichigo, you don't understand!" your voice quivered, choked with self-doubt and despair. Desperation drove you to cling tighter to Ichigo, seeking solace in his unwavering presence.

"Don't speak of yourself that way," Ichigo's voice held a quiet strength, his words laced with conviction. "You've poured your heart and soul into this sport, and one bad game doesn't define you. I understand your disappointment, my love, believe me I do."

With a tenderness that melted away the anguish, Ichigo gently lifted your tear-stained face, his eyes filled with empathy. Like a gentle butterfly, his lips pressed against your wet cheeks, leaving a trail of fleeting kisses. Each kiss carried a message of reassurance and love, a reminder that you were not alone in your pain.

Your sobs subsided, replaced by hiccups and sniffles as you continue to clung tightly to his black hooded jacket, finding solace in his words and affection. The love you felt for him deepened in that moment, his support a healing for your wounded confidence.

As you regained your composure, memories of the game flooded your mind. It was a nerve-wracking experience from the start, knowing that your playing time was often limited. However, to your surprise, the coach had chosen you as a starter for this crucial match. You internally signed as the weight of responsibility and the fear of disappointing those who had believed in you now weigh heavily on your shoulders.

Now, as the game neared its end, you found yourself panting heavily, hands on knees, catching your breath. The opposing team had called a timeout, allowing your team to regroup and strategize. However, lost in your thoughts, you failed to pay attention to the discussions, instead finding yourself searching for Ichigo's presence in the stands. When your eyes met his, a warm blush colored your cheeks, and he waved at you with a kind smile. It was a small but meaningful gesture that reminded you that you weren't alone in this.

The shrill sound of the referee's whistle broke through your temporary daze, jolting you back to the present. You look to the side as you see your team has already completed their chants are are returning to their original positions.

With a muttered curse, you hurriedly returned to your own position, bending your knees and bracing yourself for the opposing team's serve. Glancing at the scoreboard, your heart raced as it displayed a tense 24-24, proving intensity of the game's final set.

The sharp sound of the referee's whistle cut through the air once again, signaling the resumption of play. Your heart pounded in your chest, anticipation and adrenaline coursing through your veins. Every muscle in your body coiled with energy as you prepared to spring into action.

The ball sailed over the net, hurtling towards your side of the court. As your teammates hit the ball with ease, the ball moved towards your position. Without a moment's hesitation, you leaped, your body soaring through the air. Time seemed to slow as you met the ball with a powerful spike, the impact resonating through your arms.

Cheers erupted from the crowd as the ball soared over the net, evading the desperate attempts of the opposing team to return it. The winning point was yours, a testament to your skill and determination. The gymnasium erupted in joyful celebration, the delight of victory vibrated through the air.

However, amidst the noise of cheers and applause, a sudden, piercing scream tore through the jarring atmosphere. All eyes turned, searching for the source of the anguished cry. It was you, crumpled on the ground, your face contorted in pain as you held onto the base of your ankle

The revelry came to a screeching halt as the crowd's jubilation transformed into concern. Gasps and whispers spread like wildfire, the spectators realizing the severity of your injury. The school nurse, having witnessed the fall from her position on the sidelines, quickly running towards you. She rushed to your side, her face etched with worry and determination.

Meanwhile, the coach, his eyes widening in alarm, hurried towards you, his authoritative presence now fraught with concern. With a commanding voice, he directed the team to clear a path for the nurse and ensure your safety.

Ichigo, who had been swept up in the celebration, froze as his eyes locked onto your fallen form. In an instant, his happiness transformed into a raw mix of worry and fear. Pushing through the crowd, he reached your side, his face etched with distress.

"Y/N, what happened? Are you okay?" His voice trembled with genuine concern as he knelt down beside you, one hand hovering anxiously above your injured ankle, the other stroking your cheek.

Pain seared through your body, but you managed a weak smile, your voice strained. "I think I broke my ankle, Ichigo. But don't worry, I'm okay."

Ichigo's eyes filled with a mix of anguish and determination. Gently, he cradled your head in his hands as the school nurse called the paramedics.

As the paramedics arrived, urgency and efficiency colored their every movement. With great care, they immobilized your injured ankle and gently lifted you onto a stretcher. The pain pulsed through your body, but your focus remained on your boyfriend, who stood by your side, his worry shown deeply in his features.

"I'll be right behind you," Ichigo assured you, his voice filled with determination. "Just hold on, Y/N. I won't leave your side."

With those comforting words lingering in the air, the paramedics swiftly wheeled you out of the gymnasium, the blaring sirens of the ambulance announcing your departure. The crowd watched in silence, a mix of concern and sympathy etched on their faces, as you disappeared from view.

In the aftermath, Ichigo turned to your friends, Mizuiro, Orihime, and Rukia, who had been by your side throughout the game. His eyes, filled with a mixture of worry and determination, met theirs.

"We need to find out what's happening," Ichigo's voice held an unwavering resolve, tinged with an undercurrent of anxiety. "I'll talk to the school staff and find out which hospital they're taking her to. We can't waste any time."

Mizuiro nodded, his usually happy demeanor replaced with concern. "I'll stay here and gather any information I can. We'll do everything we can to support her."

Orihime, her warm eyes filled with empathy, spoke softly. "I'll call her family and let them know what's happened. They'll want to be here for her."

Rukia, her voice steady despite the worry in her eyes, added, "Ichigo, don't forget to take care of yourself too. Y/N needs you to be strong."

With a short nod, Ichigo acknowledged their words of support.

Without further delay, Ichigo rushed to his car, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and worry. The engine roared to life as he sped towards the hospital, definitely breaking a few laws, as every second feeling like an eternity.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Ichigo quickly navigated the corridors, his mind focused solely on reaching your side. Finally, he found himself in the room where you lay, your face etched with pain but your eyes lighting up as he entered.

"Ichigo," you whispered, your voice weak but filled with relief. "I'm so glad you're here."

He rushed to your side, his hand finding yours, intertwining fingers in a gesture of unwavering support. "I'm here, Y/N, don't worry. Tell me what the doctor said."

You took a moment to gather your thoughts, the memory of the doctor's words fresh in your mind. "They said it's a pretty nasty break, but not too severe. I'll need to wear a cast for several weeks, maybe even months. They believe I'll make a full recovery though."

Ichigo's eyes softened with a mix of relief and tenderness. "That's good news, Y/N." he says as he kisses the top of your head.

"I'll be by your side forever, love"

p.s lol js felt like writing this idk if I'm gonna continue writing for other characters, ill see!

this is also available on my Wattpad to read! check my bio to see 😊

credits to separators here

#ichigo x reader #ichigo x reader fluff #ichigo kurosaki #bleach ichigo #bleach x reader #ichigo x y/n #ichigo x you #fluff #fanfiction #ichigo kurosakifan fiction #bleach smau #ichigo fluff

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captainrukias-husband · 14 days

Text

Note: 2nd person POV/Orihime POV.

Warning: TW, alludes to abuse.

You were miles away from everything you knew and nothing here smelled familiar. The kitchen table was dressed with a white cloth, embroidered in roses, and the older woman sitting across from you had the same colored eyes you do, but they looked nothing like your father's. The glass of water sitting before you wept and wept, the glass clinking as it melted, and you could only twist your fingers into the hem of your shirt. Uncertain of yourself.

You and your brother arrived at her doorstep one rainy night and she looked at you as if you were a pest, a roach crawling across her kitchen tiles. But she hadn't turned you away, and in the darkness, sharing a futon on her living room floor, your brother mumbled to you, “This is only temporary. We're safe here. I promise.”

Sora was working today, too, and again your aunt glanced at the calendar casually. As if to remind you of temporary, of the ticking clock on the wall. She never said it aloud, but it sat in the air; it weighed heavily on the back of your neck.

Today was the third day. She had given you and Sora two weeks to find a place of your own, and while on that rainy night it had seemed like an endless amount of time, now you are realizing that it was hardly a kindness. Your brother toiled day in and day out, back when it was later than late and gone again before the sun was up. You are lonely and scared, but you can't show it, even now.

Either way, your aunt was kind enough to lend you a few dresses from the attic. The ones she might have worn as a child herself. They are made of a stiff material and smell old and stale. When you told her you did not know how to shower alone, something twisted up behind her gaze. And you recognized the look, but your aunt was quick to smother it before it could fester between you.

The water hit you dead on and you shrank from it for a second. Her nails scraped slightly as she lathered soap into your greasy hair, and this was easy. This was familiar. But when your aunt tugged at one of your arms suddenly, you locked up instinctively.

Her eyes have found the marks on your skin and this was about the time she decided she did not want to know the gritty details Sora had yet to skim over with her. She set the washcloth into your hand and told you, “There are parts of you that no one is allowed to touch without your permission. Not even family.”

Dinner that night was silent. She made vegetable soup and did not let you leave the table until you ate every last drop. You were so full, you were immediately drowsy. Sleep that night was dreamless and before you knew it, morning light was filtering through the pretty curtains. And for once, you did not feel dizzy with hunger.

Sora snored from beside you, clearly exhausted.

In the kitchen, your aunt laid out a full breakfast. And as you pulled out a chair, she said, “Tell you what. Something ever happens and your brother isn't there to hear it, you come to me."

You weren't sure what it was you found so comforting about her, but in that moment you felt as if she completely understood you, looking at you as if you weren't a child –

She willed you to pick up on her meaning, and for once you were grateful that you saw far too much.

.x.

The two weeks passed and in that blip of time, you felt as if some puzzle piece had fallen into place inside of you.

The new apartment was small, but for the first time you had your own bedroom.

For the first few weeks you had nothing more than a thin mattress and some borrowed blankets to sleep on, a plastic crate to keep your scant belongings in, and an old backpack to take to school. When you got your new uniform, you took to hanging it on the hook on the back of the door. Your brother never said it, but there was much care to be put into keeping up appearances. He invested in an iron and a board to lay your clothes on. The wrinkles smoothed away so no one could tell you live off of packaged noodles and canned food, so no one could see the leak in your ceiling or the locks on your doors; the way your brother bolted them shut every night with sweat dribbling down his temple.

More and more furniture turned up the more hours your brother took at work; a kitchen table, two rickety chairs, a bedframe for your mattress, a tiny sofa, an old television, plates and pans and cups and a sieve. There was a stack of books in the corner of your room that soon had a desk to sit on; you read through them every night until he figured out how to find channels on the TV.

“Things are looking up,” Sora said, and you had to agree.

There was more food on the table and you didn't go to bed with a burn in your stomach anymore. The apartment was beginning to look a lot like home now and when the day came that he finally hung a framed photo of the two of you in the living room, you felt your heart swell and for once you did not wonder if you are normal.

School did not become easier. You heard someone say that it was easy to tell who someone was by the state of their shoes and so you sat on the ground by the front door rubbing the scuffs from their leather faces with a rag until you could see the hallway light reflected back.

The girls at school pulled your hair, and you did not understand why. No one told you that people could be needlessly cruel like this — you’d never known someone you didn’t love to hurt you.

Something tightened behind your brother’s gaze but he did not say a word. When you returned to school the next week, your hair was finely chopped at your chin and you spent the rest of the year silent and uninteresting. The girls began to ignore you and you think this was a better fate, coming home now meant a new relief. There were no bruises on your arms anymore and for the first time since you could remember, you did not have to hide behind excuses when the nurse asked why there was a band-aid on your knee.

“I fell,” you said, and this was not a lie.

.x.

“Call me Tatsuki,” she said, wiping the back of her hand over her cheek. You could see the faint traces of scars on her legs and elbows, but the intense wave of worry you felt fell away when she told you, “I’m gonna be a champion one day.”

You found comfort in her. She was the first person you have talked to in a long time that did not share your blood. You were taken by her words, her low voice and her opinions, her laughter and her jokes. She was fresh, a new presence in your life you had not known you’d craved. At school, she swept in before the other kids could crowd in on you and drew you out with stories of tournaments and playground soccer games and her dreams of becoming famous one day.

You never invited her to your apartment.

Her parents were nice and friendly and there were photos pinned all over their walls. There was a smell to her home that was unique, made your very heart ache for a reason you could not comprehend.

“He was my best friend,” she said when she caught you lingering by a frame, tucked behind the others on the bookcase. She was little in this one, and she was grinning toothily, arm draped carelessly over the thin shoulders of a boy with orange hair and wide eyes. “We kinda grew apart.”

You might have caught glimpses of him at school, in some other class. But it was moments before you realized he was the same person. He was a little taller now, and his eyes were a completely different shape.

You hummed, surprised. “What happened?”

It was the first time she became evasive, and you knew well enough not to pry when one did. “Things changed for him at home. I guess he had to grow up quicker and he didn’t have time for the stuff we used to do anymore.”

You nodded, and then rubbed the thin layer of dust collecting on the glass.

“He has a new friend now, though,” she shrugged, turning away. “Good guy, real big. And he and I still hang out every now and then to play video games. We’re just not as close as before. Can’t talk the same anymore.”

The next time you saw him at school, it was from afar. He was leaning out an open window watching a few birds flutter about on the grass.

You wondered what kind of person he used to be.

.x.

Tatsuki promised to protect you, but you did not allow yourself to settle into this thought. There had been times in your life when promises could not be kept and you had learned that this could not be helped.

The dog, the new toys, the broken crayons, the bruises and shattered beer bottles and muffled screams through paper thin walls — these things take time and sometimes they take too long. Sometimes they never come at all.

Such was life.

And such was the way those nails found their way into the skin of your arm, the hissing insults those girls made, the way they spat you ugly and unwanted.

These things lived in conflict with one another, as sometimes when you’re sitting alone at the park waiting for her to return with a bag of chips to share, there was a boy with eyes that made your skin crawl, with sticky hands that liked to crawl unwanted up knees.

There was the recollection of a time before now, how the word no held little meaning and the response was always shut up and here, the faltering beats of your heart and the cold sweat beginning to layer your palms came natural. The proper response was never taught to you but you knew enough to slide away, to clamp your legs shut and dig the heels of your hands into them.

You could only speak using your body; there was no one here to show you how to use your voice and you were too afraid to ask at this point.

Tatsuki always returned in the nick of time, but you did not take this for granted.

Life was not like in the story books.

Sometimes one did not show up in the nick of time.

.x.

Some nights before, some comedy show had come on and in a struck of brilliance your brother had suggested pizza. You had gathered up on the living room floor with blankets and soda and chips and turned the lights off as he paid the delivery boy. You stuffed yourself silly and woke up briefly as he carried you to your bed and tucked the blankets in close to you. The dreams you had that night were pleasant and harmless, morning was hours away and for once it felt like that was the case. When you woke, your brother was in the process of cooking breakfast and he smiled when he saw you yawning in the doorway. A long shower and you were pulling your uniform on, leaning your bag up against the couch and joining him for a plate.

You both left at the same time, and as you walked, he told you about his plans for the day. He was to be paid, and he figured some time out having fun wouldn’t hurt the budget too bad. Some new movie had come out and he figured you’d like it, and if you played your cards right you could sneak in some snacks and drinks from the convenience store.

“Theater food is overpriced,” he told you, smiling. “And they don’t have your favorite brand anyway.”

You had not been to the movies in years, and you could hardly remember how the experience had gone. Excitement rose up inside of you, burst across your face in a grin as he ruffled your hair.

The morning sun was gentle, peering from behind pale clouds and painting the town cool and soft. This moment felt so warm in your chest you felt as if nothing could steal it, it stretched out endlessly before you and you knew nothing else. This was your life now, scattered with stars just like a nighttime sky was. And at the center, your brother glowed just like the moon. Steady and reassuring and full.

To be reminded of temporary was the worst fate had done to you, and this would always be the case.

Such was life.

.x.

Your aunt greeted you at the front door with placid eyes and a deep frown. Her home had changed very little. The flower patterns on the drapes, the ticking clock on the wall, the smell of age overcoming her and the perfume she layered over it. She left the plastic crate on the coffee table and made her way into the kitchen to brew some tea. She didn't ask you what happened; no doubt the reason you were sent here was by your brother’s doing.

“They gave me his photo,” she said as she poured you a cup to drink. “I figure you’d put better use to it.”

You spent the night and it was only the smell of clean linens that pulled you to sleep. Again, you were awoken by the smell of breakfast and she was sitting with a small stack of newspapers and magazines.

“The worst thing I can do to you is take away what you already have. But you can’t go back to that apartment. It will only make things worse.” She folded back the newspaper and leaned into her seat. “So we’ll make a deal. You’ll go back to your school and move on with your life. And I’ll help you get by.”

You didn't ask her to soften her tone, or to take pity on you in this moment. Your shoulders sagged at the weight of what happened, body curling in on itself at the gaping hole in your chest. Your nails dug into your palms and you found it hard to breathe.

But you were mildly grateful, she was not looking at you like a broken thing. You were the same little girl that came with too many ghosts, with violets blooming under the clothes, with eyes that looked just like and yet nothing at all like her brother’s.

“You’ll make it through this,” she said, and you had to believe her.

.x.

Tatsuki treated you different now. Not like you’re fragile, but like more things could sink their fingers into you, and this was not far from the truth. She didn't promise to fix you, or to take the pain away, and this was how you knew she had grown.

Impossible was now a word you could both understand.

The new apartment was only a little bigger than the last, and you have your own room, your own bathroom, your own kitchen and living room and windows and sinks. It was a safer area than the last and both your neighbors were small families. You took your time saving money at the end of each month, whatever your aunt spared you. Lasting foodstuffs, simpler furniture, small knickknacks, clothes that fit your ever growing body, and the candles you lit before your brother’s picture frame.

You spent hours after school praying and hours after that apologizing. You told him about your day, about your new friends, how different high school was. You talked until there was nothing left to say, until there was nothing more than the heartbeat in your ears and the blurry smile he was making at you.

To sleep now was to stifle each lingering thought left over, what you had remembered to tell him for the next day and what he’d never hear no matter how hard you tried. You allowed them to consume you in the darkness of your room and to wither away in the morning light.

Tatsuki treated you different now. She showed up at your door with a bag of food and a small smile and sometimes didn't leave until it was pitch black and dangerous outside.

“Nothing can hurt me as much as I can hurt it,” she said, when you voiced your concern.

You wished you could keep this mindset, too.

.x.

At first, he was a means of distraction. Your brother had taught you when you were a child to look at something standing still to keep from falling over, and the boy with the strange colored hair became just that.

Everything was spinning all around you, always, and he was still. The only semblance of normalcy you could grasp onto -- after all, how could you quell these sorts of feelings? How could you stop yourself from having crushes? This was how you remembered you were still human, still just a girl in the grand scheme of things.

You had little contact at the beginning. You hardly recalled him as the one who’d answered the door to your desperate calls, who had relieved you of the crushing weight of the whole world and had watched you with steady, knowing eyes as you received the news.

There were no good rumors about this battered boy. Every bandage came with a story. Every shifting glance a whispered warning. You half believed them at the beginning. The bruised knuckles, the sleepless shadows under his eyes, the way he snarled at the boys who refused to leave him be. It struck an old, familiar fear in you and you didn't ask any questions, at first.

But one day you bumped into him in the hallway and he was all soothing tones, all worried glances down your frame, all sheepish apologies stumbling out of him.

One day you caught him pulling down a book from the top shelf for someone else. One day you found him guiding a spider onto a window ledge, feeding some hungry squirrel his scraps, picking up the fallen, scattered pages for some girl. One day, some days, he was unspeakably, unknowably kind. He treated these acts of kindness as if there were nothing at all. Someone rushed out a thank you and he shrugged.

He always shrugged. As if they meant absolutely nothing at all.

But to you, to someone fractured like you, they were everything in the world.

.x.

“Of all people?” Tatsuki was incredulous, her nose wrinkling as if the very thought filled her with disgust. “Him?”

You toiled with shame, and not because of her reaction. In another life, you would have really liked to simply call him a friend. But these feelings complicated everything. The simplest interactions with him had you reeling, trying not to stumble over yourself. As if to be touched by him, however innocently, however briefly, was to be touched by an angel. It made you wither inside, disappointed with yourself for warping his intentions in that way. But how to help it?

How to make the heart turn the other cheek?

“Well, I guess you could do worse,” she muttered at last, arms folded. “He's not...awful.”

“No?” you asked, as if you needed the assurance. You knew he wasn't awful. He was wonderful, really.

“Never heard a single disrespectful thing leave that boy's mouth, about women.” She tilted her head to one side, then rushed to say, “Oh, he's disrespectful, alright. But only if you have it coming. He'd never treat you like a piece of meat – is what I'm getting at. And he has two little sisters, so you know he'll be protective.”

You smiled. “Your blessing, Tatsuki?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You could do worse. You could also do better, though.”

.x.

Either way, Tatsuki was the bridge that connected you to him. Always facilitating interactions, and shamelessly, covertly, interjecting little hints into your conversations regardless of how panicked you looked. But Ichigo was either obstinate or deaf, for all the good it did.

“Still single?” Tatsuki asked, jabbing her fingers into Ichigo's ribs in such a familiar way it unfortunately made your chest tighten at the sight.

“Stop that,” he snapped at her, pushing her hand away. “Yeah, still single. Same as I was last week and the week before. Quit asking, you freak.”

Even if you no longer saw him as a distraction, something about this fixation managed to pull you from the depths of your grief. You still curled in on yourself when you were alone, still felt as if longing were attempting to claw its way out from your throat in the middle of the night, remembering, remembering – trying not to remember – but it was tempered now with these newest memories.

Ichigo laughing at a misplaced joke of yours, the sound ringing in your ears hours after the fact. Ichigo sparing a quick smile in passing. Ichigo offering to walk you home when he ran into you after school, or handing you the extra soda he'd purchased from the vending machine wordlessly. His tiny acts of kindness he never brought attention to. The one person in the group noticing you didn't bring lunch to school again.

They filled in the empty spaces within you. When you told Sora about your day, these moments poured out of you like water from an open faucet. One day, you found yourself laughing as you recalled Ichigo's grumpy face as his friends dog-piled onto him about nothing, and you caught yourself. The laughter dying in your chest, your eyes wide as you realized that you didn't feel lonely anymore.

That maybe you hadn't in a while now.

You felt tears spilling hot down your cheeks and for once, it was from relief.

.x.

#orihime inoue #orihime kurosaki #my fanfic #myfanfic #could probably do more with this but it's been in my drafts for years...

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punkeropercyjackson · 6 months

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Danny Fenton was such a weak ass protagonist,he was all quips and 'boys will be boys' with the occasional drama llama that happened like twice a season for 8 minutes meanwhile:

Percy Jackson was an autistic kid who felt worthless at 12 already and became suicidal at 16 but was also a bully beater and took direct action against the gods and did activism in the greco-roman myths world by helping out the less privileged sectors of it and is STILL an anarchist in current canon like in the 1st book

Zak Saturday was a black softboy on a show about cryptids and his love interest was a muslim girl that was potrayed as just minor puppy love instead of cosmic soulmates

Kim Possible was a perfect prep but also a girls girl instead of a pick me and a legit superhero even with all the silliness in her plots

Juniper Lee was a brownskin half chinese girl who was as cool and dorky as white male protagonists with her usual character beats do instead of a stereotype

Virgil Hawkins was deadass the FIRST EVER BLACK SUPERHERO CARTOON PROTAGONIST and such a sweet gentle boy but still had major attitude and they didn't soften up african-american experiences at all

Alex from Totally Spies was the baby of her same age team instead of the mom and wasn't masculanized at all and had just as much depth as the other girls

Ichigo Kurosaki was a goth punk traumatized teenage boy of color who actually acted like one instead of just an edgy douchebag and was obsessed with Orihime for being a pastel autistic kindhearted weirdgirl and treated her like the princess she is 24/7 and said fuck the Soul Society's cop ass over and over again and STUCK BY IT

Aang was a tibetan who's show adressed the cleansing the irl ones go through in it's TITLE ALONE and he was potrayed as a ray of hope for his optimism and gender noncormity instead of ridiculed for them and wasn't a fence sitter like wack ass westernizers in the fandom think he is because literally the only reason he didn't Ozai is that homeboy was not only a buddhist but THE LAST SURVIVING IN-UNIVERSE ONE

And you expect to me to care about Danny's boring deadass.Hell Jake Long is just him but not white and with real character development and lore and that's why i'll never fw Danny,boys of color and girls and especially girls of color and actual outcasts did what he did but infinity times better and i don't celebrate his mediocrity because they gave me standards.Danny Phantom was never a good show,he was just 14 and you haven't shut the fuck up since

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thisisatesttai · 9 months

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IchiRuki is not "delusional," and saying that it is means you have no media literacy

IHs seem to think that all it takes to interpret Ichigo, Rukia, and Orihime's feelings is to read the epilogue. To a literary critic, that is absurd. Characters explain how they feel over and over again across a piece of media. An ending may give us context that alters the earlier scenes, but this is always in very specific ways. With Bleach, nothing about the epilogue indicates that Ichigo and Rukia are not supposed to be read as at least potentially romantic.

For posterity's sake, I should point out that I've only seen the first few arcs of the anime, so most of what I say below is based on the manga. That said, the anime is part of the story as much as the manga is, so just because something happened in the manga and not the anime, or vice versa, doesn't make it "truer" to the text, just true to different texts.

Let's start with the fact that the story repeatedly suggests that Ichigo and Rukia have a romantic vibe to them. The rumors at school make this explicit, but just from the setup of two classmates who clearly have a secret that are constantly sneaking off, especially when you add in that they go home together and sleep in the same room. I know a lot of people want IchiRuki to be the Platonic Boy/Girl Friends (TM) but honey, they just ain't them. You're thinking of Naruto and Sakura. Claims that they have a sibling vibe are utterly baseless, especially in Bleach, where sibling relationships are a very explicit theme. Not every non-romantic couple that's nominally the same age (don't get me started on the "she's 150" arguments; go prosecute ACTUAL 150-year-olds dating 15-year-olds and leave me alone) is automatically a sibling vibe. The most I could say is that they do bicker a lot, but we all know that's just as comparable to a married couple. Saying Rukia is a mentor to Ichigo admittedly has a little more basis, especially when Bleach doesn't have a designated mentor figure. I still think Rukia's role in teaching Ichigo about the Soul Society is more of a guide archetype, though; think less Genkai, more Botan.

But setting aside the setup, the Soul Society Arc, or Rescue Rukia arc, is loaded with romantic themes and imagery. Don't get me wrong; nothing says that Kubo couldn't have introduced these as a fake-out to the audience, with the intention of subverting their expectations. I don't personally think there's anything that really suggests that, at least not so far as the romantic reading of the Soul Society arc itself being entirely off-base. The whole arc kicks off because Rukia is asked by Orihime and her friends if she "like-likes" Ichigo. She says she only likes him as a friend, but all of the narrative cues suggest that she's being dishonest, from the narration to the fact that she was so bothered by the question that she chooses now to go to the Soul Society and face her punishment. The suggestion at this point seems to be that Rukia having any type of affection for Ichigo, be it friendship or romantic, is inappropriate or even impossible for a shinigami. Ichigo's feelings are treated similarly, as he never gives a straight answer when he's asked why he wants to save Rukia, but several characters suggest that it's because he's in love with her. This doesn't mean he is, but the narrative does not deny that that is a possible reasoning. We're not even really told what his answer is; the scene where he thinks, "That's why I fought so hard to save you" seems to be suggesting that he wanted her to be able to decide whether she would live in the World of the Living or the Soul Society -- or else it's saying he didn't want the last time he saw her to be her telling him she would never forgive him, or it's saying that he wanted to see her smile again. Like I said, we're not given an explicit answer to this question.

The rest of the manga is basically about Ichigo adjusting to life without Rukia. I think it's fair to say that even if you read Soul Society romantically, from the Arrancar Invasion Arc on, Rukia is no longer written as Ichigo's love interest. This doesn't invalidate anything suggested in the previous arcs, though. If anything, I would argue that Ichigo's feelings become pretty explicit by the time we get to Hueco Mundo. The dramatic reveal of Rukia coming to visit, and the fact that she's the only person capable of breaking him out of his funk, both have a romantic reading to them. When the team arrives in Hueco Mundo, Ichigo is shown to be overly concerned with Rukia's safety, explicitly singling her out aside from Renji, Uryu, and Chad. (I guess that could just be misogyny, though.) Even Ichigo's obsession with getting a rematch with Grimmjow could be traced to him nearly one-shotting Rukia during their fight in Karakura. I'm not saying any of these are exclusive interpretations, just showing how it's regularly reinforced that Ichigo feels differently about Rukia than any of his other companions, even to the point of letting it cloud his judgment.

I don't think I need to say anything about Ichigo and Rukia's goodbye before the timeskip. The way the scene is drawn, and written, and framed by the narrative, is very reminiscent of romance scenes, to the point that if it was meant to be read as exclusively platonic, it comes off as a very bad satire. And jumping to the anime real quick, I know episode 342 is anime-only, but by no means do I think that invalidates everything it says about Ichigo and Rukia's feelings for each other. That episode oozes with ship-bait, to the point of turning the subtext of their relationship into text. And if you think this is something that the anime studio injected into the narrative -- well, first of all, then we'd also have to parse out everything that the Shonen Jump editors injected into the manga -- but Kubo himself has said that he thought the episode was a welcome addition. So, if your'e someone who thinks the author's vision is the final say on the manga, there you have it; Kubo basically canonized ep. 342.

With all that in mind, I think that, at the very least, Bleach's narrative suggests that Ichigo and Rukia are coulda-beens. Maybe Ichigo was more invested than Rukia was, maybe Rukia deemed it inappropriate due to them being from different worlds, but in the language of manga and storytelling in general, the idea that they might have feelings for each other isn't some fan's "delusion"; it is actually part of the text. Whether or not they actually felt something for each other is for them and them alone to know, but the story tells us that these are two people who met, came to care very deeply for each other, and then drifted apart without ever taking the plunge.

The question that this leaves us with is, where does that leave Orihime?

If there's one character whose feelings are never up for debate, it's Orihime. We know from practically her first scene that she has a crush on Ichigo. Now, at first that's never taken seriously. It's mostly just a setup for the running gag of her bonkers imagination. Over time, though, we get a little bit more insight into Orihime's feelings, and she starts to get taken more seriously as a character. There's a version of Bleach where, as Orihime steps up to be by Ichigo's side in the latter arcs, he moves on from his feelings for Rukia and the two develop as a couple. If that were the case, even if IchiHime doesn't appeal to me, personally, I would still accept it. It would actually be a refreshingly mature take on teenage romance. Unfortunately, that version is not in the text.

For that reading of Bleach to work, we would need to see their love for each other build to a place where both characters bring out the best in each other, at least comparably to Ichigo and Rukia. Unfortunately, Ichigo and Orihime don't seem to bring out the best in each other. Ichigo brings out all of Orihime's insecurities. During the lead-up to the Arrancar arc, Orihime starts to compare herself to Rukia. (There's literally a panel sequence that says, without a single word "find you someone who looks at you the way Ichigo looks at Rukia", to anyone who's still unconvinced that there's a romantic reading to those two.) And as the entirety of the Hueco Mundo hammers home, Orihime is personally ill-equipped to be Rukia. Both Rangiku and Rukia herself have speeches where they tell Orihime that she needs to stop trying to live up to what she thinks Ichigo wants and just be herself, but she sticks to the mantra that she wants to "fight by Ichigo's side" -- you know, like Rukia does. Urahara even tells her outright that she needs to stop trying to put herself on the battlefield. It's not particularly nice of him to squash her dreams like that, but it's not as though she doesn't get an out; Hachi is already there, trying to teach Orihime to be a healer, something she has a natural talent for.

Instead of reframing her wishes with the advice of her friends, Orihime makes the worst decision of her life and goes to Hueco Mundo with Ulquiorra. Now, obviously this is coerced by the Espada and not her actual response to the situation, but that doesn't mean they're not framed as consequential to each other, narratively. Orihime is told she has a flaw that she needs to change, but before she's able to do so, she must go through hardships so she can let go of the façade that she's using to cover up her flaw. Well, she goes through hardships alright. She's imprisoned, assaulted, and threatened with death. Orihime is confronted both with her weaknesses, and with her strengths, as she is eventually able to appeal to Ulquiorra's humanity through her willingness to see the goodness in people, even those who are actively abusing her. You would think this would lead to a change in Orihime that goes back and answers the underlying question, but it doesn't. By the end of the manga, she is still fantasizing about being a Battle Couple alongside Ichigo, and she's still not good at it. I don't know how many times I've had to say this, but Orihime and Ichigo losing their fight to Yhwach is not a triumphant moment. The fact that it's the result of Orihime achieving her series-long dream is more of an indictment against their relationship than anything else I could say.

To adopt the narrative that Ichigo got over Rukia to be with Orihime, we would also need to see him come to appreciate Orihime in her own right, something that he is...hopelessly uninterested in. No, we can't just take for granted that he's a dopey shonen hero and "that's just his character"; if he's supposed to be . We also absolutely cannot take for granted that this happens offscreen; that can be a headcanon that you, as the audience, choose to adopt, but it's not suggested by anything other than the assumption that the ending is supposed to be, and can only be, saccharinely happy. There's nothing to suggest that Ichigo changes the way he thinks about Orihime in the text, and we only ever see him thinking about her is when reacting to her in scenes, and just generally not wanting her to die. The closest we get to him expressing a romantic interest in Orihime is the scene where he asks her to "wait for him" -- at Rukia's wedding, no less. I shouldn't have to spell out how having this happen on the very day, at the very moment, that Rukia is considered "off-limits" to conventional societal standards undercuts the idea that Ichigo is not taking Orihime as a consolation prize. Which, don't get me wrong, SUCKS. But it is implicit in the framing, and can't be ignored.

And that's without getting into Rukia's relationship with Renji. I think in this case, we can very obviously see that Kubo tried to write a romance between them, but he did so in such a half-assed way that I find it very hard to take seriously. Yes, Ichigo throwing Rukia to Renji is obviously meant to tell us that Renji is her love interest from that point in the story, but that doesn't mean it works. First of all, we can't pretend Renji wasn't awful to Rukia for a majority of the Soul Society arc. Sure, this is him pre-character development, but it's a huge leap to go from "I'm conflicted over whether I should tell off my boss for killing you" to a canon couple. But even with Renji beating up Rukia and telling her he wished she was dead, you can still get to the point where they repair their relationship -- it just takes a lot of work that Bleach simply doesn't do. We need more than Renji promising to turn things around, we need to see him do things that make up for that. To be fair, though, Kubo spends very little time showing us what they're like when one of them isn't on death row. At most, they seem to train together a lot. Like, you want platonic boy/girl besties? THESE are platonic boy/girl besties. Actually, they're the ones with the sibling dynamic, given that they literally grew up calling each other family.

So where does that leave us? Some people seem to assume that despite Kubo fumbling the ball, the canon couples were meant to be, and that they somehow found happiness despite all the evidence to the contrary. Again, you can hold that headcanon for yourself if it makes you happy. However, if we're going strictly based off the text, the answer seems to be that Bleach doesn't have a happy ending. The characters whose endings are not related to getting married off all end up doing the one thing they didn't want to do -- Chad ends up using his fists for personal gain as a boxer, Uryu ends up alone, etc. -- and the ones who DO get what they want are the ones whose dreams are framed as being misguided, in Orihime's case, or unearned, in Renji's case. I'm not saying you have to ship IchiRuki, of course. I can't tell you how to read the series. At the end of the day, Bleach is to you what it is to you. But saying that reading IchiRuki as romantic is "delusional" is more than just false, it diminishes media literacy for all of us.

#bleach #rant #shipping #ichiruki #ichihime #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #orihime inoue #renji abarai #we do knot always love you #i mean look at that title #that's supposed to be the big renruki book #why is it based around a double entendre that's basically #we always love you -- NOT!

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