#uhweek2018

this was my first piece i contributed for the zine,it is also my personal favorite :3

It’s Ulquihime Week, ladies and gents. Day 1: Heart.

~*~

Ulquiorra stared at the heart-shaped chocolate disc in his hand. It spanned the length between his fingertips and wrist, and had been decorated with little green bats made of frosting. 

His gaze slid from the heart to the woman. She appeared to have put extra effort into dressing herself that day. Hair curled at the ends, glossy lips, perfume, nails painted pink. He knew from past experience that she only did this on special occasions. Was this a special occasion? She’d given him a gift, after all...

“What is the meaning of this?” he asked. “My birthday is in December, is it not?”

Orihime flinched, then laughed and fidgeted with her purse strap. “I know that, silly! Today is, uh... it’s Valentine’s Day!”

Ulquiorra looked back at the chocolate heart.

“Valentine’s Day is a holiday where girls give chocolates to people they love. A-And I mean that in a general sense, not romantic! Though it’s really a romantic holiday, but not everyone is in a relationship, so it’s more of an appreciation type of thing, so what I’m trying to say is that I really appreciate you! As a friend. Person. Hollow. Business partner?”

Ulquiorra considered this. It did not sound like the type of holiday to dress up for, but what did he know about human customs? “So you have given one of these to Kurosaki Ichigo?” he asked.

“Well, yes,” Orihime said, then quickly added, “but his was smaller! Much smaller.”

Ulquiorra’s urge to destroy the chocolate heart faded. “I see.” He broke off a piece of it and popped it into his mouth. Disgusting sweetness flooded his mouth. 

Orihime lifted a hand to stop him. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to. I know you don’t like chocolate, but I still wanted to get you something...”

“I will eat it,” Ulquiorra said. 

I did this when I heard when UlquiHime week is. More art to come, maybe?

@ulquihimeweek  Day 6: Fairytale

Here we go, my favorite theme of Ulquihime week has finally arrived! To be honest when the prompts were announced this was the one I was most excited for, I even want to turn it into a full long fic once I finish the Roads trilogy. 😅 Yeah I'll stop gushing now.

The fairytale I chose was the Tale of Princess Kaguya. In this AU Orihime is the Moon princess and Ulquiorra the emperor of Japan. Unlike in the original tale, the two do have feelings for one another. I hope you guys like.

@ulquihimeweek

Ulquihime Week: Prompt 6 - Fairy Tale

The Moon Princess

A soft breeze came from the window, the cicadas sang loudly and the moon was full. 'Perfect. Nothing less than perfection will suffice.'

Emperor Ulquiorra knew he was nearing his final moments. He had come to terms with that reality, in fact he was looking forward to it. To see her again.

Back in the days of his youth he'd met a woman who had remained on his mind since, princess Orihime, and he hoped that now death would allow them to reunite.

No one knew how this mysterious lady came into being, and attributed he birth to the supernatural. He's heard the rumors of a beautiful young maiden with fire red hair and a bewitching smile. His curiousity got the better of him, leading to an invitation to the palace.

The rumors were wrong. She was far more beautiful than anyone had dared described, still it wasn't her beauty what captured his heart but rather her loving personality.

Orihime had rejected his marriage proposal, still, they remained the best of friends. Over the years he wondered why she did it, as the lovely woman did not have any lovers or a husband, he concluded that perhaps she simply didn't care for matters of romance.

Sadly he was wrong, Orihime tearfully confessed that she indeed shared his feelings of love, but they couldn't be together. Her place of origin was not her family's village, but rather the Moon. In time she would have to return to her home, and when she did they would not meet again. It all sounded surreal, he didn't want to believe it, so he vowed to keep her with him.

The finest room in the palace was decorated solely for her, she had access to every luxury the empire could possess, and he made sure to let her know how much he loved her every day.

It wasn't enough. Ulquiorra was going to propose again, but Orihime was nowhere to be found. All that she left behind was a potion with a riddle.

'You must chose one to win and one to lose. Your choices are power and our truth.'

The potion was examined by his alchemists and determined to be an elixir for immortality. Orihime had given him something that would allow him to live forever as the ruler of the most powerful empire the world had know.

But he did not except it.

An eternal life wouldn't be worth living, so as long as she was not in it. He had the potion taken to the tallest mountain, and burried, so it would not fall into the hands of wicked men.

Ulquiorra did not take any wives or concubines, and instead passed the succession line to the second branch of the family. The scorn, or whispers did not faze him. From that day forward he would just live as well as he could until it was time to meet her again.

The breeze was chilling him now, the room grew darker, his heartbeat began slowing drowning our the cicadas last song.

Finally he slept.

Upon waking he found himself in Orihime's old room, only this one was not sorrouded by his palace walls. The atmosphere was ethereal, the walls were made of white glass and looking out the window was a figure he could recognize anywhere.

"I had no doubt, you would chose me." She said. "My father wanted you to prove that your love was true, that you would refuse the chance to rule the world for my sake. At last, we can finally be together."

Orihime turned around, her face was even more beautiful than the last time they met. "Welcome home Ulquiorra."

She walked over to him and he inmediatly wrapped her in his arms. "I'm sorry it took so long, I have missed you my love.

"As have I."

The two locked themselves in a kiss that seemed to last an eternity. After pulling away he noticed that both of them were wearing wedding attire.

"I believe I owe you a wedding."

He smiled, cupping her cheek. "Yes, and I would have waited forever if that is what it took."

The pair walked out of the room hand in hand eager to start their new future together.

And they lived happily ever after

Ulquihime Week 2018 Day 6: Fairy tale (Thumbelina)

@ulquihimeweek

day 5: partnership

As she sat in the cushy waiting room of police chief Aizen Sousuke, Inoue Orihime could feel the jitters in her stomach congealing into one monstrous butterfly. She’d been waiting for the opportunity to confront him for months – years, if she was counting the period of time when she didn’t know what he’d done – but now that the moment had arrived that she would finally be taking action, it was getting hard to convince herself that she would live to see another day.

Of course, it was only to be expected that she would be intimidated – no one would feel totally confident striding into the most well-loved public figure in Tokyo’s office and accusing him of murder in front of all his employees, who evidently came with their own set of yakuza connections. One step into Kabukichou and she’d probably get sniped even if Aizen didn’t blow her brains out beforehand, which was unfortunate given that she worked in Shinjuku and commuted to her job by train every single day from her modest apartment in Ikebukuro, a trip that was just barely shy of going right into the neighborhood.

Still, even as her palms were sweating and she was fidgeting on the sofa, she knew that she had to do this. For Sora-nii. She owed him that, at the very least.

“Inoue-san?” a pleasant voice called from a nearby desk, making the hairs on Orihime’s neck stand on end. This was it. “Aizen-sama will see you now. You may proceed to his office.”

Orihime’s lip curled over in a disgust that surprised even her as she scooped up her purse and wiped her moist palms off on her skirt, walking through the row of neatly arranged desks to reach the imposing room at the end of the procession. Of course the worst man in Tokyo would force his employees to call him Aizen-sama. It was just like everything Orihime had researched had told her – he really was a raging narcissist on top of being a kingpin.

After what felt like years of walking, she stopped in front of the large door, eyeing the small metal sign resting on top of the doorknob. Aizen Sousuke, chief of police, it read in embossed print.

“Okay, Orihime,” she whispered to herself, pulling down her work skirt and straightening her posture. “This is it.” Grimacing, she raised her hand, and knocked twice, the sound loud in the quiet station.

A few seconds later, the door unlocked with a satisfying click, swinging open to reveal the man Orihime hated more than anyone else in the whole world. Aizen Sousuke looked like he did in all the interviews and TV specials that aired on Saturday nights. His brown hair was perfectly coiffed and his skin was pleasantly tanned, despite it being a rather chilly September. He wore nothing more expensive than the outfit of an average salaryman, but it was completely unwrinkled, ironed out to perfection like the rest of him. To top it all off, a pair of glasses rested on the bridge of his nose, making him seem like ever the unassuming, honest worker. Not like someone who would murder the last close family member of a highschool girl, but appearances could obviously be deceiving.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” said Aizen, gesturing behind him for her to come in. “Here, here, take a seat. Would you like some tea? Hinamori-san would gladly pour you some.”

“No, thank you,” said Orihime, sitting down on the chair nearest to the door just in case she needed to pull off a daring escape. The room was more ornate than she’d anticipated, decorated with several portraits and a really expensive looking rug, though it made sense given his personality. Simple on the outside and decked out on the inside was exactly Aizen’s style.

“Fair enough,” he said, winking in a way that was clearly supposed to be charming in Orihime’s direction. He ambled over to his desk, plopping down in his large seat before turning back to her. “I was quite surprised when you contacted me, Inoue-chan. After all that nasty business with your brother a few years ago, I would’ve thought you would be reluctant to speak with me. You were for good reason extremely upset at the time, but I can’t express how happy I am that we’ve reconciled. Oh,” he said with delight, “and you’re still wearing your brother’s hairpins! How lovely to pay such a nice tribute to him. He would be very proud, I’m sure.”

Orihime suppressed the urge to shudder. There was something so slimy about Aizen despite his unassuming facade – the informal way he addressed her, perhaps, or the calculation behind his words. She just knew he was analyzing her for weaknesses behind his pleasant mask, like a fox sizing up a helpless rabbit. “Yes,” she said finally, managing a weak smile. “I was… wrong, to accuse you. I know that now. But,” here it was, the moment of truth, “the driver of the car – Detective Luisenbaum, I think his name was – died in a car crash too, the same year as Sora-nii. That’s pretty strange, isn’t it, Aizen-san?”

Aizen laughed, and joked, “I suppose that is out of the ordinary. Perhaps we should have a mandatory driving test before we hire people onto the force, eh?”

Orihime’s nails dug a little further into her palm. Though she wasn’t much prone to violence, she wanted to slap the living daylights out of him. What a sick, disgusting man – even if he weren’t selling the Tokyo police out to the yakuza, his callousness in the face of the deaths of his employees was extremely disturbing. “Maybe,” she said, struggling to maintain a level tone. “But the force should also probably invest in better venues, too. I’m not really sure why Sora-nii had to go all the way to Yokohama to pay my father’s bail. He was being held at the Shinjuku Police Station, right? Did they relocate him?”

Aizen’s rakish smile dropped off his face. “Oh, Inoue-chan,” he sighed, massaging his temples seemingly in frustration. “I thought you knew better than that. I don’t mean to rehash this discussion, but exactly what are you implying here?”

Orihime gulped in fear, but jutted her chin out defiantly nonetheless, lacing her fingers together and leaning forwards to say, “Aizen-san, I’m certain that I wasn’t wrong to accuse you of killing my brother ten years ago. And if what I know is right, then you’ve murdered a lot of other people to get where you are today. I might’ve been a child back then, but I had more integrity when I was only twelve years old than you do now. I’m ashamed that someone like you has so much power in our justice system.”

The police chief dipped his head at her, then shrugged. “Alright, Inoue-chan, I’ll play your little game. Let’s say for the sake of this hypothetical situation that I did kill your brother and countless other people. Let’s even say I enjoyed doing it. What would you do to stop me? Would you expose my crimes to a reporter and shock the Japanese people? Don’t think I haven’t noticed the recording device in your pocket. It’s a shame you’re so green; if I really were a criminal of the sort that you allege I am, you could’ve really done a number on me with that one.”

Orihime’s fingers were trembling as they closed around the tape recorder in her blazer pocket, fingering the off switch. It would do her no good now – there was no doubt in her mind that Aizen was about to make her disappear.

He chuckled at her, and shook his head. “Let’s not get to deep into theoreticals, though.” He checked his inexpensive watch and faked a shocked gasp at the time, tutting softly to himself. “Well, I believe our little rendezvous has extended past the allotted time. Let’s wrap this up quickly then. It would be a terrible shame if your brother’s widow and little Mayu-chan found out about his gambling problem, hmm? And since apparently we’re the type to throw around baseless accusations, a horrible rumor about Sora’s indiscretions with women of the night could reach their innocent ears, too. Even worse, Mayu-chan could lose her highschool scholarship! Now that really would be horrible. I heard they were tight on money these days.”

Hot tears welled in Orihime’s eyes, and she averted her gaze to the ugly carpet, blinking furiously to avoid crying in front of Aizen. She couldn’t believe how unrelentingly sociopathic he was. He hadn’t changed at all since he knocked on her door that one fateful day ten years ago and delivered to her the news that would change her life forever.

“But none of those things have to happen if you try to make up for insulting me so badly, Inoue-chan,” said Aizen consolingly. “You interest me. You’re an office secretary at S. corp, that new pharmaceutical company that’s been gaining so much stock recently. As a police chief, it’s my duty to watch over my constituents, and I don’t know how much I trust the CEO to keep the needs of the people in mind. Urahara… Kensuke, was it? Right?” he tilted his head in contemplation before snapping his fingers in a moment of realization. “Oh, no, of course not. Urahara Kisuke, that’s what it is. Well, either way, I’m going to need you to gather me information on him. I’ll give you small tasks, don’t worry, and you’ll be receiving specific instructions from me at various dates. Think of it as a public service!”

Despite herself, tears dripped down Orihime’s cheeks, leaving wet splotches on the blurred ground beneath her feet. Aizen had to have realized that serving as his dog was the most humiliating thing he could subject her to. She would prefer even death to actively encouraging his interests.

“Oh, cheer up,” crooned Aizen. “Here, I’ll even assign you a helper! He’ll have to look after you at home to make sure you don’t run, of course, but I promise he’s a personable man.” He rose to his feet, and pulled open the door, peering out into the office beyond. “Ulquiorra!” he called out, cupping his hands around his mouth. “I’ve got an assignment for you!”

Orihime wiped off her face and tried to reign in her trembling lower lip as she heard a new set of footsteps approaching in an attempt to calm herself down, but even she realized that it came off as hollow. Anyone who looked at her would immediately realize that she’d been crying, especially someone perceptive enough to be a member of Aizen’s staff.

“Which of my services do you require, Aizen-sama?” said a deep voice just beyond the office door. There was something very unnerving about his voice, something unnatural. Though she hadn’t been expecting anyone with the emotional spectrum of Chizuru to be at Aizen’s beck and call, Orihime couldn’t detect even a single ounce of feeling in anything the person she assumed was Ulquiorra had said.

“Probably all of them and then some,” replied Aizen. “Come in, come in – we have a guest!”

He pushed open the door and sauntered back to where Orihime sat, followed by an extremely pale man with the strangest facial features she’d ever encountered. His eyes were a shade of green that by all means should have been vibrant, but were instead afflicted with a peculiar hollowness, the exact same kind that she had sensed in his voice earlier. His lips were thin and pressed together, so dark they were nearly black, and his black hair fell in a quasi-mullet around his thin shoulders.

“Inoue-chan,” said Aizen, pointing a finger at the stranger, “this is one of my top employees, Detective Schiffer Ulquiorra. And Ulquiorra, this is our new business associate, Inoue Orihime. You’ll be working very closely together from now on.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” said Ulquiorra, bowing slightly before extending a hand in Orihime’s direction. “I hope that we will act well together as partners.”