#(I may come back and edit this in the future)

[imaginespazzi]

Part 11: Free Fall

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

How many nights did you wish someone would stay? (Lie awake only hoping they're okay?)

(In which an angst writer makes her comeback in more ways than one)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff if you squint?

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing (that's probably it?)

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Y'all are the sweetest people ever for being so patient with me but it's finally here! I'm hoping that I don't put y'all through this again but it is almost finals season so...fingers crossed. While you read this chapter, I'd like y'all to keep in mind how much you love me and how much y'all wanted a new chapter and of course my favorite phrase: for the plot! I tried to edit but I hate reading my own work back and so it's not as thorough as it should be and there's probably typos so lemme know. As always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely week my angels!

May 2025 

It’s her first ever WNBA game -Dallas Wings vs Washington Mystics- and the first thing Paige notices as she steps onto the court is that the two courtside seats right by the Mystics bench are empty. The sound of music streaming through the speakers clashes against the raucous crowds; the lights are dimmed and there’s a riveting thrum of energy swirling the arena in anticipation for a generational talent’s professional debut. Paige has spent the days leading up to her first game immersed in basketball. Since training camps, she hasn’t let herself think of anything except how to make sure the ball went through the hoops, how to make sure the person in front of her didn’t score, how to win. 

It’s easier that way. Because then she doesn’t have to think about how empty and cold her bed feels at night, doesn’t have to think about how much she craves to press call on a number she knows she should have blocked, doesn’t have to think about how the pieces of her shattered world are barely bound together by a tape of pretend. Paige can’t think of any of that and so she’s spent every second awake, clearing her head of all potential distractions and focusing on preparing for this moment. 

Except, the moment is here now. 

And all Paige can fixate on is the empty courtside seats. 

The memories come back to her in waves; the two of them in those seats, pressed together -as close as it could be acceptable for their façade of best friends to be- as they weaved dreams of it being their turn on the professional stage. If she listens closely, Paige swears that amidst the chaos, she can still hear the echo of a promise that had once been made casually in conversation. 

“When you play here for the first time, I’ll be right here cheering you on. Every single time.”

Another broken promise. 

The truth is that the last few weeks as much as it’s felt like Paige is walking on a carpet of roses, there have been countless sharp thorns woven through the petals. She’s tried to avoid them -focusing on what she had, instead of what she’d lost- but they’d found a way to perforate through her skin anyways. And Paige knows she’s bleeding but she can’t scream, so she swallows the pain away instead. Memories of the past are piercing her feet and it feels like she’s leaving a trail of it feels incomplete without you behind her as she navigates the journey through her present, stepping towards a future that would be nothing like the one she’d imagined when she’d been a naive girl sitting in those courtside seats. 

The courtside seats that are empty tonight. 

Really it’s exactly what she should’ve expected. And there’s something so final about this moment, like the last flicker of a candle that had burned in secret. Paige hadn’t even realized she was still holding out for something but as she drags her eyes away from the seats and towards her father and brother who are practically vibrating with pride, she can feel the tautness of the string that she’d held onto. Because she hasn't told them; hasn’t told anybody about the breakup. 

Something about vocalizing it had felt just a little too real and Paige had evaded any potential situation that would warrant her having to reveal the tirth. But it hits her now, looking at those damn empty seats that should've been -in another life would’ve been- filled by her other family, that the words she’d been too scared to say out loud -for fear of them being enshrined into reality- had already probably been spoken into existence by someone else. And it hits Paige now, that maybe she’s desperately holding onto a rope that has already been let go of. 

“You good Bueckers?” she whirls around to find Arike looking at her, eyebrows raised in concern. 

“I’m fine,” Paige lies; she’s gotten so incredibly good at that, “just thinking a lot of thoughts.”

Arike nods in understanding, “fair enough. But you got this dude,” she reaches out a hand to squeeze her rookie’s shoulder, “whatever you’re thinking, when you get on that court, none of it’s gonna matter. All that matters for 40 minutes is the game and that we come out of it with a win. You gonna help us win Paige?”

“That’s the fucking plan,” Paige smirks, earning her a matching one from Arike before the shooting guard saunters onto the court, ready for tip-off.

All that matters is the game. 

Paige sucks in a deep breath, letting herself look over at the courtside seats one more time. This is her reality now. There’s no point in waiting for a regretful phone call or a surprise midnight knock on her door because it’s not going to happen. She feels a sense of hollowed acceptance as she finally turns away from the seats, plastering on a confident smile as she takes her place in the Dallas Wings starting five. And Paige is faced with the same truth that she’d learned at a far too young age; that people would leave her but the game never would. 

***

Dallas wins the game by 17 points. Paige’s statline is 21 points, 6 rebounds and 8 assists with 2 steals and a block. It’s a respectable statement from the rookie and her teammates are overjoyed. She’s surrounded by them as they celebrate winning their first game of the season and there’s a sense of hopeful excitement about how the rest of the season could go. Her eyes go over the top of them to find the cute Dallas local reporter that Paige had befriended shooting her a congratulatory wink and she blushes a little bit, looking away bashfully. In the distance, Paige can make out a small crowd of people decked in custom Wings #5 jersey, whistling in excitement. Despite the home fans, their celebration still echoes around the stadium and the loudest cheer comes from her brother who stands next to her father, both of them beaming with pride. And It’s almost enough to prevent her eyes from wandering back to the empty courtside seats. Almost. 

***

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. With the quick transition from the college season into the draft, Paige hadn’t had found time to go home inbetween. And so when the Wings had been making hotel arrangements for DC, she’d opted to stay with her dad and Drew in Maryland instead. But as she stands in the doorway to her bedroom, staring at a wall filled with pictures that are an ode to the past - collages that are practically a shrine to her broken relationship- Paige finds herself longing for the cold, unfeeling exterior of a foreign hotel room. 

Paige’s life can be split into two parts. There’s the Before Azzi and then there’s the With Azzi. And the truth is that there isn’t much from the Before Azzi left in Paige’s life. Every inch of her current life has been touched by the brunette, illuminated by her presence and now, it’s tainted by her absence. Especially in Maryland. Since she’d met the Virginia native, the DMV area had always been synonymous with the Fudds for Paige and she can’t remember a time when she’d been here -when she’d been in this bedroom- and not had plans to see them- to see Azzi. 

She takes a hesitant step inside, eyes gliding over each photograph and it’s like she’s being transported through time. The memories are as vivid as ever, bursting with color as they ellipse her mind. Paige can picture every moment like she’d lived it yesterday. She can still hear their laughter echoing through the air, can feel the softness of their hands -their bodies- brushing against each other, can still taste the lingering sweetness of their lips meeting halfway as they breathed silent promises against each other’s skin. 

A silent sob wracks through Paige’s body as she brushes her fingers over the most recent image of them from December -the last photograph she’d had time to print out. It’s one that Drew had taken of them in the kitchen- Paige propped up on the counter and Azzi in between her legs, one hand on the counter with the other resting right against Paige’s heart. Neither of them had even noticed the little boy, too wrapped up in each other; they were in their own world like they often had been. Azzi’s head is thrown back in laughter -probably at some ridiculous joke her girlfriend had cracked- and Paige has that goofy - just for Azzi- grin on her face as she gazes at the brunette with nothing but adoration. 

The picture is from barely six months ago but they look so young to Paige, so innocent, so naive, so fucking happy, so completely unaware that in a couple of months, one hesitantly spoken word would dissolve that happiness into a puddle of rubble. 

No. 

She thinks that one simple word is destined to echo through her ears, like that unpleasant screech of nails scratching against a chalkboard, for as long as she still has the ability to hear. Paige hadn’t even really heard it at first; it had been said so softly, so quietly, so brokenly and she’d barely seen Azzi’s lips move. For the briefest moment she’d tricked her mind into believing it was just the sound of the wind around them. But then there it was again. 

Louder. 

Stronger. 

No.

Paige’s hands instinctively clasp around her ears, fingers tangling tightly through her blond hair, because she can still fucking hear it. Here in this bedroom, where every corner still holds a little part of Azzi -holds a little part of them- the sting of rejection is louder than it’s been since it had first hit. Because it’s not just the pictures. It’s all the little pieces of them they’d left scattered over Christmas break, thinking they’d come back to it together.

 It’s a set of Azzi’s earrings -one Paige vaguely remembers picking out for her when they’d gone shopping a couple of weeks before- placed delicately on Paige’s dresser. It’s the pink sweater -that neither of them are sure who it originally belongs to but like most of their clothes, is basically a shared item at this point- haphazardly thrown over a chair. It’s that stupid book they’d started reading together -Paige lying across her girlfriend’s lap, toying with her curls as Azzi read the story out loud- still lying on the nightstand, waiting to be finished. 

Despite being alone in her room, Paige finds herself rapidly shaking her head. Because she can’t do this. Can’t spend a night in this room that had barely ever been just hers, had always felt more like theirs. She can’t sleep on that bed, no when her last memory of it is being tangled in the sheets with Azzi on a cold wintry morning, their legs intertwined with each other as they’d giggled to themselves in between languid lazy kisses. And maybe it’s pathetic of her but she can’t find it in herself to unmake the bed, not when her last memory of the two of them in this room is her leaning against the wall, shamelessly checking out her girlfriend as Azzi neatly made the bed, chiding Paige for the nth time on the importance of tidiness. 

“When are you gonna learn how to make your bed,” Azzi had sighed. 

Grinning, Paige had wrapped her arms around her girlfriend from behind, slotting her face into the crevice of Azzi’s neck and brushing her lips against the patch of skin, “I know how to make my bed. I just never have to because I’ll always have you to do it for me.”

Except for the last few weeks, Paige has had to make her own bed and she fucking hates it. 

Breathing sharply, Paige slowly backs out of her bedroom, gently pulling the door shut. She leans her forehead against the cool mahogany frame, trying to calm herself down. There’s been a nonstop dull ache in her chest since that night but tonight feels different, like the cold hands of the past have managed to dig under her ribcage and squeeze her heart  -something sharp digging into her arteries- so hard that it hurts just to exist. Paige gives herself a couple more seconds, creating half-moons as she digs her nails into her palms, before she finally pulls away from the door, heading towards her brother’s room down the hall. 

“You know you really should start knocking before you come into my room,” Drew says with a mock annoyance that’s betrayed by his large grin, as Paige slips into his room, “I’m almost a teenager.”

Despite the heaviness that’s still lingering between her lungs, Paige suddenly finds it a lot easier to breathe. Her little brother’s bedroom is dark, save for red LED lights and dim glow of the TV. Drew is reclined on his bed, gripping a white gaming controller between his hands. 

“You’re always gonna be a baby to me Drewski,” she teases, stepping towards him to ruffle his hair, laughing when he ducks her hand and shoots her an irritated glare in response. 

“Not the hair,” he whines and then groans as his eyes flicker back to the screen, towards the game he'd been playing, “damnit Paigey you just got me killed.”

“Hey hey hey, don’t blame me for your incompetence,” Paige chides. 

Drew rolls his eyes, before reaching over to hand over the other controller, “you wanna play?”

Paige shakes her head, gently pushing his hand away, “nah I just-” she chews at her bottom lip, shuffling her feet with uncharacteristic nervousness, “I was just uh- just wondering if I could stay in here tonight? We could have a sleepover? Like old times? Just you and me.”

It’s heartwarming the way her little bother’s eyes light up -like he’s still the little boy that used to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, not almost a teenager who’ll eventually be taller than her- as he nods excitedly, scooching over to give his older sister space on his bed. Paige crawls gingerly onto the bed, hesitating for a second, before she lays her head on her brother’s lap, curling into herself. Drew is warm and inviting and familiar and for a second she almost forgets that serrated pain shooting through her nerves. But then it all comes rushing back and Paige has to swallow harshly to keep herself from giving into the fresh new set of tears that are re-emerging on her waterline. 

“Paigey,” Drew whispers softly as he runs his finger through her delicate blonde hair, clearly sensing something’s wrong, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine Drew,” she means to keep her voice strong but it comes out as broken as she feels. 

“Paigey,” the little boy’s voice is more worried now, “should I call Azzi?” 

This time the whimper escapes before Paige can stop it as she tightly closes her eyes. She knows her brother means well; know that Drew doesn’t really remember Paige without Azzi- doesn’t remember a time before his sister knew how to heal without the brunette’s touch. He’d watched Paige celebrate all her victories with Azzi and he’d seen the same hold his sister in all her tragedies, putting her back together every time she broke with promises of you’ll have always have me. From the moment Drew was old enough to understand his sister’s feelings, he was also perceptive enough to understand that Azzi was always what she needed, no matter how she was feeling. And it’s still true, Paige thinks; she wants nothing more than to say yes, wants nothing more than for Drew to call Azzi, so Paige can tell her how much she fucking misses her- how much she fucking needs her. 

Perhaps it's pride or maybe it’s fear, but Paige doesn’t say what she wants. Instead she vigorously shakes her head in her brother’s lap, “n-no it’s fine. I’m fine. It’s late and Azzi’s busy-”

“Azzi’s never too busy for you,” Drew says indignantly, “I’m gonna call her.”

“Drew stop,” Paige’s voice is much firmer this time as she wraps a strong arm around her little brother’s knee, stopping him from moving, “we’re not calling Azzi.”

She could tell him now. After all, she’s going to have to when he inevitably asks why he hasn’t seen Azzi -why he hasn’t seen the girl who’s been a part of his life for more than half of it- in so long. But even though the words sit scratchily on the tip of her tongue, she still isn’t quite ready to spit them out; isn’t quite ready to confront reality. 

“Why not,” petulance coats Drew’s tone. 

“Because I’m fine and I don’t need- I don’t want to talk to her,” Paige lies. 

The little boy scoffs, “you always want to talk to her.”

He doesn’t know the way that simple sentence turns the cracked pieces of Paige’s heart into dust as she tightens her grips on his leg, “Drew please- please just let it go.”

“Why,” Drew argues stubbornly, “why can’t we call her.”

“We just-” Paige’s voice breaks, as she scrambles to wipe her tears before they can wet her little brother’s shirt, “we just can’t okay?”

And there must be something in her voice -the anguish that no amount of trying is able to hide- that Drew pieces together to understand that this isn’t a battle he can win, no matter how much he and Paige might both want him to. The young boy slowly droops his body back to its reclining position, his fingers returning back to Paige’s hair as he begins to stroke her head again. 

“It’s gonna be okay Paigey,” he whispers with all the hopeful innocence of a blissfully naive little boy, “everything gonna be okay.”

And god does Paige want to believe him. But the courtside seats were empty tonight. And she’s in the DMV with no plans to see the Fudds- to see Azzi. And she’ll never know the ending to that stupid book on her bedside table. 

She wants to believe Drew but Paige isn’t sure how anything’s ever going to be okay again. 

***

May 2033 

It should be a joyful moment -the three most important people in her life congregating together- but instead as Paige quietly observes the scene in her living room -Drew silently seething, Azzi fidgeting nervously with her thumbs and Stephie babbling away amidst it all- she feels suffocated by this heavy gray cloud of apprehension lingering above her head. If she’s honest with herself, she’s been on edge for a couple of days now, since training camp had begun to be precise. Since she’d moved to the Bay Area, everything else in Paige’s world had been eclipsed by Azzi and Stephie. The mother-daughter duo were all-consuming and if she’s honest with herself, Paige had been more than happy to let her thoughts -and her heart- be consumed by nothing but the two of them. 

It had been so easy to forget everything else and the tentative verbal three-way deal she technically had with the Valkyries and the Liberty had pretty much ceased to exist in her thoughts. That is until Angie Davis -the lynchpin in this agreement- had been selected, just as everyone had predicted, to the Valkyries. The Stanford PG had shown up to training camp with a shy smile and an eagerness to learn that all the rest of the vets on the team had warmly embraced. But all Paige saw in the girl was the ticking time bomb of a decision she’d forgotten she’d have to make. And it isn’t just the reminder of the decision that has Paige feeling at unease; it’s why she has to make this decision in the first place, the reason behind why she’d agreed to this deal in the first play, why she’d been so adamant for Talia to make sure she didn’t get stuck here. 

Eight years ago, Azzi Fudd had broken her heart and Paige has spent every moment since, trying to collect the shattered pieces and reassemble them. 

And the last thing Paige had wanted to do was give Azzi the hammer to smash her barely fixed heart again. 

That’s what it had felt like when Talia had first brought up the Valkyries offer. It wasn’t that she and Azzi hadn’t been in each other’s orbit the last couple of years -it was impossible not to- but since the breakup, they’d never been around each other long enough, never quite been in the right situations, for that opportunity to present itself again. But Paige had known that if she came to the Valkyries, it would be an inevitability. That belief had only been strengthened the day she’d visited the Bay Area. She’d been adamant from the second she’d gotten on the flight that she couldn’t be persuaded to join Golden State, no matter how much she respected the organization and how well she’d fit into their system; no matter how much she adored the city and its love for her favorite sport.

But then she’d met a little girl who had an identical smile to the one that had held her captive since she was fifteen and barely knew what love was. And if Stephie with her doe-eyed wisdom that Paige would look great in purple wasn’t enough, then there was Azzi. Paige had expected Azzi to tell her to decline the offer. In a way that’s what she wanted; the masochistic need to feel the sting of that rejection again so she wouldn’t be tempted to burn herself in the fire again. But the brunette had done the opposite and Paige had known by just how quick her resolve had succumbed, that she’d been right to fear the inevitability. And it was that fear that had prompted the verbal agreement with the Liberty; an escape plan she’d forgotten she’d devised. 

Because escaping had been the last thing on Paige’s mind the last few weeks. 

All of Paige’s fears and apprehension had seemed to take a backseat the moment Azzi had smiled -hesitant but real- and said she was ready to try, the moment Stephie’s tiny hands had fit perfectly into her own. 

But she can feel it all coming back now, bubbling to the surface and threatening to spill over like lava, wiping out this paradise she’s been in with Stephie and Azzi. It had started with the reminder of the Liberty deal but it’s Drew’s presence -his scowl directed at Azzi that feels like one of a brother still betrayed on his sister’s behalf- that had heightened it. Her little brother’s anger, and the genuine hurt that lingers behind it, feels like a dark reminder of Paige’s own heartbreak. 

Suddenly she feels like she’s 23, playing her first WNBA game and instead of celebrating a solid debut, she’s sobbing in her little brother’s lap over the girl who had walked away. 

“Miss Buecks,” Paige looks down to find Stephie crawling into her lap, “are we ready to order the pizza now?”

The little girl’s arms wrapping around her neck eases some of Paige’s discomfort as she smiles down at Stephie. 

“I’ve been ready for ages. You were the one yapping away,” she teases. 

Stephie pouts, “I don’t yap,” she turns her body towards Azzi, “Mama I don’t yap do I?”

Azzi’s own tense body seems to relax a little as she smirks at the two of them, “you definitely yap Stephie-”

“Mama,” Stephie protests, looking betrayed. 

“But not nearly as much as your Miss Buecks yaps,” Azzi’s eyes twinkle with mirth as Paige splutters, jaw dropping open with mock offense, “between the two of you, it’s a miracle my poor ears haven’t fallen off.”

“Just for that I’m not adding veggies to the pizza,” Paige sticks her tongue out, causing Stephie to giggle and Azzi to roll her eyes at the display of immaturity. 

Paige slips out her phone, pulling up their usual pizza place on doordash and quickly plugs in her memorized orders for everyone in the room as Stephie gets herself comfortable on the blonde’s lap. The five-year old leans her head back against Paige’s chest, who instinctively wraps her free hand around Stephie’s waist, keeping her securely in place. 

“So uncle Drew,” Stephie says with a grin, slightly leaning forward as she addresses the man sitting rigidly on the edge of the sofa, “did Miss Buecks yap a lot when she was younger too.”

“Be careful how you answer that,” Paige warns with a good natured glare in her brother’s direction, trying to lighten his mood. 

It works to an extent as a small smirk slips onto the edges of Drew’s lip, “oh she was a chronic yapper.”

“What does che-ronic mean?” Stephie asks, scrunching her nose in confusion.

Drew laughs, eyes glittering with mischief, “it means she didn’t know when to shut up.”

“Drew Thomas,” Paige guffaws, “you’re supposed to be my little brother, protecting your older sister’s honor and all of that.”

“Hey,” Drew raises his hand in surrender, “my older sister taught me to never lie, especially not to children.”

“Did you really talk that much?” Stephie asks, turning to Paige with wide eyes. 

“Don’t listen to him Stephie-bean,” the blonde says, brushing her hands through Stephie’s curls, “it’s all bullsh-”

“Paige,” Azzi hisses immediately as the older woman bites her lip to stop the curse word from escaping. 

“Bullsharks,” Paige amends, “fake news. False advertising. I was a calm and quiet kid for sure.”

Drew snorts, leaning back into the sofa and Paige lets out a soft sigh of relief at seeing her brother relax. Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, feeling a sense of calmness when she sees the younger girl’s nervous fidgeting has stilled and there’s a tentative smile on her face. 

 “You weren’t calm or quiet,” he says pointedly. 

“Was too,” Paige argues stubbornly. 

“Yes you were,” Drew presses, “Stephie if you don’t believe me, ask your Mama,” he turns to Azzi, “tell her Azzi. She literally yapped your ear off into becoming your friend.”

Azzi blanches, clearly shocked at having been so cavalierly addressed, and even Paige is a little surprised by the expectant “agree with me look” that Drew is giving the brunette after having spent the last moments practically glaring at her. But really it probably shouldn’t be that surprising. Because Drew and Paige are cut from the same material and letting Azzi into the folds seems to just come naturally to both of them. And it’s so familiar to when they’d all been years and years younger -two college students and a little boy - so familiar to the countless nights spent in Minnesota and DC and Connecticut where several silly arguments like this between Paige and Drew had ultimately ended with them both turning to Azzi -the forever moderator- in hopes that she’d side with them. 

She’d always sided with Drew -much to Paige’s chagrin, though she’d been secretly enamored by the relationship between her girlfriend and her brother- and this time is no different as Azzi shakes off the shock, replacing it with a cheeky expression. 

“Didn’t shut up for 14 whole hours,” she laments, her voice filled with teasing but she smiles at the blonde as if she’s reminiscing it, reminiscing the moment that began it all for them and Paige can’t help the hopelessly sappy smile she gives her in return. 

“14 hours? You talked for 14 whole hours, Miss Buecks?” Stephie’s eyes are comically large as she echoes the number. 

“Of course not,” Paige defends, eyebrows creasing as she glares at the other two adults in the room, “this is bullying. Stephie,” she whines, nuzzling her head into the little girl’s neck, “they’re ganging up on me.”

“There there Miss Buecks,” Stephie says diligently as she pats at the older woman’s cheek. 

“We’re just telling the truth,” Drew shrugs. 

“Exactly,” Azzi nods solemnly, “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth.”

She grins, reaching her hand out for a high five and Paige watches as Drew raises his own hand, ready to reciprocate. For a second it feels like everything is coming together; like the past could just stay in the past. But then he stops midair. The easy smile fades from his face and the previous tautness comes rushing back. He pulls his hand back, turning away from Azzi, who’s face slowly falls back. The lightheartedness from mere seconds ago is replaced by the tension from before and that burden of all that’s happened between us returns as a heavy weight pressed against Paige’s heart. 

“Paigey used to yap a lot,” Drew says slowly, “like I said you couldn’t get her to shut up and then one day,” he pauses, angry eyes darting towards Azzi, “one day she just got quiet- she shut up- she stopped yapping all the time.”

“Why?” Stephie asks softly, her tone a mixture of concern and genuine curiosity. 

Paige’s arm tightens around the little girl in her lap as she shoots her brother a pleading look, “Drew-”

“Because someone-” there’s so much venom in the word that it makes Azzi visibly flinch and Paige wants to soothe away the creases forming in her forehead, “someone broke her heart. And it took years- it took years to get her back to normal, to get her yapping again. To get my sister back to who she was.”

There’s pindrop silence as Drew seethes at his own words and Azzi rapidly blinks back tears, until Stephie turns around in Paige’s lap, tiny hands cupping the blonde’s face as she tries not to let her emotions show in front of the little girl. 

“Someone broke your heart?” Stephie looks so upset by the idea that Paige wants to vehemently deny it, “how could anyone break your heart Miss Buecks?”

She means well -just a child concerned for one of her favorite people- but she has no idea of the dagger she’s just twisted in her own mother’s heart as a faint whimper escapes Azzi’s lips. Paige opens and closes her mouth, hopelessly looking at the brunette who’s digging her fist into the sofa, despair embedded all over her face. 

“Stephie-” Paige tries to say. 

“Don’t worry kid,” Drew cuts in instead, his voice steady and firm, “it happened once but I won’t-” his eyes burn with fire as he looks at Azzi, “I won’t let it happen again.”

“Stephie,” Paige says quietly after a moment, her gaze transfixed on Azzi whose doing her absolute best not to let her emotions show in front of her little girl, “sweetheart how ‘bout you show Uncle Drew around the house.”

“I don’t want to see the house,” Drew says petulantly as he stubbornly crosses his arms over his chest

“Yes. You. Do.” Paige grits out, trying not to curse when her younger brother rolls his eyes at her. 

“C’mon Uncle Drew,” Stephie says cheerfully as she slips off of Paige’s lap and reaches a hand out for the man instead, “Miss Buecks has a really cool house and maybe we can go steal some of her cool clothes.”

Drew sighs but he’s not immune to Stephie’s infectious energy. A hint of a grin sneaks through the cracks as he accepts the little girl’s offer. Stephie starts to pull him towards the staircase but the perceptive girl stops for a second in front of her mother, a cautious look on her face as Azzi musters up a grin to mollify the little girl's concern and Drew adamantly averts looking at the other woman. 

“Go on bean,” Azzi urges softly, keeping her shaky voice under control, “go show him the house.”

Stephie nods before gently pressing her lips against Azzi’s cheeks, eliciting a deep breath from her mother, before she practically drags Drew towards the staircase, already speaking a mile per minute.  

There’s a pause, filled with a combination of the quiet rumble of Stephie blabbering upstairs and Azzi’s uneven breathing. Then the tears that the brunette had been trying so hard to barricade behind her eyelids starts cascading down her cheeks and Paige almost trips on her own feet as she moves towards her. She falls to her knees in front of Azzi, gently brushing her against her cheek, before wrapping her hands around her tightly formed fists. 

“Baby don’t cry. Please I hate it when you cry,” Paige whispers softly, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s, “he’s just-”

“He’s right,” Azzi cuts her off, shaking her head. 

“Az-”

“He hates me-”

“He doesn’t-”

“He does,” Azzi presses, her tears falling faster now, “and he should. Paige I did break your heart,” they both flinch at the blunt statement, “and he doesn’t trust me because of it and he hasn’t forgiven me for it. I haven’t forgiven me for it.”

“Baby,” Paige echoes again, unsure what else to say. 

“Have you forgiven me?” 

The question lingers in the air as Azzi looks expectantly at her and Paige stumbles over her words, trying to find the right ones. She doesn’t really know how to answer the questions; hadn’t been expecting to be confronted with it tonight. Paige wants to say yes; she wants to take away Azzi’s guilt so fucking bad. These last few weeks had been so perfect, Paige had convinced herself she was over what had happened almost a decade ago. But if she’s honest with herself -if she’s honest to the memories of every night she’d spent sobbing into her pillows, missing the girl in front of her and resenting her for walking away- Paige doesn’t really know if she has forgiven Azzi. 

“Paige?” Azzi ask again, her voice breaking on the one syllable. 

Paige’s face crumbles as she looks at the girl defenselessly, “ Az, I-”

The doorbell rings at the exact moment and Stephie comes excitedly barrelling down the staircase as the two women scramble away from each other, trying to compose themselves. 

“Miss Buecks, Mama,” the younger girl hollers, “pizza’s here.”

Paige looks at Azzi who’s rushing to wipe away the remnants of her tears. She opens her mouth, desperately willing herself to find something, anything that could offer the girl in front of her some comfort; that could take their relationship away from the precipice of this cliff they’ve somehow found themselves on. But the right words don’t materialize and instead Paige closes her mouth and turns away, slowly heading towards Stephie as Azzi’s question continues to wreak havoc in her mind. 

And she wishes she could rewind the clock and freeze them where they had been just a couple of hours ago, freeze them in a moment where the past hadn’t weighed so heavily on the present. But perhaps the past had always been there and they’d simply just done a marvelous job ignoring it. Except tonight, they can’t seem to ignore it anymore. 

***

Paige thinks pizza has never tasted so terrible in her life. The mood at her basically unused dining table is numbingly sober; even Stephie has stopped her chatter, the little girl clearly picking up on the tense atmosphere around her as she quietly nibbles away at her slice of pizza. It’s in stark contrast to the innumerable dinners they’d had in the last three weeks; the three of them -Paige, Azzi and Stephie in between them- at the table or the counter or sometimes even the couch, raucous with laughter and smiles. Paige doesn’t understand how moments can shift like this; how last night could have been filled with giggles and grins and tonight is filled with nothing but a silence filled with too many unspoken words.

Her eyes flicker over to Azzi, who’s making a concerted effort to keep her own everted from both Bueckers siblings. The brunette’s question from before feels like a loud horn blaring in Paige’s ears, one that she can’t seem to find the off-switch for no matter how hard she searches for it. They’re barely a couple feet apart, sitting opposite each other with Drew next to Paige and Stephie next to Azzi, but the width of the table feels like it stretches for miles. Paige misses the warmth of Azzi’s body pressed against hers, misses the sly brush of their hands before their fingers would inevitably curl around each other’s underneath the table where Stephie couldn’t see. 

“Miss Buecks,” Paige swallows, trying to shake off the feeling of is this us crumbling again, as she diverts attention to Stephie who’s smiling at her with that cheeky grin that means she wants something. 

“What’s up Stephie-bean?” Paige asks and she’s convinced there’s magic in the little girl’s existence because despite the tightness she still feels in her chest, having Stephie close feels like a reason for her to breathe through it. 

“Can I have a soda?” Stephie asks, using the palm of her hands to frame her slightly tilted face as she juts out her bottom lip in a pleading. 

Paige grins, ready to concede as she often is with the little girl but Azzi speaks first, “no soda Stephie.”

Stephie pouts, “why not?”

“Because I said so,” Azzi says bluntly and Paige is taken back by the sharpness of it. 

“Mama please,” Stephie begs, “please, please, please.”

“No Stephie,” there’s a warning edge to Azzi’s tone but Stephie doesn’t pay much heed to it continuing to plead and the irritation on her mother’s face -clearly exacerbated by other things- gets more and more apparent. 

“Please Mama. Pizza just doesn’t go down right without soda,” the little girl argues, “can I please just have a little bit. Just a teeny tiny bit Please, please pretty please please-”

“Stephie, no” Azzi repeats, pinching the bridge of her nose as Drew and Paige exchange nervous glances. 

“Stephie, yes,” the little girl argues, stubbornly crossing her hands over her chest. 

“Ste-”

“I want soda. I want soda. Please, please, please, plea-”

“I said no Stephanie,” Azzi all but yells, startling Stephie into being quiet and making both Drew and Paige flinch. The little girl is wide-eyed for a second -not used to anything but her mother’s normally gentle way of dealing with her occasional brattiness- before her lips begin to tremble and big fat tears begin to spill down her cheeks. She scrambles out of her chair, beelining towards Paige and climbing onto her lap as she burrows her face into the blonde’s neck, wetting her shirt with tears. 

“Shhh, shhh sweetheart it’s okay,” Paige whispers to the little girl, gently rocking the two of them back and forth as she strokes her hair. 

She glances at Azzi, who’s adamantly looking, her face stone cold but regret gleaming in her eyes, “Az-”

“No,” the younger woman says immediately. 

“C’mon,” Paige says exasperatedly, “you don’t even know what I was gonna say.”

“If it’s about giving her a soda, I don’t wanna hear it,” Azzi warns, “you can’t just give into all of her demands all the time, you have to learn to say no and she needs to learn to hear it.”

“I hear you but Az it’s a Friday-”

“Paige-”

“A tiny bit of soda to start the weekend can’t hurt. In fact,” Paige smirks down at the little girl in her lap as she coaxes Stephie’s face out of her neck so she can wipe away the tears on her blotchy red face, “I think a little soda to start the weekend is probably good for you.”

She feels her heart soar when it makes Stephie giggle, letting out a couple teary hiccoughs in between as she clutches onto Paige. 

“I think so too Mama,” the little girl echoes, looking back at her mother with a timid grin. 

“Give in Azzi,” Paige matches the pleading smile on Stephie’s face as she turns her focus onto the brunette, “she deserves a little treat 

“I know what she deserves. I think I know what’s good for my daughter,” Azzi says steely and Paige feels something cold squeezing through her ribcage, “no soda Stephie. End of discussion.”

My daughter. 

The thing is Paige doesn’t even really think she has the right to be upset over Azzi’s statements. Really, it’s nothing but the truth. Stephie is Azzi’s daughter and Azzi definitely knows what’s good for her daughter. So why does it sting like this? Why does it feel like little shards of ice piercing into her heart, leaving deep gashes that have her whole body feeling like it’s freezing over? Paige knows why, knows that these past weeks had been enough to trick her mind into believing the mirage that Stephie was hers. But now Azzi’s flicked her fingers against it causing the whole fantasy to come crashing down and Paige feels herself slowly getting buried under the rubble of it. 

“Right," she says softly, trying to keep her voice steady, “she’s your daughter and you know best,” she ignores the tinge of guilt in Azzi’s eyes as she turns to Stephie who looks like she’s ready to protest again, “you heard your Mama Stephie. No soda tonight.”

“But Miss Buecks-” Stephie whines. 

“No sweetheart,” Paige says gently, shaking her head. 

The little girl narrows her eyes before letting out a frustrated groan as she slips off of Paige’s lap. She loudly stomps her feet, glaring at all the adults in the room before she angrily storms upstairs. It’s so unlike the usually even-keeled little girl that Paige thinks it’s probably a reaction to the tension she can sense between the adults. Her eyes drift over Drew -who’s chewing at his lips in a similar manner to how his big sister often does- before locking with Azzi’s and she feels that familiar guilt of there’s always collateral damage for our mistakes pooling at the pit of her stomach. The brunette breaks eye contact first, letting out a heavy sigh before she follows behind her daughter and Paige lets her face fall into her hands, 

It feels like everything’s in free fall, like during an earthquake when everything shakes and the books -the complicatedly tangled stories of the past and present- go flying from their shelves. Paige rubs at her eyelids, trying to make this helpless feeling go away. Her fingers are coiled tightly around a rope, just like they had been on that night eight years ago and just like that night, she can feel the tips of them starting to bleed. She can feel Drew’s gaze fixated on her; can tell he’s contemplating whether to say something or not. Swallowing, Paige pulls her face out of her palms to look at her brother, a decisively defiant expression on her face. 

“Something you wanna say?” she asks him, cocking her eyebrows as if she’s daring him to speak. 

Drew hesitates for a second before an almost identical expression crosses his face, “what the fuck are you doing Paige?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Paige replies airly. 

Drew narrows his eyes at her, “seriously?”

“Seriously,” Paige shrugs. 

“This was supposed to be a temporary arrangement Paige,” Drew says, ignoring the way his sister flinches at the reminder as he drops his voice lower so they can’t be overheard, “you were supposed to be with Golden State for one season, hopefully win a championship and then you’d be off to New York at the end. That was the plan but clearly all of that has gone flying out the window. You’re getting attached to this city, this life, to them.” 

A barely believable “of course I’m not,” flutters weakly off of Paige’s lip as she blinks rapidly at the accusation. 

“Oh for fucks sake,” Drew curses, “Paige your bed looks like it hasn’t been slept in, in days. There’s almost no groceries in your fridge or your pantry. From what I saw of the garden, it’s basically been left for dead. Your closet is half empty and it sure as shit isn’t because they’re all in the laundry because as Stephie puts it, Azzi says that their laundry basket is three times heavier than it used to be with all your clothes.”

“I-I don’t-” Paige stutters, “that- that doesn’t- doesn’t mean-”

“It’s been two months -if even that- two months Paige and I think you're in even deeper now than you were the last time,” Drew spits the last two words out bitterly like their flames on the tip of his tongue and the sparks of it singe Paige’s skin. 

“That’s not- I’m not-” she tries to justify but it sounds hollow to her own ears. 

“You are,” Drew says exasperatedly, “what are you gonna do when she walks away again? When she lets you go again, what are you gonna do Paige?”

Her little brother isn’t cruel but Paige swears she’s never heard anything more aimed to hurt than these perfectly directed arrows he’s launching straight at her heart. The defense of she’s not going to leave me stays stuck in her throats, battling against the harsh thoughts of she already has that are taunting her. 

“She- I- you- this- I don’t- you can’t-” Paige doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say; she feels like a fish spluttering outside of the water, desperate to breathe air that seems to kill her the more she inhales it. 

Drew looks away, his face crumpling slightly, a mixture of sadness and guilt gleaming in his eyes, and Paige can tell that he hates himself a little for being the one to cause her this torment, the one to make her face the darkest possibility of her reality. 

“I was there Paige,” he says softly, “I was the one who watched you break in ways that I didn’t even think you were breakable,” his voice snaps, “and I was the one who watched how hard you had to work to put yourself back together. I don’t wanna see any of that again.”

“Drew,” Paige whispers. 

“And it wasn’t just her,” Drew continues, “you lost her family too.”

Paige gulps at the reminder, “they were still there. They came to games. They were at my wedding.”

Drew shakes his head, “but it wasn’t the same and you know it. You lost her and you lost them and this time,” he bites his lip, like he wishes the next words weren’t sitting on his vocal chords, waiting to spill out, “this time, if you lose her, you’ll lose a lot more.”

“What do you-” Paige heistates, unsure if she even wants to ask, “what do you mean?”

Her little brother pauses, mouth opening and closing like it’s painful to speak, before his eyes drift towards the stairs and Paige feels her heart sinking even before Drew says the words she knows he’s about to say. 

“You’ll lose her daughter. You’ll lose Stephie.”

“No,” the whispered syllable is out before Paige can even stop it, “no, no, no, no-”

“Paige-”

“Stop it Drew,” the blonde says louder than she wanted to as she clutches at her heart, trying to keep it whole as the tears overflow over her waterline. 

“Stop what Paige? Stop saying things you already know deep down but are choosing to ignore? Is that what you want me to stop doing?” Drew asks harshly. 

“Drew-”

“There’s a reason you didn’t want to commit to the Valkyries and you know it. There’s a reason you only wanted to be here for this season.” her younger brother says firmly. 

“I know,” Paige whispers, “I know.”

Drew’s eyes soften, “stick to plan Paige. Let the Liberty be the end goal. You’ll be in New York by the end of October.”

Paige bites her lip so hard, she can taste that morbid taste of iron on her lips as she opens her mouth to say something. She’s not sure if it’s to argue with Drew or to agree and she doesn’t get a chance to find out. Instead there’s a sharp intake of breath and then a quiet, timid voice laced with accusation and Paige feels the blood drain out of her body as she slowly turns around to find Stephie and Azzi -their faces ashen with identical expressions of betrayal- staring at her. 

“Miss Buecks, you’re moving to New York?”

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

An Unwavering Light - Chapter One

Rating: T/Teen for violence (in certain chapters), coarse language, and mature themes, including ones about trauma and depression.

Setting: begins before the confrontation with Aizen and co. in Fake Karakura Town arc, and goes from there to the manga's end.

Music to listen to: Swan Song by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify), Compassion by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify) Recollection I (YT | Spotify), II (YT | Spotify), and III (YT | Spotify) by Shiro Sagisu, Spiritual Bond by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify), Here to Stay by Shiro Saigsu (YT | Spotify), and Ceremony Commences by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify).

Synopsis: During the confrontation against Aizen, the unthinkable happens. For Hitsugaya, a vow is broken, and for Hinamori, her future is unknown. With everything in shambles, how can they piece their lives back together? Or their bond?

AN: And so it begins. This has been years in the making, starting very close to when I first read BLEACH. Thank you to everyone who voted in my last poll, where the story of Toshiro and Momo's reconciliation was the winner.

For those who haven't been following me, this fic is primarily about how Toshiro and Momo reconcile after Aizen's defeat. While this will be a chaptered story, I aim to write most of these chapters as though they could be standalone fics, so if you haven't reach the previous chapter, you hopefully don't feel out of the loop.

This story will be a long one (at this stage, I’ve planned for about 20 chapters, but we’ll see how we go) and is based on this massive list of headcanons I wrote last year. It will include scenes from other fics I’ve written (and were inspired by/based on the headcanon list to an extent) but either from another character’s perspective or changed in some ways.

This first chapter was a hard one to write. I have never really explored what happened to Hinamori in the months leading up the Fake Karakura Town arc, but I knew it would involve coming to terms with her trauma and accepting, in part, that Aizen was not the man she thought. It would also involve her having to find the strength to go confront him on the battlefield. I hope I did her justice in this chapter.

Finally, the figurines Hinamori has in her room are based on these dolls from Usaburo.

With all of that out of the way, let's get started! I hope you all enjoy this!

Disclaimer: BLEACH and it’s character’s belong to Tite Kubo.

Next chapter >>

_____________________________

She was surrounded by darkness. She turned – or at least, thought she’d moved to turn – to search around her. She opened her mouth to speak to the void around her, but heard no voice come from her throat. There was nothing to feel, hear, smell or see.

Has she done it right? The instructor had warned her she may not get there until another few attempts.

Then, after a blink, something small and bright sprun to life. Even from the long distance she stood at, she knew it was flames, resembling a campfire. She frowned when she couldn’t see any wood or kindling burning, the fire simply burning on it’s own.

She’d always been wary of fire, especially when it was not one within a firepit or a lantern, but she knew in her gut this one was not like others. When the voice comes form the flames, a whisper that gradually becomes a call, she stepped towards it.

_________________________________________

The curtains flutter in the gentle breeze, brushing over the windowsill in slow, undulating waves. Outside, one the division’s zanjutsu instructors yells commands at those in his class, nearly obscuring the chirping of a nearby bird and the chattering of officers that pass by underneath the window.

Hinamori listens to all of this and watches the shadows of the curtains dance across her quilt. There’s something hypnotic about it, almost meditative.

She wants to stay in this trance, be lost in it for a few moments longer. Her head is heavy, but empty for once. She doesn’t let any particular thought stick or take hold, just lets it be vague and pass by until it fades, like the afterimage of a bright streak of light.

But one thought persists. A memory, too recent and fresh to forget. She let’s it go by, but it keeps coming back, trying to get her attention.

It’s a minute later when a leaf blows in, landing on the quilt, just below her knees. She frowns at it, and her furrow only deepens when another joins it. They’re different shades; one a golden brown, the other flame red. Autumn is here, but it only felt like summer yesterday.

She tries following the curtains’ shadows again, but the leaves broke her concentration, and the memory creeps closer and closer, until it’s all she reflects on.

Hitsugaya’s face comes to mind, eyes wide and lips parted, speechless at first. It had been the first time she’d properly seen him in weeks – not in streaks of color while rushing at him with her sword raised, or at a distance while following him to Central Forty-Six. Ad she's stood before the screen, sorrow and guilt had outweighed the small flutter of gratitude that he didn’t turn his back on her. The way his expression had softened to one of concern, it makes her heart ache just as much now as it did then.

He cared, even after everything she did against him, he cared.

When he’d told her, in his own way, that an apology for her actions wasn’t needed, she’d never felt so relieved in all her life. She wouldn’t blame him for not forgiving her, but she didn’t know what she’d do if he hadn’t. She dreaded the idea of them growing apart and becoming strangers to each other.

She’d never thought of a life without Hitsugaya, as if somehow he would always be there until the very end.

But then, she’d never thought of a life without Aizen either.

And it was this same way of thinking that had led her to asking Hitsugaya to not kill her captain – former captain, she tries to correct. Her request had broken what little peace there’d been between them, and she’d become so lost in trying to justify it to him and to herself she doesn’t remember how Hitsugaya’s face looked, nor did she notice Yamamoto cast hakufuku on her. When she next awoke, it was in her room, with Isane at her side.

With a deep breath in, one that lifts her shoulders and chest, some of that weight in her head shifts, coming forward to make her neck crane forward. She had been granted an opportunity to make things right, and she had wasted it.

Yet, for all of her guilt for her actions against Hitsugaya and others, and for the shame of losing control in front of the Captain Commander, she can’t shake off the belief Aizen never meant for any of this.

Someone had to be controlling him, or something must have overcome him and compelled him to turn his back on all of them. She knew him. She had been by side for most of the time she was his lieutenant. He had told her things some of the other officer never knew – his favorite books, about the house he grew up in, memories of his student years at the Academy, even his favorite stalls in the Junrinan. Surely he would never do something so harsh without a good reason. He’d always said that to fight for something right and good you sometimes had to go against the laws set up others, after all.

But it doesn’t stop it from making it right that he'd left her behind. How could he have left Fifth Division behind? Why had he?

A knock breaks her reverie. Her throat is coarse from heavy breathing, and her hands on verge of cramping from clutching her quilt.

“It’s Funai-kun and I, Lieutenant,” comes Takagaki’s voice from behind her door.

Hinamori shakes her head and clears her throat, trying to take out the nerves out of her tone. Then, she manages to lift her lips into a smile. “Come in.”

Takagaki slides the door open, allowing Funai to walk in with Hinamori's lunch on a tray. Both are Fifteenth seat in the Fifth Division. If they saw any of her previous anxiety, they didn’t betray it with their own polite smiles.

“I hope we didn’t disturb you,” Takagaki says, trailing into the room.

Hinamori shakes her head. “It’s all right, I was getting a little peckish actually.”

“Guess we came just in time,” Funai chuckles. “Takagaki-san here made your meal today.”

Takagaki looks away, a slight flush colouring her cheeks. “I’m not a great cook, not like others in the Division. I hope it tastes okay.”

“I’m sure it’ll taste great,” Hinamori reassures. “You’ve been taking lessons from Hanae-san from Tenth Division, right?”

Both Funai and Takagaki blink at that.

“Y-Yes,” Takagaki eventually answers. “It’s been me and a group of other seated officers. He’s taught us a lot since we started.” Her smile returns, now thoughtful. “Um…thank you for remembering, Lieutenant.”

Hinamori’s lips widen into a grin. She tries to remember small things about her subordinates, and she at least still has that ability with her now.

Takagaki nods to Funai. “I better get back to the kitchens. I’ll leave the rest to you.” Then, she bows to Hinamori. “I hope you enjoy your lunch, Lieutenant Hinamori. Please let me know if there’s anything not to your liking.”

“I doubt that will be the case. Thank you for preparing my meal.”

After Takagaki leaves the room and Funai starts to lower the tray, a stronger gust of wind blows through. It gives him pause; then, he spies the leaves. “Apologies, Lieutenant, I didn’t see them until now.”

“It’s all right. The wind is pretty strong, I suppose,” Momo offers lamely. “I should’ve picked them up before."

Funai only chuckles nervously and puts the tray on top of her set of drawers. He picks up the leaves and throws them back outside, then goes to lean forward and close the windows.

Hinamori raises a hand. “No, allow me. I should’ve done this earlier.” She pulls the quilt aside and angles over to the window. While pushing the curtains aside and closing the windows, she tries to ignore the disquiet stare boring into the back of her head. It’s as though she is a fragile vase, at risk of tipping over.

He’s being kind, she chastises to herself, he cares about you. Everyone here does.

Windows closed, she sits back again and Funai visibly relaxes.

“How is everyone?” Hinamori asks, trying to distract both herself and him. “I could hear one of the instructors out there before. Sounds like he’s working everyone hard.”

Funai retrieves her lunch and lays the tray over her lap. “He certainly is. Everyone is keen to learn, of course.” He shrugs. “Otherwise, it’s business as usual. I’m sure Isawa-san could fill you in on more details.”

Hinamori nods. After giving thanks for the meal, she takes up the chopsticks. “Have you been drawing or painting lately?”

The answering smile is similar to Takagai’s one from earlier. “Ah, no, not recently. I haven’t found much inspiration lately.”

Hinamori frowns while taking up a heap of rice. “I hope it’s not because of work.”

“Oh, no! Of course not!” The nervous edge to his voice says otherwise. “It’s just a dry time for my art, that’s all. I’ll find a bit of inspiration at when I have time, you know how it is.”

It takes everything within Hinamori to not let her mind wonder to the implication he’d unintentionally brought up. Still, her gaze briefly darts to the sketchbooks lining the bottom shelf of her bookcase. Something flickers across Funai's face, akin to a look of horror, but at her unfaltering smile, he manages to hide it with a clearing of his throat and looking off to the side. “A-Anyway, I’ll leave you be. I’m sure you’ll want to eat in peace, and I have to find Hirose-chan.”

Hinamori blinks at the honorific. Had they gotten closer? She has to resist the urge to grin, the previous pang of darkness falling back, while picking up a tamagoyaki. “Her gardening group, I suppose?”

“Yeah, just maintenance this time.” He gestures to the window. “Being autumn and all, not many plants we can put in the ground, I guess. Not that I know much about gardening.”

Hinamori chuckles. “That is for Hirose-san to know.” She bows her head at the same time he does. “Thank you for bringing me lunch. Please tell Takagaki-san it’s delicious.”

“I will.”

“And…”Hinamori raises her head. “I hope you find inspiration soon. Please remember to not strain yourself with work.”

Funai gives a tense nod. “Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Hinamori watches him leave, not returning to her meal until the door closes. She’s lost her appetite, but doesn’t want to leave the dishes empty. With the window closed, the orders of the zanjutsu instructor are muffled, the wind swooshes against the walls, and save for her chewing and the clinking over chopsticks to bowls and plates, all is silent in her room.

It leaves her with nothing to do by ruminate, and that all too familiar heavy haze sets back into her head.

__________________________________

You do not need pity.

The room is dark save for a thin beam of moonlight cast on the wall. It had been silent until now, and Hinamori can’t remember what she’d been thinking about for the last few hours.

She twists on to her left side, facing Tobiume. Her zanpakuto is propped up against the wall, next to her set of drawers, the hilt shining dully.

 It’s coming from a good place, Hinamori responds. They mean well, and they care.

Even so, pity is not what you need, Tobiume argues. They should see you as the leader now that he’s gone.

A pang runs through Hinamori’s chest. Even the implication of him hurts. I’m not fit to lead.

Because you haven’t done anything to change things! Simmering heat radiates of the blade. We need to do something, or else we’re stuck here!

“I know I should! You don’t have to…” Her eyes burn with the threat of tears. Tobiume has been more temperamental than usual in the last few days. You’re angry with me.

The heat falters, and gradually cools to a warmth like that off a candle. No, I’m not. I want to see you get better.

Hinamori sighs. Pushing her quilt aside, she slides out of bed and kneels before her weapon. She ignores how much effort all of her movements seem to take, as if someone had tied weights to her limbs.

“I’m sorry it’s taking me so long,” she rasps. “I want to get better, but I don’t know how. It’s all so confusing.” She stares down at her knees, her forehead almost touching Tobiume’s scabbard. “You’ve always been there for me, and I take it for granted.”

You’re stronger than you realise, master. Do not doubt your skills.

Hinamori shuts her eyes and remains silent. It feels like everything she had learned and improved on is gone, vanished like Aizen. It's as if he took them with him, and all that is left within her is everything weak.

This is why you do not need pity. You risk stewing in it. If you continue to lie here, your mind and skills will grow dull, but they’ll never vanish. You’re strong, and you can always be stronger, but you are still strong. You need to show them you are not broken.

Hinamori sighs wryly. “It wouldn’t be the truth though. How can I be strong when all I want is for everything to back to what it was before?”

And with that she stands and returns to her bed. Tobiume is silent for the rest of the night.

__________________________________

Aizen is always in her dreams. Sometimes they start with him as the benevolent captain she knew, then he morphs into the cold figure that stood over her while she bled out. Other time, he has morphed into something monstrous, grinning at her and telling her she’ll never leave him, that she’s too devoted to him.

Waking from these nightmares becomes less of a shock with each one.

__________________________________

“The gardens are looking great.”

Genji raises his head from the paperwork he holds. “Hm?”

Hinamori points out the window to the next courtyard over. “I’m guessing that’s Hirose-san and her group’s work. It looks like they removed some plants and trimmed the bushes.”

Genji smirks. “It took quite a bit of effort. I may have been dragged into it too.”

Hinamori chuckles for the first time in weeks. “She has a way of pulling us into it, doesn’t she?”

Setting aside her longing to be with her division members with a sigh, she turns back to Genji. Ever since she began her recovery, he would visit every few days, sometimes bringing her a meal, other times just to check in on her and converse about casual going-ons  happening around the division.

Today, however, she couldn’t help but be hopeful when he entered with the documents in hand. “Did you need me to look over those papers?”

“No,” Genji says, shaking his head with too much vigor. “These are just my notes from today’s Lieutenant’s meeting. I believe you should know what was discussed.”

“Oh…” Again, she has to set aside her disappointment, this time with a forced smile. “Then, please tell me.”

Genji shifts the chair – a new piece of furniture that’d come not long after it was decided she needed to rest and recover in her room -- closer to Hinamori’s bed and tilts the documents for both of them to see. As he speaks, he points to the relevant lines for her to read. “We have been asked to take on more surveillance in our jurisdiction. Given recent…events, the Captain Commander felt it was best to maintain a watchful eye over all areas of the Soul Society and World of the Living to ensure the Arrancars don’t breach any of the recent kido defenses we’ve put up.”

Hinamori frowns. “These numbers…he wants more than half of the Division’s performing these duties.”

Genji only nods.

“But what if they’re needed for…?” The thought of the impending conflict makes her stomach churn.

Genji sighs through his nose. “There hasn’t been any intel from Twelfth Division about when that battle may be. They still predict it will occur in winter.”

Hinamori presses her lips together, and in the silence, tries to banish the memory of her asking Hitsugaya to not kill Aizen. She tries to understand why this strategy bothers her, as though something were missing. No, as though something were being kept away from her. “We have to be prepared by then. The zanjutsu and kido lessons won’t be enough.”

Genji’s shoulder tense a fraction. He doesn’t meet her gaze as she says, “Yes, of course, Lieutenant.”

“Oh, no, I…” She raises a hand, tempted to lay it on Genji’s shoulder, but then thinks better of it. “That wasn’t a critique of how you’re running the Division! You’re doing an exceptional job, especially given the circumstances. I feel much better knowing you’re leading everyone right now. I don’t intend to keep you in such a position for long, though, and I’m sorry this is the way things have turned out. I want to support you, however I can.”

Genji is slow to smile, and his eyes become glassy. Hinamori senses it’s not from sorrow or concern. He bows his head to her. “Thank you, Lieutenant. But please, continue to rest and recover. Everyone is cheering you on.”

Hinamori swallows against the tightness building up in her throat. “Thank you. I’ll keep doing my best.”

__________________________________

The occasional whispers don’t escape her. Whether they’re just outside her door or window, or a simple look exchanged between two of her officers, she knows what they’re not saying to her

“I heard the Lieutenant is still unwell. I hope she gets better soon.”

“I only transferred to the Division a week before Aizen’s betrayal. It’s so sad here.”

“I wish Captain Aizen were here.”

“How can you say that?!”

“Isawa-san seems really tired these days.”

“Did you hear about the new plan? You think they’re trying to distract us from the war?”

“The Lieutenant seems to be in a bad way.”

“Don’t talk so harshly! Lieutenant Hinamori will recover, she’s strong. She'll definitely get better."

“…But what if she doesn’t?”

__________________________________

Why had she become a Shinigami?

It’s a question that floats to the surface of Hinamori’s mind almost every night while she tries to sleep. Every time, she pushes it away, afraid of how the answer will lead to Aizen.

__________________________________

Hinamori dreams of the first time she saw Tobiume. She’d come to her as a fire, small but steady, in middle of a dark space. When she’d walked towards it, Hinamori gradually felt dry grass beneath her feet, and her arms brushed branches and leaves. The air was cold, but warmed as she neared the flames. The strongest smell was of burning wood, but beneath it is the slightest hint of something sweeter and floral.

A voice had wafted from it, a whisper at first, then growing louder as she approached the fire. She couldn’t comprehend what the voice was telling her at the time, but she knew she needed to listen, that whatever it said was important.

When she came to a stop, the flames continued to dance in front of her, memorizing and strangely familiar. Going against every instinct she’d had from childhood, she reached out to the scorching heat. To her surprise – and a disappointment didn’t understand – the fire lurched away from her. She leaned further in, and still it avoided her, diving in and around her hand no matter which way she angled it.

The voice had stopped too, and save for the sizzling and crackling of the flames, there was silence.

When Hinamori wakes from this, she doesn’t feel relieved to have had a dream for once that wasn’t about Aizen. She dwells on the silence until it’s buzzing in her ears.

__________________________________

Though Hinamori rarely does so, she’s allowed to leave her room for brief periods. For her visit from Nanao today, she meets her in the Division's gardens. Sitting on a bench under a Japanese maple, the sun is warm on her face and hands and the breeze, though cool, is gentle. It's not usually this warm in September, but she's glad for it. It’s been a long time since she was outside, and she takes in long breaths of fresh air.

For a moment she wonders why she didn’t step outside more often, but maybe it was the nature of the restrictions put on her. It was meant to ensure her recovery, that she wouldn’t strain herself by going to far and making herself more fatigued than she already is. She can’t help but think it’s for another reason, one she dismisses quickly.

“I think you’ll find this one interesting for it’s plot.”

Hinamori takes the book from Nanao. “Petals on the Wind. It looks…different.”

“It’s from the World of the Living,” Nanao explains. “I got it when I was posted on a mission last time. It has an intriguing mystery that kept me guessing and a slow build up for the relationship between the two main characters. There’s references to events and devices from the World of the Living, however, so you may need to set it aside every now and then to do some research.”

Hinamori places it atop of the latest editions of Seireitei Communication at her side, then gestures to the second book Nanao holds, Another World Through a Flower Pot. “And that one?”

“It’s written by a former officer of the Ninth Division. It’s about the lives of two women, one from our world and the other from another world, who can communicate with each other through a flower pot.” At Hinamori’s raised brows, Nanao chuckles. “I know, it sounds strange, but it was oddly touching. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

“I've always trusted your judgement.” Hinamori takes the other book and puts both of them in her lap. “Thank you for these, I really appreciate it. I’ve run out of books to read in my room.”

“It’s no trouble, I had a feeling that would be the case. You've always been a fast reader.” Nanao adjust her glasses, raising them further up the bridge of her nose. Behind them, her eyes are soft with sympathy. “We miss you at the Women’s Association meetings, and I miss our discussions about books.”

“Well, you’ll have to come by again once I finish these.” She pats the stack of books. “ I miss our discussions too, I don't get to talk about what I read with a lot of people. I’ll be sure to send a message to you when I’m done reading these.”

“Please do.” Nanao's smile slowly falls and she looks to the side, rueful. “I’m sorry, but I have to return to the barracks. Captain Kyoraku and I have to go over some reports, and you know how he can be.”

Hinamori can’t help but sigh. Despite the obvious hesitations from her fellow lieutenant – in her pauses before she spoke and the concern she would catch in her gaze at certain points --  this short time with her had been the closest thing to normal she’d experience in months.

“I understand,” she says while they both rise from the bench.

Nanao pauses mid turn. Pursing her lips, she looks back to Hinamori. “I know I asked before, but…are you really all right?”

Hinamori forces a smile. “I know how it may seem, but I really am much better than before. I’ll be back to my duties before you know it.”

Nanao puts on a forced smile of her own, unable to hide the concern from her eyes. “Of course.”

“I’m afraid I can’t accompany you to the main entrance, I’ve been told I shouldn’t go any further than the main barracks and it’s courtyards.”

“It’s quite all right, I’ll see myself out.” Nanao bows to her. “It was good to see you. I’ll be sure to visit when you've read the books."

“I’ll look forward to it.”

Hinamori watches her leave. As soon as her friend is out of sight, she falls back against the bench. This fatigue isn’t getting any better, but the weight in her mind is floating somewhere far away. She tries to keep it that way as she straightens and slowly returns to her room.

__________________________________

While reading the Seireitei Communication that evening, Hinamori gets stuck on the haiku poem submissions from Izuru. They all speak of nature, but differ in certain ways; one is about change, another about autumn, and another about the unknowable quality forests can have. As always, she enjoys them and can understand why he has a following for his writing.

She sometimes extends her sense to check on his reiatsu. When she can sense it, it’s as she’s always known it: a strange swirl, dark and weighed down, but not unfriendly.

She wonders if he ever contemplates coming to see her. She’d been told he came to visit her a twice while she was unconscious in Fourth Division. She’ll apologise for her actions when she next sees him. Knowing him, he will too.

Maybe they’ll just pick up where they left off, discussing their divisions’ matters and then move on to their hobbies or how they can get Renji to come with them for a dinner. They can reminisce about their Academy days. But given what happened, can they still do that?

No, she knows, it can’t be like that. They’re changed now. She considers him a friend still, and if him visiting her was any indication, he still does too, but there’s no telling what their friendship will look like now.

Maybe, if she’s brave enough and can see it won’t affect him too harshly, she can ask him how he’s coping with Ichimaru’s betrayal. It will be to comfort him as a friend, but selfishly, it’ll also be to see if she can learn anything from him. Did he have nightmares about what happened? Did he still cling to how Ichimaru used to be? Did he wonder why he betrayed them or believe he had a good reason to?

She shakes her head. She won't burden him with such questions. She already does it to herself, and it only makes her head heavy and her mind spiral far away from the present.

__________________________________

She often asks Genji if he’s heard word about how the advance team are doing in the World of the Living. He always shakes his head and says, “Nothing yet, Lieutenant.”

Why had they not received word from them? Were they struggling? Were they communicating with the Soul Society at all? They must be, otherwise there’d be rumblings amongst the captains and lieutenants and a new team would be sent to retrieve them. Was the information they were sharing something only the Captain-Commander is meant to know?

Sighing through her nose, Hinamori takes a sip of the tea Genji had brought her and leans back against her pillow. She watches the rainfall outside and listens to it pattering on the roof. It must be this weather that has her thinking about Hitsugaya.

The last time she saw him arises in her mind again. This time, however, she tries to recall his surroundings. She’d been so focused on him, they’re blurry, but she remembers a window and a floor similar to the ones in the Soul Society. There was a cabinet behind him, with photos on top and other items. Was there a small shrine there too?

Then there as what he wore. It was the first time she saw him wear anything from the World of the Living. If not for the gravity of the situation, she would’ve dwelled more on how strange he looked. She’s grown so accustomed him to seeing him in uniform and with his haori. Without them, he’s closer to looking like the Soul she first met the in Jurinan.

To think he’d once never wanted to be a Shinigami. He’d planned on staying with his Granny, taking care of her and their house. She wasn’t blind to the way he was treated, it dawned on her not long after she was seen with him in public. She never understood why he was ostracized by her friends and the Junrinan's residents, but in more recent years, she began to wonder if his powers had something to do with it.

Bowing her head, she looks at her reflection in the tea. She’s not like the girl from the Junrinan she once was. She seems so far away now, almost forgotten. Where did she go?

__________________________________

That night she again dreams of when Tobiume first came to her. Only this time, Hitsugaya is on the opposite side of the flames. He looks like how he did when they were children, his young face and his green yukata illuminated by the firelight. He looks into the flames, and doesn’t respond when she calls out his name.

He only takes notice of her when she’s at the fire.

“What’re you doing here?” she asks. She blinks at the sound of her voice. She sounds younger and looking down at her arms, they're shorter and her fingers lack callouses. Is she younger too?

 “You told me to come here,” he says, like it should be obvious.

She frowns at him. “I did?”

He slowly walks around the fire to stand at her side. “The others couldn’t make it,” he says, folding his arms. “They’re too busy.”

“Others?”

“Ayumi and Tatsukichi.”

“Oh…Why did I want us to gather here?”

His brow furrows deeper and gives a stuff shrug.

Hinamori looks around, but the firelight only shows the two them. “Did I also ask Kira-kun, Abarai-kun, and Rangiku-san to come?”

 “Who?”

“They’re my friends too.”

“I don’t know them.”

She doesn’t know why she asked. This is clearly a Hitsugaya from the past, but there’s something about him that doesn’t quite fit how she knew him at this age.

He jerks his chin at the fire. “This thing doesn’t like me.”

She blinks. “What do you mean?”

He pulls the sleeve back from his arm and raises it. There are rivulets of water running down his skin. “See?”

She acts on instinct and grabs his wrist to pull him away. She freezes when can sense rather see another presence. She subtly tries to search, but Hitsugaya still sighs. “What’s got you distracted?”

“Don’t move, Hitsugaya-kun.”

“Ha, you finally call me by name.”

“Shh!” Then, quieter. “There’s someone else here.”

Rather than the roll of his eyes and comment about her being paranoid like she expects, his eyes widen and his posture tenses. This alertness reminds her of the Hitsugaya she knows in the present. “Where?”

“I’m not sure, but they’re here.”

She can sense they intend to harm them. Heart racing, she thinks to search for a weapon but can’t see anything. She could feel around for and break off a root or a branch, but she knows it’ll be useless against whatever this is.

The fire, as if picking up on her panic, has become erratic. The flames dance in every direction and grow taller, twisting around as embers fly high into the darkness and fall around them.

Then it comes to her, as if it were the most obvious solution.

“Hitsugaya-kun, we need to get into the fire!”

Hitsuagaya stares at her as if she’s lost her mind. “What?!”

She’s already backing herself into it, and with her grip on his wrist, she’s pulling him along.

“Let go of me, Hinamori!” he yells, struggling to get out of her grasp.

“It’ll be okay, Shiro-chan,” she tries to reassure, even as she feels her hand slicken with the water forming on his arm.

Her back is scorching when she steps into the fire. Just as she knew, it doesn’t burn her. It feels right to be in here. She stops halfway in. “This fire will protect you,” she promises. “It’ll never hurt you.”

“We can’t go in there!” he yells. "You need to get out of there!"

It’s as if she snaps out of a trance. Despite how right it feels to be in these flames, it’s wrong to bring him in here. As a tear falls down her cheek, she releases her grip. Hitsugaya's arm, having struggled to break free, goes flying in an arc. Water drops fly off his limb and evaporate in the hot air.

This fire was ignited by her, but it’s not for her. It’s not Tobiume. The realization comes to her as a flare of pain races up from the soles of her feet up to her head. Then, from the darkness, another hand clasps Hitsugaya’s wrist. With a scream, she tries to reach for Hitsugaya from the flames. Her hand, though whole, feels as if it’s on fire.

“No!” she screams. “Let him go!”

Hitsugaya repeatedly smacks and kicks the attacker behind him, showing none of the combat training he'd learned for decades. It does nothing to loosen the grip they have on him. Then, above his head, there’s a cold smile from the being.

“I’m sorry!” she cries out to Hitsugaya as the being's face comes into the fire light. “I’m sorry!”

Hinamori flings up from her sleep with a strangled sound caught in her throat. Her arms are out in front, as if still reaching for her childhood friend. She stumbles into the bathroom to wash the thin sheen of sweat from her face and shaky arms. After changing into new robes, she lies back down a few minutes later.

She stares at the ceiling, watching it turn from dark grey to pale yellow as the sun rises.

__________________________________

The next day, Hirose, one of the Division’s Twelfth seats, comes by with a bunch of flowers. Hinamori can’t help but grin when receiving them, her mood lifting for an instance at the sight of the bright chrysanthemums and cosmos.

For a moment, there’s a sense of the old normality, but she tries to not let it stray too far into the past as she chats with her subordinate. It becomes harder when Hirose spots a vase on her bookcase and uses it to put the flowers into. It’s one she’d bought many years ago. She had hoped to one day put it on her desk when she became a Lieutenant, but it never left her old or current quarters.

__________________________________

It’s three days later when Hinamori is in the middle of reading one of Nanao’s novel and she remembers Rangiku’s birthday was yesterday. She hasn’t returned from her mission in the World of the Living, that gave Hinamori some time to think about what to give her when she was back. She can’t go out and buy anything, and she doesn’t want to trouble her officers with buying something on her behalf.

Hinamori puts the books aside, then with some effort, rises and slips out of her bed. On unsteady legs she comes to her bookcase. She’d read most of the novels stacked on the shelves, but would Rangiku be interested in any of them? She isn’t much a reader, and what little she does read is often limited to magazines and short novels packed with either melodrama or light-hearted content. None of Hinamori’s books contain either of those things, and the only magazines she had were old copies of the Seireitei Communication – ones that feature articles or creative contributions from her friends.

She glances at the purple vase on the middle shelf, still with Hirose’s flowers in it. A few days on, they’re beginning to lose their vitality, with several petals already drooping and fading in colour, and their sweet scent is developing a sour undercurrent.

Next to it are tiny figurines, a gift from Hitsugaya and Rangiku for her birthday a few years ago. They are of a boy, short-haired and in a blue kimono, and a girl, pig-tailed and in a floral white and red kimono. Their proportions are reduced to two spheres each – smaller ones for their heads and bigger ones for their bodies. They stand next to her each on their tiny platform and beam at her. For a moment, she can’t help but smile back at them. To this day, they still remind her of her and Hitsugaya when they were children. She’d even been tempted to paint the boys hair white not long after receiving them, but was too embarrassed by the idea.

There’s nothing here she wants to part with, and she scolds herself of even thinking of giving Rangiku something she has here rather than give her something new.

Her gaze floats down to and lingers on the sketchbooks on the bottom shelf. Perhaps she can draw her something, but what? Hinamori had always wanted Rangiku to sit for her to draw her portrait. Or maybe a simple letter, apologising for actions and telling her how much her friendship means in times like this. It isn’t much, but it will have to do for now.

Withholding a wince, she bends down and takes out the newest sketchbook. As she straightens, she opens to a blank page. But it’s not. It’s of a drawing, one that gives her pause. Then, sends a wave of nausea through her and a slip of cold rippling her back. Her breath catches in her throat, and she drops the book as if were on fire.

It doesn’t snap shut, falling with the portrait facing up. One of many, she knows. She stumbles back to her bed, almost tripping over her own feet and unable to look away from her drawing of Aizen. He smiles serenely at her, that peaceful expression she always associated with him. She barely hears Tobiume’s cries over her heart racing in her ears. In that moment, the memory of him smiling coldly at her overlays it for a flash.

She collapses on to her bed, then scrambles for the window and throws it open, heaving a lungful of air. She fights against the urge to throw up, covering her mouth.

“Lieutenant!”

Higuchi, her Seventh's seat, and Genji stand in the courtyard below her window, doused in the orange light of the setting sun and in the middle of a conversation until she forced her window open. In her peripheral, officers and new recruits had been trailing into the main barracks, but stopped at Genji’s alarmed cry.

“Hold on, I’ll be there!” Genji calls out as he rushes to the nearest barracks entrance. Higuchi hesitates, then sprints to follow his superior. Most of the officers and recruits move on, but a few linger, exchanging worried and knowing glances.

When Genji and Higuchi reach her room, Higuchi guides her to her bathroom. Still, Hinamori peers over her shoulder at Genji. He stares at the sketchbook on the floor, unmoving and unblinking, wide-eyed. Slowly, he picks it up. Sorrow flickers across his face, but as Higuchi leaves her and shuts the door behind himself -- upon her weak instance to do so -- her Third seat’s face turns to something stony.

She wishes she had Genji’s strength.

The next several minutes pass in a blur. She emerges from the bathroom several minutes later, her stomach emptied and a foul taste lingering in her mouth despite washing it out. While Higuchi helps her settle back in, Genji hurriedly leaves and returns with a glass of water. She has no appetite and requests that noone prepare her dinner. Higuchi, ever paternal, still insists on at least a bowl of chestnut rice, and too fatigued to put up a fight, she agrees to it.

It’s not until her officers reluctantly leave the room she notices the sketchbook has been put back in it’s place. She can’t stand to look at any of them. How foolish she’d been. Had she not been hesitant to look at them weeks ago?

He’s in all of them. And not just there; he’d given her some of the novels lining her shelves, with small messages written on the first page of each.

Tomorrow, she’d ask Genji to move them and the sketchbooks into her closet. She tries to ignore the thought of her cowardice, that she would ask another to this instead of doing it herself. She wants to cry, but can’t find the strength to do so.

At some point, an officer brings her a small bowl of chestnut rise. She doesn't take a mouthful until it’s gone cold and the sky has darkened to night. When another officer comes back, it’s not even half eaten. It sits in her stomach, lying there like she does. Suspended somewhere, heavy and immoveable.

That night Hinamori watches her alarm clock tick over from the last day of September to the first day of October. Another month closer to winter.

__________________________________

Ever since the incident with the sketchbook, she has lain in bed doing little but eat and sleep. She couldn’t even focus on reading or having conversations with officers who came to visit or bring her meals. Genji never brought up the sketchbook, and like others, he became more wary of his words and his gaze ranged from pity to disquiet, more obvious than before.

Isane comes to check on her every few days. They check her physical condition, then she asks her the usual questions designed to her to speak her mind. She's more happy to see her friend than she is divulge how she feels; it should feel as though she were getting things off her chest and letting go of the weights in her mind and limbs. It helps in the moment, but when Isane leaves and Hinamori is left alone, it returns quickly.

She’s never been so tired in her life, nor so heavy in the mind. It becomes worse at night, especially when everyone but her is asleep.

Now, two weeks from the incident, it's no different. She stares out at the gap between the curtains, searching for the stars between the gaps in the clouds.

She faintly recalls star gazing with Hitsugaya when they were children, and even more recently. It's had been last year on her birthday, with her and her other friends. They'd all gone out to dinner, but Hitsugaya only joined them for the stargazing. To see everyone there, happy to be with each other, knowing they could turn to each other when needed, it made the moment one of the happiest memories she has.

It stands in stark contrast to now. Can they go back to days like that? No, not go back. Can days like that happen again in the future?

The thought does not bring the usual self-pity and hopelessness. It sparks something at the back her mind. It's enough to make her want to move.

With what little strength she has, she slides to the edge of her bed and reaches for Tobiume. In the silence, her zanpakuto’s reiatsu becomes a small fire, warm and comforting. The fact she does this, after barely speaking a word to her master, makes a lump form in Hinamori’s throat.

Taking her weapon, she scoots away from the edge, rolls on to her opposite side and lays her zanpakuto over her comforter. Keeping a hand on the scabbard, she shuts her eyes. Tears fall from them not long after.

Hours later, she sleeps without dreams. She wonders if Tobiume somehow blocked them from her, or maybe, she’d reached a state where she’s too afraid to dream but too exhausted to force herself away from rest.

Regardless, she sleeps through the whole night for the first time in months.

__________________________________

It’s a surprisingly warm day, with a gentle breeze blowing through her room and not a cloud in the sky.

Rather than watch the shadows of the dancing curtains, Hinamori closes her eyes and enjoys the warmth. It penetrates through her skin, touching her bones. A glimmer of peace briefly sparks in her heart. It’s like rediscovering a lost but fond memory, or coming back to an old friend.

She at once clings to that ember of peacefulness, but also allows the lump her throat to form and the tears to quietly course down her face. They are not the same as ones she’d shed last night or in the last few weeks when she was alone. They are not of guilt or sadness or hopeless or denial.

Something freeing, something that felt like the unlocking of a door, but not yet the opening of it.

__________________________________

“They’ve really improved with their kido. Even so, I know they miss you’re training lessons.”

Hinamori smiles out at the field of recruits practicing their kido on targets against the far wall. It's most natural smile she's given in a while.

“I miss giving demonstrations,” she admits to Genji. “They’ve all come a long way, the instructor has been teaching them well.”

He grins. “I’ll be sure to pass that feedback on to him.”

They stand above the training grounds on one of the balconies. Even though her mood had been low, Hinamori decided that morning she needed to leave her room. Genji had been hesitant at first, but she brought him around when she reminded him of Isane's recommendation that she get fresh air whenever she felt up to walking around.

Even so, he'd given her a blanket to wrap around her shoulders against the cold winds. It ruffles in the wind now, and she’d rather throw it off, but she knows the officer would worry if she did.

She and Genji continue to watch the recruits in silence. She makes notes for each one, from their postures while casting spells to the resulting beams that strike the targets. She’s heartened to hear the cheers and claps when someone hits a target, and mostly sympathetic encouragement when someone doesn’t. There’s still a sense of comradery, much more so than when she’d been advised to rest months ago.

Still, she doesn’t fail to notice two recruits sitting on the sidelines. They’re waiting their turn, but one of them bows her head. Her friend puts a hand on her shoulder, and it’s as if something in her breaks. She folds into herself and her frame shakes.

Another recruit comes over and kneels before her. He asks her what happened, and Hinamori can catch pieces of what she says. “It’s…I haven’t been able to…Aizen.”

However, her other friend nods sympathetically. “I’ve also been finding it hard.”

“We all have,” says the other. “We…and Fifth Division…stand strong.”

“Oh no,” Genji says under his breath.

“Do you know that recruit?” Hinamori asks without looking away from the scene.

“No, she's new, but…” He can’t finish his sentence. He turns towards the entrance they’d come out of. “I’ll go and see what’s happened.”

Hinamori remembers the whispers, had caught glimpses of low moral from outside her window as officers came and went in the courtyards. She's certain Genji has had to deal with situations like this on an almost daily basis since Aizen left them behind. Something about this moment is different, however, and she can’t stand by and watch anymore.

“No,” she says firmly. “I’ll go.”

Genji frowns at her. “Are you sure? I can handle this.”

She shakes her head and offers a small smile. “How about we both go, then.”

By the time they get to training grounds, the three recruits have been joined by a few more. The concern they show warms Hinamori’s heart, and she’s slow to approach them.

One notices her, then another, and soon, everyone’s eyes are on her. They speak her rank and name, most bowing, other’s too surprised to do so. Seeing them all, up close for the first time in over a month, something shifts in her. The warmth in her chest dims, and in it’s place is something contracting.

She’s seen gazes like this before, on battlefields and in scenes of destruction. Shinigami looking to her for orders, Souls looking for answers. They’re shocked by her unannounced appearance, but just as quickly, they’re seeking from her. It’s the same gazes they gave to Aizen, looking to him, up to him. Knowing he would lead them to right place, to sooth their hearts and deal punishment to Hollows who threatened their world.

He would go against the laws if meant championing a greater good. She keeps staring at her subordinates, and for the first time in far too long, anger simmers in the pit of her stomach.

What good reason would he have to leave us behind?

“L-Lieutenant Hinamori.”

She snaps out of her reverie. The crying recruit, still supported by her friend at her side, bows her head. “I-I…F-Forgive me, I-I’m not…”

Hinamori breathes, her shoulders rising a fraction before lowers. Then she bows her to. “It’s all right. I didn’t mean to draw attention.” Then, straightening up and addressing everyone. “I was watching your progress with Isawa-san. I didn’t want to interrupt your training, forgive me.” When no one speaks, she thinks to fill the silence. “I know I haven’t been present for the last month, but I can see you’ve all greatly improved. When I’m in better health, I hope return to giving demonstrations and assist you in becoming even better.”

She’s emboldened by the smiles and nods from some around her. “I know these three months have been hard on everyone,” she says, loud enough that her voice echoes around the training grounds. “It hasn't escaped me, and I am deeply sorry that I have not been there to lead you all. I am getting better...but Fifth Division is nothing without it's officers. Without your all of support and strength, we would not be where we are today. So, please, keep going, and we can continue to make Fifth Division a great place to be!"

The speech doesn't draw an enthusiastic response, but most are smiling and nodding and few even cheer. If she'd been more prepared, she's certain she could've come up with better words.

While Genji directs everyone else back to the kido training, Hinamori turns her back to the weeping recruit. "What's your name?"

"Tanaka Mai, Lieutenent," the recruit responds.

"How long have you been with the Fifth Division, Tanaka-san?"

"Three months."

"I see...I'm sorry it's been like this for you."

"Ah, no, please Lieutenant, y-you don't need to apologise." She glances at her supporting friend, and then at the other who had knelt before her. Fresh tears well up in her eyes. "I looked up to him, Lieutenant. I wanted to be like him."

It hits Hinamori's heart, and she can feel the cracks web through her whole body. For a flicker, she sees younger self in this recruit. And not just her, in her friends too, who have similar crestfallen expressions as her.

She can't be here. She doesn't know what to say without also breaking into tears.

She bows, her hair falling and obscuring her face. "I understand." Then, abruptly rising, she turns in her heel and marches to Genji. "Isawa-san!"

Genji's concern makes her wince inwardly, but she quickly instructs him assist and apologize to Tanaka and her friends on her behalf. She departs in an instant, needing more space and air. She ends up in the courtyard outside of her room. She wipes the tears that threaten to spill down her cheeks as she paces around the maple tree and bench. A few officers pass by the courtyard, and she offers a weak greeting to them, and then in turn bow and are quick to move along, sensing it wasn't the best time to speak with their lieutenant.

After several minutes she comes to a stop and ends up looking at her bedroom window. She'd sat behind it for months, rarely coming outside. Rarely thinking of anything beyond what had happened.

She sense Genji approaching before she sees him.

"Lieutenant," he says softly as he approaches. "Are you all right?"

She doesn't turn to him. "I'm sorry for how I reacted back there. If I had prepared myself better, I would have been able to handle it."

"No, it's understandable, you don't have to apologize. Please, don't think about it."

"I have to, as their Lieutenant."

He doesn't argue, because on some level, he must know she's right. On some level, he may even resent having to step up to higher duties, and she wouldn't blame him.

For a minute in the silence between them, she shuts her eyes. They burn, and her mind whirls with the threat of panic and having too many heavy thoughts tumbling around. She breahtes, takes in the fresh air, just as Isane said she should.

There's no going back now.

“Isawa-kun.” She turns back to her Third seat. “Captain Aizen…he really betrayed us.”

She’d wanted to end it as a question – he really betrayed us, didn’t he? –but she needs it to be a statement, as much to herself as to show Genji her acceptance.

He tenses, and when his gaze darts away, it strikes her that maybe his hesitancy this whole time had not just been out of concern to her. He had shown determination when looking at her portrait of Aizen, but maybe, like her false smile, it was his way of facing this. She was not blind to her Division’s suffering, to the effect his betrayal had on all of them, but had she somehow underestimated how deeply it ran?

“Yes, he did.” There’s the slightest waver in Genji's voice. It’s enough to make Hinamori bow her head to him.

“I’m sorry for leaving you with so much work. I said before I would get better, and it’s taken me so long To tell you the truth, I don’t know how I can lead us out of this.”

Genji stumbles for words, but when she raises her head, he’s rendered speechless. She hopes her expression convey her will to right the wrongs Aizen left behind. “But I won’t give up. I am still the Lieutenant of the Fifth Division, and I want to continue to be. I will need you and other seated officers’ advice once I recover. Together, we can bring the Fifth Division back and help everyone.”

Genji's eyes brighten. He ducks his head, and again his voice catches. “Of course, Lieutenant Hinamori.”

__________________________________

Why had you become a Shinigami?

The question emerged six days ago, and for the first time in weeks. Today, it comes to Hinamori while she eats breakfast and causes her to stop chewing. Rather than push it away, she clings to it. It’s the only thought that isn’t of her past actions, the pity of those around her, or of Aizen. The question is a glimmer in this darkness, a tiny speck of light that promised something more than the ruminations swirling around constantly day and night. If she’s going to get better, this seems like the best place to start.

When she reflected on it in the last week, the thought ended up leading to her former captain just as she'd feared, but she is quick to divert him away.

Now, setting her breakfast aside, she crosses her legs and places Tobiume in front of them, making her zanpakuto a focal point to concentrate on. It’s almost like jinzen, but without the full connection to her zanpakuto to enter her inner world.

A meditative trance comes over her, causing her to let out a long, deep breath. There had been a reason before Aizen, before she even got accepted into the Academy. It was more vaguely defined, tinged with childish optimism and naivety, and somehow it persisted well into her first days in the Fifth Division, even after the horrific things she’d been on battlefields. Even after realising the gap between the wealthy families and those who came for the lower districts. Even when faced with realities that came with being a Shinigami, that she could not save every life or help every Soul.

You wanted to be a light.

Her zanpakuto’s interruption doesn’t startle her. She’d felt her presence in the back of her mind, mediating with her on the question.

“I wanted to help others,” she rasps. “I thought the Shinigami who brought me here was one of the kindest people I met…” She sniffs, throat tightening on the verge of a sob. “I don’t even remember what they look like now.”

It’s natural for a Soul to forget their time in the World of the Living and how they arrived at the Soul Society.

“It was considered strange that I kept my memories for as long as I did.”

She senses Tobiume nod. You wanted to find that Shinigami who led you here.

“I never did.”

It stopped bothering you at some point. Not long after you met your friends.

The faces of Izuru, Renji, and Rukia come to mind briefly. It feels like more decades ago than it was when they first met. They weren't the first Souls she met with the same potential as her, but with Renji and Izuru in particular, she knew not long after meeting them she would still be friends with them for many decades to come. Maybe it had been the few personal interests that had intersected, or that they were just the first fellow students they really spoke to in the Academy.

Truthfully, she thinks it's because of the fight they put up against the Hollows in the training mission that had gone wrong. She had run into the fray against the Huge Hollows, and they'd followed. Somewhere in that back her mind in that moment, she knew she would fight back to back with either of them. If they were willing to follow her into a battle like this, even when she made a sudden decision as that, or to protect someone none of them has really known, she wanted them to stay in her life.

But after that battle, when Aizen and Ichimaru had come to save them, it all changed. She resists the urge to stop thinking there, to keep pushing through and see this train of thought to it's end.

Yes, her and Izuru in particular had changed. It had been a gradual thing, taking place over a month or so, with all three of them unable to forget what happened, but with Hinamori and Izuru learning more about the two Shinigami who saved them. Izuru's motivation shift slightly, going from becoming a Shimigami to appease his family's wishes, to wanting to serve under the men who had saved them.

For Hinamori, it was almost a seismic shift; her goal changed to wanting to serve under Aizen, and maybe even become his lietuenant. It was almost a trenous thought at the time, hoping with Ichimaru would step down as his lieutenant. She'd never forget the burst of hope that filled her when he announced that he was moving on to become Third Division's captain; she'd been a Fourth seat then.

Looking back now, it's strange her first thoughts after a life-treatenign situation were of Aizen and Ichimaru, and not of Hisagi ro thanking either of her freinds for coming to assist. She had been younger the, but even so, she would've hoped she had the capacity to at least think of thanking them. Renji had known better, would rarely talk about either man afterwards and would wonder how Hisagi was doing or how either her or Izuru could become so awestruck by Aizen or Ichimaru.

"I changed after that day," she reiterates, shaking her head to herself. "That's all it took."

You were younger then, Tobiume offers, and inexperienced. You flew in to save someone in need. Doesn't that align with your original intentions?

Back then, she had gone to help Hisagi without a second thought and despite her fear. She didn't know him, but he was injured and out-numbered. She couldn't leave him. It went against everything she stood for.

She thought Aizen had stood for those same things. It's one of the reason she had admired him so deeply. She saw who she thought was the embodiment of everything she wanted to be, but believed she could only ever become a pale imitation of him. He had been too good, too perfect in many ways.

But even as she served under him, had she not still wanted to help others? Had it always been because she wanted to impress him or try to be like him? A lot of those instances had been without his presence or knowledge. The back of her eyes burn.

"I never lost it," she realises, voice becoming raspy. "Even now, I still want to..." I want to help others. I want to help my friends.

He had become her reason to reach the level she had, but he hadn't taken away her original goal. If he hadn't taken that away, maybe she he hadn't taken other things with him.

With a sob, she bends over Tobiume. A tear lands on her scabbard, and another on her quilt. She rubs her eyes and Tobiume soothes her in the back of her mind.

I told you, she says, you're stronger than you know. You still have these skills, master. They never left you.

After several minutes, Hinamori calms her sobs. She brings up Tobiume and presses her forehead to her hilt. "I'm so sorry, Tobiume. Thank you, thank you..."

A zanpakuto, she recalls from one of her instructors, is a reflection of their wielder. When you communicate with your weapon, you are communicating with yourself.

How had she not realised it sooner? She had been so focused on him, she didn't see what was still within her and in front of her. She still had her friends, her subordinates, and in time, she would strengthen herself again. She didn't know how for the latter, but she had been working the other two, albeit in a fumbling and unsure manner.

That sensation, of the unlocked but still closed door returned. Now, the handle turns, and she doesn't know what lies on the otherwise, but she will face it.

He had his reasons for betraying them, whatever they were, but he had not taken her own reasons to stay on as lieutenant of the Fifth Division.

__________________________________

It’s two days later when the zanjutsu instructor is back in the dojo, yelling just as loud as the last time.

There is no breeze today, or birds chirping in a nearby tree, and most of the leaves have fallen from the trees. It’s all she can hear.

On unsteady legs, she rises from bed and manages to bend over and grab Tobiume’s hilt.

Master? Her zanpakuto questions.

Hinamori slowly comes to the middle of her room, barely managing to stand straight. “Let’s practice.”

Are you sure?

“You told me I do not need pity.”

Something flared through Tobiume; it felt like a hope and a determined smirk. Good!

Hinamori assumes the stance the officers in to dojo below have. She positions her feet, steady on the ground, and holds Tobiume with both hands, the sheathed blade’s tip pointing towards the ceiling. She breaths in and out deeply, trying to dispel the weight in her mind and tremors running through her limbs.

She listens to the instructor and the officers responding cries. Not wanting to draw attention for the fear of an officer rushing in thinking something’s wrong, she keeps her mouth closed and follows the movements they would.

On her first swing, she loses her balance and topples to the side, landing on her bed. She ignores Tobiume's concerned cries and gets back up. "I'm fine," she tries to reassure. "I just have to keep going. Believe in me, Tobiume."

She definitely rusty, continually losing her footing in the first volley of practice strikes, but she does not let it deter her. She keeps raising her sword and bringing it down, falling back, then stepping forward doing it again and again.

It becomes a rhythm; then, at some point, muscle memory. She forgets about the weight in her limbs and mind, and she’s more free than she’s ever been.

_________________________________

Hinamori wakes an hour before the sun rises. Not feeling the urge to shut her eyes again, she gets out of bed and takes up Tobiume. She sneaks to a training ground -- one away from the barracks that house her subordinate -- and performs her zanjutsu training.

The extra space allows her to arc her zanpakuto higher and her foot work to go further around.

She’s never felt so free. The thought makes her stop. She lowers Tobiume to her side.

She’s been doing this for almost two weeks in secret. Why did she have to hide this? Wouldn’t it be encouraging for her subordinates to see her up like this?

The thought of her turning up to training gives her an unexpected anxiety. It comes with thoughts of unsure gazes and the dread that she would not be able to show them she was getting better. What if she slipped in her foot work? What if fatigue made her movements sluggish?

I can’t risk them knowing about this, she thinks. I’ll keep training, but…

One step at a time, master.

__________________________________

It's four days later when she makes way down to the Fifth Divison's library. It's the late hours of the night, when everyone is asleep. She takes a lantern with her and uses it to browse the shelves. There's no new books in the ficision section, but that hadn't been why she'd come down here.

She rounds the corner and ends up with the instructions and guides. She grabs the tomb she needs, then rushes back to her room. It of the kido spells, most of which she already knows. Still she studies the guide as if she were back in the Academy.

In the coming days, after she hones her zanjutsu skills in the early hours of the morning, she practices the hands movements and chants the incantations in her mind before breakfast. When she's certain she has memorized enough spells, she begins to study how they can be combined. She'd come up with combinations in the past, but she'll need stronger ones for the upcoming war.

She's caught out of bed practicing her hand movements and mouthing a chant by Isane almost a week later. An awkward silence passes between the two, and all Hinamori can do is sheepishly look at the tray Isane holds with her breakfast on it. Eventually, her fellow lieutenant smiles and says "You seem to be in good spirits, Hinamori-san."

After a bout of surprised laughter, Hinamori replies, "I, uh...I wanted to get back into the basics, I suppose. I'm not actually casting them of course!"

They go on to have a rather lively conversation about kido. Perhaps it's not as big a deal as Hinamori thought. If anything, it might show the Fourth Division's lieutenant that she's on the mend. Soon, she might be able to face her subordinates in one of their training sessions.

__________________________________

Doing all of this practice isn't enough to make her completely forget what happened, nor does it draw away the heaviness completely.

Even so, she feels stronger. No longer are her footsteps shaky and she can sleep through most nights. She's getting better, and it's a revelation she can't fully believe some days.

Her subordinates notice something is different about her. They visit more often, telling her about what's been happening in their personal lives, and she steps outside more often, even sitting in on one of Hirose's gardening groups.

Today, she watches them come and go in the courtyard, and she can tell the mood in the Division is shifting. The only strange thing is Genji seems to be attending more meetings in the afternoon.

She can't stop, she reaffirms to herself. She has to keep going. It's nearly the end of October; the war will be on the horizon soon.

__________________________________

“Good morning, Lieutenant.”

Hinamori can’t help but frown when her Tenth seat enters carrying her breakfast. “Imai-san.”

“Apologies, Isawa-san usually brings your meals on Friday morning, doesn’t he?”

Hinamori nods. “It’s not a problem. Is he unwell?”

Imai shakes her head and lays the tray across Hinamori’s lap. She notes two of her subordinate's red-painted nails are chipped. “He had to attend an emergency meeting.”

Hinamori���s eyes widen. “Has something happened?”

“No. He didn’t say much, but he mention that the advance team have returned.”

“Thank you, Imai-san.” Then, remembering. “And please thank whoever made this for me.”

“Of course, Lieutenant. Please enjoy.” After her Fourth seat leaves, Hinamori can barely eat with the butterflies in her stomach. Hitsugaya and the others have returned.

She casts out her senses, and sure enough, Hitsugaya’s reiatsu is there. Slightly more faint, shes sense Rangiku’s and Renji’s near him. If she had to guess, they’re all in First Division meeting hall.

Would they come visit?

Why would they?

Her shoulders deflate. After what happened, she wouldn’t blame Hitsugaya for being hesitant. Why has she even thought he would?

More importantly, why had they returned? Was their mission over? What had they discovered about the enemy? About these Arrancars? She’d only heard snippets and rumors spreading amongst her officers in their whispers and conversations they have while passing her room or below her window.

She munches on her breakfast, unable to cast the thoughts aside.

Later, Imai comes to collect her tray. She’s disappointed again when it’s Higuchi rather than Genji who serves her lunch to her. The day turns to sunset, and when there’s a knock, she can’t help but eagerly call out, “Come in!”

Sure enough, Genji has her dinner. “Good evening, Lieutenant Hinamori.”

“It’s good to see you Isawa-kun.”

He comes to the stand at her bedside, but doesn’t lay the tray down. “Sorry about this morning, I had to attend an emergency captain and lieutenant’s meeting.”

“Yes, Imai-san told me.”

Genji lowers the tray to her lap, and rather than make small talk or excuse himself to leave, he lingers at her bedside.

Hinamori isn't surprised by the awkward pause. Still, she had hoped she wouldn't need to prompt Genji. Had the Captain-Commander instructed Genji to not tell her what was discussed? Or was Genji simply concerned about the effect debriefing her would have?

Knowing him, it's the latter.

"Isawa-kun, whatever happened at the meeting, I want to know," she says, gently. "I am still a Lieutenant of the Gotei Thirteen, and if it concerns the Fifth Division, I wish to know. If you're not allowed to speak about it, however, I understand and I will consult with Lieutenant Sasakibe if I need to."

Genji frowns at the floor. After letting out a long, silent breath, his gaze reaches hers. "The Advance Team returned from the World of the Living. Captain Hitsugaya gave a full report on their battles in the World of the Living. These Arrancar, Lieutenant...they are strong."

Hinamori lips part at the news, unsure how to respond, but she nods for him to continue.

"They returned in light of a human, Inoue Orihime, is believed to have sided with the Arrancars."

"W-What?" Hinamori stammers out. Then, she recognises the name. "She was one of the Ryoka that tried to save Kuchiki-san. How do they know she has betrayed us?"

"She was training in the Soul Society only yesterday with Captain Ukitake and Kuchiki-san. Captain Ukitake was the last to see her before she vanished. However, she made it back to the World of Living, evidenced by her healing one of Kurosaki Ichigo's wounds while he was asleep."

Hinamori can only shake her head. This conflict had inspired acts of betrayal from all sides. Why would she do this?

Noticing Genji's hesitation, she decides to put the matter aside for now. “Go on, Isawa-kun. Is there something else?"

He nods, but doesn't continue right away. He loosk out her window, at the gatherings of officers in the courtyard, having either come back from missions or outings to the Rukongai. “We know who will be required to attend the battle against Captain Aizen and the Arrancars.”

Hinamori's hand flies to her throat when it involuntarily clamps up.

“It will only be captains and lieutenants. All ranks Third seat and below will remain in the Soul Society while the captains and lieutenants wait in the fake Karakura Town.”

“I-I see.” A thought occurs to her in horror. “That doesn’t mean you will have to be on the battlefield in my place, does it?”

“Ah, no! The Captain-Commander assured me that no one from Fifth Division is expected to be there.”

No one from Fifth Division should go with them, is what he really means she suspects. They could compromise the battle, serve only as a weakness to the Gotei Thirteen’s forces. She tries to ignore the tiny furl of bitterness in the pit of her stomach. Surely this order came from a place caring, too. “That’s a relief.”

Genji nods.

“And what did you mean by ‘fake Karakura Town’?”

“The Captain Commander wants all officers to fight at their full capacity. To avoid human causalities and any destruction to Karakura Town, Twelfth Division used Tenkai Kecchu to create a copy. The real Karakura Town will be transported to the edge of the Rukongai when the enemy is expected to make their move.”

She’s never heard of the technique. She’s about to ask what it is when Genji raises his hand.

“Please, Lieutenant, you should eat.” She wants to insist on knowing, but when his gaze falls to the ground, she notices how slumped his shoulders are. He’s weary, and likely feels guilty for having told her about the upcoming battle. “I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have burdened you with all of this, especially this late.”

Hinamori watches her Third seat for a moment longer, then takes up the chopsticks. “Thank you Isawa-kun. I appreciate that you told me this, and that you brought me dinner.”

Genji manages a faint smile before he bows and leaves without another word. Hinamori lets the chopsticks fall back to the tray and stares into space for so long her food gets cold by the time she remembers to eat it.

__________________________________

Hinamori can't get the plan out of her mind. It follows her in her training and even as she eats her meals. Did it mean the Captain-Commander foresaw the conflict happening sooner than expected? Or is he simply planning ahead to catch the enemy offguard?

She had brought it up with Isane on her latest visit, but her fellow Lieutenant couldn't offer much more than Genji had. Hinamori took some comfort in seeing she too was worried the conflict might be coming to them sooner than they'd hoped.

At night, Hinamori can't help but imagine the scenario before she shuts her eyes to try and sleep. The captains and lieutnenants facing Aizen, Ichimaru, Tosen, and the Arrancars. It meant her friends would be there. Izuru and Hisagi would have to stand on the same battlefield as the captains who they'd once served. No one from Fifth would be there to confront Aizen.

It's a relief none of her subordinates had to be involved, but that bitterness from her conversation with Genji always finds a way to influence her thoughts. Everyone on that battlefield will be expecting her to stay here, recovering from everything that's happened. They think she's at her weakest physically and mentally.

I've done little to show them otherwise, she thinks pitifully while practicing the hand movements for a kido net spell.

You still can, master, Tobiume tries to encourage.

How do you mean?

When Tobiume doesn't answer immediately, Hinamori halts her practice and waits. Her zanpakuto spirit's answer makes her frown.

You've been thinking about it, whether you've realised it or not.

__________________________________

It's two days later when Hinamori dreams of the fire. She’s alone with it again, and it's calmer than before. There is no threat, but still she steps into the flames.

She goes in facing it, letting it wash over her face first, then her torso, then her arms and legs. This time, she knows for certain these flames are hers and hers alone. Tobiume's voice echoes around her, saying too many things at once, but somehow Hinamori can understand it all.

This is where she should wake up, for a presence enters her space again. It's same one as last time, and she's terrified to turn and face him.

He won't leave unless I face him, she realises.

She looks to the flames around her, brushing over her limbs and whipping through her hair. She tries to take strength from them as she turns.

He stands on the other side, smiling. He reaches for her, but she steps back. The flames grow in intensity, whipping against the intruders hand. he doesn't flinch away, however. His hand remains hovering in the fire, and she can only watch as it starts to burn his flesh. He still smiles at her.

Not long after Hinamori opens her eyes, she cringes and grabs hold of Tobiume before marching towards the training grounds. Tobiume rages with her, the heat of her flames coursing through Hinamori's veins. Her slashes through the sky and attacks on a training dummy are harsh and brittle.

She's certain before she awoke her heart had been pulled in a violent tug of war between letting him burn or pushing his hand out of the flames to safety.

_________________________________

She returns to her room as the sun begins to rise. Tobiume is silent, but Hinamori can sense her presence in the back of her mind. It's as if she's waiting on something from her.

What is it, Tobiume? she asks.

Her zanpakuto's spirit says nothing still. She's usually quick to speak her mind, prompted or not.

Hearing an officer from down the hallway, she decides to leave it and quickly returns back to bed. Had they seen her just now?

She frowns when she dtects the officer's reiatsu and notices his footsteps are hurried. Genji runs past her door and down the stairs. She parts the curtains in time to see him rushing across the courtyard towards the Division's main entrance. A Hellbutterly follows in his wake.

Something has happened.

_________________________________

For the next hour, Hinamori alternates between pacing around her room and sitting and waiting for Genji to return. Anxious jitters thrum through her, threaten to break limbs out into quivers and shakes. She casts her senses out, but he's still in the First Division.

The sun has risen and most officers make their way to the mess hall for breakfast. No one is alarmed that Genji is not there, likely thinking he's either out running errands or getting breakfast elsehwhere.

They don't anticipate the news she already knows.

The war is here. She can sense it in the air, as though a lock had been snapped open, unable to hold back what it tried to contain. It’s in the way the reiatsu she can sense at First Division all waver, heightening and decreasing in intensity. It’s the only explanation she can think of.

 With a shaky breath, she stops in the middle of her room. How will she react with Genji gives her the news? How will her Division react? No doubt some will want to go out to the battlefield, but most, she thinks, will be tense. The outcome of this battle didn’t just determine the fate of the Worlds they protect. It was a battle against the captain they once followed, the man that betrayed them and left them shattered in their wake. A being powerful enough to fool everyone and leave the Soul Society unscathed.

She again replays the battlefield scenario in her mind. Her friends, zanpakuto drawn, staring down Aizen and his accomplices. They’ll get hurt, may not even come out of this alive. It’s an inevitability she faces every time any of them go to battle. It’s as much a part of her life as eating or breathing.

She returns to sitting on the edge of her bed. Her fingers dig in and clutch the fabric of her robes, white-knuckled. She’s expected to stay here while the fate of the Soul Society and her friends is decided. Her division is expected to stay out of the way, when their former captain is one leading an attack on them.

She thinks back to that day Nanao came to visit, when she had briefly wondered by she didn’t step outside of her room more often. She hadn’t wanted to give the thought any credence, but it had stuck itself to the back of her mind. On some level she sees the restrictions as an imposition,  as an attempt to keep her under watch. She had played along with it, remaining where she needed to be and doing as she was instructed. It was why the training she did in secret was so liberating.

She shakes her head. It was this sort of thinking that got her into the situation she was in now. She has no one to blame but herself for her past actions, and perhaps they were right to enact these restrictions for that reason.

But they are her actions.

He won't leave unless I face him.

She turns her head to her weapon, laying on to of her quilt. Tobiume, she beckons.

Her zanpakuto’s spirit makes her presence known in Hinamori’s mind, but says nothing.

“Is this what you meant?” she says. “That I have been thinking about ignoring everything to go and confront Captain Aizen?”

Tobiume again says nothing, but a flare of reiatsu comes from her blade. It’s as good as saying ‘yes’.

Hinamori lets out a long breath, as though finally getting something she had on her chest for months. It'd be reckless, no better than when she blindly followed Aizen's wishes when she thought him dead. How can she confront him?

With a grunt she forces the thought away. Her stomach roils and her heart thumps against her chest. She can’t stay here, waiting and hoping. She has to go to the fight. Had she not been training for this very moment?

There will be consequences, perhaps dire enough to ensure she is never a Shinigami ever again, but she can’t sit idly by. She has to face him. She doesn't want the pity of the captains and other lieutenants; she somehow has to show them she is strong enough to stand with them. That she too would do anything to protect her home.

She casts her gaze back to her subordinates. coming and going from the mess hall. Most seem content, but there's still grave expression and an air of somberness around them.

What good reason would he have to leave us behind?

"Tobiume," she says, and despite the steeliness of her voice, her heart flutters with uncertainty. "What I want to do is reckless."

It is.

"I don't know what will face me when I go there, or what will face me when I return, but I cannot stand by and let Captain Aizen hurt my friends and threaten the Soul Society." She bows her head to her zanpakuto. "I know I have put you through much these last two months, but please...will you fight with me now?"

Her zanpakuto's reaitsu flares, becoming a raging fire for a few seconds, as though she were giving a roar. Without question! I will aways fight alongside you.

_________________________________

She received her orders from a Hell butterfly before Genji returns. She is to stay in the Fifth Division and will be protected by her Fourth and Fifth seated officers. There's a wartime exception, allowing Shinigami to carry their zanpakuto, and to be alert for any unusual activity in the Seireitei.

Genji returns with similar orders hlf an hour later, and it sends the division into a frenzy. Officer race back to their barracks and spread the word to those bewildered by the sudden change.

Eventually, Genji arrives at her room, with their Fourth and Fifth seated officers in tow.

"There has been rapid developments after Kurosaki Ichigo invaded Hueco Mundo," he informs her, kneeling at her doorway with his head bowed. “The Captain-Commander has reason to believe that Cap – that Aizen will invade the World of the Living today at midday.”

The air is swept from Hinamori’s lungs in a gasp. How can it be so soon? She had thought it would be a day or more. She didn’t have much time to prepare.

Genji mistakes her apprehension for worry. “You’ll be safe here, Lieutenant. I’ll be coordinating everyone from here. We will be following the Captain-Commanders orders for our officers to be posted in the Rukongai in case the Arrancar somehow make it here. If they come into contact with Aizen, they are to not engage in battle with him.” He struggles to get the next sentences out. “Given that we were under the influence of his shikai, it means we are susceptible to fall…under an illusion. If he uses that on us…”

“Understood,” she says, not wanting to hear the rest. “Thank you, Isawa-kun. I'll stay here.”

After Genji leaves and she thanks her Fifth and Fourth seats, Hinamori shuts her door. She swallows back the bile that rose from lying to Genji and her officers. She’s slow to move to the centre of her room. Despite the shock of it, she is not deterred by the information Genji provided; this is only a setback she needs to overcome.

She only has three hours to come up with a plan. Her only exit is either her window or her balcony. Most of her subordinates would be dispatched to the Rukongai within the hour, and there would be just under a hundred still in the barracks based on what Genji showed her last month.

She wont be able to convince the officers posted at her door to let her go outside, and refuses to use hakufuku on anyone. If she escape and uses a concealment kido, she could bypass most officers and find an isolated area to create a senkaimon. Where would be isolated in a time like this? What concealment spell would work best and not leave a trance until she's long gone? Who are the biggest threats to her plan? She winces at how much this mindset reminds her of when she planned to escape the cell and confront Hitsugaya months ago.

Without realising, she turns her head to the figurines on her shelf. The boy and the girl continue to smile at her, but she cannot return it. Hitsugaya will be at the battle. What will he think? He'll lecture her after the battle, obviously; perhaps tell her how foolish her actions are ad not speak to her for some days. But maybe, he'd understand. Like her, he too is dedicated to his occupation and the protection of Soul Society and it's residents. Despite his perchant for following code of conduct and laws of the Soul Society, she could imagine him doing something similar to her if he were in her place. Hadn't he done so only a few months ago?

You came to help me, she thinks. Even when I wouldn't listen to you and didn't want to believe what you were saying, you came to help me. Perhaps now, I can come to help you. Other Shinigami come to mind, friends and subordinates. I want to help all of you too, as you have done for me.

Joining the simmering anger is a determination strong enough to rid her of the anxious jitters and hone her focus on forming a coherant plan.

________________________________

She stares at her reflection, having just finish tying her ribbon over her hair cloth. She has looked like this in months, it’s as if she’s staring at a ghost. The bags under her eyes are gone at least, and despite appearance, she is not the same Soul who once wore the same clothes and accessories. When she returns from this battle, she’ll have changed again. Hopefully for the

Stepping out the bathroom, she glances at her lieutenant’s badge lying on her chest of drawers. When she picks it up, there a weight to it that hadn’t previously been there. She ties it around her arm with reverence. Despite what she’s about to do, she vows she will honour this position on the battlefield.

Strapping Tobiume to her hip, she then summons for a Hellbutterfly. While waiting for the creature, casts her senses out. In line with Genji’s information, the captains and lieutenants gather at fifteen minutes to midday together at the central Senkaimon. Their reiatsu gradually vanish one by one as they pass through the gateway.

I’ll be seeing you soon. Despite the anxiety and steely determination running through her, she can’t help but smile at the thought.

The Hell butterfly flies through her open window. The curtains flutter around it and behind the branches of the trees in the courtyard sway too and fro. The Hell butterfly lands on her shoulder, and she leans forward closes the window.

After the last captains goes through the Senkaimon, she waits. In that time, she stares at the books Aizen gave her, at the sketchbooks will with drawings of him, and at her reflection in the window.

I will face you, she vows, schooling her expression to one of stern resolve. You are a traitor to the Soul Society, an enemy to all the Worlds.

After fifteen minutes, she takes in a long breath, and at the exhale, she raises her hands. This is it.

 I will show you that you do not affect me or the Fifth Division anymore.

She’ll only have a minute at most before her Fourth and Fifth seat realise she’s not in her room. She whispers the incantation for a high-level concealment kido. Before she even utters the last word, she walks to the door to her balcony. Her limbs thrum with anticipation and nerves as she slides it aside quietly.

Then, she leaps up to the railing and bolts off, flying through the air, her gaze on the sky high above. Before her feet touch the ground, Tobiume's flames heat her blood, ready for battle, and her heart soars with a determination that surpasses any shame she has for escaping like this.

But then, the memory of Hitsugaya in the World of the Living comes to mind. She’d ask him not to kill Aizen. Sorrow briefly pricks at her heart. Forgive me, Hitsugaya-kun she thinks, feet only a few meters from the dirt..

As soon as she lands, she sprints in the directions of a training ground in the woods. Everything passes her in a blur.

I’ll show you and everyone else I’m better now.

_____________________________

Next chapter >>

[ghosttoastx]

Bituín Character Lore Stuff

gonna try my best to sum up as much as I can about them under the cut :3

∘₊✧The Hermit✧₊∘

Name: Bituín (Bits)

Pronouns: She/They

Age: 16

Birthday: April 21

Craft: Paper

Weapon: Pointy Umbrella

Armor: Moth Clip

Background:

A shut-in recluse from one of the Houses of Jouvente, on a journey across Vougarde, accompanying their best friend along the way.

Personality:

- Very socially awkward with terrible communication skills,

- Oftentimes stay quiet around people she is unfamiliar with

- Likes poking fun at and making lighthearted jabs towards the people she's comfortable around

- Can be a bit sarcastic at times

- Always two seconds away from a psychotic break/hj

More Lore important Facts:

- Due too bad anxiety, Bits has always had a difficult time interacting with people, leaving her to spend most of her time locked away in her dorm room at the House of change.

- Bits’ father has been missing since she was about 4 or 5. Bits was too young at the time to really understand when they had disappeared, but her mother was wracked with grief over a person she didn’t even know ever existed in the first place. 

- the disappearance of her Husband drove bits mom a little coo-coo-bananas, causing a strange relationship to form between her and Bits

- One night when bits is about 10 or 11, her mother tells her is a manic, possibly drunken frenzy that she was going to be leaving, in search of something. She wanted to bring bits with her originally, but inevitably decided it’d be safer to just up and leave bits alone in the House. 

- bits would often spend time either cooped up in their lonely dorm, or would be hanging out with her friend and/or his family (probably for like, holidays and diner and stuff)

- while out on this pilgrimage/journey or whatever through Vougarde, Bits is hoping that maybe, just maybe, she might find her mother again. For better or for worse

Miscellaneous Facts:

-Can’t cook for shit

- Has an interest in plants and flora

- The claw clip in their hair is based off of a Luna Moth

- Likes to study craft (because of this, she is also know how to deal weak scissor damage)

- Grew up in one of the Houses of Change in Jouvente due to their mother being a Housemaiden there

- Bits speaks animatedly with their hands

- Favorite foods are Chocolate lava cake, Pineapple bread pudding, and Plain rice

- Bits isn't quite sure of the origins of the necklace she likes to wear, but looking at it makes her head hurt and her heart ache...

- Height is 5’8 (172 cm I think??)

- likes books and reading (specifically stories with found family and and fantasy)

Miscellaneous Art/doodles:

(these next two are technically from the PartySwap au but they're still just a younger version of Bits so)

okokok I think I've compiled most of the important stuff :D!!

Please please please feel free to ask me about my OCs!! I want to talk more about themmmm!!!!!

[seraphic-sibyl]

I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been born a frog. I should have been

[flurry-of-stars]

︵‿︵‿୨✩୧‿︵‿︵

*taps microphone* New chapter for These Hollow Halls coming soon--

[kevinsbitch-panini]

fanfic friday: aftg edition

Mug Diplomacy by DragonCat223 (@dragoncat223)

Summary: Jean is using mugs the way the Chinese government uses pandas, but Jean has something the Chinese Government does not: A sense of humor. Aka 2100 words of Kevin being the dramatic bitch he was born to be, followed by 1200 words of Jeremy being confused.

Tags: post tsc, Post-Canon, Fluff, i think, Kevin being dramatic, but that’s not new, Jean is enjoying his ceramics class, Minor spoilers for tsc, Jeremy desperately wants to solve the mystery of the disappearing mugs, no beta we die like men, NOW WITH EDITS

Words: 3,453 Chapters: 2/2

y'all this is the shit i live for. you had neil josten being a little shit? well turn your eyes to Jean Moreau, Little Shit Extraordinaire. also kevin is a Dramatic Bitch in this as well so really it's just amazing. anyways, jean gets into mug-making and kevin gets jealous, bless his dramatic little heart <3 (also the summary didn't make sense to me but the chinese government features a lot less in this fic than the summary implies)

check out the writer's tumblr and ao3 (both linked above) <3

[tiffanylamps]

totally didn't notice until now, but it's been a year since i published my first beyond evil fic. i have mixed feelings about it but i still appreciate that story because it was the first piece of writing (that wasn't poetry) that I had completed in a number of years, and it felt like a huge achievement at the time

[smoreal]

This is SUPER rushed and semi-edited, but I wrote it in a frenzy bc I just couldn’t stop thinking about sonic movie 3 lmao… so beware?? It’s pretty lengthy lol

(Also sorry in advance bc I might get into a horrible habit of writing a bunch of these)

What the rating for sonic movie 3 could mean for the narrative and which direction the movie could go depending on the rating…

The rating changed from shth05 from the usual ‘E’ (Everyone) to ‘E 10+’ (Everyone 10 and Older), meaning that they were a little more liberated to go into detail about his past and his memories with Maria before she was killed on the Ark. The game further expanded on the darker and more ‘gritty’ perspective of Shadow the Hedgehog. Before it’s release though, shth was meant to be rated T (13 and older) with the initial version containing ‘red blood, violent scenes, and more instances of cursing.’ [(X) and (X)]

Sonic Movie 3 is currently slated for release in December of 2024 (x), but word from the directors and screenwriters have many concerned over how faithful to the games this movie will be because of Maria’s death scene. As well as wanting an accurate portrayal of Shadow the hedgehog for the first time since, debatably his portrayal in Sonic 06, fans look forward to seeing his backstory on the big screen.

Media ratings from the early 2000s were vastly different from the ratings of today. A subtle joke about sex would surely fly over children’s heads and could be aired on a Saturday morning cartoon, but no such thing could happen under today’s scrutinized media.

All of this to say… will Maria Robotnik be shot and killed on screen by an organization mirroring the government? There could be many different routes this option could take, and I list them now:

1.) PG/Heavily Implied Route

2.) PG-13/Realistically pull some punches

3.) Change the narrative completely

I start with what I believe to be the most probable option, based on the creators and writers desire to “incorporate elements from Sonic Adventure 2 and Shadow the Hedgehog.” (X)

Option 1: PG Route. As previously stated within its title, I’m certain of this route because of the options ability to stay within the PG rating and keep the narrative faithful to the games by letting the audience imply, as SA2 and Sonic X has done in the past. Disappointing as this option may be, it manages to stay within the established rating of the movie franchise and continue to stick with the games’ plot. However, a massive problem arises; how to imply such a disturbing and gruesome, but vital event whilst staying within these (frankly restrictive) ratings. I emphasize on the previously used ‘disappointment,’ as the implication may be lost on the general audience and with this loss, comes the loss of the overall theme of organizational workings and the very blunt reality of corrupt military organizations within our society.

And to stay true to both games, I introduce the second (subjectively best) option.

Option 2: Raising the rating from PG to PG-13. With this option, I believe the writers and directors can expand on the potential of both games and re-establish Shadow to his former glory, a character who once had concrete values and beliefs. Knuckles was able to regain his initially established honor and dignity within the latest installment of the movie franchise, as his character (like everyone else’s) had been the victim of flanderization and had been molded to fit more of a Comedic Relief character instead of a nuanced, three dimensional character.

With this new rating, creators have the space to expand on Shadow’s character, more specifically his morals and dilemma therein. In being able to see Maria’s death, and see Shadow at his most violent, the audience gets to understand or even empathize further with his character. An additional benefit to this rating change could be the general audience’s view on Sonic the Hedgehog as an overall franchise. It could inspire the Sonic gaming franchise to potentially follow up on lost possibilities of older games (wishful thinking) or create more nuanced and complex storylines such as what came of SA2.

Option 3: Changing the narrative completely. Objectively the worst option for both the audience and the writers/creators, this option has the writers/creators completely erasing Maria’s death and the corruption of (military) organizations to stay safely within the PG rating. In erasing Maria’s death, Shadow and, his creator, Gerald Robotnik would be stripped of their motivations for vengeance. However with this option, there are also two possible sub-options.

3A.) Maria still dies, not by anyone’s hand, but by her own illness, perhaps during the Raid on the Ark, causing a miscommunication to occur.

3B.) Maria does not exist.

As infuriating as both of these options are, they are very well options that could become Sonic Movie 3’s reality.

For option 3A, Maria dying by her illness would still create motivations for Shadow and Gerald, as the Raid would have ruined all of their work and the blame of GUN would be significantly less than in the original games. Perhaps this option could be better constructed, using the miscommunication to create even more conflict with both Shadow and Gerald Robotnik’s motivations, and Shadow’s final motivations in the game.

However, the worst option of the worst option is 3B. In erasing Maria’s character, Shadow’s very soul and Gerald’s strongest motivator goes with her. Shadow’s character, motivations, and actions all lack a significant reason and he becomes more of an Android than a tragic, empathetic, 3-dimensional character. Gerald Robotnik would become a descendant of Eggman who is just as selfish and egotistical (further taking Eggman’s potential to be seen as someone who strived to do Good as the original Gerald Robotnik did before Maria’s death, but let me get back on track)

With Maria’s erasure, Shadow’s character and Gerald’s reasons become corrupt. Both characters become forgettable and, worst of all, stray the farthest away from the source material, ultimately dooming the movie and possibly the franchise.

Both Sonic movies have done a lot for Sonic as a gaming franchise, and seeing the success of both franchises within the same year is very promising for the Blue Blur. As happy as I’d be to see a rating change, I must stress that I’d be content with whatever they decide to do. They’ve already expressed the want to stay faithful to the source material and we’ve managed to get two successful movies so far, so I’d say we’re in semi?? safe hands from a general audience standpoint.

[ktempestbradford]

I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me

It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:

At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.

On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."

Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:

But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:

It gets worse.

"Tempest, how could it possibly--"

source of this video that also includes this charming description:

Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'

There is already a meme.

Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:

Who has already done an interview!

As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!

Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.

The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.

Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!

I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.

Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:

I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.

Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:

Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.

Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.

Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.

I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.

This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.

Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:

With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"

"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:

There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.

The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.

Even better, this weirdly grainy image?

From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.

If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.

As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.

And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...

This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.

Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.

As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...

Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.

You cannot make this stuff up.

But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.

Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.

HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.

[xinganhao]

🙇‍♂️ svt when you get jealous.

anon → "Could I request SVT reaction to you being jealous? 👀?"

⌗ ┆love a flip of a good trope d(･∀･○) pls note that the ff. members feature manips/edits, so credits go to the rightful owners: jeonghan, joshua, soonyoung, wonwoo

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: f!reader, established relationship, pet names, jealousy 🤭, fluff/crack/etc., [short] headcanons under the cut.

🙇‍♂️ headcanons .ᐟ

— "oh, boy, here we go again" ✩ junhui, wonwoo, mingyu, seungkwan, chan.

anyone dating junhui or mingyu have got to be god's strongest soldiers. both boys would be a little exasperated at your jealousy but they also react to it in their own ways. junhui, for his part, will always crack in the end. he may goad you about all his romance scenes but he's quick to switch up when he thinks he's gone too far. mingyu, on the other hand, focuses on making you realize how ridiculous you are for the (mostly) unfounded jealousy. when that doesn't work, he'll try to distract you with something else. it's not often that you get jealous if you're dating wonwoo— if anything, you might be envious about all the time he spends on his games. when it comes to people, though? he's not about to tolerate you thinking that way. he'll shoot you down quicker than any other member does with his. no pickup lines or pleasantries, here; just the straight truth. seungkwan's reassurances are just a little more on the teasing side but they're never any less sincere. he's the type to be very conscious about not giving you a reason to be jealous in the first place. meanwhile, chan may sometimes be a little more on the clueless side, though he'll always get there eventually. does he joke around about it? most definitely. will he be on your doorstep to pick a (playful) about your jealousy until you can do nothing but succumb to his charm? also yes.

— "so help me, god" ✩ jeonghan, soonyoung, jihoon, vernon.

jihoon would be at an absolute loss™️ in the face of your jealousy. it's a rare thing, for you to be envious of anything outside of the time he spends on work, so he will try to tread lightly. the way he fumbles about attempting to reassure you is endearing enough for you to forget what you were so upset about in the first place. jeonghan is one of the rare ones who would try to incite your jealousy; what can he say? he likes poking the bear sometimes. but he's also the image of someone who can dish it but can't take it. if he's met with your petulance, he'll fall on his knees in any/all attempt to get back in your good graces. soonyoung's plenty oblivious when it comes to what might make you jealous. you can expect him to pull out the pout and puppy dog eyes when trying to convince you not to be upset. and, oh– vernon is oblivious to the point where it's almost painful. he won't get that someone's into him until you point it out. when you do, though, he'll do everything in his power to allay your concerns.

— "you're the only one" ✩ seungcheol, joshua, seokmin, minghao.

minghao comes from a family where his parents only have eyes for each other, so it makes sense for him to also be the same. reassurance comes easy for him; he'll never joke about your feelings and he'll talk you through it, even. at any given chance, he makes it abundantly clear that he's spoken for. there's no hiding from joshua, either. he's too perceptive for his own good and he'll know if you're jealous, even if you try to hide it. he never blames you for how you're feeling and his focus is on how he can avoid making you feel that way on the future. seungcheol is the type who'd be a little endeared, even, that you get jealous. he likes it if his partner is a little possessive and territorial. you can tell that he's smug about it, though ultimately he'll play in to your little charade. seokmin, on the flipside, is a big believer of nipping things in the bud. if he thinks anything might make you jealous, he's already keeping you from overthinking before it can start. he's not going to have you questioning yourself; not on his watch.

[queenendless]

💀🎃👻Spooky Greetings👻🎃💀

A/n: This literally came to mind when I saw something similar in the actual game event. First time posting twst content here. This may get a sequel. Gonna try to post variety spooky content here cause HAPPY OCTOBER YALL!

SPOILERS for the new Halloween game event going on, somewhat. Also, a bit of Skully x fem!reader and implied fem!reader x the twst bois shown/tagged down below. Short Harem drama, kinda. Not much. But I think it ain't half bad.

*DON'T STEAL, COPY, EDIT, REPOST AND TRANSLATE MY FANFIC WORK. REBLOG, LIKE, FOLLOW PLS N THNX.*

“Hello, my lovely~”

The moment this new strapping figure — “Skully J. Graves at your service~” — appeared holding you in his arms as you awoke, you were awestruck at the spooky strapping young man.

After introducing all of yourselves, watching him kiss the hand of your schoolmates was amusing; seeing their appalled expressions. Guessing they don't get that brand of greeting often, huh?

Him kissing Grim's cheek had his fur stand on end to your delight.

And yet?

The moment he took your hand — only to pull you in and kiss you smack dab on the lips?

You felt the fires of envy and hate turn ablaze as the various pairs of eyes glowed outrageously.

Many hands, gloved or not, snatched him off you.

And all hell broke loose.

“Get your grubby hands off my beloved, you cretin!” Riddle turned red even his paled up Gothic aesthetic; Trey holding the struggling boy back in his arms.

“He means MY herbivore, skeletal bastard.” Leona growled in Skully’s face as he grabbed his collar.

“On the contrary, MY angel isn't up for auction when it comes to kisses from mere worms.” Azul's irked smile gave off unpleasantness.

“Oho? That doesn't seem to be the case, surely.” Jade jested to his boss's ire.

“MY jewel’s already doing so, octo pimp. That goes for you too, street rat.” Jamil hissed them both back and forth.

“Have you no manners of consent, you mongrel? Besides, my darling Y/n has better taste than you all. Me, for example.” Vil flaunted in the others irked faces; Epel looked just about done at this point.

“Don't you dare take away my Otaku goddess, you noob!” Idia gripped dramatically to the others nuisance. 

“How dare you lay a finger on my beloved human.” Malleus spoke doom.

The air around them crackled with literal lightning as emerald flames had his hands full.

“My future Queen … prepare yourself … FOR HELL.”

“WAKA-SAMA!” Sebek switched to fanboy mode at his God's might.

“For once, we're on the same page.” Leona's smirk sent his way spoke volumes as he dropped Skully before the dragon prince.

“TSUNATARO, STAND DOWN! ALL OF YOU, PLEASE!” You got in the way to defend the new anime boy from the others' united wrath, especially Malleus's. “One kiss is not that big of a deal.”

You could hear a pin drop now as everyone, even Skully, viewed you as if you had two heads.

“Good grief. Ya sure you're not magical? Cause you're bewitching them into lovestruck fools. And you're not dating any of ‘em. God, you're an idiot.” Grim griped.

Leona, Jamil, and Sebek appeared as glowing eyed phantom monsters ready for the kill. “YOU'RE ONE TO TALK, FUR BALL!!!”

Yet Skully looked unperturbed, his charming toothed smile arised, as Grim got chased by three SSR dressed pissed off mages. “Oya oya … What a lively bunch, you all are. And all because I took a kiss from your sweet lips, lovely Y/n. But if you are single, then may I ask you out?”

“NO!!!” All the former overblot cases now turned bachelors for your token affections shouted in unison.

Trey, Jade and Epel and you hung your head in exasperation.

Ah, quite the Harem dilemma.

Halloween coated, no less.

[astonmartinii]

knives out | lewis hamilton social media au

pairing: lewis hamilton x rosberg!reader

2016 saw the murder of brocedes right before our very eyes, but who got y/n in the will?

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

- part of the brother's best friend series -

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 751,209 others

tagged: nicorosberg

yourusername: back in barcelona! nothing has ever happened here, right? RIGHT?

view all comments

user1: when i'm in a victim of brocedes contest and y/n rosberg turns up

user2: nico was like "oh, lewis has had a good qualifying... here comes the curse"

user3: he's the hater we should all aspire to be

nicorosberg: barcelona is a beautiful place but you should pick your company well!

yourusername: great advice nico, i should've left you at home

nicorosberg: snore! i'm great company you just can't keep up with my great personality and wit

yourusername: what ever you need to tell yourself old man

nicorosberg: i'm two years older than you?

yourusername: how was the industrial revolution?

user4: i hope they never grow up and always argue in public

user5: omg the argument on sky about lewis v seb in canada... and jenson just stood there with the biggest shit-eating grin ever

lewishamilton: my trauma is not your joke

yourusername: it was my trauma too i was the one who had to listen to him complain for the next TWO WEEKS

lewishamilton: trying to find where i care...

yourusername: you complained first ??

lewishamilton: rightly so!

yourusername: do not tussle with me about this, by now i thought you'd know that us rosbergs don't play about complaining

lewishamilton: believe me my therapist knows that

user6: i know nico sat on his hands forcing himself not to comment back

user7: alternatively, celebrating that he still lives in lewis' head

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, charles_leclerc and 2,305,899 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: @yourusername i may love you but if that man ever takes a picture of my car i'm putting a hit on his head

view all comments

user11: we got a relationship reveal and a death threat all in one post

user12: lewis saw yall ready to make a brocedes edit using this race and made sure you knew that he doesn't care about a his old haunts

user13: he was like yall shipping me with the wrong rosberg

yourusername: let's refrain from threats for now

lewishamilton: we're gonna have to get rid of that last name, no more curses

nicorosberg: RIGHT THAT IS IT IF YOU DARE GET MARRIED DOUBLE-BARRELLED OR ELSE, ROSBERGS ARE ELITE AND YOU WISH YOU HAD THIS NAME

yourusername: he does have a point

lewishamilton: i'm for real going to lose my mind that we haven't spoken in years and this is where he drew the line

nicorosberg: you told the world you're dating my sister at the same time as me

lewishamilton: stop cursing me then 🤨

nicorosberg: i don't curse you my devilish good looks just sent your engine into cardiac arrest

user14: i know toto wolff just fell to his knees in the mercedes garage seeing them bicker in instagram comments after making merc a literal warzone for years

user15: and yet this is the most brocedes way to go about it

georgerussell63: even if you're dating his sister, i'm still your favourite teammate right?

yourusername: valterri exists buddy soz

georgerussell63: *clutches my pearls*

lewishamilton: and that is exactly why valterri is my favourite teammate

georgerussell63: whatever 💁🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc: not for long xx

yourusername: whoever can bring me the best coffee can get the crown?

lewishamilton: stop exploiting my teammate and future teammate

yourusername: that's what they're there for?

yourusername

liked by nicorosberg, maxverstappen1 and 823,087 others

tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername: anything happen this week?

view all comments

user19: y/n ruining her brother's week - anything happen this week?

user20: more like year

nicorosberg: more like life

yourusername: drama queen

nicorosberg: as i should be !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

yourusername: got enough exclamation marks in there buddy

nicorosberg: no open the door i need to scream directly in your ears

yourusername: if it's any consolation, the relationship started after 2016

nicorosberg: so he got me out of the way so he could go for my little sister 🤨

lewishamilton: yep!

nicorosberg: no i'm serious let me in i need to yell

nicorosberg: I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE I CAN HEAR ROSCOE

nicorosberg: fine i'll just abseil from my apartment give me a sec

user21: y/n please let him in he's so serious about that i can feel it

user22: anyone from monaco here and want to keep us updated?

danielricciardo: Y/N LET HIM IN HE NEARLY KICKED MY POTTED PLANT OFF THE BALCONY

yourusername: lol

danielricciardo: THIS IS NOT A LAUGHING MATTER PLEASE

lewishamilton: fine, you people are such bores

nicorosberg: i nearly lost a birkenstock

yourusername: and my inheritance nearly doubled

lewishamilton: *our

user23: i think lewis is having way too much fun with this

nicorosberg

liked by lewishamilton, jensonbutton and 692,889 others

tagged: yourusername

nicorosberg: we're back at the track and i've got a sneaking feeling that the red bull might be fast around here

view all comments

user24: nico said babe won't catch me posting lewis on my instagram

maxverstappen1: sure thing buddy he's dating your sister, but there's NO NEED TO TAKE IT OUT ON ME

nicorosberg: i said you're going to win?

maxverstappen1: i DON'T NEED YOUR BAD JUJU GIVE IT TO LEWIS HE'S THE ONE YOU'RE ANGRY AT NOT ME

nicorosberg: i'm not angry at lewis

lewishamilton: really?

nicorosberg: OF COURSE NOT

yourusername: he'll get over it soon lewis don't worry

lewishamilton: really? he's still holding a grudge from 2016 - that was EIGHT YEARS AGO

yourusername: yeah sorry that's a rosberg trait ❤️

user25: not the grid becoming victims of the brocedes fall out eight years later

yourusername: you're so shady why did you crop lewis out?

nicorosberg: outfit wasn't on par with the rosbergs

yourusername: oh no

lewishamilton: HOW DARE YOU

yourusername: you queens can take this out on each other i'm not getting involved in this one

lewishamilton: i know this birkenstock wearing primadonna is not dissing my custom mcqueen

nicorosberg: it's custom because no one would want something so ugly 🫶🏻

user26: someone take nico off the parc ferme interviews lewis might just run him over

user27: he should just let roscoe at his ankles

nicorosberg: that vegan dog can't do shit to me

yourusername: leave the kids out of it nico

nicorosberg: you birthed that? my condolences to your reproductive system

lewishamilton: DO NOT FAT SHAME MY SON

roscoelovescoco: kill yourself @nicorosberg

user28: WTF IS GOING ON

lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, kimiantonelli and 2,844,599 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: he may have won the battle, but i won the war

view all comments

user29: bro you're going to be subjected to boho chic Christmases for the rest of your life

user30: guy is going to get poisoned via christmas nut roast by nico 😭

yourusername: this is corny but i love you

lewishamilton: i love you too i'm going to pretend you didn't just call my super thought out caption corny

yourusername: it was corny and that's what i love about you

nicorosberg: you need better standards

yourusername: for someone who had so much homoerotic tension with the man that you retired you're being very rude about the subject of such tension

nicorosberg: that's not how that went

yourusername: sure, jan

nicorosberg: stop trying to rewrite history

yourusername: i saw it with my own two eyes... are you jealous that i ended up with lewis instead of you?

nicorosberg: nO

user31: i feel like this is definitely not the argument i thought i would see on the internet today

user32: lewis hamilton got passed around the rosberg house ... this your goat?

user33: both rosbergs are hawt as hell so yes!

charles_leclerc: oh great, keep stoking the flames lewis! if you invoke his wrath upon ferrari next season i will personally sacrifice you to the gods

lewishamilton: excuse me?

charles_leclerc: i don't know if you know this but i kinda don't have a world championship yet ... I DO NOT WANT THE ROSBERG CURSE ATTACHED TO ME

lewishamilton: do not minimise my trauma charles

charles_leclerc: you haven't joined ferrari yet, you don't know trauma. be nice to him, i can't finish my career with max having more championships than me

maxverstappen1: skill issue

user34: do these people ever stop arguing?

yourusername: no! and i can assure you it's worse in person

user35: worst brocedes tussle since nico found out?

yourusername: i was making a list of people to invite to my birthday dinner and nico was angry that i wrote lewis' name before his

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton and 1,304,277 others

tagged: lewishamilton, nicorosberg

yourusername: still a victim of the brocedes nuclear fallout all these years later

view all comments

user37: bro nearly lost her bf to her brother

user38: lewis couldn't have nico and went for his sister instead

user39: insert larry stylinson theory here that y/n is just the beard and toto wolff is simon cowell

yourusername: i'm blocking all of you

nicorosberg: still yapping about this ... and i'm the dramatic one

yourusername: babe we can all see all of your comments on previous posts where you're the literal definition of crashing out

nicorosberg: BARCELONA WAS LEWIS' FAULT WE ALL KNOW THIS

yourusername: when did i bring up barcelona... you just proved my point IDIOT

nicorosberg: make me sound insane all you want ... TOTO IS THE REAL VILLAIN HERE

yourusername: ???

nicorosberg: he notebooked us

yourusername: riiiiiiiiiiight

nicorosberg: i wrote lewis a letter when i retired and toto never gave it to him

yourusername: you're telling me i had to hide my relationship for so long because you trusted that austrian big foot fraud to be your messenger pigeon ?

user40: did we just get insane brocedes lore on a random tuesday?

user41: you're telling me it was toto's fault the whole time?

lewishamilton: well yes it would've been helpful to have gotten the letter, you have to admit the sneeking around was hot

yourusername: you're right 🤭🤭🤭

lewishamilton: hiding in your bathroom while nico came over to bitch about me was a personal highlight

nicorosberg: excuse me?

lewishamilton: i know we're trying to be better, so here's a compliment: you're very creative when being mean about me

nicorosberg: why thank you 😝

yourusername: nuh uh we ain't doing this shit

lewishamilton: don't worry y/n you'll always be my favourite

nicorosberg: but you'll never have our trip to greece :P

yourusername: i will strangle you britney

user42: y/n got brocedes to talk again, but at what cost?

lewishamilton

liked by nicorosberg, charles_leclerc and 4,677,309 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: got y/n's hand in marriage in the will (after i murdered her brother's career)

view all comments

user43: y/n can't escape brocedes even on her engagement post

user44: she (and them) will never get rid of it

yourusername: i love you baby, here's to the rest of our life (even if that includes you arguing with my brother for the rest of time)

lewishamilton: i love you even more, i'd go through all of that psychological warfare again and again if it means i still end up with you

yourusername: we've always had an invisible string

lewishamilton: and there's no one else i'd want to be cosmically tied to <3

user45: i might cry they're so cute

user46: that comment thread called me single in about 100 different languages

charles_leclerc: congratulations you two! also congratulations to me - no more rosberg curse!

yourusername: really? on this POST?

charles_leclerc: hold on girlypop, it was mr hamilton-rosberg that brought up your brother first not me

lewishamilton: you better get all this attitude out now charles

charles_leclerc: what? you gonna marry my brother?

yourusername: lol i'm not threatened by them

arthurleclerc: why am i being shaded?

user47: 2025 HURRY THE FUCK UP

nicorosberg: i guess you're finally getting the rosberg name you've always wanted ...

lewishamilton: yes... i have always had a crush on your sister

nicorosberg: GASP! PERVERT 🫵🏻 i have known you since we were 12 you GROSS MAN

lewishamilton: WELL YES I WAS ALSO 12 I'VE NOT ALWAYS BEEN 36 MORON

yourusername: well doesn't this just get me excited for christmas

user48: i know a monopoly board hate to see these three coming

yourusername: @nicorosberg can i have an actual congratulations???

nicorosberg: i'm happy for you, i'm glad you're happy (also he's loaded so slay)

yourusername: i'll take it!

lewishamilton: sure whatever thanks nico !

fin.

note: lol finally finished this one! i have been very in and out on here, i have a lot going on x

[beomcoups]

Legal Briefs

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lawyer!Dokyeom x fem!reader 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: pwp, corporate au, 18+, non-idol au 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, riding, unprotected sex, cream pie, pet names, slight exhibitionism, oral (m. receiving), clit stimulation, squirting 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.1k 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Dokyeom is stressed out over his case, and you use your brain in more ways than one to help him relax.

AN: Thank you to @miabebe for beta reading this for me at the last minute and @miniseokminnies being lovely. This is a repost, as this fic was originally written for another idol. I have decided to edit it and make it fit Dokyeom more. I hope you enjoy it <3. Also, tagging @onlyseokmins because that's your man, duh, lol. If you want to be tagged in future fics, sign up here🤎

Dokyeom is one of the most prominent corporate lawyers in your country, and you understand how hard he works daily to maintain that reputation. You were a lawyer when you met him, so you know the ins and outs of the legalities and how stressful it can be defending clients. Your first time seeing him was at a kickboxing gym you both frequented and then on the opposite end of the court, duking it out to protect your clients involved in a breach of contract. You may have won that battle, but in the end, Dokyeom won your heart, and you left the corporate life behind to be a housewife. 

You walk into the swanky thirty-floor office building, and the security guard greets you as you approach the elevator. You are holding Dokyeom’s favorite lunch, pizza with cheese sticks, secured in a heated lunch box. You also brought fruit and juice, which he has been into lately. It’s a nice day outside, and what would be better than spending lunch with your husband?

You hum your way up to the 20th floor, greeted by the receptionists as the elevator doors open. The anticipation is building, and the excitement and butterflies in your stomach are brewing as you make your way to his office. You speak to everyone that makes eye contact with you. Everyone knows you as the boss’s wife, a hotshot lawyer, giving it all up for love. 

“Hi,” his secretary greets you nervously as you approach her desk. “He seems a bit stressed out today. That case with the pharmaceutical company isn’t going well, and I’m pretty sure I heard papers flying around.”

This concerns you, as it is different from Dokyeom to lose his cool like that. You thank her and tap quietly on the office door, waiting to hear his voice before entering. 

“Yes?” His smooth voice makes your heart jump. 

You open the door, and your eyes widen at the scene before you. There are papers and folders all over the floor. Dokyeom is lying on the sofa, his suit jacket covering his face and his arms folded on his chest.

“I take it you’re having a bad day?” You ask gently, setting the lunch down on his desk.

His face lights up when he lays his eyes on you, jacket falling to the floor as he jumps up to greet you. 

“I wasn’t expecting you here,” he replies before getting up and kissing your cheek. “I would’ve cleaned up.”  

“And miss all this drama?” you tease him. “Come on, I’ll help you put everything back.”

You survey the papers and put the files back in their folders. You know where everything goes because you helped him set up his file system to make his life easier. You may not be practicing law right now, but it doesn’t mean you haven’t had to use your expertise a few times to help your husband win a few cases. You initially quit your previous firm because you felt burnt out and needed a break. Then, when you got married, you wanted to spend time being a new wife and try for a family. Dokyeom supported you in all of that. He never made you feel inferior or less than for stepping away from your career to be at home. Now, it’s been two years, and the children haven’t come yet, but maybe it’s just not time, as lately, you have been missing practicing law.

Dokyeom helps you and profusely apologizes. “You don’t need to apologize,” you wave him off. But this is not like you; what happened?”

His expression changes, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. He takes a deep breath before putting the last envelope into the bookshelf. 

“I am missing a critical piece of evidence, a part of a contract that proves my client’s innocence,” Dokyeom begins, clutching onto the desk. “I know who to subpoena, but the judge is being a real asshole and won’t allow me to access those documents. So my client might lose, and then they’ll drop me, which means bye to our house.”

He removes his tie and takes a sip from his water bottle, his Adam's apple shifting as he gulps. Your very frustrated husband is also very hot, and it’s taking all your willpower to stay on task.

“Listen,” you redirect your focus to his problem. “There’s no guarantee that you will lose this case, and we definitely are not losing our house. Why don’t you eat the lunch I brought, and we will figure it out, okay?”

He nods and kisses you on the forehead, his way of saying thank you that still makes you feel warm inside. You watch him take out his lunch, and you start to eat yours, making small talk about your day as you dig through the cheese sticks. 

“When did you order this, babe?” Dokyeom asks, mouth stuffed with pepperoni and cheese. “You were cleaning up when I left for work.”

“I ordered it right before I came up here,” you say proudly, feeding him some of your pizza. “I got tired of eating lunch alone and wanted to see you. Looks like you needed me too.”

He gives you a kind smile that soothes your soul like a warm hug. You talk more about the case as you clear out your food containers. Dokyeom mentions that he has been trying to get the evidence to no avail for the past week. Watching him stressing himself out bothers you, as you know how hard he has worked on this case, and you want to see him succeed. His eyes were glued to the papers in front of him, skimming over everything to find a possible loophole. You can’t help but take in how handsome he looks, focused on his work, his jaw clenching as his frustration mounts. 

So, you came up with an idea.

“Hey, babe,” you get his attention, removing your cardigan. “I’m going to help you relax, okay?”

He nods, his shoulders still tense up from reading over the paperwork. You move behind him, relaxing your hands on his shoulders before you massage them, making him feel more at ease. You start unbuttoning his shirt, reaching down to rub his chest while leaving kisses on his neck.

“Well, this is one way to do it,” Dokyeom hums, setting down his pen. He moves his head and kisses you deeply, his hands gracing your face softly, pulling you deeper into his rapture of love. You make a move to sit on his lap, taking off your tank top and exposing your favorite bra that pushes up your breasts just right. 

“Was this always the plan?” He smirks, leaving kisses down your neck. His lips suck on your sweet-tasting skin, his tongue trailing down to the valley of your breasts.

“And if it was?” You move in front of him, sitting on his lap, and your skirt hikes over your hips. “What are you going to do about it?”

He chuckles and kisses you more, removing your bra and throwing it across the office. You lift and reach down, undoing his pants and lowering his briefs, feeling the growing bulge hardening along your slit. “No panties? Aw, baby…”

“What?” You smiled coyly. “Do you want me to leave? I can just get up—”

“W-what? No, no, it’s not that,” his cheeks turn pink in a panic. “I hate to rush, but I have to be in a meeting in twenty minutes,” Dokyeom’s breathing hitches as his hand touches his manhood, stroking his thick girth to your naked breasts and exposed ass. You lower yourself until you are on your knees, moving his hand away as you take over. You kiss his dick just the way he likes it, his legs tensing up as you take him in your mouth. His thickness takes over your mouth as you suck him good, your free hand playing with your clit as you watch him cock his head back and curse softly. 

“Baby, you are so good at this,” he murmurs. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

He gently fucks your face, pacing himself so he doesn’t blow his entire load down your throat. Your eyes lock with his as you take him in deeper, drops of saliva spilling out of the corner of your mouth. Dokyeom is ashamed to admit it, but he likes it when you look like this: the makeup on your sweet face ruined with tears because you sucked him off so well. You would never tell him this, but you love how he tastes. The way his smooth cock hits the back of your throat makes you dripping wet, and if you keep up any longer, you will cum on this floor. 

“H-honey,” he sputters. “I have 15 minutes. Get on top.”

You slowly take him out of your mouth with a pop, lifting yourself and positioning yourself to sink into him. You both groan in unison when you are entirely on his lap, your nails digging into the armrest of his chair.

“This won’t take long, I promise,” you mutter, giving yourself a few seconds to get used to his size before slowly grinding on him and enjoying the feeling of him being inside of you. His body tenses at your movements and his fingers massage your clit softly. You unexpectedly let out a loud moan, and he covers your mouth with his hand.

“I know this feels good, bouncing on my hard dick, but you are going to have to keep it down, princess,” he grits. 

Dokyeom knows what that does to you, calling you princess as he fucks you into an earth-shattering orgasm. You’re a squirter, and he knows that, so it was unsurprising that your lower halves were covered with your essence. Your eyes never leave each other, whispering I love you and trading meaningful kisses. Dokyeom’s head rolls back, whispering songs of praise as you continue to ride him on his office chair. 

“Baby, I’m close,” he whines, his hands gripping your hips. You grind on him hard, finding your clit and releasing again shortly after. Dokyeom follows right behind you, spilling deep inside of you as his head buries deep into your neck. As he slows down, he kisses you lovingly, making sure your cunt is full of his cum before pulling out. You're still trying to catch your breath when you climb off of him to clean yourself up. 

“Mr Lee?” His secretary’s voice booms through the speaker, startling you both. “Your meeting starts in five minutes.”

“O-okay.”

You can see the time on his laptop, and the 5-minute reminder before the meeting stops flashing wildly on his screen. You find your bra and hurriedly put it on, with Dokyeom already dressed and holding your tank top and cardigan.

“What?” You catch him staring at you curiously. 

“You are so bad.” “Well, isn’t that why you fell in love with me? Aside from me beating your ass in court, of course.”

You finish getting dressed, helping him put his tie back on, and kissing him goodbye before heading out the door. You catch a photo you missed picking up earlier, and something catches your eye that makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Babe.” You pick up the photograph and inspect it thoroughly. “What’s the name of the judge?”

“Judge Choi,” he responds, preparing himself for his meeting. “Why?”

“This wouldn’t happen to be the judge in the 17th court, would it?

You pull out your phone and look him up, confirming your suspicions. 

“Okay, I know that look,” Dokyeom comments, a puzzled look on his face. “What’s up?” 

“This judge used to give me shit when I was practicing, but I always found a way to get around him,” you start. “There was talk about him being a crooked judge and being paid off by companies, but I could never confirm it until now. Look at the picture.”

You show him the photograph of the rival company at an event, pointing at the missing piece of the puzzle: the judge and the company’s CEO, arm in arm, taking a picture. “That’s why the judge is shutting you down, babe,” you confirm. “He has ties to the other guys. Judge Choi should have recused himself a long time ago.”

Dokyeom looks at you, amazed that his wife could figure out why he had this roadblock. “God, what would I do without you?”

“You’d still be losing to me in court.” You kiss him goodbye again, letting him prepare to attend his meeting. You close the door, and his secretary smiles at you and motions for you to come closer to her. 

“You should be more careful in there, dear,” she advises. “The whole office heard you.”

[feeder86]

Feeder 86: The Top Ten

Can you believe that the Feeder86 ‘Orginal Gainer Stories’ blog will soon be posting the two hundredth story? I thought of many ways to celebrate. But then I stopped and realised that I would probably be best using the time to address one of the questions I get asked about most frequently. Which of the stories do I personally like the most?

This was not an easy list to make as I very rarely go back to re-read my own work after I have finished editing and posting them. This is not because I do not like them, but because I always see bits that I want to change. Nevertheless, this project was the perfect opportunity to revisit a few oldies that I remember being very proud of at the time. 

Hopefully you will see this list for what it is: a glimpse into how I write, my motivations and drive; rather than just a self indulgent pat on the back for myself. Yuck!

So, with that being said, let us begin...

#10 The Feeders’ Formula: This tale certainly had to be placed into the list. After all, it is the one that kicked off ‘Original Gainer Stories’ all those years ago. There are many amazing examples of instant body weight transformation stories out there. I felt that I needed to write this one as my contribution to the genre. It went down well at the time. I swiftly wrote a Part Two, then followed it up with others (The Feeders’ Formation, The Feeders’ Formalities, The Feeders’ Foreclosure, The Feeders’ Forecast, The Feeders’ Former Years), becoming something of an ongoing saga in recent years; focusing on the different Feeders from that very first meeting. As a writer who sometimes struggles to find the ending, these are wonderful to write as they all have the same inevitable conclusion. There is also so much freedom to be had when you’re working with characters who are pretty much pure evil. I know so much more about the Feeders than I’ve ever written down, so it is great to tease out those little details with each new installment. The newest of these tales (The Feeders’ Foreplay) was the darkest yet, but seems to have provoked a very favourable reaction from many. Who knows what the Feeders may get up to next? I do! And you can find out too, once we start a whole new sweeps season of stories this April! Come with me into The Feeders' Fortress!

#9 Only One: Where do I start? Only One has my absolute favourite type of feeder. Ben is big, sexy and very in control. He’s one of those rare types of guys who always stays on top and is a step ahead of absoultely everyone he meets. Who wouldn’t fall for him? I certainly did! In fact, I loved him so much that I wrote an entire prequel for him (and none of you even noticed!) Check out Rewire if you want to see how Ben became the man we know and love.

#8 The Wright Boys: The idea of a weight gain that cannot be stopped or controlled is a tempting one for many. How much easier would it be if you didn’t have to second guess your choices or face the pressure to lose weight? This was the first tale of what I see as ‘The Curses’ saga that eventually bled into many other stories (including another one on this list!) and culminated in Wright vs Beckett. However, this story remains my personal favourite of these. If you’re a fan of looking for crossovers between my stories, these are some of the most explicitly linked. I followed it up with a spin-off tale (The Wright Boys: DNA), but continue to have ideas about how I could go back to these boys in the future. Watch this space.

#7 Making Monsters: The title of this story really does give away how I felt about it at the time. This is quite the saga, spread over into not just two, but three parts! It began as a story that was very similar to Blackmailed; a tale that I had written previously about a guy voyeristically enjoying seeing his friend fatten up her boyfriend. However, this story evolved even further for me, with Tommy’s love of eating and gaining weight being both his greatest love, and his biggest shame. His denial only heightened the tension for me, and, when he does eventually give in, the gains feel all the more satisfying as a result.

#6 The Pig Feed: It’s not easy to write a gainer story where there isn’t another character spurring the events along and encouraging things. In this tale however, that role is given to a very tasty and surprisingly addictive pig feed mixture that Steve gets himself hooked on. It’s a story that I really enjoyed writing and still feel very happy with. I have considered writing more stories around this interesting feed. However, I am yet to do so; deciding (for now at least) that things are perhaps best left as they are. But, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this.

#5 Farm Boy: Whether you grew up in a big city, or a small rural community, like Hayden in this story, we can all relate to having desires and attractions that those around us don’t understand. And, thanks to how well connected we are these days, we now know what it’s like to realise that you’re not actually alone, and the whirlwind of excited emotions that follow. I enjoyed writing this story because I, quite simply, fell completely in love with Hayden. As kinky as he was, he still retained that fresh faced innocence throughout. If any of my characters were destined to be together forever, I imagine that these two would be my top choice.

#4 Keeping a Crush: This is one of those stories that I wrote in a matter of hours, and I was so pleased with it when I was done. Getting the train to go to work is not necessarily something that many Americans have to do, and so the location had to be switched to the UK (quite refreshing, I thought!). For me, it’s one of those really rare instances where placing very solid restrictions on the structure of a story (In this case, having it all take place during the commute to and from work) and finding that it actually elevates the sexual tension and mood. All scenes take place in public settings. All conversations could, in theory, be overheard. These days, so many people meet online and flirt for weeks by messaging back and forth, before they even see each other for the first time. Nowadays, for better or for worse, the actual, real fantasy is finding a connection with someone you just see in the real world; perhaps with a person you literally just met on the way to work...

If you’ve not read this one, I really would highly recommend it.

#3 To the Max: Stories with a magical element to them are either loved or hated. However, I find that this tale walks that line very successfully. Ned gets his hands on a love potion and makes straight guy, Max, fall for him. I’m sure we’ve all been there with that fantasy! However, it is in the consequences of inviting someone into your life, someone that you actually know very little about, that the entire eroticism of this story is based. I won’t spoil it for those who have not read it, but believe me when I say that things soon start getting very interesting indeed…

#2 Tommy’s Two Hundred. Don’t recognise this one? Well, that's because none of you have read it yet. 

Now, I’m not just saying this because I want you all to come back for the two hundreth story, but this is genuinely one of my absolute favourites. For my big milestone stories in the past, I have written something specifically for that event (Wright vs Beckett, The Seven Feeders of Finn). However, this is just a tale that I adored writing and decided to hold back for you all, especially for this occasion. It’s a story of domination and submission within a fairly open, but very kinky, relationship. Strapping Hunter plays the part of a very controlling feeder, making me break many of my own rules and stretching my boundaries to the absolute limits. You’ll either love him, or you’ll hate him. That’s all I’m going to say…

Also, this story is going to be the first Feeder86 story that will be fully illustrated. It’s all thanks to the amazing talents of Spellwell9 who was given an advanced copy and asked to imagine the characters in four different scenes. I cannot wait for you to see this!

Put it in your diary. All will be revealed from Friday 5th April…

#1 F80 Control: This is perhaps a controvercial choice (especially as my #1). I have previously admitted that this story strays a little from its purpose of being a gainer story. In other words, I get very caught up in the background story that is being told. However, I feel that the science fiction genre is surprisingly underused in tales of weight gain. Yet, the combination of Aritificial Intelligence and submission seemed, to me, to be the perfect blend. It really is a beast of a story if you can follow it all the way through to its conclusion. 

With the advent of improved artificial intelligence software in recent years, I felt the time was right to develop the world further, with the addition of F80 Ctrl Alt Del; a spin-off tale set slightly before the main story. Then, unable to help myself, I followed this up again with another companion story, F80: Kidnap and Control. 

The reason I chose this universe as my favourite is because this is where I am happiest writing. With AI, I don’t need to consider the morality or motivations - I know exactly what their aims are and I can see multiple ways in which it will cause conflict with humanity (and their waistlines!) I would also love to write more for this world one day, and I even left a little unused subplot in the last story that I think would provide the perfect starting-off point for another chapter. Will I ever write it? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…

So, there you have it! The the complete list!

This was a much harder exercise than I expected when I first embarked upon it. Stories like: Jiggle the Jock, Meticulous, Rule Number One, Freaks, Leftovers I and II, Ethan: The Secret Feeder and, not fogetting The Consequences I, II and III all crept in and out of the list, unfortunatley missing out on the final cut. There are many, many others, of course. But this list cannot go on forever...

So, why not tell me which ones were your favourites? Feel free to write in the comments and post a link to any other stories that you have enjoyed from myself, or from other authors. Hopefully, if we all work together, this could become a great resource for people in the future, filled with signposts and reccommendations.  

Also, don’t forget the Feeder86 Contents page where you can find links and descriptions of all the 200 stories posted so far (as well as plot outlines for upcoming tales as well). Please continue to enjoy the vast catalogue of stories, and even have a go yourself! I love supporting the many new gainer fiction writers who contact me. So please do get in touch if you need advice, or to talk through your ideas. Let’s all encourage a whole new generation of people to get typing away! I’m sure you will cheer them on just as much as I will.

Thank you to everyone who supports the stories blog here on Tumblr. Keep checking in every Friday througout April for a whole new sweeps season to celebrate this milestone. Stories will include: Tommy's Two Hundred, Train for a Gain, The Feeders' Fortress and The 1% (a companion story to The 5%). For now, I thank you all for taking time out to sit and read the very bizarre tales that sprout from my mind. You are all wonderful.

Happy 200 stories!

Feeder86

[rainerioun]

𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖥𝖴𝖳𝖴𝖱𝖤 𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖴𝖲𝖤'𝖲 𝖥𝖠𝖵𝖮𝖱𝖨𝖳𝖤𝖲 𝖵𝖲. 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱𝖲 | 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽.

— This will explore what your future spouse will love 'most' about you, and vice versa. If you feel more aligned with the first half, simply swap the perspectives. Sometimes, you might resonate more with your future spouse's vibe. Thank you!

ORIGINAL DATE POSTED : MARCH 29TH, 2024.

HOW TO CHOOSE A PILE : The outcome may vary based on whether you receive clear messages visually or intuitively. If you resonate more with selecting a pile visually, trust that inclination. Personally, I believe the notion that 'looks can deceive,' so I prefer to take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the pile I'm meant to connect with to come to me. You might see the color of the pile, sense or hear a number, or simply feel its overall vibe.

Please don’t redistribute or edit my content.

MUST READ + MASTERLIST | KO-FI

PILE ONE

What Will They Like Most About You Physically? Figure, Height, Fingers, Hands.

When pulling out traits, I found several signs indicating a plump or chubby appearance. If you relate to this, rest assured they adore it, especially how it complements your height. I envision someone squeezing a teddy bear - in this case, you. They find you incredibly cute. Your hands and fingers, perhaps used frequently in your work or hobbies, captivate them. They'll marvel at the way your fingers glide over a page or mold something, appreciating your movements. It feels very poetic, in a way.

What Will They Like Most About You Mentally? Free Spirit, Sensitive, Homebody, Unstoppable.

Aw, your future spouse will surely have a nurturing side. They'll tend to coddle you, in a healthy way, of course. They admire how you pursue your desires with a free-spirited approach despite your introverted and sensitive nature. They'll likely encourage you to take breaks and relax, treating you like royalty. There's a distinct vibe of 'I hate everyone but you' coming through.

What Will They Like Most About You? Teacher — Light : Ability to Communicate Knowledge, Experience, Skill or Wisdom. Healer — Light : Passion to Serve Others by Repairing the Body, Mind, and Spirit. Ability to Help Transform Pain into Healing. Guide — Light : Represents the Nature of the Divine in Life and in Yourself.

They'll be quick to notice your depth of knowledge, not just on a conventional level but also on a spiritual one. Your future spouse will appreciate your natural ability to teach, guide, and heal others even when it's not your intention. Your wisdom may extend to philosophical terms, offering advice on profound matters that aren't easily grasped by others.

What Will They Like Most About You? Crow : Spiritually Strong, Creative, Watchful, Psychic, Strong, Clear. Butterfly : Undergoing Great Change and Transformation. Cheerful, Graceful.

Your future spouse will lean towards practicality more than you do and might not gravitate toward certain metaphysical ideas and theories as easily as you. They'll be amazed by your ability to understand such concepts. While they are intelligent, they tend to favor strict rules, whereas you thrive on constant change and learning experiences.

I'd like to add that I sense this person is deliberately holding back, choosing not to reveal much. They want it to be a surprise just how much they love you. Don't worry, they genuinely adore everything about you, even though they may have favorites.

What Will You Like Most About Them Physically? Hair, Rugged, Nose, Tired-Looking, Eyelashes, Face Shape.

When I was pulling traits, I couldn't help but think of Shōta Aizawa from My Hero Academia in terms of appearance, haha. Of course, this could be a woman or nonbinary individual, but they definitely give off a similar vibe physically. They might appear a bit rough or scruffy, and you'll find that attractive. I'm not getting any specifics on hair color, but I envision thick, longer hair that might look a bit disheveled. They possess that tired charm, which softens their face in a way. I see them having a hooked nose of some kind.

What Will You Like Most About Them Mentally? Spiritual, Reliable, Oblivious, Compassionate, Sassy, Intelligent, Mysterious.

Once again, your future spouse is intelligent but may lack in certain areas that you find amusing. They possess two distinct sides, perhaps being book-smart but lacking in common sense. However, I believe you'll help balance them out, whatever the situation may be. They'll initially have a mysterious, stoic persona, but you'll have the ability to break through it and discover their true sweetness. You will enjoy receiving attention from them, considering their reserved nature. While your humor aligns in some ways, this person is likely more inclined towards being sassy and witty rather than being a 'jokester'. At first, they won't be heavily into spirituality, or whatever you practice, but they'll become intrigued by your experiences and eventually find themselves following in your footsteps.

What Will You Like Most About Them? Storyteller — Light : Ability to Experience and Express Life through Stories and Symbols. Prince — Light : Romantic Charm and Potential for Power. Poet — Light : Expresses Soul Insights in Symbolic Language. Hermit — Light : Seeks Solitude to Focus Intently on Inner Life. Serves Personal Creativity.

Your future spouse is someone who expresses and feels love in an incredibly artistic manner. They have a secret, hopeless romantic inside. It's not just modern love; it's almost like you both worship each other, which I find incredibly beautiful. Seeing you in such a light will lead them to see you in other things, like art pieces or written words. They love you wholeheartedly. Adding on, creatively, you'll complement each other well. One side may lean towards being artistic and dreamy, while the other is innovative and a bit nerdy. You are both bound to swoon over each other.

What Will You Like Most About Them? Eagle : All-Pervading Power, Truth Seeker, Transforms Karma, Bright, Radiant, Challenger. Tiger : Lunar Force, Ease in Darkness, Passionate, Strong, Sensual.

With the eagle card, I'm not picking up on what you'll like about them, but rather another message about how you'll spark intense curiosity in them. You will inspire them to enlighten themselves and become an even better version of themselves with your teachings and guidance. Now, for the next card, this is something you'll definitely appreciate about them. I don't sense that this person will be shy when it comes to intimacy, in any form, and they won't hold back in showing how they love you.

Extra : Journaling, Eye Contact, Flowers, Parallel Play, Running Fingers Through Hair, Late Mornings, Poetry, Leaving Notes.

Best Mistake : Ariana Grande. | Movement : Hozier.

PILE TWO

What Will They Like Most About You Physically? Eyes, Hair, Piercings, Harmonious Features.

Your future spouse believes that your hair and features complement each other perfectly, creating harmony. Your hair may frame your face. They'll enjoy gazing into your eyes, possibly because of the connection they feel or simply because they find them captivating, whether it's the shape, color, or both. If you have an alternative style, such as piercings, tattoos, or darker attire, they find it very alluring.

What Will They Like Most About You Mentally? Wit, Sneaky, Bookworm, Deep-Thinker, Reserved, Needy.

This person views you as a fox, sly, clever, and witty, and they're drawn to that energy. They appreciate your complexity and the fact that you're not always straightforward; it keeps things interesting. They enjoy being challenged intellectually. However, they also appreciate the softer side of you when you're relaxed and in need, and they'll gladly cater to you. I imagine them watching you as you indulge in your hobbies, eager to hear you gush about your interests.

What Will They Like Most About You? Advocate — Light : Inspires You to Put Compassion into Action. Poet — Light : Expresses Soul Insights in Symbolic Language. Child : Nature — Light : Friendships with Animals. Communication with Nature Spirits.

Whatever way you choose to create and express yourself, whether, through art, music, or even activities like photography, they'll find it intriguing. They admire both your process and the results you achieve. This person will always be your supporter. You might work with animals, and they appreciate your gentleness and kindness towards them, or perhaps animals hold significance in your connection.

What Will They Like Most About You? Nightingale : Fearless Voice, Speech, Communication, or Song. Sings and Speaks Freely with Kindness. Moth : Impulsive, Hasty, Wishful, Enthusiastic, Whimsical.

When I pulled the cards, I initially wrote down the wrong definition for the nightingale. I've corrected it, but I thought the previous message might still resonate. If you're someone naturally very curious and actively trying to learn, they'll follow right behind you. They're loyal, just like you, and will start doing things you do because they're inspired by your enthusiasm and positivity. If you were drawn to pile one, I'd recommend giving it a read as well. You may find something there because these piles are quite similar.

An additional message is that you and your future spouse will connect through music, whether it's listening together or separately. So, you could be receiving signs now through songs.

What Will You Like Most About Them Physically? Texture of Hair, Tone of Skin, Height, Prominent Nose, Dyed Hair.

I sense your future spouse might have an alternative style as well, but it's not a must. If you're into dyed hair, they'll likely have it They could change colors with the seasons to suit their skin tone, or the color they have fits them year-round. You will enjoy the feel of their hair due to the texture which causes you to play with it. Generally, if you're taller than average, they'll be shorter, and if you're average height, they'll be similar. Either way, you'll like looking down at them or meeting their gaze directly.

Once again, whether you're drawn to pile one or not, I'd suggest going back and giving it a read as well. While the energies differ, I sense the message is similar. I feel like this pile is suited for individuals with eccentric tastes.

What Will You Like Most About Them Mentally? Sweetheart, Odd Humor, Confident, Adaptable, Ambivert, Clingy.

You and your future spouse will be inseparable, attached to the hip, if not driven by their clinginess then it's your own. It's something that makes both of you feel secure. They are the type to talk your ear off. This person's humor leans towards the darker or drier side. They might find everything amusing, but particularly society's less-than-normal aspects.

What Will You Like Most About Them? Networker — Light : Enchanted Unity through the Sharing of Informations. Engenders Social Awareness and Empathy. Gossip — Light : Awakens Consideration for the Feeling of Others. Honoring Trust.

I wasn't kidding when I said your future spouse will talk your ear off. They are quite the chatterbox. They'll be a drama queen, regardless of gender, but I think it's in a very playful and goofy way. You'll find it charming. They'll get super excited and giddy when they have a juicy secret to share with you. They're such a sweetheart that they would never intend any negativity, just relaying information without passing genuine judgment.

What Will You Like Most About Them? Octopus : Reaching, Yearning, Lacking Boundaries and Direction. Getting into Other People's Business and Sharing Their Own. Interested, Engaged. Wolf : Guardian of Family and Tribe. Activism, Ritual, Reliable, Fearless, Democratic. Embrace All, Exclude None.

What have I been saying? This person cracks me up. You'll adore how dependable they are, always a shoulder to cry on or a pillar of stability for you and others. They're just a people person. I sense they could become overly sensitive, requiring alone time. They tend to overshare, which is amusing when it's just the two of you, but you might need to help them rein it in around others. They can be a bit oblivious to social cues and may need some guidance when they're pushing the boundaries.

I sense they're internally extroverted but can get overwhelmed and find it difficult to handle social situations, even if they desire socialization.

Extra : Movie Nights, Bubble Baths, Parks, Sunshine, Wheezing, Glasses Perched on Nose, Comfort through Affection, Wrapped in a Blanket, Cheek Kisses.

Valentine : Laufey. | November : Sparkbird.

PILE THREE

What Will They Like Most About You Physically? Glow, Eyebrows, Lips, Your Frame.

Your future spouse will be drawn to the glow you exude. They find your bright personality radiating through every aspect of you, from your skin's natural shine to your expressive eyes and the curve of your lips. Even the way you carry yourself captivates them, unintentionally flaunting, which catches their attention.

What Will They Like Most About You Mentally? Innocent, Active, Hardworking, Compassion.

Firstly, they hold you dear, especially if you're not one to pause or slow down due to your hardworking nature. You could have somewhat of an innocent worldview—not that you don't understand hardship, but you maintain a strength and light that others lack. They'll absolutely love this side of you and cherish you.

What Will They Like Most About You? Fool — Light : Fearlessly Revealing Emotion. Helping People Laugh at Absurdity and Hypocrisy. Warrior — Light : Strength, Skill, Disipline, and Toughness of Will. Heroism, Stoicism, and Self-Sacrifice in Conquering the Ego. Mediator — Light : Gift for Negotiating Fairness and Strategy in Personal and Professional Life. Respect for Both Sides of an Arguement.

Your future spouse will admire how, despite being a logical person, you're not afraid to show emotion when necessary. You navigate life with a balance of logic and emotion, displaying good discipline. You're not impulsive and can guide others through hardships without coming across as harsh, bringing lightheartedness and fairness into the mix. They'll find this quality honorable. Your humor always serves as a mediator in situations, never failing to lighten the mood for them and others.

What Will They Like Most About You? Cobra : Pausing, Waiting, The Inner Teacher, A Student of Life, Humble, Wise. Fire Ant : Aggression, Rigid Thinking, Following Orders, Thoughtful, Disciplined, Heat.

Your future partner could have experienced instability with others in the past due to hasty behavior, or they struggle themselves with acting too quickly. On the other hand, you give yourself time, thinking before you act. Yet, when you do move forward, you do so with an assertive and direct demeanor, which makes them grateful they can lean on you for stability.

What Will You Like Most About Them Physically? Nose, Neck / Collar Bone Area, Elegant and Composed, Chin, 'Bunny Beauty'.

Your future spouse has a very approachable appearance. Their face might remind many of a bunny. I imagine this person with a rounder nose and face, perhaps chubby cheeks, but with a prominent chin and jaw instead. They look well put together and carry an elegant quality about them. You'll endlessly adore your partner. It's very cute.

What Will You Like Most About Them Mentally? Bad Mouth, Neat, Stubborn, Loyal.

Their appearance versus their personality could easily turn heads. They seem sweet and soft, but use harsh language often, cussing like a sailor. They look nice but act naughty. They're also incredibly stubborn, which apparently you'll find appealing. You'll anticipate others' reactions when they open their mouth, finding it amusing. As for you, I sense it's the opposite. You might appear a bit intimidating but are actually very gentle.

What Will You Like Most About Them? Detective — Light : Great Powers of Observation and Intuition. Desire to Seek Out the Truth. Midas/Miser — Light : Entrepreneurial or Creative Ability to Turn Anything to Gold. Delight in Sharing Life's Riches.

This person will readily share their wealth or achievements with you. Your future spouse might have a good-paying job, or money could come easily to them, possibly through generational wealth. However, I sense that they just know how to handle money wisely and earn it with help from their well-built knowledge.

I don't get the sense that they're materialistic or chasing money, but rather that they invest in things that make a meaningful impact, like travel or once-in-a-lifetime experiences. They have achieved financial stability, but they also have wealth in terms of nonmaterial things.

What Will You Like Most About Them? Bat : Darkness, Letting Go, Death Leading to Rebirth, Excepts and Adapts, Adjusts. Swan : Effortless, Creativity, Sensitive Mystic, Elegant Power.

Returning to that elegant aura they have, I can't pinpoint exactly what causes it, but it might be because they are highly intuitive and sensitive to others' thoughts and feelings. They easily pick up on these subtleties and can adapt and change accordingly. Despite their effortless beauty, they are a complex person on the inside. You find them to be a puzzle worth solving.

Additional. Another Message.

For a few of you, I believe you may not immediately hit it off with your future spouse. Your composed nature might clash with their boldness, leading to disagreements stemming from stubbornness or a desire for "correct behavior." However, you'll both eventually look past it, but initially, it might feel like something out of an enemies-to-lovers book. It won't be extreme, but it could get a little heated. This could form in a workplace.

[NEVER SETTLE FOR SOMETHING TOXIC. I MEANT SIMPLE BANTER, NOT ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR.]

Extra : Sleek Attire, Slicked Hair, RomCom, Tattoos, Generational Insight/Knowledge, Promise Rings, Military, Dreamy, Shared Earbuds, Sharp Glares and Glances.

Make You Feel Good : Fetty Wap. | Powerful : Major Lazer. | Cry : Cigarettes After Sex.

PILE FOUR

What Will They Like Most About You Physically? Voice, Beauty Marks, Lips, Eyes.

I want to mention that either you or this individual could be a musician, while the other serves as a muse. Whether or not it's you, your future partner will love hearing you sing. They find your everyday speaking voice charming, especially its soft, breathy quality. While eye contact with them may not be 'intense', it feels profoundly connecting and grounding. If you wear makeup, this person likes it. Perhaps it's the shape of your lips or their natural color, but I believe that wearing lipstick or gloss, anything that enhances your features will allure them even more.

What Will They Like Most About You Mentally? Shy, Tender, Well-Versed, Open, Quiet, Devoted.

Aw, I wish I could give you all a hug! You're so tender and gentle in both your words and your actions. You're devoted not only to your loved ones but also to the things that bring you joy. Your future spouse will find this incredibly endearing.

I'm sensing more about how deeply they love you rather than the specifics of what they like. When you meet this person, it'll feel like being showered with affection and passion. They genuinely value every aspect of you and want to express that.

What Will They Like Most About You? Angel — Light : Helping Those In Need with No Expectation of Return. Damsel — Light : Understanding the Nature of Healthy Romance. Inspires You to Rely on Yourself.

You not only embody the qualities of the cards, but I sense that your future spouse will view you as an angel. They might even adopt it as a nickname if you're fond of the idea. You're the shining beacon in their life, their prince/princess, which I admit can sound a bit cheesy or even cringe, but in your case, it's incredibly sincere and pure.

What Will They Like Most About You? Peacock : Inner Beauty, Compassion, Confident, Kind. Gazelle : Heighten Awareness, Ability, Vulnerable, Perceptive, Graceful.

Your future spouse sees you as stunning both on the outside and within. Your physical beauty is undeniable, but it's your soul that truly captivates them. They'll be in awe of its depth and beauty. Your future spouse may gawk awkwardly over you, yet it will be funny.

What Will You Like Most About Them Physically? Physically Expressive, Dewy Skin, 'Cat Beauty', Pout, Clear Skin, Freckles.

This person's skincare routine is godly. Their eyes and gestures are incredibly expressive, drawing people in. You'll notice their natural pout, which adds to their charm. Their features will have a feline or fierce quality, with high cheekbones, defined features, and possibly a smaller yet thick nose. They might also have a longer face or narrow eyes.

What Will You Like Most About Them Mentally? Funny, Loner, Eccentric, Sensitive, Humble.

Your person is a bit of an oddball, in the best way. They embrace their inner nerd or geek often. Your personalities are a perfect match, and I can see you both enjoying plenty of alone time together because you don't drain each other's social batteries. They're self-aware and true to themselves, no matter what.

What Will You Like Most About Them? Don Juan — Light : Spotlights Your Positive Seductive Qualities. Child : Eternal — Light : Determination to Remain Young in Body, Mind, and Spirit. Ability to See Things with Fresh Eyes. Guide — Light : Represents the Nature of the Divine in Life and in Yourself.

While they may seem reserved, this person radiates confidence when they're with you. They know how to play their cards right—they can talk the talk and walk the walk. But underneath it all, they're playful and childlike at heart. No matter how old they get, they'll always carry a lighthearted and curious energy, like a kid. Life with them will never be boring.

What Will You Like Most About Them? Black Egg : Speaking from an Authentic Voice, Truth. Bee : Earnest, Hard-Working, Content, Vibrant.

Your future spouse will be an honest person, always speaking their inner truth, even with strangers. They're not afraid to be vibrant, and I have a feeling that will influence you as well. Communication is important to them in this life. As I mentioned earlier, they could be a musician. If not, with their persuasive skills, they could find success as a public speaker or influencer of some sort.

Extra : Spying From Corners or Doorways [Playfully, of course], Singing, Puppy Dog/Pleading Eyes, Feather-Light Touch, Pinky Promise, Junk Drawer, Piggy Bank.

Don’t Be Afraid : Carpenters. | Brooklyn : Lana Del Rey.

[dovesdreaming]

hiii!!!! I saw you wanted requests for descendants so here I am!!! I was wondering if you're willing to write plus sized reader? if not, could you write Harry Hook with someone who's insecure about their body? no pressure! thanks!!

Harry hook x insecure!reader

Hi I really hope I did this request justice and that people can take comfort from it! I hope I portrayed his character right and that you can enjoy it <3 I may rewrite this in the future and go further into the issues but I kept this quite light for now

Not edited yet please ignore any errors

Warnings: talk of body issues

When he notices you he falls immediately. Asks anyone close by if he knows you’re taken and angrily scoffs if people just shrug him off. Once he got his answer that you were single he made his aim to win you over.

-Harry is quite a flirty person by nature but when it comes to you he ranks it up ten fold. Near enough every sentence that’s directed to you has at least a flirty undertone.

-Would make it known to everyone that he wanted you and when you finally agreed to be his he couldn’t be happier.

-Once your in a relationship with each other things progress to a deeper level yet he still flirts with you because he loves making you flustered

-What he doesn’t expect to find out about you though is that your insecure about things he’d never put much thought into before. He thought it was astonishing that you were insecure about little lines in your skin you called stretch marks and something you called cellulite. When Harry looked at you he never saw these insecurities that you called ugly, he only saw someone who was perfect and beautiful. He saw the person he loved. Now that he knew you didn’t like these little things about yourself he always made an effort to show you he loved them. He kissed the places you hated and always told you how beautiful you were making sure to look deep into your eyes when he says it to make his message clear, he wouldn’t allow any buts. He also loved to rub his hook over the places you felt insecure about because he knew how much you loved the hook from how much you stared at it.

-When you were having a rough day he was gentle with you and did everything he could to show you how much he loved you and how your insecurities were meaningless.

-Would not listen or take no for an answer if he wanted to pick you up. Would shush any of your claims that you’re too big or heavy to pick up. He was strong he could carry you and would love to.

-If he ever saw you looking in the mirror with a deflated look he would immediately sweep you off your feet. Bending you backwards with a hand supporting your back while he whispered sweet nothings and compliments in your ears with his pirate accent.

-Would try to be as comforting as possible but would be hard to begin with for him as he wasn’t raised in an environment like that.

-If anyone ever made comments on your insecurities they would be done for as Harry would step in front of you protectively while staring down at the person in question. He looms over them while playing with his hook, daring them to say another word about you.

-Harry wouldn’t rest until you loved those parts of yourself and would make you say positive things about yourself daily.

-You would help him with any of his insecurities as well, as I can imagine he can get insecure about not fitting in, in Auradon.

Thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed <3