#i hope you like it this chapter is a lot

[egophiliac]

What do you like about the Diasomnia boys if I may ask?

I always love hearing about the different reasons people enjoy characters.

I mean, c'mon. he has split custody over Sebek okay

also, Lilia in particular has maybe the best timeskip character development of all time

[myokk]

clumsy

pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

word count: 9,1k

summary: sebastian is clumsy

cw: fluff, mutual pining, idiots in love, two really stubborn idiots in love to be exact, sir cadogan guest appearance, anne and imelda are the gremlin best friends every girl needs, smut (18+ ONLY), oral (f. recieving)

a/n: or: two stubborn brats make things more difficult than they have to be. I've been working on this for a MONTH more or less, ever since I drew the sketch that inspired it🫶 (I'm the world's slowest writer)

The first time Sebastian Sallow interacted with her after the fateful events of their fifth year, he fell for her.

Quite literally.

Maybe fell on her is more aptly put - Sebastian Sallow is not one to mince his words or say what he doesn't mean, after all. But, in the years to come, he always insists that he fell in love in that moment.

It was inexplicable. One moment, he was walking around, perfectly content with his loveless, boring life, and the next, his every waking moment was painful. Nobody had ever told Sebastian that being in love would physically pain or consume him so.

It all started like this: one moment, he's walking (well, striding) to Crossed Wands. Fine, he's running. Running late already, for the first meet-up of his last year. But - he isn't to blame for being late. He needed to check on something in the library - during his Transfiguration lesson, he had a hunch about something Professor Weasley had said in passing, and of course he had to go and check to see if he was right before he could even think about besting Leander in the inaugural duel of the Crossed Wands season but now, with how late he is - how many minutes ago had it started? - oh, Merlin, it's already been ten whole minutes and what if they've started without him (not that he can blame them) and -

Sebastian is abruptly pulled out of his thoughts when he collides with a strange obstruction in his way. He was just checking his father's old pocket watch, had only looked away for a split second and he could have sworn that, unless he was mistaken (which he never is), there wasn't a statue in the middle of the suspension bridge. And yet, he has run headfirst into something or someone, and now they are both flying through the air, books whirling around them in a flurry of pages and Sebastian unconsciously puts his arms out to grab her before they hit the ground and now he's holding her tight against him and they land with a loud, ungraceful thud, but at least she's not hurt.

Sebastian shakes his head to clear it after the impact that - miraculously - doesn't seem to have been as bad as it could have been, all things considered, and -

He freezes.

What has he done?

He's pressed up against the most impossibly lovely person he has ever seen quite possibly in his life, holding her tightly in his arms as she glares up at him in indignation, a faint flush spreading across her cheeks, making her face glow. Is this what the muggles mean when they say that they were struck by Cupid's arrow? Her hands scrabble uselessly at his chest as she tries to extricate herself from his grip. It's useless. Sebastian is completely frozen in place as he stares down at her, and he can feel his own face heating up at his inability to get off her. What's wrong with him?

"Sebastian," she repeats, and this time her voice registers in his brain. He realizes she has been talking to him this whole time, and as he stares at her face without comprehending - he couldn't have a coherent thought right now even if he wanted to - he sees her eyes dart quickly down, looking at where their bodies meet before she brings them back to his face, a deeper blush coming over her. "You -"

Oh, Merlin. It's her. He blinks and it's like the fog has cleared from his mind - almost, but-not-quite - and he realizes who he has unceremoniously crashed to the ground with him. The spines of the textbooks they are lying on top of dig into the arm that's pinned under her body and his other hand...he realizes (to his almost-horror) that to any students or professors walking by, it would seem as if they were caught up in quite the scandalous extra-curricular activity because his other hand is actively caressing her breast. Well, that's how it would look to any passerby, anyways.

Because there is no way he would be caught dead in such a compromising position with her.

The two of them haven't spoken since the events of their fifth year - the Year-That-Shall-Not-Be-Remembered-or-Acknowledged - and he had been perfectly content with his plan to continue this strange sort of ignoring that they had played all last year. Both of them pretending that they hadn't become impossibly close after only knowing each other for a few months - a closeness that he had gone and ruined by not knowing when to quit. All he had known to do back then was push push push because why couldn't she see things the way he had? The betrayal he had felt when she had gone behind his back to find her own way to cure his sister, and that one stupid word uttered in the heat of the moment, had caused an irreparable rift in their relationship and he would not allow himself to think about how much he missed her. Still misses her.

Just like he will not think about the fact that she is pressed beneath him in a compromising position, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she glares up at him in indignation. He continues to stare at her. Maybe his mouth is agape. She's stopped trying to get out of his grip and is resting her hands on his chest, seemingly waiting for an opportunity to push him off of her.

"Sebastian. Your hand," she repeats. "You're -"

Finally his idiot brain decides to wake up and Sebastian realizes with horror just how aroused he is at the moment and how did he never see her like this before? He gets up in a flash, pushing her back against the pile of books they're lying on top of, wondering if he can subtly adjust his robes without her realizing and then he makes the very grave mistake of looking down at her and she's still very much red-faced, propping herself up by her elbows and she looks so disheveled and lovely lying on top of the pile of books.

His idiot brain has now woken up completely, and how is it possible for one hormonal, eighteen-year-old wizard to be so embarrassed? He knocked her to the ground, pushed her further back in the books in his desperate attempt to get away from her, and now all he can think about is how to hide his arousal. Shameful, really. Sebastian quickly crouches down to help her pick up all of the books but she shoves him away and glares at him with an annoyance that he's never seen before.

"I can do it myself, thank you very much," she says with a huff, gathering everything they spilled up into her arms. She grabs the book Sebastian is holding out of his hands and he inhales sharply at the touch of her fingers grazing his.

Did someone - Garreth, maybe - spike his pumpkin juice with Amortentia during lunch? It's the only explanation he can think of as he stares blankly down at her. How else would he find her so beautiful, so breathtaking, when the last time they had interacted, Ominis and Anne had had to act as intermediaries for the two of them?

"Well," she says finally, slinging her school bag over her shoulder once all of her books have been unceremoniously shoved inside of it, "it's been...nice seeing you again, Sallow. I hope you had a good summer holiday."

And with that, she quickly turns and walks away in the direction she had been coming from, leaving a very confused Sebastian behind. He watches her as she walks away and her long, swishing braid is the last thing he sees before the door closes behind her at the far end of the bridge.

Eventually, he gathers his wits and wanders away.

He does not go to the first Crossed Wands meeting that afternoon after all.

She has not had a full-night's sleep since he somehow cursed her mind and her thoughts a week ago, and she can feel herself slowly slipping into insanity. A curse is the only answer that makes sense, the only thing that gives a conceivable answer to all the wicked dreams she has been having since that moment, dreams that cause her to wake up sweaty and breathless and needing him in the middle of the night in a way she has never felt before. She has been an absolute mess, a disastrous version of her normally quite put-together self, and she is not happy about it.

He's sitting next to her now - they were partnered up by the evil Professor Onai in their first NEWT Divination class of the year - and she's holding herself rigidly, arms tight across her chest, in an attempt to not accidentally touch him. Lately, every single time they make fleeting eye contact across the table during breakfast, or when they pass each other in the hallways, a shiver runs down her spine at the unfamiliar look in his eyes and she has to avert her eyes before it's too much.

Divination has never been a favorite subject of hers - too impermeable for her tastes. She is only taking it at the NEWT level because, during her career counseling with Professor Ronen at the end of her fifth year, he had said that if she wanted to be an Unspeakable she couldn't just work with logic (a preposterous thought, but as a sixteen-year-old she hadn't seen any recourse in arguing with the Ministry's requirements). She supposedly needs to get comfortable with the intangible as well. It doesn't mean she has to enjoy it, though: she doesn't, and never will. The Divination classroom is dark and stuffy, tucked away in one of the highest towers of the castle, and the nauseating smell of incense always coats her nasal cavities long after the class has finished. She finds her thoughts getting muddled in the haze of candle smoke and swirling orbs on the shelves around her - magic somehow always feels thicker up here - and the presence of a certain someone whose knees keep brushing hers under the tiny table they're sharing, a certain someone who has - improbably, inconceivably, impossibly - hit a growth spurt that summer and now towers over her and had encompassed her completely when he knocked her to the ground, isn't helping her concentration at -

"This week, we are going to review everything we learned together last year," Professor Onai says, after the class had rearranged itself based on her instructions. Sebastian shoots a look at her as she shakes her head in an attempt to clear it and sits up straighter. She hopes that Onai's lecture will help her concentrate and clear her mind a bit. If she has something to focus on, to try and think of and remember, it will be better than him. Anything would be better than Sebastian. Onai gives an appraising look to each table before continuing her speech. "As your NEWTs are at the end of the year, we need to make sure you are as prepared as possible. Open your books to page two-hundred and thirty. Today we're going to review the art of palmistry. I should hope that you do not need the aid of your textbook to help interpret the lines in your partner's palm but in the case that you do -"

She chances a glance at Sebastian before getting out her copy of Divining the Undivinable from her bag and wishes she hadn't. He looks uncomfortably big sitting on the tiny tea chair across from her, barely any hints of the boy who had completely swept her away two years ago visible on the sharper planes of his face. When had he - had they - grown up?

Sebastian Sallow was - is - charming, and that had been her downfall. She had successfully avoided his charms the year before, and she wasn't going to let that happen this year, no matter how much her body rebelled against her mind and resolve. Because, as she reminds herself, Sebastian Sallow is also manipulative, and cold-hearted, and selfish.

"Well," she says archly, opening her book. She will not look at him. "I suppose I am still quite ignorant of the practice of Divination, so do forgive me if I have to double-check my readings in the textbook."

He says her name as she opens the book, and she ignores him. He says her name again. She continues to ignore him. He grabs the book from her hands and puts it the correct way for her. She was looking at it upside-down. Her cheeks heat up and she continues flipping through the pages, as if nothing has happened. She finds page two-hundred and thirty. She pretends to be interested in what she sees.

(Divination is unfortunately not interesting.)

Oh, fine.

"Do you want to start, or should I?"

These are the first words she has voluntarily spoken to him - not including the events of last week, which do not count as they were most decidedly not voluntary - since he called her ignorant a year and a half ago. He somehow looks surprised to see that she has addressed him, and for some reason this fills her with rage and a strange sort of confidence. Why shouldn't she be able to talk to him?

"Here," she says, putting her hand out towards him, palm up, ignoring the strange fluttering feeling in her chest when he gently grabs it with one of his. Sebastian looks up at her, waiting for her to continue speaking, and were she not looking at him so intently she would have easily missed the bob of his throat as he swallows nervously. "Show me how it's done."

Her breath catches in her throat at the small, mischievous smirk he shoots to her before he bends over her hand and gently starts tracing the lines on her palm with the fingers of the hand that's not holding hers in place. His touch is feather-light and somehow soft, despite the roughness of his fingers as they drag over her palm. Every nerve in her body seems to have moved to wherever he touches and all of the bravado and anger she had just felt is quickly melting away. When she finally finds her voice, she hates how soft and breathy it sounds. She can't look away from the sight of his larger hands caressing hers.

"Well? What do you see? Do you remember the different lines? Because I -"

She falters. The murmurs of their classmates blend together in the background and the dim lights of the candles...the hazy, thick atmosphere and his proximity and the barely there touches of his rough fingertips on her sensitive palm are altogether too overwhelming and she needs to get out of there. She's supposed to be angry with him. Furious, even. Holding this grudge has been the only way she has been able to have any sort of power over him this past year, and yet...all she can think about at the moment are the sinful dreams she's been having lately where he presses her against a wall, desperately kissing her lips, her neck - even she knows that there has to be more to it - but what?

Sebastian blinks as she snatches her hand away like it's been burned and - oh, Merlin - she shoves the textbook back into her schoolbag and almost knocks the candle on the table over and wouldn't it be awful if she had started a fire? But she can't think about any of that now in her haste to just get out of the claustrophobic Divination tower.

Vaguely, she can hear Professor Onai asking her if everything is fine and she's not sure but she thinks she mumbles something about needing to go to the Hospital Wing - that's a good enough excuse to leave, isn't it? - but then she hears his voice, deep and cutting through the fog in her mind -

"Don't worry, I'll take her and make sure she gets there fine." A muffled response from their professor and then his voice, just as clear as before. "No, I don't know what happened..."

She hears him calling her name as she flees down the spiral staircase, almost tripping over her feet in her rush to get away from him, but he catches up quickly, reaching out to grab her arm in an attempt to slow her down. She stops running immediately - she supposes her traitorous body wants to see what he has to say, or maybe it just wants to bask in his intoxicating proximity. He crowds her space, and she sees that unfamiliar look in his eyes again. So very different from the cold disdain she had seen the last time she had been this close to him, during the argument that had ended their friendship.

"Let go of me," she whispers, but there's no conviction in her voice as she gazes into his deep, brown eyes. He can tell she doesn't mean it and doesn't make any move to listen to her. Why can't she hold on to the rage? A muggle quote about anger floats through her mind: Holding on to anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. What a sweet poison her anger at Sebastian had been, while it lasted. She tries telling herself that he must still feel the same as the evening he had called her ignorant (ignoring the small voice in her head that reminded her of the letters of apology he had sent (that she had burned without reading), the times he had tried to get Anne or Ominis involved and apologize for him) - because why couldn't he just tell her himself? Maybe she had shut down any and all attempts he had made to repair the rift that he had caused in the first place, but she had been right to be so angry with him.

But oh, Merlin, he's getting closer to her, and she can now clearly see the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose and forehead and then before she knows it, his hand is sliding up her arm, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches and then he's caressing her jaw with his rough thumb and he pauses. Her eyelids flutter closed as her head tilts towards him - she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to (what does she want?). She can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips and she has the improbable, ridiculous thought - how is he remembering to breathe? - before he speaks. His lips brush against hers with every soft word and a deep shiver runs through her body.

"I," she hears him say, his voice so, so low, "haven't been able to think since last week."

That's all she needs to hear, the brush of his bottom lip against hers all she needs to feel, to push her into closing what minuscule distance there is between them and then his lips are on hers and it's better than anything she's been imagining. His mouth is soft against hers, insistent, and her hands go up to grip the collar of his plaid jacket to make sure he doesn't go away or disappear on her.

She knows she's behaving wantonly, snogging Sebastian Sallow in the middle of the hallway where anyone could come across them, but third period has only just started and besides, she has had a week of restless nights being tortured by thoughts of him. A week of a few hours of sleep found here and there. Just one kiss should be enough to help her get over these strange feelings, right? She only feels like this because having him lie on top of her after he crashed into her - that satisfying weight of him - the friction of his thumb brushing against her nipple - had made her realize just how stupid she had been, holding this grudge against him for -

She whimpers in protest but it quickly turns into a moan as his mouth moves away from hers and down to her neck. He pulls at her tight collar desperately - she hears some seams ripping - to give him better access to it, and she finds herself arching her back and pushing her body closer to his as he nuzzles her neck with his nose before giving it open, sloppy kisses. When he hears her, he moves back to kissing her, greedily capturing every breathy moan that comes out of her mouth, but the noises coming from him are matching hers, and at the sound she feels an unfamiliar clenching deep in her stomach. Her fingers come up to his hair, going through the silky curls over and over - how are they as soft as his lips? - and he slowly pushes her back until she's sandwiched between his warm body and the cold stone of the wall behind her.

He lets out a low, frantic growl as a hand goes to grip the back of her head, holding her in place as he slants his mouth over hers. He tastes like cinnamon and...like something forbidden. What has gotten into her? She hates him, and yet...

They have abandoned any pretense of propriety - had they ever even been trying? - by this point. His tongue swipes across her lips and then she is completely lost to him, to every sensation of his mouth, and tongue, on hers. His large hands - the wicked hands that had been caressing her palm and had caused this whole mess in the first place - have moved to her waist and are pulling her even closer to him. When he pulls away briefly, she whines in protest, opening her eyes to glare at him. The sight of him, flushed and breathless, his eyes wide and pupils dilated - must match her own appearance because she sees the same hunger she feels in his eyes. She has never seen Sebastian Sallow so disheveled, but she finds she quite likes it and tugs on his curls with a whine. He obliges eagerly, bringing his mouth back to hers.

She's pressed as tightly against him as she can possibly be, and yet it still isn't enough. Her back arches once again, trying to find something, and then he slots one of his knees between her legs. She moans at the friction caused by his movements, can feel an unfamiliar slickness forming at the juncture between her legs, and this seems to spur him on further as his kisses get more desperate and sloppy. She moves against his leg, trying to relieve some of her discomfort, gasping into his mouth, when -

They freeze. Even if they are fully, completely, absorbed by...whatever this is, they can't ignore the strange, metallic clanking sound coming from their left. Sebastian pulls his head back from her slowly, reluctantly, breathing heavily, and looks over to see what the noise is. She wants to, but all of a sudden the horrifying reality of what they've been doing sinks in and oh god what if the noise is a person? Someone who has now seen her in what might possibly be the most mortifying moment of her life - desperately snogging Sebastian Sallow - and she finds she can't look over. She tucks her head into his neck to hide her face as she listens.

"I demand that you get away from her at once, you knave! Cease your attack!"

The voice sounds vaguely familiar, but she's certain that it doesn't belong to any of her classmates. He almost sounds...medieval, but -

"I made haste when I heard sounds of distress coming from down the hallway," the voice continues, "and it appears I have arrived not a moment too soon!"

She brings her head away from Sebastian's shoulder but still refuses to look over at whoever is speaking, instead choosing to stare at Sebastian's face. He's still deliciously flushed from their snogging, still breathing heavily, but now he looks terribly confused. His brows are furrowed, mouth opening and closing as he tries to come up with a response to the outrage currently being directed at him.

The unknown man is continuing his diatribe, almost not even stopping to breathe as he gets more and more worked up, and she hears some more clanking as he reaches a particularly exciting moment in his rant. Sebastian looks increasingly confused, but still shields her with his body, not moving away from her at all despite the accusations.

Her curiosity gets the better of her and she peeks over to see who it is.

The man who has been reprimanding Sebastian so boldly is none other than Sir Cadogan. Although she's never interacted with him directly, she often hears him yelling at his pony as she passes his portrait on her way to Divination. The knight is standing between two witches having tea, who are glaring at him quite angrily as he gesticulates wildly - every movement of his sword comes dangerously close to their display of cakes and sandwiches and it looks like he has already broken some plates. His armor is ill-fitting and loose on him, which explains the terrible noise.

"You rascally knave! I assure you that you do not want to find out what will happen to you if you do not unhand the fair maiden."

He brandishes his sword again, and the woman closest to him quickly snatches her tea cup away to save it from being broken as well. "Come now, Sir Cadogan," she says, exasperated. "Can't you see that these two are in love?"

The other woman joins her protests, nodding vigorously. "Yes, exactly that. Leave them be!"

"Nonsense," he exclaims. "I too have succumbed to my baser instincts on occasion and I can assure you that this is decidedly not what is occurring."

As Sir Cadogan continues to alternate between lecturing her and Sebastian, and directing his two attention to the ladies who are defending them, she looks back to the boy in question. Sebastian is looking down at her, a bemused smile on his lips and she feels a twinge in her chest. His face is still so close to hers that if she wants to, they could be snogging again with barely any effort and her eyes briefly flicker down to his tempting mouth before going back to his eyes, but...

What had gotten into her? What is she doing?

He had somehow managed to manipulate her again, because there is no way that this situation could have happened otherwise. All of a sudden, the anger she's been feeling for the past year and a half - that had left for a brief, blissful moment - surges again, and she pushes Sebastian away from her with as much force as she can muster. She almost feels bad as the happiness in his face turns to confusion, then frustration as he realizes she's getting away from him.

"Stay away from me," she hisses, picking up her discarded schoolbag from its spot on the ground. As she stalks down the hall, she can hear Sir Cadogan cheering on her bravery over the ringing in her ears.

She has a lot of thinking to do.

Sebastian Sallow's List of Priorities (in no particular order):

Figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I graduate;

Figure out how the hell I'm going to finish this bloody Charms essay before tomorrow; and

Figure out what the hell is going on between us

Sebastian sits in an undisturbed corner of the library - nobody ever comes to this table because it's tucked away between shelves of incredibly dense magical theory books - and is twirling his quill in his fingers, watching the ink splatter on the list he spent his precious time writing instead of the Charms essay he should be working on. He's far away from the first-years who like to congregate by the windows and watch the leaves fall softly to the ground rather than study for their classes. He's made especially sure that he is far, far away from her.

It's not his choice, mind you, but he needs to be a gentleman about these things. If she needs some time and space to figure out that she's as crazy for him as he is her, fine. But even Sebastian Sallow's patience runs thin, and he's not sure how much longer he can give her to come to her senses before he snaps and takes matters into his own hands. If things were up to him, the two of them would be sitting far too close together now in this secluded corner, and maybe he would need to put a hand over her mouth to ensure her complete silence as he runs a hand up her thigh.

Now that he knows what delicious sounds can come out of her mouth - sounds that he caused - he's been having a hard time concentrating on, well, anything. Sebastian surreptitiously glances across the library to where she's sitting and studying with his sister and Imelda. Ever since the events after their Divination class, Sir Cadogan has taken it upon himself to follow Sebastian around the halls of the castle, tripping through frames and disrupting their inhabitants as he lectures Sebastian on love. The tea party women had managed to convince the knight that he had disrupted an amorous exchange, and Sebastian fervently wishes they hadn't.

The whole school is abuzz with rumors about who it could be. Nobody has even come close so far with their guesses, but Anne and Imelda are having too much fun teasing him about it. Somehow, she has managed to avoid suspicion - he wonders how this is even possible, since she's never been able to hide what she's thinking. He makes eye contact with her - has she been staring at him this whole time? - and she flushes before looking over to Imelda, who's laughing too loudly at something Anne's just said. Sebastian can't tear his eyes away from her profile, his eyes following the curve of her eyebrow, the slight upturn of her lips as she smiles at her friends, her eyes as they dart back to him, her cheeks as she turns an even darker shade of red as she realizes he's still watching her. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and rests her chin on her hand as she tries to look absorbed in what Anne is saying to her.

Sebastian wonders if she's thought about him as much as he's thought about her. Judging by how she had snogged him back, he's positive that she feels the same way, but then he remembers how she had looked at him before she fled, and he's not so sure. He sighs as he looks back to his list, bringing his quill back to the third item and ripping the paper as he crosses it out again. His mind has been going in circles since that moment and he doesn't know what to think. He slowly puts everything into his schoolbag before heading out of the library for yet another freezing cold shower that hopefully tempers his now-permanent state of arousal whenever she's around.

He doesn't notice her eyes following him as he walks out of the library.

He doesn't hear her hurried excuse to Anne and Imelda as she shoves her things into her bag and rushes to follow him.

He doesn't hear her light footsteps as she gets closer to him.

When she puts a hand out to touch his arm as he waits for the moving staircase to stop, with a soft, "Sebastian" accompanying it, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He was so absorbed with thoughts of her, that to see her standing at his side, closer than she had been since they kissed was almost his snapping point.

"Can we talk?" she asks, looking almost embarrassed as she avoids his eyes. She instead looks determinedly at his collar. He thinks she probably notices that he swallows nervously before acquiescing, but she says nothing as she turns and starts hurrying away from him without waiting to see if he follows her.

She must know that he would follow her anywhere at this point.

They weave through hallways - Sebastian vaguely wonders where exactly they're going - before reaching a little alcove, hidden by a suit of armor. She looks around before pulling him into it. It's almost curfew and the halls are never that busy when the weather is as beautiful as it has been these days - the end of September seems to be clinging on to the summer for as long as possible.

Her lips are on his before he can even ask her what she needed to talk with him about, hungry and desperate. Sebastian is too stunned to pull away - not that he would actually want to. Her arms wrap around his neck, keeping Sebastian close, slender fingers sliding through his hair.

"What," she says breathlessly between kisses - almost not even moving her mouth away from his enough to be able to enunciate properly, "are you doing to me? I haven't been able to think for the last month."

Sebastian smiles into her mouth, wondering if she knows that she's repeating the very thing he told her two weeks ago. Maybe she has been thinking of him all this time - he almost hopes that she's been suffering as much as he has. Instead of responding, he moves a hand to cup her jaw, deepening the kiss. His other hand moves to her waist, gripping it tightly, pulling her flush against his body and she gasps into his mouth. He slowly moves her closer to the window alcove behind them, snogging her senseless the whole time. She moans into his mouth which just spurs him on further - her skirt rides up to her hips as Sebastian trails a hand up her stockinged thigh and they both gasp when his hand reaches skin. Her skin is so, so soft and her breathing gets faster as he continues to caress her inner thigh, closer to the bend between her thigh and her center. Sebastian wonders if she's ever been touched there before by someone else and jealousy flares up inside of him at the thought.

In one swift move, he scoops her up and places her so that she's sitting on the window-ledge, the dusky light of the sunset illuminating her from behind and making her wispy flyaway hairs a golden halo around her. Sebastian's breath catches in his throat - has he ever seen anything so beautiful as her in that moment? - she's staring up at him, her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, her breathing shallow and anticipation in her eyes. "You're," he starts saying and his throat goes dry. He brings a hand up to tuck the errant lock of hair - the one she had tucked earlier in the library - behind her ear and she leans her head into his touch, closing her eyes briefly before looking up at him again with wide eyes. "You're perfect."

She smiles faintly and pulls his head back down towards hers and now she's brushing her lips against his, teasing him, before it's too much and he grips the back of her head, holding her in place as he crushes his mouth against hers in a bruising kiss. Her knees are on either side of his waist, and she desperately grinds her core against his throbbing erection and they both groan at the friction. Sebastian moves his hands down to her thighs again as he kisses her, slowly caressing his way up and pushing her skirt up further until it's completely bunched around her waist. She gasps into his mouth at his first tentative touch after he pushes aside her undergarments. Sebastian swipes a finger up her slit, through the slick that coats it, and then he starts circling her clit with slow, even strokes. She shivers against him - at his touch - clinging tightly to his shoulders and gasping into his mouth as he continues.

Every little noise coming out of her mouth, feeling how wet she is, how the slickness keeps growing growing growing makes Sebastian hungry for more - it isn't enough -

Slowly - so slowly - he wants to savor this moment - he lowers himself until he's kneeling between her legs and he looks up at her. Her face is deliciously flushed, all swollen lips and hair in a wild cloud around her face and all she can do is stare down at him. Her chest is heaving and she tries to close her legs - hide what is exposed to him - but he holds her thighs firmly in place on either side of his head. He turns his head and kisses her inner thigh, maintaining eye contact as he swipes his tongue across where he's just kissed, moving closer towards her slick center.

"Oh," she breathes, not-quite-a-word, not-quite-a-gasp, when his mouth reaches her center and hovers over it, lips slowly teasing her the way she had just teased him. Sebastian tentatively runs his tongue up her slit; the loud moan she lets out when he reaches her clit makes him stay there, applying light and not-so-light pressure in equal measure.

Her hands are scrabbling at his hair, digging into his scalp, ruining his earlier attempts to make it look presentable, hopefully attractive, for her these days. She's pushing his head deeper into the space between her legs, starting to rock herself slightly on his mouth, and Sebastian is happy to oblige. He eagerly laps up her slit, and the obscene wet noises as he continues combined with her whimpers and barely-spoken profanities "oh-yes-fuck-yes-there-please-" are making him hard beyond belief. He's straining against his trousers, begging to be let free. Without moving his face from her, he unbuttons his trousers and starts palming himself, using the slickness weeping out of the tip as lubrication.

She's abandoned all control at this point, grinding herself into his face as he laps her up, and it's driving him wild - knowing that he's doing this to her - causing her to be so undone. Normally she's so poised and aloof, never letting any real emotion flicker across her face, so to see her so desperate and needy and wanting him so -

Sebastian's gasping into her, tongue deep inside of her, "ohmygod" he hears her whisper, her hips driving into his face when she shudders and goes still, pulsing around the tongue that's deep inside of it. He slows down, smiling as he continues to run his tongue up her slit until she's responsive again. He kisses her inner thigh and hears her moan before getting up, caressing a finger down her love-struck face and leaning his head down to kiss her deeply. With his other hand he's still touching himself - the thought that she can taste herself on his tongue driving him crazy - and he starts rubbing its blunt head against her swollen clit. She takes it out of his hand- he groans at the feeling of her soft hands (the hands he had held a week ago in Divination and pictured doing this exact thing) tentatively caressing his length before she begins to slide it up and down her slit, coating it in her wetness.

Sebastian has surrendered all control to her - resting his hands on either side of her hips on the windowsill, tucking his head into the crook of her neck and thrusting with her movements as he loses himself in the sensation of sliding through her slick folds. He can feel his release building building building, and when he finally comes, all over her perfect, pink center, it feels like a finally.

Sebastian feels so, so heavy as he pulls his head away from her shoulder, as if he could fall into a blissful sleep right there, in the little window alcove where they've hidden themselves away. The sun has now set completely and they're in shadow as they stare at each other, the sound of their ragged breathing filling the tiny space.

"Sebastian, I..."

She's staring at him with an unfathomable expression on her face, still holding him in her hand, her other hand playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. They look down and he feels his face heat up even more at the mess he's made - he quickly pulls out his wand and cleans her up, before looking back at her, giving her a wry smile as he buttons up his pants and helps her off the ledge. "What did you want to talk to me about, again?"

She gives a slight shake of her head and looks away, but she can't hide the small smile that's growing on her face just like she can't help her eyes that keep wandering over to his. He knows the growing smile on his face matches hers - did that really just happen? She reaches over to lace her fingers through his as they walk around the suit of armor. "I - it's not important."

"Come on," he says, not being able to resist the opportunity to tease her - he's somehow managed to break through the barriers she's set up around her, and he's not about to let the opportunity slide. "Surely that's not what you had in mind when you..."

Sebastian trails off as he sees the expression in her face turn to one of horror - he didn't think his teasing was that bad, was it? - but she's also pulling her hand out of his like she's been burned and -

He follows her gaze, to where it's fixed at the end of the hallway and he knows that once again his face mimics hers. He will never live this down.

Standing at the end of the hallway and looking like two cats who've just found a huge dish of milk, are his sister and Imelda.

Misery.

Complete and utter misery are what she's feeling, if she has to put it into words, which she does. Writing things down always helps her out, helps her organize her thoughts into some sort of order. Except...this time around, it's not really helping. She can't seem to make any sense of her feelings for Sebastian.

She looks over the muddled mess of words she's written down - stream of consciousness, incomprehensible babble - and sighs. She's been dreaming of falling in love since she was a young girl - Jane Austen will do that to you - and can't believe that now that she's had her opportunity, it has to go and be with Sebastian Sallow. Because it has to be love, hasn't it?

There can be no other explanation for the painful way her stomach twists itself up whenever she catches a glimpse of him these days, the way he's consuming her every thought - even when she's dreaming she can't escape him. She can't get the sight of his tousled curls between her legs, his mischievous, warm brown eyes looking up at her as she had the most mind-numbing, toe-curling orgasm of her life - none of the times she's touched herself have ever come close to the sensations he managed to evoke.

Every time she's walking through the hallways between classes and hears his loud voice as he jokes with Garreth, or Ominis, about quidditch or Merlin-knows-what her eyes snap to his face as if he were the sun, and she a sunflower searching for its warmth. And he is most decidedly not the sun. He has the tendency to snort when he laughs, and he laughs too much, especially at his own jokes. Sometimes he talks while he eats. He always twirls his quill between his long fingers in the most annoying way, splattering ink onto any parchment unfortunate to be caught underneath. But he also...

He also always goes out of his way to prepare Ominis's Potions ingredients (why Ominis decided to take and was accepted into NEWT level is a mystery to everyone), occasionally stops to play a round of gobstones with Zenobia when he has the time. Sebastian can often be found in his favorite armchair in the Slytherin common room, resting his face on his hand as he idly flips through the pages of some book, looking altogether too handsome as he does so. And when he stretches and yawns at the end of every Arithmancy lesson - like he is now - his shirt lifts up a bit and she can see a tan sliver of his stomach and -

Snapping in front of her: she blinks and looks over: when she sees it's Imelda her face immediately turns beet red and she grabs the paper she's been doodling on and rips it to shreds as fast as she can.

"Are you fantasizing about a certain annoying someone?" Imelda asks with a wicked grin, dramatically looking over her shoulder at the certain someone in question. He's still stretching, blinking sleepily; when he notices the two girls watching him he flushes deeply. Her stomach twinges again at the sight of him noticing her - has he thought about her since that moment as much as she has? What would she do if he had? Or...if he hadn't? - and she focuses instead on the paper she is currently destroying.

"Imelda," she hisses, glaring at her best friend, "stop."

Imelda does not stop.

Imelda doesn't stop during their walk to Herbology, and she does not stop as they set up their planting stations, and she most certainly does not stop as they mutter charms over their plants.

Ever since she experienced the most wonderful moment in her whole life, followed by the most mortifying, Anne and Imelda have not stopped pestering her about it. They've finally solved the 'Sir Cadogan Puzzle' - I knew it was you all along, claims Anne - but if they truly knew what had happened between her and Sebastian, she's afraid the two of them would simply combust. She loves them dearly, but they never know when to stop, and they've been pushing and poking and prodding her for more information the whole week. She has managed to remain tight-lipped and, she hopes, mysterious about the whole thing, but she's getting tired of the teasing.

"Really," Anne says, wiping her forehead and leaving a trail of dirt behind, "if you would only talk to him, I would stop bothering you. Promise."

"Yes," chimes in Imelda, on her other side, wrestling the leaves of her own plant into submission. "You know, after we saw the two of you holding hands and looking at each other with stars in your eyes, I'm really starting to doubt that you hate him as much as you claim."

"Were the two of you snogging in secret all of last year too? Because, I'm starting to get annoyed thinking of all the times I had to talk to my brother for you because of your stubborn pride."

Does she still hate him? She certainly thinks she should, but then her thoughts get terribly confusing as she continues to think about him, and she realizes all of her old hatred has long since faded. Anne has forgiven her brother, Ominis has forgiven him, and all that remains is her.

They should talk, but she doesn't know what to say.

She's afraid that maybe the man she's been inventing in her mind this past month is simply a figment of her imagination - a fictitious being created by an accumulation of stolen glances when he doesn't know she's watching, someone who all of their classmates seem to like, someone who is very different from the fifteen-year-old boy she had that terrible argument with all that time ago. Maybe he doesn't actually exist.

She would be crushed if he's hiding the fact that he still holds on to that desperate darkness that had driven him to save Anne by any means necessary.

And so she keeps her space. She watches him from afar, feeling the hatred slowly melt off of her, falling more in love every day, but too cowardly to make the next move.

Anne and Imelda continue bantering on either side of her, not noticing - or, more likely, not caring - that she isn't participating.

Sebastian's hands are sweating. He wipes them on the inside of his robes as he glances at the girl next to him. She's holding herself rigidly, but she did this to herself, sitting next to him at dinner as she had.

Well, sitting next to him hadn't been completely her idea if he's being honest. He'd been having dinner with Anne, and the two of them were dying of laughter as she recounted seeing Duncan Hobhouse get tormented by Peeves earlier that day. One moment, Anne had been demonstrating what she had seen using her potatoes and green beans as props, and the next, a particularly evil grin had lit up her face as she pushed her plate away with gusto and jumped to her feet, calling her over.

"It would be such a shame for these potatoes to go to waste, seeing as I have a very important meeting to attend," Anne had said, after pushing her friend into the very tight space at Sebastian's side. "Never mind the mess, I can assure you I didn't actually eat the food..."

And with that, Anne had flounced away, Imelda on her arm, the two girls cackling to each other as they snuck wicked glances over their shoulders at the couple.

A couple who is now steadfastly avoiding each other and trying their hardest not to even brush elbows. Sebastian is altogether too aware of her presence, has been for the better part of a month, and his patience is dangerously close to snapping. He keeps getting maddeningly close to finally getting her to open up to him - had actually achieved it for a few blissful moments - just to have it be taken away again. It's almost embarrassing how many times he's thought about their encounter. She had been everything he'd been dreaming about and more - soft, responsive, just as desperate as him - so why has she been avoiding him so thoroughly?

Yes, he's caught her staring at him more times than he can count, with that same unfathomable expression she had before, almost dreamy - wistful - could it be love? But he knows that it's preposterous, wishful thinking on his part. If it were love - if she felt the same crazy, tumultuous emotions that he was feeling constantly - she wouldn't be so cold towards him. Even if she was staring at him more than ever before.

He doesn't notice as she slips a folded paper into the book sitting next to his plate, but he does notice that she sits next to him for barely five minutes, not even touching the food that Anne has so graciously left her, before she gets up and slips away without so much as speaking a single word to him, or even looking in his direction at all.

Sebastian's sitting in a nearly empty common room after curfew, flipping through his book as he normally does this time of day, when she sees him pause.

Although she's been waiting for this moment, watching him from the corner she's tucked herself away in, she feels ready to pass out from nerves. Her heart's ready to burst out of her chest as she watches him curiously pick up the letter she slipped in his book earlier, brow furrowed. She wrings her hands nervously as she watches him read the letter and flip over the page to see if there's more, and then he goes back to read it again from the beginning.

She wasn't expecting him to read it a second time, let alone a third time, still with an inscrutable expression on his face. Maybe she should have positioned herself closer so she could see every emotion flickering through his face as he reads - she's too far away to see anything and she curses her lack of foresight. If she moves now, he'll see her, and she doesn't even know what she was thinking when she wrote the letter, when she managed to convince Anne to help her get close to Sebastian earlier that night during supper, when she moved herself to sit in this corner just so she could watch him find and read the -

"Hello."

She nearly jumps out of her skin with a muffled shriek at the sound of his voice so close to her. Why does she feel almost guilty when she looks up at him? She's so, so afraid.

Emotions have never come easily to her. Showing them is something she's not sure will ever come naturally - Anne and Imelda can laugh and shout without a care in the world, but she always holds herself back. Hides a small part of herself away, that only she knows about. Baring herself completely to Sebastian in the letter she feverishly wrote the day before was like ripping out a part of her soul and giving it to him to keep. Once the words were written down, there was no way to take them back, not that she wants to.

But what if he rejects her?

Her eyes get hot and tears cloud her vision as she stares up at him, still wringing her hands together over and over, feeling like she's positively going to burst with the force of the emotions roiling around inside of her. Why did she think this would be a good idea?

Now he's kneeling in front of her, holding her hands in his bigger, rougher ones - reminiscent of that fateful day so long ago in Divination when he had flustered her so - and a thumb is gently wiping away the big, fat tears she didn't even realize were rolling down her cheeks and she lifts her face from watching their intertwined hands and gazes tremulously into his eyes.

They are so, so gentle and warm and full of love, but the emotions are still too much for her and she can't stop crying for some unfathomable reason, so the kiss they share is wet and lovely and full of incredulous laughter.

"I love you too," he whispers between kisses, over and over again, until the words almost lose meaning - but these words could never lose their meaning when they come from him.

  In the years to come, they always bicker about who was the first to say it. Sebastian says that writing doesn't count - that his words are the ones that decide who is the victor in this small argument - but she always just smiles at his insistence, knowing that he's kept her letter tucked inside whatever book he's reading since it first fell onto his lap.

[griddlebait]

since i couldn’t post the new chapter to celebrate the one year anniversary of sckl and a few of you said you wanted to read it, i'm sharing the first scene of chapter 25 below the cut.

(keep in mind that this is before beta-reading and final edits so a few things might change when the chapter is posted!)

Just past one in the morning, Gideon quietly let herself into her apartment. She carefully placed her shoes on the rack and tiptoed through the living room, assuming that all of her roommates were either asleep or trying to get there, but she soon noticed a dim, fuzzy glow emitting from the kitchen. Not all of her roommates, then.

Harrow was sitting on the counter with the refrigerator left open in front of her so she didn’t have to turn on an overhead light. Gideon wasn’t surprised; she caught her like this every now and then, most times eating individual ingredients or cold pasta straight from the tupperware container or chugging all the water she’d forgotten to drink that day. Tonight she lacked that manic, starved alleycat quality to her movements—she was looser, relaxed, nonchalantly glancing over her shoulder and languidly straightening her posture at the confirmation of Gideon’s presence—but Gideon still spotted a cup of water clutched in her hand when she rounded the bar. 

“Where have you been?” Harrow asked the moment Gideon reached the line between carpet and tile.

“Am I in trouble?” Gideon whispered back sarcastically.

Harrow’s fingers idly tapped against the plastic cup in muted, arrhythmic thumps. Her voice was curiously hoarse as she said, “That depends on where you’ve been.”

Gideon didn’t know what that was supposed to mean, but it warmed her face and prickled her skin. “I was downstairs with Nona,” she elaborated automatically. “She asked me to help her pick out her nail polish colors. And we watched the Ghostbusters movies. And then fell asleep by accident.”

Harrow stared at Gideon. She blinked. She dropped her eyes. Then she said, “okay,” and there was slight resignation in the drooping of her shoulders, an audible settling in the quietness of her voice. She looked down into her cup as if the water inside was suddenly supremely interesting. 

“So … am I in trouble?”

Harrow didn’t look up. “I suppose not.”

The air between them thinned out like a window had been opened and Gideon realized, feeling unlike herself, that she’d gone in the wrong direction. She was supposed to play along and make up something ridiculous yet interesting, like that she’d actually been out at a leather bar with Ianthe getting into fights for fun. She should have given Harrow something to at least roll her eyes at, but she didn’t, and the moment passed, and it was already too late. 

That kept happening these days. Gideon tried not to kick herself too hard about it this time. She wasn’t convincingly dressed for a leather bar anyway. 

Harrow turned to set her cup down on the counter, allowing Gideon a better view of her face. She looked almost as if she’d just rolled out of bed: her cheeks held a curious flush in the yellow light and the ends of her hair were sticking to her forehead and temples, the rest of her grown out buzz cut tousled and poking up in random places. Her expression was blank and tired and gave absolutely no hints at what she was thinking about, so Gideon attempted to read her body language, lowering her eyes and—and—

And Harrow’s arms were extending upwards and curling behind her head in a lazy stretch, and that movement sent her shirt riding up on her stomach to reveal more than a couple inches of bare skin. Gideon privately remarked, her mind growing a bit foggy and distant, that she had never actually seen Harrow’s stomach before.

Which wasn’t a big deal. Stomachs were super common. So were belly buttons. There was no reason to die of shock at the non-revelation that Harrow had both a stomach and a belly button. It was just that every inch of her skin that Gideon had seen before now had been empty and blank—naturally speaking, anyway; Gideon had given her wrist a permanent blemish that summer—and, although it wasn’t as if she’d thought about it specifically, Gideon kind of assumed that the rest of Harrow’s skin would be equally as plain. So even if everyone had a belly button and it was neither impressive nor profound that Harrow also had one, Gideon found herself momentarily transfixed by the small dark brown speck just to the left of it. A freckle, or a mole, or a birthmark, Gideon couldn’t tell with the distance and lighting.

It seemed impossible that you could know someone for their entire life and still keep finding things to learn about them. Gideon thought it was wildly unfair that it had taken nearly twenty-one years for her to discover this very simple fact about Harrow, and then she wondered if something could even be considered a discovery if it had already been discovered by someone else. She found this to also be wildly unfair.

She blinked so hard rainbow flurries danced behind her eyelids and she narrowly avoided physically shaking her head to clear her thoughts like an Etch-A-Sketch. Harrow was totally oblivious to the attention and finished her stretch, dropping her arms to her sides; her shirt slid back down until there was nothing but a thin sliver of skin above the waistband of her pajama pants left exposed. 

The refrigerator was safer to look at. They ran out of orange juice this morning. Cam probably added it to the grocery list already.

“So did you stay up just to get on my ass about coming home late?” Gideon asked. Her throat felt strange.

“No,” Harrow said. After a brief stretch of silence, each word lulling with hesitation like she hadn’t quite decided if she actually wanted to say what she was in the middle of saying, she tacked on: “I was with Camilla.”

That made sense. That explained—yeah. Okay. Not really information Gideon needed to know, but okay. Waves of disappointment rolled through her chest, embarrassment following soon after. She’d been mostly joking—Harrow never needed a reason to stay up—but it was unwelcomingly humbling to be told that no, Harrow hadn’t been waiting for her, and in fact had been plenty busy with somebody else. 

The fact that Gideon had been doing the same thing in a different context, and the question of how much that context mattered and why, were such fleeting, whispering thoughts in the back of Gideon’s mind that they might as well not have been there at all. 

"What, you guys don't have sleepovers?" she asked, her voice supernaturally relaxed as opposed to the unsteadiness she felt internally. 

“No,” Harrow said, and Gideon already knew that. 

"Guess I’m special then,” she pressed because she couldn’t help herself.

“You’re—Yes. You are unique in that.”

That, too, confirmed what Gideon already knew. She still felt better for hearing it. 

Harrow’s leg brushed against Gideon’s elbow as she slid off the counter, but she didn’t seem to notice. She stepped forward and shut the fridge, casting them into a darkness that was only salvaged by streaks of moonlight slipping through the curtains, and turned back to Gideon drenched in shades of gray. 

Gideon wasn’t sure what she expected—nothing, really, she wasn’t expecting anything. It was her body that pulled taut with unnamable anticipation when Harrow looked her in the eye. It was the briefest of glances, and Gideon still could not maintain the contact; she unsteadily cast her gaze anywhere else. Harrow stepped past her to leave without letting the moment linger.

“Goodnight, Griddle.”

Gideon exhaled, her body sinking as if she’d been released. Harrow didn’t notice. She was already halfway through the living room. That was as much of a relief as it was a disappointment. 

“Goodnight,” Gideon replied a beat too late. Refusing to let herself watch Harrow go, she settled for listening to the sound of her footsteps grow quiet and distant. 

[buwheal]

Mr. Spamton, have you ever tried sewing before? The patterns some people draft up are bamboozling to the mind, for sure...

-Silly woman who tried, but only managed to stitch together lopsided "pillows" from t-shirts and stuff them with cotton balls

[carpetbug]

welcome to the beginning of my ML Feline Blue AU!

in which Marinette is forced to become guardian before ever wielding a miraculous. Chaos ensues when she uses the black cat ring to become feline blue and through a silly little turn of events, Adrien gets his hands on the ladybug earrings and becomes beetle rouge

BIIIIIG thank you to my lovelies @isabugs and @thimbleb3rries for being so kind and encouraging, for their WONDERFUL ART OH MY GOD, and for beta-ing this!

The beginning: Becoming Guardian

1 • 2 • 3

“You’re not going to beat me like that, old man” The looming figure taunted.

Hunched in a ball before him, a much smaller elderly man struggled for breath. Blood trailed from his mouth, combining with his saliva to messily drip from his lips as he fought for air. Just by the effort he had to put into continuing breathing, he could tell this was not a fight he could win. Still, his fists clenched in defiance as he pushed himself from the floor and steadied himself upright on his feet. His spine screamed in protest and searing pain at the task, but he managed to remain standing.

“I know I can not beat you, old man” He coughed, hands trembling slightly. “But I must continue to fight”

The taller man scoffed before taking a step forward “I’ll make sure it's the last thing you ever do, you pathetic excuse of a guardian” He spat, tightening his grip on his cane as his rage boiled beneath his skin.

“I’d expect nothing less from a villain like you, Hawkmoth”

“No need to act like you’re so much better than me. After all, we've all made mistakes, haven’t we Master fu” Hawkmoth sneered.

“Leave my past out of this. I’ve worked to fix what I have broken, you only aim to destroy” Master fu panted, feeling his shoulders to check if his bag was still on his back, and letting out a small sigh of relief when he felt the thick material. Next his hands slowly traveled to support and feel the bottom and sides of the bag, searching for an object. He took another relieved breath when he felt the item's weight, and then he prepared himself for the worst. Bunching his muscles, he sprang into action and bolted away from Hawkmoth.

He focused only on moving forward, getting as far from this wretched evil as he could before time ran out. When he finally collapsed, legs giving out from under him in pure exhaustion, he found himself at the Pont de Arts, above the seine. Hawkmoth was nowhere to be seen, but master fu knew that was only a false sense of security. The villain would find him soon enough. He needed to find someone. Anyone.

“-ir? Are you okay?”

A voice. Master fu looked up, vision shaking just slightly. In Front of him stood a teenage girl, dark hair pulled back into pigtails and eyebrows pushed together with worry.

“Sir? Can you hear me?” She asked with a panicked look in her eyes. “How can I help?” She stepped closer and offered him a hand.

Master fu gathered his strength to pull his bag from his back and carefully draw open the zipper before reaching in to pull out the contents. The girl watched intensely, eyes following his pained movements. He pulled a large dark wooden box from the bag and held it close to his chest, then brought his eyes upwards to meet her face. “I’m sorry, young hero” He said sadly, then joined his hand to hers before she could respond.

An intense feeling washed over him, and he closed his eyes to take a deep breath. This girl was strong. He hoped she will forgive him for the burden he will make her bear.

She flashed an anxious smile “That’s okay, and I promise I’m no hero. Just a normal g-” He cut her off with a sharp tug, then slammed the box into her chest. She gasped as he knocked the air from her lungs, clearly not expecting such a feat of strength from the battered man. As she fought to breathe, Master fu gathered the last few remnants of his strength and lifted the girl from the ground. “I, Wang Fu, hereby relinquish the Miracle Box-”

“Stop! What are you doing!?”

“-and name Marinette Dupain-Cheng the guardian” His body lit up, skin glowing as the box between them lifted upward and burned like a star in the air.

“How do you know my na-?!” Before she could finish what she said, the box dropped back into her hold and the elderly man -still glowing like some sort of deity- held her over the railing and dropped her into the rushing water below. She hit the surface with a loud splash, getting thrown under but quickly resurfacing a few feet away, miracle box still in her arms.

The last thing she saw before being pulled away by the fast moving current was the man falling backwards to the ground in exhaustion as the light emitting from his skin dimmed.

Master fu slowly blinked his eyes open, carefully taking in his surroundings with an expression of pure shock and confusion on his face. He seemed so frail, all of a sudden. Like he had lost all his fight.

“What did you do?!” a booming voice hissed behind him. He started to turn his head to look, but something beat him to it. All of a sudden, a hand tightened around his throat and picked him off the ground, nails digging into the thin skin of his neck.

“What- what’s happening?” Master fus strangled voice hardly escaped his lips. He tried to thrash his legs, do anything to get free, but a fatigue he couldn’t explain had overcome his muscles. Weakly prying at his attackers hands, panic began to set in. There wouldn’t be any escape. “Who are you?” he managed out in a pained mumble.

“I am the next guardian of the miraculous” the seething voice responded as nails began to break through his skin. “I am the consequences of your greatest mistake” the words rang through his head as his vision went black, and sickeningly warm blood poured from his throat.

Marinette struggled to hold her head above the surface and keep the container in her grasp as the river pulled her this way and that. Her mind raced and her lungs screamed, everything inside her begging to let go of that weird old man’s weird old box and save herself instead. Still, her grip remained glued to the sodden wood, as if she would rather drown than set the box free to face the waters’ wrath. Nothing was making any sense. And despite the deafening chorus of the racing water that surrounded her, the only thing ringing in her ears was the man’s words.

He had called her a hero. He had entrusted her with something clearly important to him. He had thrown her into the seine. He had been badly wounded. He had been a complete and utter stranger. What did everything mean? Suddenly, her feet felt solid ground beneath her, and she hurriedly moved to follow it. She pushed forward, focusing on reaching the bank that lay on the other side. Eventually Marinette was able to pull herself and the box from the water onto an empty platform beneath a bridge.

As soon as she was safely out of the water, Marinette threw herself backwards in exhaustion. She laid against the cool pavement underneath her and passed through all the events that had just occurred. What the fuck was this ‘miracle’ box? And why was she the ‘guardian’? Ignoring the new aches in her body, she sat upward and brought the box closer to her.

There she sat for a few moments, toying with the lid and gently tracing the intricate pattern displayed. Taking a deep breath, she slowly opened it.

“HELLO YOUNG MASTER” A loud chorus of voices rang out as a beam of light emitted from the open container and what looked like small differently colored masses of stars flew all around her. Marinette fell back onto her elbows, overwhelmed at the sudden sensory overload. Her vision was a blur of nauseating colors accompanied by what she could only imagine to be auditory hallucinations.

Before she had a chance to speak, to catch her breath or try and scream for help, the almost magical colorful masses slowed until they were still, then began to morph into a solid form. Marinette watched, intrigued and terrified, as these small creatures took shape in front of her. They each seemed to be a different animal, though they all shared an alien-like anatomy. Some had tails, others long whiskers and a few antennas. Two of them caught her eye, a sleek black cat and what she thought to be a ladybug (though it looked much more like some sort of bug-mouse combo).

As if the creatures could read her mind -which they could, for all she knew-, they began to speak in sync. “WE ARE THE KWAMI, MAGICAL BEINGS THAT CAN BESTOW POWERS UPON OUR WIELDERS.” They said, in an almost sing-songy voice.

“AND YOU, MARINETTE, ARE OUR NEW GUARDIAN.”

[caelanglang]

Living Longer

a message for someone on the edge…

from the waters of the sea, to the sands of the beach, to the concrete of the city, to the floorboards of your home — i hope you’ll be proud of yourself for living longer.

[moeblob]

What if I straight up didn't explain myself? What if I just said trust me on this? Would you?

[padfootagain]

THE FIRST DRAFT IS DONE!!!!!!!!!!

I'm crying, at this point...

The first draft of the Prof!AU Love in Verses is officially done!!! All 44 chapters are complete!!!

The posting schedule will be posted next week!!!

[stanfanfiction]

Taste of You - Ken x fem!reader - PART 4.5 (BONUS)

So I had initially planned to have a double dom!/sub! Chapter where Ken and the reader switched roles halfway through, but I decided I wanted them separate despite them happening back to back. SOO if you haven’t read the first part you can find it in my Masterlist, otherwise have fun and I hope you enjoy <3

Warnings: 18+ ONLY / smuttyyy smut / fingering / dom! Ken / desperate Ken / praise k!nk / / smut / reader might be slowly losing her mind but she’s fine with it / kinda some non-con but reader is into it / spanking / edging / overstimming / this one goes harder than any of the chapters before so, if that might be intimidating or possibly triggering for you, tread softly. Always take care of yourself first <3

Alrighty. Have fun, besties. 🖤🖤

“Hey.”

Ken's voice broke through your sleep, and you blinked your eyes open. The room was bright with the day's sunlight, and you had a moment of struggle to come to, you had been so deeply asleep.

The moment your eyes adjusted, you looked up and saw Ken beside you, kneeling, his cock looking painfully hard and a smirk on his face. You attempted to move but realized your wrists were bound above your head tightly, and you saw Ken's fist clenched around a leather belt in his right hand. You sucked in air sharply, already overwhelmed when you hadn't even been fully awake a whole minute ago.

Ken leaned over you now, your mind racing as he stared down at you, kissing you lovingly before nipping at your lower lip and running the belt gently up your thigh.

"Now," his words made you already want to tremble, "it's my turn."

You tried to sit up but he had definitely made sure your restraints wouldn’t budge, and your mind raced on how to get out of this, not being ready for anything this quick after waking up.

Ken *was* ready though, and he ran the belt from up your thigh to your stomach, and you squirmed.

“What word do I need to listen for to stop?” He said, voice husky, his face inches from yours as he leaned on his arm next to you.

“Ken -“

“Not that one, I won’t allow it. I *want* to hear you say that.”

“No, no, Ken, I need you to let me out for a little while.”

He watched you and you pleaded with your eyes. “Please? Just let me wake up a moment, get some water?”

He ponded for a second but then agreed, untying your wrists and you sighed when you had your hands back to yourself. “Thank you.”

Ken helped you off the bed and trailed behind as you went to the kitchen for a drink. You were having a bit of a deer-in-the-headlights moment, kind of self conscious and not quite sure how to react to Ken right now, who, despite always having a bit of a rough side to him during sex lately, seemed like he was going to go way harder than before. Which you liked but you *were* actually anxious at not knowing what all he had in mind, and the fact that he might have developed a playful vendetta after last night.

You jumped a little after filling your cup with water, turning around to see him standing so close to you, you weren’t sure how you didn’t brush against him when you turned. He wore his black denim pants - the ones you had told him you thought made his ass look the best - and was shirtless, like usual.

He nodded towards your glass impatient. “Drink.”

“I’m working on it.”

“Mmmm, okay, well work faster,” he reached for you and tickled your waist a little while smiling, which made you laugh and jump and you spilled the water on both of you, but mostly on Ken.

He smiled and let out a small chuckle, then wrapped his fingers in your hair and brought your face forward to his now wet chest. “Drink.”

You looked up at him through your lashes, feeling playful. “And what if I refuse?”

He cocked his head. “I don’t remember giving you the option of ‘No.’” He pulled your face to his skin and you licked up one of his pecs where the water was still dripping off. Ken inhaled sharply, eyes closing for a moment as he let himself experience your mouth on his body. You kept your eyes on his face as you slowly worked your way down his abs, kissing and licking any trickles of water left, and Ken moaned quietly, keeping his hand in your hair.

You reached for his cock but the moment your hand touched it, he grabbed your wrist, eyes open and looking down at you now.

“I didn’t say you could do that.”

Well THIS was definitely new, but you decided to have fun with it. You smirked as you leaned forward to to take him in your mouth but instead Ken tugged on your hair, encouraging you to stand up. You looked at him and pretended to pout. You saw him soften a bit, especially his eyes, and he had the look he always got before he would tenderly pleasure you for what seemed like hours until you would drift off together. You reached for his cock again, though, and that seemed to snap him out of it, like he remembered what it was he had planned to do.

“I said, I didn’t give you permission to do that,” he said in your ear as he folded both of your arms behind your back, elbows bent, both of your arms being held together by his large hand. He began marching you back to the bedroom briskly, forcing you chest-first onto the bed, bent over with your feet still on the floor.

“Ken,” you giggled. “What are you planning to -“ you were cut off with a sharp pain on your ass, Ken having smacked you unexpectedly with the belt. You screamed when he did it again before you could take a breath, Ken holding you down onto the bed, his grip around your arms bruising.

“You gonna be a good girl for me?” He purred, and the sound of him repeating his praises back to you made you knees buckle.

You shook just a little from the sudden assault, shocked at how much you actually were enjoying it. You wondered if you should play along or tease him, and the latter got the better of you. You turned your head as best as you could in your current position, your eyes twinkling as they met his.

“What if I don’t want to?”

You saw a hint of amusement in Ken’s eye before he brought the belt down on you again, and you jumped, back arching from the mixture of pleasure and pain.

Ken leaned over you now, his partial body weight pushing you further into the bed. “That’s alright. I’ll just have to make you.”

You moaned loudly at his words and Ken stood again, continuing his lashing from before. You were trembling a little when he hit the fourth lash, and your knees buckled by the sixth, the sensation so much sharper and intense than it was when he’d use his hand.

“Ken, please -“ you choked out as the belt came down again, and he paused, hearing the way your voice cracked a little.

He leaned down over you again, hand still holding your arms hostage. “So you gonna be good for me, y/n?”

You nodded, unhappy with how quickly you had relented, but also desperately needing some time to recover.

“Mmmm,” Ken hummed, smiling, and gently placing a kiss on your ear. “I love you so much, y/n.”

You breathed as a warmth filled your chest as he stood up, then landed two more harsh lashes on your ass. You screamed, and he released your arms finally, you grasping the covers to hold onto something but also to deal with the pain.

Ken took both of you ass cheeks in his hands and massaged them gently, admiring his work, watching your body tremble and hearing the little whimpers coming out of your mouth.

He gave you a moment to recover, your head spinning, as he forced open your legs with his own, standing between them. He held your hips while he kissed softly down your back, enjoying the little shivers that happened because of his touch, and once you had calmed down a little, he stood up again.

You felt the belt run alongside your vulva and you clenched. “Oh, shit, Ken, no, please not -“

“Shhhh, shhhh,” he soothed. “Not this time. Just wanted to see your reaction.”

You felt one of his fingers enter you then, his other hand holding down your lower back.

“No moving,” he said, and you bit into the sheets beneath you to maintain some form of mental control as he immediately found your special spot and began rubbing his finger in circles on it. He added in another after a moment, and you left out a soft moan but remained as motionless as you could.

“You’re actually way better at this than I was,” he mused. “I actually prefer you moving all you like.” He leaned over your again, kissing the side of your neck. “I just wanted to see how well you could obey.”

“I’ll get you back,” you exhaled shakily as Ken’s fingers sped up, pressing into your spot *just* right.

Ken smiled against your hair and kissed the side of your head. “I’ll look forward to that,” he said, continuing finger fucking you until he knew you were close.

You expected him to edge you on like you had to him, but right when you were about to climax he added in a third finger and fucked in and out of you *so* perfectly that you cried into the covers as you came, Ken humming and complimenting you the whole time.

“You’re so good to me. You stretch around my fingers so perfectly, y/n. Always cumming to make me happy. Always letting me do whatever I want with you.”

Your exhaled loudly as you were coming down, still mildly dizzy from so much sensation so quickly, but before you could ground yourself fully, Ken kneeled between your legs and held you open for him, firmly licking a stripe from your clit up to your opening.

You gasped, feeling incredibly sensitive and you struggled against his hold.

“Need a moment,” you begged, trying to pull yourself away, but Ken didn’t let up, talking to you in between sucking and licking and little nips.

“I don’t remember you letting up when you were trying to exhaust me,” he said cheekily, and if you’d had the energy you’d have kicked him away.

“My sweet y/n can take whatever I give her, right?”

“Shut up,” you groaned, slowly losing the ability to control your body.

“You’re so wet for me.” He put three fingers back in you for emphasis, and you cried out, bucking into them unintentionally thus causing them to penetrate you deeper.

“I can’t…I can’t, please, ah…” Your voice was losing its usual volume and quivered on the last moan.

“I think you can.” Ken sucked hard on your clit again, and you sobbed, begging him to give you a break until your legs gave out and Ken caught you effortlessly, all fight left in you gone.

“How does it feel to be exhausted by your lover?” He purred into your ear, your naked body limp in his arms as he sat you onto his lap on the bed. “How does it feel to be completely under my control?”

Your head lolled back onto his shoulder, and you moaned an answer incoherently. Ken turned your chin gently to him and kissed you deeply.

You felt yourself being picked up bridal-style and placed down onto the bed, your head resting on the pillows, your body relaxing into the mattress. You opened your eyes as Ken lowered himself on top of you, propping up on his forearms, and running his fingers along your face, kissing you tenderly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he mumbled into your mouth. “So perfect. You always let me get lost in you. I love it so much.”

Your brain and body started feeling connected again after awhile, Ken loving on you gently the entire time, making sure you felt surrounded by him.

You sighed in relief when you felt fully back to reality, despite some sleepiness settling in. You laced your hands behind his neck, and returned the soft smile that he gave you.

“Hi.”

He kissed your forehead. “Hi. How are you feeling?”

“Tired.”

“But good?”

You giggled. “Yes, good.”

He smiled bigger. “Good.” He took your hands in his. “I”m going to need these.”

“Ohhhh god, oh, god, uh, Ken, Ken wait, can we talk about -“

Ken had already tightly imprisoned your hands in the pantyhose rope you had made the night before, and was fastening them to the headboard before you had a chance to physically react.

You tugged at the restraints, and Ken looked down upon you lying there, helpless and flushed beneath him. His pupils were blown and your stomach flipped - oh, fuck, he was *SO* turned on right now.

“Ken, take it easy on me?” You squeaked as he grabbed your hips roughly. He kneeled in front of you and lifted your hips up so your knees hung over his shoulders, your vulva directly in front of his face. He was so tall that you were partially lying upside down, your bound hands making it impossible for you to push or balance yourself on anything.

He winked at you - motherfucker WINKED - and then his mouth was on you, your hip bones held tightly, and you shuddered intensely as he began devouring you roughly.

Ken watched you, trying to ignore how much his cock was hurting right now from straining against its skin, your entire being fully under his power. Your eyes were shut and the noises you were making were spectacular, and he loved how stretched out you were between the restraints and his grip. The only control you really had over yourself right now was what you could say because your body was already so tired that you couldn’t even try to get your legs off of his shoulder.

“So fucking sweet,” he said, pulling his mouth back just long enough for you to get in a deep breath, and then he was consuming you again, tongue gliding and poking and tickling every inch of you he could find. You yelped when you felt his lips suck harshly on your inner thigh, knowing he had marked you, and then shook when he repeated it on the other leg before dipping his tongue back into you.

“Ken,” you started begging again. “Please.” Your voice was becoming a little hoarse, you had lost all track of time and had no clue how long this had been going on.

“Yes, y/n?” He breathed dreamily, like he was in heaven, going back to lazily circling your clit with his tongue.

“I can’t-“

“Yes, you can, and you will. You still owe me one more after this one.”

Your eyes shot open. “One..one more?”

His eyes shone, his mouth still on you, and he winked again.

Something about all of that - the sudden knowing that he wasn’t going to stop until you’d climaxed three times?!, the look of pure adoration on his face being buried in you, and how hot this entire scenario actually was despite how dizzy and exhausted you were - hit at once and you came hard. You hadn’t expected it and you cried out loudly while Ken continued pleasuring you until you began to come down again, heaving loudly, tiny sobs escaping your lips as your eyes leaked.

Ken lowered your hips back to the bed and kissed you deeply, your juices mixing with his saliva, and his tongue ran against yours and your lower lip. He moaned into you loudly, cradling the back of your head with his hand until your breathing calmed and he stopped kissing long enough to look down at you.

“You’re doing so good.”

Tears definitely began coming now. “Please, Ken, I can’t do anymore right now.”

His face showed that he knew you weren’t playing, and that he cared deeply. “I won’t hurt you.”

You nodded, sniffling a little. “I know, I’m just….I wasn’t expecting this much.”

He kissed you deeply again, just one time, and smiled down at you. “I won’t do anymore until you’re ready.”

To your surprise, he reached up and untied your hands, kissing each one as he let them free, then kissing around your wrists where the minor imprints from the hose had rubbed in a little too tightly.

“Ken,” you breathed, “can we like, do the last one later?”

He lifted an eyebrow. “I said I won’t do anymore until you’re ready.”

“What if I’m not ready until like, later tonight?”

He smirked. “I don’t think that’ll be the case.”

“Ken.” You squirmed underneath him, and unfortunately your hips moved into his *just right,* because his eyes closed and he groaned from the back of his throat.

“You’re making it really hard to let you recover,” he almost huffed, his eyes dark, and the way he was looking down at you gave you the most intense, weirdly submissive desire you had ever felt. His broad shoulders attached to his slightly strained neck, his chiseled arms and pecs and abs around you, on top of you, those blue eyes dangerously dark, his hair looking that perfect just-woke-up messy.

You whimpered at the sight and the feeling of him, just…everywhere around you, and he sucked in a sharp breath hearing you. You knew all hope was lost then.

“Ken,” you whispered, your hand cradling his face the way he loved, and he leaned into it and hummed the same way he always did. “Just…please be gentle.”

“I’ve got you.” Ken pulled you a little father down the bed, just below where your head touched the pillows, and unzipped his jeans, ridding himself of them quickly. You weren’t sure if you had ever seen his member looking that strained before, and you shuddered, trying to prepare yourself. He towered over you as he pulled both of your legs up and apart, resting your ankles by his face so as he bent over you, your legs were being pushed back to leave you completely open for him.

You had the slightest moment of panic, from where you weren’t sure, other than you had never been this overwhelmed from sex before.

“Please don’t hurt me.” The words escaped your mouth before you knew it, and a tear streamed down your cheek.

Ken looked at you, forcing his face to calm down so you saw him as he always wanted you to see him, as someone who loved you. He kissed right above one of your ankles. “I would never hurt you.”

He wanted to take you then, bury his cock into you roughly and you would scream his name is ecstacy and you would cum trembling and falling apart completely and you would adore how he could make you feel this way, but he paused, realizing you needed a little more care before he could continue.

Hooking your knees over his shoulders again, he lowered himself over you, and you gripped the sheets, waiting for him to penetrate you. Instead, he took one of your nipples into his mouth softly, moaning as his lips just barely sucked on it, his tongue tracing circles around it that made you shiver, but he watched you as the tiniest of smiles ghosted across your face, your eyes closed, and he knew he was on the right track.

Your moans sounded so soft and sweet as he did this to your other nipple, your body relaxing and after a bit your hands running through his hair, which *he* loved.

Your breathing returned to normal, he touched his forehead to yours. You opened your eyes and immediately became lost in his.

“Hi.”

You giggled a little. “Hi.”

He watched you closely as he lowered his hips into yours, his cock rubbing alongside your vulva, and you jerked the tiniest bit from the sensation.

“How is that?” He asked, doing it again, a little harder.

He was going to wait for your reply but wanted to test something. “Think you can take it for me, like a good girl?”

He was enthralled when your mouth dropped open a little, your sex-dazed face looking so ready to be fucked, and he contemplated fucking into your mouth for a moment before forcing his mind back into focus.

“Can you handle just a little more?” He pressed his tip into your opening, and you automatically clenched tightly, causing a deep rumble in his chest.

His eyes met yours, dangerous, almost past the point of no return. “You ready to prove who you fucking belong to?”

Your eyes went wide as he bottomed out in with a single thrust and you both moaned in unison, your nails digging into his arms, your head back.

Ken leaned down to suck on your throat right before his second thrust, as swift and harsh as the first, and he swore if he didn’t want to make certain you came again that he would lose it within a matter of seconds. You pulsed around him, so warm and tight, and he growled as he began to fuck into you, making every thrust count, as you cried out every time he bottomed out into you, leveraging your legs so you were unable to do anything other than lay there and try to breathe.

“Ken,” your mangled cry caught his attention but he didn’t stop his movements.

“Need more, y/n? Need some more, like my good girl?”

He leveraged himself above you so instead of your hips meeting horizontally, he pushed your legs back so your hips were slightly off the bed and you were held open for him to sink into almost vertically.

He sunk directly into you, your legs straight and resting on his shoulders, his hands on either side of you holding himself up, and you screamed and fisted the sheets over your head.

Your body began to tremble now, and you had no control over it as the pain of being penetrated so deeply got mixed with how fucking *GOOD* it felt too, and watching Ken being the one to do this to you whenever you felt you could keep your eyes open for a moment made it all the better.

You *did* feel really overwhelmed, though. The dizziness from before had returned and was slowly threatening to take over completely.

You must have shown signs of distress because you heard Ken speaking over you, although not letting up on his thrusts. “Hey,” he soothed, “are you okay?”

“I’m…overstimulated..” you choked.

“Mmmmm…” Ken ponders this, leaning down so his hips were literally touching your own. “Do you need me to stop?”

You shook your head quicker than you had expected to, and if you had been looking you would have seen Ken smile. You felt his hot breath caress your ear before biting your lobe.

“You can take it for me, though, can’t you?”

If you had been asked to describe the next few minutes you were never would have been able to, as your senses became thrown into what you could only describe as chaos. Ken fucked you, held you, sucked on you until you were shaking uncontrollably, your voice hoarse. You swore you heard him speaking but couldn’t make out any of the worlds, your head swam so dizzingly with trying to comprehend the overstimulation.

Tears fell down your face when your orgasm hit, and you screamed to be able to get through it. You might have made it up but later on you thought you remembered hearing Ken whispering, “I love you, fuck, I love you so much, y/n. Fall apart for me,” as your body was racked with pleasure so intense it touched on being painful.

Ken immediately came after, his final few thrusts destroying you as he finally lowered your legs back onto the bed. He kept his cock buried inside of you as he lowered himself back over you, forearms on either side of your head again, and kissed you and praised you endlessly as he surrounded your trembling body.

“I’ll get you back, you fucker.” Your words were hoarse and breathy.

Ken laughed at your threat, and you managed a small smile despite your exhaustion. “I know you will,” he said, nuzzling his nose into yours.

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Tags: @microwgreen @skeletonea @sunpuffsstuff @maxcsworld @michaelslover @mk21-k @uncle-eggy @heyareyoulistening @cliffbar-booth @ervas-venenosas @stuslover @exo-wayv

Comment below to be added to my tag list, especially if you’re excited for Jealous Ken ;)

[oneluckydragon]

✨🌸 Sunshine on your skin, flowers in my soul 🌸✨

🌊🫧Summary → In the midst of his reconciliation with Team Wish, Dusknoir begins coughing up flowers. This unfortunate brand of bad luck should be a cosmic joke. A spiteful punishment that the world has brought down on him out of malice, out of vengeance for his past deeds. A cruel, agonizing curse manifested with the single unjustified purpose of preventing him from realizing happiness, ever seeking redemption, ever righting his multitudes of wrongs and moving on with his life. But that's not true, and he knows it deep down. Knows it in the very core of his soul like the flood of petals building in this throat.

This is his fault because he is a coward, and that's all he has ever been. A backstabbing, lonely coward.

And now he is going to die because of it.

[AO3]

[CH. I -- Word Count -- 13,290]

🌒💫 Return → the act of going back to a place, person, or memory

[CH. II -- TBA]

[smilesrobotlover]

AO3

First <<Prev Next>>

Chapter 3- Trip to Kakariko

It was dark outside by the time everyone was done with supper, and they all sat around the couch, speaking quietly while Kori began to doze off on Midna’s lap. Link watched them with a smile, his heart warm from having his family together again.

“Say Link,” Uli started, eyeing the sleepy birthday boy, “do you have any gifts for Kori?”

Kori’s eyes snapped open and he sat up, causing the adults to all laugh. “Gifts? For me?”

Link chuckled. “Well Kori, ten years old is a big deal. I figured that you should get a gift for this year.” Kori straightened his posture and excitedly listened to Link, which made him chuckle. “We figured that we could visit Kakariko tomorrow and you can pick out something from one of the shops there!”

Kori gasped. “We’re going to Kakariko tomorrow?”

Link nodded and Kori jumped with excitement. Midna giggled and hugged him close, but Link couldn’t help but notice a hint of sadness in her expression.

“We leave early in the morning,” Rusl said, ruffling his grandson’s head, “so you should get some sleep. You look tired anyways.”

Kori looked up at Midna and she nodded. The two got off the couch and bid their farewells to the family while Link got his lantern ready. Rusl followed the small family out of the house, and when they reached Link’s home, Rusl stopped him.

“Link, I need to talk to you about something,” he muttered, and Link looked at Midna and his son who stared back at him. Midna nodded at him and took Kori upstairs, leaving Link and Rusl alone.

“What’s going on, pa?” Link asked after a moment of silence, and his father pulled out a crumpled letter. Rusl handed it to Link and he read it, using the lantern to light up the words on the rough paper.

Dear Rusl,

I hope this letter finds you well, and I hope that you are able to share this with the hero. There have been a concerning number of disappearances across Hyrule, and I wish for you and the resistance to look into it. A woman from Kakariko village and a Goron from Death Mountain were among the missing, and I hope that you and Link could investigate their disappearances to find any leads. The others are investigating the other regions of Hyrule.

Meet me at Telma’s bar in a week from now to see if you find anything.

—Sheik.

Link frowned as he stared at the letter. He looked up at Rusl who was watching him intently, a serious look on his face.

“Huh,” was all Link was able to say.

“Luckily we’re already heading to Kakariko tomorrow, we can investigate the missing people from there.”

Link nodded, staring at the words on the letter in shock. How did he not know about any of this? He’s the hero of Hyrule. Even though Ganondorf was defeated so long ago, he still had a responsibility to Hyrule and its people.

“So! We’ll spend our time doing that while we get Kori his gift, alright?” Rusl said when Link stayed silent.

Link let out a heavy sigh, and Rusl rested his hand on his shoulder.

“Get some rest, we have a lot to do tomorrow.”

Link nodded. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight son.”

Link watched as he went towards the village, and he walked towards his own home. Midna was snuggling with Kori who was dozing off in her arms, and she was humming a tune. Her bell-like voice rang through the air, and Link smiled as he watched her rock Kori back and forth. When she finished the song, she glanced up at Link and tilted her head.

“Are you gonna sit down, or will you continue to gawk at me?”

Link snorted and walked over to her, kissing her temple.

“If you don’t mind, I’d love to gawk at you all night. I missed you.”

Midna giggled, and kissed his nose. “I missed you too.” She smiled as he sat down next to her, and rested her head on his own. “So what were you and Rusl talking about?”

Link sighed, the small, blissful moment making way for the anxiety he had from him and Rusl’s conversation. “He got a letter from the resistance, apparently there’s been some disappearances throughout Hyrule. We’re going to investigate it when we go to Kakariko tomorrow.”

Midna frowned. “Well, that’s not good. Do you have any idea what’s causing these disappearances?”

Link shook his head. “I honestly don’t know the details, I just know that a goron and a woman from Kakariko are among the missing. So me and pa have some work to do.” He stared at the door blankly as Midna grew silent.

“How many missing people are there?” She finally asked, and Link shrugged.

“I don’t know the details, Midna. But according to the letter that was sent to pa, it’s been a lot of people.”

“Goddesses…”

The two were silent for a long moment as Kori snored silently. Link reached out and tucked a stray hair behind his ear. His little boy’s eyes fluttered open, and he looked at the two confused.

“Hey kiddo, why don’t we put you to bed,” he whispered as Kori stared at him with sleepy eyes. Kori nuzzled his head into Midna’s neck and groaned.

“I don’t want to leave mommy,” he whimpered, and Midna gave Link a teasing look.

“My, he’s turning into you,” she said, and Link tilted his head.

“How so?”

“Always staying up late so you can spend every second with me?”

Link rolled his eyes and leaned away. “Ok ok, well we should put Kori to bed anyways. His little body needs sleep for healthy development, yeah?”

Kori grumbled and turned his head away, and Link chuckled, pulling him off of Midna.

“Come on kid, you can barely keep your eyes open.”

Kori groaned and hung onto Midna, who was pulling him away from Link. Link gave her a look and she grinned at him.

“He can stay here just like this Link, it’s his birthday!” She pleaded, and Link rolled his eyes, letting go. Kori quickly snuggled back into his mother and she began to rock him back and forth.

“You can carry him to bed then Midna,” he said as he sat back down, and Midna giggled at him.

“You’re lucky your father is such a softie, Kori,” Midna teased, and Link raised an eyebrow.

“You’re just as soft as I am.”

Midna smiled and they rested their heads against each other again as Kori fell asleep again.

“So, are you going to Kakariko with us, Midna?” He asked after a moment of silence.

Midna didn’t say anything, and Link looked up at her, his eyebrows drawn together.

“You’re not coming?”

“I– there’s something I need to talk to you about, Link,” she said quietly, “it’s why I was so late today.”

Link sat up and gave her his full attention, and she shrunk away a little.

“What is it, Midna?”

“Um… things have been getting… intense in the twilight realm. It was a miracle that I was able to get away when I did but… they want an heir, and they want her now.”

Link stared at her for a moment as the words sunk in, and his eyes widened in realization.

“Oh,” was all he was able to say. Midna let out a loud sigh and rested her head back.

“They’ve picked the guy that I’m gonna have the child with, and I just wanted to talk to you about it first. I’m not asking for permission, but I feel like you deserve to know.”

“I see.”

“Look nothing will ever come of it, after the child is conceived I won’t talk to him again because I hate him but—“

“Midna,” Link interrupted her, “it’s ok. I get it, you don’t need to explain yourself. I figured this time would come eventually.” he stared at Kori who was fast asleep in Midna’s arms. He remembered what happened when a half Twili was the heir. It was for the best that she gave birth to a fully fledged Twili, in order to ease the people’s minds. He stroked Kori’s hair with a smile. “I trust you Midna.”

Midna let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you do.”

“What are you gonna do when she’s born? Is she gonna come here with you?”

Midna frowned. “I don’t know. The light world is bearable because I have the fused shadows, but I’m not sure how it will be for her. I also don’t know how I’ll explain her to your parents. They might think that I’m… not loyal to you or something.”

Link was taken aback. “Oh… they won’t… they wont, don’t worry about it.” Midna gave him a look and he shrugged. “It wouldn’t be an issue if you told them that you’re the queen of the twilight realm. I’m sure they’ll understand.”

Midna shook her head. “No, Link. They already know too much. It’s for the best that they don’t know who I truly am. I don’t want them to get hurt.”

Link sighed and rested his head against hers again. “Alright, fine. So I assume you’re not going to Kakariko then?”

“No, I can’t. I’m sorry Link.”

“There’s no reason to apologize. I understand.”

Midna smiled warmly and kissed him. Link smiled and kissed her back, lingering on the kiss for much longer. Midna pulled back and gave him a look.

“I know you and Rusl are leaving at the crack of dawn so don’t even bother staying up late.”

“I’ll be fine, I’ve had sleepless nights before.”

“Yeah, and you nearly fell apart from them.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Midna giggled and started stroking his hair, humming a tune as she rocked both Link and Kori back and forth. Link smiled as he listened to her pretty voice, his eyelids starting to get heavy at Midna’s soothing voice and touch. Despite him trying to fight sleep, he eventually lost the battle, and he fell asleep peacefully in Midna’s arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Movement in his arms woke Link up. He opened his eyes and stared at the little boy snuggled up next to him confused. Clearly, the little light from the rising sun was beginning to bother him, but despite that, he stayed snuggled against Link’s chest. He smiled and rubbed his back, which finally got Kori to give up on trying to sleep. He looked up at him with sleepy eyes and smiled.

“Hi, papa.”

Link smiled and kissed his forehead. “Hi kiddo, can’t sleep?”

Kori shrugged. “I’m not tired.”

“Sure you’re not, you just can’t keep your eyes open.”

Kori nuzzled his head into the pillow and groaned at Link, resulting in a chuckle from him. Link ruffled Kori’s hair, then looked around. Midna wasn’t here, and the house felt more empty without her. He understood why she couldn’t stay all the time, but goddesses he wished she could. As if he read Link’s mind, Kori lifted his head and looked around.

“Is mommy not here?”

Link frowned, pulling him closer. “No, she had to go back home.”

Kori pouted. “But… she just got here!”

“I know, but she needed to deal with something.”

“So she’s not going to Kakariko with us?”

“No, unfortunately not.”

Kori’s little ears drooped, and he sat up, pulling his knees to his chest. Link watched him sadly as he stared blankly at the wall, and he sighed.

“Shall we get ready? We don’t want to keep grandpa Rusl waiting for us.”

Kori nodded silently, and he stood up, hopping down the ladder. Link got up as well and started packing enough clothes and supplies for a couple of days in Kakariko. He strapped it all to Epona and helped Kori pack his own things, making sure not to forget his precious Billy the Goat. The sky was a deep orange when he finished, and he heard chatter coming from the village as Rusl and the rest of the village kids entered his clearing, a carriage attached to his pa’s horse. Beth, Colin, Rela, and Malo were hanging off the carriage, and Colin hopped off, greeting his brother by attempting to wrestle him.

“Oh good! Y’all are ready!” Rusl said he got closer to Link, who already had his little brother in a headlock. “I was afraid that I’d have to wake you up!”

Kori smiled and slammed into his legs, causing him to grunt a little, but he still gave him a tight hug. Link chuckled and let Colin go, who pouted at being defeated in seconds.

“We’re ready, pa. Is everyone else good to go?

Rusl looked back at the others who were standing around impatiently.

“Do y’all have everything you need?” He asked them.

“Yep!” Beth proclaimed.

“Yeah,” Malo said.

Rela began to list off all the things she grabbed while Colin gave a thumbs up. Rusl gave Link a nod and rounded everyone up into the carriage. Kori stayed with Link on Epona, though he protested against it, Link promised to make it fun for him.

The group headed out just as the sun was slightly above the horizon, the sky being a beautiful deep blue. It was a lovely day, with hardly any monsters out and about, which made escorting easy. It was relieving to know that his son would be in a world without hordes of monsters threatening him in the field. His efforts in making a peaceful Hyrule weren’t entirely in vain.

Occasionally, Link would have Epona run and jump over different obstacles, which made Kori happy. He even got a little carried away and had Epona sprint towards a pond of water, causing Kori to squeal as he got wet. Rusl called for the two, and Link realized that he was a little too far away from the others. Though they didn’t know what was causing the disappearances, Rusl believed that if everyone stuck together, they would be safe, so Link had to at least stay close to him.

It was evening when they finally arrived at Kakariko. Though the sky was beginning to turn orange from the setting sun, the village was still bustling about. For the past few years, Renado had worked hard at reinventing Kakariko, and it had turned into a lovely little town. Not as big as castle town, but not as small as Ordon. Link had to admit that if he wasn’t so connected to Ordon, he’d probably move here. There was a horse stable where a cave used to be by the spring, and each abandoned building was fixed into homes and shops. Kori’s favorite shop was of course the toy shop, but he was also excited about a new clothing shop that recently opened. Link didn’t know why a boy his age loved clothes so much, but he supposed his abhorrent attitude towards the traditional men’s skirts of Ordon and love for pants had something to do with it. Link hopped off Epona and helped Kori down when he reached the new stable, sadly putting his steed in with other horses.

“I’m sorry girl, I know how much you love to roam,” he muttered, feeding her a sugar cube, which she gratefully ate from his hand, and Link gave Kori one. “You wanna give her a treat?”

“Yeah!” Kori took the sugar cube and held it to Epona with his palm up, which Epona ate as well. Kori giggled as her mouth tickled his hand, and she nibbled for a moment making sure the treat was fully gone. Kori gave her a pat and a small kiss on her nose. “Thanks for getting us here!”

“Ew, Kori kissed a horse,” Rela teased, holding her stuff in her arms.

“I’ve seen you kiss toads!” Kori rebutted, glaring at her. “At least I won’t get warts from a horse!”

“That was one time, Kori!” She snapped, and Colin led her away from the two, smirking.

Link rolled his eyes at the two kids, and grabbed his own things, handing some of it to Kori. “You excited to see Renado and Luda?”

Kori’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! It’s been so long since I’ve seen them!”

“It’s only been three weeks!”

“Yeah! That’s a long time!”

Link grinned as they walked out of the stable, dodging folks that were walking to their homes in a hurry. Link couldn’t help but pick up on the unease. People seemed rather anxious to get to their homes safe and sound, some glancing nervously at the new clothes shop.

That must be where the missing woman lives, Link thought sadly. Kori investigating the new shop would have to wait until she is found. What bothered him the most however were people glancing at Kori weirdly. He was out in public at Kakariko since he was so close to Renado and Luda, but some people didn’t know him, and as a result, they didn’t trust his presence. One lady didn’t hide the fact that she was eyeing Kori suspiciously, and Link wrapped his arm protectively around his son, glaring at the woman. As the group headed to the Elde Inn, Link noticed Barnes fixing his sign in front of his shop, and the two waved at each other.

“Link! Rusl! Kids! It’s always good to see ya!” He called out to them, and everyone waved back at him.

“How’s it going, Barnes?” Rusl called back.

“Oh, nothin’ much! A bunch of delinquents broke my sign though, so I gotta fix that!”

“Are you sure it wasn’t one of your experiments going wrong again?” Beth teased, leaning against the wall of the Elde inn. Barnes crossed his arms.

“It wasn’t an experiment goin’ wrong… not this time anyways.”

Beth laughed and Colin rolled his eyes with a smile.

“Where’s Renado and Luda?” Rusl asked. “We’re about to take over the village with our presence and I want them to know we’re here.”

“Oh!” Barnes glanced at the sanctuary. “Luda is pretty busy right now, bein’ the village’s healer is a lot of work! And Renado is…” he looked around the village and shrugged. “Who knows where he is! He’s constantly runnin’ around the village helpin’ people!”

Link gave a knowing nod. Renado had become the mayor of Kakariko, letting Luda take over his old role as a healer. Though he was a phenomenal mayor, Link could tell that he was a little overwhelmed from such a responsibility.

“Well tell them we’re here, we’re just gonna get a room,” Rusl said, beginning to head into the Elde Inn. Barnes nodded and gave them all one last wave as they all went inside.

It didn’t matter how many times he went inside the inn, the way the place looked shocked Link. He remembered when it was an old and crumbly place, with broken furniture scattered across the floor and dusty surfaces. Now it had a comforting air to it, with a warm light from the candles in the chandelier, the smell of food coming from the kitchen, and people chatting in the main area where comfy looking chairs were. It was a lovely place.

The woman behind the counter kindly gave them a big room for the large group, and they all headed up the stairs, picking their beds inside their room and stretching their legs.

“Let’s go to the shops!” Rela said, after everyone was unpacked. “I wanna see what stuff they have at the toy store!”

“Yeah!” Kori agreed, but Rusl shook his head.

“The stores are probably closed by now, it’s supper time.”

Rela pouted. “Well what are we supposed to do?”

Beth walked up to her and ruffled her hair. “Get supper of course! Hopefully Talo will be here!”

“Oh yeah!” Colin stood up. “Talo should be staying in this inn!”

Rusl gave Link a smile and stood up himself. “Well let’s go get some food and find Talo! Try not to give him a hard time though,” he looked specifically at Beth.

“I can’t make any promises,” she joked, and they all left their room, excited to get whatever was cooking in the kitchen.

[blueteller]

Cale meets Balance

God of Death: Cale, God of Balance wants to meet you Cale: How about no God of Balance:

[cuz-reasons]

Summary: When he arrived in Hisui, he had nothing. Not even a name. He was given the name Nobori. Years later, he finds the name Ingo. Who is he?

It's MY turn to give Ingo identity issues! Also happy two year anniversary to me posting fic!

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

An Unwavering Light - Chapter 2

Rating: T/Teen for violence (in this chapter) 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 Thousand Year Blood War arc. This chapter takes place during the events of the manga from chapters 334-391.

Music to listen to: Recollection I (YT | Spotify), In Remembrance by Evan Call (YT | Spotify), Ceremony Commences by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify), 1130 TYBW full of guitars by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify), Nothing Can be Explained Instrumental by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify), Nightmare by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify) Invasion by Shiro Sagisu (YT | Spotify)

Fic 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?

Chapter synopsis: Hitsugaya loses his focus after Hinamori's sudden appearance on the battlefield and he finds himself turning his attention to the man who started all of this. Hinamori sets out to prove why she is worthy of being the lieutenant of the Fifth Division.

AN: A warning that this chapter is particularly violent, with mentions of severe injuries, including self-inflicted (only for Halibel's fraccion if you remember how Ayon comes into being).

Other than that, this chapter feels like I'm going 'look at all the missing scenes!'. I didn't want this to be a complete a play-by-play for the whole battle (and for the moments I did, I simply to did it either to show another perspective or look deeper into how the character may have felt in that moment), so I found moments where I thought something may have happened. We're only moments away from the pain that is chapter 392/episode 293 ;_;

Hope you all enjoy this!

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

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___________________________________

The crescent moon shone overhead against a starless sky.

Hitsugaya shielded his eyes to make it out. He’d never seen a moon so sharp and bright. Somehow, though, he knows he’ll eventually grow accustomed to it. That it will become as natural to him as the sun and moon in the real world.

Hello, Master.

The booming voice didn’t startle him. He lowered head and hand, but was slow to turn to the towering dragon behind him. Unlike the last few times, the creature doesn’t bring icy gusts of wind or crashing snow with his arrival.

“It’s you again,” is all Hitsugaya could say. He was not in awe or fearful, only confused. What was this creature? Did he have anything to do with the spiritual potential that woman mentioned? “I can understand what you’re saying this time.”

Do you know my name? he asked.

Hitsugaya shook his head.

The dragon lowered his head rather sullenly. You will hear it in time.

"You haven't told me what it is," he said.

I have tried, but you cannot hear it.

Hitsugaya didn't understand how that was possible. Rather than question the dragon, he stared at the ice beneath his bare feet. It’s cold, but it does not freeze him. A landscape like this should have him shivering at the very least, but it’s surprisingly not unpleasant. If anything, it felt liked he belonged here.

The idea made him frown. “What is this place?”

Your inner world. It is where all your potential and power resides, the dragon said.

“And why did you bring me here? Why are you in my dreams?”

You called out to me.

Hitsugaya raised his head. “What do you mean? I never did that.”

You did it without realising. I hear things you cannot. For years now, you have been calling out to me, and I heeded.

“No, you were trying to hurt Baa-chan,” Hitsugaya accused. “Why?”

I did not. That was a result of you not having control of your abilities. I had hoped you would hear my name, and in doing so, harness the power within you. The dragon gave a growling huff – a sigh, perhaps. However, despite the power you have, you are still a child, after all.

Hitsugaya bit back a barrage of arguments, knowing it would get him nowhere. He was also perplexed at the range of emotions this dragon was showing. Before he’d been stoic, but just now he’d sounded disappointed. Still, there’s a patience about him, a willingness to listen to him even when he knew it would get him nowhere. In a small way, it reminds him of the patience of his Granny.

He stared down at his hands. This power the dragon spoke of, did it come from them? If he directed his hands in certain ways, like how Hianamori did when she practiced those weird gestures on her breaks from the Academy, would it he be able to control it?

Without realising, he found his mind shifting, as if focusing on a sense. But this was nothing like the senses he knew. He didn’t see, smell, taste, hear, or physically feel anything. It was a sense beyond those, one that encompassed his mind. It picked up a presence in the land around him and the towering dragon before him. It radiated in icy, invisible waves. It’s immense, so much so Hitsugaya winced as he tried to break out of whatever this was.

With a yelp, he freed himself, but it sent him stumbling back and barely catching himself before he could fall on his backside.

“W-What was that?’ he murmured to himself.

You sensed the power within you. That is only the surface, like what you see immediately here.

He looked around again and noticed for the first time just how vast the icy plain was. It extended beyond what his eye can see, continuing past the horizon into darkness. Frozen trees and hills far as the eye could see, lit only by a small crescent moon.

Hitsugaya shook his head. “What’s my power?”

You will learn that in time. First, you must train. Then, you must learn my name. The more the learn about your abilities and mine, the better control you will have.

“And Baa-chan will never be hurt again?”

No, my power will be for you and you alone to wield.

Shinigami were supposed to use their spiritual powers to protect Souls and Humans from harm caused by Hollows. He’d seen, however, that Shinigami are not the revered figures most children saw them as. Like any adult, they have faults. Like any adult, they could disappoint you.

He raised his hands again, looking at the backs before rotating them to face the palms up. What things could he do with these powers? The same as other Shinigami? He never wanted to become a Shinigami, but it seemed he had no choice. If he stayed in the Junrinan, he would never learn how to control the cold that had nearly killed Granny. And Hinamori would be there at the Academy, at least. He tried to ignore the slight glee that came with that thought.

“How do I learn your name?”

____________________________

When Hitsugaya woke this morning, before the sun had risen and all of his officers were still asleep, he thought about seeing Hinamori. Try as might, he couldn’t dismiss the idea as he changed into his uniform, attended the emergency meeting, or ate a small breakfast, appetite lost at the thought of who he would be facing. Even after Rangiku joined him in the few hours they had left before the battle, he thought to ask his lieutenant to take a detour with him to Fifth Division before they met up with the other captains and lieutenants.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He needed to focus on what lay ahead for them. They weren’t just engaging Aizen in battle, but the Arrancars. He’d trained in the spare time he had to ensure he was better prepared than he had been in the World of the Living.

Hitsugaya would cross swords with Aizen, he would see to it that it happens. Because he would not cut him down out of malice or hatred. He would defeat him for the vow he'd made years ago, and for Soul Society as part of his duties as a captain of the Gotei Thirteen. He had earned the title fairly and without agenda, Aizen had not. He would stand as an example of what captain should be, and against everything Aizen is and believed in.

He would go to this battle as a captain, and return ready to help Hinamori through whatever came next.

Yet, as he and Rangiku had made their way to the Senkaimon, he’d extended his senses to detect Hinamori’s reiatsu. It was stable, much stronger than he thought it would be. He couldn’t help but let out a small, relieved breath. She’ll be safe here, he thought, they can’t get to her here.

It’s why the pulse of her reiatsu is a shock to the system. For a fraction of a second, he thinks he’d imagined it, but it’s stable and remains in the periphery of his sense. He hesitates mid battle, almost earning him a slash from the blonde Espada. He doesn’t have time to look around as Hyourinmaru clashes with her sword.

The Espada holds him there, matching his strength. “Your spiritual pressure was spiked for a moment.”

He keeps his expression neutral. Was this a tactic to catch him off guard? “What are you on about?"

Her gaze narrows a fraction. “What happened?”

He matches it. “I don’t know what you're walking about.”

He releases a flurry of ice, which she lunges away from with ease. At least it put distance between them. More than being perturbed by his opponent’s observations, his chest constricts at sensing Hinamori’s reiatsu is still in the area.

Hinamori…

She’s somewhere behind him, next to Rangiku. She was likely the source of that fiery explosion before that helped his lieutenant against The Espada’s fraccion. Just as he noticed this morning, her reiatsu is steady and strong, perhaps the best it’s ever been. Yet he is reminded of the last time he’d seen her.

Please save Captain Aizen!

He lets out a shuddering, quiet exhale through his parted lips. Why did you have to come?

What’s going on in her mind? More importantly – the very next thought makes his stomach churn and anger roil up at himself for even thinking such a thing – was she here for the Soul Society or for Aizen?

His opponent comes in for another strike, and he’s forced to forget about Hinamori for the time being. If she’s with Rangiku, she should be safe.

___________________________

It’s had been simpler to find the battle than Hinamori thought. It was simpler still to rush around undetected, setting up an invisible kido net that used a combination of the spells around Rangiku and attaching it to her lieutenant’s badge. It’s one of the many combinations she’d come up with while researching and reciting kido chants in her room. Depending on how they faired after this one, she may need to use another. As Genji had said, these opponents are far stronger than any they’d faced, she can sense it from the reiatsu that emanates from them.

Even as she stared down these opponents a few minutes ago, Hinamori couldn’t help but notice Rangiku’s worry in her peripheral. This is why she came here: to prove to her and everyone else she was no longer Aizen’s subordinate. She was the lieutenant of Fifth Division, and she would fight alongside them.

Around them, her fire now extinguishes to smoke. She pants for a couple breaths and a sweat has broken out on her face and arms from exertion and nerves. She inwardly chastises herself for the latter. She has been in many battles, some of which have had months long gaps between them. Why should this one be any different?

“Are you okay, Hinamori?”

“Yes.” She drops a hand from Tobiume’s hilt and turns to look at her fellow lieutenant. She musters up a smile – albeit an rueful one. “I apologise, Rangiku-san. That’s the first time I’ve ever used that king of kido combination.”

Rangiku smiles faintly. “Don't apologise. It was impressive.” She briefly glances at the slowly dissipating smoke around them. “That was Fushibi, right? I’ve never seen it so finely spread out before.”

Hinamori can’t help but embrace the tiny swell of pride cause by Rangiku’s words. She lifts her other hand from Tobiume and gently massages it with the other. “Well…I blended Fushibi with Shakkago. After that, I cloaked them with Kyokko and stretched it out like a net.”

Most of the smoke has dissipated, and she casts her gaze to the horizon. It’s one of the few places where she didn’t see a battle occurring. “I must admit, it was hard to do all of that under these conditions but…” She returns her small smile to Rangiku. “I’m glad it worked.”

At Rangiku’s widening smile, Hinamori dares to hope. Finally, one of her friends’ worry had vanished. She’d proven she didn’t need worry or concern. She can fight alongside Rangiku and the others. Now, she needs to confront –

One of the few plumes of remaining smoke shifts strangely. Then, not even a second after, “Thrust, Cierva!!”

The other two also emerge from the smoke, calling out what sounded like releases for their weapons.

Hinamori’s heart races. “What?!”

She takes in their changed appearance – one has become half humanoid half serpent, the middle one has horns, and the last one had a yellow mane coming from coming from a headpiece. But above all, they looked unharmed.

She shakes her head. “I knew it wouldn’t affected severely affect, but there’s unscathed!”

“They regenerate when they perform their resurrection,” Rangiku explains. “It's their most powerful attack."

So surprised by this revelation, Hinamori doesn’t pay attention to what her opponents say to each other. Both she Rangiku raise their blades, ready for their next attack.

For Hollows, Hinamori had a knack for being able to tell what sort of attacks they will likely use. There was usually a tell, perhaps in something unique about their appearance or in the way they moved across the battlefield. With these three, she has no idea. They’re a species she’s not confronted until now. She wishes she got more intel about them before coming here.

Then, without warning, all three Arrancar each violently rip one of their own arms off. Both she and Rangiku can only gasp in horror, and watch as they throw their limbs into the middle of their semicircle, where they knot over one another, then twirl and becoming a thick cloud of white smoke.

It expands, becoming monolithic and taking the shape of something inhuman.

“Wh-What is that?!” Rangiku stammers.

But Hinamori cannot reply. She has lost her voice, and all she sees is darkness. A strange terror has her in its clutches, one that sends ripples of cold through her and drags her closer and closer to the beast’s eyes that are as black as bottomless pits.

___________________________

A new presence has joined the battlefield. One which gives Hitsugaya pause. He’s never felt anything like it; a dark abyss of energy, one that threatens to suck in anything near it.

He doesn’t chance a glimpse in the direction of the reiatsu, focusing on the Espada as she lunges forward with a particularly hard strike. He deflects it with a grunt, sending her sword off to the right. He takes the chance to stab at her side, but she spins out of the way and comes for his side instead. He twists and blocks the attack, but it leads to them clashing swords again.

Neither budge, pushing their strength and weight into their weapons. There’s faint tremor in his limbs which he pointedly ignores. However, there’s something about the Esapda’s posture too, it’s a fraction more ridged than it should be. He hasn’t been much of a struggle for her up to this point, and surely crossing swords like this was not a challenge for her. Is she affected by this dark presence too?

“What is that thing?” he demands. “It’s come from your fraccion.”

Halibel considers for a moment, simply returning his glare. “It’s none of your concern.”

Before she can notice, he lands a kick in her sternum, sending her skidding back. The beginnings of Hyourinmaru's Shikai are on his lips, ready to use the chain to –

Rangiku’s reiatsu violently spikes up

He freezes, eyes widening at the shock of it. She’s severely hurt, bordering fatally. Matsumoto!

Faintly, he hears someone else scream her name. With a grunt, he realises it’s Hinamori. What’s happening? He needs to --!

The Espada is suddenly in front of him. Her slash at him sends him barrelling backwards, his feet in the air until he forces them to the ground to skid him to a stop. Heart pounding and a bead of sweat falling down his temple, he struggles to return his focus to his opponent. He goes on the defensive against the Espada while he senses what’s happening with the lieutenants.

Rangiku’s is falling, and so Hinamori. Judging from her stable reiatsu though, Hinamori isn’t injured. Again, she calls out his lieutenant’s name. Then, they come to a stop, and as he dodges a strike from Halibel, he sees below them and off to the far right a blur of blue -- some kind of kido net, he can’t tell which – and two figures in the middle.

He barely has time to feel an iota of relief. Not because of the Espada’s attacks sending him away from the view within seconds, but because that dark presence suddenly appears in front of Hinamori’s reiatsu. Only two seconds later, it strikes her.

The impact on her reiatsu is as sudden as Rangiku. She’s gone into shock, and her injures are almost as severe as his lieutenant’s. She’s being propelled backwards.

He almost falls back and drops out of the sky. Hinamori! No!

He quickly straightens and looks back in the direction of the lieutenants. He can’t see them anymore, but there’s the source of the powerful reiatsu. A giant creature stands in the air above the city building, looking like a Huge Hollow but having the height of a Menos.

That all too familiar violent anger boils up in the pit of his stomach. He goes to flash-step to Rangiku and Hinamori, ready to freeze whatever this vile creature was to the bone.

A stab from the Espada stops him. The point of her sword comes dangerously close to his temple, and he barely manages to evade it. Strands of his hair are off, flying into the air.

"Pay attention," she reprimands despite her flat tone. "Their battle is not yours."

Hisagi and Izuru’s reiatsu suddenly appear next to Hinamori’s. The creature hasn’t moved, keeping it’s distance from Hinamori but still far too close to Rangiku.

Can he leave it to them? Does he really have a choice? His opponent won’t let him leave their fight, and he can’t let her attack someone else. With that in mind, it pains him to return his full attention to the Espada.

___________________________

Hinamori can barely breathe. There’s a wheezing sound coming out of her mouth as she tries to get air into her punctured lung. She tries to ignore the coppery taste on her tongue and she’s distantly aware that Hisagi is battling Ayon, but she only keeps her hazy gaze on Rangiku.

Izuru has his back to her, bent over their fellow lieutenant as he heals her. Sweat drips down his face and arms, and his brow and lips are drawn down in concentration. The green-blue kido emanating from his hands stands in stark contract to Rangiku’s paling skin and the light blue of the Tozansho’s prism.

Rangiku’s bones and organs slowly heal, while her flesh knits over itself smoothly and quickly. It’s evident Izuru hasn’t performed this kido in years; the spell is supposed to heal both internal and external injuries at the same pace, but an inexperienced or rusty user ends up repairing one part quicker than the other. Still, it's beneficial, better than her bleeding out.

Without warning, Izuru goes rigid and twists to the looming threat approaching them with booming steps. Hinamori forgets to breathe. Where is Hisagi? Had he been defeated by Ayon?

“H-He’s coming!” Izuru says, more to himself. “I’m almost finished, I just need a little more time.”

The kido beneath his palms stutters out for a moment. Hinamori is about to call out to him, when a hole of blood appears in Ayon’s chest. When she notices the Captain-Commander, she doesn’t know whether to be scared or relieved.

Izuru stumbles over his words in the older man’s presence, who lectures him in return. She loses focus, not able to keep up with what they’re saying. A wave of dizziness and cold suddenly overcomes her. Has she lost too much blood? Or is this from pent up anxiety?

She rests her head against the kido beneath her, but turns her gaze back to Rangiku. She’s still taking shallow breaths, and her shattered ribs and injured organs are sealed over by skin. She’s safe for now, but it won’t be long until she’s back to being on the brink unless Izuru continues to heal her.

“Izuru-kun…” Hinamori rasps out.

She’s not sure if he heard her. A darkness creeps in around the edges of her vision and a fatigue sets into her limbs. Her eyes become hooded, trying to resist closing them all together. Something escapes her lips, but she can’t tell if it’s a slurry words or a just a sound.

Izuru becomes a blocky blur, but he twists around to her. Before she falls into the darkness, there’s a loud, terrifying roar, and as she shuts her eyes, she thinks she hears Izuru say, “I’m going to move you and Matsumoto-san! Hold on, Hinamori-san!”

___________________________

Hitsugaya spins away from another missile of water. It splashes hard into the top of a building, caving in the roof and several floors before pouring out on to the streets.

He stops flapping Hyourinmaru’s wings and flattens them, sending him gliding lower. The Espada is stronger than he anticipated, and he hadn’t understood her battle strategy before. She shoots with waves after wave of water he can easily dodge. However, as he soars over the streets, the collecting waters gave him the idea. She’s waiting for water to build up.

To think he would face an opponent like her. They can wield the same element but in opposite states. Had Aizen brought her here to face him for that very reason? There’s something that feels almost predetermined about their fight he can’t shake off. Nor can he forget how she’d threatened the Captain-Commander.

“I will avenge their deaths.”

He glances over his shoulder. She’s gaining on him, fast. She draws her weapon back, and his eyes widen at the yellow glow that builds up on the blade.

“Cero.” She slices the air, sending the beam in an arc. He flash-steps away, but not quickly enough. One of Hyourinmaru’s wings is cut in half, and he has to quickly find somewhere to land. He goes to the first rooftop he sees and lands on it’s balcony. The railing is slick with water, as are the walls beneath and the power-lines above it.

Another of Hyourinmaru's flower petals breaks apart. Considering the attack he’s come under just now and for how long he’s been in the Bankai state, he’s doing better than he anticipated.

In the back of his mind, something bothers him. Reaching out his senses, he curses under his breath. Izuru and Komamura’s reiatsu are close by – so much so Hitsugaya is confident if he looks over his shoulder right now he would see them be able to clearly make them out from this distance. Next to them are the weaker reiatsu of Hisagi, Rangiku, and Hinamori. He takes what little relief he can that his lieutenant and childhood friend are both safe and no longer on the verge of serious injuries. Still, the way Hinamori’s reiatsu flickers and wanes, is worrisome.

He wills his expression to neutral, but find himself fighting off a deepening frown. The Esapda has her back turned to him still, but she no doubt sense him. Based one how this fight has gone, he’s confident she won’t attack the others; she seems focused on finishing their fight first.

“Your tactics are strange,” he comments, drawing her attention. In his peripheral, Hyourinmaru’s wing regenerates; he needs to stall until it’s completely reformed. “But I have a feeling why that's the case. I'm guessing we're both waiting for the same thing to happen. For this battlefield to fill up with water, allowing either of us to strike a killing blow.”

She says nothing, and her expression remains impassive. Still, it’s all the confirmation he needs to say his theory was right. He’d said to her before one should save their greatest tactics for the greatest moments of crisis. Given who is not too far away from them and how the battles around him were going, he needs to help shift the tides in the Soul Society’s favour. Given her strength, there’s only one ability he had that can vanquish her at this point. What if it affected the others somehow? He's never --

"Are you concerned for them?"

He grunts, returning his gaze to her. "What?"

"Your allies just over there, are you concerned for them?"

At his lack of an answer, her expression briefly breaks into something reflective. "Right now, you have a choice to either sacrifice them or make yourself a sacrifice to save them. Regardless of what you choose, either you or they will carry the moment you made a choice forever." She raises her weapon, once again becoming stoic. "Choose carefully."

What was this? Is she trying to unnerve or goad him? He shakes it off, choosing to see this as a threat to those behind him.

“Fine. There’s no use both of us waiting.” He raises Hyourinmaru, and more to himself than his opponent, he says, “I’ve never tried this while in Bankai, but you leave me no choice."

“What are you talking about?”

Hyourinmaru’s wing is almost regenerated. He doesn’t have to stall her for much longer. “To tell you the truth , I don't need to wait for water to gather. Hyourinmaru is the ultimate ice-type zanpakuto.” He fully faces her and grips his zanpakuto with both hands. “All water is my weapon.”

The Espada lets out a quiet, startled sound and her eyes widen at the sky as what he meant dawns on her. The clouds darken and rapidly gather above them, blocking out the sun for half of the battlefield.

With Hyourinmaru’s wing back to its full form, he launches himself from the railing and shoots back into the air, coming to level with her. “The whole sky is under my control.”

“What is this?”

It’s most emotive she’s sounded. He thinks to just initiate the attack and not tell her; given the circumstance, it might the smartest strategy to use. However, he finds himself uncomfortable with the idea.

He goes on to explain his abilities to her, and she only listens, not moving to strike him when she has every opportunity to do so. Is she accepting her fate?

When he comes to the end of his explanation, he pauses. He was not blood thirty or a lover of fighting like Kenpachi, but she’s been a worthy opponent, the strongest he’s faced in decades. Then there was her threat to Captain-Commander that won't leave his mind…

“What is your name, Esapda?”

As if his words take her out of a daze, she schools her expression to impassive again and looks down at him. “I'm Espada Tres, Harribel Tier.”

“I’m Captain for the Tenth Division, Hitsugaya Toshiro.” He raises his blade. “Are you ready?”

___________________________

Both Hinamori and Izuru watch as the clouds part and form a circle above the Espada. The that snow descends in a cascading rush through the hole makes both of them gasp. It’s so glaringly white, she has to squint to still see Hitsugaya and his opponent, who goes to make an attack against his. It’s useless; the magnitude of the avalanche is something no one can fight off.

“I-Incredible,” Izuru murmurs, stunned. “What…What is that ability?!”

“Whatever it was, he risked much doing it this close to us,” Sajin comments, failing to keep the alarmed tone out of his voice. “But then, he didn’t have much of a choice.”

Within seconds, the snow rapidly transforms into a tower of spiky ice. It resembles a pillar of flowers, piled on top of one another as though growing from hundred of vines snaked around a column. The Espada is nowhere to be seen, likely trapped within the ice.

The clouds begin to thin and the sun returns, but Hinamori frowns when she notices Hitsugaya hasn’t moved away. He remains close to the ice tower, zanpakuto lowered. Is he gazing into the ice to check his opponent is there?

Eventually, he turns, lingers for several more seconds, then flies off. He's heading towards them. For a moment, she wonders if he’s coming to check up on them. However, he angles himself higher into the sky and passes them overhead. She loses sight of him and she can't help the tiny pang that pricks at her heart.

“Shiro…can.” She barely realises she’s said the nickname aloud.

It’s been so long since she last saw him, and now she’s only gotten to see him from afar. That will change after this battle is over, she’ll make sure of it. Whether he’s angry at her for coming to battlefield or happy to see her, she’ll find him after all of this and thank him for protecting all them.

A whimper comes from her left. She lolls her head to the side. Rangiku has her eyes shut still and her brow furrowed in pain, but her breathing is normal. Izuru has done the best he can, but Hinamori hopes Fourth Division will arrive to battlefield sooner rather than later.

On the thought of her friend, she tilts her head downward to look at him. He’s kneeling over Hisagi, working on his internal injuries. The Ninth Divison’s lieutenant is still conscious at least, but he grimaces as he’s being healed.

Izuru's forehead and temple glisten with sweat, and there’s a small tremor running through his arms. He’s getting fatigue. Soon, he won’t be able to keep this up without hurting himself.

“Kira-kun…”

“I’m almost done here,” he says, slightly clipped.

“Are you all right?”

He lets out a grunt, and finally his eyes reach hers, wide with bewilderment. “What? Why would you ask that?”

“Don’t…push yourself –” A cough interrupts her, causes a fresh trickle of blood to run down her lips. The pain returns afresh, and she winces as it explodes through her chest.

Alarmed, Izuru looks between her and Hisagi. She wants to tell him to focus on Hisagi, but at the former’s nod towards Hinamori, Izuru deactivates the kido and rushes to her side.

“You’re the one who shouldn’t be pushing themselves,” he warns, before activating the kido over her torso. The relief comes quickly, soothing the pain into smaller waves. Her breathing remains shallow, not able to take in full breaths.

Her gaze slips to behind Izuru’s shoulder. There’s the pillar of ice, which Hitsugaya has returned to. He's comes out of his bankai state, but his posture is one of vigilance. He watches the battle unfolding around the area, looking for a moment he can strike perhaps.

Further away, Yamamoto’s flames burn in a circle of high walls. Hinamori tries and fail to not detect the reiatsu emanating from behind the fire.

She looks at Izuru. “Have you seen any of them?”

He picks up on the implication quickly. His brows fall into furrow. “No, just sensed him.”

She can’t help but let out a relieved sigh. “I hope…you don’t have to.”

The corners of his mouth tighten. “Yeah…I hope so too.”

The spike in his reiatsu says otherwise. There’s a hint of anticipation there, buzzing along the weighed down whirl that is his reiatsu.

He hesitates as he deactivates the kido over her. They both wait for almost a full minute for another coughing fit or for her pain to return.

“Where’s Abari-kun?” Hinamori asks in a whisper.

“He and Kuchiki-san went to Hueco Mundo.”

“Why?”

“I can’t say for certain, but likely because their Human friends went there to save the girl that sided with Aizen.”

Hinamori frowns. If she’s a traitor, why would they go after her? An answer comes to the surface, one she desperately wants to dismiss. Are they like herself? Unable to accept the truth about someone they thought they knew? Or perhaps this girl is innocent in all of this, and had been tricked by Aizen into following him. Perhaps it’s the fatigue weighing her down or the last embers of hope, but Hinamori wants to believe the latter is true. “I hope Abarai-kun and Kuchiki-san are all right.”

Izuru doesn’t respond. After a beat, he tilts his head to the side, pensive. “Why did you come here, Hinamori-san?”

She blinks. She shouldn’t be surprised by the question, but perhaps it’s because it’s coming from Izuru. A part of her had thought he’d understand without having to ask.

She lifts her gaze to battles happening above them in the distance. “I couldn’t stay behind. I had to be here, it’s a simple as that.”

He doesn’t raise his head. “You’ve always been like this.”

With how flatly he says it, she can’t tell whether it’s a fond observation or a critique of her character. “How do you mean?”

He shakes his head and shifts over to Rangiku. With his back turned, she can’t tell how he feels. “Nevermind.”

She wants to say more, but finds herself speechless. Is he disappointed that she came? Are there others who feel the same?

She watches the battles unfold, first with victory of Soi Fon over her opponent, and the battle between an Espada and Kyoraku and Jushiro.

Terror grips her as the sky splits a new Espada arrives with a fearsome, gigantic creature. The new Espada injures Jushiro and with a yell, breaks the ice encasing Hitsugaya’s opponent. Near her, Izuru goes rigid, his wide-eyed gaze solely on the events unfolding above them and the kido cast from his hands over Hisagi stuttering away to nothing.

He begs Komamura to go join the fight, but before Komamura can respond, a sounds comes the creature. It moves out of the split in the sky and comes to loom over the circle of fire. Pursing it’s lips, it blows a current of air flames, reducing them to streaks of smoke within seconds.

Hinamori forgets to breathe. Her vision is becoming increasingly blurry, but she can clearly distinguish Aizen. He’s there. He’s really there.

Izuru lets out a choking sound. In the end, he did see his former captain afterall. Despite their earlier interaction, she wishes she could stand by his side and they could help each other through this.

He falls forward, barely catching himself with his hands on the ground. “This is really the end!”

It must be. What can they do against Aizen? She came here and show he doesn't have a hold on her anymore, that she is worthy of carrying her title. In the end, she has ended up injured and scared.

And then, without warning, a new presence joins the battlefield. No, not just one, several. It's enough to pull Hinamori out of the spiral that threatens to engulf her. She barely registers the new arrivals, her senses so hazy she can’t quite distinguish each reiatsu from the other. There’s something strange about them. They’re Shinigami, but there’s something else within them.

She searches the sky, finding a group wearing clothes from the World of the Living. They’re directly confronting Aizen and the other former captains. Who are they? Are they on their side?

Perhaps her panic has gotten the better of her or her bewilderment is so great that she's lost her mind, but she can't help but feel an inkling of hope.

___________________________

The winds were harsh, screeching in his ears and threatening to push him over. It was the coldest it’s ever been on the frozen plains, it even burned the soles of his feet. Still, he remained standing. Still he kept his eyes closed. Still he gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to raise his arms and block the wind from biting into his face.

He focused on the power of this place, burling around him like a blizzard. This was his, even if he didn’t fully comprehend it. He knew it had to be his. Only he can wield it.

He cursed and opened his eyes. The dragon towered over him, watching Hitsugaya, unflinching as a statue. He could hear him speaking, voice as loud as a thunder clap, but like all the other times, the words are lost in the wind. He listened, really tried to listen.

“Your name is…Your name is!”

He hissed out a frustrated grunt. No matter how far he tried to reach for it in his mind, it always slipped from his grasp. He’d been training this whole time learn it, and yet it had only taken him so far in learning his zanpakuto’s name. Was it that the dragon did not trust him with it?

He’s at his limit. The desperation clawed at his heart, twisting and clenching it. Where else could he go? This power was his. He wanted it, needed it…

He flung his gaze up to the dragon’s. “There are things I want to protect with this strength and power!” he yelled over the wind. “That’s all I will ever use it for!”

The vice around his heart squeezed even more, causing him to let out a strangled gasp. If he didn’t have this power and strength, how can he possible help those who helped him? How can stand by Hinamori’s side? How can he --?

It came out him as a scream, one that soared above the winds and plunged deep into the ice below his feet. “I want to protect her!”

There was a flash. Not before his eyes, but somewhere within him. Something like a locked door finally opened. One that had always been within him, hidden away until this very moment.

The power shifted, coiling around him, hissing in his ears and rushing up into his veins. He gasped at the cold of it, at the way is thrummed through his blood and against his bones.

“It’s…coming,” he murmured in wonder, staring down at his hands. Then, with more excitement, “It’s coming to me!”

Another flash, this time through his whole body. The power solidified, as if turning to impenetrable ice. It was a vital part that kept him together and whole; he doesn't knwo how he's lived without it for this long.

With widened eyes, he looks up to the dragon. He’d spread out his wings and bowed his head closer. The very action stopped the winds and brightened the moonlight shining down upon them.

The creature, he realised now, is truly a part of him. This power he held was this creature, and it carried in it a name. He spoke to him again. “ ‘My name is…’” Hitsugaya repeated back without realising.

He stood taller, hands fisted at his sides. He listened closer to the voice that whispered rather than roared in his ear, echoing from his veins and heart. From a part of him that had always been there, remaining unnamed until now.

He grasped on to what it said, in the voice of the dragon. “ ‘My name is Hyourinmaru!’ ”

He left his inner world through the moonlight, letting it consume him as the ice crackled and Hyourinmaru flapped his wings with a howl.

___________________________

Hitsugaya leaps forward, the air whistling around him and the world becoming streaks of color. He only sees the traitor he will cut down. He is far from anxious to face the Soul who had cut him down ad made him feel powerless. That boiling in his stomach roiled as he raised Hyourinmaru and brought the blade down harshly against Kyoka Suigetsu. It did nothing to rattle Aizen, but he half expected that would be the case.

“You came at me without much thought,” Aizen says, smiling faintly. “That was rather reckless of you, Captain Hitsugaya.”

Hitsugaya withholds a sneer; he refuses to show any emotion in front of Aizen. “Someone had to make the first move. I commend you for not activating Kyouka Suigetsu on your first strike.”

“Allow me to do the same for you…” Aizen says flatly, before deflecting Kyouraku’s attack to his side with a kido shield.

Hitsugaya knew Kyoraku would follow, had sensed it in the way he’d glanced at him briefly. Had he known he would strike first? Hitsugaya shakes his head; it didn’t matter.

He falls back, sensing the remaining captains, lieutenants, and their newfound ‘allies’ all coming towards them to join the fight. He and Kyouraku will have to keep Aizen occupied for the next minute.

He goes in for several attacks, as does Kyouraku, all avoided or blocked with ease. This is not the fighting style Hitsugaya has seen Aizen use before. This is a different Aizen, a truer version of him. He still has the same grace that comes when he deflects an attack with his zanpakuto and casts a kido at the same time, but there’s a fast pace to it, and a calculation behind each strike. It’s as if he knows their moves before even they do.

Swallowing the cry that wanted to come from his throat, Hitsugaya lunges again, bring Hyourinmaru down hard. He can’t let this frustration get the better of him. He can use it as fuel to keep him engage in the battle, but never as source of power. Never as his sole motivation. He is a Captain of the Gotei Thirteen, and the Soul before him had turned his back on that title.

Aizen brings his zanpakuto down, countering the attack and causing Hitsugaya to skid back. He comes to a stop a short distance away. As he stares the traitor down, he can’t get rid of the previous thought. Aizen hadn’t just turned his back on the title, but also on everything it stands for.

The words come to the surface, and Hitsugaya doesn’t stop them from reaching his throat. “Before, you said a sword without hatred is light an eagle without wings…that a sword swung out of duty will never cut you.” Aizen’s smile falters, falling to a straight line. Hitsugaya doesn’t gloat on the small victory, instead continuing as he lowers Hyourinmaru to his side, “You don’t seem to know the truth, and that is…a sword wielded from duty alone is what a captain always does. To wield one with hatred is nothing but violence. The Soul Society would never consider that a battle.” He stands a little taller. “It seems, Aizen, you weren’t ever captain material if you truly believe that.”

He was always planning the Soul Society’s downfall and their deaths along with it. He never cared for a single Soul or Human. He didn't even care for his allies, cutting down Harribel like she was nothing to him this whole time. The vision he had, whatever it was, had led him to this and dragged everyone in with it. To think he can hold such power, it sickens Hitsugaya.

“How interesting…” Aizen’s smile returns. “To hear those words from you, the captain who hates me the most out of all of them, is quite surprising to me.”

Hackles raised, Hitsugaya brings up Hyourinmaru again. He loathes how the comment struck close to home, that he has read him that well.

“Are you telling me you have no hatred in your sword right now?”

What’s he getting at with this?

“Or perhaps…did your hatred vanish when Hinamori-kun showed up completely recovered?”

It rushes up his spin, white hot and surging through every nerve-ending. It’s something dark and scorches like an ice burn. He’d experienced in the past few months on a smaller scale, in the moments where he struck a training dummy far too hard, or awoke in the middle of the night wanting to scream to the sky, or when he had last spoken with Hinamori and wanted nothing more than to kill Aizen right there and then.

Her near-death flashes before his eyes, far too vivid still. He can never forgive the traitor for that, could never let him walk away from this battle alive.

He’d missed whatever had happened between Aizen and Kyoraku as he'd gone into this state. Aizen turns around when Hitsugaya cries out his Bankai’s release. Behind him, Kyouraku becomes wary.

He ignores his fellow captain, zeroing in on Aizen alone. “You’re right, Aizen. My sword is filled with hatred. Hatred for you.”

Hyourinmaru roars in his mind, ready for this fight. The burning cold now flows through his veins and strikes through to his bones. He will become as cold and ruthless as he needs to be, as vicious as a blizzard that smothers all life caught in it.

Because truth of it all was he didn’t come here for the Soul Society. He wanted to fool himself into thinking that was his main motive, but he never could. Ever since the day he’d seen Hinamori dying on the floor of underground chambers of Central Forty-Six, this fight was never going to be about just protecting Soul Society. He'd thought of Hinamori this very morning, and how she would be safe. How he would ensure she remained safe.

“I didn’t come here to just do battle with you!” he bellows. “I came here to violently hack you to pieces!”

Let him be a hypocrite. In face of what this traitor did to Hinamori, what did his captaincy matter? If it meant he had to abandon it, then so be it. He’ll crush Aizen to nothing, will freeze him through to the core and shatter him to icy dust. His name will vanish in the decades, forgotten by all and only brought up when his demise was spoken of.

And what would become of himself? It didn't matter.

___________________________

They’d become specks in the distance, hard to see beyond the yellow of the kido shielding them. Hinamori had tried to keep her eyes open, but they were hurting and she ended up closing them and rolling her head to the side.

Now she cracks them open a fraction, able to see Izuru and Iba watching the battle. They’d stopped focusing on the injured and are completely still. Something must be wrong. She rolls her head to the other side. Rangiku, now conscious, has her gaze also above, but Hinamori can’t tell through the tussled blonde hair if her frown is one of concern or confusion.

She tries to make out the figures, and all but three are indistinguishable. The Ryoka boy – Kurosaki Ichigo, she corrects herself – stands a long distance away from the battle. Hitsugaya’s ice wings flap shooting himse forward at such a speed he becomes a blur before he attacks Aizen.

Other figures swoop in after that, and it becomes a chaotic scene. She loses track of the battle, seeing but not really concentrating on what is happening.

It’s why she frowns when, after Soi Fon engages Aizen in the confrontation, he vanishes.

She let’s out a surprised gasp when her view is suddenly obstructed. The white of the Soul before her is glaring against the kido. Without having to see his face, Hinamori’s heart seizes up and then races as her blood turns cold.

His shadow casts over her. A vague sense of kido, one of concealment, rolls off him. A blink, and Hinamori sees him more clearly as he casts his gaze to Rangiku. In the sickening seconds that feel like minutes, she hazily suspects he’s considering doing something to her fellow lieutenant.  

She makes a sound, the beginnings of a wordless protest, which draw his attention back to her.

Hinamori blinks again, and he bends forward and grabs her by the front of her uniform. His face is darkened by shadows, making his appearance all the more shocking to her.

With a violent jerk, he pulls her back off the ground, forcing a choked gasp out of her. Her head and limbs loll back, as though she were a ragdoll. Is this real? How did he get past barrier? Why is no one around her seeing this? Even if he is using a concealment kido, it would have broken with him grabbing her. Unless it's one stronger than any she knows. The power of him, the things she never knew. The things he'd done, to her and her friends.

She lets out a broken whimper. “C…Captain.”

Aizen pauses. Behind him, high up in the sky, Soi Fon has created an army of clones, but they’re a blur to Hinamori, her focus only on him.

“Why did you come here?” His voice, so familiar but somehow so different, breaks something in her.

She can only let out a strangled sound in response. How she wanted to tell him to his face she'd come her to face him and fight alongside her fellow lieutenants and captains. She should reach Tobiume, sheathed at her hip, or shoot a kido through him. She has the strength to do the latter, but she’s paralyzed.

“No, I already know why.” She can hear the cold smile in his voice.

With a tilting back of his head, sunlight and the glow of the kido around them illuminates Aizen’s face. His eyes finally reach hers. He says something else, but it doesn’t register. The disdain and coldness in his gaze pierces her. It tells her what she already knows, what she’d tried to deny weeks ago but realized before she came to this battle. it's what splints whatever in her had broken before. You never mattered.

With a brutal pull, she’s off the ground completely. Everything passes in a haze, and then all she sees is the sky, much closer than before. A sudden cold presses up against her back, and she’s losing her footing. Looking down, Karakura Town is sprawled out beneath her, and Soi Fon is rushing at her.

Aizen is nowhere to be seen.

__________________________________

“It’s over Aizen!”

Hitsugaya lunges forward, and with a flap of his wings, he shoots forward at great speed. He doesn't give the other captains a chance to deal the finishing blow. He keeps his grip on Hyourinmaru strong and his focus solely on the man frozen again the ice.

Seconds before the blade pierces through the traitor’s back, Hitsugaya thinks he hears Hinamori begin to call out to his name. It ends so abruptly he barely even registers it.

He stabs Hyourinmaru through the ice and into Aizen’s back, and it's all over.

_________________________________

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[fairyrona]

a fanart to @cosmobrain00 's ''I know the end'' series because I can't !! stop ! thinking about it !!!!

[fruitybashir]

The Holidate (Spet me k tebi vleče) - Chapter 16

When he sleeps though, his features relax completely. Bojan finds no word more fitting to describe him other than angelic.

Kris’ beard is growing back in, forming a blond stubble on his chin and Bojan traces his fingers over his cheek, light touches, careful not to wake him and his fingers come to rest on Kris’ lips. He feels the other’s shallow breath against his fingertips and Bojan wants to lean in so badly, seal his mouth to Kris’ and breathe him in, kiss him until he feels the other slowly wake under his lips.

Read chapter 16 here!