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starry-bi-sky · 5 months ago

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this just in: danny fenton is just as much of a mask as Brucie Wayne? - another danyal al ghul au

Turns out, being placed in a civilian family who have no knowledge of your background is actually detrimental to the health and development of a child assassin due to lack of proper support! Surrounded by strangers in a foreign city, Danyal Al Ghul does as assassins do best. He hides. Espionage is one of many teachings one learns in the League, and it only takes half a day for Danyal to construct a new persona to hide behind: Daniel Fenton.

By the time dinner rolls around, Danyal al Ghul is safely and securely tucked behind the face of Danny Fenton; brand new adoptive child of the Fenton family who came from overseas. A shy, quiet little boy with a thick accent and curly hair, with brown skin and blue eyes, and an avid interest in the stars. The best fictions are always cobbled together in a little bit of truth, it's some of the only truth he ever lets through. He apologizes in a meek voice for his behavior early, he didn't mean to be rude, and he watches the three of them eat it up with coos.

Lies roll like silk against his lips, he struggles to meet their eyes and offers them his weakest, shyest smile. It's too easy. It's easy to go from there.

Danny Fenton, adoptive son, shy and awkward and unconfident but friendly. Who struggles in his classes and isn't the brightest, but tries his hardest. He makes bad jokes and has a quick tongue and a sarcastic mouth. He wants to be an astronaut. He's got the best aim in school, and is a terrifying dodgeball player. He's one of the least athletic kids in his grade.

It's like playing two truths and a lie, but there's only one truth, and the rest are lies. It's easy to pretend when he knows it's insincere.

Danyal Al Ghul, grandson to the Demon Head. Deadly, trained assassin. Has spilled blood, has had blood spilt from. Environmentalist, animal activist. He loves the stars. He owns a calligraphy set. A sharp tongue, an even sharper blade. He's clever, quick-witted, he would be top of his grade if he tried harder. He purposely doesn't.

He misses his family. He misses his mother, and he misses his brother. Mother visits a few times a year, so few times that he can count it on both hands. He cherishes every visit, as brief as they are. It helps remind him who he is.

Sam and Tucker are Danny's best friends. They've never met Danyal, but Danyal's met them.

It becomes routine to become Danny Fenton. As familiar and as easy as pulling on a shirt in the morning. Danyal wakes up and is always first to the bathroom in the mornings; stares at himself in the mirror until he can finally see Danny staring back at him. At night, he locks his door and sheds the mask.

Dying throws a wrench in his mask; splits a crack straight through the porcelain. He's able to smooth it over with sandpaper and liquid gold, but it's a little hard keeping his ghost form under wraps. It instinctively wants to shift to show his true self. Danyal can't have that, he's spent four years as Danny Fenton, he'll spend another four as him as well. Even if the feeling of the hazmat suit in his ghost form feels restrictive, like a too-small shirt suctioned to his skin that needs to be peeled off.

He'll live. Er-- well, you know what he means. It's frustrating however, trying to keep his Danny Fenton mask up even as Phantom - fighting in the air is something he needs to get used to, and the sudden propping of powers throws him off. But he is nothing if not adaptive, and he hates that he needs to slow his own skills down in order to keep pretenses up in front of Sam and Tucker.

The first time Danyal summons a sword when he's alone, is one of the few times Danyal gets to grin instead of Danny. He's fighting Skulker, and from an invisible hilt he draws a katana from thin air. It startles them both. Skulker takes a step back at the smile that spreads across his face.

They're both silent as Danyal examines his new sword.

"Do you know what people like me do to people like you, poacher?" Danyal finally asks him, the accent he began to hide a few months in slipping through. He drops all pretense, dragging the flat end of the blade slow and appreciatively against his palm. It's a good make, and when he cuts it through the air, it slices through like butter. He looks up at Skulker with a smile; "are you ready to find out?"

When Sam and Tucker ask about why Skulker seems so skittish around Danny now, Danny shrugs at them and says with a playful smile; "I don't know, I guess I kicked his butt too hard after our last fight." and he watches as Sam rolls her eyes exasperatedly, and Tucker snickers with his own joke.

By the time he reunites with Damian before their 15th birthday, Danyal is buried beneath so many layers of Danny Fenton that his brother will need a shovel to dig him out. He's not sure what he'll find.

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc crossover #danyal al ghul au #danyal al ghul #dpxdc prompt #dpxdc au #dc x dp crossover #dp crossover #demon twins au #so turns out putting an assassin child in a normal family does not actually fix the child. it may just make them worse. had this thought #today and had to extrapolate. i have a whole ass post in my drafts explaining my idea for this lmao. my thought was basically:#'damian would be the better off twin because he'd have actual proper support compared to danny bc the bats know damian's background and +#+ as a result can actually address the league's teachings properly and help him dismantle the lessons that have been ingrained in him +#+ as compared to danny who would be with a random family - regardless of affiliation - who would only be able to help with surface level +#stuff if danny even ever lets them see that. danny would need to dismantle his own mindset on his own if he even thinks he has to.'#jazz is not a reliable or licensed therapist. that is a child. she's not even implied to be a good one. psychoanalyzing people doesn't make #you a good therapist. it just means you can psychoanalzye people. and therapy only works on those who think they need it. danny would not #think he'd need it and any attempts from jazz to psychoanalyze him would just result in him shutting her out and doubling down on his belie #tldr: starry made another au exploring the psychological effects of growing up in the league and he calls it:#'whose the more adjusted twin? Damian or Danny? Lmao Damian ofc. Danny got screwed over'#rip to damian you have your work cut out for you trying to peel back all of your brother's protective layers. that's an iceberg waiting to #be explored. o7 to you champ your brother got the short end of the stick. danny has so many things to unlearn that i didn't go into here #its an actual demon twins au too! would ya look at that.

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rinnstars · 3 months ago

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time capsule!

in which you hesitate on calling him on his 19th

itoshi sae x reader: angst w comfort, happy ending, long distance rs, birthday fic ish, not proof read + likes n reblogs are appreciated

its cowardly - its been 30 minutes and you’ve still yet to dare to press his contact. you turn to the other side of the bed, facing the walls - ironically maybe you are truly talking to a wall. you could scroll through the chats between you and itoshi sae and half of it would be one-sided conversations - whether that be you chatting about your day with no replies, good morning and good nights that are left unreciprocated, i love yous that are left with blue ticks.

time. time is cruel to you and sae you think - compared to the youthful and heart-pumping love you once shared of secret love whispers and letters in the classroom you were once familiar with just down the street of your house. you’ve changed a lot since the last time you saw him when he was just seventeen, coming back for the first time from overseas - you’ve cut your hair shorter than what he’s used to yet just enough for him to still comb through it as he’s always done in your memories, you’ve changed your fashion style, ironically more similar to his with his stylish sweaters, sunglasses you’ve bought with him at the thrift shop, shoes that reminds you of him, you’ve changed your room from the youthful polaroid filled room to a simple room walls clean of any identity or evidence of you. and youre sure time has been even more cruel - he’s changed since the last time you’ve met him - he’s grown a lot taller than the fourteen year old he was when he waved goodbye to you in the airport yet that eye full of affection still remained back then, he’s much more determined you think, no longer giving up after once or twice failures at. the claw machines you used to take him to during the weekends, and he’s much quieter than he used to be, even more stoic and colder than you’ve remembered the quiet lover that sits beside you during class. and you wonder how much more has he changed during these two years - you could guess though: even colder with lesser texts from him gradually day by day week by week until it’ll soon be too late, even quieter than you can get used to with little to no words to tell you anymore to fix this torn apart house of cards, and maybe this will be the year where he finally leaves.

grief is a natural process of life - death, lost passions, and torn-apart friendships. and you’re pretty sure youre at the acceptance stage of grieving over this fallen apart romance story. it was denial - making excuses for him when he stopped the daily greetings through texts and photos of new places he’s been, making excuses for him to your skeptical friends that has always been right to see without the tinted-rose glasses, making excuses for him so that just maybe he’ll come back. then it was anger: the one week you refused to text him or answer his calls although there wasn’t any to interact with in the first place - how could he abandon you like that? why can’t he care about this relationship just as much as i do? why is he being so selfish? why.. doesn’t he love me anymore - sadness. you’ve practically sobbed the next week or two away - has he fallen out of love? distance makes the heart grow fonder they say, but you think it has made itoshi sae forgot all about you, all about the memories you’ve shared, all about japan and the person he’s left behind. you hate the physical heartache you face as you look at photos of you and him from the past, hearing at the voice calls and voicemail he’s sent to you with that same familiar voice that seem to still make your heart flutter. you hate the physical memories of him that reminds you of him everywhere that makes your stomach churn - from the bus stop that you seem to always see the phantom of you and him sitting there just like before in that school uniform that hangs in your closet, from the sweater on your bed that still somehow smells like him that you’ve grown way too attached to, from the candy that’s sugary-sweet taste that burst in your mouth reminds you of eating the candy pack with him during lunch break on days too tired to walk down long stairs to get to the canteen. you hate the dreams of you and him - wearing the white cloth that covers your face walking down the aisle, wearing stupid matching christmas sweaters going down to eat dinner together just you and him, wearing that stupid paper rings that matches with his that youre sure is long gone in his pile of abandoned mess and trash in his life. yet youre persistent - you don’t think you’ve ever given up before, not for anything you wanted so desperately to stay - you work hard and get sort of good results so that you have something to share with him only to be met with a thumbs up reaction, you force yourself to desperately like just a little bit of his favourite drinks that burns under your tongue, even worse you’ve considered and calculated the amount of money and everything just to run over to spain to find him, to fix this torn-apart love story that youre so desperate to fulfill, to build back this house of cards that has long crumbled without you even noticing.

and now its 11:59. you know logically, you should at least give him a call, tell him happy birthday even if it goes to voice mail - because at the end of the day you love him, you can’t leave him the way he left you, and truly to the deepest part of your broken heart, you want his life to go right, you want him to achieve his dreams out there even if it’s without him, you want him to smile even if from a memory far too long for him to recount these days. and so you do, pressing that call button - but its selfish, deep. down perhaps you just want to hear his voice even if its prerecorded and laced with the same annoyance that pricks your heart slightly you try to says, perhaps you want it to hurt so you can stop lingering on this ghost of his and stop loving him when the ceiling of this house of cards have fallen and practically ripping apart at your heart and stomach, and perhaps you want to say one last farewell before you run away from this mess that you know deep down you’ve contributed to.

“hello?”

and yet its that stupidly sweet voice that replies back, one that makes your heart flutter, makes your ear turn pinkish red, makes your stomach burst with butterflies. oh youre sure its love, the same love that you’ve felt the first time you’ve held hands with him and felt electric coursed through your veins and verve’s, the same love you’ve felt when your lips melted perfectly into his like you were made for each other by the universe, the same love you’ve felt when he’s first made you that paper ring in the middle of science class before that match that changed the entirety of yours and sae’s life. and you think, if it means feeling this pumping of your heart as though youre on a rollercoaster, feeling this warmth that rises through your entire face, feeling the love from your legs through your head - you think its all worth it.

“happy birthday sae. i love you”

“… thanks. i love you too. i’m coming back tomorrow by the way, i’ll come over..?”

and just maybe, you can fix this house of cards with him. with him - not alone, but with him. and just maybe those phantoms of you and sae at that bus stop, on your bed in your bedroom, at yours and his favourite cafe wont be ghosts anymore.

#itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae angst #sae x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk angst #blue lock angst #happy birthday itoshi sae #idk is there a bday tag 4 him?????

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the-crooked-library · 6 days ago

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Creative Lineage - Dracula, Orlok, and the others

Here's the thing: the relationship between Nosferatu and Dracula is incredibly interesting - especially considering that Nosferatu (1922) was based on Dracula the book (1897), and most subsequent visual adaptations of Dracula for some reason used aspects of that film as inspiration, instead of adapting the original novel directly. As a result, there have always been endless comparisons between the two; but, in light of our most recent Nosferatu (2024), I must expand on what I personally think is their most significant (in regards to both plot development and analysis) difference.

TL;DR: it's characters. The main source of divergences between Dracula and Nosferatu is that these stories consist of vastly dissimilar characters, stuck in relatively similar situations.

I could go into heavy detail, and I will - under the cut, for the sake of all our dashboards.

At first glance, the stories of Dracula and Nosferatu are almost identical. The beginning sections follow the same essential plot beats - a young, newlywed solicitor travels to a creepy castle in Eastern Europe to assist a reclusive Count in his immigration to the West. This Count is, in fact, a vampire (otherwise known as a nosferatu), and terrorizes the young man for weeks, before departing and leaving him imprisoned; the solicitor escapes, is rescued from the wilderness by a nunnery, and returns home - where the Count has already begun his murderous process of settling in.

Here, in my opinion, is where the similarities end.

The key to understanding Nosferatu is remembering that Orlok is not Dracula; Thomas is not Jonathan; Ellen is not Mina, and so forth; and despite the mutual inspirations that affect each film adaptation of either story, the characters never react to the plot as a viewer would expect, if their precursory experience has been limited to only one or the other version.

Naturally, there are reasons for the continued addition of Nosferatu elements to Dracula adaptations. The most prominent of them is that, quite simply, audiences enjoy a fated, dangerous, inadvisable monster romance. By and large, we are titillated by the taboo; and - without adapting Le Fanu's Carmilla (1872), or adding a vampiric element to an adaptation of Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera (1910), or expanding on the queer elements of Jonathan Harker's sojourn in Transylvania - the easiest piece of classic media to sample for this sort of theme is Nosferatu (1922).

The 1922 film was, in a sense, an adaptation of Bram Stoker's Dracula (at least, enough to get the creators sued by his estate). In its efforts to circumvent copyright laws, it plays fast and loose with Stoker's lore and characters, renaming the Harkers, the Count, and everyone else - and, crucially, adding an element of erotic fixation that the vampire develops upon seeing a portrait of his solicitor's young wife. While still overseas, he builds a psychic connection with the melancholy and sensitive Ellen; it is both horrifying and sensual, and ultimately what she uses to destroy him - sacrificing her own blood and life to keep him out of his coffin until cock-crow. Ellen dies, but the sunlight annihilates Count Orlok, and the ending is a bittersweet new dawn.

This fixated, possessive, murderous eroticism (first displayed in its currently recognizable form by Carmilla) has become a cornerstone of the vampire genre. Elements of it are recognizable even in relatively modern media like Interview with the Vampire, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Twilight, as well as numerous Dracula adaptations (of which the 1992 Coppola film might be the most well-known); it is even present in other, indirect offshoots like NBC's Hannibal TV series. It is, therefore, essential to note that these overtones did not exist in the same way in Dracula the novel; and the reason for that is, specifically, a difference in character.

Count Dracula, while dangerous, vampiric, and psychic, does not possess that same singular fascination with any given character in Stoker's book (save perhaps for Jonathan Harker, temporarily). He does drain Lucy night after night, and his method of killing, like with all vampires of his type, is allegorically sexual; but it isn't personal. She keeps receiving blood transfusions - effectively, refills!.. Other than her blood, he has little interest in her. He has companionship enough already - after all, he lives with three female vampires, who may be courtesans or wives, but are colloquially referred to as Vampire Brides; and, additionally, he maintains ongoing communication with some of the people and animals that live on his land. As such, when he does bite Jonathan's wife Mina, it is a practical decision - made in order to establish a potential spy in a group of people who appear to be intent on hunting him down.

Similarly, Mina herself - despite the usual characterization of her film portrayals, which are in many ways epitomized by Coppola's 1992 version - was not originally a vulnerable maiden. She is confident and educated, she has worked for a living as an educator prior to her marriage, and she knows how to use a typewriter as well as shorthand. She has no emotional connection to Dracula whatsoever beyond pure incandescent hatred; and, frankly, forcing her into any sort of romance with him is deeply inaccurate to her character - because Mina Harker is endlessly in love with her husband Jonathan.

They may be on the lower end of middle-class, but relatively stable and planning a life together - not only as husband and wife, but as solicitor and secretary, as well. It's as close to a power couple as a novel from the 1890s will approach.

This is not the case for Ellen Hutter, largely because her social circumstances are far more precarious.

Unlike Mina, she has been forcibly isolated for the majority of her life. In that, she is yet another in the line of tragic madwomen of the gothic genre - mostly due to her eccentricities and her psychic gift, which (as the Eggers version specifies) manifested early in her childhood and became socially inexcusable during her teenage years, much like any real-world form of neurodivergence. It is implied that she has been institutionalized at some point as a result; and even prior to that, her father kept her confined indoors and away from other people in efforts to control her.

This isolation is what originally leads to her connection with Orlok - who was woken from his centuries-long deathlike sleep when he heard her reaching out into the ether, begging for a friend. Then, later in her life, the same circumstances unfortunately have a direct effect on her relationship with her husband Thomas, too; while she is attached to him, she cannot ignore that she is also utterly dependent on him as her ticket to a stable life, as well as out from under her father's thumb. Again, unlike Mina, she has no marketable skills or opportunities outside of this marriage; and while Thomas never shames her for her past, he still pressures her to ignore and repress it. The manifestations of her psychic ability concern, then unsettle, then frighten him - and, ultimately, there is a transactional aspect to their union. Thomas expects himself to move ahead in the world, like his friend Friedrich; and Ellen is expected to eventually become normal. She is expected to become a happy, pretty wife and mother like Anna Harding - because, while Thomas cares for her and fully intends to provide for her, he refuses to actually understand her.

Furthermore, it must be noted that leaving her father's estate for her husband's house did not entirely save Ellen from her isolation. Unlike Mina, she has no real friends of her own. Her only friend in the 2024 film is Anna, her husband's best friend's wife; and in the 1922 original, even that tentative affection is unclear. As such, Orlok remains the only character that truly knows and accepts her as she is - which inevitably complicates their dynamic.

While Orlok is, by his own admission, incapable of a human love, he is overwhelmingly and exclusively obsessed with Ellen. Unlike Dracula, who even in death keeps the company of his women and his people, Orlok exists in utter solitude. Prior to his death, he was also heavily avoided due to his being in "covenant with the devil." The 2024 film especially makes it clear that Ellen's call, which woke him from his slumber, is exceptional; their connection is intensely personal, and it is as close to love as he can ever feel.

This aspect of the vampire's characterization fundamentally alters the context of his behaviour throughout the film. While Dracula moved to England in search of new hunting grounds and little else, Orlok goes to Germany specifically to find Ellen. By marrying Thomas Hutter, she broke the covenant she made with Orlok in her youth; thus, knowing that his claim has been infringed upon, the Count makes contact with Hutter's real estate law firm, summons him to the Carpathians, crosses the sea, and arrives to Wisborg as a physical manifestation of every dark urge and ability she has been attempting to repress. He torments her husband, tricks him into signing a marriage annulment, plagues the city, and murders the Hardings - all of it for her. She is his unique and all-consuming motivation. Again and again, he insists upon their covenant, reminding her that she has never truly belonged to the human world, and he is not incorrect in his assessment. Ellen's surrounding society infantilizes and binds her, often literally. She has nothing to lose by leaving it, except for her own sense of morality; and that is why Orlok, who represents her own abnormality, remains a beautiful, nightmarish temptation.

The other characters diverge from Stoker's just as much.

Thomas Hutter has little in common with Jonathan Harker beyond his choice in career and his time at a vampire's castle. Despite his careful attachment to his wife, he does not actually take her opinions into consideration when he plans their life - he prioritizes his social and financial advancements, which are of no interest to her, and which he sees as his duties to her and to himself; and, when she exhibits any of her unusual or melancholic traits, he does his best to try and move past them as quickly as possible. He does not experience the same attraction to the horror that she does; he cannot bring himself to understand it; and both in 1922 and in 2024, he is also largely oblivious to her eccentricities, gifting her flowers despite the fact that she does not like to see them picked and dying in a vase. That is a far cry from Jonathan - who knows his wife's love of train schedules, who is practicing shorthand with her, and who is willing to join her in cursed, godforsaken undeath when faced with the possibility of her turning. Ultimately, Thomas exists too firmly within the same societal constraints that Ellen abhors, and their relationship has none of the foundation that is unshakably shared by Jonathan and Mina.

At the same time, while the Anna is a parallel to Lucy, and her husband is a corresponding Arthur, the Hardings (once again) have no particular commonality with them. Their characterization remains undeveloped in the original 1922 film - and while Eggers does grant them some definition, it is still in no way similar to Stoker's.

Stoker's Lucy is a charming, cheerful, flirty, and a little coquettish young girl; she exists on the cusp of womanhood and marriage, and her pre-vampire arc revolves around her choice between three almost-equally delightful suitors. She adores and idolizes Mina, she is childishly excited about her future; and in these things, she is very different from Anna, who is already married, a mother of two with one on the way - and who does care for Ellen, but in a motherly, rather than girlish, fashion.

Her husband, too, is quite different from Arthur Holmwood.

In 2024, Friedrich Harding is - above all else - the film's personification of the trap that is patriarchy. He is the epitome of what a man is expected to be: a successful business owner with a pretty blonde wife and 2.5 kids (I thought Anna's pregnancy was very much on the nose. Quite literally, 2.5 kids!). He is generous, he cares for his family, and he is firmly Rational. On the surface, Harding appears to be an ideal made flesh; and as the film progresses, it becomes evident that this ideal is designed to crumble.

Much of Harding's rationality is heavily hypocritical. While he claims to be making all his decisions based on pure logic, Ellen's - an outsider's - perspective exposes the truth behind his motivations. He ignores her warnings because he does not like her and considers her impudent; he kicks his own sick best friend out of his house with only his similarly sick wife to care for him, because he is annoyed and unsettled by their references to the supernatural; he refuses to listen to Von Franz and ignores the danger his family is in, because he is frightened of losing them to something he cannot comprehend, rather than a mundane, potentially treatable illness. All of these decisions are emotional, rooted in his misogyny and closed-mindedness - and so, Harding loses his daughters, his wife, his unborn son, as well as the unflappable, rational facade he had been so carefully maintaining. He ends the film a wreckage of himself, having committed necrophilia with the corpse of his wife because he was emotionally, irrationally unable to let go of her even in death; he dies of the plague that came to Wisborg through his own ship yard, holding her in his arms. Even under the guise of benevolence, his patriarchal worldview undermines and fails him entirely. It is a terrible thrill to watch him fall apart, and the ruin that is left in his place is one of the most obvious illustrations of the story's principal themes.

The other characterizations follow a similar sort of pattern. Sievers, unlike Seward, has no romantic rivalry with Harding; and beyond a professional connection, they are not really friends. Von Franz is far less knowledgeable about vampires than Van Helsing - for the majority of the film, he is stumbling in the dark with the rest of the cast, only finding a way of destroying Orlok in Herr Knock's codex. Knock, too, is far less noble than Renfield - even though he is just as insane as his counterpart, he sees Ellen as an object to be traded for money and power, rather than a kind soul that he would die to protect.

(Quincey Morris, unfortunately, does not exist in Nosferatu. Murnau hadn't found a place for a cowboy in his production; consequently, Eggers could not, either.)

The point is, really, that while Dracula and Nosferatu share a common premise, a comparison between them cannot be made without acknowledging the glaring differences between their characters. For instance, even though Orlok's relationship with Ellen is toxic in the usual vampiric way - part sex, part horror, part possession, part liberation - Thomas is by no means a perfect partner for her, either, because he is not Jonathan Harker, and Ellen is not Mina. Similarly, Von Franz, Sievers, and Harding are not a brave vampire hunting team - they are all blind, each in their own specific way (Von Franz, lacking straightforward knowledge; Sievers, trusting Von Franz without question; Harding, unable to think outside of societal rules). Expecting them to react to their situation the same way as the cast of Dracula is an exercise in futility.

As such, if you do get the chance to see the film again, or if it merely plays in the darkness of your skull when you close your eyes - instead of fixating on the few surface-level similarities between two different vampires and the people they haunt, allow the story of Nosferatu to seduce you on its own terms. Whether it is 1922 or 2024, we, as viewers, deserve its living blood - rather than the shadow of its predecessor.

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aealzx · 3 months ago

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*gestures vaguely * Driving makes me daydream, and while I was plotting out/daydreaming about my Phantom Rogues fic the opening of Demon Slayer came on and brain decided to derail for 2 days before I ran out of steam. So here's all I managed from that spurt of a distraction X'D ( this must be why I never manage to finish big projects ._. )

all concept ideas under the cut. People are free to spiral off this if they want

Sam and Tucker were supposed to be part of the pic too, but I ran out of steam for this idea |D they were in the rough

I'm just gonna list unsorted bullet point ideas I had for this X'D

The "Fentons" are a mixed nationality family (Maddie is from overseas) so the kids both have 2 names. Why? Because I wanted to try giving them JP names based off their actual names. Daniel means "god is my judge" so that one was really hard and I just went with what I have up there. Jasmine = jasmine, so I went with "jasmine kid" hehee. and the characters for Haruki are "warmth" and "precious" because I'm a sap

backstory ideas:

Maddie is a Hashira, because branching from the idea of "really good demon slayer family" Jack is probably just a good lower member of the corp

Jazz was taught from a young age, but wasn't really into it until Danny was born. Eventually becomes newest Hashira with the drive to protect Danny

Danny has been trained by parents a bit, but way behind Jazz because not the best health. Fluctuates drastically in health, so fairly introverted and overshadowed by older sister

Sam is from one of those .... onmyouji? families. The ones that fight demons with sigils and chants and stuff instead of swords.

Tucker is from a science doctor family, and is just a guy compared to the rest, but also an encyclopedia brain.

Sam and Tucker met Danny because their families were asked to help him out on different occasions, and Sam and Tucker tagged along at some point and befriended Danny

The whole demon thing

Danny was home alone, and supposed to show up to Jazz's hashira ceremony party thing, but never did

Jazz and fam return to find house broken up and bloody, but no sign of Danny. Jazz recognizes a rather odd sigil paper as belonging to Sam, and goes to the three's little hideaway house

Sam and Tucker have newly demonized Danny trapped in a barrier, and he's fluctuating between responding to them and just being rawr

Seeing Jazz is what motivates Danny to fully push into docile demon mode, but only after breaking out of the barrier and tackling her, then crying on her

Jazz, Sam, and Tucker all decide oh hell no we're not taking demon brother to very "murder all demons" parents, so end up going on the run while trying to figure out how to cure Danny

Sam and Tucker are the main ones trying to figure out a cure because they've both been interested in studying more about demons than their parents are happy with since they were kids

#my art #danny phantom au #demon danny #one off concept #why am I posting this?#yolo #cringe with me #it looked better in my head XD

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lance-thunder-reporting-live · 24 days ago

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Good morning Amity Park, I'm your ghostly weatherman, Lance Thunder. Today's Sunday, December 15, and there's a 40% chance of rain. Highs are in the low fifties, and the lows are in the high thirties.

Johnny 13 and Kitty, the biker ghosts, were seen this morning throwing rotten meat, produce and eggs at Mayor Masters’s home. Danny Phantom arrived at the scene soon after this began, but strangely, rather than stop the two, Phantom simply watched and laughed. He even joined in near the end. I imagine that later today, when Masters returns from his overseas trip, he won’t be pleased upon seeing the state of his home.

The identity of the Family Video thief has been identified. The thief, Richard Walter, has been arrested and everything he stole has been returned to the store.

The Fentons will likely not be driving today.

#unreality #daily report #12/15/07

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dharmafox · 28 days ago

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Part of what burns my toast about the movies being given silly alternate titles (Phantom in the Rain, Ashes of Rage) for overseas releases is that it breaks the pattern of Mononoke stories being named after the ayakashi involved. The Japanese titles of every story so far have been like this: "Bakeneko," "Zashiki Warashi," "Umi Bozu," "Nopperabou," "Nue"... "Bakeneko"... Karakasa, Hinezumi. I like that the pattern treats Mononoke as a whole as an anthology of ayakashi stories. I realize that the alternate titles are given for the sake of marketability and that these movies wouldn't get overseas releases at all if they couldn't be made marketable, but it's regrettable that it has to be done by replacing the original titles with dramatic prepositional phrases that are separated from the stories' Japanese origins.

#mononoke #karakasa #hinezumi #also I want to be able to use the Japanese titles and have people who found the movies on netflix know wtf I'm talking about

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thisismeracing · 1 year ago

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The phantom of miscommunication | LH44

― Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x black!plussize!reader (she/her) ― Word count: 1.8k ― Warnings: not proofread; suggestive content; angst with a happy ending; mentions of an argument. Minors DNI! ― Summary: Dating a professional athlete is hard, and it’s even harder when you are famous too, and your schedules just keep crashing. how will their love beat their insecurities? ― A/n: I took forever to finish this request, but I hope the waiting was worth it and I did the request justice 🤍.

⁕ Based on this request. ⁕ my masterlist and my taglist ⁕ you can support my writing by reblogging, and leaving a comment (don’t forget to follow me if you like the piece)

You often hear about loving someone being easy and natural, a fall that you would pray the other catch you from. Turns out, as Yn discovered with Lewis, it feels natural, and she’s sure he’ll be there to catch her if she falls, but easy? Love wasn’t that easy. Or life was hard with it.

That’s at least how it feels for her while she finishes getting ready for the last performance of her Broadway play. Alone. She’s ditching her favorite dress because it reminds her of Lewis and how he would look smug whenever she wore it because she would need his help to zip her up. Lewis loved being needed. Not in a selfish way, but in a way that meant he loved to be helpful to those he cherished. Loved to hear their joyful tones while they thanked him, or the warm arms around his body, and in her case, the cold lips against his.

Lewis loved loudly.

Maybe that’s why they ended up fighting that last week. Because if he loved being helpful and seeing others happy, how could he not cancel a meeting to watch her finish the play she spent months traveling around overseas?

Yn loved silently.

It was as if she liked to feel him slide beside her in bed at night, rather than hear the noise of the door closing, and knowing he would be there. The silence that led to the moment was deeply appreciated by her. And her love somehow worked similarly. She wouldn’t ask more than twice for something she wanted, something important, something someone who loves her should know. To her, it was enough her dad showed up, he didn’t need to tell her she did a great job, no words of affirmation or bouquet of flowers and gifts whatsoever. Just their presence. And that was what Yn was expecting from Lewis: his presence.

She felt a tear slide down her cheek and she quickly wiped it before grabbing her bag and keys and leaving her house, making her way to one of her favorite cafes. There was something so unique, it mundane on finishing her tour home. Just minutes away from the house she shared with Lewis. A quick walk to her favorite café. The view of a grey, yet very beautiful London being her company.

Yn goes about her day doing most things on the automatic mode. Sometimes, she would think about how she always dreamt of this day when she was just younger. Starting on Broadway as a black girl was a hard task, that, in her case, was two times harder because she was also a plus-size actress. Some of the producers would reduce her to her weight, her skin tone, or just about anything, but her talent. She had to prove herself over and over until she finally became a phenomenon in the country and then, years ahead, she started to have a significant international impact. That’s when she met Lewis. She had traced most of her career, she had a name, and so did he, and maybe that was the first thing that brought them closer: the fact that it seemed as if everyone was attentively watching over them not because they wanted to appreciate the work they put on, but because they needed them to do something wrong, anything wrong, just so this wrongdoing could be talked about more than the rights.

It was hard.

And having Lewis there to share this burden made it a bit lighter.

Having him there to love her, and recognize her more than anyone ever would, was heartwarming. Being someone else’s first pick felt amazing. And though the ups and downs of their careers existed, they always faced it together. Just like they shared their victories together too. That’s why it felt so wrong not having him on her Musical ending show. He shared the struggles of her waking up early, and going late to bed just so she could grab each emotion needed, and memorize all the lines. She was the leading actress. The main start. Yet, she missed having him be illuminated by her light.

Truth is, Yn felt sad without Lewis, not that her happiness depended on him showing up, but they had created those small traditions. He would always be on the final stops of her shows. She would always make it to his most expected races.

As the saying goes, a dream you dream by yourself is just a dream, but a shared one is a reality. It’s hard to create a reality while in a long-distance, or mostly long-distance, relationship. You gotta be ten times more attentive and understanding. So when Lewis told her he had to make it to an interview before preparing for his race weekend without even waiting for her response, it did not feel like an understanding relationship, he, for the first time, did not seem attentive. And that hurt.

“But, love, why can’t you reschedule your interview for Friday after free practice? Or maybe even Saturday after qualy?” Yn asked, a pout on her lips, while Lewis was finishing packing his suitcase.

He sighed, “You know very well the rush after those two, Yn.”

Fair enough, “Well, then do it online! That way you could do it right before my play, and then come to the Teather after. It’s not that far from our house, you sure can make it.” She was full of solutions, to a problem that felt like Lewis himself created.

When his eyes found hers, determination written all over it, he didn’t even have to open his lips and tell her an audible “no”, she already knew, so she tried to practice healthy communication. “Look, Lew, it’s just that this is our last stop and they were okay with it being in London when most of the time it happens somewhere in the USA. You know how this city is important to me, and this play, it’s just- I can’t help but feel like you’ve been lacking in terms of support lately.”

The British finally stopped packing, dropping his shirt inside the suitcase, and leaving with a quick glance towards Yn, mumbling how he didn’t want to fight.

“But I want you to fight with me. Fight for me!” She trailed behind him, stopping at the entrance of the kitchen.

“Well, the world doesn’t revolve around you, Yn!” he snapped, and before he could apologize or backtrack she nodded, leaving the room. Love should never feel forced. She shouldn’t have to ask for it.

The door slammed behind her as she made her way to the Teather to bury her head in work, sweat the hurt away, dance, and sing until the energy made her feel comfort.

“Yn?” one of her colleagues asked, snapping Yn out of her memories. “They’re calling us for one last rehearsal before the show.”

She nodded and glanced at her phone, hoping to see a message, either an apology or a good luck one, anything that showed that he remembered, but there was nothing. Her shoulders slumped lightly and she made her way to the stage, the audience still deserved the best ending show, she deserved the best ending show.

So that was exactly what happened: Yn shined along with the whole crew. They sang, danced, smiled, and even cried after the curtains opened to an outstanding ovation from the audience. That’s when Yn’s eyes found his, right on the front row, a bouquet of flowers on his seat, one of his shy grins, while he stood clapping the most beautiful performance he had ever seen Yn deliver.

Lewis was there.

Lewis wasn’t in an interview on the other side of the world.

He was standing there.

Smiling.

Clapping.

Proudly watching.

And when her lips quirked up slightly he nodded as if knowing they still had to talk, but for now, he took the right decision.

When the curtains closed again and Yn made the walk to her dressing room, she wasn’t surprised to find Lewis there, “hey,” she said, closing the door behind her and staying glued to the wooden.

“Hi, sweetheart,” Lewis started. “Look, I’m-”

“Can we save all the headaches and solutions for when we get home?” She suggested, still a bit breathless from the play. “That is if you’re coming home tonight. Or are you flying to do the interview late?”

There was a sad smile on Lewis's plush lips, “I’m home, with you.”

A breath of fresh air got into Lewis’ lungs when he noticed her shoulders relax with the news. She was relieved he would be home. She was happy to have him around. It wasn’t too late.

“And I agree on saving the deep talk to when we get home, but I want to say I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t support you or love you enough to reschedule and work my way around my things. You’re my treasure, love. And I’ve been lacking lately, I’ve been stressed, and with my head all over the place, but I’ll get better. I promise,” and a Hamilton promise would always come true. You could count on that.

Yn bit her lips, trying to hold back the tears, but they fell around her face like waterfalls just the same, and Lewis was in front of her in the blink of an eye, fingers brushing the wet splotches, lips kissing her delicate skin.

“I’m sorry, I am so so sorry,” he whispered painly.

“I was so terrified we were about to get on a dead-end road. That you would stop showing up for my plays, and-”

“Sweetheart, breathe,” he held her face between his soft palms and Yn tried to even her breath with his. “I’m here, I’m always going to be here. You have my endless support and undying love, you can count on that.” He was a runner, one of the fastest drivers on the grid, but he could never run away from her and what she made him feel. What he could do was beat the phantom of miscommunication to the finishing line, get there first, say he’s sorry before it’s too late, and work so that this ghost won’t ever bother their relationship again.

Yn nodded, gulping a bit more of air, and finally crashing her body on his in a tight hug. Lewis kissed her hair and found her lips with his, tasting their own tears and love. Yn mumbled how sorry she was for not being patient enough, and Lewis shook his head, kissing her again.

“I’m the sorry one, and I’m gonna make it up to it,” he explained.

Yn arched her brows, looking into his honey eyes, “I know just the way you can express how sorry you are,” she smirked, undoing the bow for her white dress and making it cascade around her ankles.

And Lewis did exactly that.

He whispered apologies and love promises in her ear, the sound of a symphony with her body banging against the door. That was their private play. Their favorite one.

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hiii!! I hope you guys liked it! I hope your Friday is amazing! Don't forget to reblog and leave me a comment if you can, it means a lot and it usually inspires me to write more *mwah*

taglist: @sachaa-ff @mickslover @iloveyou3000morgan @mishaandthebrits @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @saintslewis @scorpiobleue @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @shhhchriss @f1kota @lunnnix @karmabyfernando @crashingwavesofeuphoria @schumacheer @callsign-scully @dearxcherry @p8dris @peachiicherries @elliegrey2803 @he6rtshaker @therealcap @mehrmonga @the-depressed-fellow @soph1644 @cixrosie @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @nichmeddar

⁕ my masterlist and my taglist

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ourfatherwhoartinhell · 3 months ago

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Ghostober - Day 2 [Phantom]

“Could you be happy here with me?” - 2k

CW: For some reason I used both Aeon and Phantom, sorry if that bothers you. Lil angsty, not proofread either (and it's late, oops)

⊹ Ghostober Masterlist ⊹

He wasn’t sure why today of all days he was feeling so sad. Phantom was normally bounding about and thrilled to bits if someone even said hi to him. He wasn’t summoned all that long ago and he was still figuring out the ropes. His pack was super helpful too. Swiss and Dewdrop opted to help him out the most, although he wasn’t quite sure why Mountain and Rain always looked so displeased.

He had just finished his first few shows with the band. They were all back at the Abbey for a couple days while they packed up, gathering all the things they’ll need before heading overseas for the North American leg of the tour. Aeon was super excited to see all the new people and explore new places and cultures. Ever since his summoning day he was like a sponge, soaking in every bit of information he could - both good and bad.

Aether helped a lot with teaching Phantom the guitar before he was moved to full time work in the infirmary - a skill they were both surprised the young ghoul picked up extremely quick. Aether didn’t think they had made it to the end of the week before Phantom had mastered half the setlist, much to the excitement of Copia.

Aeon was proving to be a very worthy summon, and an even more worthy replacement for the band. You never knew what kind of ghoul you were going to get out of a ritual. Sure you had a faint idea, since ghouls were drawn to the personality of those summoning them, but they could be quiet and shy like Rain, helpful and kind like Cumulus, or a huge pain in the ass like Swiss. On the best of days, it was a coin toss.

On the day Copia called upon a Quintessence ghoul, he was just happy that he got a full quint. Unlike when Terzo tried to summon a replacement for Omega and ended up with Delta instead, who was half water, half quint. However, there were other factors at play that day of course.

Phantom had been in the den packing up his things, trying to make a mental note of what the others had said to bring. Everyone else was bounding about, laughing and playing like leaving the country wasn’t super scary. Of course it was no big deal to them, they had done this whole thing before. They were also quite a bit older than he was. He looked out to the common area and saw Swiss hanging upside down on the couch, messing with Aurora while Mountain made some muffins and Cirrus had Dew in a headlock - most likely for good reason.

Even Aurora was chilled out and relaxed. They were summoned together so she felt like a little sister to him, yet she fit into the pack dynamic so much faster than he did. Sometimes he wondered if he did fit in.

His thoughts were interrupted by Copia suddenly appearing at his side, nudging his shoulder, causing him to jump. When did he get here?

“What’s wrong, little one? The others have said you’ve not been yourself lately.” Copia says quietly, not wanting to embarrass the small quint.

Phantom just put on his normal goofy grin and wagged his tail. “Oh nothing! Nope! All good here, Papa. Just excited!”

Copia had been around enough ghouls to know when they were lying (although Alpha was always his weakness. That guy was way too good at hiding his true feelings; he almost felt bad for him, but that was his brother’s problem). Copia just wrapped an arm around the young ghouls shoulders and pulled him in for a supportive side hug.

“You have every right to be nervous. It is a long way from home, sì?”

Aeon hadn’t expected Copia to see through his facade, or at least not so quickly. He thought it was pretty good, it worked every time on the pack. “I was excited,” he admitted, his expression faltering as he looked at the ground, kicking his feet together. “I don’t know why it seems so scary now.”

Copia just nodded knowingly, guiding the quint to a quieter part of the den where they could talk in private.

“You can talk to me. Anything that I can do to help, you know I will do. Within reason of course.” Copia cracked a smile, hoping it would help him feel more comfortable to say what was on his mind. The last thing he wanted was his ghouls thinking they would be reprimanded for speaking about what’s bothering them. He made that vow the moment he stepped forward to take over the Ghost project.

“I know it’s only been a little while since being here, but Aurora has settled in so quickly and I feel like I’m falling behind.” He admitted quietly. “It feels like everyone is happy that she’s here, but I’m just some kit they can just push around because I don’t know anything. I want to learn, I want to know, Papa! I try to learn but the surface is so confusing.”

Copia runs a comforting hand along his back. “You are doing so well. I am so proud. I know they are proud too.” He motions towards where the rest of his pack were busy goofing around down the hall. “Aether was so proud of you too. He told me that you were his first choice for a replacement and that you would excel, and you have.”

“But I’m not him,” Aeon interjects. “I see it on stage, Papa. Dew always looks over to where Aeth used to be and sees me instead. I don’t think he’ll ever be able to get over that and I don’t know what to do. No matter how hard I try, how great I play, or how much I practice. He’ll never be happy.”

Copia just sighs. He knew exactly what Phantom was talking about. He had a long week of conversations with Dewdrop about the very same thing before the young quint was summoned. He had tried to get Dew to come to terms with the reasoning behind his actions, but he was having none of it. Eventually they had agreed that Dew would be amicable and act professionally towards Aeon, but that he never had to be his friend. For the meantime, that was acceptable for Copia. At least it would stop any fights or arguments while they kicked off the tour.

However, he was realizing that the agreement may need amending now.

“Have you tried talking to Dewdrop about it? I can’t say I’ve noticed too much while on stage, but I don’t like getting involved in pack politics. I learnt long ago that it’s much better if we let you sort it out amongst yourselves, but I can step in if I must.”

Phantom just shook his head. “No I haven’t.”

“Would you like me to be there while you talk to him?” Copia offers. “I won’t step in, but I think it would be good for you two to get it off your chests before we leave tomorrow.”

Phantom twiddles his fingers in contemplation, his ear twitching as he tries to hear what’s going on down the hall. He liked to say he was an optimist, but somehow all he could think of is how this could go so wrong and ruin everything.

But Papa is here, he wouldn’t let anything happen. Would he?

“I’m going to go get him, take a breath little one,” he affectionately ruffled the quint’s hair between the horns before he stood, almost certain that was his favourite spot. Copia would always see Cirrus and Mountain do it to him before rituals backstage, and Phantom’s tail happily starting to sway confirmed his suspicion. “I’ll be back.”

There weren't enough minutes between the time Copia left and came back with Dewdrop, who was already looking like he was being forced to the principal's office, to prepare little Aeon for the heavy conversation they were about to have. As soon as his violet eyes met Dew’s angry orange ones, he immediately wanted to cower and run away. There really was no other feeling like the one you get when your pack leader looks like he wants to tear you to pieces.

But he wasn’t going to run. He would do it for Papa. No more avoiding it.

On the other hand, he wanted to do it for himself too. To prove to Dew that he was worthy of this spot and he was worthy of being part of the pack in his own way.

The fire ghoul refused to sit, which was fine. As long as he didn’t walk out, that’s all Copia wanted. He had told Dew to just hear the kid out.

“Okay, what? Speak.” Dew said sharply, arms crossed as he glared at Phantom.

“I know that you hate me–”

“Oh good–”

“Dewdrop.” Copia interrupted sternly, earning him a solid eye roll. “You can continue.”

Phantom took a shaky breath but squared his shoulders. “I know you miss Aether, I know you hate that I took his spot. I hate that I did too, but that was out of my control. I’m still learning how to be helpful up here. I’m still learning where I fit in… if I fit in anywhere.” He trailed off, trying not to cry in front of Dew or Papa. “What can I do to make this easier for you?”

Dewdrop would be lying if he said he expected that from the little bat. He wasn’t exactly sure what Copia had forced him into but this was certainly not what he was thinking. Maybe he had been a little blinded by his rage and took it too far. He was the pack leader now, it was his job to make sure everyone was looked after. And clearly he had failed.

He huffed before he answered, a little bit of smoke dancing under his nose, not wanting either of them to see that he was conflicted. “Just stop trying to be him. You will never be him. Just… be you.”

Phantom hung onto every word. He was ready to do whatever it took to make this right. “Do you think you could ever…. Be happy here? With me?”

Dew’s head tilted, contemplating what to say - something he wasn’t used to doing. “I suppose… if you started finding your own thing instead of stealing Aether’s - which you do horribly by the way- I could consider it.” He grumbled. “You have 2 months to figure it out before we get ba–”

Dew couldn’t finish his sentence before Phantom was engulfing him in the biggest hug he could muster, not even caring that the other could burn him pretty badly and stop him from coming on tour.

While Phantom had Dew in his embrace, subconsciously his Quintessence (which was unstable on the best of days) allowed Dew to see exactly how he felt. He could see every glare, every snide comment, every purposeful nudge on stage from Aeon’s point of view. Along with the heavy sense of guilt he carried that followed each and every interaction they had.

Had he really been that hard on the little guy?

“Well, I hope this means much more friendly interactions in the future, yes?” Copia smiled as Dew shoved him off, struggling to hide the small smile that forced its way through.

“You’re lucky he’s cute.” Dew mumbled, giving Copia the dirtiest look before ruffling the quint's hair as a sign of approval. In all honesty, he knew Phantom was coming long before Copia did. He had spoken to Aether about it weeks before. His only instruction he had was to look after him no matter what.

‘He’s young, he’s going to be lost and confused. Look after him for me.’

Dew would never admit it, but after talking with Aether, it was hard not to imagine Aeon like the son they never got to have.

#ghostober 2024 #the band ghost #ghost band #nameless ghouls #ghost ghouls #ghost band fic #nameless ghoul fic #phantom ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #cardinal copia #papa copia #papa emeritus iv

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phantom-dare · 1 year ago

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To continue this, I thought I'd never be able to buy this doujinshi to see the whole story since it's like... over 4 years old and definitely out of print. Then it turns out the artist had republished it in a printed compilation 2 years ago, and there's still some copies available, so I bought it to commit to the bit and satisfy my morbid curiosity.

So, it's impressively plotty enough with no smut (YMMV if that's disappointing or not). The entertaining part is learning my fave lost his memory from getting waterboarded so much and got his own government trying to catch or kill him. Love to see the typical organizational dysfunction that is the American government. Less fun discovery is that the Cheney-looking OC is not only corrupt as fuck but was also found to have been trafficking kids (including his own stepdaughter) and ends up assassinated instead of being brought to justice.

It's a shippy dj, so the main pairing get to kiss their feelings out at the end. Plus my favorite and underrated female character get to be cool. So that was fun and worth the effort.

Trawling through pixiv on a ship tag where one of the characters is American is an exercise in seeing the varying levels of an outsider's understanding of America. This can range from the usual tacky eagle imagery and stars and stripes to some actual attempt at understanding the culture and history.

Sometimes it's things like dressing the characters up in Billie Porter's Oscar gown or depicting them at a pride event. And sometimes we get into things like a hurt/comfort comic where the American character is processing the news of a school shooting (whether or not this is tasteful or not is really up to you).

So imagine my horror at finding Dick fucking Cheney in a casefic style doujinshi that's set in America, and this mfer is waterboarding and traumatizing one of my faves. Like, damn, I'm actually impressed.

#phantom rambling #being a grownup with an income means i can now make terrible decisions like buying fanmade comics from overseas #then sit on them for at least 2 more years until i reach any level of fluency to read them on my own without google lens assisting me #also found one dj where the same pairing fuck in a plane lavatory stop a plane hijacking and then propose marriage all in the same story #so... there's that #赤安

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ambiguouslady42 · 27 days ago

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Pairing: you (the little elf) x Byakuya Kuchiki. Lots of other really awesome Bleach characters too!

Genre: So much fluff. Action sequences and banter are similar to what you would find when watching Bleach.

WC: 5.6K

A Secret Santa @pixelcafe-network collab.

Note: Merry Christmas, Whitney (@cherryblossombankai)! I was your Secret Santa all along! I asked you all those questions, and this was the end result. I hope that you enjoy it. Writing this was a real treat for me and it reminded me why I fell in love with Bleach when I first started watching it. I hope that you get everything you want and more in 2025.

Major thank you to @actuallysaiyan and @villainsrtasty for the beta-read. <3

It’s December and you’re currently living in Karakura Town in Japan. This is your first time travelling far away from your family and friends. It felt like a sense of responsibility on your part to travel far away. From overseas, you’ve been hearing about people seeing strange figures. The investigative journalist within you thought it was farfetched that people could be seeing things. Curiosity piqued and you had to go and see this for yourself. The choice was spontaneous, despite acknowledging that you would miss out on the holiday season and your traditions; Matching pyjamas and Christmas movies are your comfort and your home, but for now, there are more pressing matters to address.

You took your time to become familiar with the locals of Karakura Town. You felt that you needed to ask if they had seen anything out of the ordinary, but most of them just either shrugged at you or gave you a glaring look before walking away. However, this did not deter you. You would do this daily from morning until nightfall. At the end of your day, you would stop by Mr. Urahara’s shop and grab a snack before heading back to your place. He always gave you a polite smile and made small talk with you.

“Did anybody talk to you today?” he would ask politely and hide his smile with his fan.

“No, they just look at me like I’m crazy, and then walk away. Can’t force people to talk to me if they don’t want” you said with exhaustion in your voice.

“If not today, maybe tomorrow!” he exclaimed.

“Thanks, Mr. Urahara” you responded with a small smile.

You acquired an apartment near the shop. You often had ramen, your snacks, and a Ramune. Occasionally, you’d have a few beers, but you try to avoid it to not make it a habit. The ache to know never stops; you don’t cease doing the research at home. You had a map layout of the places where the occurrences transpired. You would mark an “x” where you made an effort to talk to the locals in that area. You’re yet to go to two more areas to explore; nearby the clinic and the local high school. You prepare to go to bed and close your eyes tightly as you tell yourself, “I wish this is all real and I’m not just chasing a phantom.”

Morning arrives and with haste, you prepare a cup of coffee before heading out to start your day. Unbeknownst to you, Mr. Urahara watches you walk whenever you pass by and covers his face with his fan; he knows something, but it is not his place to get involved with the matters that you’re seeking answers to. He knows that when the time arrives, he will step in place to help you or anyone else who requires his help.

You walk towards the high school. You attain permission to enter campus and walk around the field. You observe students exercising on this brisk morning. You take out your notebook and write down what allegedly transpired in this field. As you’re about to assume it’s another dead end, you hear students screaming. This alarms you and you wonder where the danger is. You stop one student and ask them if they’re okay. All you see is fear in their face; they look and point in the opposite direction.

“Can’t you see it?!” they say as their teeth jitter and their entire body shakes before running away.

You start to walk in that direction and overhear students asking.

“What’s wrong with them? There’s nothing there!”, they laugh.

The joke is on them because suddenly one student is lifted mid-air and is seen to disappear. To your horror, you see a faint figure. It’s not very clear, but you see there’s something that is not of this world. Although, this time, you’re paralyzed. You want to scream and run as you see this monster, but you can’t. The monster begins to approach you and you can’t move. “Is this the end?” you thought.

Just as you thought the end was near, eyes clenched and with shallow breaths, you hear a loud crash. As you slowly open your eyes, you see a tall man with orange, spiky hair. He holds a large blade as he strikes the monster on its shoulder. There is blood spraying, but you can’t manage to move. Suddenly, you feel a tug on your arm.

“We have to go, MOVE!” commands the other stranger. It’s a short woman with a short black hair. Although small, she is strong and you feel her strength as she yanks out of harm’s way. You notice that she has a katana, but hasn’t drawn it yet. One thing you observe about both these individuals is that they’re wearing black robes and traditional footwear. You are curious if this is usual in Japan, or what their role is right now. You turn to look and the one with the orange hair strikes the monster head-on. Within a moment, the monster is obliterated and suddenly you see a human with chains. “Thank you,” says the stranger out loud and you observe them slowly disappearing. Having witnessed a lot, your vision goes black. “Hey! Stay with me!” you hear through an echo.

You awaken and notice that you’re on the ground, resting on someone’s lap. It’s the same woman who pulled you away from the danger. You observe the other person who obliterated the monster earlier standing over you; his demeanour is serious, but clearly, he must care about your well-being if he remains there. You slowly get up and have a lot of questions.

“Take it easy, are you alright?” he asks.

“Yeah, I’m not sure if I just fainted or was dreaming”, you feel as if you had the wildest fever dream.

“About that…”, says the woman. “What do you remember right now?”

“I saw a monster, then I saw a human in chains, then they were just…gone?” you respond, but you feel crazy as you say this out loud. The two looking over you don’t try to deny what you saw.

“That wasn’t a monster…it’s called a hollow. The hollow was once a lost human soul, and now they’re finally at peace.”

“What? I don’t understand,” you state with a grim face.

“That’s alright, it is a lot to take in at the moment. You technically aren’t supposed to see hollows, but you’re okay.” says the woman. “Allow us to introduce ourselves, I’m Rukia, and this is Ichigo. We’re soul reapers and we’re in charge of making sure souls can leave this place in peace.”

“This place being…Earth?” you inquire.

“Yes. Whenever a human is left to roam after passing, they remain here because they haven’t been able to find peace. Over time they can become hollows, so we just assist them in finding that.” Rukia says gently.

You scramble to find your notebook, but then you feel a grip on your wrist. “It would be best if you keep this information to yourself…it’s not meant to be common information for humans to know about this.” Rukia continues.

Disappointment lingers as you are piecing together why humans disappear and what people have been able to see; they are like ghosts, but now it feels like a secret that you could never reveal to others. “What are you doing in Japan? Was this a crazy idea?” You thought to yourself. As you sit in the ground contemplating you notice a shift in their demeanour.

Rukia is looking with a look of shock and Ichigo is glaring.

“B..brother…what are you doing here?” Rukia asks, and then you look in the direction where she’s looking at.

You see possibly the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. His long, dark hair was a feature that stood out, but also his facial features were wonderful to look at. However, his stern face signalled to you that he currently isn’t here for any nonsense.

“Let’s go, Rukia, you have no reason to be amongst these…humans.”

Suddenly, you’re filled with defiance. You stand up and get in front of Rukia. There was something that encouraged you to not be afraid of this person.

“With all due respect, she saved my life, and this human you refer to would be dead if it weren’t for her. So leave her alone,” you spoke with calm ferocity.

He was confused that someone would ever speak to him in such a manner. He felt that he couldn’t relent to anyone who disrespected him, but he had an appearance to maintain.

“Who do you think you are?” he asked you with poison in his tone.

You tell him your name, refusing to be intimidated by him, even though he is distracting to look at.

“As nice it is to meet you, I need to make sure that my sister is safe and comes home with me. I don’t have time for formalities”

“Yeah, and what if she doesn’t want to go home with you, Byakuya?” Ichigo speaks up.

“Do you want to do something about it? I don’t think you can substitute Soul Reaper,” Byakua shoots back.

Rukia noticing the tension mount, steps in front of you. “Stop it, I’ll go along with you…” Rukia yields.

“No, you’re not. You don’t have to go with him if you don’t want to,” you interject.

Then you get a brilliant idea. “What if he stays here?” you say loudly, pointing to Byakuya.

“Here?! Amongst us?!” Ichigo responds with shock on his face.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but if he wants to protect her so badly, he could just stick around.” you persist.

“No way!” Ichigo shouts. “There’s no room in my…” he stops. He realizes that he can’t state where Rukia is currently staying at his house. “It’s getting pretty crowded, and I don’t have time to host anyone else.” Ichigo scoffs.

“Well, I have room in my place, but it’s rather small…” you quietly say.

“Then it’s settled, I’ll stay with the human,” Byakuya states.

“Brother…you don’t have to stay here,” Rukia responds.

“I need to know what you’re doing here amongst the humans…that’s if you’re doing anything at all. My job is to protect you, no matter what.” Byakuya asserts.

“Alright, so it’s settled. Rukia will stay with me, and HE can stay with her.” Ichigo declares.

You look at Rukia with uncertainty, but she nods to you as if she’s saying thank you for standing up to her. You have no idea what you just accepted right now, but you figured talking to a new person couldn’t hurt anyone…right?

Before everyone left you asked out loud, “Can anyone possibly help me out with helping him appear more…normal?”

Byakuya remained with a straight face, but internally, he felt embarrassed that a human was referring to his appearance as not normal. “Excuse me?” he asks. “I’ll have you know that I’m a Captain of the 13 Court Guard Squads.”

“While that sounds important, your sister informed me that the less I know, the better. Right now, unless you don’t want me to write about you, you need to stop talking,” you say firmly.

For once, he is astounded by the tone someone speaks to him. Aside from the disrespect he feels from you, he is also impressed that anyone can utter anything to him in a way where they don’t defer to him. He is not a God in your eyes, but you will not allow anyone to push you or anyone else around. He gazes at you and there’s a light blush on his cheeks, but he sighs accepting that he must resign. If he must be within his sister’s reach and stop causing chaos in the World of the Living, he must stay with this stranger.

“Alright. Ichigo Kurosaki, is there a way that I can maintain appearances here in the World of the Living.”

“Me?! How am I supposed to help you?” responds Ichigo.

Within moments, Rukia hits Ichigo in the back of the head, for the blatant disrespect that he just displayed to her brother. “Oh brother, it’s no trouble at all! I’m sure Ichigo can be of great help here!” with a cheerful tone when addressing her brother.

“Tch, fine, I’ll help. In the meantime,” Ichigo is looking in your direction, “you should come with us. Then he can go home with you or whatever…”

Realizing what you’ve signed up for, your face is bright red as you look in Byakuya’s direction. He observes the way you’re looking at home, and his face is flushed.

“Brother…is everything okay?” Rukia asks, concerned.

Byakuya clears his throat. “I’m fine.”

“Let’s get going, it looks weird that we’re all standing around here in this empty field,” Ichigo states.

As the four of you walk to leave the field, it’s silent. There is no small talk. Ichigo and Rukia are walking ahead of you. You look to your side and observe Byakuya. He is quiet and walks with a sense of purpose. However, you’re curious about what he could be thinking about. “Does he want to talk to me at all?”, you thought.

He did have a lot of thoughts. The quiet and reserved captain did have a lot on his mind. He worries about his younger sister. He thinks about seeing you in the World of the Living. To his surprise, he wasn’t expecting to meet someone from this world to stand out to him. He takes notice that you’re quiet but also outspoken. “What other thoughts or ideas lurk within you?”, he thought. Regretfully, he didn’t bother to ask you anything on this walk towards Ichigo’s house.

The walk remained silent and no one dared to say anything to break the tension. You get to Ichigo’s house and notice that this is the local clinic you often see when you’re walking around Karakura Town. it never stood out to you in any way, let alone that someone who calls themselves a Soul Repear would be living here.

As you enter the home you are greeted by Ichigo’s sisters. While they gave him the third degree and questioned why they brought so many guests, Yuzu, relents and offers you dinner. As they’re about to deny the gesture, your stomach grumbles loudly. Everyone turns around to look at you. You’re glowing from embarrassment, but Yuzu just happily serves you a plate of katsu curry with some rice. She tends to overcook for everyone and she immediately gestures to everyone to go sit at the dinner table.

Taking a bite of the warm meal, you feel a comfort in your stomach. It’s been so long since you had a proper meal that wasn’t just ramen noodles, coffee, energy drinks, or beer. There is a disappointment that lingers in the air as you cannot continue your investigation of what you thought would be a groundbreaking story. Byakuya chose to sit next to you, he looks at his meal curiously but does attempt to make a dent to not be impolite to his hosts.

You make a calculated effort to make small talk with this handsome person as he’ll be staying with you very soon. “Have you never had this type of food before?” you say quietly.

He looks over at you and acknowledges the effort that you’re placing. He remains stoic, “I can’t say I’ve had a meal like this, but I can say that I am enjoying it the best I can”, he answers coldly.

“I’m not from here actually, but I do find this meal comforting,” you say to him as you take another small bite.

“Oh? Are you not from the World of the Living?” with curiosity in his tone.

“I’m not from Karakura Town at all, or even this whole country. I hail from a different part of the world,” you share with him.

“Interesting. What brought you here?” he asks you. He is eager to know more about you. He is known within his circles to not make small talk, but you’re like a mystery waiting to be known.

“I wanted, no…I needed to hear about the hollows, as you call them. People have disappeared and I wanted to know more. However, I feel like it might not be safe to talk about it…”

“You’re correct. Humans shouldn’t know too much about hollows or the supernatural events that they witness. It would create chaos in the World of the Living, and it would make matters more challenging for us in the Soul Society.”

“Oh? The Soul Society?”

“Yes, that’s where I reside. It’s where spirits go when they pass on. I’m a captain, and I must protect the Soul Society, but also the World of the Living.”

“Am I an anomaly for being able to see hollows?”

“Not necessarily. It just means that you’re just able to see spirits and hollows alike. You would just have to be careful if you encounter a hollow.”

You reflect somberly. You realize that you did get lucky today that someone was there to save you from immediate harm, but you’re not sure if there will be a next time. Byakuya senses a shift, so he realizes he needs to make an effort to change the subject.

“Do you like sakura blossoms?” he asks you in a gentle tone.

The question catches you off guard, but there’s a warmth that you feel in thinking about this question. “I do, they’re one of my favourite flowers. I’d like to see them bloom in person someday”, you respond with a small smile on your face.

“Blossoms don’t typically bloom at this time of the year, but I might have something to show you a little later if that’s alright with you.” Byakuya shares with a small smile on his.

“Brother, is everything okay?” Rukia asks. She observed that you’re smiling for the first time in so long.

“I’m fine. Thank you.” He clears his throat.

The silence lingers again. Ichigo signals Byakuya to follow him upstairs. Karin and Yuzu take care of clearing the plates and signalling to you and Rukia that you are their guests. Rukia knows that they have a lot of questions about you, but she knows that she’s welcome in the Kurasaki household.

“So, what do you think of my brother?” Rukia asks nonchalantly.

“Oh, excuse me?” you choke on your sip of water.

“My brother isn’t one to make a lot of small talk. The fact that he made a genuine effort to talk to you might mean something. Don’t hesitate to take a chance if you feel happy right now.” Rukia says warmly.

The words ring in your mind. You accept that something is intriguing about Byakuya, but you’re unsure if he would ever want to be involved with a human. There’s a distance between you two. You are attracted to him, but you have no idea if you have a shot with him.

“I promise, he isn’t like this with anyone. Even with me, he doesn’t say a lot.” Rukia reassures you.

You sit there and contemplate the weight of her words, and he appears in your peripheral. The first thing that appears is a slight giggle from Rukia, who is struggling to hold in her laugh. Ichigo standing right behind him is also stifling his laughter.

“What’s so amusing?” Byakuya asks. When you’re able to take a good look, you’re the first to burst out into laughter. He appears to be wearing a Hawaiian-style shirt, khakis, and a blazer. He is still wearing the scarf around his neck, as he refuses to remove it. However, he did remove his hairpieces from his hair and decided to put his hair up in a bun.

“It doesn’t look bad…not that you look bad, it’s just different right now,” you respond with a small smile on your face. Your face feels hot in the moment and the room feels like it can suffocate you.

“Would you change anything?” he asks concernedly.

“I don’t think I can…I think you look great just the way you are.” you resign.

He takes notice of your gaze. His face turns slightly pink, but he tries to remain unphased and clears his throat.

You take note of the time and realize that it has been a long. You take a look at Byakuya. “Shall we get going?”

“Yes…thank you again Ichigo Kurosaki. This…will do.” he says as he looks at Ichigo’s direction.

“Take care, brother. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Rukia says quietly.

You take your leave and begin to walk outside the quiet streets. The streetlamps are and you feel a cool breeze between the both of you. You’re looking at him, but he doesn’t seem to say a lot. You’re unsure what you could say to him to break this silence.

“Do you often come into the…World of the Living?” you ask.

“No. I’ve been here on many occasions. The first time that I stepped foot here was to retrieve Rukia, and…well, that was eventually a misunderstanding. Ichigo Kuraski was a great help in…helping me see the error of my ways.” he states.

“Oh…I thought initially you had come here because of the holidays.”

“Well, if you mean Christmas, the Soul Society doesn’t necessarily celebrate it.”

“Oh.”

He notices that this conversation just ended, so he quietly thinks for a moment before saying something else.

“Do you…celebrate Christmas?”

“I do…but I won’t be able to see my family.”

“Why is that?”

“I came here for work, but now I have to get creative and find a different story. I can’t write about you or the hollows,” you state solemnly.

“No, but maybe…we could bend the truth a little.”

“How so?”

“I’m not in the habit of lying, but I’m sure there’s a way that you could talk about these…incidents without revealing who or what the Soul Society is.”

“I’m not supposed to lie, I’m a journalist,” you respond bluntly.

“I’m not telling you to lie. I’m simply telling you to bend the truth a little.”

“I’m not sure how to go about that. It’s still lying.”

“No, it’s not. You’re not understanding me…” he states with frustration in his tone.

“I can’t stand you sometimes,” you mutter quietly.

“Excuse me?” he challenges you.

Suddenly, there’s a shift. Byakuya senses an extreme amount of spiritual pressure coming out of nowhere. The air feels strange and it feels like you can’t move suddenly. You want to run away, but you can’t; he observes your inability and grabs you to get you as far away from the danger. You don’t realize that he moved you in an instant and suddenly you aren’t where you previously were walking.

“Stay here”, he commands. He quickly disappears and faces the danger.

He kept his zanpakto on him, exposed. He knew that there was always a possibility of danger, but it seemed that something attracted into the vicinity; it was you. He knows that’s a conversation that he’ll have to have later with you, but for now, he will address this problem. To his horror, he sees 6 hollows at the same time. There, is one hollow that is ferocious and hungry, complicating this matter. As the hungry one consumes and devours the weaker hollows, it turns into a Gillan, Menos Grande.

It’s not a problem that he cannot deal with, but he became concerned with you. He needs to hurry before they take notice of you. He quietly says “scatter”. His zanpakto breaks into little tiny blades. He concentrates on his opponent and attempts to destroy the Menos Grande. The little tiny blades do not even scratch the surface. You witness from a distance how calm Byakuya remains, but you’re afraid. There’s a loud screech and you are deafened by it. The Menos Grande does not take the attack well. You observe how angry it is and suddenly it opens its mouth. You’re panicked at how it directs the attack towards Byakuya.

Before the Menos Grade can attack with its Cero, Byakuya remaining calm says “bankai”. Within seconds before the ball of energy can be gathered, you observe a beautiful display of cherry blossoms. You watch how these beautiful blossoms are deadly. This beast never stood a chance as it became dissipated in an instant.

“Is this what he wanted to show me earlier?” you thought to yourself.

In moments, he comes back to your side. “Are you alright?”

“I am, but what’s going on? This is the second time this has happened today.” There are little tears flickering in your eyes. Without hesitation, Byakuya holds your hand for comfort. You look at him with the tears in your eyes.

“Why?” you quietly ask.

“I know this probably was a lot for you today. I’m going to make sure that you’re safe. It’s my duty to protect all humans.” his hand grips yours just a little tighter; a confirmation of a promise on his behalf that he will not let anything or anyone hurt you.

“Thank you. I don’t want to burden you though.”

“You’re not.” There’s a short pause. “I want to protect you.”

“Even if I’m a human?” you ask.

He has a light chuckle. “I’m supposed to protect humans too. I’m saying…” with a short pause “that I’ll make sure you don’t get hurt.”

You're speechless; you remain quiet as you are walking back to your apartment. You’re not sure how you feel about the gesture, but you remember what you meant to ask him.

“Did you want to show me your attack earlier?”

“Yes and no. In the case of earlier, those blossoms are part of my special attack. I could show you a display of blossoms…without hurting you.”

“Why?”

“After the horrors you saw today, I think you merit to see something beautiful.”

You stop walking and look in his direction.

“Do…you see something beautiful right now?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

He extends his hand and holds it. He takes a hold of your waist and you dash in an instant to the river. It’s just the two of you standing there. Out of nowhere, you see a flash of cherry blossom petals. It’s bright and beautiful to see. You’re in disbelief as you just met this person, and at first, you couldn’t stand him, but now, he’s showing this side of you out of nowhere. “What am I supposed to do now?” you thought.

“This is…wonderful. Thank you”, are the only words that you can mutter at this moment.

“Well, well! What a sight for sore eyes!” says someone.

You turn around and it’s Mr. Urahara. “What are you doing here?” you inquire.

“After I sensed that spiritual pressure and witnessed the Menos Grander earlier, I figured I should investigate what was happening. There’s a reason why I kept my eye on you.” his playful demeanour began to change to a more serious tone. “Since your arrival, the presence of hollows has increased in Karakura Town. I think there’s something about you that is attracting them; you smell of something and it makes them pop out like weeds. Luckily, your dashing Captain was here to save the day, but that’s not always the case for everyone.”

Byakuya remained silent while Urahara was talking. When Urahara was done talking, he interjected to ask, “Is there a way to keep Hollows from trying to find her?”

“Sure. If she wants to remain here in the World of the Living, she will need to wear this necklace. I’ve been working on something like this for a while to see if I can prevent hollows from appearing near the shop, wouldn’t want any hollow to eat my customers.”

“I thought I was only your only customer”, you pipe up.

Urahara’s face turns bright red. He conceals it with his fan. “Another way that you could avoid this is…if you were to stay within the Soul Society.”

“Why would you bring that up?”

“You may not take off that necklace. I also forgot to mention that this necklace is not a foolproof way to prevent hollows from appearing. It may be possible that they could follow you wherever you go. Whether it’s here or outside of Karakura Town. So option 2, you go live in the Soul Society.”

“Won’t I be considered dead?”

“Not necessarily; it doesn't mean you would have to stay there forever. You would just need to be with a Soul Reaper at all times just in case any incident occurs.”

You remain quiet. You’re already homesick as it is, but then this was dropped onto your lap.

“I’ll make sure she’s comfortable…” Byakuya says.

“Why would you do something for me?” you ask him.

“You didn’t ask for any of this. You are no burden to me, and as I said, I want to keep you safe and make you feel protected. Would you allow me this?”

You feel something in your stomach; butterflies are forming. Up until now, you didn’t think it would be possible to feel this right now. You admire his ability to be confident and the subtle way he shows you that he cares about you.

“Don’t hesitate to take a chance if you feel happy right now.” are the words that are ringing in your head.

“Okay, I’ll go. On one condition? I get to see my family when I can.”

“You can go for two seasons. You can go visit them in the Spring and Summer. You’ll be like a Goddess…gifting growth and splendour with your presence. I’ll be there, but I understand how important these trips to the World of the Living will be.”

“Byakuya…” you speak softly.

“I will protect you, respect you. If it becomes too much, just tell me. You’ll be comfortable, I guarantee that.”

“Then it’s settled! You’ll go to the Soul Society and you’ll have a knight in shining armour when you come back to visit.” Urahara says with glee.

Byakuya quietly glares at Urahara, but his expression changes upon looking at you.

“Wait? What about Christmas? I can’t miss it!”

“We do celebrate the holidays in the Soul Society, but not in the same way as you would here. To ensure your happiness…I will make sure to celebrate the holiday to your liking.”

“Okay.” you smile at him.

2 weeks later.

You spent your days at Byakuya’s manor. You had no idea he was of his nobility. He never bragged or talked about it, but your comfort was his primary priority. He always had his maids helping you get dressed for the day. You wanted to be respectful of Byakuya, so you wore a traditional kimono. The first moment he saw you, he told you how beautiful you looked. If the floor felt too hard for you, he immediately got extra pillows so your bum wouldn’t hurt. If it was raining, he’d hold an umbrella for you so you wouldn’t get wet.

He would do his Captain duties during the day, but he tried to settle for a routine when he could to spend time with you. You didn’t ask for any of this, but you liked the moments when you could just talk to him about his day. He enjoyed the quality time with you the most. He liked seeing you and making sure you were happy. You were content, but you felt like something was missing. He became aware of this when one of his maids shared that they caught you crying quietly in the garden.

One day before Christmas, you were blindfolded and escorted somewhere. You weren’t sure where you were going, but Byakuya held you by your hand.

“Almost there, I’m right here.” He told you.

You feel the blindfold come off. You open your eyes and see a giant screen, and it’s your family.

“Hello? Can you see us?” he asks.

“Yes! Oh my god! Why didn’t you tell us about this man? Why would you keep something like this from us?”

You feel tears forming. This man in some way must love you to talk to your family and schedule this video call with them.

“It just happened. He’s made sure that… I’m happy.” you say happily.

“When will get to meet him in person?” they continue to speak over each other.

“Maybe during the Spring? Can we visit for Spring and Summer?” you ask.

“Of course you can! We’ll show him everything there is to know about us and where we live.” your family replies ecstatically.

“I’m making sure that she’s happy, I would hate to let you and her down at any point,” Byakuya interjects.

“So when’s the wedding then?” someone asks.

“Okayyyy. That’s enough. Merry Christmas everyone!” you signal to Byakuya to hang up the call.

“Sorry about that. They can be…a lot sometimes,” you tell him with a hue of pink on your cheeks.

“It’s quite alright. As far as the wedding, it’s only until you say you’re ready. I’ll never force you to do anything.” he says warmly.

As you both are walking through the wide doors, Byakuya stops.

“Is there something wrong?” you look at him.

“No, but it seems there’s something above us.” he signals with his eyes that there’s mistletoe.

“You know about mistletoe?” you ask him with a slight smirk.

“No, but that’s why I had people tell me about Christmas traditions,” he says proudly. “So may I have the honour of kissing you?”

“Yes…you may.” your eyes close as his lips ghost yours. The kiss is as soft and gentle as you imagined.

“Merry Christmas,” he says and places a final kiss on your cheek.

#Bleach #bleach fanfiction #Bleach x reader #bleach x you #Byakuya Kuchiki x reader #Byakuya Kuchiki x you #Bykuya Bleach #byakuya x reader #Bykuya x you #Bleach fluff

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strayflowersstarsandlove · 5 days ago

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𝑻𝒐 𝑫𝒊𝒆 𝑭𝒐𝒓- hyunjin x reader x felix au fanfic

CHAPTER 5

6 - Call me friend but keep me closer

In and out of sleep, you've been sleepwalking in your own head for a few days now. Echoes of Hyunjin's wishes for you to move on and Felix' tormented confession about feeling used still swirling around in your brain.

You never meant to hurt anyone. Never meant to chain the actual love of your life to a gilded, phantom afterlife prison, never meant to trap another person into your own vicious cycles. The problem is you, you remind yourself, your own harsh voice pounding inside your head.

What if you had never met Hyunjin in high school? What if he got that scholarship that would have allowed him to go overseas for a few years? Perhaps he would have relinquished his citizenship, got a new one that would have allowed him to skip enlistment in the military, he would have never have died like that.

And you would have never met Felix. Never got him into your bed, never would have made him feel like a plaything to keep your needy self at bay.

Perhaps this is all you're good at: hurting. Both yourself and others. Perhaps all you attract is good people who are meant to be destroyed so you can destroy yourself in turn.

There is just no way you can be a good friend, a good daughter, a good girlfriend. People are hand grenades and you're a ticking one. Better to go off in an empty lonely space where nobody gets hurt but you.

"Miss? I'm so sorry ..miss? hello?". A middle aged lady with a greying perm and thick rimmed glasses shakes her hand in your face trying to get your attention and you're brusquely forced to snap out of your brooding, "oh-oh yah sorry, how can i help you?", you force a fake polite smile and proceed to help the lady find god knows what type of face serum in the store.

By the time you finally finish closing the store, your reddened knuckles sore from wiping clean the counter and all the exposition racks of products, the sky outside has gone a deep shade of blue that blends into black.

There are no stars in the night but a chilly wind is blowing, making you regret not wearing a warmer layer on top of your work clothes as you step out and lock the main door behind you. You stare at the empty parking lot and sigh, on the verge of spacing out like you did on the job as another empty soulless day has ended.

Your stomach grumbles and twists with hunger to the point where it makes you uncomfortable to listen to it even if you're alone in your car so you decide to stop at a 7/11 to quickly make yourself some ramen that you quietly eat while standing outside of your car, just people watching, your eyes steadily adjusting to the bright neon signs and the headlights of cars passing by.

You're cold, freezing even. But you don't care. The eerie, desolated sadness in your heart weighs you down: you're meant to be alone. Forever. Everyone will leave. Eventually.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?".

You startle, your head snaps in the direction of the familiar voice, your chopstick dropping into the empty cardboard bucket of ramen.

Felix walks over to you, holding his own plastic bag with likely his dinner steaming inside. "I just got off work and came here for some quick dinner", you reply quietly, your eyes carefully avoiding his somewhat concerned gaze, "yeah ... same here", he replies awkwardly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, a shiver running through his shoulders.

A beat passes before he dares speak again, his voice soft, tentative: "I... haven't seen you in a few days. How've you been?", you shrug and rest your back against the cold hard surface of the hood of your car, not really knowing what to say.

Your dead boyfriend still hounting your heart and your head and your sleep begging you to survive him isn't exactly on the plate for you to tell Felix right now, so you settle for the cringiness of your shared silence.

Felix blinks a few times and frowns deeply before speaking again: "I understand if you don't want to talk to me or even just see me. I should've called you and apologised sooner y/n, I regret lashing out at you like I did a few days ago. You didn't deserve that." Always the bigger person, he tries to take a step towards you, offering a sincere apology, you can tell.

You shrug once again, shaking your head dismissively, "I probably deserved that. It's okay", you mumble non commitedly, back to staring at your feet so you don't have to face the sincere sorrow in Felix's magnetic gaze, "it's not okay, you're not -you don't deserve that. I'd take everything back if I could, even though I did mean it when I said I want to be there for you and I-can we-can we just -", he stutters, pausing to shiver and observe the slight tremble in your limbs too.

Felix reaches out for your wrist, which he gently holds, "you're freezing", he says softly, his roughned thumb skimming the blueish vein running up the delicate skin peeking from your sleeve, disregarding his own discomfort, "can we go talk in my car? please?".

Talk. Talk. Talk. It seems like everyone wants to talk to you while you'd just rather curl up at the bottom of your bed and sleep your remaining days away.

Shifting in your seat uncomfortably, you rub the tiredness off your eyes, trying to keep them open, staring straight ahead of you while Felix turns in his driver seat to face you. He observes you for a little while, not speaking, clearly rushing through his thoughts as the chilly air of the night tries to permeate the cabin of his car. He turns on the warm air set and suddenly the smell of his cologne and his now cold dinner seeps through the air vents, which should make you feel more comfortable, make it so you're sitting in a familiar space.

But it does the opposite for you don't want to be here and you don't want to face him and you don't know how to talk. Closed off, the seals around your heart tight and impenetrable.

"I miss Hyunjin. I miss him a lot. It felt like my left arm got amputated when he died, and the stub never fully healed. The phantom pain is still there, the reflex is still there too. Sometimes I hear a song that he used to love and my hear starts to ache, like an invisible hand is squeezing at it."

Felix knows he's now got your full attention when your eyes snap to him, a flicker of recognition in them for you know that exact feeling and experience it multiple times a day over the most mundane of things. Everything reminds you of him.

If you're not going to talk you're at least going to listen, you think to yourself, crystalized words stuck in your throat for the moment. You give him a silent hint, a mere blink of your eyes in his direction, but Felix understands nonetheless, the miniature most minuscule sign of understanding coming from you is enough for him to go on.

"It's going to sound ridiculous but I think he was my brother in spirit. Like the familiarity, the homely-ness I used to find in him I never found with anyone else, even when we used to spend months apart a time cause I was still split between here and Australia, it truly fetly like we were always together, always connected in a way".

A pause in his speech, as if he's physically in pain just uttering out his own words, Felix narrows his eyes and purses his lips before continuing: "I loved the way his mind worked, the outlook he had in life, I remember almost being jealous of the way he manged to see life through his eyes and his heart, it felt like he saw colors and sounds in everything, he had such a burning passion for exploring and seeing things and appreciating art in it's every form".

The trips to Busan, to sunny Jeju. The trips to Tokyo. Wild eyes taking in every color of the cherry blossoms and citrus fruits hanging on the branches in the orchards you used to visit together. The vibrancy of the Harajuku district captured in his expensive camera, the million different recreation of the street art he saw there.

The impulsive jewellery purchases and the red guitar hanging on his wall. Pottery projects half abandoned on his nightstand, the scattered poetry pages he stuck to his walls.

It all comes back to you in splash of color before your closed eyes again. It's hard to breathe again.

"I've spent these past few years trying to reconcile all these memories that I have if him, the immense hole he left in my heart with the fact that I sometimes get so overwhelmed by sadness it feels like I can only cope with his loss by trying to fill the void he left with... You".

Another brief pause, this time you struggle to let out a silent wheeze.

"Like my brain fully shuts down when I'm with you. And then I go back home and guilt engulfs me, swallows me whole. Isn't it weird? Like I'm doing this to myself, I actively choose to spend the night at your place and it feels fucking amazing for a sec. And it's kind of like... like.. ",- " like you're okay for while? Like you don't HAVE to think about him?".

You didn't even mean to interject but Felix's confession felt so real, so close to your own way of explaining things to yourself and psyching yourself into fucking him for another night that you just couldn't stop yourself from talking. Felix nods silently, mouth slightly agape, that terrible sadness behind his eyes so apparent even in the moonlight.

"It came out all wrong cause I was very upset last time but.... I do mean it when I said I don't think this healthy for us. I think part of me, the more lucid, conscious part of me also thinks that if I can be your friend than guilt won't feel so overbearing. But I'm also aware that.. that I can just snap out of it, if that makes sense. I feel like... I feel like I need you, in both ways".

"Felix I don't know how to be your friend. I don't do friends".

Cold. Blunt as a scissor cut. You now stare at him dead in the eyes, trying to convey just how convinced you are you're not supposed to get closer to him. Or anyone. For the matter.

No matter how much you felt like his words could've have been your own, no matter how much resemblance his feelings about the two of you acting out your inability to cope with pain have to your own, no matter how much his sadness hit incredibly close to home.

"I don't know how to to that either. But I want to try, y/n. I think we've reached a point where it's just - we're just going in circles. A temporary fix for a much deeper rooted problem. How long can we keep doing this? Just fucking and fighting and then starting all over again? Will we ever be able to form any sort of deeper connection with anyone else at any point if we're so codependent on this thing and each other? ". Felix matches your exact bluntness, though there is an underlying gentleness in the way he's trying to get his point across.

You tut and chuckle bitterly, shaking your head in disbelief,"why can't you see that there is nothing else left for me, Felix? I'm not pouring out myself and my pain to anyone else, I don't have anything else to offer but pain. I don't want to date anyone else, I don't care for friends. All I want is to shut my brain and if I can't do that with you, it's fine. I'm not forcing your to stay and I won't call you up ever again. You are free to go, Lix. Go fix yourself".

Hyunjin's whole spiel about you needing Felix to move on and him needing you as well, Hyunjin himself sacrificing his own love for you because he doesn't want you to throw your life aways spins and spins and spins in circle in your brain with a mighty force.

Coward. Ungrateful. Stubborn. You're breaking three hearts in just one snap of your fingers.

Go on then. Go.

A hand already on the handle of the door, you try to climb out of the car but Felix stops you, his fingers circling your wrist, a grip not strong enough to hurt you, a grip not even strong enough to actually stop you, he, in fact, lets go of you the second you hesitate on your own will.

"Stay. Y/n, stay, please. I see more than just pain in you. I wish you could let me show it to you too, I wish you could stay, not for me, but for yourself. I wish you could give yourself a chance".

Your heart slamming in your chest, you hold on onto the two big warm orbs staring at you, pleading you to stay. His breath hitches in his throat, he smiles weakly, no he doesn't even smile. It's just the corner of his lips pointing slightly upwards while the look on his face is defeated but kind.

Sighing deeply, you swallow down the urge to run away once again, and with much effort you close the door and sit back down in your seat, gulping down air as though not enough oxygen is entering your lungs.

It's quiet. Both of you enveloped in a tense silence. Aware of each other's breathing and galloping hearts.

"Thank you", Felix says softly, the murmur coming out in his deep voice just loud enough for you to catch it, and you nod tenteitively. Heavy. You feel so heavy. The unspoken weight of both of your admission to the sorrow you feel so large it occupies the entire space of the cubicle.

"My nana used to say we humans are a bit like mismatched jars. We try to stuff so many things inside the little container we are ourselves, forgetting that everything takes space and we're the ones supposed to change in size and not the things we burden ourselves with".

Averting your eyes from the deep blue night outside of the window, you turn back to the blond young man still staring ahead of him, apparently lost in thought, "what if grief occupies all of my internal space? What if pain is so big and it is all there is room for?", you inquire, your eyes focusing on the few twinkling stars appearing in the sky.

"Pain won't shrivel. Like grandma said, we are the ones supposed to grow around things. If you grow into a bigger jar than pain won't be the only thing in there, it won't take up all that space", "and how do I do that? How do I grow into a bigger jar?".

Only letting your words longer in the air for a minute, Felix turns to you, eyes serious but hopeful: "you put more things that make you happy inside the jar. You open yourself up to people and things that bring joy in your life, and little by little you'll grow, and you'll be able to fit even more things in there, and pain won't go away, it won't squeeze itself tiny in the midst if it all but it won't be the only you feel in there".

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