#aged up hitsugaya

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Hello! I was wondering, if you'd like, could you write a hc for Toshiro, Shinji and Shunsui (and if you'd like to add any other characters), dealing with a fem!reader who just won't confess her love, even though it's very obvious? It can be fluff or smut, whatever you prefer. I would love to see what you come up with! Thank you very much in advance! 💗

Bleach Men and Shy Reader

Hello! Sorry it took me a while to get to this! I'm always struggling to keep characterization accurate which is why this took forever. I love this request btw. So I just didn't get a HC feel for this because I felt like half the fun was in the dialogue of getting reader to confess. So I wrote scenarios instead. Hope you don't mind! ^_^' All fluff, slightly suggestive at places but mostly harmless.

icons by @/pfpanimes and @/xoxomyseriesxoxo

Toshiro (aged up)

"Y/n, I think we're good. We got all the information we need."

Toshiro runs a hand through his hair, his sharp blue eyes narrowing as he takes in their surroundings one last time. Their surveying mission had gone well and he was hoping to get back to Soul Society before the sun sets.

"Y/n...?"

He looks around, then his face turns into a look of exasperation as he sees you petting Hyorinmaru like a puppy. Even Hyorinamru seemed to be enjoying the attention, eyes closed, making a loud rumbling noise which he supposed could be comparable to a cat purring.

You were some distance away so he starts to walk over to you as you press your forehead against the large ice dragon's face. It was perplexing why Hyorinmaru behaved the way he did around you, but of course, zanpakuto were mainifestations of their owners. Hitsugaya's face relaxed slighty and took on a softer expression as you continued to play with Hyorinmaru. He was also uncomfortably aware of the way his heart beat a little faster when you were around. Perhaps that's why his zanpakuto behaved similarly.

You were cooing at the large blue dragon. "You're such a good boy. The best ice dwagon...yes..."

You press a kiss to Hyorinmaru's face. Softly, you then say, "I wonder if Hitsugaya taicho feels it when I kiss you..."

Hitsugaya freezes, wondering if he should say something. He didn't feel it, but wouldn't it be wondrous if he could?

"Y/n," he calls out, making you jump. Your face turns red, and you quickly try to compose yourself.

"Hitsugaya taicho! I apologize, I didn't hear you. Are we done with our mission?"

"Yes...I believe we are." He hesitates before saying, "What were you telling Hyorinmaru before?"

You feel your heart racing and try to brush off his question. "It's nothing! I was just being silly. He's a very sweet dragon."

"Yes, I suppose he can be..."

A moment of awkward silence passes between you both before you say, "We'd better get back to Soul Society huh?" Trying to pass over your awkward exchange, you slip past Hitsugaya and start walking back. Hyorinmaru vanishes a minute later as Hitsugaya follows you.

After a few minutes, Hitsugaya quietly says, "I can't feel it."

Your heart skips a beat. Surely you must have heard wrong. "I'm sorry, what?"

"I can't feel it when you kiss Hyorinmaru."

A jolt of electricty runs through you. Had he heard that?! "Oh, well good. That would have been weird."

"Yeah I guess so...but...would it be a bad thing?"

"Would what be a bad thing?"

"If I could feel it."

You feel like your heart may leap out of your chest. A nervous laugh bubbles out of you. "Well you can't so...I guess we'll never know!"

"I mean you could just tell me."

Your words catch in your throat. When you talk again, they come out shaky. "Tell you what?"

"If it's good or bad."

A very palpable, tense, moment lingers between both of you. All that can be heard is the rustling of your robes and your footsteps as the both of you continue to walk.

"I guess...it wouldn't be...too bad, right?" You offer.

"No, I don't think it would be." Hitsugaya looks directly at you. "Those words weren't meant for Hyorinmaru to hear excusively were they?"

You look away. "Well I wasn't saying it out loud intentionally if that's what you mean."

"What's the worst that could've happened? If you had said those words to me?"

"You may have gotten the wrong impression of me..."

"Wrong impression? So you don't like me?"

Well you had kind stepped right into that question. "I...I..."

Why was it so hard to admit your feelings? Your eyes squeeze shut.

"Hey, y/n. It's ok." Hitsugaya pats your shoulder reassuringly. "How about this? I'll bring out Hyorinmaru. You can tell him whatever you want. If that makes it easier."

You look at him with gratitude in your eyes. You knew you weren't getting out of this one until Hitsugaya had a satisfactory answer.

With a small swish of reiatsu, Hyorinmaru appears in front of you. You look into the striking blue eyes of the dragon, so similar to its owner, and take its face between your hands.

"Hey Hyorinmaru," you say softly. "So, I just wanted to say. I think I like someone, and he knows it. But...I'm scared to admit my feelings because...deep down...I feel like he's worthy of someone more talented and special. So if you have an answer to this, please let me know."

Warm hands wrap around your waist and to your surprise, Hitsugaya pulls you against him, resting his cheek on the back of your head.

"Is this enough for an answer?"

You take a deep breath, cheeks pink as a peach.

"Yeah. More than enough."

Shinji

You and Shinji trudged back to his quarters after a particularly tiring mission. It wasn't uncommon for you recuperate in his quarters because his place was simply the closest to the gate when getting back into the Seiretei. And after a long gruelling mission, questions about appropriateness get tossed out the window.

Your muscles ache and you feel your reiatsu pulse as you force yourself to walk. The comforting feeling of the courtyards near Shinji's quarters fill your senses.

"Not too far along now y/n. You can shower first this time."

You look at Shinji side eyed, remembering how the last time he'd hidden the soap when you had made a dash to the bathroom to shower first.

Clearly he was remembering it too because he smirks at you and says, "How about next time, you bring your own soap, you freeloader?"

"I'm a rookie shinigami, taicho. I hardly make enough to afford luxuries like soap." You respond sarcastically.

"You just wanna use mine because you like the way I smell. Admit it. You get off on having my scent on your skin." Shinji says teasingly, giving you a shit-eating grin.

The color rises in your face and you look away. It was true but you couldn't admit that. Instead you say, "As if. Like I enjoy smelling like your cheap deodarant."

"And how would you know my deodarant smells cheap? Have you been going through my toiletries y/n? Like some kind of pervert?" Shinji nudges you playfully.

"Why I might have to start hiding my boxers, in case I find you in my room sniffing around at night."

"Eeewww," you say, wrinkling your nose. You start to walk faster so that you're ahead of him, not wanting him to see how fantastically red your face is getting.

Chuckling, Shinji sprints after you, grabbing the back of your shihakusho, and bringing you to his side, arm draping possessively around your shoulders so that you can't move.

"Taicho," you say through gritted teeth. "What would happen if someone sees us this way? It's very unbecoming of a captain."

"Strange, I don't seem to recall you saying that whenever you crash at my place after a mission." Shinji stops walking and turns so that he's facing you, blocking your way, a hand on each of your shoulders.

You can't look at him now, and drop your gaze. "That's...different. I sleep in your spare bedroom. We both know that and would say the same. But this kind of behavior...out here in the open...someone might mistake us..."

"Mistake us how exactly?" Shinji presses, not relenting at the fact that you're barely able to keep your head up now. "Mistake us as...lovers?"

He drawls the last word and you squeeze your eyes shut. Your heart races and you can't seem to think of a comeback. He was so close to you and his hands were holding on tight.

"N-no," you stammer, trying to keep calm.

"No? What else could they mistake us for that's gotten you so red?" Shinji takes a step closer to you and grasps your chin, lifting you face up to look at his. Helpless, you look into his brown eyes which are looking at yours with amusement.

When you fail to reply, he continues. "There's plenty of reasons they could mistake us for lovers, y/n. I mean, we cuddle on the couch."

"That's because-"

"We've eaten together so many times I've lost count." He barrels over your objection. "Your toothbrush is in a cup on my bathroom counter. Do I need to keep giving you more examples about how unconventional our relationship is? It definitely isn't a captain-subordinate one anymore."

Caught, you try to jerk your face out of his grip which only tightens. "Well, doll? Because if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're living with me, but you seem to be trying to convince yourself otherwise."

"I-that's-" you sputter, trying to retort. "How about the fact that we don't feel that way about each other? Doesn't that count for anything?" you say desperately, hoping for a final chance to keep your heart from getting hurt.

Shinji's expression changes from amusement to thoughfulness. "Don't feel that way about each other...hmm...so...why am I teasing you this way? Why do I allow you to cuddle up to me when we're watching TV? Why am I here, forcing you to look at me, and making my intentions known if I don't feel that way about you?"

Your heart skips a beat and you quit struggling. He couldn't possibly...?

"And why are you blushing so much when I say all this? Why haven't you stopped looking at my lips this whole time?" His voice becomes a soft timbre and his hands drop from your shoulders to your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Why are you so resistant to what you're feeling towards me?"

Your chest swells with emotion as his words wash over you. For the longest time, you'd hidden your feelings, hoping he wouldn't notice. Because how embarrssing and cliche? A subordinate falling for her captain?

"I...may...like you as more...than my captain..." You admit grudgingly.

"There we go. Now was that so hard?" Shinji rests his thumbs on your cheeks, stroking gently. "For the record, I'm not playing around. I'm serious."

You peek up at him. "Promise?"

"Well...I'm not a fan of making promises I can't keep- OUCH!" Shinji lets out a yelp of pain as you shove him hard in the ribs before scurrying off towards his quarters.

Humbled, he quickly chases after you. "Y/n! I am dead serious! I didn't mean to hurt your feelings!"

When he hears you laughing, his eyes narrow.

"Very well then doll...I suppose I'll have to torture the confession out of you while hiding the soap again...maybe this time after you've gotten in the shower..."

Shunsui

Your eyes roam over the voluptous shinigami talking to Shunsui. He certainly seems to have a type. You sigh and try to focus on your own work. Being an aide to Shunsui has been insightful in terms of getting experience but also an eye-opening period where you would see how many women seem to sidle up to him for attention.

Shunsui chuckles at the woman before she saunters out, hips swaying. He fixes his hat and stretches, the neck of his shihakusho slipping down to reveal his toned pecs.

Such a slut you think to yourself as you try to finish your paperwork. Although, truth be told, you weren't sure if that was entirely true. Women went up to him all the time, sure. How many of those women made it back to his quarters was another question entirely. Not as many as people thought, according to Nanao.

Shunsui glances over at you, a cheeky smile widening over his face. "Enjoying the view?" he teases, as you suddenly flush, realizing you'd been staring shamelessly at his chest for the past minute.

"N-no," you stammer. "Just wondering how brazen you must be to have your shihakusho practically untied while in the office."

"Not as brazen as my subordinate who's been visually feeling me up," he shoots back with a wink.

You quickly look back to your paperwork. Was it your fault he was an attractive looking man for his age? You heart thuds in your chest and you take a deep breath to calm down. This does not go unnoticed by Kyoraku who puts his face on his palm, leaning on his desk looking at you.

"Let's get a drink tonight."

Surely you misheard him. "...What?"

"I know you heard me y/n." He chuckles, a rich, low, rumble emanating from his throat. "And based on what I've seen, I think you've imagined more than having a drink with me."

Your throat goes dry. "You got that...from a one-off look?" Your words come out like a croak.

"Well darling, you've been making eyes at me all evening. Thought I'd save you the trouble." He gets up from the desk and wanders over towards you.

Your brain goes into panic mode. "I-I can't. Busy today."

"Ah hm...I see." Shunsui says in that lazy way, getting closer to you. "Busy. So very busy. Tell me. What plans do you have tonight that you're too busy to get a drink with your captain?"

Your mind blanks out at his question. Seeing the look of disarray on your face, Shunsui offers you a sympathetic pat. "I can give you a minute if you need to come up with an excuse. Maybe pretend to watch the birds outside?"

Your cheeks burn at his suggestion. "Unnecessary. Clearly I don't have one. Apart from I don't want to."

"Now why's that? I like you, and you seem to return the feeling. I've been around long enough to know when a woman is interested in me. So what's the problem?"

"I'm your subordinate. And with your reputation I don't wish to be another statistic in your book."

"Statistic?" Shunsui looks at you with sharp eyes. "Darling, how many women do you think I've been with?"

"I don't know. 2000 years is a long time."

He looks stunned at your words then sighs deeply. "I don't know what you're thinking, but I'm not thinking of making you a 'statistic'. I actually like you."

Your heart races. "Say that again."

"I like you. I'm not too proud to hide how I feel. Now how about you stop insulting me and admit you like me too?"

You take a deep breath. "I'll have a drink with you."

"Well that's a start I suppose."

"And tie up your damn shihakusho."

"And miss the chance to have you stare at me all night?" Shunsui's eyes glitter with mischief. "I think not."

[electronicwitchcollection]

Random thought swimming around my hollow head today 🙃

The Captains does secret Santa for Christmas

No one besides Ukitake and Komamura wanted to take part. Ukitake stole Shunsuis hat to place all the names in

Everyone is praying that they aren’t the one Kurotsuchi picked

Kensei pulled Soi fon , Shinji convinced him (with copious amounts of alcohol) that she wouldn’t want the weight set he had picked out, and instead tricked him she would want sexy underwear. They’re still looking for Kensei. Kenpachi couldn’t care less, didn’t even look at the name he pulled. Yachuru however loved it (and made all the vice captains do their own secret santa, in which all the names in the hat were her own) and drew a picture on Ikkakus head for Ukitake, she made Ikakku follow him around all day so he could enjoy her drawing, which he very much did. Ikakku did not.

Byakuya got Kenpachi. Gifted him a dictionary. He uses it to keep the door open when it’s hot.

Shinji pulled Komamura. Jokingly gave him dog biscuits from the world of the living. He loved them. Shinji couldn’t hide his disgusted face as he watched him chow down

Kurotsuchi pulled Shinjis name. He gave Shinji a Reccord. Pleasantly surprised he went home to listen to it, it was 4 hours of Mayuri screaming. He knew it was four hours long because Kurotsuchi modified it to be unable to removed until it finished. Nothing he could do could turn it off. He hated this damn secret Santa.

Histugaya was probably the only one to doing something normal. Pulled Byakuya, bought him fancy tea. Ukitake pulled Kensei, thought he needed a hobby to help with his anger issues, bought him a bonsai tree. He actually quite liked it. Spent ages tending to it while hiding from soi fon

Komamura got Hitsugaya. After struggling to come up with an idea, he asked Ukitake who seemed friendly with the young Captain. He was baffled and delighted at the multiple gift baskets filled with sweets, chocolates and toys Ukitake already had prepared, and offered him one to give to him. Hitsugaya really wished he would get older already

Soifon got Mayuri. She gave him a ridiculous amount of fancy machinery used for all kind of experiments. Some he hadn’t even heard of and enjoyed figuring out what they were and what they did. That was until a pissed off Urahara came to try and get back all his belongings that had been stolen him. Apparently Hachi was good on his promise and sealed Urahara away using kido, Soi fon very much enjoyed as Urahara watched helplessly as she stole all his things

Shunsui picked his own name, and never mentioned it. He bought himself a bottle of sake and made a big show about gifting it to himself and then thanking himself. He thoroughly enjoyed himself. Sipping on his own gift to himself while watching the madness unfold

Yamamoto banned secret Santa the following year due to too many fights breaking out

I know it’s ages away. But merry Christmas 😂

[aerie-skysinger]

Kakasaku Week 2023

Day 2: Someone Else’s Show

Category: Wingman/woman

Background: Hitsugaya and Matsumoto from Bleach; Sakura aged up for Rangiku and Kakashi aged down for Toshirou. I went with Captain and Lieutenant in an attempt to fill the chosen category as each other’s wing man/woman.

@kakasaku-week-2023

[recurring-polynya]

Man, I really do not care about the Quincy and I have spent a lot of time avoiding thinking too deeply about the Quincy, but we're getting onto that part of the new anime and also @troius has been posting about them a lot lately and I have been forced to think about them and they really just don't make any damn sense.

For starters: confession time! The weird, pseudo-medieval place where the Bazz - Jugram flashbacks took place? I always assumed that took place inside the Schatten Bereich. It was never clear to me whether the Quincy lived mortal life spans (why shouldn't they? aren't Quincy just humans with powers?) or whether they were, like, ghosts of Quincy. (The shinigami slaughtering the Quincy and then they just show up in Soul Society one-by-one and have to evade the ghost cops and find each other again and create a secret empire would actually have been pretty cool imo) I guess the real answer is that by staying inside Soul Society, they become like souls and never age? That if, for example, the Karakura Kids had stuck around in Soul Society after the Soul Society arc, the same thing would have happened to them?

Anyway, I guess I had assumed that the Quincy just lived this parallel existence inside a place that was very much like Soul Society, complete with bizarro mismatches of time period and fashion and technology. I thought this all took place, like 15 years ago? Or, possibly, if the Schatten Bereich does have similar properties to Soul Society, it could have taken place something on the order of 50-100 years ago, giving their story a similar timeline to most of our "main" shinigami characters (Rukia and Renji, Hinamori and Hitsugaya, Gin and Matsumoto, for ex)

Apparently, I was wrong, and all that took place 1000 years ago. Where, exactly? Why are there no historical records of this? Or are there, and Ichigo just slept through it in history class?

This implies that all the Sternritter characters have been living together in this Quincy pocket dimension for 1000 years (putting them on the same age paradigm as Kyouraku and Ukitake), which just rings really dumb to me. They're so intense. I feel like Bazz and Jugram should have either made up or killed each other long before this. I can't believe that Bambi has been sex-murdering dudes for 1,000 and everyone still lets her do it. Don't get me wrong! Problematic people living together for 1,000 can definitely happen! This was the entire plot of Harrow the Ninth! But the Lyctors in Harrow act like people who have lived together for an impossible amount of time: they have an unspeakable weight to their relationships that the Sternritter completely lack. (Also, why is their clothing so modern??? Ishida's been harping on Quincy Style since we met him, but where did it come from if most of the Quincy have been off-plane since before the Crusades???)

Furthermore, what about the Quincy in the World of the Living? Did the Schatten Bereich? This morning, I was reading this troius post, which points out that maybe the Wandenreich should have wanted revenge on Mayuri for what he did to them, and to Ishida Souken in particular. But maybe they didn't give a shit about Living World Quincy? They certainly didn't seem upset (or possibly even aware) of the Auswählen that killed Masaki and Katagiri. There are a couple times that some of the Sternritter make reference to some of them being younger, and not knowing things that happened the first time around. Were more of them recruited from the World of the Living?

It seems like this was the case with Äs Nödt. I wonder if he even knew he was a Quincy before Yhwach showed up in his hospital room. Is it possible that the reason he's in the hospital is because of the Auswählen? (this feels very That's So Yhwach! to me, if this is the case)

I read a fanfic once (I think it might have been this one, but it's 400k words and I read it years ago so I could be wrong) where Souken had been a prominent Quincy intellectual within the Schatten Bereich and he left to go back to the World of the Living, which caused a bunch of bad blood. That would go kind of a long was in explaining why the Sternritter wouldn't give a shit about Mayuri, and also why no one really cares about Ryuuken, either. This was also the source of the tension in the Ishida family between Souken and his wife and between Souken and Ryuuken.

I don't really have any grand conclusion I'm driving towards, just that the entire Quincy backstory could have been really good and meaty, but instead, it's just stage scenery that falls over if you actually try to put any weight on it.

[vampi-fixx]

love bites + love handles

BLEACH; various characters x chubby!reader headcanons

ft. gin ichimaru, Izuru kira, shuhei hisagi, adult!toshiro hitsugaya

tw: 18+ not sfw. all charas are aged up. afab reader. mentions of internalized fatphobia, insecurity, in terms of gin specifically, unhealthy relationship dynamics? (sorry y/n ur man is toxic.) in izuru’s section- mommy kink,, uh lactation, death/dying kink?? idk what i have done lol.

gin ichimaru—;

He likes pet names that point out your chub and veer dangerously close to derogatory i.e. my lil’ swine, my plump dumplin.’ He means these affectionately—or at least as affectionate as he can get—but that doesn’t translate well with his permanent smile, his mocking tone. Even if they weren’t related to your size, surely his delivery would make you wonder if it was something more sinister than teasing. If you ever tell him so, he’s quick to rectify.  

“Aw, don’t get yer panties in a knot~” he says, curling his arms around you, squeezing your middle. Another thing he loves doing. Drawing attention to your gut, even if it does make you flustered. “I’m only teasin’ ya.”

Canonically, he loves Rangiku, and while his eyes are almost always closed, he’s certainly not blind to her assets. He likes someone who can fill his arms generously, who he can sink his fangs into better—it gives him the impression that he owns you more fully.

If you’re ever down about your appearance—whether it be as a result of society’s unrealistic beauty standards, a piece of clothing that just won’t sit right on your figure, whatever—he’s awful at comfort. His nature is to antagonize rather than to soothe. But if you were having an especially bad day, and were ever to ask him if he likes your body, he’ll offer you a rare, genuine frown. “‘Course I like it. Why’d ya’ think I don’t?” If you were to persist, or even go down a spiral of why he shouldn’t, he’ll stop you, his icy gaze cutting through your words. “Not another peep outta ya.’” Before he distracts you. In Gin’s view, you can’t be lingering on certain topics once he’s teasing you again, right? But his teasing will have a little less bite this time, and lead its way to compliments that come across as more genuine than not.

Something Gin might do that confuses you is procuring skimpy clothes or lingerie for you, and leaving them out for you to wear. They’re often a size or two too small for you, and when you try them on, it’s nothing short of scandalous the way it squeezes into your flesh. It makes you wonder if he’s doing it intentionally, and don’t worry—he is. He’s a dick.  His reasoning though, is that he’s quite enamored by the way straps look digging into your shoulders, or garters digging into your thighs, the way you spill out generously from a too-tight corset. He’s all simpering about it too, for instance, watching you parade around Hueco Mundo or Seireitei with a low-cut outfit that leaves your curves to no one’s imagination. In his defense, he can play the role of the “concerned,” “protective" lover in public if you get flustered, dragging you back home by the waist as he tells you, “Ya’ silly thing, why’d ya’ even go out wearing tha’ kinda stuff? Ya’ know what a sight ya’ are?” Hmm, I wonder why. At some point, you can’t trust his choices, and you have to hide your clothes from his alterations. 

During sex, he likes having you on top so he can see your softer parts jiggle. He also enjoys seeing his fingerprints left on your skin, and is quite enamored with the marks tight clothing leaves on you. He may or may not pinch your fat rolls. He’s awful. You should break up with him, Y/N. If only the crazy dick wasn’t also good.

izuru kira— ;

Izuru thinks the world is a harsh and unforgiving place. The exact opposite of you and your body, and thus you become a sanctuary of sorts for him. He’s reverent—your entire body is as soft as a pillow, and he’s in desperate need of coddling from the world. What’s not to love?

Izuru especially likes running his hand along the dips and curves of your body when you’re bared before him, likening it to nature, the divine, his muse. And with him sweetly murmuring how you must have been spun from the gods’ silken hands themselves, how can you feel anything but beautiful?

Insecurities are undoubtedly a part of anyone with a body’s experience though, and if you’re ever particularly down about your appearance, Izuru is aghast. He assumes he’s at fault for making his muse think they’re unappreciated. He’ll show you some of his more, ahem, embarrassing haikus about you. If you want, he’ll even give you a mini performance, replete with his flushed cheeks, his gaze nervously darting to yours to gauge your reaction. Writing poems about you in secret is one thing, but having to perform them in front of you? If he didn’t love you so much, he thinks he could die of the embarrassment.

He accepts that there are things you’ll always dislike about yourself. If he were to list his own shortcomings, it would run miles. Izuru always lives in some kind of self-hating despair, but you—you’re his light. He hopes that by showing you how much he adores your body, you'll also come around to it.

If you’re ever pregnant and/or lactating, Izuru would love to suck on your breasts. Mommy kink confirmed. Even if the topic of trying for a baby baby has just been breached, you’ll sometimes catch him staring longingly at your breasts, before catching your eye and coughing, acting like he’s not. He’s mortified to admit just how... arousing he finds the thought of potential changes to your body.

Speaking of kinks, dying and other morbid things is something Izuru muses about often, but when it comes to you, something about these thoughts turns almost naughty. He’s embarrassed to admit it, but he thinks about being suffocated by your chest, or to suffocate with his face buried in your folds, your thighs caging his head. Sometimes these thoughts get him hard—dying is inevitable, and is a constant presence in a Shinigami’s life, but the thought of dying while wrapped up in your loved one? It’s somehow hot. Izuru is a bit too shy to mention these thoughts to you...

shuhei hisagi— ;

If you’re chubby, Shuhei finds the experience of going down on you even hotter. He’ll get nosebleeds at the thought of your thighs squeezing his head, his nose pressed into your slick folds until he can barely breathe, his hands coming up to grip your thighs as he groans at the give of them. Certified sub status.

Speaking of thighs, he loves to fuck them. Something about the thought is just hot—him squeezing your thighs together, his voice husky as he tells you to keep them clenched tight for him... good, just like that. Especially so if the head of his dick peeks through between them. He can literally cum from just that, his breath hitching at the sight of his seed streaked across them. It just makes him want to lick them even more.

Shuhei also kinda—don’t let him know you’re onto him—but when he’s really stressed from Seireitei Weekly deadlines, from his lieutenant duties, from seeming to run everything on his own? If you two are sitting on the couch together, he’ll just bury his face in your chest. It becomes a habit, and once he’s gotten over his hesitation, he’ll ask you for the boob pillow. Sometimes, when he’s so tense from everything, he’ll complain this way only, into your chest where it’s muffled and he doesn’t feel quite as much of a whiner and all he can think about is how soft you feel around him. You rubbing your hand through his head and listening to him complain is a nice touch.

He really likes hitting it from the back, where he can watch your plush ass bounce when his hips meet it. Also you on top, so he can see ever part of you.

His favorite part about you is how soft you are. Your tits pressing against his chest when he hugs you, the way he can dig into the softest parts of your thighs. 

He would love it if you ever asked him to pick your outfits for the day, or week. He may not look it, but sometimes he sees a cool jacket or top that he thinks would love great on you, but he doesn’t wanna come across as  weird and tell you how to dress. But he’d jump at the opportunity. Surprisingly his eye for fashion is pretty good, and he loves to get you punk outfits that compliment his.

toshiro hitsugaya— ;

He is traumatized from Rangiku’s boob smush. That being said, he does his best to ignore said assets from anyone, even if they are noticeable.

To be honest, it doesn’t really register to Toshiro that you being fat is something you should worry or be insecure about. If you mention it, he’ll blink and be like, “Yes. Your point being?” Truly, he thinks that appearances shouldn’t matter. He’s quite defensive about it, considering how people used to judge for looking too young for a captain.

If you ever mention being insecure, he’s conflicted. He wants to tell you that you’re perfect to him and you have nothing to worry about. But at the same time, he can’t quite bring himself to admit that. Toshiro’s tendency for bluntness and raw honesty is quite clumsy when it comes to declarations of affection. So he settles for showing you instead--with a fierce kiss, his arm tugging you forward

“Don’t be stupid,” he says sternly. “You’re per--fine just the way you are.”

He does try to show you how much you mean to him. Perhaps by upping the physical affection, which is a huge deal for Mr. Frigid and Icy. He’ll initiate hugs from behind, even in public.

If you continue to be insecure, he suggests--and he means this with no ill intention--some guides and strategies for self-love and shit. He finds it cheesy but he really wants to help you, while also not wanting to coddle you? He’s definitely had to look up research guides to relationships before, so he figures that’s a place to start.

As an adult, he’s pretty lean, so he also appreciates the size difference. Toshiro doesn’t treat you differently, hauling you onto his lap in those rare moments when he’s tired from paperwork and wants a pick-me-up, and has stopped giving a damn about decorum. But just picture grumpy Toshiro, nuzzling into your chest, asking for “Five more minutes,” because the feel of being wrapped around is much better than his hand cramping from all the papers he’s had to sign off of.

Ah. I’m loving the idea of Toshiro with a fuller boo and doing cute domestic shit. You feeding him curry you made while he hugs you from behind and complains that it’s too spicy (it’s not; he just has a piss-poor tolerance for spice). Napping with Toshiro on the couch on his day off and he cracks an eye open, a small smile curling his lips at the sight of you as he wraps an arm around you. Toshiro glowering at you when he’s in the rare mood for affection and you keep darting out of his grasp, until he pins you against the counter and steals a kiss from you while grumbling, “Finally.”

Rangiku thinks you’re the cutest couple, and definitely does her best to catch you two in the act of doing, what she deems, “cute couple activities.” More than once she’s walked in on you sitting in Toshiro’s lap, not even doing anything spicy, but just playing with his hair. It’s cute. She has totally taken blackmail pics. In her defense, her taicho never looks that soft with just anyone.

Body worship is big in the bedroom. Toshiro’s cold lips trailing your skin, his gaze heated. He may not be the best with words of affirmation, but he’s content to show you like this how much you mean to him.

[pinkhairedlily]

what did you ask for? (to be with you)

A GIFT FOR @canariie | AO3 LINK

Hitsugaya stares at her as if she’s speaking in tongues. He turns his attention back to the more scenic sight, missing the look Hinamori gives him. She’ll describe it as longing, in a much later time when they’re all grown up. Today, as they finish dinner with his grandmother, she’ll break the news. It will be the first time that he'll become uncomfortable with winter. His seasons, previously enjoyed with performative nonchalance, will lose color and comparatively feel dull than any others before.

“Hurry!”

Hinamori can barely keep up with Hitsugaya’s strong, nimble limbs. She might be older (if we assume by height), but their ages might not be too far apart for her to be breathless like this.

It’s the cold, Her exhale immediately gets lost in the curtain of thick fog. She relies on her feet and muscle memory and the numerous indentations left by fellow dwellers to not veer off the trail. At the peak, there is a statue, and while West Rukongai does not necessarily worship, there is a belief that the stones molded into shape will grant your prayers, only that you have to climb it on the first day of snowfall.

Which turned out to be in the negatives today.

And yet, Hitsugaya is conquering the cotton killer fluff with a sleeveless undershirt and blind faith. He is warm where she is cold, and this natural affinity to adapt in harsh conditions stirs a foreign envy in her.

“Slowpoke!” His voice almost a howl. “We need to get back before my afternoon nap!”

“Shut up!” She yells back. It’s her folly, she guesses, to miss the crevice and slip against the crack. It’s a steep fall, her mind registers. I’ll probably die.

Calloused hand thrusts out from the icy veil to grab her wrist, followed by a grin so cheeky it can only be from someone indomitable.

When they reached the top, his sight was first grabbed by the sea of clouds while hers was the statue. It was simply a pile of rocks stacked on top of one another in dubious balance, but it managed to weather the biting wind, as well as the gasping heat and the torrential rains that came seasons before. Hinamori held her head down and prayed to this resilient structure.

“What did you ask for?”

“Be like this statue,” she replies, a bit lost in thought, “despite the changes.”

Hitsugaya stares at her as if she’s speaking in tongues. “You should have asked for a good harvest and lots of watermelons!” He sticks out his tongue in usual childhood annoyance and turns his attention back to the more scenic sight, missing the look Hinamori gives him. She’ll describe it as longing, in a much later time when they’re all grown up.

But today, as they finish dinner with his grandmother, she’ll break the news. “I’m going to Soul Society.”

It will be the first time that Hitsugaya becomes uncomfortable with winter. His seasons, previously enjoyed with performative nonchalance, will lose color and comparatively feel dull than any others before.

When Rangiku, his future lieutenant and his would-be confidante, finally sniffs him out due to his uncontrollable reishi, Hitsugaya sets in plan his destiny in Seireitei. After all, Hinamori wasn’t the only one to make a wish to that statue on that day.

A childhood plea but a sincere intention all the same.

To be together, even for a little longer. Despite the changes.

—--------------------

“Do you have a gift for me, Captain Histugaya?” Rangiku plays up her doe eyes at him.

He closes the file on his desk. “No, I don’t believe in consumerism.”

“Oh come on, it’s Christmas in the human world. You should at least live a little.”

“Said someone who left me with a mountain of administrative tasks to be done. Because of you, I can’t live a little.”

Rangiku claps her hands together and leans towards the door for an unexisting sound. “Yeah? No, I’ll be out in like five seconds tops!” She turns her attention back to him, though one foot is already near the exit. “Captain, I forgot I have a very important appointment to go to. Bye!”

He rolls his eyes, partly annoyed, but mostly relieved he can finally enjoy some moment of silence. Seconds into that serene atmosphere, consecutive knocks arrive at his space.

“Matsumoto—!”

“—Shiro-kun! Oh, did I catch you at a bad time?” Hinamori steps out of the doorframe, her small frame accentuated by the absent Gotei regalia. Her hair, usually held in a low bun, is loose, silky black strands settling just below her shoulders. She wears clothes which his lieutenant might describe as cozy conservative, and carries a wicker basket as if the season outside is the tranquil spring. Against the stark rigidity of his bureaucratic office, she stands in contrast.

“No,” he manages to say. It takes him a minute but he reaches her side, a few inches short below her height, and takes the basket out of her hands. “Is this lunch? Don’t tell me you feel sorry for me?”

“Well, Rangiku passed by our division and asked me to give you a lending hand,” she chuckles.

“And you were able to prepare all this food in under ten minutes?”

She shrugs and pretends not to notice the absurd logistics of her excuse, but Hitsugaya lets it pass. It benefits him to not ask questions and simply revel in her presence. 

It’s a spread of all his favorite things, most notably natto and watermelon slices, while she takes out a box of tuna onigiri, freshly baked cookies and green tea. Quintessential Momo.

Like the olden days, they eventually settle into that easy familiarity. With the basket emptied and thermos dried out, Momo pulls out another surprise.

It’s a miniature of the West Rukongai forest inside a glass ball.

“I had it customized.” She beams widely. “Go on, shake it.”

Hitsugaya smirks at the almost childlike gesture but indulges her anyway. Flurries of white envelopes all space, mimicking winter in the place they first called home. A snow globe.

“It’s—” he chokes up, “—it’s all right.”

“You should sound more awed, you know.”

“This is my best effort, Momo.”

He swears he hears Hyourinmaru laugh alongside Hinamori. It takes a lot of effort to stay unaffected even though his heart almost feels like leaping off the very same cliff he once saved her from. He takes several breaths, waiting until the snow settles on the bottom, before he takes out his gift.

“Here.” He pulls out a knitted red scarf from the bag and scoots closer to her. She must have sensed his hesitancy or he might have hallucinated the way she leaned closer to him so he could wrap the scarf around her neck. His fingers linger on both ends of the fabric. “Since you always have a cold bug.”

The scarf’s color bounces off Hinamori’s cheeks. In a quieter voice, “Th-Thanks, Shiro.”

Still holding on, he replies, “It’s Captain Hitsugaya to you.”

“—Hey Toshiro, I’m really sorry! I came back early to help—” 

They scramble away to the farthest corner possible in the short time Rangiku shows up.

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” His lieutenant zeroes in on the bright color. “That’s a pretty nice scarf, Momo-chan. It perfectly suits you.” 

Hinamori rushes to the door in haste without glancing at him. “No worries, I was just leaving. I only brought him a meal.” She stops just before the doorframe swallows her. “Thank you, Shiro-kun.”

He can hear the smile in that last word, and ever so deftly, his lieutenant catches it too, even the subtle lift of his lips in cognizance.

“I thought you didn’t believe in consumerism, huh?” Rangiku presses.

“You mentioned helping?”

—--------------------

“This is a character development,” Rangiku brandishes Hitsugaya as if he’s a centerpiece.

“The last time I invited him, he stayed holed up in my room,” Ichigo echoes. “It’s a good thing you could come, Hitsugaya.”

He could only grumble. He hates crowds, but even more so crowds during Christmas. Humans are so obsessed with ephemeral things like celebrations. His displeasure, however, does not dampen their rowdy party: Ichigo, Orihime, Chad, Uryuu, Rukia, Renji. Rangiku, Kira, Shinji, and Hinamori. A mismatched group but still whole, before the world crashes down on them the next few months.

He carefully side-eyes his childhood friend. She looks better, happier even, ever since Shinji arrived. In place of her long hair is a short bob underneath a dark plum beret. She doesn’t wear the scarf he gave ages ago, not after he stabbed her, not after that time when he thought he lost her. The snow globe is tucked in the first drawer of his table. He takes a peek every morning and watches that side of the world stuck in time.

“You’re gonna fall behind.” It’s Hinamori’s voice. They’ve kept their distance, described at best as amicable, recognizing each other’s presence only through a nod of a head, so this is her first direct reference to him with the many layers of conversation peeled back bare.

Hitsugaya freezes on his heels while the rest of the people move forward. Someone ahead of them shouts, spotting a celebrity, and the number triples in seconds. He wants to go to her.

“Captain—” Hinamori resists the surge of movement. “Shiro-kun, what are you doing?” She shoulders her way against bulky figures, but she’s too petite and she stumbles backward to be engulfed by the sea of motions.

His instinct kicks in and he catches her, his grip finding anchor on her waist. He pulls her to the curb where there’s enough space to breathe. “Shinji or Rukia must have noticed our reishi separating from their group. They’ll find us soon.”

He glances at her and finds her unshaken. In the chaos, she lost her beret, and all of her hair is now swaying in the night breeze. “That’s all right.”

“It’s my fault. I don’t know what came over me.”

“No worries. It’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“To be away from the crowd. It’s more peaceful in this corner.”

Hitsugaya nods. “It’s good that you could come.”

“Ah I was peer-pressured mostly by Renji and Rangiku,” she softly laughs. “Captain Shinji also said it would be nice to go out and have fun.”

He sighs, “Too bad you couldn’t have fun now.”

She lightly shoves him, still laughing against her mittens. “Don’t be silly. I’m having fun now. I’m with you.”

He hears his own sharp intake of breath and his eyes hyperfixate on the minute details of her face, the way her eyes remain on the streets, how the changing lights reflect on her irises, her lips chapped from the cold, the little braid behind her ear. “Momo, you should stop doing that.”

She turns to him slowly, and he realizes how red her cheeks are. “Doing what?” She must be so cold.

“Making my heart—”

“Hey you two!” Ichigo shouts across the street. Beside him is Chad who basically towers over everyone and ultimately serves as their beacon for direction.

 “Oh they found us. You were right, Shiro.” She suddenly scrambles to get to them. 

“Wait for me, Momo.” Hitsugaya grabs her hand just before she ventures into the moving cluster of humans. “I might get lost again.” He sees Shinji catching his act, smirking as he confirms his long thought out theories about the two of them.

He plans to let go of Hinamori before they reach the whole group, but the tower clock suddenly strikes twelve, followed by a clamoring of bells and fireworks. Squeezed against warm bodies, it registers to Hitsugaya and Hinamori that everyone is kissing.

Someone nudges him forward. “Yo dude, you should kiss your date. It’s tradition.”

He’s suddenly weightless, reeled in by some force of gravity. In hindsight, he should’ve let go of Momo, shoved her backwards, or redirected his body as if in battle. But this is human world, and he is riding on some ephemeral happiness, and so he stumbles against her, shoulder to shoulder, and his lips graze her cheek.

He waits for a slap, a reprimand, but Hinamori looks out of breath as well. He loosens his grip, gives her an out if she wants to, but it’s her fingers that wrap against his this time.

“They’re looking for us.”

“Momo.”

“Hmm?”

“I— Someone pushed me—”

“I know. I saw.”

“Huh?

“I saw it, Shiro-kun,” she smiles, “so please don’t say sorry.” 

She saw, Hitsugaya thought, which meant she had every chance to move. “Huh?” This won’t be the last time he’ll be out of words in front of her.

“Merry Christmas, Captain Hitsugaya.” Then she lets go of his hand.

—--------------------

“Humans are sure fond of merrymaking.”

They find themselves in the same place many years after, when the worst was finally over and the aftermath of the battles have become simply a memory, navigating the maps of human bodies and still finding a place beside each other. Hinamori thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle—to come out of the wreckage and remain unchanged (in whatever this is, she adds in her head).

They decided, on a whim, to visit the human world. Spontaneity is a foreign concept, both of them so used to rigidity of routines and structures, but somehow there has always been an exception in moments where it concerns the other. The group they went with before is leading their separate lives. They are busy making memories and seizing the present, heightened from the cusp of losing the privilege of existing. 

It is this sentiment that they are riding tonight—the possibility of missing a chance—though this, they may never admit out loud.

“Are you regretting it now, Shiro-kun?”

“The crowd, yes,” he replies in all honesty, brows furrowed, lips in a tight line. Then he glances at her and everything softens with a rare smile. “That doesn’t include you.”

“Good, I really wanted to see the fireworks,” she reasons.

“Haven’t Shinji taken you several times?”

“They’re always different. They change colors, sometimes they have patterns too.”

He chuckles beside her, and something behind him catches her attention. Stragglers hang thin strips of paper with their handwriting on the bare branches of a large tree. Hinamori tugs on Hitsugaya’s sleeve, and he catches her off guard by holding her hand and pulling her to the activity area.

“I might lose you,” he says under his breath. (Did you know, Momo, it was the same words he uttered when he faced Aizen and when he battled without Hyourinmaru? He could never lose you.)

She looks at the writings holding the people’s many wishes into the universe for the coming year. Human lives are short compared to those like them who could live out centuries. The intentions varied from simple (‘I want a boyfriend!’) to more complex ones (‘I want to be finally happy’). Hinamori considers how happiness is subjective across souls, and how, right at this moment, she could describe herself as happy.

“What are you writing?” Hitsugaya asks her. “I already put mine up.”

“Huh?” She surveys the papers in front of them. “That’s unfair, I didn’t get to see it.”

“I don’t think you need to see it.” He turns a shade of red. “It’s personal.”

She relents with a sigh. “You probably wrote longer nap times.” She turns her back on him as she quickly scribbles the first thought that comes. Hitsugaya tries to appear uninterested but she can see him in her periphery stealing glances over her shoulder. It’s a good thing that she remains taller than him.

“Ha! Done!”

“Well, that’s unfair,” he echoes.

Their banter gets interrupted by a loud trumpet, followed by a clock ticking down to midnight.

“Oh, it’s happening!”

The lights on the ground turn off to emphasize the dark night sky. 

“Ten…night…eight…seven…”

Hitsugaya chooses to set his gaze on her. “Did you remember that tradition..?”

“Six…five…four…”

“Yeah, I remember.” Hinamori tears her eyes from the sky and stares back at him against the darkness.

“Two…one… Happy New Year!”

“Can I kiss you?”

She sees Hitsugaya’s face lean in just as the fireworks start their ephemeral performance. The air is crisp with winter air and firecracker smoke, and she’s combusting when his lips find hers underneath the bursts of light.

He pulls away in mere seconds, and she can see the gears of his mind work towards an overdrive. He is second guessing and wondering if it was enough, if he could ever be enough, and she wants to tell him—

“Yes.” And she pulls him to her again and kisses him back with certainty. When it’s all over, the people have scattered, the sky has retreated to its shadows, and she’s still in his arms.

“Happy New Year, Momo.”

—--------------------

Hinamori finds it’s the afterparty she looks forward to the most. Long after all the plates have been washed, the cups flipped to dry, and the doors locked, the silence basks in the traces left from the evening’s friendly noise.

They managed to clear majority of the clutter, but strips and pieces of litter remain scattered about—ribbons, gift wraps, firecracker ashes—a nice chore best reserved for the first day of the new year.

“Our dear hostess must be tired.” Hitsugaya’s hands ease on her shoulders and massage the tight knots that have accumulated over the day. 

“Come on Shiro. I know the kids drained your energy today.” She stifles the bubbling laughter from a recent memory of when Renji’s and Ichigo’s respective toddlers ran amok across the courtyard and Hitsugaya had to chase them off his rock installations.

“They’re not toddlers.”

“And they’re also still kids.”

The winter breeze lands on her skin and she shivers at the contact. Her husband pulls her to the kotatsu, entangling her legs with his underneath, a fairly good excuse to just snuggle and burrow and pretend to hibernate (at least until the weekend’s over).

They’re sitting across the wide windows where they’re afforded a rare view of a perfect night sky, a blank charcoal slate after being painted with bursts of colors from earlier festivities. The moon and stars are cruising in a silent voyage to an audience of two. 

Well, three.

Hotaru manages to crawl on Hitsugaya’s lap and juts out his nose for a boop. He brings with him Hinamori’s red scarf, frayed from several wears, and is now his favorite blanket. She reaches over and indulges their blind, snow-colored cat. Seemingly happy, his paws start making biscuits while his purrs lull them into a much awaited slumber.

Soon enough, the heavens open up to a muted shower of snow. It is a familiar sight, a nostalgic picture of their childhood home, a picture contained in a glass globe from a long ago gift.

Hinamori almost falls asleep with her head on his shoulder, but her eyes quickly catch the stroke of bright light across the sky.

“Momo, make a wish,” Hitsugaya whispers against her hair.

A moment passes. “Done.”

“So, what did you wish for?”

She looks at him, baffled. “You always ask for that!”

“I can’t help it if I’m curious.”

“No.”

He changes tactics. “Okay, I’ll offer you an olive branch. One wish of mine to one of yours.”

“That’s unfair. I always wish for the same thing.”

“Since when?”

“Since we went on that mountain.” Hinamori considers the length of time she knows him, the gravity of memories and circumstance, and the very privilege of having that prayer answered. “I asked for the very same thing I’m wishing for right now.”

She sees how he recalls the moment, watches how the playfulness of his features soften into that of understanding and gratefulness. It had been that long.

“To let us stay in each other’s lives, not for a while, but longer, maybe forever-kind-of-long.”

To be together, even for a little longer. Despite the changes.

“Hmm.” He smiles and then chuckles. “Did you know I asked whatever god there was that day to let me stay with you? It was selfish and unreasonable, especially knowing you really wanted to go. After you left, it sought out many other mountains. I looked for the rest of the shrines, all the genuine and the makeshift, and prayed the same prayer. It turned out I managed to get through to at least one god.”

She could only stare in disbelief. “Wow.”

“What—you never thought I had it in me?”

She shakes her head and laughs. “You were always so tenacious, Shiro.”

“We have this year.” He leans in and places a soft kiss on her lips. “And the next and next and next and next.”

“And the rest of our lives.”

@hitsuhina-week

[unohanadaydreams]

for the eroge game !!! can we get college professor (or student whichever ur more comfortable w!!)! Toshiro with a romantic/horny college student(she/her)! reader getting it on in an empty classroom?? ♪(´ε｀ ) love u btw

It’s safe to say Toshiro being a professor teaching students largely the same age as him would be canon if Bleach were a college AU. He IS a genius, after all.

You didn’t put like a phase you wanted but I’m just gonna make this a Good End bc this seems like something Toshiro would RESIST doing until the end of a route.

Features: teacher/student dynamics, Toshiro’s first role play session, romance + smut wombo combo

Bleach Your Heart: The Otome & Eroge Ask Game

PROFESSOR! TOSHIRO HITSUGAYA + STUDENT! READER + GOOD END

You squeaked as your bare thighs slid against the waxed wood of his desk, finding it too cold for a Summer afternoon.

Toshiro stood before you with his arms crossed, stern.

“Don’t you want to come over here and ravish me, Professor Hitsugaya?”

He stiffened at his title, his eyes cutting to the windows and doors, belying his nervousness. “This is my place of work.”

“Obviously. That’s what makes it so fun.”

You’d taken precautions, knowing it would be the only way Toshiro would agree to so much as hold your hand in his classroom.

Standing on a plastic chair, you’d hooked all five pairs of blinds to the floor, closing the South facing wall of windows off from the outside.

The classroom felt odd without the warm sun streaming down on the desks, but Toshiro demanded thoroughness. So you’d brought construction paper from home, borrowing his scissors to cut them to shape and taped them over the rectangles of glass embedded in the two doors, one on each end of the room, opposite of the windows.

Arriving first for once, you’d been smug, locking the door behind him.

His eyes narrowed under the harsh fluorescents, trying to close in on a reason to push you away.

The white shock of his hair bounced lightly when he shook his head, coming up empty.

You lifted your leg, letting your foot trail from his chest to the front of his pants, before letting it dangle back against the desk.

“Come here, Toshiro,” you said, dropping his title to ease him. “We can just kiss if you want.”

Lulled, he came forward, his arms unwinding, drawn to your bare thighs. The cuff of his white button-up tickled a shiver up your spine as one of his hands trailed up your leg. His green eyes kept you frozen with their intensity as placed himself between your thighs.

“Why do I humor you?” He didn’t seem to need an answer, the thumb of his right hand skimming your bottom lip. But he didn’t go further, his eyes still flitting to the door in his peripheral.

From first, second, and third impressions, you never imagined someone like Toshiro would be touching you, much less humoring you about any from of classroom dalliance.

He seemed carved from the expectations everyone had for him, including his own. Professor Hitsugaya and Toshiro were two separate people in your mind but it was clear the distinction wasn’t so simple for him.

You kissed him before he could change his mind, cradling his face in your hands, his cheeks growing hot as his breath filled your mouth.

Tugging him closer, you threw your legs around him and he responded quickly, his hands supportive and firm under your thighs.

You rolled his bottom lip between your teeth and he gave a low groan that sunk to a satisfied sigh. The front of his navy dress pants were tight and your hands twitched against his shoulders at the feel of it flush against you.

“Aren’t you tired of humoring me,” you whispered against his lips.

Face aflame, Toshiro seemed stuck, his body straining closer while he resisted responding.

That was something he simply couldn’t hide—his innate shyness to intimacy. He was so used to the clear boundaries of professional relationships. So suited to professor or colleague but uncertain about the rules of lovers.

His insistence to tutoring you, on ensuring none of his students leaving his class reflecting a failing on his part by departing with a failing grade, had been the start of it all.

Toshiro was a person, whereas Professor Hitsugaya was a sculpture of ice, frozen in a prison of his own talent and sense of responsibility.

Toshiro met your eyes with hesitance and you smiled prettily for him, grinding against his hardening boner in encouragement.

“Y-you’re a horrible student,” he said, his palms sweating against your skin.

Nodding enthusiastically, you fisted the lapels of his button-up, “don’t you just wanna teach me a lesson?”

He got better as he went, his tone hardening, jerking you off the desk by the belt-loops of your jean shorts.

By the time you’d been raised back onto the desk, Toshiro was gone and Professor Hitsugaya was giving you a stony stare that swirled excitement in your stomach.

He didn’t undress, only shoving his pants and underwear down enough to let his cock spring free.

You’d always been taller, but it didn’t make him less domineering or you less eager to be an obedient student. Eagerly, you bent your head down to kiss him again.

“Please treat me well, Professor,” you said after he’d kissed you hard, your chest heaving for breath, your nipples squished against the cotton of his shirt.

His face was pure business as he eased into you. “As long as you study diligently.”

But your wet entrance was greedy to have him fully inside and your rhythm stole his coolness, his act unraveling much faster than he’d built it up. He groaned as you tightened around his cock.

Forcing you to lie back, he squeezed one of your breasts before enveloping your nipple with his hot tongue. Your moan was sharp, your body sliding on the smooth desk as your swirling hips beckoned him faster.

“Toshiro,” you panted as he leaned over you, stretching to kiss you as his thumb circled your pulsing clit. “I’m really—I’m so close, you’re so, so good.”

“C-call me Professor again,” he said, trembling on that same cliff you were close to falling from.

His eyes were glazed and barely open as you gave a breathy laugh and pulled him down by his white hair.

“I love you, Professor.”

Toshiro shuddered, his thumb racing against your clit and his hips thrusting tense and uneven, “again.”

You whispered into his mouth, “I love you, Professor Hitsugaya” and went stiff before you could say it again, your body wracking with pleasure that ran so hot, you felt frozen in the wave of it.

He followed with a few more uneven pumps, your pussy no longer allowing him to pull out more than inch or two.

After a few minutes of basking in his body on top of yours, you brushed your nose against his and kissed his cheeks, nose, and lips.

“I love you too,” he said, calm, squeezing your hips, then your waist, then your breasts.

“I figured, since you humored me enough to fuck me in your precious classroom.”

He slid away, tying up the condom he’d used, throwing it in a plastic back, and shoving it in the trashcan.

“Shut up. It was just this once.”

You laughed deeply and stood, letting Toshiro dress you.

“I remember you saying something similar the first time we kissed.”

He rolled his eyes, picking at the cuffs of his shirt, “Since when do students question their professors?”

“Am I risking a failing grade in being a girlfriend now?” You kissed him again, straightened his tie.

“Yes. Now get the vinegar spray out of the cabinet and help me clean your mess,” Toshiro’s mouth was smug.

You complied, laughing again, heart squeezing to see him hiding a laugh behind a cough. “My mess!! Take some responsibility, why don’t you.”

“Grab the disinfecting wipes, too.”

[ghost-party]

Previous || Masterlist || Next || AO3

Pairings: Sosuke Aizen x F!Reader, Kisuke Urahara x F!Reader (Modern AU)

Word Count: 5.8K

Warnings: age difference, power imbalance, lots of tension, flirting, possessive behavior, anger, fear, rough behavior (tugging on hair, ripped dress, light biting), implied consensual rough sex, swearing, punching/black eye, mentions of bruising, domestic violence (throwing objects in vicinity of partner)

A/N: Please be mindful of the warnings! Things get rather intense in this chapter… IF YOU ARE A MINOR, DO NOT INTERACT!

“It’s so nice of you to let us use your place like this.”

“Momo, I swear, that’s the fifth time you’ve thanked him. He gets it.”

Rangiku rolls her eyes before peeking into the oven to check on the turkey, while Momo blushes and ducks her head, focusing on her mashed potatoes.

Sosuke merely smiles from where he stands on the opposite side of the island. “It’s my pleasure, really. I don’t often host parties.”

“With this much space? That’s criminal.” But when Rangiku turns to face him, she wears a teasing expression.

When you and Sosuke returned from the cabin, you suggested that the two of you offer up his penthouse for Rangiku’s annual Friendsgiving dinner. Although her current apartment is larger than her old one, it’s still a tight squeeze, especially when the guest list seems to grow every year.

As you set the long dining table, placing silverware just so and draping dark cloth napkins atop each plate, you listen to your friends chat with Sosuke and are reminded that this is their first time meeting him.

Your boyfriend.

He looks especially handsome tonight, wearing a plum-colored sweater with a crisp white shirt layered underneath. As Momo stammers through an answer to a question he asked about her job, he pushes his glasses a little higher on his nose and regards her with a kind smile.

You were never truly worried. He’s unfailingly charming, and you knew your friends would see how enamored the two of you are. It didn’t take long at all to be proven right, with Rangiku teasing you for “those sappy heart eyes” within ten minutes of arriving.

But it’s worth it to hear her laugh at something Sosuke said, and to see Momo relaxing and opening up to a relative stranger — notable progress for someone so shy.

When the elevator announces its arrival, Rangiku beats you to it, her heels clacking on the floor as she smooths a hand over the front of her floral apron. It just barely conceals the plunging neckline of her dress.

“Remember, she’s the hostess,” Sosuke reminds you, sounding amused. He’s now standing beside you, holding two glasses of wine, and you accept one with a grateful smile. “We’re just supplying the location.”

“Don’t be so modest. You paid for the food and drinks, too.”

“What can I say? I’m trying very hard to make a good impression.”

“Through bribery? Or unnecessary modesty?” You grin up at him before standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Maybe both.”

A wolf whistle interrupts the moment, and you turn to see that Ikkaku and Yumichika have arrived.

“Have some class, freeloader,” the latter says, shoving a casserole dish into Ikkaku’s arms before walking over to you. “The least you can do is put that in the oven to warm up.”

Ignoring Ikkaku’s griping protests, Yumichika smoothly introduces himself to Sosuke, who, of course, greets him with equal affability. Deciding to leave the two of them to talk, you busy yourself with final preparations for dinner, deferring to Rangiku, who always has a “vision” for her get-togethers.

The next guest, however, is a surprise, even to her. As Toshiro Hitsugaya, Assistant District Attorney, enters the room, unwinding his cerulean scarf and looking around with what strongly resembles disinterest, she shrieks with delight.

“You actually came!”

“My other dinner plans fell through,” he flatly excuses, seeming to bristle as she hugs him tightly.

“Sure, boss. Whatever you say.” She gives him an exaggerated wink before wandering off, leaving Momo to take his coat.

As dishes are carried to the table and glasses topped off with various libations, you count the number of seats and ask Rangiku, “You did say eight, right?”

She has a pie in each hand as she looks up at you. “Yes. I’m sure the last two will be —” She cocks her head as you both hear the ping of the elevator. “There they are! Take these, please and thank you!”

You manage to balance both pies as she unties her apron, tossing it onto the counter just as a slender woman walks in.

She has long purple hair, dark at the roots, pulled back into a high ponytail that swings across the shoulders of her fitted leather jacket. Her gait is graceful, only made more so by her heeled boots.

“We made it!” she announces, even as Rangiku dashes towards her. Your friend relieves the stranger of the two bottles of wine she was carrying, one in each hand, before giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Based on appearance alone, having heard Rangiku gush profusely about her former coworker, you can only assume this is Yoruichi Shihoin. You’ve always been curious about her. After all, the career path from paralegal to tattoo shop owner is far from typical. 

“This moron made us late. He’s been hunkered down in his lab for days, so I had to throw him in the shower first.” Yoruichi jerks her thumb over her shoulder, looking annoyed.

“I was meandering there. You just expedited the process.”

You stiffen upon hearing the familiar voice. But when you glance at Sosuke, now chatting with Toshiro, you’re impressed that his expression remains placid, his only tell a slight pursing of his lips.

Kisuke, on the other hand, is relaxed when he steps in, removing his scarf and draping both it and his coat over the others heaped onto the corner rack. He endures Rangiku’s teasing cheek pinch and even waves at Momo, fingers wagging, before finally looking at you.

“Long time no see,” he says, smiling a little wider. Unsure what to say in response, you nod, and a moment later, you’re relieved when Rangiku shouts at everyone to sit down. 

That relief withers, however, when you remember her plans for a “conversationally adventurous” seating arrangement. You find your name card in front of a seat towards the head of the table, in between Toshiro and Kisuke.

Sosuke sits across from you, his agitation beginning to show before he quickly checks it, slipping on a familiar mask of benign politeness.

“Of course our honored guest gets to sit at the head.” Rangiku’s voice is full of flattery as she carries dishes to the table, but Toshiro gives her an exasperated look.

“And do honored guests get conned into washing the dishes later?”

Instead of replying, Rangiku turns on her heel and cheerily asks, “Momo, can you be a dear and grab the rolls?” It’s enough of an answer for Toshiro, who sighs.

For a while, you wonder if dinner might pass without incident. The varying conversations shift from one thing to the next, most of them idle talk and harmless banter. Sosuke and Kisuke don’t speak to one another, let alone look in the other’s direction.

But Kisuke seems determined to speak with you.

“That’s a lovely dress,” he murmurs, and you’re glad Sosuke is currently occupied with Yumichika, discussing the art gallery where he holds his exhibitions.

“Thank you.” You’re nothing if not polite, even if wariness leaves your response a little cooler than usual. “I didn’t realize you’re friends with Yoruichi.”

In truth, the two seem so comfortable around each other, you’re wondering if they might be more than friends. But you decide not to ask directly, due in part to the strange annoyance you feel at the idea of it.

“Oh yeah. We’ve known each other since we were kids.” Kisuke spears a piece of turkey on his fork. “Apparently, she never tires of my disappointments.”

Humming softly, you take a sip of wine. You can feel Sosuke’s gaze on you, fleeting yet intense, and although it’s tempting to look up, you resist.

I can handle this myself. I don’t need him to intervene.

Gracing Kisuke with a polite smile, you ask, “Did you know, before coming here?”

You don’t need to spell it out. He’s smart enough to know exactly what you mean. 

After taking his time chewing, he swallows and answers, “That I’d be coming to Sosuke’s apartment? That you would undoubtedly be here, too?” He flashes you an easy grin. “What do you think, kitty?”

“Don’t call me that,” you mutter, your words hard even as you smile, hoping not to draw unwanted attention.

“Aww, you don’t like it?” He seems genuinely dismayed, his expression falling for the first time since he arrived.

“What is it that you want? To get back at him?” You keep your voice lowered as you lean in a little closer, noticing Sosuke out of the corner of your eye. He’s staring right at you — you and Kisuke.

“Something like that.”

The man in question gazes down at you with a sympathetic — almost pitying — look, and it startles you enough to leave you speechless.

Kisuke, however, speaks up again, this time looking past you as he addresses Toshiro. 

“Have you made any progress with your task force? When I last saw Ukitake, he seemed pleased.”

He knows Jushiro Ukitake? It makes sense. You’re sure they’ve crossed paths at galas and other notable events held to benefit the city. But it still takes you aback.

You dare to look at Sosuke again, and you see that his fork has slowed just a little as he brings it to his lips, feigning disinterest as Toshiro answers, “We’ve made some progress. You know I can’t tell you much, but…”

He dabs at his lips with his napkin before locking eyes with Kisuke. “I think we’re getting closer to taking down the Fullbringers. And we have some leads on the Kyoka Suigetsu syndicate.”

“Leads are good.” Kisuke sounds optimistic as he spoons another helping of mashed potatoes onto his plate. “Better than nothing.”

“Have you considered the power struggle that will surely ensue once you’ve made your arrests?”

Sosuke speaks mildly, as if discussing something as mundane as the weather. And yet his gaze is sharp as he glances at Toshiro. Beside you, Kisuke suddenly looks more serious, perhaps more than you’ve ever seen him.

“It’s hard to know what we’ll be dealing with when all is said and done,” Toshiro admits. “Our goal, however, is complete elimination, with no one left to fight over who will lead.”

“An admirable goal,” Sosuke commends, though you can tell it’s an empty compliment tossed out in advance of a critique. “But there will always be someone seeking power. The world operates on balance, after all.”

“I never thought you believed in that.”

Kisuke is finally looking at Sosuke, his chin propped on his fist. “Balance. Order. Weren’t those boring concepts to you? I seem to remember you calling them a weak excuse to maintain the status quo.”

Sosuke’s jaw clenches, but the moment is so brief, you suspect no one else noticed — except perhaps Kisuke. 

“It’s true. I suppose I’m more of a revolutionary at heart than a staunch traditionalist.”

“Don’t tell me you side with the criminals,” Toshiro says, clearly joking as he cracks a rare smile. “Sosuke Aizen, renowned philanthropist and financier, the proponent of a new world order achieved through anarchy…”

Sosuke chuckles, and something inside you runs cold at the affected sound, entirely false as he maintains the ruse of the rich man who enjoys playing devil’s advocate.

“Not through anarchy, no. But perhaps through careful planning. I think we can all agree that our society is ready to enter a new age.”

“Of its own choosing,” Kisuke clarifies, earning a disdainful look from Sosuke. “It’s not up to one man to determine the trajectory of the future.”

The table falls silent, and you feel paralyzed as Sosuke’s gaze narrows, his smile turning dangerous. 

“Of course not, Kisuke,” he says, his tone condescending. “We live in a democracy, after all.”

He lifts his wine to his lips and takes a small sip as the collective tension begins to ease. 

“In any case, a year from now, I think things will be very different…”

When you look at Kisuke out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s smiling again. But it doesn’t reach his eyes. He continues to stare at Sosuke until Rangiku interrupts.

“Good grief. I hear enough about work at work.” She heaves a dramatic sigh as she rests her elbows on the table. A pretty pink flush colors her cheeks, a sign that she’s been enjoying some of the wine Yoruichi brought.

“Hurry up and eat so we can play the party games I planned!”

“I’d rather choke on a bone,” Yumichika mutters under his breath, earning him a half-eaten roll thrown at his head. 

The rest of the meal passes by in a blur, your attention helplessly split between Sosuke and Kisuke. Although your boyfriend seems, at first glance, to be unbothered, you can tell his irritation has grown. And Kisuke remains resilient in his efforts to draw you in, undeterred by your rebuffs.

After the dishes have been collected and taken to the kitchen — where Toshiro does, as predicted, get roped into washing them, with Momo on drying duty — the group moves to the living room.

Ikkaku compliments Sosuke’s couch as he sinks down into it, Yumichika sitting primly beside him. Yoruichi, having kicked off her boots at some point, folds her legs beneath her as she curls up on the floor. Kisuke sits at the opposite end of the couch, just enough space left beside him for you to occupy.

But before you can even consider it, a strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you back. Heat rises in your cheeks as you frantically pull at your dress, trying to keep from flashing everyone as you stumble into Sosuke’s lap.

He’s seated in one of the armchairs, like a king upon his throne. And as you settle against him, your back pressed to his chest, you can imagine his expression — pleased, almost smug in his satisfaction.

“Are you comfortable, sweetheart?”

“Y-yeah… Thanks.”

Honestly, it’s a little embarrassing, sitting like this in front of your friends.

In front of Kisuke.

Rangiku swans in, carrying a fresh glass of wine, and loudly declares, “We’re going to play Never Have I Ever!”

You were expecting something far worse, or some complicated game she would drunkenly attempt to explain, stumbling over one rule after another. This, in comparison, is a relief, even if you’re feeling a little nervous about playing.

Yoruichi helps to ensure that everyone has a drink before kicking things off. Now stretched out on the floor, not unlike a cat, she says, “Never have I ever gotten arrested.”

Ikkaku sighs and takes a drink, his college antics already well known to you. But when Kisuke sips from his glass, you can’t help but raise an eyebrow.

“Public indecency,” he says, not sounding the least bit ashamed. Perhaps because he follows it up with, “The charges were dropped, though.”

“Nowadays, you keep your ass to yourself,” Yoruichi teases, and Kisuke simply shrugs.

The game continues around the circle, with everyone learning who has and hasn’t stolen something, broken a bone, or cheated on a partner.

When it’s Kisuke’s turn, he makes a show of mulling over his choices before he lowers his voice and states, very seriously, “Never have I ever killed someone.”

For a moment, the group is silent. But then Rangiku bursts into laughter, prompting the others to do the same. 

“Even if one of us has, you seriously think we’re going to confess?” she asks.

You watch as Kisuke slowly turns to look at Sosuke, and the weight of his gaze leaves your mouth dry. 

“Nah… I just thought it would be funny.”

The lie is convincing enough if you’re not paying attention. But you are, and so is Sosuke. 

His arm squeezes you so tight, you gasp a little, prompting him to immediately relax. But you can still feel the hard strain of his posture, ramrod straight in the chair as he stares back at Kisuke.

You can’t see his face. But you don’t need to. 

After everyone has left, he stalks through the penthouse, tossing his sweater over a dining chair before popping open the top two buttons of his shirt. You watch as he rakes a hand through his hair while shakily pouring two fingers of whiskey.

You watch him warily, unused to seeing him like this. Your concern only grows when he tips the glass back and drains it dry, setting it down hard on the countertop.

“Sosuke…”

He looks at you, as if realizing for the first time that you’re still here with him. You’ve taken off your shoes, but you’ve yet to change out of your dress. As he closes the space between you, your nervousness spikes, and you swallow hard before speaking again.

“Did Kisuke —”

Sosuke’s fingers tangle in your hair, grasping it hard enough to make you gasp. But the sound is swallowed by his lips, bruising and insistent, dominating your mouth with ease. You flinch when his free hand reaches for the zipper of your dress, yanking it down hard enough that you hear a seam rip.

“I thought I told you,” he growls, using his grip on your hair to force you to look at him, keeping your head firmly fixed in place, “I don’t want to hear you speak his name.”

“I’m sorry,” you breathe, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “I didn’t mean to — I was just worried —”

Sosuke kisses you again, and you’re relieved to notice this one is a bit softer, though his teeth still nip at your bottom lip.

“I’m not angry with you,” he murmurs, his hand splaying across your now-bare back, the panels of your dress peeled open to expose your skin. “I’m not, darling, I promise. I just need this — need you.”

Despite his plea, you know that if you were to use your safe word right now, he would stop. This wouldn’t go any further. And he would never hold that against you.

But you can’t deny that his words have an effect on you. He needs you. Tonight was too much of a strain, too much tension stretched perilously thin, on the constant verge of snapping.

You can give him what he craves — a distraction, a release. You can let him take you apart and then painstakingly, lovingly, put you back together.

“You have me,” you whisper, even as your heart beats a staccato rhythm of fear against your ribs, an instinctive response you can’t quite shake.

“I’m yours.”

•••

Two weeks later, as the snow begins to fall in earnest and Christmas grows ever nearer, Sosuke is set to compete in his long-awaited fencing tournament.

As the two of you look at the men’s épeé seedings and pool assignments posted just inside the doors, he seems unfazed. He’s wearing his contacts, along with his usual fencing gear. The only color in his white jacket comes from the club patch sewn onto one sleeve.

His expression doesn’t even change when his eyes lock onto Kisuke’s name.

Both men are seeded favorably, as you expected. The day after the party at his penthouse, Sosuke explained that, prior to leaving, Kisuke had mentioned his entry into this tournament, saying it had sounded “like a fun time.”

“We both fenced in college,” Sosuke said, his voice still tense but bled dry of any frustration. “I was on our school’s team, but he was with a private club. We sometimes practiced together, when we had time.”

He didn’t say who was the better fencer, or if they were evenly matched. Still tired and sore from the previous night, you were hesitant to ask. Besides, it hardly matters who was more skilled back then. 

What matters is how those skills have aged in the twenty years that followed.

You can tell Sosuke is intensely focused, even as he presses a kiss to your temple and promises to find you later. It’s nerve wracking, being at an event like this, something unfamiliar and distinctly outside of your comfort zone. You’ve managed to learn a few things about fencing, but you still feel like a novice.

Luckily, while Sosuke progresses through the pool stage, you find yourself in the company of Izuru Kira. He’s been a member of Sosuke’s fencing club for two years now, and he openly professes his admiration for the older man — as well as Gin.

“I didn’t realize he fenced, too,” you say, glancing around the spacious facility. It’s nearly impossible to spot someone in here, especially with so many fencers wearing their masks, a sea of faceless white.

“He’s not here today, but he fences foil.” Izuru rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, watching the action unfold. “And honestly, he doesn’t show up to practice much these days. Guess he’s been busy.”

Even though you and Sosuke have been together for months now — first, as an advantageous arrangement, and now, as a true couple — you still don’t know what exactly Gin does, apart from the fact that he and your boyfriend work together.

When you ask Izuru why he’s not competing, he lifts his right hand and cites a persistent injury, something he’s hoping is a nonissue by the time the spring tournaments begin. But he still wanted to come and show his support.

It’s nice to have someone with you to explain certain calls and define unfamiliar terms, and his sarcastic sense of humor keeps you entertained, especially as the day wears on.

He slips away around noon to find some food for the two of you, and that’s when you finally catch sight of Kisuke.

His hair is unruly, though you can hardly blame his mask — that just seems to be its natural state. He combs his fingers through it, smiling at something his companion says. As the crowd between you begins to dissipate, you see that it’s the blond man from the masquerade, his chopped bob as unmistakable as his Cheshire Cat grin.

You feel warmth spreading down your neck as your eyes move over Kisuke’s figure, tall and lean. Whenever you’ve seen him in person, he’s opted for looser, more casual garments, henleys and sweaters. But now, his jacket hugs his torso, and his broad shoulders roll again and again as he stretches lightly in between bouts.

Considering you’re staring, it should come as no surprise that his gaze snags on yours, his expression brightening. But even so, the heat building beneath your skin seems to flare, and you find yourself quickly looking away, as if that will deter him from coming over.

You’re not lucky enough for that to happen.

“You’re here by yourself?” 

His voice is pleasant as always, a slight rasp to it as he lifts his water bottle to his lips. Your eyes fixate on the bob of his throat as he drinks deeply, until you force yourself to redirect your attention.

“Why? Are you going to offer to keep me company?”

Some part of you hopes he might. As intrigued as you are by the prospect of seeing him fence against Sosuke, you can’t ignore this sense of foreboding — a bone-deep conviction that something bad is going to happen if they cross blades.

“Regrettably, no. But I’m sure Shinji would be happy to fill in.” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder, back towards the blond man. He now looks to be arguing with a petite young woman in a red jacket, who’s actively trying to kick him.

“I’m guessing you entered this tournament purposely.”

Kisuke tilts his head, looking amused. “That’s usually how it goes. It’s a little hard to just stumble into one of these things.”

Resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of your nose, you settle for frowning up at him as you clarify, voice low, “You did it to fuck with him, didn’t you?”

“Such language.”

Kisuke’s gaze is mirthful as he leans in closer, lowering his voice. “And so what if I did? I like games, and I always play to win.”

“Is that what this is, too? Between us?”

There it is. You’ve been wondering for a while now, so it’s a relief to finally voice the question that’s been plaguing your thoughts.

Because the truth is that Kisuke has been on your mind more than you would ever admit, especially to Sosuke. 

Kisuke’s smile remains, but there’s a shift in the way he looks at you, as if an invisible layer of separation has been pulled away, revealing avid interest — and, to your confusion, something unmistakably tender.

He takes a step forward, minimizing the remaining space between you.

“Contrary to what you might think, I don’t play games with pretty girls. Anything you think you’ve felt? I promise you, it’s real.”

It takes you a moment to find your words, and when you do, your voice is smaller than you would like. “But you don’t even know me.”

He reaches out and gently presses his finger to the notch at the base of your throat, right below where the bell on your collar sat the night of his Halloween party.

“I know more than you might think. And even though I know you won’t, I still wish you would take my advice.”

“Be careful.”

Someone calls his name, and the spell is broken. Kisuke steps back, an almost forlorn look flitting across his face before he turns away. Even after he’s gone, you find yourself wondering what you could have said — should have said, and you’re only pulled from your anxious reverie by Izuru’s sudden return.

“Sorry that took forever. The line was insane.”

He’s holding two plastic-wrapped deli sandwiches, looking panicked as he glances between you and a strip further down, where the finals will take place. 

“Looks like they’re done determining third place, so it’s go time. Sosuke’s in the finals, along with —”

“Kisuke Urahara,” you murmur. “I know.”

As the two of you make your way over, Izuru ahead of you, any hunger you previously felt seems to vanish, your stomach clenching with nerves.

Both men have already secured their reel wires to their jackets, and you watch, arms crossed as they plug their respective épeé blades into their body cords. Noticing that you haven’t asked for your sandwich, Izuru tucks it into the backpack slung over his shoulder before peeling back the plastic on his and taking a small bite, watching as the competitors salute one another.

The match begins slowly, Sosuke and Kisuke seeming to hang back and take stock of one another before leaping into action. But as they start moving, gaining momentum as they dash back and forth along the strip with impressive agility, it feels as if your chest is slowly constricting.

First Sosuke pulls ahead, then Kisuke, and back and forth they go, trading point after point, lunging and parrying. Izuru mutters under his breath at every double-touch, and across the strip, you can see Shinji standing beside his small companion, his expressive mouth twisted into a grimace.

When the second period concludes, the score is tied. Accepting a fresh water bottle from Izuru, you push your way through the crowd of onlookers, until you catch Sosuke’s attention. As he comes down, you can practically feel the tension humming throughout his body, radiating off of him like heat from an engine.

He removes his mask, revealing slicked-back hair and a face damp with sweat. As he accepts the water bottle with a hoarse “thank you,” he attempts a small smile. But it doesn’t look right, almost as if the muscles in his face are straining against him.

“Just one more to go,” you reassure him, ignoring his perspiration as you press your palm against his flushed cheek. “I can tell you’re wearing him down.”

“Not enough,” he sullenly bites out, shaking his head. But he lets his fingers brush against yours as he hands the bottle back, a small, sweet gesture. Keep watching, it says. I’m going to win.

Except he doesn’t.

It happens so fast, you nearly miss it. But when Kisuke slips past Sosuke’s defenses to score a point off of his right shoulder, just before the final period ends, Izuru swears colorfully, fisting his hands in his hair.

“Damn… I really thought he had it.”

Apparently, so did Sosuke. The referee calls for both men to salute and shake hands, and while Kisuke complies, pulling off his mask, Sosuke turns on his heel and walks off the strip, headed in the direction of the locker rooms. 

Izuru is stunned, gaping as he watches his mentor disappear into the crowd. But Kisuke only looks resigned and exhausted as he salutes the ref and joins Shinji on the opposite side of the strip.

“I’m going to… I’ll go check on him,” Izuru finally says, sounding almost apologetic before taking off at a jog.

You find yourself rooted to the spot, something akin to panic blooming wildly in your gut. 

Of course you knew Sosuke would be upset if he lost. It’s understandable. But to make such a scene, to behave so poorly, in front of so many people, regardless of the circumstances… You never expected that. And it has you wondering if you truly know him at all.

As you walk to the parking lot, deciding to meet him there and give him some time to cool off, you attempt to reassure yourself. You’re making this a bigger deal than it needs to be. It’s just a fencing tournament, nothing more than that. He’s a competitive man. He let his emotions get the best of him this one time.

Except it hasn’t happened only one time. The lingering bruises on your hips speak to that, nearly faded weeks after the fact, but not quite.

When you step outside, you immediately hear raised voices. Not many people have left yet, so it’s easy to find the source of the commotion. You hardly have a chance to look, though, when Sosuke’s car pulls up.

“Get in.”

At the forefront of the small group, you see Shinji facing your direction, his face a mask of fury. Kisuke’s hand is clasped on his shoulder, looking as if it’s the only thing holding him back.

His other hand is pressed to his face, covering his left eye.

“Sosuke, what —”

He speaks again through this open passenger window, this time with force. “Get in.”

Numbly, you do as he says, your eyes remaining helplessly locked on Kisuke until you’ve lowered yourself into the leather seat. It’s difficult to discern the injured man’s expression, but all the same, you feel sick to your stomach.

Neither you nor Sosuke break the silence as he drives back towards the city. You’re afraid that no matter what you say, he’ll snap at you again. And you’re not even sure what to say in the first place.

Only when the two of you are back in his penthouse do you muster the courage to speak.

“What happened back there?”

You jump a little as his heavy fencing bag hits the floor. His back is to you as he unzips his jacket and shrugs out of it, the black t-shirt he wears underneath clinging to his toned body, soaked through with sweat.

“Sosuke, what did you do? Please, talk to —”

Without warning, he reaches towards the kitchen island, grasps the neck of a bottle of wine — a gift from a colleague that he brought home just last night — and throws it.

It erupts against the wall, shattering in a spray of glass and dark liquid, staining the painting hanging there.

Your breath hitches in your throat, something horrible clawing its way up, making it impossible to speak. You stare at him with wide eyes, afraid to move. The man standing before you is someone else entirely — a predator looking for the barest excuse to bite.

No.

The word fills your mind in an instant, like a door slamming closed.

You love Sosuke. You do. But you refuse to put up with this.

Taking a step back only draws his attention, as you knew it would. But you steady yourself and take another.

“Where are you going?”

His voice is as low and seductive as ever, except now, there’s venom in it, a simmering anger on the verge of boiling over.

“Home,” you answer firmly, tightening your grip on your purse strap. “I can’t be with you when you’re like this.”

He’s quick, stepping forward in an attempt to close the space between you. But you outpace him, nearly tripping over your own feet in the process.

“Stop.” You speak loudly, the slight tremble in the word betraying your fear. Even so, you press on, telling him, “I’m leaving. Whatever this is, whatever’s happening with you… I’m not going to let myself get hurt.”

It’s as if you’ve reached out and slapped him hard across the face. Sosuke’s face instantly goes slack, shock forcing the anger to recede, if only briefly.

“I wouldn’t — I would never —”

You shake your head. “I need space, Sosuke. What you did to Kisuke —” His expression darkens yet again, but you ignore the fear and force yourself to keep talking “— I can’t trust that you won’t do it to me, too.”

He still looks as if he might protest, and you need to end this before you lose your courage, or your knees buckle beneath you.

“Let me go.”

A long moment passes before he finally turns away, gripping one of the dining table chairs as he leans heavily on it. When he says nothing, you back up another step, and then another, continuing until you reach the hallway leading to the elevator.

You’re shaking by the time you make it to the lobby of his apartment building. In the time it takes for you to hail a taxi, you make a difficult decision, but one that feels necessary.

You’re not going home. At least not yet.

•••

Kisuke answers the door, looking stunned to see you standing on his front steps, already dusted with snow from the evening flurries. He’s changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, and there’s a bag of frozen peas clutched in his hand.

His left eye is swollen, the skin around it reddened. You suspect the bruising will appear tomorrow, thinking back to injuries Ikkaku sustained back in college, begrudgingly nursed back to health by an unsympathetic Yumichika.

“What are… What are you doing here?”

You feel a little proud to have surprised Kisuke, a man who seems to delight in staying several steps ahead of everyone else. But you keep that to yourself as you look up at him and recite what you practiced the whole way here, in an effort not to lose your nerve.

“I need you to tell me what you know about Sosuke. No more games. I want the truth.”

[seireiteiqueen]

Welcome to Kinktober 2022 everyone. 👏 Enjoy 31 days of pure smut this October. 😈 If you want to be added to the taglist simply DM me, shoot me an ask, or even reply to this post. 🙌 I can add you to only certain characters, the whole thing, or only certain kinks. Can’t wait for everyone to see what we’ll be getting up to this year. 😉 Age must be in bio or easily found to be added to the taglist.

If you don’t want to see the Kinktober stuff for this year then simply blacklist the tag : seireiteiqueen kinktober

Now take a peek at what’s to come in October. 👇 If the date looks like this then that means that the piece is in the queue and waiting for your viewing pleasure. I’ll link them here as they release as well.

Day 1 - Ass Worship || Renji Abarai

Day 2 - Anal Sex || Renji Abarai

Day 3 - Face Sitting || Ichigo Kurosaki

Day 4 - Dancing || Renji Abarai

Day 5 - Overstimulation || Renji Abarai

Day 6 - Master/Slave || Byakuya Kuchiki

Day 7 - Male Submission || Renji Abarai

Day 8 - Public Sex || Renji Abarai

Day 9 - Lingerie || Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez

Day 10 - Desperation || Renji Abarai

Day 11 - Piercings || Renji Abarai

Day 12 - Skype Sex || Shuhei Hisagi

Day 13 - Toys || Renji Abarai

Day 14 - Water Sex || Renji Abarai

Day 15 - Suspension || Kisuke Urahara

Day 16 - Outercourse || Renji Abarai

Day 17 - Knife Play || Renji Abarai

Day 18 - Hate Sex || Ichigo Kurosaki

Day 19 - Begging || Renji Abarai

Day 20 - Shower Sex || Renji Abarai

Day 21 - Daddy Kink || Toshiro Hitsugaya

Day 22 - Cum Marking || Renji Abarai

Day 23 - Thigh Riding || Renji Abarai

Day 24 - Rimming || Ikkaku Madarame

Day 25 - Shotgunning || Renji Abarai

Day 26 - Rough Sex || Renji Abarai

Day 27 - Size Difference || Sosuke Aizen

Day 28 - Outdoor Sex || Renji Abarai

Day 29 - Body Worship || Renji Abarai

Day 30 - One Night Stand || Isshin Kurosaki

Day 31 - Squirting || Renji Abarai

©️2022 seireiteiqueen, please do not repost/modify without my permission, please do not use my work as ASMR without my permission

[alexiethymia]

illumination

summary: [Post-TYBW] Hitsugaya fixed his tabi on the engawa as he waited for Momo. Not for the first time, he was gripped with that sense of déjà vu. First sunrise. First shrine visit. A lot of the firsts that he remembered in his life was with her.

[read on ao3]

Notes: I don’t consider myself good at domestic fics, so this fic had plenty of inspiration, mainly @rays-of-fire-and-ice, @canariie, and @bleachbleachbleach‘s head canons especially about Jurinan grandma and Momo’s calligraphy. It was also inspired by the Hitsugaya family in Untitled Collection and the warmest place in the world, as well as all of the HCs about hitsuhina children that I just went and bit the bullet and did my own version. I’m also way too late for HitsuHina week, but I really wanted to finish this work based on the prompt fireworks.

Soshun mazu sake Ni ume uru Nioi kana

New year and first Sake and the fragrance of plum blossoms Being sold

“Kira’s spouting off haikus again which means he’s plastered and that’s our cue to go. Thanks for having us, Hitsugaya-taichou!”

“Heh, you sure it isn’t because you’ve made your darling wife and daughter wait up for you and now you’re scared you’ll be greeting the new year with a sandal to the face?”

“Shut it, Hisagi-san.”

“Oi, oi, show some respect Abarai. It should be Hisagi-senpai.”

“Ehh Kira, isn’t that haiku out-of-season? Isn’t it too early for spring? Ah, but it fits perfectly with the umeshu doesn’t it, taichou?”

Kira just ignored the whole drunken lot in favor of shaking Momo’s hands. For some reason, he seemed to be crying.

“Just a small new year’s gift, Hinamori-kun…ah…eto,” Kira mumbles all the while still vigorously shaking her hands. Only a strained furrow in his drooping brow signified his strain as if trying to remember something important amidst the drunken haze he was in, “My mistake,” he amends, “I mean, Hitsugaya-san.”

Perhaps it was the same furrow mirrored in the captain’s expression that caused him to remember, but in truth Hitsugaya’s expression wasn’t really directed at him. In truth, it wasn’t only Renji’s wife who was maybe slightly displeased with him.

“No need to be so formal, Kira-kun! We’ve known each other for ages.” Despite that she consented to be supported by her back, she wasn’t as fully nestled by his side like in her moments of true contentment where she would be languid and soft against him.

She was the perfect hostess so she’d never let anything in her expression show except a welcoming and bright smile, but Hitsugaya didn’t know her for centuries for nothing. The smile she had now had the same subtle curves as the exact same smile she showed him when she said, ‘What do you mean? Of course, I’m not angry, Shiro-chan, how silly,’ when he’d eaten the peaches she had apparently been saving when they were just carefree kids back in Jurinan. Moments like this made memories like that feel simultaneously as if they were eons ago and also as if they just happened yesterday.

Hitsugaya sighed.

“Momo, you know you can’t drink for a reason.”

Everyone in the party turned to look at him at that. True it was stern as was characteristic of Hitsugaya-taichou, but at the same time it sounded conciliatory. Perhaps that was why Momo let her smile fall, and let a slight pout overtake her features. Internally, Hitsugaya sighed with relief. He’d rather she shows that she was displeased with him than hide it.

“I know, but still for you to go so far as to ask everyone to bring plum wine, precisely because you know I don’t like it…” When Madarame-san and Ayasegawa-san brought some over, she thought nothing of it. When Hirako-taichou had dropped by in human world attire clapping Toshiro on the back with enough force that he fell, irritated and grumbling, and ruffling her hair softly as he placed the bottle and a new jazz vinyl in her hands, she thought it was a funny coincidence. But when even Nanao-san with the soutaichou dropped by, her with books and him with more of the stuff, that’s when she began to put two and two together.

Maybe it was a bit much for new year’s celebrations, but it had also been a housewarming of sorts, and Momo was touched with all of the small tokens of welcome and well-wishes. Pity it had to be something she wasn’t fond of. But Momo was nothing but gracious so she accepted it all.

Abarai-kun and Hisagi-senpai looked at each other sheepishly, while Kira-kun looked just about ready to drop at the thought of possibly having offended her with their gift, but Hitsugaya-taichou insisted, and you never said no to Hitsugaya-taichou when he used that tone (rather you never just said no to Hitsugaya-taichou period).

At least Matsumoto-san was thoughtful enough to bring peaches which was probably why she was giggling at their expense.

Seeing Kira-kun’s shaking legs and increasingly off color (he might faint with how white he was becoming), Momo decided to let up with a sigh. Looking up at her husband who was looking at her straightforwardly, Momo found that she really couldn’t stay mad especially when the person in question was sure he had done nothing wrong. And anyway he also mostly abstained from the alcohol, only taking a few sips in order not to be rude to their guests. She leaned into him even as Hitsugaya-kun teased her lightly, “You would have snuck a few sips if it was fruit wine.”

Feeling as if they were intruding into some soft and fluffy scene, the vice-captains couldn’t help but feel second-hand embarrassment at being the witnesses to a married couple’s fight (if it could even be called that).

“I hope Rukia and I aren’t as obnoxious as that,” Renji whispered discreetly.

“You totally are. It’s just that your lover’s quarrels are more explosive.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you Hinamori-kun, er I mean, Hitsugaya-san, no I mean Momo-kun!” For some inexplicable reason, Kira started crying into his arm again.

“Ahhh, taichou and Momo, could you stop making the rest of us feel so single?”

“Ahem, Rangiku-san, would you do me the honor of- “

“Yosh! That does it. Time to take this party over to the Kuchiki manor. I’m sure they’ll have some high-class sake!”

“Hey, wait a minute! When did I say- “ But Hisagi just slung his arm over Renji’s neck in a chokehold, while dragging Kira behind him. Hitsugaya privately commiserated, both with Abarai and Kuchiki. Matsumoto was a whirlwind who couldn’t be stopped. Feeling a migraine coming on at the prospect of having to pay for any potential damages, he almost didn’t notice Matsumoto sidle up to them and spirit Momo away for a careful, and yet cheerful hug. Nuzzling her cheek against Momo’s, she whispered, “Don’t worry, I’ll sneak you some fruit wine sometime.”

Hitsugaya growled in warning at hearing that, “Matsumoto…” but Momo only laughed and hugged the buxom woman tightly, as his vice-captain winked at him. “After everything, taichou, I promise. Lieutenant’s honor.”

Hitsugaya calmed down, and sighed. He’s been doing a lot of that lately. Nonetheless he greeted his vice-captain, “Happy New Year, Matsumoto. I’ll be counting on you greatly for the upcoming year.”

“Thank you for visiting, Rangiku-san. Have a Happy New Year!”

With a lazy salute, she waved them both goodbye, and in a while they were both finally alone. Hitsugaya didn’t mind the company of his colleagues, while he knew Momo enjoyed it. Still, he didn’t want her to get too tired. Spying her drooping lids, he gently shook her, mindful of both her hands wrapping around her midsection, “Time for bed, sleepyhead.”

“Mmmm,” Momo yawned as she placed both arms around her husband’s neck while he scooped her up, “Hey, Shiro?”

“Hmm, what is it?”

“You know you’re going to have to drink all that sake right? And I won’t help with a single drop,” Momo giggled sleepily. As much as Momo disliked plums, she knew Hitsugaya-kun didn’t have a taste for alcohol either. Snuggling deeper into her husband’s broad shoulder, she smiled peacefully.

Hitsugaya blanched.  

“I’ll give some to Matsumoto.”

…

Momo felt a hand waking her from restful slumber.

Blearily opening one eye, she spotted Hitsugaya-kun already up with a bemused look on his face. He had always been the early riser between the two.

Stretching her arms and yawning, Momo fixed her hair while Hitsugaya-kun patiently waited beside her. It was still dark out. Her stomach suddenly grumbled, and while she might have been embarrassed about it before, with how often it kept happening these days, she just got used to it.

Hitsugaya-kun passed her a bowl of the leftover toshikoshi soba she’d prepared for them which she took gratefully, warming her hands on the reheated bowl.

She still felt slow as molasses, but luckily Hitsugaya-kun had always been alert. While she sleepily slurped at the noodles still only half awake, Hitsugaya-kun merely arranged her so she was comfortable leaning against his front. He even tucked her in their blankets, leaving none for himself since the cold didn’t bother him. Once he was assured that she was comfortable, he slowly opened their sliding doors so they could view the night sky. It was but a moment later that the inky blackness was replaced with slivers of rose light.

With no words passing between them, together they watched the first sunrise.

---

Hitsugaya fixed his tabi on the engawa as he waited for Momo. Not for the first time, he was gripped with that sense of déjà vu.

First sunrise. First shrine visit.

A lot of the firsts that he remembered in his life was with her.

Memory was a funny thing in Soul Society. While he remembered nothing of his old life, if he were to fix a point in time where his life started here, he found that she was always in his firsts - that her smiling face was the beginning of everything.  

First smile. First laughter. First friend.

First love.

Though he took a while to realize it. (Or perhaps like a circle, there had been no fixed point and some part of him had always known.)

Finished, he leaned back on his arms as he looked up at the withered branches. Though some things remained the same, perhaps a lot of things also changed. He remembers his first shrine visit with Momo and baachan. Back then he’d been impatient and rushing her so that they could get a move on already. But his grumbling had died in his throat when he saw her come out with a new yukata. It was nothing fancy, not even a kimono, but it was new. Everything about her then was new, from the first time he saw her put her hair up in a bun, small wild flowers threaded into the strands by baachan, to the new dusty pink yukata with plum blossoms scattered across it she had saved up for.

‘How do I look, Shiro-chan?’

‘…You look fine.’

It wasn’t even close to what he wanted to say, but only Momo would still smile brightly at him like that, leaving him dazed.

The plum blossoms were starting to bud, he noticed. Glancing down at his own kimono, he thought wryly that this was a far cry from the threadbare yukata he’d worn back then. Deep midnight blue and black, with whorls of clouds, on the back a great mighty dragon, shining in white as it rushed alongside a surging river, such that you wouldn’t know where the river ended and the dragon began. Truthfully, it was a bit ostentatious for his own tastes, but baachan had sent it and baachan had probably made it, so he would wear it gratefully.

Hearing the sliding doors open, he turned, a teasing remark of, ‘Finally done?’ at the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t even get the chance.

How could he even say anything?

Just there, Momo in a resplendent silk furisode, cloaked in white and vermillion. She gave him a little twirl and he spied the phoenix at her back, feathered tail curling all over her, along with flowers bright red and yellow, exploding like fireworks. There were subtle patterns of teal and green that matched his eyes, while her hair was held up with a matching red kanzashi, stray locks curling over her ear and feathering her forehead.

Separated by years, two moments in time, and he still finds that his breath catches.

“How do I look, Shiro?”

A blush on her cheeks, eyes sparkling, happy and at peace.

He smiled.

“You look beautiful.”

Some things changed, but some things would always stay the same.

…

“I wonder if baasan got our card,” Momo murmured thoughtfully as she rubbed the silk between her two fingers. Hitsugaya-kun just hummed and nodded as he made a path for the two of them in the crowd, hand gripping hers firmly. She continued touching the silk with her other hand, softly marveling. It really was beautiful. Baasan must have started as soon as she finished with their wedding clothes to get these to them on time. The subtly sparkling white on her furisode reminded her of her shiromuku safely put away back in their private quarters at home, while the black in Hitsugaya-kun’s kimono reminded her of his montsuki. Baasan had playfully added Hyourinmaru’s four-point star as a crest, while lamenting that she couldn’t decide if she wanted Momo to wear white, or a colorful iro-uchikake.

Watching the softly falling snow outside, she had made the decision for her. Momo loved white. Baasan had only chuckled and said next time then. Letting the long sleeve fall smoothly from her hand like water, Momo smiled wondering if this was her version. This wasn’t their first shrine visit since they were married, but it was still a kind of first nonetheless.

Hitsugaya-kun briefly glanced back at her. “Don’t worry, we’ll visit her soon.” She nodded, still smiling at him.

…

“Yatta, I got great blessing! What did you get, Hitsugaya-kun?” Momo looked pleased with herself and that was more than enough for Toshiro, even as she couldn’t help her giggle at seeing his own fortune, sue-sho-kichi, small blessing to come. Toshiro wasn’t superstitious, but was the small really necessary?

Toshiro wasn’t superstitious but he’s been noticing a pattern lately. Momo tended to pull out good fortunes, almost always Dai-kichi, sometimes Chu-kichi. If the overwhelming misfortune she faced meant that the cosmic scale was being tipped back in her favor, then Toshiro thought that there was justice after all.

She traced the characters on her fortune, machibito, a person being expected or waited for, “The person you’re waiting for will come,” she mouthed softly, even as Toshiro’s heart jolted at seeing shussan on her fortune slip.

Even in moments of calm like this, sometimes the anxiety would spike up. To shake off the silly urge of wanting to bite his thumb nail he smoothed over endan and negaigoto on his own slip almost obsessively.

Hirako once told him that everything in reverse would come the right side way up eventually. He didn’t put much stock in the other captain’s words, and much less did he put stock in pieces of paper, but if they meant that Momo would have a lifetime of fortune and happiness, then he would believe them wholeheartedly. It was nothing less than she deserved. And if nothing else, he’ll believe in himself. He’ll will those fortunes to reality if he had to.

“These are good fortunes, aren’t they Hitsugaya-kun?”

They were.

…

Just before they were about to pray, Momo suddenly asked him, “What did you dream about, Hitsugaya-kun?”

“Nothing much, just the past.”

Momo suddenly chuckled, “I had an auspicious first dream, a hawk flying high in the sky.”

“Oh,” Toshiro raised a brow, questioning. People talked about signs all they liked but it was actually rare to dream about them.

Momo smiled sheepishly, “Hehe, well to be exact I dreamed about the first time Hitsugaya-kun showed me his bankai. I remember being so amazed at seeing you fly.”

Toshiro’s brow raised even higher, “So I’m a bird now, is that it? You know you can’t just make up signs like that.”

Momo just smiled back impishly. “I’m collecting luck. It’s a lucky sign if I say it is. It’s up to us to make our own happiness after all.”

Toshiro just sighed in fond exasperation, he’ll tell her later if she asked but he had dreamed about a moment in the past. It wasn’t a specific moment, in fact it could have been every moment, but he had dreamed of a simple scene of them eating watermelons and watching the sunset.

It had been so tranquil that when he woke up he was disoriented at how Momo seemed to have grown overnight while Granny was nowhere to be found. Had she snuck into his bed to sleep again? Concerned, he wondered if she had another nightmare, before noticing her clasped hands in front of her. It hit him all over again, like a kidou spell, the immense but quiet happiness. Uncharacteristic of him, he had woken her because he couldn’t contain himself. The scene of watching the sunset in his dreams replaced with watching the sunrise. They had been surrounded by the mountains of their hometown in his dreams. Perhaps that counted?

A clap interrupts his reverie. Softly but enough for him to hear, Momo releases her prayer for the gods to hear as well, ‘may they be clever and strong’.

Toshiro contemplates whether or not to tell her that prayers were usually silent, but he decides against it. He doesn’t mind. Anyway, he knows what his own prayer will be.

It’s the one he’s been wishing for every night for the past year.

…

Hatsuyuki ya suisen na ha na no tawamu made  

The first snow Just enough to bend The daffodil leaves

“I thought that you wanted your first calligraphy to be…”

“I know, I know what I said, but I can’t seem to think of anything,” Momo’s eyes as she looks up at him are pleading.

Stroking her head to calm her, he then picks up the paper to carefully store away. “It’s still good.”

Momo pouts slightly perhaps thinking he was only placating her. Unfurling it, Toshiro observes it more closely, “No really, it’s good. As always your handwriting is almost too pretty,” he smirks. Momo only puffs out her cheeks and crossed her arms pretending to be offended. Really her husband could still be so childish sometimes, finding it hard to say what he wanted to say. But Momo could still read him just the same. To him, anything she said or did was beautiful. She was beautiful. It was as simple as that.

Cupping his chin in hand, he asked her, “Do you want this here? I can place it in the entranceway.”

“No,” she shakes her head, “I made it for the tenth division. I hope Rangiku-san also likes it.”

“You know her. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Finally putting the paper away, he dragged over another writing desk to place in front of her. It was easier to move around and sit without his captain’s cloak over his shoulders. He can’t remember the last time he went so long without wearing it. “Speaking of Matsumoto, I hope the tenth division barracks is still standing.”

“Hush,” she chides, even as she smiles and puts brush to paper to begin another stroke, “You know Rangiku-san can be counted on when it really matters.”

Copying her, he also drew a straight line downwards, though perhaps less elegant looking. His strokes were blunt and precise, sometimes heavy-handed in places where the ink would bleed out, much the same as him. He was good at dispensing reports quickly and efficiently, but wasn’t really suited to crafting pieces of art (unless it was with blade and ice), slowly and with care. This was more Kira’s domain, or Momo’s. She could get so absorbed in each stroke that perhaps an hour would pass before she was finished with just one kanji. She wrote like she drew, as if there was meaning and an entire world in each line that made up a character. And perhaps for her there was. “I know, I know. I haven’t even had any reports yet so they can’t be doing too badly without me.”

He hadn’t said anything, but perhaps Matsumoto sensed that he would prefer not to be bothered unless it was truly an emergency. She was an excellent vice-captain like that, although he rarely said it out loud. Again, perhaps, many would call it uncharacteristic of him, that he wasn’t worrying every minute about his squad but he had enough on his mind and in his heart right now. Gazing at Momo in front of him, humming as she added another stroke, he let out a subtle sigh of relief.

He could leave it up to Matsumoto.

…

It’s Momo who wakes him up this time around, brimming with excitement.

“Shiro-chan, look! It’s snowing!”

How nostalgic, he thinks sleepily at hearing her laugh, ‘she hasn’t called me that in ages.’

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, anxiety once again begins to creep in, contrasting his wife’s honest pleasure. ‘Won’t it be too cold for her?’ There were times in the middle of the night when he would unconsciously place space between the both of them, memories flashing back to those early days when he couldn’t control his powers. But without fail and as if she had some sixth sense for it, she would only draw nearer, looping hands and legs together so he would find it harder to escape, mumbling incoherent things all the while as she drooled on him. He had no choice then but to fall blissfully back into sleep.

Noticing her husband’s contemplative gaze as he looked outside, Momo sighed and wagged a finger to catch his attention, “No messing with the weather, Shiro. I’m fine.” Cross-eyed, Toshiro reluctantly nodded. “Good,” she chirped. One crisis averted she snuggled closer, and waited for him to put his arms around her.

Suddenly and without warning, colors bloomed in the sky, a multitude of flowers sparkling brightly and dazzling. Momo could only gasp in delight.

‘Fireworks in the snow, huh?’ A far-off memory that couldn’t hurt them now.

Certainly, it was too cold, but drawing the presence nestled in his arms even more closely to him, Toshiro found that he didn’t mind. The fireworks were spectacular yes, but his gaze was permanently drawn downwards. Blue, red, yellow, pink played off across her face in flashes. He could watch fireworks forever illuminated in her eyes. There, they would never fizzle out, the sparks would never die, rather they would shine brightly forever, so long as she kept looking at him.

Suddenly overcome with feeling, he wanted exactly that. He could only whisper her name, even if there were only the two of them, “Momo…”

“Hmmm,” she responded turning to meet his eyes with her own despite the display continuing above them, “What is it, Shiro-cha –“

He was a patient man, he was. And he’ll ask forgiveness for interrupting her later, but at this moment, he wanted nothing more than her lips on his. He should let her get some rest, he should, his mind was clearly telling him that he should, so why was his treacherous body tightening his arms around her, one hand roughly weaving fingers in her hair as he tilted her head back.

She was no better, fingers wound as tightly in his own hair, drawing out a soft groan he tried to muffle against her neck, as he kissed it feverishly, softly biting to leave blooms of his own on the milky skin, a counterpoint to the flowers up in the sky. Hyoten Hyakkaso without his zanpakuto, though these flower burned rather than froze.

There were times he was deathly afraid he would freeze her, but right now, nothing else plagued his mind besides her, and as he drew her down with him, for once he didn’t mind the snow, for he was sure he could warm her as long as he kept her close.

Up in the sky, the fireworks brightly shined and illuminated them both.

…

They write together quietly, Momo occasionally showing him a character to ask his opinion on it. She had already finished with the first one, excitedly showing it to him in a bit of feverish excitement.

The strokes for ‘flower’ and ‘fire’ were lively and vibrant. It matched her perfectly. Toshiro had agreed immediately.

It was the second one they were having trouble with. Toshiro had suggested the characters for ‘spring’ and ‘tree’. It reminded Momo of Tobiume, and Momo didn’t exactly mind it for ‘spring’ matched with his own ‘winter’, but something still felt out of place.

“Isn’t it too early for spring?” In truth, it was more that she wanted more of him reflected in these strokes and lines. She places ‘sun’ next to ‘happiness’.

Hitsugaya-kun only shrugs. Momo could only smile at him fondly. “I hope they’re more like you,” she says as she idly traces the strokes for ‘wish’.

Hitsugaya-kun merely smirks back at her. “Then looks like we’re in conflict since I hope they’ll take after you.”

Momo sticks out her tongue in playful indignation. “I’m sure the kami-sama will listen to my request over yours. I’ve been collecting more luck after all.” ‘Clever and strong,’ was what she had prayed for, ‘just like their father’.

Hitsugaya-kun shakes his head in amusement. Peering over to her side, he looks at what she’s been working on, “That could work.”

Momo hums thoughtfully, looking at the character this way and that. It seems perfect – a wish, a hope, a prayer – but it didn’t seem to be quite exactly what they were looking for.

“What have you got?” She leans more to his side, before bursting into a fit of laughter. If Hitsugaya-kun is embarrassed, he makes a valiant effort not to show it. On his paper, the character for ‘big’ in bold, black, strokes. Momo’s face softens at seeing the character under it, ‘shine’. It might be her own imagination that it seems like it’s glowing.

“They’re perfect.”

…

They made it just in time for the fire festival. Perhaps it was incongruous for them to be burning something they’d been working on for days, but this was just its own kind of prayer.

Both of them hold paper lanterns, in his, ‘Hanabi’ in her own script, in hers, ‘Haruki’ in his. Small bright lights cupped into the palms of their hands. As one they let both lanterns go, up in the sky, where they’ll burn brightly and send all their prayers up to the sky.

Fervently, Momo clasps her hands together, Toshiro a steady and unwavering presence around her.

She hopes.

…

Even if they had hoped for peace to continue, truly their idyllic days couldn’t last. They were still commanding officers, and when Matsumoto shows up on their doorstop one day, he knows exactly what it means.

He knows, but it doesn’t mean he has to like it.

Rangiku likes it no more than her taichou. She can’t even tease the both of them over the marks she spies not covered by Momo’s kimono. “Taichou…It’s Naruki City.”

He closes his eyes in aggravation, fingers closed over the bridge of his nose to stave off the migraine, as Momo and his Vice-captain look at him concerned.

For once, he wants to be selfish. It’s so close, too close. For once, he wants to forget about his captain’s cloak and his responsibilities and just stay here to shelter Momo from everything. Opening his eyes, he meets Momo’s own and is both equally dismayed and encouraged by the resolve he finds there.

Momo didn’t become a Shinigami to be protected. She became a Shinigami to protect. And it’s the same for him (except doesn’t she know by now, after everything, that she was the one he wanted to protect most of all).

Without words, she goes to get his captain’s cloak. If she feels his hands shake as she helps him put it on, then at least only she would know.

She cradles his face in her hands, arms going up to reach him now instead of down. He doesn’t know what she sees in his face, if it looks like he’s about to cry, but she only smiles calmly, ruffling his hair. When before, he had swatted her hand away, now he only leans into the simple comfort. He closes his eyes as he feels Momo draw him down and touch her forehead to his. His erratic heartbeat slows at hearing her breathe.

“I’m off.”

“Please go and come back,” she says as she bows on the engawa. There is no fear in her eyes, only trust as if telling him, ‘go and I’ll be here to welcome you when you return’. He wishes it was the same for him. He swallows before turning forward. He stops Matsumoto with a hand to her shoulder.

He has no words. “Matsumoto…”

Eyes widening in understanding, she starts worriedly, “The reports say there are at least five arrancars, taichou. I already commanded the rest of the troops stationed there to come back. I was planning to handle them myself…but the soutaichou said the both of us needed to be there.” Hitsugaya was glad she didn’t go by herself. He appreciated the soutaichou intervening on his behalf. Knowing Matsumoto, she would have rushed there headstrong and foolish for his sake.

All the points she raised were valid ones, but again all he could say was, “Matsumoto, please…” I need you here.  

There were moments where no words needed to be said, and the communication between a captain and vice-captain could be almost telepathic. This was one such moment, and as Rangiku gazed up at her not-so-little anymore captain, she could only smile in resignation, “Gotcha, taichou. But when you come back, I’m expecting an all-expense paid vacation. I’ve been working my butt off! Hey, Momo,” she called back, already making her way into the house, as Momo gazed at him with a question in her eyes, “Let’s go together!” Hitsugaya only smiled back.

Committing the sight of his wife and vice-captain smiling together, he tightened his grip on Hyourinmaru and set off.

…

Both his mind and body were on auto-pilot. He was glad Hyourinmaru had his back. It wasn’t like back then when his zanpakuto had to artificially mature him just so he could handle his own bankai. He had fully matured in all senses of the word, and had full mastery of his true bankai.

It was good that he was alone. There was no collateral damage except the enemy so he could release Shikai Hyoketsu without repercussions. But without Matsumoto there to support him, he felt more alone than ever.

He was getting tired. He lost count of how many enemies he had slain, of his own wounds and bruises. There was only one thought in his mind – to get home no matter what.

Using his sword as a crutch, he breathed out heavily before suddenly slashing out Hyoryu Senbi at the new presence he felt.

The shadow dodged and clicked his tongue. “Is that anyway ta greet yer elders? Ya look like you’ve been through hell. Need a little hand?”

Disoriented, Hitsugaya could only gape at the newcomer, “Hirako?”

“The one and only.”

Hitsugaya might have thought he was hallucinating but there was no mistaking that too-wide grin and tacky haircut. “What are you doing here? Naruki City isn’t under your jurisdiction.”

That carefree smile suddenly turned serious, “No it’s not, but I know someone who is under my jurisdiction. And I’m sure she’s missin’ a neglectful husband.” Hitsugaya growled at that. “What’re ya doin’ here? Do I have ta tell my daughter to divorce you?”

“For the last time,” a vein ticked in his forehead, this seemed like an eerily familiar experience he was having, “She is not your daughter! And anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

He might have if not for another presence suddenly jumping in, “Oh, what? Am I interrupting a lover’s quarrel or something.”

“Nah, just an in-laws spat.”

What the hell?  

He couldn’t decide what expression he was supposed to be showing. Maybe Hirako decided to finally take pity on him as he decided to answer him. “The soutaichou sent us because it looks like someone forgot to bring their vice-captain.” Heh, more like they persuaded him. Even if that softie hadn’t already been ready to pull him out after hearing he stupidly went alone, Shinji’s sure Lisa’s kick to his backside, and Nanao-chan’s sharp glare would just about do the trick. Eh, a few misplaced forms never hurt anyone. “Color me surprised when I found out Naruki City was actually under the fifth and the eight’s joint jurisdiction. Who coulda been so stupid as to put it under the tenth’s all this time?”

Hitsugaya didn’t know what was going on.

Shinji sighed. The kid could be so slow sometimes. “Oi, Hitsugaya. Lisa also brought her vice-captain. I’m sure two captains and a vice-captain would be more efficient than one captain. Yer not needed here, so wouldja just hurry on to where you’re supposed ta be already?”

Finally shaken out of his stupor, he could say nothing. He put his own misgivings aside, and bowed low.

“Thank you.”

As the tenth squad captain shunpoed out of there, Shinji let out a whistle. “What d’ya know? The kid has manners after all. Let’s hurry this up Lisa. I got a grandchild to welcome.” “Lame,” Lisa replied, completely deadpan.

He let it off.

It was a joyous occasion after all.

…

She wasn’t there. She wasn’t at home.

His mind was perfectly blank.

He couldn’t feel her reiatsu anywhere.

“Hitsugaya-taichou!”

What was his seventh seat doing here?

“Matsumoto fuku-taichou brought Hitsugaya fuku-taichou to the fourth.”

Hitsugaya-taichou immediately left without even greeting him, but Takezoe didn’t hold it against his captain. With a dozen children of his own, he’d been where the young man was now. He only hoped his captain would make it in time.

…

He doesn’t remember how he reached the fourth, only overwhelming panic.

He could feel the temperature lowering, but only distantly, the calls of his title heard in a vacuum as if he was somewhere very far away.

‘Hitsugaya-taichou, please reign down your reiatsu.’

‘Taichou, please control it, it might affect the patients.’

‘It might affect…’

“Taichou!”

He felt as if he was roughly woken up from sleep. Heavily, he lifted his head up, “Matsumoto…”

“Taichou,” Rangiku said more softly. Her little captain wasn’t so little anymore. More than once he’d had to support her when Shiba-taichou left, and even after…

But now, as she sees how he trembles under her hands on his shoulders, subtly curling into himself, eyes haunted, she is taken back to years past, to a little boy so afraid of hurting the people he loves.

Matsumoto’s voice brings him back. He can sense a cacophony of reiatsu, all mingling together, that it was hard to tell them all. Abarai with his daughter, both Kuchikis even, Kira, Hisagi, his squad, members from other squads, her friends, their colleagues, their friends.

But that only serves to forcefully remind him that he was doing it again, he can’t stop it, he’s the greatest danger to those around him, to her, he can’t ever protect her, and as he shivers, the ice creeps up even faster.

“Taichou,” Matsumoto says, voice still soft. Placing her palm firmly against his heart, she pleads, “Please. Listen.”

Boy

A thunderous sound, more presence than voice. Hyourinmaru

Shiro-chan

Toshiro

A sound like wind-chimes, laughter threading every word. He gasps.

“It’s alright,” Matsumoto assures him, smiling brightly. “She’s alright. She knows you’re here.”

…

In the end, both their wishes are granted.

Both their children have her hair, hers lit like a coal flame, his softer and reminding him of forests and trees, the coming of spring. His hair was too unique to be passed onto anyone else, she manages to joke, but no matter because she still got what she wished for. Rubbing both chubby cheeks and coaxing both eyes to open, he sees what she means when he sees his own eyes reflected back at him. Brightly shining with an inner light.

They would shine brightly, he vows to himself, as he envelops her, all of them, to him, while he buries his face against her hair.

“Shiro-chan,” she laughs, the happiest she’s been, “Are you crying?” She hardly if ever has seen him cry. She nuzzles her cheek to his. “What am I to do with my crybaby husband?”

He can’t even manage his usual ‘shut up’ amidst his tears, only hugging them closer.  Thank you.

Momo smiles. The person you’re waiting for will come.

He did. They did.

They were all home.

Okaerinasai.

[bleachbleachbleach]

We're informes that young Byakuya was an ambitious, confident and such an energetic boy. What do you think the turning point responsible for the extreme change of his personality? I mean he went through a lot like losing his parent, had to disobey the law of the clan by marrying Hisana, then in the end he had to lost her too. Also being a noble clan head was silently such a pain. But what do you think is the most prominent cause? Or is it simply 'climbing into adulthood'?

I feel like if you were to ask Byakuya, he’d give you some well-rehearsed line about comportment befitting the 28th Head of the Kuchiki Clan and Captain of the 6th Division.

If you were Rukia and he caught you whispering something with Ukitake about Hisana, he probably wouldn’t disabuse you of whatever notion you and your captain had concocted.

if you were Byakuya, you probably wouldn’t hesitate to name some specific, discrete reason or set of reasons you are the way that you are.

But I’d resist naming a specific, discrete turning point—primarily to resist Byakuya’s inclinations, because what has he done to deserve those, but also because if Byakuya genuinely had his way then refusing gray areas and being hardline about how your life is going to go and what you should do to atone for your more whimsical decisions and what rules you must promise to uphold—that all would have worked out for him, in ways that it clearly didn’t. Because that’s not how life works.

Which isn’t to say that flashpoint moments don’t exist, or that there aren’t life occurrences that can have massive, traceable effects on the person you are, or become. Of course they can. But I don’t think Byakuya is the way that he is because of X, specifically, or even Y.

No matter what he says, or even personally believes.

I do think part of it is simply being older than we saw him in TBTP; but I’d hesitate to draw a complete picture of what Byakuya was like as a teenager from the one instance that we saw. He was in the yard, in the middle of a training session, and he was being terrorized by Yoruichi. He’s hyped up on endorphins and acting like a brat because he’s being treated like a brat by another adult brat. At that age, Byakuya was probably still spending a bunch of time shadowing clan meetings and doing calligraphy and writing dense, pedantic poetry about raccoons or shikai or whatever. He was probably also doing a lot of "traditionally Byakuya, as we know him" things, in the same way that Byauya, as we know him, still takes time out of his day to do completely insane things (more on that later. a numbered list, in fact).

How much of this is publicly available (or isn’t) does probably have a lot to do with being Clan Head. And sure, Clan Head is a role that he performs, but I think he believes in this whole clan head thing with every fiber of his being; like, he’s method. He’s the gonzo journalist of being clan head. he *is* this thing. And if there are parts of that role that are not desirable to him (I’m sure that there are) I don’t think he thinks about them as being a pain. They simply are. They are, and they are his, and he has never imagined a reality where they are not. We talk about shinigami being defined by their job but the man is the clan head, irreducibly and inextricably. 

I think he’s discovered, between TBTP and now, that to be less knowable is to be powerful, in almost any situation he can imagine. Not that he doesn’t love a good opportunity to pontificate, but that’s like the reward at the end of a successful round of impassivity. Plus his pontifications are more allusive than genuinely educational, so it’s really just more of the same, in a different key. (When Urahara infodumps, he likes seeing the shape of your eyes change, and all the little microexpressions that are tied like puppet-strings to all the small epiphanies happening in your brain. When Hitsugaya infodumps, he wants you do have information and, ideally, have it correctly. But when Byakuya infodumps, he’s performing a philosophical treatise and it doesn’t really matter whether it’s parsable by you, the audience, or not.)

And of course I think he’s also been shaped by his time with Hisana and his time without her; with and without his father (and one assumes, his mother; with and without Rukia. But there’s no way to measure or organize these different influences and isolate the variables and during his designated moments allotted to introspection he’s probably not completely thrilled by that. So he suffers, as do we all. XD

I also think part of him is just naturally That Way; he’s a born, organic weirdo; a standoffish strangeman. That’s in addition to havng grown up and found out that it’s smarter, more strategic, and more effective in terms of getting what he wants to be a little more Enigma and a little less Boy Shouts at Cat. 

On the other hand, we’ve definitely seen him be about 10000000000000000x more bananas in the current canon timeline than he ever could have dreamed in that one TBTP flashback:

1) He tried to imprison his own VC for losing to Ichigo, a proposal so insane every single other person was like, "well, that’s fucking stupid, so we’ll be ignoring that" even though technically he probably does have that power, since Captains can run their division however they want.

2) He almost killed his own VC in the middle of an active invasion, for reasons that only vaguely had anything to do with actually responding to said invasion.

I’ll give him a pass on fighting Ichigo, because technically that was his job? maybe? and sure, he did it in an ineffective way but that tracks with the overall Gotei strategic plan, so.

4) Immediately leapt to slashing his own tendons, deep in enemy territory, his only fallback plan being Hanatarou’s ability to survive and do anything about those tendons afterward.

5) Fought Zaraki deep in the middle of enemy territory, with Yammy still in play, in the middle of a war that YOU KNOW WHAT, THEY PROBABLY COULD’VE BEEN BACK FOR (not that it would’ve mattered, but) if they weren’t fucking around in the desert together

And that all happened in the same like, four months!

One of the scenes that I absolutely love from the Beast Swords Arc is someone commenting on how surprisingly baffling Senbonzakura’s personality was, in contrast to Byakuya’s. And Kyouraku and Ukitake don’t belabor the point, but they’re kinda like "weeee~ll hahaha" and I think that’s an incredibly accurate non-assessment of who Byauya both was and is.

I don’t think he secretly wants to be a drunk buffoon and his being Clan Head is the only thing holding him back from living his frat boy truth. I think he’s already living his truth because, from his POV, what else would he be doing? He’s Kuchiki Byakuya. Whatever he’s doing is whatever he intends to be doing.

However, I also believe that many people around him don’t actually see (have been trained not to? don’t know him well enough to? are politely pretending not to have seen?) part of the truth he’s living—the part that is that bananas streak in him, very much alive and well.

[seireiteihellbutterfly]

Bleach Masterlist - Drabbles/One-Shots/Scenarios

Everything has been appropriately labeled, please do not read the ones marked MDNI if you are a minor

Drabbles/One-Shots/Scenarios:

Flower Crowns with Izuru (13+, suggestive) These Lonely Nights (feat Jushiro, 18+, MDNI) Bleach Men and Shy Reader (Rated T, ask box, feat Hitsugaya, Shinji, Shunsui) Happy Lines (Rated E, feat Jushiro) Sakura Blossom Confessions (E, GinXByakuya) Crushed (M/16+, feat Aizen) Your Comfort First(Rated T, feat Jushiro) Lost In Translation (T/13+, feat Byakuya) Baby Fever (MDNI, feat Jushiro) Booked(feat Hisagi, rated E) Braided Hair (Rated E, featuring Jushiro) Patience Is A Virtue(MDNI, feat Jushiro) Red Like An Apple (Rated T/13+, feat Shinji) ASMR Session (Rated E, feat Jushiro) Petals of Poise (Rated E, feat Byakuya)

[toshirohitsu]

Last episode dug up this thought I have been playing with for years now: I wonder how high the ceiling is for Toshiro

We know that he is a prodigy - made obvious not only by the fact that we are told but also by the fact that he became a Captain at quite a young age. This in itself isn't too crazy, considering the fact that there are other prodigies present within the narrative. Gin Ichimaru was regarded as a prodigy as well

However, Toshiro seems to be different even from other prodigies. The whole fact that his bankai wasn't even perfected (which is crazy) aside, there are some narrative points which really make me wonder about his potential

Shunsui (one of the oldest and strongest Captains of the Gotei) himself wagers that Toshiro will surpass him in about a hundred years. Considering he has been around for a good while, I take it as a rather accurate estimate

Which is insane if you think about it. Shunsui has at least abour a 1000 years on him and yet guesses that it would take him about a hundred years to surpass him

On the other hand we have something that became very clear during the last episode. Toshiro's bond with his Zanpakuto seems to be extraordinarily strong. Aside from Ichigo, Renji and Shunsui, the manga doesn't give us all that much information about the Zanpakuto spirits. Shunsui's was shown out of a narrative need, as it played an essential role in his and Nanao's story and Ichigo is the MC. Renji's was shown for us to grasp the concept of how there is the possibility that might not be perfectly aligned with their Zanpakuto. Ichigo is the MC... Self explanatory

Meanwhile we did not just get this show of trust in the last episode but also an entire chapter add-on dedicated to the awakening of Hyorinmaru/Hitsugaya's initial meeting with him. It's intriguing. Why does the manga emphasize so much on this connection?

On top of that, we also received all these motifs that seem to parallel Yamamoto (something I have talked about in more detail in the past). Shaking Kubo by the shoulders as I wonder if all of this is just favoritism of some sort or if there is truly something very special about him that is still waiting for us to discover it

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

Oh I really like this meme! UMMMM I am interested in every answer for every character!

4. Driving headcanon - Ichigo

4. Driving headcanon - Hitsugaya (I don’t think he can drive and I don’t think he’s ever considered needing to, but IF HE DID--)

20. Relationship with - Hisagi and Hinamori (from either’s POV)

14. Dancing headcanon - Matsumoto

I’ll stop myself now because 4 is a lot for one post but if you want more later do let me know! XDD

Send me a character and number for a headcanon

4. Driving headcanons - Ichigo and Hitsugaya

Ichigo: you bet this guy is the designated chauffeur for the Sereitei in Karakura Town. The Shinigami want to go to the beach? Ichigo's gonna take them there! Need to get to the town next door and don't want to take the train? Ichigo is there! Hopelessly lost and somehow ended up three towns away from Karakura? Ichigo to the rescue! Most times it's just an unspoken rule (for the Shinigami at least...Ichigo needs some convincing before he decides to give anyone a lift).

Because of this, Ichigo will ask for payment for the fuel, though what this payment is varies as most Shinigami don't exactly carry Yen with them (it ranges from paying for lunches and dinners all the way to buying Kazui and/or Orihime gifts). There's been some interesting moments during these lifts, such as:

Byakuya (visiting because he knows Karakura means a lot to Rukia and Renji) needing a lift to a particular store and just getting into the back seat without any prompting, and Ichigo wondering why the heck he chose to sit there rather than in the front seat with him ('It just felt like the natural choice' Byakuya would reason).

Mayuri, visiting the World of the Living for god knows what reason, studying the heck out of the car and wondering how he can turn into a weapon or something terrible back in the Seireitei. Ichigo just gives him the car manual to read rather than tear his car apart.

That one time he gave a lift to Nel because she wanted to go somewhere and didn't realise Grimmjow had come along too. Grimmjow chased down the car and Ichigo thought he was looking for a fight and stepped on the gas to get away, until Nel told him he was looking for a lift too...or maybe a fight, actually.

The regulars: Renji, Rukia, and Ichika, with Kazui and Orihime usually tagging along, going on touristy trips or to the beach. Sometimes Orihime has to take over for driving because Ichigo and Rukia argue too much.

Hitsugaya (IF he needed to drive and he is of the physical age to do so ie. a situation where the driving instructor wouldn't wonder why a mother (Rangiku) is asking her 'son' to learn how to drive so young): in this case, there's a roadtrip coming up, and at least two of the three people need to learn how to drive. Hitsugaya didn't necessarily volunteer, but he somehow finds himself in this situation when Rangiku signed them up for World of the Living driving lessons. Before he came, he became knowledgeable about what exactly a car is. Well, he's good with the theory part, but the actually practice...yeah, he's not a prodigy at everything.

20. Relationship headcanon - Hisagi and Hinamori

Ah, a relationship that needs to be explored more in general! I've always headcanoned that Hisagi visited Momo in the time between her recovering in the Arrancar arc and her arrival at Fake Karakura Town. She was resting up at Fifth Division, and having not seen her since Aizen's betrayal, Hisagi (perhaps along with Izuru) goes to visit her. He may have even been pushed a little to do so due to his share experience of being betrayed. Their conversation starts off pleasant, Hisagi telling her what he's been up to and the two recounting memories from the Academy and some lieutenant-related ones. Eventually Momo, still in denial about Aizen's betrayal, focuses on how Hisagi feels, asking him how he felt after what Tosen did. Hisagi gives his pretty honest feelings, trying to understand why Tosen left them; Momo eventually admits to feeling the same for Aizen, even comes on the brink of admitting she knows he betrayed them. This conversation helped her come to terms with Aizen's true self before she went to Karakura Town.

14. Dancing headcanon - Matsumoto

Well, it's canon that Rangiku does traditional Japanese dancing, but where did she learn it? Growing up in the lower districts, it's unlikely she saw anything that would've inspired her to take ti up. Maybe she snuck into a higher district somehow and saw some women perform a dance? I think the more likely answer was when she entered the Academy and was introduced to a bunch of things she never had in her district; one of those things was a dance performance done at a festival she visited with academy friends. At first she just loved watching it, but in her spare time found herself mimicing the movements. Most of her friends didn't think she could do lessons, she had a hard time sticking to any hobby she picked up as is, but a few encouraged her, including Gin (because he wanted her to finally have something she truly wanted and made her happy, somethign she could never have in the district they grew up in). After graduating from the Academy, she used most of her saving to get lessons from a teacher in one of the high districts. She rarely spoke about the lessons to anyone, in part because she feared she would drop the lessons and prove the nah sayers right, but also because it became a personal hobby for her. Because of this, the only people who knows she can perform traditional dancing are Gin, Toshiro, and a few members of the Women's Association.

Thanks for sending this in! :D Feel free to send in more, these are fun to do!!

[recurring-polynya]

I'm on vacation, so here is a random grab-bag of Soul Society thoughts I had while staring into the sea today (this is mostly for @bleachbleachbleach but you can read it too)

One of my favorite conceits of B3's writing (I feel like things that appear in fanfiction are sort promoted from headcanons but I don't have a good word for it) is the notion that Rukongai has its own magic that is fundamentally different and, in fact, somewhat opposed to shinigami magic. This first shows up in Afar, Afar, where Momo loses her ability to see spirits in Junrinan (and perhaps even her memory that such a thing exists). There was also a notion of it in REVERSE THE BONE (the best Weird Rukongai fic ever written) about the train, which already exists in a sort of quantum state where it sometimes exists both forward and backward in time, but also that the journey depends on the passengers. There's a quote at the beginning, but nonetheless, has completely rewired my brain (it has been over a month, and I am still thinking about it):

Hisagi does not find this mollifying. “Yeah, but I don’t even think Captain Kuchiki gets the same train as the rest of us. Have you ever tried to use his restaurant reviews? Because I always print these things, and they sound great, then I go. And then they’ll look at me like—Well. It’s like I’m not even at the same restaurant. But hey, at least you’ll get to see a lot, right? I’ve heard East Rukongai these days is… fine!”

Within the context of the story, this is just hyperbole. Of course Byakuya experiences things differently, he's incredibly rich and powerful, etc, etc, but the thing that sticks in my head about this is that Byakuya is fundamentally different from Hisagi, and also Hitsugaya and Hinamori, who are the protagonists of this piece, because he is a creature of Soul Society and they are not.

The Rukon is a place for ghosts. For beings that lived a life on Earth and died. It is an afterlife. A thing I find incredibly interesting is that nearly all the Rukon-hailing shinigami we know of died as children. Additionally, they are all Really Good at being shinigami--captains and vice-captains, although this is a function of Bleach being a story about the more powerful members of Soul Society. Anyway, I think this is not a coincidence.

Two things that are true about Bleach are that: a) liminal things, hybrid things, things that exist at the boundaries of two other things, tend to be more powerful b) power is also achieved through transformation

It makes 100% sense to me that a child ghost has more potential to become in Soul Society. We also know that aging is non-linear, and that age changes tend to come in concert with increases in power. All of this feels very consistent and right to me.

In particular, consider Rukia, who died as a baby (and we don't know this for sure, but her sister, who died as an older child or teen did not seem to have the same potential). She was human, but only got to live a small fraction of the life she could have, and instead, went to Soul Society, and became such a creature of Soul Society, that she not only achieved bankai, but trained in the Royal Realm, a thing that few other shinigami get to do.

This reminded me of a line from my own fanfic, Hold On, Hold On, where I was trying to make sense of the "lieutenant is equivalent of nobility" thing (through the convenient mouthpieces of Kira and Hinamori):

“High ranking shinigami are basically considered to be nobility,” Izuru explains. “Or close enough for most purposes.” “The argument goes,” Momo elaborates, in a way that she knows will resonate with Renji, “that the reason nobles are noble is because their souls are so pure and strong, right? So how else can you explain the captains that come from Rukongai? You can’t, so you have to act like they’re noble, too, right? Noble logic.”

And while I don't think I'm wrong, what if there's more to it? What if there is something that is fundamental to one's nature that nobles and powerful shinigami have in common, something that also corresponds to the nature of the Seireitei.

There's one other thing that I think they may have in common, and that's the ability to reproduce. Fanon is split on this topic, but I've always been of the mind that having babies in Soul Society is something only people with strong spiritual energy are able to do. So, in that sense, if noble people see themselves as defined by having been born in the Soul Society, of being creatures who have never lived, it's not exactly the same, but a Rukongai wandering soul who gains the ability to reproduce is certainly a step closer, no?

(Is this the part where I talk about Soul Society nobility and their parallels to faeries, with their low birthrate and stealing babies and people of talent to join their underground magical kingdom?)

An interesting ramification of all of this, is that you've got Rukia and Renji, who represent one of the most successful cases of dead souls acclimating to Soul Society and reaching the highest echelons of power, but I strongly suspect that there are still some fundamentally Rukon things about them-- things they see, things they feel, things they remember. What makes this extra cool to me is the fact that they hang out with Byakuya, the product of dozens of generations of Soul Society lineage. In fact, the catalyst for all of this thinking was me thinking about Byakuya having an instinctive distrust of the sea, whereas Rukia and Renji and Hisana all love it. Now, I am generally not very interested in Ichika, but I am interested in the fact that she is something different than her parents. That on some level she has more in common with Byakuya. I mean, is this the origin stories for Soul Society's noble clans in the first place? Some souls made themselves powerful enough to make more of themselves?? That is a pretty interesting thought to me, not that I've come up with anything interesting to do with it. It's like, what if you were a changeling, and you got adopted by the king of the faeries and you had a baby with another human changeling, but your baby was a faery? (Polynya, this was the plot of Books of Magic. Kinda sorta. You have somehow achieved your life goal of six degrees of John Constantine-ing Tim Hunter and Kuchiki Rukia and it was entirely by accident.)

Anyway, that was my complete quota of interesting Ichika thoughts for today (I still think it would have been cooler if they got to conceive a baby in the Royal Realm but no one asked me).

The more interesting direction that these thoughts took goes back to B3's fic, in the sense of: do the nobles avoid the Rukon? What is it that they don't like about it? The implication is always just basically that it's poor and not as nice as the Seireitei, but what if there are things that are in opposition to the law and order that people like Yamamoto have imposed on the controlled area inside the city walls. Even the Shiba, the infamous rebel outcasts only live in District 1.

Consider Ukitake's backstory--his noble family were so desperate to save their sick child that they went out to District 76 and made a deal with a god/a piece of the Soul King (is there a difference? does it matter?), a thing which gave Ukitake the capability to become a vessel for a god. I feel like Mimihagi wouldn't/couldn't have made that deal with an ordinary soul. This happened a super long time ago and I bet there have been all kinds of cautionary tales, etc, to discourage this kind of behavior today. (Which also ties a little into Yhwach's "the Gotei used to be better, you suck now" comment)

I'm not really converging on any sort of conclusion, here, it's just sort of interesting to me. The Rukongai sort of represents wild lawlessness, I think, the loss of rules and sense. The TYBW is all about how the order of Soul Society (and Hueco Mundo and the Living World) is a thing that was invented for and by the shinigami for their own benefit, and I think they don't even really have control of their entire realm, just the central bit.

There's a constant fanon outcry of "why do the shinigami neglect Rukongai?" and it's always because "Soul Society sucks" and "Central 46 is dicks" etc, but I think it's interesting to think about the shinigami as a social order that truly has limited power, and that there is a lot of shit in the Rukon that is more than is dreamt of in their philosophy, if you get my drift, whether it's werewolf clans or trains that don't obey the laws of time and space. It's like the way in a horror movie, the cop or the army dude gets taken down by the monster in the woods who is eventually defeated by a teen or something. Shinigami are very powerful when it comes to dealing with the interface between the World of the Living and their personal World of the Dead, but they are less well equipped to deal with the things in their own backyard.

Regretfully, none of this cohered in my head into anything that I could spin into a good story (I'm not sure they even cohered into this essay), but maybe it will roll around in my head long enough to grow a pearl, who knows?

[roguedarkscribe]

Fireworks

Hitsuhina Week 2023 - Day 1: Academy Days / Fireworks

Rating: K

Summary: Hitsugaya is preparing to take his Captain's Exam. But doubts weigh heavy on his mind.

AN: Originally posted on AO3

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Eyes followed him everywhere he went. It wasn’t unusual for him, his white hair and turquoise eyes tended to draw attention whether he wanted it or not. But these days, the stares were more intensely judging him. It was no secret that Toshiro Hitsugaya had been working on mastering his bankai for the past few years. But since Captain Shiba had vanished, and the Tenth Division was in need of a captain, he’d begun to consider taking the Captain’s Exam to fill that vacancy. Once word got out that he’d take the exam, every soul reaper he’d pass would stare and whisper among one another. He’d learned to ignore most people talking about him but hearing it from within his own division was another thing.

He’d heard a few unranked members talk about transferring if he was made captain. Laughing at how ridiculous it would be for them to take orders from a kid. Fortunately, Lieutenant Matsumoto seemed to be in full support of him should he be made captain. After all, he’d practically been running the whole place since even before Captain Shiba left. His administrative skills were evident since the very beginning. The questions laid mostly in his maturity and leadership. Hitsugaya made it to his room after training after dodging most of the larger streets to avoid the stares. Entering his room, he began his nightly routine of polishing his zanpakuto and planning with the spirit for what to practice tomorrow. “My Sennen Hyoro could use work. The pillars are too thin. I’m sure there is a way to strengthen them without expending too much energy.” He said.

In his mind he heard Hyorinmaru rumble in agreement. “You think too much in preparation,” The dragon said. “Lay the trap. Then lead the enemy within.”

“That leaves too much up for chance.”

The dragon spoke quietly in an almost nurturing tone and said, “Not ready.”

Hitsugaya caught his reflection in the blade and simply held the sword where it was. Not ready meant too young. And as he looked at himself, he thought that perhaps the dragon is right. Not ready to perfect his bankai. And perhaps even too young to become captain. His face was still boyish and he was quite short even for his age. The idea that he could even achieve bankai wasn’t even taken seriously by most. Men in his own division had doubts. Maybe the entire division would be better off waiting for someone else to take over. He’d still be the 3rd seat and that would give him time to grow up and gain further mastery of his bankai.

“Lil’ Shiro!” A loud knock on his door pulled him from his thoughts as he looked at the shadow of the figure outside. “Lil’ Shiro you in there?”

Hitsugaya groaned, putting his zanpakuto away. “What is it Hinamori?” He asked as he slid open the door.

“Hello to you too, Lil’ Shiro,” She beamed at him, not even bothered by the annoyed tone of his voice.

“I thought you said you’d call me by my name once I became a soul reaper.”

She just smiled and shrugged, “I did. And I do, at least when on official business. But right now, we’re both off so, you’re Lil’ Shiro.”

He groaned, realizing he wasn’t likely to get her to stop at least not now anyway. “Can you at least drop the ‘Lil’’? I’m not that short anymore.”

Hinamori laughed, “Okay Lil’— I mean, Shiro.”

“What do you want anyway?”

“I wanted to know if you’d come with me back to my barracks.” Her voice dropped into a whisper as she cupped her hands as though it were some big secret. “We planned a special fireworks show for Captain Aizen’s birthday tonight.”

“You realize everyone already knows about that, right?”

“Come on it’ll be fun. Just like the ones we’d watch as kids.” She reached out and grabbed his arm and began tugging.

Hitsugaya rolled his eyes and debated the option of going versus staying for a solid minute before agreeing. Outwardly, it looked as though he was reluctant to attend. But deep down he knew that his mind had been made up the moment she smiled at him.

Together, the two of them made their way in the direction of the Fifth Division. The closer they got, the more people seemed to already be crowding the street waiting for the fireworks. Hinamori had to elbow her way through, dragging him along behind her in order to get to the gate where guards stopped them. With a flash of her lieutenant’s badge, she got them both in without any further fuss and they made their way to the roof where a bunch of other officers gathered. They found a relatively quiet part and Hinamori sat down, her feet dangling over the edge while Hitsugaya remained standing.

“Hey I meant to congratulate you on getting a date for your Captain’s Exam,” She said.

“Hmm.”

“When’s it going to be?”

“Two weeks.”

Hinamori frowned. “I thought you’d be a little excited about it,” She said.

He turned his head towards the nearest pair of officers, feeling their eyes on the back of his head. When their eyes met, the pair just laughed and turned in on themselves.

She noticed this silent exchange and stood up. “Hey, I’ll take care of it.”

“Don’t,” Hitsugaya sighed.

“You’re going to be a captain. I can’t have members of my division not be respectful to the other captains.”

He was quiet and glanced around to make sure no one could hear him before he spoke again. “What if… what if I don’t become captain?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

He shrugged and bowed his head slightly, his shoulders rolled forward a little. “What if… I don’t get it? What if I fail?”

Hinamori moved around to step in front of him, looking down at her best friend who was one of the smartest, bravest people she knows show her how nervous he really is. Hitsugaya was not one to show weakness often and for him to do so right now, she had a feeling this had been eating away at him for awhile. “Here, come with me.” Taking his arm, she quickly brought him down into the barracks and then into her room shutting the door behind them. “Talk,” She said, pushing him to sit down on the futon and taking a seat right next to him.

Hitsugaya was quiet as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on bent knees. “There are some… doubts about my ability to become a captain,” He began. “Since Captain Shiba left, I thought I could be the next captain. He’d always say I was bound to be captain after him but… I never thought it’d be this soon.”

“He believed in you for a reason, Toshiro,” She said. “I’m sure he saw how your determination, intellect, and talents would do great things for the division. And between Shiba and Matsumoto, you’ve been captain in every capacity but in name.”

He scoffed and shook his head, “I don’t think I’ll become captain with administrative skills alone.”

“No, but you have mastered your bankai. That has to say something, right?”

Hitsugaya shrugged. “‘Mastered’ might be too strong a word,” He said. “I can use it for about eight minutes but after that…”

“That’s still more than most. I don’t even know my bank’s name.” She wasn’t getting through to him. She could see him curling further and further in on himself as his thoughts seemed to snowball. “Is this all because of what a couple people said?”

“A couple?” He scoffed, “Try just about everyone in the Soul Society. I’ve heard it all from ‘turning the 10th into a daycare’, to me ‘lying about having achieved my bankai’. Even members of my own division don’t want me as captain. How am I supposed to lead them, if they don’t want me?”

Hinamori scooted closer and wrapped her arms tightly around him like when they were kids. Normally, he’d just push her off and the fact that he didn’t spoke volumes to how much weight this exam was putting on him. She wished there was something she could do to get rid of everyones doubt about him because she believed so much in his ability, but she couldn’t. “Let’s go back to the 10th,” She said.

“Huh? But I thought you wanted to see the fireworks.”

She waved them off, “They’re just fireworks. And this is way more important.”

Rather than taking the long way back through roads that were now crowded, the two of them traveled by rooftop using shunpo to get there quickly. Making a quick stop at his quarters, he took his zanpakuto at her instruction before heading to the empty courtyard the division used for training. “What are we doing here?” He asked as she pushed him to stand in the middle of the yard before backing a good distance away and sitting down.

“Practicing your captain’s exam, of course,” She said.

“Huh?”

“You’re going to have three captains and the head captain you’ll have to demonstrate it to. So you’re going to pretend I’m the captains and show me what you can do.”

Hitsugaya’s face was vacant as he stared at her almost incredulous at the idea. “Do you even know how the exam works?” He knew of course but had been sworn to secrecy about the exam process.

“Nope. I’m just guessing.”

“This is ridiculous—“

“—No it’s not!”

“What if someone—“

“No one is here! They’re all at the fireworks.”

“But what about—“

“—Just show me already, Shiro!”

“Ugh! Fine,” He grumbled, drawing his zanpakuto. Looking at her across the yard, he suddenly felt a bit nervous having never shown anyone his bankai before. Taking a deep breath, he looked around to check that there was in fact no one around, before lowering himself into a fighting stance. “Bankai!”

The temperature dropped around them and ice crystalized across the yard as his reiatsu flowed evenly from his body. Ice formed across his shoulder into a pair of wings that spread wide, with a crystal tail at the base of the juncture where the two wings met and his legs and right arm were encased in ice. Hitsugaya stared across to the other end of the yard where Hinamori sat quietly taking it all in with a wide smile.

“Wow, you’re amazing, Shiro!” She said, standing and taking a few steps closer before stopping. “Um, can I come closer?”

He nodded and watched her smile broaden before she trotted over to him and circled around him. He felt her eyes on him and for the first time in a while didn’t mind the intensity of her stares. Maybe it was because she was one of the only ones to believe in him, or maybe it was just because it was her. Either way, he wouldn’t mind if she stared at him like that again.

Coming to stand back in front of him, she reached out and gently touched one of his wings. “It’s so cold,” she said.

“It’s ice, dummy,” He said with a roll of his eyes.

“It’s so amazing though.”

Overhead, the sound of the fireworks beginning drew both their attentions skyward. The bright colors illuminated the sky but from where they were they couldn’t see them. An idea popped into his head and he found himself speaking before properly thinking it through. “Um, you know these wings aren’t just for show. I actually can fly with them.” Hitsugaya felt his cheeks heat with the unspoken suggestion and turned his body sideways to avoid her laughter.

To his surprise, she took a sharp intake of breath and grabbed his shoulders. “We can watch the fireworks from the sky!” She said. Her excitement, too much for him to even consider denying.

Opening his arms, she gladly wrapped her arms about his neck and he held on tight to her before using his wings to thrust them skyward. She screamed at the sudden speed with which he took off and held on tighter before erupting into giggles as he reached a point in the sky where he was level with the fireworks taking place at the Fifth. He felt her head lean onto his shoulder as they watched and he felt himself smile. He paid the fireworks little attention, focused only on her, taking in her smile, her relaxed breaths, the small ‘ooh’s and ‘ahh’s she’d say after particularly interesting fireworks went off. Time faded into a single moment that he longed to stretch out as long as possible.

After the last of the fireworks had ended, Hitsugaya slowly brought them back to the ground and he released his bankai. “That was amazing, Shiro,” Hinamori said, hugging him tightly.

“I’ll say.”

The two friends broke apart and looked over to the entrance to see Captain Aizen standing there, his gentle smile easing them into a sense of calm.

“Captain Aizen! I thought you’d be at the party.” Hinamori said, torn between leaping to his side or staying at her friends side.

Aizen gently raised his hand in a calming gesture that made it clear there was nothing to worry about. “I was for awhile. But then I was wondering where my wonderful lieutenant who planned the whole thing had run off to.” He smiled as he walked closer to the two of them. “I wanted to thank you for all the effort you put into this day.”

Hinamori beamed under the praise and bowed respectfully to her superior. “It was nothing really. Everyone helped out. We all wanted to show our appreciation for you.”

Aizen placed his hand on her head affectionately, “Still, your passion and attention to detail are much appreciated by me personally.” He looked over to Hitsugaya and folded his hands in the sleeves of his shihakusho. “Third seat Hitsugaya.”

“Sir,” Hitsugaya bowed stiffly.

“Your bankai looks quite impressive.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Aizen leaned closer to him, “You know, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I’ll be one of the captains observing you at the exam.” He stood back to his full height. “I look forward to seeing what you can do, future Captain of the Tenth Division.” With one final nod at the two of them, he took his leave, walking leisurely away from the barracks.

Once he was out of sight, Hinamori grabbed him by the shoulders and squeezed him tightly. “See? Even Captain Aizen thinks you’ll do great!” She said, smiling and laughing with joy.

Hitusgaya felt himself smile as he wrapped his arms around her as well. His nerves were still there but the doubts in his head had quieted. He was going to become the captain of the Tenth Division. And no matter what anyone says, he’ll work hard to prove he is worthy of that title.