#no pairing

Being the youngest daughter of the family of mages you belonged to was quite important. You were expected to maintain the status your older brother had earned through great effort at Night Raven College, and in moments like this…

In moments like these, it was when [Y/n] wondered what she was going to do to remain at the academy and become a great sorceress like her brother was close to achieving—if she couldn’t even finish the stupid potion Professor Crewel had assigned as her final project.

She slammed her head against the desk, ignoring the fact that she had knocked over a bunch of spices, scattering them everywhere.

Was it hard? In theory, no. The professor had left the step-by-step instructions on the sheet now taped to the wall in front of her. And maybe she wouldn’t be in trouble now if she hadn’t spent the entire class doodling in her notebook and daydreaming about her husband from the last anime she watched.

She hit her head again. Her brother would kill her if he knew she was wasting time instead of paying attention.

"[Y/n], are you in there?"

And, as if it were a fanfic full of random stuff, a knock on the door echoed through the room, followed by the voice of the last person she wanted to see at that moment. Her older brother was at the door asking if she needed anything, since no one in his dorm had gotten a response from his sister all afternoon.

"I'm coming!"

Quickly and clumsily, she swept everything spilled on the desk into the trash can, including previous failed attempts she had left aside. Mixed perfectly in the hurried motions of a desperate girl trying to clean, she failed to notice one of the glass bottles breaking, cutting her finger and spilling blood.

The potion changed from green to purple the moment she hid the trash can behind the door.

Trying to steady her breath and wearing the least-fake smile she could manage, she opened the door. And honestly, everything could have gone well… but the randomly altered potion exploded at that exact moment, creating a smoke bomb that filled the room.

Both siblings began coughing as they scrambled to open the windows and door, and once the smoke cleared… there was nothing left but a girl who looked exactly like your older brother.

The next morning, both of them were in Professor Crewel’s office. Word of the incident had spread quickly, and the two… sisters? sat in front of his desk.

"Doing this was harder than your project, [Y/n]."

Professor Crewel spoke while inspecting the list of materials the poor girl had bought. "By mixing your blood, you managed to create a shapeshifting potion in the most rudimentary way… Such a good puppy!"

"But… will I be normal again?"

The girl’s eyes were full of tears as she looked at her brother—arms crossed—who hadn’t said a word.

"It’s temporary."

The professor spoke with pride; no other student had ever achieved something like this in his class. You would definitely be exempt from this school year. "You just have to wait until the effects wear off… Three days should be enough."

And with a nod, they left. Three days was less than you expected…

But long enough for a boy to fall hopelessly in love with your now older sister.

Riddle

♡ Your now older sister had caught the attention of a third-year boy from the Lion dorm. So now he trailed behind the two of you all day, threatening anyone who got close to his girl and her sister.

♡ You obviously couldn’t hold back your laughter when Riddle—now Rielle—turned into an angry tomato upon learning about such a stubborn boy. Even though the situation had been explained to him, he refused to believe it and refused to leave his love’s side… Another burst of laughter filled the classroom.

♡ Your brother reached his breaking point, a vein popping on his forehead since he couldn’t stand dealing with such behavior—and now had to endure the boy’s sweaty arm over his shoulders.

♡ "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!" And that was enough for the boy to back off from Rielle… well, that and the director personally calling him in after a talk with your brother.

♡ Now you had an even more overprotective older brother. He hadn’t realized how intense boys could be. Once he returned to normal, he planned to set strict parameters for anyone who dared try to date you in the future.

Malleus

♡ Your brother—now going by Mallory to avoid attention and embarrassment—hadn’t shown the slightest interest in the boy from the Underworld dorm. Not on purpose… He was simply a bit absentminded at times.

♡ It took a few hours before the boy gathered the courage to approach your brother, as he had fallen for Mallory’s serious expression and his horns… To which Malleus merely thanked him, turned elegantly, and walked away.

♡ You weren’t sure what happened, but it seemed to only make the boy fall harder. He found all your social media accounts and messaged you at midnight, wanting to know everything about you, sister, because no matter how much he searched, he couldn’t find anything about her. And that… scared you.

♡ Of course, you told Mallory, who calmly said to keep cool—he would handle it. No one scares his sister, and no one gets smart with his family.

♡ And that’s how Malleus not only broke a heart, but also traumatized the poor boy.

Silver

♡ Silvia… You all didn’t have much imagination for changing his name, honestly. But hey, at least it wouldn’t stand out.

♡ Either the students were really clueless, or they genuinely believed Lilia had adopted three children years ago—only the prettiest sister had been kept secret, or so claimed a Pomefiore boy who couldn’t stop gazing lovingly at Silvia from the moment Silver turned into a girl.

♡ As for your brother… Well, he didn’t care. He stayed in his own world, sleeping beside you. But you were very annoyed by that idiot constantly asking to join you under the school tree, trying to get Silvia to rest her head on his shoulder.

♡ You told Lilia, who giggled at first, but once he heard that his baby [Y/n] had been called the ugly sister, he went to have a very serious talk with that boy. No one talks to his chicks that way.

♡ And when Silver returned to normal… well, he was told what happened, since he hadn’t been aware of much.

Sealed away and thrown into Muken, there is nothing Aizen can do now to undo the damage. What he does have is time – plenty of it. His captors can be sure he will make good use of it.

Down under the First Division's barracks, at the bottom level of the Central Prison, nothing but silence surrounds him. No sound disturbs his meditation.

The black prisoner garb they made him wear is meant to weaken him, it leaches onto his body, eating at his reiatsu like a pesky parasite.

It doesn't matter, not with Aizen's enormous amount of spiritual power.

Bakudō spikes keep him in place, piercing his chest and burrowing into his soul with a burning heat. Urahara’s handiwork. It's a little painful, but nothing Aizen Sōsuke can't handle.

He is the god among the Shinigami after all, superior to any other being in every possible way.

The restraints around his arms and legs keep him immobilized, keep him hanging from the Muken's cross like a divine martyr. Each time he so much as twitches a finger, the bindings tighten around him, letting him know that there is no escape.

No way to get outside.

But there is always the opposite direction.

With his eyes closed beneath the seals, Aizen shuts himself off from the thick darkness around him, the sensation of restraints and bindings trapping his body, even his own thoughts and feelings. He dives into the depths of his soul – something he hasn't done in hundreds of years, but after his defeat it needs to be done – he has to understand, to refine himself, make himself flawless.

The cold brightness awaits him on the other side of the darkness, forcefully invading his stimulus-deprived eyes with the flash of light, causing him to squint. When he gets used to this light, he steps forward, heels clicking on the shiny surface.

The Hall of Mirrors.

The place is a huge, empty sphere made of countless mirrors. They cover every wall, every curve, under his feet, and above his head. As he walks toward the center, he can see thousands, if not millions of his own images reflecting back at him from every possible angle.

Right at the center stands a small, cylindrical column, no taller than a few feet.

Aizen reaches down to touch the top, his fingers brushing against the smooth reflective surface. As he presses down on the right spot, an invisible mechanism clicks in place.

With a quiet hiss, the lid slides to the side, revealing what's hidden inside the container.

A small glass-like orb, glowing blue and purple.

The Hōgyoku – a truly magnificent entity able to make gods and monsters.

The little thing rests innocently in his palm, relentlessly swirling an insane amount of pure energy.

The power that once was his. And it still can be.

He smiles to himself, a small, confident smile, as he closes his fingers around the wish-granting orb.

“Show me,” he commands, voice soft but decisive.

The Hōgyoku seems to obey him.

All the mirrors in the hall start to tremble slightly. Then, they slowly shift, light flickers inside them.

The space keeps changing before Aizen's eyes, morphing into something else. Soon, it's no longer the spherical chamber, but something entirely different.

Aizen stands in the middle of the well-maintained garden. The grass is soft and soothing under his bare feet. He can feel the coolness coming from the ground, not yet scorched by the summer sun. The crescent moon hangs above his head in the cloudless sky.

It's May – he can tell by the constellations visible from his spot, and by the picturesque sight of blooming white azaleas, and purple garlands of wisteria flowers cascading down from the heavy branches. He takes in the fresh, pleasant scent of the night air.

A perfect illusion, so intricate and detailed that Aizen can almost believe he is there, and not down in Muken.

“Interesting,” he muses, looking around. He knows that garden; it feels oddly nostalgic, like a long-forgotten memory coming back against his will.

“So this is where I want to be, how ironic…”

He looks down at his hands, the Hōgyoku has vanished from within his grasp, but his arms are free of restraints – no prisoner garb anymore. Instead, he is wearing his old black Shinigami uniform, and a white haori with the symbol of the Fifth Division.

“Good grief,” he sighs, smiling absentmindedly. The Hōgyoku is playing dirty tricks on him.

He takes a walk around the garden of his former division, just as he used to. It feels like ages have passed since he last did that, though in reality, he was still the captain less than five months ago. He strolls toward the small pond to admire the koi fish. Frogs are loud, as he expects them to be, croaking relentlessly for their future mates’ attention.

He has always enjoyed solitary midnight walks like that. It was when he pondered his grand plan, away from dull faces and the empty pleasantries of his subordinates.

The garden of the Fifth Division – Aizen finds it inspiring. To him, it is a prime example of how nature bends to the will of a skilled gardener, creating something intentionally beautiful.

He thinks himself a master gardener, and the rest of the world is nothing more than plants he can rearrange as he sees fit. What a waste of potential – locking him away, when he is the only one capable of reshaping this world.

Aizen's walk, and his train of thought, comes to an abrupt halt before he reaches the small bridge, leading across the pond.

He senses a presence before he spots her.

There she stands, midway through the arch of the red wooden bridge, gazing at the water. The gold, floral ornaments on her emerald-green kimono glitter in the moonlight, making her look noble.

Aizen cannot see her face, but he knows, he simply senses she is displeased with him, avoiding him on purpose.

Yet he tries to reach her.

“It's been a while,” he says in a calm voice, and with a gentle smile, as he approaches.

She turns her head toward him.

Her face is a mirror set in a golden frame, and as she looks at him, Aizen see only his own reflection.

“I swear to Chuck, Dean, I will turn this car around!” You shouted through the chaos of the van as it swerved. Dean, who had been attempting to shove an open PB&J into Cas’ hair, turned back to face the front of the van, shrinking into his seat.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, and you sighed, trying not to look over at him and focus on the road. Dean would have been driving if it wasn’t your little old Kombi that all of you had packed into. You weren’t sure how Dean had managed to scam his way into the passenger seat, but there he was, sitting next to you, with Jody, Sam, Cas, and Claire all in the back of the van. 

“Just… stop being a pest.” You muttered, feeling bad for making him feel bad. It was supposed to be a fun vacation, and you weren’t even at the beach yet, but you were already ruining it.

The van had fallen silent, the chatter and buzz previously filling the quiet now awkwardly gone. You sighed again. 

You reached over, pressing on the old sound system, praying that the music would make the silence less awkward. It spluttered to life, starting up the last CD you’d had in. You hadn’t driven your van in months, travelling instead with Sam and Dean in the Impala, your little old Kombi parked in the bunker gathering dust, and hadn’t used the sound system in even longer, listening to a podcast on your phone the last time you’d used your van, so you weren’t even sure what it would play.

A recognisable piano began to play from the speakers, and you grinned, turning the dial up. Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey spilled loudly from the speakers, causing Claire to let out a groan.

“Hey, this is a good song.” You defended, turning it up even louder. She groaned even louder over the song, and then the words started.

“Just a small town girl,” Jody started. “Living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere…”

You laughed, joining in. “Just a city boy, born and raised in South Detroit.”

Dean also began to sing as Claire covered her face with her hands. “He took the midnight train going anywhere…”

“Come on, you know you love it!” Dean exclaimed, pointing at Claire. “Take it away Sammy!”

“A singer in a smoky room. A smell of wine and cheap perfume!” The four of you sang, and Jody nudged Claire as Sam poked Cas. Cas startled, his eyes wide as he looked around the car. “For a smile they can share the night.”

“It goes on, and on, and on, and on!” You, Sam, Dean, and Jody all sang loudly. Cas was also singing, just softer, uncertain. Claire pulled her hands out of her face and rolled her eyes, but also began to sing.

“STRANGERS! WAITING! UP AND DOWN THE BOULEVARD!” All of you began to shout, singing as loud as you could. “THEIR SHADOWS SEARCHING IN THE NIIIIGHT!”

You smiled to yourself as the rest of the car kept singing, focusing on the road. Yeah, this vacation was going to go just fine.

tagslist -

“I swear to Chuck, Dean, I will turn this car around!” You shouted through the chaos of the van as it swerved. Dean, who had been attempting to shove an open PB&J into Cas’ hair, turned back to face the front of the van, shrinking into his seat.

“Sorry.” He mumbled, and you sighed, trying not to look over at him and focus on the road. Dean would have been driving if it wasn’t your little old Kombi that all of you had packed into. You weren’t sure how Dean had managed to scam his way into the passenger seat, but there he was, sitting next to you, with Jody, Sam, Cas, and Claire all in the back of the van. 

“Just… stop being a pest.” You muttered, feeling bad for making him feel bad. It was supposed to be a fun vacation, and you weren’t even at the beach yet, but you were already ruining it.

The van had fallen silent, the chatter and buzz previously filling the quiet now awkwardly gone. You sighed again. 

You reached over, pressing on the old sound system, praying that the music would make the silence less awkward. It spluttered to life, starting up the last CD you’d had in. You hadn’t driven your van in months, travelling instead with Sam and Dean in the Impala, your little old Kombi parked in the bunker gathering dust, and hadn’t used the sound system in even longer, listening to a podcast on your phone the last time you’d used your van, so you weren’t even sure what it would play.

A recognisable piano began to play from the speakers, and you grinned, turning the dial up. Don’t Stop Believin’ by Journey spilled loudly from the speakers, causing Claire to let out a groan.

“Hey, this is a good song.” You defended, turning it up even louder. She groaned even louder over the song, and then the words started.

“Just a small town girl,” Jody started. “Living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere…”

You laughed, joining in. “Just a city boy, born and raised in South Detroit.”

Dean also began to sing as Claire covered her face with her hands. “He took the midnight train going anywhere…”

“Come on, you know you love it!” Dean exclaimed, pointing at Claire. “Take it away Sammy!”

“A singer in a smoky room. A smell of wine and cheap perfume!” The four of you sang, and Jody nudged Claire as Sam poked Cas. Cas startled, his eyes wide as he looked around the car. “For a smile they can share the night.”

“It goes on, and on, and on, and on!” You, Sam, Dean, and Jody all sang loudly. Cas was also singing, just softer, uncertain. Claire pulled her hands out of her face and rolled her eyes, but also began to sing.

“STRANGERS! WAITING! UP AND DOWN THE BOULEVARD!” All of you began to shout, singing as loud as you could. “THEIR SHADOWS SEARCHING IN THE NIIIIGHT!”

You smiled to yourself as the rest of the car kept singing, focusing on the road. Yeah, this vacation was going to go just fine.