#major kira appreciation time

[slippery-domjot-balls]

Kira looked great in blue. I would love to see this uniform more often!

[rcdiostcrs]

carpenter bros reunion.

triggers: child abandonment, asph being a dick about sheamus being adopted (one line, but still)

Sheamus had been living in New Rome for about a year. Being surrounded by creatures his father told stories about and children of literal gods hadn’t even been the hard part of the year. Nor was the hard part being asked who his godly relation was only to explain that he was painfully human. The hard part was clinging to hope that Asph would one day cross the Little Tiber like so many other demigods who enter the city for the first time.

What would a fourteen-year-old version of his baby brother even look like? Would he still be swamped by fabric? Would he have grown lanky? Would he look like their mother or would he be unrecognizable? So much time had passed it was hard to even recall the seven-year-old’s face.

He was mid-conversation with his ex-guide and current best friend, Kira, when a commotion was heard outside.

“Someone new crossed. And it made a big splash,” she chugged the rest of her sparkling water (“You drink TV static?” Sheamus asked when she first ordered it. / “You don’t?” Kira responded, downing the glass in one go.) “Let’s go see, Mr. Hopeful.”

“I hate it when you call me that.” The mortal rolled his eyes before slamming back the last of his own drink—a much more sensible Coca-Cola—and following her.

By the time the pair had made it to the Little Tiber, the newbie had already crossed, receiving the cleansing. They collapsed, sending a pang through Sheamus. Curse his bleeding heart. When once he couldn’t care less about children, now there was a soft spot for them. A need to protect them from the horrors of the world. Too many had been through too much. Especially the demigods.

His eyes caught hair that was just-shy of a light brown. The pang worsened. That was his brother’s hair color. When the kid shook the water off, his eyes landed on a scar peaking out from their ear. While not one he remembered his brother having, there was the near-miss in the ER. (“This ID isn't valid, I can’t let you in.” / “Don’t tell anyone, I could lose my job, but he’s doing quite well for someone who took a lawn mower to the side of his head. Now leave.”)

“Hey, they look about the right age.” Kira’s voice was drowned out by the waves of regret. Sheamus had only been a teenager, unable to do anything, but he still felt that he had abandoned his sweet baby brother all those years ago. Was now the time to make it right?

~~

Asph had finally settled into the barracks when his new centurion joined him. “You are requested in the Fifth’s Meeting Hall.”

“The… where?”

They grabbed his wrist and marched out the door, dragging him with. They only let go upon arriving at said meeting hall. “Newbie’s here,” they shouted into the door as they shoved him in.

He regained his balance and stood straight up, hands behind his back. “I was told you needed to speak with me?”

“Damn, you look so much like him for not being blood,” a woman said. She was flicking a coin back and forth.

Instead of speaking, Asph tilted his head. What was she on about?

“Kira, you’re going to freak him out.” A man in his early twenties spoke up from right next to her.

Wait. Dressed only in blacks. Triangular head. Brown eyes. He was older than last seen, but it was clearly “Sheamus?”

“Seven years. Two of which I was stuck at home. Four of which I spent searching. The final one, I spent here. Waiting. Hoping.”

Asph’s confusion grew. “Why would you do that? It wasn’t like we were friends or anything. We aren’t even really related.”

Sheamus stepped back. “I may not have been the best at first, but you disappearing was the worst thing to ever happen to me.” He had wallowed for years, changed schools, leaving D.C. as soon as he could.

“You were such a sweet kid. What happened?”

“I was abandoned!” he exclaimed. “Without any explanation! That’s what happened.” Asph stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

[recurring-polynya]

Izakaya Kamenoya, part 3

It's been so long, and I kept getting busy with stuff, but rest assured, I have not stopped thinking about every shinigami's favorite watering hole, Izakaya Kamenoya, for even one second of that time, and today I am going to talk about what's really important: what kind of booze can you get there.

The multiplicity of drink options is honestly the thing I really love about Kamenoya. On a meta level, someone has to draw all this stuff, like, with their hands. I have no idea, actually, if the animators consider this sort of thing a break from all the powering up and sword fights and rolling across cave floors, or if they consider a Trip to the Bar to be really tedious. My point is, they very well could have just always drawn people drinking out of the same cups, except they didn't, they drew a series of loving close ups of sake-pouring and a variety of drinkware styles. On a more Watsonian level, I just like the idea that, like Alice's Restaurant, you can get anything you want at Izakaya Kamenoya. So let's get into it!

I think the thing that really made me notice this was this scene from the Amagai Arc, where you see Kira doing mokkiri, or overpouring his sake. (At least I think that's what he's doing. The articles I read sounded more like the server is supposed to do it, which emphasizes the establishment's generosity, so maybe Kira is just being a messy drunk. I'm pretty sure you're also not supposed to pour yourself sake, you're supposed to do it for your tablemates)

Often, mokkiri is done into a masu, which is a small square box that was used as a standard measure for rice. You can see Nanao drinking out of one here!

What kind of cup to drink your sake out of is a huge topic, but basically, it depends on the flavor and characteristics of the sake. The fact that Kira and the Lads are drinking out of clear glasses might imply that they're drinking chilled, summer-style sake (or possibly trying to appreciate the clarity of the vintage, as if this is what you call up Iba and Renji to go to the pub for).

I am not an expert, so I'm not going to attempt to identify exactly what these different cups would be classified as, but you can see a variety of shapes, sizes and materials.

I found less information on different shapes of tokkuri (that's the slightly bigger bottle that you serve from), but those come in a variety, as well. Mostly, they have either the large, oval-shaped jugs you can see in the first picture, or the more slender white ones in the second. I am really fond of these tall boys that Kira and Hisagi have, which seem to have straighter sides than the other kind, kind of like a milk bottle.

While we're looking at that picture, there's an ad on the wall for beer. Beer!

In modern times, beer is actually the most popular alcoholic beverage in Japan, which Wikipedia tells me came about after WWII because of restrictions on the use of rice. They've had beer since the Edo era, though, and many of today's major breweries got started in the late 1800s. I love the idea that beer is a thing you can get in Soul Society, but it's clear that it has not overcome sake in popularity the way it did in the World of the Living--which makes sense, because of they never had those restrictions. (In other words, throw this in the bucket of stuff like tattoos and attitudes toward homosexuality that I think diverged from the Living World because of weird quirks of history).

In fact, Kamenoya apparently imports beer from the World of Living (maybe it also has local brews as well).

Look how lovingly that bottle of Kirin is drawn. 😂 The fact that it's shown in a glass mug in the ad, but served in a Pilsner glass here supports the idea that there are multiple kinds of beer available. Now, I believe that Kirin Zero is non-alcoholic. It's surprisingly hard to do research on beer labels from 20 years ago. I couldn't find a label that looked exactly like that, and Kirin's non-alcoholic offering seems to be called Kirin Free now (Kirin Zero is now zero-carb and I couldn't figure out if it's alcoholic or not). In any case, I am choosing in my heart to believe that this is because of weird TV censorship and in no way implies that Rukia is not one of the champion drinkers of the Gotei-13.

Don't get me wrong! I love a bar that offers non-alcoholic options! You can also get tea at Kamenoya, which you can see Tobiume and Okyō drinking below; Momo has some as well (they also have a discussion about it)

earlier posts in this series: (part 1) (part 2)

[anarchic-miscellany]

Gundam SEED: A Dubbing Journey

More fun physical media tales! "Gundam SEED"

It's not the best Gundam series, but it's good fun and the first iteration of "Gundam" which I watched. Hence I have a sense of nostalgia for it, despite its flaws (looking at you 48 episode length...).

Anime is already a fairly niche field, despite the hilarious jokes and mainstream creep us filthy degenerates are making into modern society. The age old "debate" I guess, between those of us who have never seen the sun, seems to be between watching in the original language with subtitles, or watching it dubbed.

My personal thoughts go towards the dub. Aside from the fact that there are dozens and dozens of brilliant actors in this field who make the material fantastic and more accessible (Tara Platt, Yuri Lowenthal, Colleen Clinkenbeard, my homie Kirk Thornton, Steve Blum, Michelle Ruff, Wendee Lee, Kari Wahlgren, Todd Haberkon, Joel McDonald, so, so, so, so many others) to simply ignore the dub through snobbery is to disregard the hours and hours of effort and work put in by hard working, under-appreciated actors across the field. Voice actors are my jam.

So, "Gundam SEED" came out in 2002/2003 but was dubbed by the Ocean Group with Bandai in 2004, released by Beez on DVD. It's a good dub: No "Baccano!" or "Cowboy Bebop" but then again, what is? There are some great actors in this (Andrew Drummond's brother Brian plays the best character: Andrew Waltfeld THE DESERT TIGER, Lisa Ann Beley is the ship's captain, Trevor Devall from "Cowboy Bebop" and "Team America" as Mu La Flaga, Samuel Vincent as one of the two leads and, for some god-damned reason Brad "Light Yagami" Swaile as one of the best characters) as well as some lesser known names in the industry but also great in their parts. Chantal Strand is a standout as Lacus Clyne.

The dub was an excellent work, and my first exposure to the series, it's great.

The series was released on DVD, but had a rather short run: the always excellent Beez released it in the ever delightful format of five episodes per disc and one disc per box, their usual M.O.

I am going somewhere with this, bear with me.

So far so good.

In 2014 the series was re-released in HD, fine. Excellent! More of Beez's back catalogue coming out again and to the forefront is always a good thing.

However.

The dub was redone.

The actors, for the most part, were completely replaced from the top down. Gone were Matt Hill and Samuel Vincent as Kira and Athrun, gone were Drummond and Swaile. Everybody has been changed, right down to the lesser known actors playing some major parts in the series.

And they are the people who I want to talk about.

Bill Switzer, Sarah Johns and Lisa Ann Beley are not ever going to be household names, nor ever known truly amongst the clique-like cult who follow weaboo shit. But I am going to focus on these three people for a moment.

Respectively, in the Ocean Dub, they play Sai Argyle, Lt. Badgiruel and Captain Murrue Ramius, all fairly major characters in the series.

And they were replaced.

Bye, so long, farewell, hope that you got something out of the experience.

This isn't about rambling about how "the new dub sucks" or "Grrrr, change is bad" (well, maybe the latter a little) because, in all honesty, I haven't watched it. Heck, maybe it's fantastic!

But on a more philosophical level, I guess, consider this:

Mr Switzer, Ms Johns and Ms Beley have put a lot of work, time and effort into those parts, they're actors underappreciated, underpaid and glossed over in an already niche field, and then the one big piece of art they get to do, the one big part they have to be remembered and loved, is forgotten, soon to be washed away by the new dub. Sounds dramatic, sure, but now in future should Gundam SEED be sought out by people hoping to catch up on Gundam (though, why you'd start with "Gundam SEED" like a moron when the fantabulously gay "Gundam Wing" exists I shall never know) or just picked up and watched it's more likely that one will watch the remastered dub, and Mr Switzer and co will be banished and forgotten by history.

I guess what I wanted to say was simple:

Remember forgotten art, remember obscure actors, writers, producers and the like. All art has meaning, be it terrible, great or forgotten. Every piece of art has effort and love put into it by some people.

Don't let Bill Switzer and Sarah Johns and Lisa Ann Beley be mere forgotten footnotes.

Buy a DVD of something obscure and forgotten. Remember the effort put into it.

[elisela]

January OTP Prompts:

Old bookstore on a cold day for Sterek

Happy New Year! 🤍

mountain man sterek, bookshop au, fluff

“Mountain man is here,” Scott whispers in his ear, hands gripping Stiles’ shoulders as he carefully moves behind him in the narrow space. “Biographies.”

Stiles nods and glances around the small cafe space. The tables are occupied, but no one looks like they’re about to need a second cup, so he feels free to announce, “Just going to go get a new bag from the back,” to Kira, despite having just done that no more than thirty minutes ago.

But Scott must have also said something to Kira because she just nods with a grin, and Stiles leaves the counter before fate can intervene. And if he can just see into the history section from the very edge of the double doors that lead into their dismal excuse for a kitchen, that’s no one’s business but his own.

He stays there until Mountain Man leaves the shop.

---

Mountain Man is an enigma. Stiles had been certain, the first time he’d walked up to his counter, that he was going to be gruff and rude, like the assholes from the bank across the street that treat the small space like their personal conference room and bark out orders without any regard to the fact an actual person was taking them. But his eyes—which are so beautiful that Stiles wrote four atrocious poems about them in his Intro to Poetry class—had been kind, and when he’d given his order he’d said please twice, and Stiles had fallen head over heels.

In fact, the majority of Stiles’ assumptions about him have been proven incorrect, so he supposes that out of the two of them, he’s likely the rude one. He’d figured Mountain Man was there for the coffee, only to be surprised when he caught a glimpse of the man at the registers an hour later with a stack of books in his hands. His assumption that he was only getting the latest quickly read and easily digestible thrillers was shown to be wrong when Kira spotted him buying classics the next month, and then Stiles stopped assuming anything about him at all.

Except, of course, for the fact that he lives up in the mountains that surround their small little college town (the boots and beard give that away), works with his hands for a living (always calloused), is somewhere in his late thirties (laugh lines around his eyes, silver beginning to streak through his beard) and has no significant other—though that last one might just be wishful thinking.

----

“Stiles, could you go see if Allison can trade us for some ones?” 

He takes the twenty dollar bill from Kira and steps out from behind the counter. The store’s been dead all day, he’s pretty sure there are still a stack of ones sitting in the register. “You’re not fooling me,” he says, and she grins back at him.

“Who said I was trying to?”

Allison’s up at the front register, leaning her elbows on the counter and texting, phone in front of her face. It’s an act that would get the rest of them written up, but Allison’s clearly fine with taking advantage of the fact that her parents own the store and Stiles can’t really fault her for that. If his dad were running it he’d probably delight in kicking people out the moment they asked if someone could help them find a book with a yellow cover.

And in front of Allison, browsing the small section of puzzle books and journals, is Mountain Man.

“Hey hey, boss lady,” he says. There’s no way to angle himself to keep Mountain Man in view, but if he bends over enough he can sort of see his reflection in the poster-covered glass windows.

She sets her phone down and grins at him, snatching the bill out of his hand. “Hello yourself, coffee boy. No token of your appreciation this time?”

“Kira’s making it as we speak,” he says, and she shakes her head when he uses his in-store radio to quietly order it. “But if you could be so kind in the meantime—”

“You’re such a dork,” she says fondly, pushing a stack of dollar bills into his hand. “Go get my coffee, I’m practically asleep up here. I told Dad no one would come in today, there’s three feet of snow on the ground.”

“Maybe someone could convince him to close early,” he says, walking backwards out of the section. His gaze strays to Mountain Man and when their eyes meet, his heart starts beating double-time. He glances down at the books in his hands—a few that Stiles recognizes from the YA section, even more from the display of queer novels that Allison had set up for Valentine’s day. “Good selection,” he says, “Red, White, and Royal Blue was good,” and spins around in his haste to get back to the cafe.

Kira’s holding a cup in her hand, but pulls it back towards her when he flings himself over the counter. “What?”

He needs water. Or to plunge himself into a snowbank to cool his overheated face. “Please remind me that straight guys read gay love stories too so I don’t go do something reckless.”

“That hasn’t been my experience at all,” Kira says cheerfully, pushing him upright and handing the cup over. “Go get his name, at least.”

Mountain Man is gone by the time Stiles gets back up there. 

---

He stashed his marker somewhere. He knows he did, he always has it to write the orders on the cups, and most of the time he puts it back in his apron pocket—except when his pockets are full of the bags of espresso beans he was supposed to restock before the swarm of banker bros took over the place. He’d taken their orders, empties his pockets, and then promptly spent the last five minutes looking for his marker, which seems to have grown legs and walked off on its own.

A throat clears above him when he’s crouched down checking the overflow shelves under the register for the third time unsuccessfully, and admitting defeat, he straightens up.

Mountain Man is in front of him. 

“Hey,” he says, instead of welcome to Argent Books like he’s supposed to. “Whatcha havin’?”

“Medium vanilla latte, oatmilk, please,” Mountain Man says. He hands over cash, much to Stiles’ continuing dismay, because it would so much easier to get his name from a card, but doesn’t leave when Stiles calls the order to Kira and slides a cup along the counter. He just stands there, look of discomfort on his face, until he says, “Did you really like that book?”

Stiles raises an eyebrow.

“The, uh—Red, White, and Royal Blue,” Mountain Man says. “Did you really like it?”

“Yeah,” he says, and then, “well, no, it’s not really my thing, but everyone else liked it. I haven’t actually read it, I started the first chapter but I wasn’t in the mood for any kind of coming of age story and the romance—maybe if it were like, a gay detective novel, that shit would be cool. Or sci-fi—have you read This is How You Lose the Time War? That was good.”

He’s about ready to fling himself into the dumpster out back when Kira appears at his side, handing the cup over with a grin and Mountain Man, clearly sensing an opportunity to get away from Stiles, thanks them and walks away.

“Why don’t you go take inventory in the back until you don’t look like a tomato,” Kira says kindly, patting his flaming cheek, and he doesn’t need to be told twice.

The afternoon picks up and although Stiles doesn’t forget about the awkward encounter, he at least puts it out of his mind—until his phone buzzes in his apron pocket and he picks it up, expecting a text from Scott or his Dad, and promptly drops it straight onto the floor.

“Oh,” Kira says, peering around his shoulder at the picture of This is How You Lose the Time War laying on a couch, folded flannel blanket underneath. “Did I tell you I gave Mountain Man your number? I wrote it on the cup—you were never going to get around to it!” she says, whacking his arm. “And I’ll take your gratitude any day now, he’s clearly interested in talking to you, though sometimes I can’t imagine why.”

He only spends a minute hyperventilating before leaving the cafe area, snatching a familiar pink book off a display table, and taking a picture in return. Thought I’d give this another try, he writes under it, and follows it up with maybe we could meet up for coffee and talk about them.

He presses send before he can think about it, and breaks into a grin when the reply comes back quickly.

I’d like that.

He’ll worry about getting Mountain Man’s name some other time. 

[jjba-smash-or-pass]

Who are your top 5 favorite JoJo characters and why? Who are your least favorite characters?

Alright I'm gonna go into more detail because I love talking about characters <3

1: Foo Fighters. Like I've said before, Kakyoin and them have some similar motifs, namely the motifs of feeling othered from the world and not really having friends until they become a part of the main Jojo group of their respective parts. As a (probably) autistic person and a (definitely) ADHD person, I heavily relate to this message, as I never really feel like I belong unless I'm with my tight-knit friend group. What I like better about FF, though, is that this "otherness" is a key aspect of their personality and characterization, instead of being shoehorned in right before their screen time ends. That, and their overall personality is just more fun. Also nonbinary representation is always cool in my book.

2: Josuke Higashikata. He's the manifestation of my favorite things about Jojo all put into one character. He's got a snazzy outfit. He can switch from silly to serious at a moment's notice. But most importantly, he has a heart of gold and won't stop fighting for peace. The fact that he's a former fictional crush of mine definitely kicks him up a few places as well.

3: Yoshikage Kira. I know I said Josuke includes all of my favorite things about Jojo, but Kira is a manifestation of all the minor things I love about Jojo. He "looks normal" in canon but wears a Bright Purple Outfit. He has really unique dialogue. He's insanely smart. And, of course, he's a needlessly cruel villain. Araki seems to love creating villains that like to kick puppies for fun, and I love seeing them in his work. The funniest part is that Kira would actually just be a normal guy, if not for his urge to kill women. There's a lot of other things about his character I like, but none major enough to mention here.

4: Jolyne Cujoh. I really appreciated seeing her character growth throughout the story of Stone Ocean! Jolyne, like Josuke, has a lot of that fighting spirit and willpower, but instead of fighting for the sake of others (although she definitely does that don't get me wrong), her story is about fighting for the sake of herself. She's been through a lot. She grew up without a father figure. And now, she's stuck in prison for a crime she didn't commit. Her story is about fighting for her own future, fighting to make amends with her father, fighting to free herself and her soul. And in the end, it was her decisions that ended up defeating Pucci.

5: Danny. The bestest boy. Little ouppy. He deserved better.

okay but really my number 5 pick is Iggy. He's a dog who gives absolutely zero shits about humans unless they're giving him coffee gum. But underneath that shittiness is a tenacity that's almost human-like. He reminds me of my own dog, in a way. She's a grumpy old lady who doesn't listen to a word you say unless there's food involved, and she refuses to die. Seriously, she's gotten her little paws on SO much chocolate during her lifespan, and she's had to take a medicine that was supposed to give her leukemia years ago.

And for the sake of not making this any longer than it needs to be, I'll just list my least favorite character from the main cast and then overall.

My least favorite Jojo character from the main cast is Giorno. I feel like there's a lot of missed potential with his character. This is a 15-year-old boy who has both Joestar and Brando blood. There was so much Araki could have done with Giorno that he didn't, and instead created a character with very little personality who was supposed to be the driving force of his part. I think he's part of the reason Golden Wind is one of the most forgettable parts to me.

My least favorite Jojo character overall is Forever the orangutan. His Stand fight could have been really interesting but instead we got a child's bare ass on screen because Forever was a creep. I actually watched the Jojo OVA from the 2000's, and they cut Anne's character out entirely but keep the Strength fight. Because Anne wasn't there they altered how some of the events went down and honestly? It was super cool. I liked it a lot more. And do keep in mind that I don't think Araki was trying to write this as a sexy thing. I do think he was trying to incorporate shock factor though so it's still not very redeemable.

[empressofthewind]

5. Fear

18. Family

For Near and Mello please

Thank you!!

#5 Fear - Near

This is probably a really strange-sounding headcanon, but I think Near fears being alone. As much as I think he values his alone time and does not appreciate too many disturbances, he’s always had people around in some capacity - whether that’s the staff and other students at Wammy’s House or the members of the SPK - and even when he started living alone after the Kira Case, he would’ve had Rester and Lidner (at the very least) checking on him regularly both in person and via phone call, and Roger to speak to about case-related matters. The thing about Near is that despite being very intelligent and mentally pretty strong, he has a lot on his plate, and there are many things he simply cannot do for himself. He needs other people around him in order to work most effectively. I think he’s very aware that gradually over time, he will have to become more and more self-reliant, and he’s afraid that eventually he won’t have anyone left to call when he can’t handle it.

#5 Fear - Mello

Much like Near, all of his major fears would be existential, and imo one of the biggest among them would be obscurity. He has grown up working his ass off to achieve his goals and still never being good enough, and over and above his desire to win, I think he really just wants to be noticed. He wants his talents and his hard work to be recognised, especially by Near. Walking into the SPK HQ and feeling like a tool in Near’s investigation was already bad enough, but if he walked in there and Near was like “who the hell are you?” I think that would’ve broken him 😭 he’s afraid of forever being inadequate and continuing to put in so much work that never amounts to anything. I suppose some of this ties into a fear of being alone, but it’s more about having no one who cares about him or believes in him, even if he’s around people, whereas for Near it’s to do with total isolation.

#18 Family - Near

I honestly waver a LOT on my headcanons for Near’s family and I don’t really have one consistent story in mind, but for the most part, I tend to think he was abandoned as a kid. I also generally think he has (or had) siblings.

#18 Family - Mello

Mello never knew his dad and was raised by his mum until he was six. I imagine he can very vaguely remember her but has no physical memorabilia. I also think she was Catholic, as was Wammy’s House, and while I don’t think he’s necessarily a devout Catholic himself, he still holds onto his faith because it’s one of the only things that connects him to her.

For this ask game :-)

[pinievsev]

🩷 omgomg i just had this epic idea (that simultaneously retains to my personal life in a way)- so i know that beomgyu won’t win for the body guard AU (it’s inevitable) even though i really really want Gyu to win… it’s ok so i have another idea.

🩷 hear me out- y/n just had a major falling out with their two closest bestest friends and beomgyu tries his best to comfort them. y/n dosent show this side of them ever and it’s the first time gyu has seen this with such deep rooted heartbreak.

… i really just need smthn to cry to rn 🤷‍♀️

AMICA

CHOI BEOMGYU X GN!READER

Angst to fluff! (My favourite 😤)

The names "Kira" and "Mina" are the most basic names I could think of for reader's friends. Don't come for me they're not what we're here for 😋

Warnings: Angst? If anyone has a problem with that, Awkward gyu, crying?, Maybe some spelling mistakes which btw, feel free to call me out on. (Please.) Also it's pretty short? I wrote half of it at 3am and the other half at school- 🥹

Amica: friend in Latin because I'm the king of titles.

As always requests are open and my masterlist is pinned to my blog! Without further ado, Les gooo!

{taglist: @laskyy }

You only ever had three close friends, well one now, Kira, Mina and Gyu. You had known Beomgyu since middle school and had met Kira and Mina in highschool, even tho gyu went to another one, you still kept contact and lived in the same area.

You had had a crush on gyu for maybe a year now, pretty recent considering how long you've known eachother for, and both girls knew it, so why the hell would they accuse you of trying to steal Kira's crush was still a mystery. Maybe they just didn't want to be your friends anymore and tried to get rid of you without you knowing? Not sure.

All you knew was that both had blocked you on all social media as well as your number so you decided it wasn't worth your time and energy trying to fix. You and them have been getting distant lately anyways, so what's the point?

What hurt you most was that they had made a complete fool of you in the middle of the park, yelling about how bad of a friend you were, calling you all sorts of things, a backstabber being one of them.

It wasn't worth it, so why did it hurt this much.

You bolted down the road and to your apartment block with tears in your eyes, failing to notice and hear a shouting gyu, trying to get your attention from across the street.

You slammed your door shut and kicked off your shoes, basically diving into your couch and sobbing. It shouldn't hurt this much. Your crying only lasted a couple minutes though. A frantic knock on your door alerting you. You hoped and begged and prayed that it wasn't them. Taking slow steps towards the door.

"Y/n? Hello?!" You let out a breath you hadn't realised you were holding at the sound of Beomgyu's voice, you opened the door and let him inside, rubbing your eyes with the back of your sleeve.

"What happened to you?" He asked looking at you with almost worry. You've never cried Infront of him, and you weren't planning to, until this moment. A couple of seconds was all it took for you to break down and start sobbing again, causing his eyes to go wide "Whoa whoa whoa! Hey uh, here come on"

He was speaking quickly and fumbling over his words as he led you back to your couch placing the bag he had with him on the small coffee table, he sat down next to you.

He rubbed soothing circles on your back, shushing you. He was never really one to comfort people, but he was trying his best and you appreciated that.

You rubbed your eyes once again, apologising "sorry- sorry. I don't know why I broke down there" you sniffled, eyes red and puffy already. "Don't apologise. Do you uh want to talk about it?" You shook your head and he only nodded in response standing up.

"wait here." He said rushing off to your bedroom and returning with a heavy gray and white blanket, your favourite one.

He gently placed it over you, he might not be good with words, but he was the best with actions. He picke dup the plastic bag he had placed on your table and walked to your kitchen "I'll be right there!" You heard him call before you could even question him.

A couple of minutes later, again, he returned with two bowls of ramen for the both of you, placing them down. He sat on the couch, Criss cross next to you, pulling the blanket over both of your shoulders. He reached out and handed you your bowl then grabbing his. "if you don't want to talk. We'll just eat" he said taking a hold of the remote and turning on the TV, playing some random movie neither of you were interested in.

As you ate, you could feel him turning to check up on you every now and then. And once you had finished you put your bowl down and leaned your head onto his shoulder, closing your eyes "you're the best friend Gyu... You know that?" You spoke quietly.

As much as he tried, he could not deny his feelings for you, the way he hated seeing you sad, the way his heart dropped to his stomach as soon as you started crying and the way his heart fluttered but at the same time shriveled up at your words just seconds ago.

But what if you didn't like him that way? What if you were crying over a boy? He couldn't risk loosing you.

You opened your eyes when you didn't get a response from him, looking up at him. He was already looking at you, his eyes switching from your eyes to your lips making your stomach do flips.

You stared at eachother for a few more seconds before he leaned in, brushing his lips over yours ever so slightly, testing the waters.

When you hummed in delight at the feeling he was assured, rushing to completely wrap you both in the giant blanket before leaning in again, kissing you quickly yet softly. You wrapped your arms around his middle as you pulled apart.

His eyes scanned your face for any signs of regret but once he found none he grinned widely "am I still the best friend?" He asked jokingly "nope. You're just the best" you said kissing his cheek and hugging him close. The reason for your sadness now long forgotten under the cozy blanket and the adorable pecks he left all over your face mixed with your laughter.

[midsummer-afternoon]

꧁Kyosuke Higuchi Analysis꧂

This is an analysis about Kyosuke Higuchi, the 3rd Kira we are introduced to in the Death Note series. I’d like to make it clear from the start that this is not a post to condemn him or justify his actions—the main idea is to better understand his motives and who he is as a person by analyzing the things he says and does. Understanding Higuchi provides striking insight into other characters and the story as a whole.

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧

Okay, I should mention from the start that I will not be analyzing every single scene Higuchi is in, that will be too time-consuming and not really necessary. Instead, I've handpicked the ones I believe are most important to offer perception into who he is. The majority of this analysis will focus on the manga, because the anime does not cover as much detail about Yotsuba and some outside sources.

Higuchi makes his debut in Volume 5, Chapter 36. His features were probably obscured because we're not supposed to know which one of the Yostuba men were Kira yet. But can we just appreciate how funny (in an inappropriate way) this looks?? He's literally got the classic bad guy appearance being this figure in a dark room doing evil deeds. Also, I apologize that the manga caps have to be in Japanese, it's the only version available to me at this moment. However, I will provide translations and explanations.

So, just to summarize what's going on in the first two scenes, it's when Rem approached Higuchi. He's seems to be asking Rem to be precise that he can freely use the death note as long as he kills the criminals broadcasted on tv and she agrees. In the second cap, Higuchi says something along the lines of "This is a good trading business for both Rem and me."

From these first two scenes, we know Rem chose Higuchi to be the person to continue the Kira killings and use the death note selfishly as Light requested. We see Higuchi performs these killings without second thought or remorse, in fact, he's quite content with the circumstances going as far as to call this a "good trading business." We understand from the Yotsuba arc as a whole that Higuchi did not only target criminals but important figures in the business world for personal advantages. We can pick up from this that Higuchi is cruel, greedy, and has little to no respect for human life. He values attaining wealth and power to the extent he doesn't mind killing people who have done him no wrong. We get further insight to his motivations through things Light, Namikawa, and Mido will say, but more information on that later.

I'd like to bring up Halle Lidner here because during the time Higuchi takes over as Kira, he kills Halle's friend which eventually leads to her joining the SPK. This gives us some potential clues about Halle as a person too...Was Halle's friend an important figure in the business world? Was he or she Japanese because Higuchi's in Japan and the majority of his victims probably were? Personally, I believe Halle has connections to Japan. This could explain why Halle understands the language and seems to function well as Kiyomi's bodyguard. This allows us to come up with our own interpretations for her past that are not without basis. Alright, back to Higuchi.

The next scenes I've included are one of Yotsuba's meetings where the men speculate one of them must be Kira or have a connection to Kira because last week and the week before that, the murders decided in the meetings came true. Takahashi questions why did Kira start taking on murders like this instead of just judging bad guys? And we see here, Higuchi essentially tells him that Kira's doing this because it benefits Kira and calls Takahashi a fool. With this little scene we can pick up that Higuchi has no problem with being rude to people but this is perhaps one of his lesser bad qualities when you consider this is a man who kills for benefits and without remorse. Another factor to keep in mind is in a future scene Mido explains that Higuchi only forced Takahashi to join the Meetings of Death because he was considered less sophisticated than Higuchi and Higuchi needs someone like that to make himself look and feel better. So, it's fair to say Higuchi's an insecure person.

Here are some screenshots I took of Higuchi's page on the English Death Note Wiki. We're given a little background info about him which I'm going to try to use to gain better understanding about his history. My initial thought before I checked this was that Higuchi rose to a high position within Yostuba through underhanded tactics and/or he happened to have a connection. We get to see here that Higuchi does in fact have a connection through his father who's the president of Yotsuba Heavy Industrial. It seems Higuchi was probably able to become the Head of Technology Development through this connection and his abilities, I guess. Despite we know that Higuchi tends to be considered one of the less intelligent and less capable folk, he can't be completely incapable in the brains department since he does have 6/10 in his Knowledge Stats.

Now I want to talk a little bit about this scene, when Hatori fearing the potential reality of ending up in jail says he wants out of the meetings, to this, Higuchi assures Hatori he'll be dead by tomorrow with a creepy smile on his face. Let's face it, the other Yotsuba men probably figured out Higuchi was Kira right here, because he's able to say this with such confidence. This scene reiterates Higuchi's cruelty and lack of respect for human life.

So, this is at scene when Namikawa makes the point about how Kira desires status to which Higuchi claims that's 「くだらねー」 which translates to "crap" in Google Translate but in this context, it probably means something along the lines of "how stupid/dumb." This is important because Mido does make a point about this later...which you will find out when we get there. 😁

And now we have a scene with Shingo Mido's look alike Light Yagami (or is it the other way around? I mean, Mido is older than Light, but Light is the MC of this story...) Sorry for the lame joke lol. But anyways, I want to show these two manga caps where Light notices the difference between the Kira killings from before and after he was confined. When Light was Kira, Kira did not kill criminals who had no intention of killing, those who accidentally killed someone and those who had room for extenuating circumstances. To put it simply, Higuchi kills criminals without taking into account if the criminal really deserves to be punished...I hope I explained that well?

Next, I want to discuss the episode where Misa goes on a date with Higuchi to trick him into revealing he's Kira to help Light return to power. At first, I will admit, I thought Higuchi's actions didn't make too much sense and it was a plot device for the most part. But looking at this from the perspective of somebody who's not supposed to be one of the great brains of the series and taking into account having the death note made Higuchi blinded by power it's more believable that he would start to get careless and make mistakes like this. Also, it has to be kept in mind Higuchi has no idea Misa's in love with somebody else and he probably thought Misa might marry him to be something like an arm trophy wife. Something else I would like to point out is how this scene was slightly altered in the anime. In the manga, we just have Higuchi getting into Misa's face at his most aggressive, whereas in the anime, Higuchi physically took her down and towered over. It almost looks like he is about to r*pe her, thankfully, he does not. But I think it is quite a significant difference, perhaps he's even more of an aggressive pervert in the anime than he was in the manga. Personally, I don't like this change because if Higuchi was not depicted in the style of an almost potential rapist in the manga that should not be so in the anime as well.

Here's another scene we're shown how the Yostuba men in particular Mido and Namikawa (though it's probably reasonable to say Shimura as well) have figured out Kira is Higuchi. In this scene, Mido, Light Yagami's Yostuba counterpart, makes a point about how Higuchi needed Takahashi to make himself look better and of the group Higuchi is the one most obsessed with status. The way he talks about how status doesn't matter to him shows how much the opposite is the truth. Namikawa goes on to talk about how Higuchi makes fun of people but can't use them well and it's caused him to be demoted in the past. Now, one could dismiss these comments as Higuchi's colleagues badmouthing him because they dislike him but I'm inclined to believe this is all true because Higuchi's actions have proven all of this. It also brings us back to the point that Higuchi is not one of the more capable characters in this series.

This is another scene that proves Higuchi's lust for power and status. He's gleefully declaring that he now has the Shinigami eyes because he has stopped the Kira killings for 3 days like Misa requested so that she will marry him. He goes on to say he's going to tell the president (of the company) let's just say "CEO" because I'm about 99% sure this is what he means, that he is Kira, he's going to first get a promotion, then someday become the CEO himself and then those six will be...And then he gets cut off because he gets that call from Namikawa to turn on Sakura TV and the demise of Higuchi begins. Before we move on to the next part, in this scene we learn the more specifics of Higuchi’s motivations all along, he wants to become the CEO of Yotsuba and there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to achieve this goal, especially since he was given something as powerful as the death note.

I've fast forwarded to this scene when Higuchi finally makes the Shinigami eye deal with Rem. So we've known this whole time he didn't have the Shinigami eyes which is a lot of the reason he wanted Misa (whom he believed had the eyes at the time) to be his wife. Higuchi didn't want to cut half of his remaining life span for them, and well, it's easy to understand why it's a heavy price to pay. But I guess from this scene itself we learn that if he is pushed far enough between looking at a life in prison and/or death penalty or living a shorter financially prosperous life, he chooses the latter and decides the deal is finally worth it.

I will fast forward once more, to the part here when Higuchi, in a final act of desperation takes himself hostage. We could use this scene as proof of how dumb Higuchi is, but I personally do not think taking this action when under extremely stressful circumstances is unrealistic. People under extreme pressure could do things that could look ridiculous to those who aren't. Even Higuchi in this last panel acknowledges this, declaring that his life is over.

We know after this Watari shoots the gun out of Higuchi's hand and Soichiro and Mogi arrest him.

And then Light got his death note back, regained his memories, and killed off Higuchi.

However, this analysis is not done just yet, you see I would like to now take this opportunity to talk about how in the Death Note films, Higuchi and Kiyomi's characters were combined. And this might be looking too deep into it, but I doubt the choice was completely random because instead of using Higuchi or Kiyomi, they could have just added a new character. I believe this was done because the movie makers (either consciously or subconsciously) might’ve noticed Higuchi and Kiyomi share certain traits in common. They’re both highly jealous people who lust after power. They’re both obsessed with having others envy and admire them, but try to conceal this fact due to their pride. However, I will say I think Kiyomi is not as morally depraved as Higuchi, has a little more respect for human life than he does, and is more intelligent/capable but that’s beside the point.

Furthermore, in my opinion the film creators did a great job with this because they did not simply swap Kiyomi with Higuchi, but rewrote Kiyomi to be a more intriguing villain—that and Nana Katase is a great actress. Kiyomi was different from Higuchi in how she was able to make decisions and take actions on her own when she became Kira. If you haven’t watched the films, I want to encourage you to do so. The female characters are handled much better and Kiyomi easily became my second favorite female character in the movies.

To conclude, I intended to offer some insights into Higuchi's motivations and character while also making a point about how understanding him helps us better understand seemingly unrelated characters like Halle and Kiyomi. There's always so much more that goes on beneath the surface, that ignoring side characters can cause a person to miss out. Higuchi is, to put it simply, greedy, insecure, and has little to no morals whatsoever. He shows us this in how he would kill innocent people to criminals who don’t deserve the death sentence, use Takahashi to try to make himself look better, and would try to take over a company through murder and threats. Higuchi is an excellent example of how power in the wrong hands can blind someone and the chaos they can create due to low moral character. And I’m not exaggerating Higuchi’s actions ruined Yotsuba and took the lives of many innocent businessmen and women. l think Higuchi is interesting, and I can fully appreciate him as a fictional villain. Higuchi is my second favorite Kira, when I say this, please don't misunderstand this as I like him as a person standing in the same room with me or wish for him to be my friend…I bet however, nobody can ever guess who my No. 1 favorite Kira is. 😆 Anyways, thank you so much for reading this post. I sincerely hope it was worth your time. Have a great day/night. 😊💖

[rinusagitora]

I've turned like sour milk.

Fandom: Bleach Characters; Karin Kurosaki, Toushirou Hitsugaya, Momo Hinamori, Shunsui Kyouraku, Shinji Hirako, Lisa Yadomaru, Roujuurou Outoribashi, Rangiku Matsumoto, Izuru Kira, Shuuhei Hisagi, Renji Abarai Pairings: HitsuKarin-centric, mentions of RenShuuKiraHina, Rannao, ShinRose, & ShunUki Words: 4.2k Summary: Karin's dead now like she's always wanted. She's lucky enough to be housed by Momo and her spouses, but her troubles are far from over. Warnings: References of suicide & self-injury AO3: works/54973525 A/N: Written for HitsuKarin Week 2024.

Karin left the World of the Living wearing shorts and a tank top, barefoot having left her shoes on the bridge. Now she wears a white kimono, folded over like she's a corpse. She can't stop fiddling with the sleeves. She isn't used to their bell-shape. She isn't used to the fabric.

They trek through Ichibantai. The division is, more or less, what Karin expected it to be: antiquated. The floorboards squeal while Momo and Toushirou guide her towards the soutaichou's office. The building is a labyrinth, almost dreamlike. Evergreens cast shadows on the walls no matter where they are or how deep they venture. It's unnerving.

She knows this plane is but a graveyard. The overwhelming majority of the people here have died and carry that horror with them and it shows. Toushirou is now a century old. He still remembers the Russo-Japanese War and cholera. He got misty-eyed when she cracked a joke that he died on the can, and she's never felt as much of an awful person since, even after they made up. Naturally, the plane in which these people reside reflects the dawning of mortality, especially at night when the veil is thinnest. The knowledge of this doesn't keep the most primal parts of her from bristling.

They pause in front of a massive, carved door. Momo repacks her tobacco pipe, lights it with a spark from her snapping fingers. She takes a deep breath and knocks.

Shunsui is not what Karin expected. He opens the door, fixing a lively kimono over his shoulders.

"Hello. Thank you for meeting me at this time," he says. She smells sake on his breath. Her heart pounds. There's an odd emittance from him. Everyone has an aura. Toushirou's aura provokes the image of a dragon coiled around a snow-capped mountain. An icy exterior with a longing for stability found in authority. Momo's is a balefire in a meadow, or pushing around chicken in search of divination. Shunsui's aura is harder to peg. It's like a jack-in-the-box, if the puppet on the spring was a live snake. He is not the facade he dons.

"Soutaichou," Momo says. The three bow in unison. "Thank you for your accommodations. I understand it's after hours, but I presume you understand why I'd like to get this finished sooner rather than later."

Shunsui steps aside and they enter the office. The rice paper doors are open to a manicured stone garden. It's warm, despite it being late spring now, and she sees a kotatsu and a fire going in the pit. 

They take a seat around the kotatsu. Karin's legs ache the second she assumes seiza. The way Shunsui lounges makes her think they're being too formal, or that he loves seeing others prostrate.

"I'm sure you all understand these are most unusual circumstances," Shunsui says.

Momo smiles. "Is anything to do with the Kurosaki usual?"

Shunsui hums. He pours four glasses of sake. "Neither of you were present for Kuchiki's execution, but Kurosaki gave us the opportunity to save her from the execution and bring light to Sousuke's crimes. I can appreciate disruption."

He slides sake glasses over to them. Karin gingerly takes her cup and sips. It burns. This is far from her first taste of liquor, but it's strong shit. She's fuzzy the second it hits her belly. 

"Kurosaki-chan," Shunsui says. His cup touches his lips. "What were the circumstances of your death?"

Toushirou chimes, "She--"

Shunsui's hand lifts to stop him. "I want to hear it from her."

She's staring into the eyes of a nasty spirit while they drink. Her throat will be slit if her gaze averts. 

There's a dozen reasons why she drowned herself, each worse than the last, and increasingly private. She's never been good at politics. Even with the Gotei's multiple life debts to Ichigo, she's certain whatever she says will be held against her.

Karin gnaws on her lip and says, "This is all I've wanted."

"To die?" Shunsui says.

"No. To become a shinigami."

He chuckles. "But a short eighty years, and I'm sure you would've accomplished it."

"Eighty years of bumping into things isn't a life," she argues. "I'm sure you've seen my work, Soutaichou. It's all I want."

"Being a shinigami isn't all about exorcism," he says.

"I know. Toushi-- Hitsugaya-taichou is secretive, but he tells me there's a lot of paperwork no matter where you go."

"You've wanted this for a short... what? Five? Six years?" You understand we live forever unless we're killed or starve, right? Eons of fighting. Of dreary paperwork. Of the world ending. Over and over again."

Karin's heart pounds. She wishes it was dread. Instead, it's the thrill of a roller coaster. Of a promise. Of fresh love.

"May I ask a question, Soutaichou?" Karin says. He waves as permission. "In your years as a shinigami, have you been unfulfilled?" Shunsui is quiet. "My issue isn't as simple as disliking school. Even when my grades were okay, I'd look around what I could do with those skills, and all of it just seemed like a chore. Nursing was fulfilling, but I never had the bedside manner for it. The times I've battled hollows, and the times I've worked with your officers, have been the only times my skin has fit right.

Karin slides her cup onto the tabletop. "You ask why I killed myself. I couldn't go on, day after day, in skin that fit wrong."

"You're so much like your brother." Shunsui sips. "You've always done what's right for you."

Karin frowns. "Is that--"

Toushirou interrupts with, "That isn't an inherently bad quality, Soutaichou. Ichigo Kurosaki and his companions took out over half of our biggest threats for the Winter War during their excursion to Hueco Mundo. I'm confident our losses would've significantly increased if we faced the full force of Aizen's Court." He sips. "She has just as much to offer, and without Kurosaki's shortcomings."

Shunsui's gaze drinks her in. "Then what are your shortcomings, dear?"

Karin swallows. She isn't sure what else to do other than tell the truth. "I'm not always good at listening to authority. I have a temper as well," she replies.

"A temper?" Shunsui reiterates.

Momo scoffs. A cloud of tobacco billows around her face, and she says, while ashing her pipe into a ceramic tray, "All due respect, Soutaichou, our own have far more dangerous tempers. Is it not Mayuri Kurotsuchi-taichou who beat his lieutenant and daughter up until her demise during the Wandenreich invasion?"

"Kurotsuchi-taichou's usefulness is undisputed."

"That's exactly what I mean. Whatever shortcomings Karin has are a fraction of what we have in our uppermost echelon presently. You yourself acknowledge that acting against authority isn't inherently bad. Was it not you and the late Ukitake-taichou who rebelled against Central Forty-Six and your predecessor's orders for Rukia's execution? Do our present captains not have destructive tempers? Were we not founded on slaughter?"

Shunsui taps his cup with his finger. "I see now why you are so special to Nanao."

"I was given lucidity once Sousuke's influence was erased. She values that."

Shunsui leans back on his palm. "My niece has lived a thousand years and accrued wisdom of the ages for it. You have been the only one to share that, and at an infinitesimal age. Your input is one of the few I can take at face value."

There's a wave of indignity from Toushirou that Karin chooses to ignore for now. He's always butthurt when people aren't falling over his prodigal skills.

Shunsui stands and they stand with him. He circles the kotatsu and meets Karin. "It would be an honor to have you as our own, Kurosaki-chan. Once the exams open, you'll take an aptitude test, and your education at Shin'oureijutsuin will begin.

Karin smiles and bows. She can't believe this shit worked. "Karin is fine, Soutaichou. Thank you."

Shunsui bows, and they bow afterward. "Best of luck to you all. Good night."

Karin follows Momo and Toushirou into the night. He grabs her hand. She's fuzzy from booze, but optimistic.

"Well, that went spectacularly," Momo sighs. She takes a moment to puff from her pipe. "Now that that's done, let's go make merriment. Supper should be ready, don't you think?"

Toushirou sighs. "I'm just glad Muguruma's cooking skills are rubbing off on Hisagi."

"He's always been a good cook, you're just spoiled by Obaa-san's cooking."

"Yeah, yeah..."

Karin's heard a fair amount of Momo's husbands from Toushirou. He doesn't seem to get along with them, but tells her their relationship was more strained a few years ago, before the wedding. She's having trouble recalling any of their names, but knows one of them is a close friend of both Ichigo and Rukia, which is bad news for Karin. Ichigo's friends always seem to take his side. They always seem content squashing her under his heel.

Where else can she go, though? She isn't ready to move in with Toushirou so soon. As much as she loves him, she's filled with foulness. She isn't sure he can survive much more of her insanity. Of her self-destruction. God knows killing herself isn't the end of it. Wounds still fester within her.

Momo and her husbands reside in a classical double-decker with a garden and a spacious engawa. She hears ducks nearby and there are potent, joyous waves from within, wafting over her with the sound of laughter. It makes her chest ache.

Momo opens the door to a long entryway where their sandals are shed. "Toushirou, go ahead and meet the party. I'm going to get Karin out of those clothes."

"Alright. See you in a minute," Toushirou says to Momo. He turns to Karin and kisses her cheek. Karin smiles while fiddling with her sleeves. "You too."

Momo takes her past a remarkably open and modern living area, up a set of stairs, through a hallway lit by magical lights, and into a bedroom. She opens a closet brimming with bedding and boxes, and pries one from the neat pile, briefly opening it, and frowns. "Ugh, I might have to loan you something of Shuuhei's. You're much... flesh-ier than I am."

That's one way of putting it. Karin isn't tall. Taller than Momo, but it isn't terribly uncommon for anyone to be taller than Momo. The issue is she's as endowed as an hourglass. Her breasts are large, her hips are wide, and her arms and legs are as thick as the haunches of a horse. This has been a deliberate effort, of course. Karin loves nothing more than to be the image of power. But it does spell difficulty when she needs to borrow clothes from others. When Jinta and Ururu would take her home, each of them covered in the blood of hollows, the only one she could dream of fitting into was Tessai's drawstring pajamas while her clothes were in the wash.

Momo does find a suitable kimono. It's sleeveless and slate blue. Momo removes it from the box in search of an obi, and scoffs when she doesn't find one. "Ugh, I'm sorry. My husband wears... unique accessories at home. Let me grab an obi from my uniform to affix it, dear."

Karin pulls apart the obi holding the kyoukatabira she wears, sheds the rest she wears, and dresses in a loin cloth and the yukata. Momo finds a belt to shut it. It's clear these clothes were made for someone with a much flatter chest than her own. In order to keep the hem even, Karin keeps the collar open. She wishes she had tape to prevent a wardrobe malfunction. But ultimately it is workable.

Momo smooths the fabric over Karin's shoulders. "We'll get you some clothes soon, dear. This will have to do tonight, though," Momo says. "Are you okay to go downstairs now?"

"Better now than never."

They descend the stairs and Karin is taken to a large dining area brimming with jovial atmosphere. She hears laughter and smells hot food. The rice doors are open to a garden with a pond and something like four ducks. There are so many people here. At least a dozen. Karin recognizes Rangiku, and there's a redhead built like a brickhouse that Karin is certain she's seen around Karakura. He's likely Ichigo's friend.

Upon seeing Momo and Karin, the attendees lift their glasses and shout, "Banzai!"

Momo smiles and they take their seats. "This is a spectacular turnout for a last minute gathering," Momo says. Karin crosses her legs on the floor. "Thank you all for coming. You're our dearest friends, and I hope that our ward will find friendship among you all."

Karin bows from her seated position. "Thank you all for having me."

Rangiku laughs and waves her hand dismissively. "Oh, you're too formal! This is a party, isn't it?" 

Toushirou reaches over with a cigarette. She takes one in her lips and takes a drag once he lights it. A scrawny blond man, simply swimming in a shinigami uniform, shovels various dishes and two drumsticks from a fat turkey onto her plate. Karin thanks him, noting the gold wedding band against his gray skin. His reiatsu is a weird piecemeal of misery and something like four others. It's weird. Karin is curious, but doesn't have the opportunity to ask about it when Rangiku asks, 

"Well, Karin-chan, how are you feeling? Death treating you well?"

Karin isn't sure whether or not Rangiku knows that Karin committed suicide. She chooses not to broach the subject. "In truth, it's a lot to take in all at once. I'm fortunate to have Toushirou and Momo as guides."

"That you are," another blond man chimes. He walks over, shooing Toushirou to sit behind her, and sticks his hand out. "Shinji Hirako, captain of gobantai. Pleasure to meet you."

Karin delicately shakes his hand. "Likewise."

"So, we got a Kurosaki here permanently. What plans do you have?" Shinji asks.

"I imagine similar goals you had as a cadet. I'm here to become a shinigami."

"Yes, but why? What are you looking to get out of this?"

"Mah, Shinji, leave the poor thing alone," a bespectacled woman says. "It's her first night here. At least let her eat."

Karin picks up a drumstick as Momo giggles. Shinji sticks out his tongue at her. "Ever an ally, Yadomaru-taichou."

"You live with him long enough and learn to to equip some balls." The woman slides over. "I'm Lisa Yadomaru, captain of hachibantai... ignore Shinji's curiosity, he's always looking to get something."

Karin hums while she chews chicken. It's practically melting in her mouth. "It's a reasonable question. Soutaichou wanted to know the same."

"A reasonable question with more appropriate timing," Lisa says. Karin sees Toushirou and Shinji wrestling for the seat next to Karin in her peripheral. "Why don't you tell us about yourself first?"

She shrugs. "There isn't much to know about me. I hunt hollows. I used to play soccer. Toushirou and I have been dating awhile." The rest of it is too painful to talk about right now. Later. If ever.

Lisa chuckles. "Yeah, there's nothing quite like the field. It's a pity I must spend most of my time behind a desk."

"Oh, I understand my time will likely be spent the same way."

"Well, thankfully, this place is... a bit of a behavioral sink. There's a lot of us, there isn't always a lot to do, and so you'll have plenty of debauchery to engage in." Lisa sips sake. "Are you queer, Karin?"

Karin blinks. "That's quite a segueway."

"I promise it's related," Lisa says while Momo giggles.

"Well... yes. I'm a woman. I'm not particularly picky about my partners, so long as, um... well, so long as I'm topping if that makes sense." Karin smiles bashfully. She hasn't really talked about her sexuality with anyone but Jinta, Toushirou, and Ururu. It feels different. "I like more effeminate people, though."

Lisa says, "Ugh, yeah, those femmes have me by the belt at all times. Anyway: conservatism is prominent here, but most of us here are queer in some facet."

Toushirou finally wins back his seat. "Yeah, I've noticed the same. I mean, wasn't it Hirako and Outoribashi who married first of... er, for lack of a better word, the group?"

"Yes. Point being, you'll have your fill of whatever your poison may be. And if you get into my division, there's plenty to go around," Lisa says, winking.

Rangiku chuckles. "Oh, stop trying to play matchmaker for Yayahara-chan. She does just fine on her own," Momo says.

"None of you guys are any fun," Lisa whines.

Karin asks, "Who else is here?"

"Oh, dear, there's many," Momo says. "Here we go. You've met Rangiku-san, Shinji Hirako-taichou, and Lisa Yadomaru-taichou--"

"Yadomaru-san is fine," Lisa says. Karin nods.

"My spouses are Renji, Shuuhei, and Izuru," Momo says, pointing each of them out. Renji and Izuru, Izuru being the one who served her food earlier and Renji being the redhead she recognizes, are sitting with a carafe and another very large man that Karin is fairly cerain is either yakuza or bousouzoku judging by his cartoonishly large pompadour. Shuuhei is fitting over a pork bun with a lithe, green-haired woman. "The man with Renji and Izuru is Tetsuzaemon Iba-taichou. He's a dear friend of ours." Rangiku snorts and Momo glares at her. Karin's eyebrow cocks but she doesn't have further time to inquire. "Shuuhei is sitting with his co-lieutenant Mashiro Kuna. Their captain is the short, white-haired man sitting next to them, Kensei Muguruma-taichou. At the end of the table are Roujuurou Outoribashi-taichou, Izuru's captain, and Nanao Ise, my longtime friend, Rangiku's wife, and the Soutaichou's lieutenant."

The sheer amount of people here is a little overwhelming, and it's worse feeling what all of them feel. The longer she stays here, drinking in the infectious jubilation, the more she wishes she was alone. She only just suffered the grief of a couple dozen people; the ire of Ichigo and Yuzu, the confliction of her best friends. One would expect this feast would be a welcome departure from the last couple of days but it's all too much. Karin would rather have some time to process and to wallow.

The likelihood of her retreat is a different issue. Momo and her spouses were kind enough to offer their home as lodging. It would be incredibly rude to snub their efforts with her escape.

Roujuurou makes his way over, sitting behind Karin. She scoots herself around and bows to him.

"Hello and welcome to the Seireitei, Kurosaki-san," he says.

"Karin is fine," she replies. Roujuurou smiles.

"Your brother was our ally, and we, the Vizard, owe him. We owe you by extension," Roujuurou explains. Karin tries to brush off her brother's mention. "I am captain of sanbantai. Anything you need, I'll do what I can to provide. I know the same can be said for my husband Shinji."

Karin wants to say she doesn't want her brother's debts. Instead, she asks, "Vizard?"

He hums. Lisa says, "We're kind of like a hybrid of shinigami and hollow. We're not arrancar. Arrancar are... um... sourced from hollows. We were, and are, shinigami with hollows inside of us. Your brother is the same way."

"Well, it's more complicated than that according to Urahara, but yes," Roujuurou says.

"You know Urahara and Tsukabishi?" Karin asks.

"We were exiled with them after Aizen's experiment on us failed," Lisa explains.

"Well, yes, but it's more accurate to say they sacrificed their comfort to save us," Roujuurou says. "We would've been executed, or worse, if they hadn't ran with us."

Karin hums. "They are especially popular."

"More like infamous," Toushirou quips.

Roujuurou stands. "It was good meeting you, Karin. Take care. Again, my offer is indefinite. Whatever you made need."

Karin bows as he leaves. Toushirou squeezes her thigh, and she shoos him off. He leaks hurt.

"I'm going to fetch my husbands so they can introduce themselves as well," Momo says, standing. "Toushirou, could you fetch more sake?"

"Um, yeah, sure," he says.

Karin swigs a drink in her moment of privacy before standing to meet Momo's spouses Izuru, Renji, and Shuuhei. They're all much taller than she, even Izuru, who is simply swimming in his uniform.

"Karin, these are Izuru, Renji, and Shuuhei," Momo says. Renji nods to her.

"Hi," Karin says. She bow politely. "Thank you for having me."

"Welcome, Kurosaki," Renji says. He claps her on the arm and she winces. His slap doesn't sting as much as the name.

"Karin is fine," she says.

"Y'know, I didn't recognize you at first," Renji says, "you've grown up a lot."

"Yeah," she agrees.

"More importantly, what was it like living with Ichigo Kurosaki?" Shuuhei asks.

Momo says, "Let's leave those questions for a later time." Momo rubs Karin's back. "Do you have any questions for them, Karin-chan?"

Karin glances between them, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. She wants to ask why Izuru is comprised of something like four different reiatsu, ask how well Renji knows Ichigo, why Shuuhei is interested in her brother, but it all locks up in her throat. It embarrasses her. Normally, Karin is assertive and fearless, but she's tired now. Everything feels like a damn landmine.

"Naw," she says, "I think we'll get to know each other along the way."

Karin sits through another two hours of questions she doesn't have answers to, conversational topics of varying interest, and exorbitant alcohol consumption. By the point in which party-goers are peetering out, she's seeing triple and wobbling.

At least she's numb.

She does have the wherewithal to help with cleanup.

She wrings out a rag in the sink. Momo squawks, "It's your special night! It's like your birthday. Birthday girls don't do the cleaning!"

Izuru snorts. "You're always cleaning up after your birthday," he says. Momo's glare could very well have cut him, judging by how quickly he escapes the kitchen.

Karin unrolls the rag. "I's fine," she slurs, "leas' I shoul'do."

Momo sighs. "Karin-chan, I'm grateful for your help, but you need to lay down."

"Naw," she insists, brushing past Momo and tripping on her foot. She catches herself in the doorframe. Thankfully, she doesn't have the means for shame just yet. She'll leave it for the morning.

Momo sighs. "I'll have Toushirou take you to your room. Shuuhei had it made earlier today."

Karin hums. She looks at her hand and the rag's gone. Momo has it flung over her shoulder and it occurs to her just how sloshed she is. 

"Yeah, okay," Karin replies.

Momo whistles and Toushirou makes his way down the hall with an armful of dishes. Momo takes them, kisses his head, and Toushirou wraps Karin in a hug. He kisses her. It twists a knife in her chest she's only now aware of.

It's a chore getting upstairs. He has to drag her up because her feet aren't working, and it brings tears to Karin's eyes. Embarrassment, namely. 

She doesn't know if she can do this with him anymore. This isn't any different than the times he's held her in the shower while rinsing off the blood from her wrists.

She's laid on her futon, hugs his shoulders, and kisses him. His thumb pets her cheek.

Karin sniffs. "Toushirou, I know you can't... I know you can't feel others the way I do, but I'm in a lot of pain now." She wipes her tears away. "I don't know that I can do this now."

Dread washes over him. It's almost enough to make Karin hurl. "What?"

"I think a big piece of me broke when I jumped. All I feel is pain and resentment and... and I think to every time you rushed to my side when I couldn't take it anymore, when I'd gore myself, and I'd feel your pain."

"I don't know what you're trying to say." His voice is shaking.

Karin squeezes her eyes shut. Her tears roll off her temple and into her hair. "I can't do this to you anymore."

He licks his lips. "Are you breaking up with me?"

Karin sobs. She holds him and lays their heads together. "Can you wait for me?"

He sobs. "I don't understand what I did to... to prompt this."

"You're not listening," she says, "I broke, Toushirou, and you've mopped up after me for so long. I can feel when you're in pain. I can't do that to you over and over again when this is supposed to fix me."

He sits back on his legs and runs his hands down his face. Karin props herself on her elbows. There's four of him, coalescing into an image of confusion and hurt, before separating into six spinning, blurry iterations, blurry in her watery eyes. 

Toushirou sighs and says, "You've... you've been everything to me for years."

"This is supposed to fix me." She's still in pieces now.

His chest heaves while he licks his lips and pushes his fingers through his hair. "You're drunk." He stands. "Good night, Karin."

He leaves and rips her heart out with him, connective tissue and arteries and all.

Karin muffles herself as she sobs. Rolling onto the bedroll, snot blows onto her hand while she screams into her skin.

She knows better than most that shit gets worse before it gets better. The anguish of it isn't anything she'll get used to.

[slippery-domjot-balls]

Kira Nerys Appreciation Time

Last night I watched S4 E07 Starship Down for the first time. Without fail Kira makes my eyes water in every emotional scene she is in, but this episode in particular really showcased Nana Visitor's acting talent.

Her concern for Sisko was beautiful. I love that her faith in him as a religious icon does not overshadow her relationship to Sisko. I love that this episode gave us these moments where she shares her desire to be his genuine friend. She is not intimidated by his spiritual significance nor does she take to fanatically open worship and deification of Sisko. I love that she expresses how all there is between them is work. Kira wants their relationship to be more than work, an honest friendship with the comforts and joy of connection.

All types of faith are fragile little things. Faith in yourself, others, a religion, faith to take risk, faith to accept or reject, faith to change, faith to be something or anything. Kira deciding to have faith in Sisko would contain various doubts all the time. After all he is just a silly smooth nosed dude. But right now she has faith that they could be real friends.

Sorry for all the close up shots, but this beautiful actor just delivers on emotion. I felt her fear and her pain. I cried with her. I felt her desire for friendship and the potential therein threatened by mortality. Sisko's potential death could mean the potential death of her belief in the Emissary's mission and the loss of all the distance gained by battling the fears around that.

I also smiled with Kira. Whenever she smiles I cannot help it! She has such a pure and wholesome smile it literally pulls a smile out of me. I loved how eager she was to tell Sisko stories! She spoke with the love of a parent telling their sick little boy a story to help calm down. It was tender and intimate. A true pleasure to watch actors bring to life. Oh and her joy when Sisko asked for another story! What a sweetie.

And the friendship growth arrived! Look at that bright and lovely face! Absolutely beaming!

I only wish we were able to end on a shot of these two cheering in the stands of a baseball game.

No matter how bleak life can get it is important to hold on to whatever sliver of hope you can grasp. This episode was all sorts of bleak for everyone, but they were willing to learn and listen to each other which got them through it all.

DS9 is amazing. Pure and simple.

[ezrisdax-archive]

Kira + Jadzia, University au and they’re like lab partners or something!

send me a ship + an au and I'll write a short drabble

(I couldn't decide if Jadzia called Kira 'major' as a joke because she struggles to pick a major or because she was in the military so you can decide)

“Sill haven’t picked a major, Major?” Jadzia’s voice teased from above her.

Kira glanced away from her laptop to look up at Jadzia. It should have been an unflattering angle but it annoyingly wasn’t.

“I still have time.” Kira replied, gesturing to the chair beside her for Jadzia to take a seat. “Besides, none of this appeals to me.” She looked over at Jadzia. “We can’t all pick four things to major in.”

“I’m great at multitasking.” Jadzia said but Kira could tell she was tired.

If she brought it up Jadzia would just brush it off with her usual sarcastic optimism however.

It something she appreciated about her dormmate but also something that worried her.

“I hear Curzon tried to flunk you on a pop quiz again.” Kira said instead, her eyes turning to focus back on her computer.

The rant came seconds later.

“…I just don’t understand how Benjamin can be his T.A.” Jadzia finished. Kira hummed to show she was still listening but was frowning at her thesis line.

Somehow she didn’t think Professor Winn would appreciate any of her takes on their shared religion however.

Jadzia sighed and then there was a weight on Kira’s shoulder where she suddenly rested her head.

“That can’t be comfortable.”

“You’re the most comfortable thing here.” Jadzia replied, voice muffled against Kira’s sweater.

“That can’t be true.” Kira said with a derisive scoff.

“It is to me.”

She had nothing to say to that.

“Come on.” She nudged Jadzia a little to get off her shoulder. “Let’s go back to our dorm. You can take a nap there.”

“Will you still be my pillow?”

Kira rolled her eyes. “If you want.”

By Jadzia’s tiny smirk she had a sinking feeling this was going to be a long standing thing.

[styxhuntress]

My Reaction to The Teen Wolf Movie (spoilers ahead)

My thoughts on the Teen Wolf Movie.

Spoiler it sucked.

Let’s please write fix-it fics for this train wreck. I am begging you.

Movie Spoilers ahead.

1. It wasn’t great. It did have its moments, hearing Chris Argent call the Nogitsune a “Motherf*cker” was one of the highlights of the movie.

2. Why was Jackson even there? He honestly didn’t do anything of importance and felt like a useless side character, he wasn’t even funny (and it was clear they were trying to be)

3. The Kitsune character girl. I felt absolutely no emotional attachment to her. She kinda just existed.

4. Pretty much every character felt like a side character. They were trying to cram so much into 2 hours that the whole movie felt like a super long trailer for an even longer movie. There was no character development, no relationship development and to be honest it felt like I was watching completely new characters that I had no attachments to. They all just felt like they were boiled down to one personality trait. Like for real, add as many scenes as you need to make sure every character arc and plot line gets addressed properly. A movie can be more than 2 hours. Hell. There are movies that are 10 HOURS LONG! Make the movie how ever long it needs to be to give characters depth, give each plot line the details and attention they deserve, and to make the movie not feel rushed.

4 1/2. Except Derek. Derek was awesome as always. And then they fucking killed him. And I was one second away from chucking my phone at the wall.

5. Anyone else think it was kinda weird how Derek kept the jeep, yet supposedly hated it with a passion? He hated it, yet he never through it away. And then Eli, his SON, kept stealing it and was overall obsessed with it? No? Just me? *hint hint*

6. Eli was obviously supposed to replace Stiles. He was clumsy like Stiles, sarcastic like Stiles, obsessed with that Jeep like Stiles. And in the end he got to keep the Jeep, and that shot of him driving it made it so clear that he was supposed to be the Stiles character. But because he IS NOT Stiles, and because while he may be sarcastic, he wasn’t a spazz or funny like Stiles. And more than that, he didn’t show the same sense of loyalty that Stiles does, he didn’t have a “Scott” so the most important trait that Stiles had, was non existent in him. And because of that we will never even come close to appreciating him like Stiles.

7. Anyone else find it REALLY annoying how they kept talking about Stiles every 2 seconds as though that was going to make up for him not being in the movie? It doesn’t. It just makes us notice his absence more. And hate you more.

8. They made the movie all about the Nogistune, and yet there was NO STILES OR KIRA. Literally the two most important characters of that plot line. If the actors won’t come back, use a different villain.

9. The whole movie felt like a really long trailer. I felt like I was supposed to go watch the “real” movie when it was over. A movie should never feel that way.

10. WTF is up with Harris? He was a major villain in the movie but only had like 5 minutes of screen time. What is up with that?!

TLDR: the characters are all stale with 0 personality (except Derek. He’s great.) one of the main villains had only 5 minutes of screen time in a 2 hour movie. Stop mentioning characters who aren’t there as though that’s supposed to make up for their absence. It doesn’t. Don’t create a character to replace a fan favorite cause they will never be able to. The movie felt extremely rushed, and as though I was watching a movie trailer. Very, extremely mild, sterek vibes at times. And they used a story line that had two extremely important characters, and neither one of them was in the movie.

[slice-of-magenta]

Thank you @scribeoffate @rhyslahey and @slumop for tagging me as well! 🧡💕🥰

RULES:

post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular)

your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year

your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing (or art) over the past year

your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year

and your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year!

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Top 5 works I'm proud of: one of my top 5 is currently a wip. The rest:

fire close to the heart (platonic sciles)  I just liked that I finally made a fic where Stiles is saving Scott. (It's messy and I love it.)

Inked (Scott + Lydia, gen)  I look back at it and see i should have done some stuff differently but! Tattoos are so interesting and I wanted platonic scydia feels and I got that. I love them.

A Werewolf Heat (sciles)   this was another experiment with smut. tho I didn't go that deep into it as much as I wanted to and I keep saying I might continue it 😂 and I DO think about that. A lot. Every time I write lol. But honestly I want to do another that is so much better than that one? From my reread, it needs editing. it got way more love in kudos and in comments (in my opinion) than I expected. and I was so proud. I also love when fics talk about heats. Its werewolves! Especially with Scott! Why not take advantage of that. And I tried! 🥰

A Visit (kira pov)  I don't know why but I'm so happy about this one. It was the first time I wrote for kira. Maybe it was the first fic I did research with too (altho I kept it to teen wolf's interpretation of skin walkers mostly). This was a gift for momentofmemory 🧡

2. 4 current WIPS (many may not get posted before new year tho)

A fanart for an existing fic. I may have to redraw kira since she's very close to the frame and I want to center more attention on her too.

A fluffy Getting Together Malira fic

Fic with Rafael. I have two that I'm thinking to combine. This focused a lot on Scott too, so I'm contemplating to save it for Scott appreciation.

Sekret fic. That I hope gets finished before the year ends.

3. Three biggest improvements in writing/art

I'm getting comfortable drawing hands and bodies! (Art) I refused to draw those before.

I think my grammar is getting slightly better. Or at least, I worry about it less. Which is MAJOR for me.

the wips listed above and outside it is showing me that I am capable of indulging more. It's fanfic after all.

4. Top 2 resolutions for blog/writing?

Write more fic that goes out of my comfort zone. (Sciles is awesome and I will still write them a lot, but I want to explore different characters and other ships that I like too. Like Scisaac, Scydia, Jennifer/Kali, Malira, some POLYSHIPS, Lydia centric stuff, etc. Those are examples, and I don't promise anything.)

An art resolution would be to practice lighting and shading some more!

Im gonna skip the last question because that's hard. My favorite is in one of my WIPS.

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Tagging, feel free to ignore me because I don't exactly recall who did it or not 😅 (most likely everyone here lol): @scintalla @thiamsxbitch @cmnzoq @kailaris-rites @redmoonfever @momentofmemory (because everyone must tag her. It's rules. Made up by me.)

[isleofdarkness]

Gangs of the Isle and their politics

At least before the series starts

Rotten to the Core Four/Mal's Dragons (4) - Mal (Leader) - Jay - Evie - Carlos - Ash Westergaard

Mal's gang started with Jay trying to pickpocket her at age eight, then Carlos because Jay wanted to protect him (because he might have had a crush,) then Evie because she befriended Carlos and Mal thought she was cute (Mal *never* put her hands on Evie in this. She *did not* hurt Evie or try to.) Their original name was the Rotten to the Core Four, but it is also called the Dragons just to save time. Most of what they do is mischief and keeping the Villains in check, using Mal's reputation to intimidate them and to save those they might be hurting. She also keeps her mother's soldiers from brutalizing children, which is very much appreciated.

-

The Forgotten Children (10) - Maddy Mim (leader) - Gaston II - Gaston III - Clay Clayton - Zevon - Lydia Snoops - Hans II (Constantine)

The Forgotten Children was started by the first generation, namely Ginny and Anthony, and they were called that because they were children of the good guys (well, one out of two, in Anthony's case,) but had been forgotten by their people. They were actually a very good, helpful gang, until Mad Maddy came in, drove Ginny out, and overthrew Anthony. He stayed for a while, tried to keep the gang going for the same goal, but she wasn't having it. Now that gang is focused on making the "goodies" of the Isle (the gangs trying to help people without caring about personal benefit) suffer. They're villains, they're evil, stop trying to pretend they aren't.

-

Diego's Devils (39) - Diego de Vil (leader) - Jade - Yzla - Freddie Facilier - Celia Facilier - Reza Bing - Hermie Bing - Claudine Frollo - LeFou Deux - Rick Ratcliffe - Veronica de Vil - Tara D'Arque - Anna Westergaard - Riah Darhk - Hadie Olympian - Jace Badun - Harry Badun

Diego's Devils was founded on the belief that no child should have to do what Diego had to do. Originally it was a much more covert gang, much more vigilante justice and temporary shelter, but Diego eventually broadened it and came more out of the dark. The Devils are still pretty much a halfway point between Uma's crew and Harriet's, but they do some distribution and more permanent shelter

-

Uma's Pirate Crew (34) - Uma (Leader) - Harry Hook - Gil Facilier - Desiree Aladdin - Jonas Never - Bonny Sid - Gonzo Pan - Big Murph - Rose of Hearts - Ace of Hearts - Mischa, Polina, Kira, and Pasha Rasputin - Squeaky, Squirmy, and Sammy Smee - Belle and Narcissa LeGume - Madrigal, Morwenna, and Morpheus Mim

Uma, being a childhood friend of Harry and trying to avoid home, spent a lot of time around Harriet. She saw the stress Harriet was going through and decided to help, so she got The Lost Revenge from Captain Hook and started another, albeit smaller and younger, gang to do what Harriet does. She doesn't do as much, only what Harriet can't take (Harriet is trying to keep as much of it off Uma's shoulders as possible because Uma is so young,) but she's a major force of good and also very popular with the magic population of the Isle, as Harriet didn't inherit mermaid magic like her brother and sister.

-

Harriet Hook's Pirate Crew (48) - Harriet Hook (Leader) - Anthony Tremaine - CJ Hook - Giles and Gordon LeGume - Agony and Chaos - Arika Sykes - Dizzy Tremaine - Calypso - Scout - Ivy de Vil - Mallory, Malvolia, Mara, Malcolm, and Mage Mim

Harriet's Pirate Crew was started because she knew from a young age that not everyone- if fact, barely anyone- on the Isle had a mom and dad as good as hers. She saw that other kids were suffering and she wanted to help, so she fixed up one of the ships of Shipwreck Cove and, with Calypso as her original first mate, started trying to ease the suffering on the Isle. She distributes goods, offers temporary or permanent shelter, breaks up human trafficking, helps abused kids, helps the hospital, etc. But it was a lot even if she'd been an adult. That's where Uma came in.

-

Maverick Mim's Mutants (4) - Maverick Mim (leader) - Giles LeGume - Tarzan D'Arque - Nikita Rasputin

Less of a gang and more of a network, Maverick Mim connects the magic users of the Isle to have each other's backs. The actual gang is only four people- Maverick herself, Nikita Rasputin, Giles LeGume, and Tarzan D'arque. The others are just part for protection. On an island with far too many witch-hunters and monster-killers, the magical population needs someone to have their backs. Maverick Mim makes sure everyone does.

-

The Witches (39) - Mordred Mim (leader) - Morwenna, Mace, Mystica, Morrigan, Morticia, Malachi, Mabuz, Mignight, Malacoda, Mora, Michael, and Maddox Mim

Madam Mim is evil. Madam Mim is evil and, if she has her way, she's going to have all of her descendants under her thumb. Mordred, the second oldest of them, didn't like her owning so many extremely powerful magick users so, when Michael was born and had the power to free them, the two did. Michael freed all of them from Mim's ownership and they created The Witches, something Madam Mim hates being called, to watch out for each other and anyone else Mim might own. Mordred protects Riah, Maverick, Mara, Lydia, and Constantine, and he backs Uma, Diego, and Harriet for having his cousins in their crews. They're mostly dedicated to keeping Mim in check, but if someone hurts one of their own... It's family first and family last and family by and by.

-

Exiled Gods (8) - Justice Olympian (Leader) - Hatitosa Lokidottir - Mercy Olympian - Dawn Olympian - Mavis Mim

The Exiled Gods was actually started by two Villains, Circe and Medusa. They were the ones who opened communication with the Losties and opened up Exile for the truly desperate. That's why the name is Exiled Gods, because that's who it originally was. But the second generation grew older and Justice eventually took over when she was fifteen. There isn't much for them to worry about on Exile, not with the Medusa and Circe always ready to take over what the other gangs do, so Justice mainly operates the gang as keeping up relations with the Losties and trying to ensure the wellbeing of everyone on Exile.

-

Silver Cross - Ginny Gothel (leader) - Mordred Mim - Kira Rasputin - Yzla Frollo - Evie - Jade - Lydia Snoops (sometimes) - Shan Sarangerel - Jonas Never - Tara D'Arque - Mildred Mim

-

Arrangements Sanctum Agreement- Ginny Gothel, Uma's Pirate Crew, Rotten to the Core Four, Diego's Devils, Harriet Hook's Pirate Crew - Started by Shan Yu as the first generation was being born. When Sanctum is called, rivalries, gangs, territories, past issues, whatever, it means nothing. When someone calls Sanctum, they are to be given help no matter what. This is kept in place by a kind of golden rule- if we don't do this for them now, they won't do it for us when we need it. AT least that's what Auradon thinks.

Silver Cross- Ginny Gothel and all groups - When Ginny Gothel was little, out of both a desire to help rather than harm and the deep belief that everyone deserved medical care, she read about the Red Cross, doctors who treated battlefield injuries no matter their sides, and decided to replicate it. Wearing a silver X on her chest, a silver Cross, Ginny learned everything she could and became the fastest source of medical care on the Isle. The Silver Cross has grown in size and in recognition. Most people on the Isle have been helped, in some way, by Ginny and her teachings. You don't attack members of the Silver Cross.

13 Rule- Ginny Gothel, Exiled Gods, Harriet Hook's Pirate Crew, Uma's Pirate Crew, Rotten to the Core Four, Diego's Devils - This rule dictates that no gang should put a member of the crew younger than thirteen years of age onto the field unless they want to be. This was started by The Forgotten Children, back when Ginny and Anthony ran it, and spread as a kind of common sense rule when they weren't. Most gangs won't put someone younger than thirteen on the field even if they do ask.

Allies Diego's Devils and Uma's Pirate Crew Diego's Devils and Mal's Dragons Diego's Devils and Harriet's Pirate Crew Diego's Devils and Uma's Pirate Crew Shan Yu's Army and Sanctum Agreement Uma's Pirate Crew and Exiled Gods Uma's Pirate Crew and Harriet's Pirate Crew Uma's Pirate Crew and The Witches Maverick's Mutants and The Witches Maverick's Mutants and Diego's Devils Maverick's Mutants and Harriet's Pirate Crew Maverick's Mutants and Uma's Pirate Crew Lydia Snoops and Sanctum The Forgotten Children and Harriet Hook's Pirate Crew

Neutral Points - Kronk's Shelter - LeFou's Home - Tremaine Manor - Hades' Cavern - The docks - Gothel's Tower - Facilier's Arcade

[sheepwithspecs]

Sweet Surprises

|| PLvsAA || Rated G ||

Ao3 Link

In an attempt to express his feelings, Zacharias Barnham attempts to craft the perfect Valentine's Day gift. Does he finally have the skills he needs to succeed, or will his second verse be same as the first?

“Three roses, please.”

The flower seller’s shop was balmy compared to the damp, frigid winter just outside the glass door. However, the sticky warmth wasn’t the reason Barnham found his hair plastered against the back of his neck. The majority of his perspiration came from the steady gaze being directed at him over the plated rims of Ms. Kira’s glasses. The young woman had seen sit to glare at him from the moment he entered the shop, and though he could not necessarily blame her—he had executed her as a witch, after all—it did make his current task all the more difficult.

“Three roses,” Kira mused, taking the beautiful flowers by their long stems and expertly trimming down the thorns. “I must say, Sir Barnham—I’m a little surprised. Three women at once must be a handful, even for someone of your… caliber.” She gave him another sidelong glance, lips pursed as she snipped errant leaves from the lower halves of the stems.

“I-I beg your pardon? I’m not—ahem.” He cleared his throat, shaking his head quickly against her less-than-subtle accusations. “I’m afraid you’re mistaken. ‘Tis platonic affection, not romantic conquest, that guides my actions.” In two cases, at least. “I intend to show my appreciation and goodwill to all the important women in my life, rather than one alone.”

“Is that so.” She punctuated each dry word with the crackle of plastic, wrapping the roses carefully in clear film and handing them across the counter with a derisive sigh. “Will that be coin, or card?” Cradling the roses in his free arm, he dug deep into the pocket of his long coat for the correct change, tipping it into her expectant hand with a painstaking smile. She straightened her spine at once, a cheerful expression sliding effortlessly into place.

“Thank you very much for your kind patronage, sir!” she chirped in another voice entirely. “Happy Valentine’s Day, and please remember us for all your future floral needs!” Startled, he glanced over his shoulder just in time to see the flower seller himself slip around the corner, his hands full of posies. He nodded politely at Barnham, the look dissolving into a warning glance at Kira before he vanished behind the partition that separated the storefront from the storage area.

“I… thank you,” he mumbled, seeing that Kira had immediately relapsed into apathy. Shaking his head, he carefully wrapped the flowers in his coat to protect them against the rough winds before shouldering his way through the door and into the biting cold.

Labryinthia’s streets were a gray, muddy mess of half-melted snow. Boot prints and hoofprints alike were outlined by the slushy ruts of cart wheels, creating slick patterns down the center of the cobbled paths. The sky above was a merciless cobalt, darkening clouds threatening the city with another dose of either sleet or snow by night’s end. Anyone unfortunate to be on the streets were, like him, bundled head to toe against the elements; thick woolen scarves and all manner of hats served to protect as best they could against the bitter ocean gales.

Barnham hurried towards the bakery, taking care that the flowers weren’t crushed in his grip as he fought the full brunt of the wind. Many shops in their part of the neighborhood were still open at this hour, but he could see few customers inside as he passed the frost-glazed windows. The bakery, by comparison, was closed in anticipation of the work that needed to be completed before the holiday.   

He waved through the window to Mrs. Eclaire as he passed beneath the overhang, heading for the side alley and climbing the narrow steps to the living quarters. It meant a few extra seconds in the cold, fumbling for his key with numbed fingers, but he couldn’t risk the others seeing his gifts.

The upstairs rooms were only slightly more comfortable than the temperature outside, being sheltered from the wind. No one had been up yet to light a fire in the small grate, and the portable heating units were switched off to save on electricity while they worked downstairs. Barnham quickly made his way to his bedroom, shrugging off his wraps and shivering as the cold air crept beneath his jumper. He filled his old pitcher with water and placed the roses inside to safely last the night.

His task completed, he retreated downstairs to the bakery’s welcoming warmth. The air was thick with the smell of cocoa and sugar, and a fire crackled cheerfully in the oven. The kitchen, glowing cozily in the waning light, seemed entirely separate from the world beyond its windows. Life as a baker’s apprentice was hard, and often more grueling than a day of garrison drills; that being said, evenings like this made the backbreaking work worthwhile.

Mrs. Eclaire sat at the table, her mitts stacked primly on the chair beside her. She frowned at a tablet in her hands, muttering to herself as she poked at the screen. The tablet was brand new, a gift from Espella who—in the name of progress—had recently created a website for the bakery. Her claims that the site would pay for itself had already come to fruition with the advent of a limited edition cake for Valentine’s Day. The idea was so popular that they’d had to close orders after three days, leaving them with a mountain of work and a mob of upset Labyrinthians who’d missed out.

The one caveat to Espella’s monetary scheme was, unfortunately, the baker herself. Mrs. Eclaire was not technologically savvy by any means; she did well to find her email inbox and reply to messages without assistance. Foreseeing problems, Espella had taken a spare notebook and written a small manual on how to maneuver the website. Mrs. Eclaire had it in front of her now, squinting down in the dim light and shaking her head in silent confusion as she attempted to mark filled orders and schedule delivery windows.

Espella was also hard at work, her plaits tied loosely behind her back as she worked her way down a long tray of cooled Valentine’s cakes. He had helped the others design them: a miniature Dutch chocolate cake, stuffed with sweet raspberry filling and covered in a dark chocolate ganache. She had finished the ganache and was now hard at work on the decorations, piping miniscule roses onto the center of each cake. In a bowl on one end of the counter, fresh raspberries had been cut and were waiting to be placed on top with dots of melted chocolate.

Barnham wasted no more time. He pulled his apron from the wall hook, slipping it over his head before turning to the water basin. The cold water stung his fingers as he scrubbed, but he persevered until his hands were clean enough to pass the most scrutinous of inspections. Joining Espella at the counter, he reached into a waiting box and pulled out a small mountain of unfolded packages. These were another one of Espella’s hare-brained ideas, something to do with branding; he’d honestly tuned her out after the first few minutes of explanation. They were custom cake boxes, and each had to be folded perfectly so that the lid slotted into the base without jostling the cake inside: that was all the explanation he needed.

“Ahem.” Taking up the first box, his fingers blindly found the folds as he peered through his lashes at Espella. She steadfastly ignored him, her eyes locked firmly on her work. “Espella,” he tried again, “I was wondering if you might—”

“Busy,” she grunted, cursing under her breath as a glob of icing ruined the edge of one pale pink petal.   

“So I see. But once you’re through, would you perhaps be so kind as to aid—”

“The answer is no.” He frowned, lining the inside of the finished box with a piece of tissue paper before moving to the next.

“I haven’t finished my question.” Espella sighed, carefully balancing her piping bag on the edge of the tray. Wiping her hands on her smock, she turned to glare at him with a scowl that could have easily rivaled the High Inquisitor’s. Months of living beneath the same roof had shown him that, while normally complacent and sweet, she could be quite the spitfire when her temper flared. Even so, never before had he seen such an expression on her face—not even when she was being dragged to the Court once a fortnight under false charges.  

“You’ve been asking me the same thing all month. I’m not stupid, you know.”

“O-of course you aren’t!” He laughed, nervous fingers nearly creasing the box in his hands. “’Tis only that I am not the best giver of gifts, and I merely thought… that is, if you had another suggestion for what I might offer Miss E—”

“No!” Espella slammed her palms on the counter, rattling the tray and knocking a few raspberries out of the bowl. Mrs. Eclaire looked up in alarm, her technological troubles forgotten for the moment. “No more suggestions!” She took a deep breath, whirling on him before he could come up with either an apology or a proper defense.

“I’ve suggested jewelry. I’ve suggested clothing. I’ve even suggested a candlelit dinner. You’ve turned down every suggestion I’ve had, Zacharias Barnham, so I suggest you man up and find your own damn Valentine’s Day gift!”

“Espella!” Mrs. Eclaire scolded, her brow knitting as she looked between the two of them. “Language, please!”

“He’s been driving me insane all month, Aunt Patty! He’d test a saint’s patience!” She drew her shoulders back, voice dropping in a poor imitation of his own. “’Tis too simple, ‘tis too cheap, ‘twould not impress Miss Eve at all,” she droned, hands on her hips. “If you’re going to be this picky, you might as well choose something on your own.”

“I’ve no time left for choosing gifts!” he protested. “Valentine’s Day is tomorrow.”

“That’s not my fault!”

“Calm down, both of you!” Mrs. Eclaire ordered sharply. “I won’t have any arguments tonight.” Espella threw up her hands, stomping to the supply cupboard and bringing out a bowl of icing. She took out her frustrations on it, whipping the peaks into sad shape as she stirred at the speed of light. “You know she’s right, Zacharias,” she added ruefully. “A girl can only have so many ideas, and you’ve found fault in every last one of them.”

“Just make her something,” Espella grumbled. “I don’t know why you won’t.”

“Aye, and have a repeat of her birthday?” he snapped back. “One humiliation per holiday is more than enough for me, thank you.”

“Birthdays aren’t holidays.”

“I didn’t ask you—”

“That’s enough!” They broke apart guiltily, retreating to either side of the counter in sullen silence. The childish need to have the last word wasn’t worth risking Mrs. Eclaire’s wrath, and they both knew it.  

“Now, Zacharias,” Mrs. Eclaire continued, “I’ll admit that the éclair gift was a disaster waiting to happen. But you were so dead set on it; I knew that letting you fail was the only way to make you slow down and listen. Failure can teach anyone.”

“It’s not our fault that you’re such an overachiever,” Espella gloated. Mrs. Eclaire crossed her arms and, properly subdued, she obediently turned her attention back to her icing.   

“What Espella means,” she said, “is that you’ve been working in the bakery for over a year now. You’ve got a lot to learn, it’s true, but you’ve also learned a lot. I’m sure that Eve would be more than delighted to taste anything you saw fit to offer her.”

“I am… flattered, that you have such confidence in my abilities,” he replied slowly, staring down at the box in his hands. “Even so, I’m simply unable to believe that my own meager talent could reproduce anything of value, especially when there’s so much I’ve yet to master—”

“I wish you’d stop focusing on everything you can’t bake!” Espella put her hands on her hips, ignoring Mrs. Eclaire’s stern frown. “The only reason you haven’t settled on a gift is because you keep letting your expectations get in the way. I don’t know why you can’t see that. Eve will be happy with anything you give her. You could hand her a pebble you found on the street and she’d treasure it because it was from you.”

“These cakes are small, but they’ve just as much flavor as any of our larger ones,” Mrs. Eclaire offered helpfully. “When prepared with thoughtfulness and care, the simplest of gifts can hold great meaning.” Picking up the bowl of raspberries, she stood across from Espella and started to work on the opposite end of the cakes. “Now, no more squabbling. I’d like to have these finished before dawn.”

“A simpler gift….”

Barnham stood alone in the kitchen, listening carefully to the silence. He didn’t want either Espella or Mrs. Eclaire to find him down here, especially when he was supposed to be asleep himself. Rather than risk being caught by switching on the bright florescent lights, he instead lit one of the old gas lanterns.

He quietly stoked the oven’s fire back to life, turning over the options in his mind. Mrs. Eclaire was right—his work in the bakery had taught him far more than the little he’d known on Eve’s birthday. That being said, every recipe that came to mind seemed… lackluster. Arms crossed, he rolled his tongue in his cheek as he thought. Every recipe had a reasoning behind it, a history that stemmed from some unfulfilled need. What did he need Eve’s gift to be?

Quiet was the first word in his mind. It would need be something that didn’t call for heavy mixing or clattering pans that might wake the women upstairs. Quick—something that could be made in a few hours, at most. Delicious­—that was a given. He wanted a tempting flavor, a treat for the senses that would linger for hours in the back of her mind. Every time she thought about how good it tasted, it would remind her of him.

Pies needed time to set. Cakes were good, but there was a large margin of error involved; there was no salvaging a fallen cake. Bread was too commonplace, doughnuts too simplistic. Fancy desserts like mille-fille and croquembouche were far beyond his skillset, no matter how hard he wished otherwise. A tart might have worked, had there been any fruit left in the bakery. He could probably find a few apples down in the storage bins, but even if he could shape them into flowers, there was nothing to put them on. There weren’t any ready-made biscuits or—

Biscuits! They seemed like too simple of a solution, but…. Barnham thought quickly, sifting through the supply cupboard’s contents as he wracked his brain for ideas. Biscuits could be made quickly, and any plainness could be easily hidden with icing and a little ingenuity.

True, he’d yet to decorate any on his own, but he knew how to make the icing and he had watched carefully as the others made simplistic designs. His mind was racing as he began to pull out the ingredients he would need. He could dye the icing to match her favorite shade of purple, and if he could find where Mrs. Eclaire kept the edible luster he could even make a gold border around the edges.  

“I’ll practice on the others,” he mused, feeling more confident now that he had a plan. He could make three personalized cookies from the same base, cutting down on time without sacrificing either quality or individual preference. It wouldn’t do to make three identical copies of the same biscuit, of course. He knew everyone’s favorite flavors, and it was in the spirit of the holiday to incorporate them into his gifts. Mrs. Eclaire and Espella had taken him into their home and made him part of the family; the best way to show his appreciation was to prove his mettle as a baker.

Espella’s would be the easiest—she loved any sweets that incorporated her homemade jams. He mixed up the dough, shaping the biscuit in his mind’s eye: a linzer heart, dusted with a fine sprinkling of sugar and filled with cherry jam. Sweetness surrounding a tart center… a mirror image of the girl herself.

Mrs. Eclaire, on the other hand, preferred something more versatile. He knew that her favorite desserts worked just as well with black coffee as they did with tea, allowing her to enjoy them whenever she pleased. Another heart would tie the theme together, but this would be a plain, serviceable vanilla. Icing would serve to embellish the finer details, leaving him with a biscuit that, for all it’s plain appearance, would leave anyone who tasted it with a smile.  

As for Eve…. He hesitated, hands hovering over the dough. Hers was a complex flavor, toeing the line between bitter and sweet. The outer layer would be tough, beautifully decorated with all manner of luxurious ornaments, and yet the inside would remain warm and soft. Could he trust himself to do her justice? I must, he insisted, taking the dough that was left and mixing it with cocoa. The biscuit itself would represent the High Inquisitor, with all the bitterness of dark chocolate. In comparison, the icing would hold all of Lady Belduke’s gentle sweetness. With every bite, she would taste her true self in their coalescence.  

As the midnight bell tolled, he wiped the sweat from his brow and looked down with unguarded pride at his creations. Three heart-shaped biscuits, each easily the size of his palm, sat in a neat row on the bakery’s smallest tray.  The left sparkled with sugar in the lamplight, a window cut out of the top layer to show the cherry flavor within. The right was glazed with icing the color of Mrs. Eclaire’s favorite green dress; an admittedly lopsided sunflower was painted with vibrant yellow strokes at the very center. And in the middle, his magnum opus: a chocolate heart with a simple pattern of purple roses, swirled onto a deep red background. The intricate border, as well as the sunflower’s petals, had been brushed with gold luster.

He packed each in its own container, nestled safely in layers of tissue paper. With a sigh of relief, he crept back upstairs to his own room and placed them beside the roses on his bedside table. There were only a few hours until dawn; he would have to rise early if he wanted to give Eve her gift before helping with the cake deliveries. But the loss of sleep would be more than worth it, if she would only grace him with one of her beautiful smiles….

As he’d predicted, a new layer of snow had fallen over the island by Valentine’s morn. It crunched beneath his boots as he jogged past the gate and through the forest. Snow hung in clumps from the evergreen boughs above his head, glimpses of white crystalline fields visible between the trees. The temperature wasn’t low enough to freeze the lake; an early morning breeze churned the dark water into waves that disappeared into the perpetual mist surrounding the manor.

Barnham had slipped and slid over the forest paths, the thin snow crumbling away to show a fine layer of ice beneath. Thankfully, someone—an undergardener, perhaps—had taken pains to salt and sand the bridges leading up to Eve’s manor. He crossed without a problem, following the narrow, winding path past the stable and up to her door. The landscape seemed even more eerie during the long winters months, twisted limbs of leafless trees making odd shapes in the fog; without the red blossoms that spring and summer brought, the grass poking out of the snowdrifts looked sad and gray.

He rang the doorbell, listening with growing trepidation as the last echoes disappeared somewhere deep inside the manor. Snow usually made sounds louder, but today it only highlighted the silence that hung like mist over the Belduke lands. It only added to his nervousness as he waited, clutching the gifts tightly in his gloved hands.

What am I meant to say? He had only visited Eve’s home two or three times, and always in her company. The servants did not see fit to speak to him—they generally gave him a wide berth when in their lady’s presence—and he was sure they’d not yet forgotten his dramatic chandelier “trick” in the Great Witch’s throne room. Eve certainly made sure that he didn’t forget it, either. Her teasing smile spoke more than words ever could whenever she recounted the servants’ horror upon seeing a priceless Belduke heirloom laying smashed on the stained carpet.

Before he had time to ponder the subject further, the great doors opened and he found himself face to face—in theory, at least—with a stately woman in black. Her thin brows arched in silent query as she looked up at him, her mouth twisted in an expression he was more used to seeing on Ms. Primstone.

“May I help you?” she finally asked, when several moments had passed without a word being spoken between them. He swallowed thickly, offering a shaky smile as he tried to keep from brandishing the gifts in his hands. A small, cowardly part of him wanted to hand her the gifts and ask that they be delivered to Eve in his stead, but surely he was more of a man than that….

“I am… here to see… Miss Eve,” he managed, wincing at how his voice shook with nerves. The woman didn’t reply, adjusting her spectacles on her nose. “L-Lady Belduke?” Her shrewd eyes looked him over once more, pursed lips tightening further at the state of his snow-caked boots.

“Are you?” she replied drolly. Belatedly, he realized that it was a silly, obvious statement. Of course he was coming to see her. Why else would he be at her front door? If he’d wanted anyone else, he would have known to knock on the servant’s entrance instead. “Most visitors,” she added, “see fit to offer their name.”

“I beg your pardon, ma’am,” he stammered, a hot blush steaming on his cheeks in the cold air. Foolish, stupid— “I am Si— I am Zacharias Barnham, ex-Inquisitor and current… baker.”

“Is this a scheduled visit, Mr. Barnham?” She was doing this on purpose now; there was a twinkle in the old woman’s eye, barely hidden by her otherwise impassive expression. Her eyes fell to the rose in his hand, lingering there for a moment. “I see,” she mused, though he’d not been able to say anything in his defense. “I suppose I can’t leave you out here on the doorstep.” She took a step back, keeping the hem of her long skirts out of the snow. “As threadbare as that coat is, you’re apt to freeze before breakfast.”

“Excuse me?”

“Well? Are you coming in, or aren’t you?” The woman sighed. “I don’t have all day, you know.” He quickly crossed the threshold before she changed her mind, dripping in the foyer as she shut the door behind him. “Heaven sakes, child— you’re not paid to sleep on your feet.” He turned around guiltily, ready to offer another apology, only to see her prodding along a bleary lad no older than some of the garrison’s squires.

“Hand Taran your boots and wraps,” she ordered, standing regally at the foot of a grand staircase. He obeyed meekly, silently hoping there were no holes in his socks as he slowly piled his outer layer into the yawning Taran’s waiting hands. “Come along, then. You may wait for Lady Belduke in the receiving room.”   

The receiving room turned out to be what he would call a parlour, although he didn’t dare say the thought aloud as he was ushered inside. A fire was already blazing in the hearth, the thick window curtains pulled back to show a picturesque view of the lake. Portraits of past Beldukes looked down at the room, including a very small likeness of Eve who could have been no older than thirteen or fourteen. He remembered the gray silk dress she wore from the few social functions he’d been forced to attend as a page, learning the formal manners he would need as a future knight.

Left alone, he perched gingerly on the edge of an armchair, hands in his lap. Even the embroidered cushions that adorned the cabriole sofas looked too expensive to touch; he was afraid to look at them too long, lest he somehow mar them and be forced to pay the expense from his own pocket. A clock on the mantle caught his eye, ticking softly as its hand showed a quarter to eight. Mrs. Eclaire and Espella would be rising now, if they hadn’t already. He’d left their gifts at their places at the table, where they would be sure to find them when they moved downstairs. Had they discovered them already?

“I’m so sorry if you’ve been waiting long, Zacharias.” The door opened and Eve swept in, her unbound hair fluttering around her shoulders as she looked around the room. He stood abruptly, heart pounding as he clutched the gifts to his chest. “With Espella’s talk of cakes, I didn’t expect to see… you….” Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of the rose, lips parting wordlessly before she bit them closed.

It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn’t planned for this part: the actual gift-giving. His mind had jumped from making the gift to her enjoyment of it, skipping everything in-between. He hadn’t practiced what to say, where to stay, how to act! The words seemed to lodge themselves behind the lump in his throat as they locked eyes.

Happy Valentine’s Day. That’s all you have to say, fool! He felt as helpless as he had on her birthday, standing an hour for the chance to offer her a lumpy éclair. That mortifying ordeal had only been tempered by her smile and—as unnecessary as it was—her gratitude. But now there were no friends to interrupt them, no teasing words to hurry him along. He had to manage something; the fear of rejection could not be his strongest enemy!  

Surely he could manage something as short and sweet as “Miss Eve, please accept this humble gift, even if you do not accept me”, or “I think I’m in love with you, don’t try to stop me if I attempt to drown myself in the lake after this”, or even “For the love of the gods, please have some mercy on your poor baker”….

“For… you,” he croaked, thrusting both gifts at her in a helpless gesture of defeat. She stared with equal helplessness, wringing her hands as she fidgeted in place.

“F-for me?” she repeated, sounding as breathless as he felt.

“Mmm.” Language was clearly not on his side this morning. He somehow managed to unstick his feet from the rug, taking one step forward, and then another, until he stood in front of her. Gently he pressed the gifts into her hands, a jolt running through him as their fingers brushed around the rose. He locked his trembling fingers together behind his back, watching as she sniffed the rose appreciatively.

“I… I like roses.”

“Good.” Why was it so hard to breathe? “I’m glad.” Eve carefully placed the rose on the mantle before turning her attention to the box, attempting to untie the bow that held its lid in place. He waited with bated breath, pulse ringing loudly in his ears as he watched her lift the lid and fold back the creamy tissue paper.

“It’s—oh!” Her eyes lit up in clear wonder, a pleased smile on her lips as she ran one finger along the edge of the braided gold trim. He noted in satisfaction that his coloring had not been amiss; the tiny rose swirls were the exact shade of the curls cascading down her back. “I had no idea the bakery even sold such beautiful treats.”

“We don’t.” He cleared his throat, attempting to manage something better than a mouthful of gravel. “I made it.”

“You… you made this? For me?”

“Yes. I am much improved since the day of your birth, am I not?” Heavens help him, now he was bragging. “It tastes like you.” Her smile faded immediately. “W-wait, that’s not right. I meant that ‘tis supposed to be you—”

“What?”

“T-the flavoring!” First he had been unable to speak at all; now he wished only to stop, and found himself unable to do so. “I made it while thinking of you, ‘tis bitter and sweet both—not that I think you to be bitter! That could not be farther from the truth, I merely… I meant it to be in your likeness, with the red and… and your color and….” He ran a hand through his hair, biting his tongue until he tasted blood in an effort to stop the prattle from pouring forth.

“You were thinking of me….” She gently placed the biscuit back into its tissue paper nest, her cheeks dusted a sweet shade of pink. “I don’t know what to say.”

“You needn’t say anything, Miss Eve.” He was thinking on his feet now—no, that was inaccurate. He wasn’t thinking at all, the words falling from his lips faster than he could register. “But if you must say something, please… please say that you will accompany me Sunday next.” Where did that come from?! Of all the things to say! How could he be so brazen, so… so presumptuous—

“I will.” Huh?

“I have no plans for Sunday, so I would be… very happy to accompany you.” Huh?!

“I, um… good! Good.” He had no real destination in mind, but that left him a week to plan. Perhaps Espella’s suggestion of a nice dinner would come in handy after all. If he could scrounge up the coin—ask Mrs. Eclaire for an advance on his wages—he could afford that new upper end restaurant on North Parade Avenue….

“Then it’s settled.” Her cheeks were more red than pink now, her eyes locked firmly on the buttons of his shirt. “We can discuss the finer details later in the week.” Was this a date, or a business proposition? The clock on the mantle chimed the hour, startling them both. “W-would you like to stay for breakfast?”

“I cannot, I’m afraid.” He smiled regretfully. “There are deliveries to make, and I have a duty to see them fulfilled before day’s end.”

“Oh… of course.” They stood awkwardly before the fire, looking everywhere but at one another. “You should probably go, then. I don’t want you to get into any trouble because of me.”  

“Right.” Her fingers were dancing again, twining around each other as she stared into the fireplace. Acting once more on impulse, he took her hand in his own. Despite being so close to the hearth, her fingers were cold. He bowed pressed his lips gallantly to the back of her palm, heart skipping a beat at the sound of her quiet gasp.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss Eve.”

That went well, all things considered. He walked quickly along the path, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat and lapels turned up against the worst of the wind. She clearly enjoyed her gift, even she hadn’t grasped the full meaning of his choice, and now he had a date for next weekend. The thought sent his heart racing, a warmth coursing through him that had little to do with his fast pace.  

Anything was possible now, was it not? She agreed to one date, so why not two? Three? How many dates did it take before he could call her his girlfriend? Would she want him to call her that? Did he want her to—yes, he definitely wanted to hear her say “my boyfriend”. Was it acceptable to hug a woman on the first date? Would she think him too forward if he held her hand? What if—

“Wait! Zack!” It was the Zack that stunned him; Eve had never called him by that name before. He turned just in time to see her slip on a patch of ice, stumbling and nearly sliding into his chest before skidding to a stop on the snowy path. Beneath her woolen beret, her face was red from both exertion and embarrassment. He held out a hand to steady her as she caught her breath, mind awhirl to imagine what could have sent her into the cold after him.

Someone had fallen ill, and she needed him to run for Jean. She wanted to place an order at the bakery. She had a message for Espella she wanted him to relay. She’d changed her mind about Sunday, she didn’t want to date him after all—

“What’s the matter?” he asked, his own breath short as his thoughts ran rampant. “Is something wrong? What—” She reached up without a word and took his face in both hands, dragging him down to press her lips to his. Her palms were only a few degrees warmer than the air around him, but her cheeks seemed to blaze as she kissed him. Before he could begin to understand what was happening, she let go. He staggered back a step, heart dropping like a stone to sit somewhere in his lower stomach.

“Thank you,” she panted, her breath steaming in the air between them. “I forgot to say it earlier.” Thank you? For what? He gaped at her, brain unresponsive and thoughts stalling as he began to process what had just happened. It was only when she moved away, head dipping self-consciously, that he sprang to life with a jolt.

“Thanks is not necessary!” His own face began to burn, everything from his roots down tingling in a way that was not wholly unpleasant. “Your smile was more than enough thanks for me. But,” he added quickly, seeing her head sink further, “should you be willing t-to… to thank me again… ‘twould be most welcome.”

“I-I might see fit to thank you again… on Sunday next.” She took a step back, eyes lifting to meet his as she smiled shyly. “If it’s alright with you, that is.” He laughed, the sound part nervous energy and part true delight.

“I shall look forward to it.”