#the crest theater

[thedaveandkimmershow]

February felt like we didn't do anything. That's only because, of course, we started the year with a last-minute trip to Holland to visit family.

The reason we went was because one of my uncles was diagnosed with terminal cancer and this was our last opportunity to see him.

About a week after we returned home, he lived out his last wish to return to the country of his birth: Indonesia. He went with his wife and two "kids" (my cousins who're around my age) on an adventure that involves a two part international flight totalling about fourteen hours in the air. No longer able to walk on his own, it was a wheelchair for him the entire trip. Once in Indonesia, they began doing a Greatest Hits of family, old friends, places he and my aunt grew up in, lived, knew from childhood and teenage years, and then a bunch of tourist stuff. During the course of three weeks, they moved across the country from west to east by trains, small planes, and cars. It was a magnificent trip we got to follow online through an app called PolarSteps, a real-time travel blog with pictures and video.

The trip was to last three weeks after which they'd all return home to Holland. Unfortunately by the last week, my uncle's cancer had progressed further, he was no longer able to eat or drink much, he was losing weight... 

And then he was hospitalized.

In the end, he traveled the country of his birth from west to east for two and a half weeks, making it to Bali before he could go no further. He died after the day they were to return home. He died after his daughter returned to Holland and her daughter traveled the distance on her own to join him for the last two days of his life.

In his final hours, he slipped into a coma...

And then he was gone.

His memorial service was the first of March that's basically the thirtieth of February if there was such a thing as February thirtieth this year. We didn't catch the Livestream because it was too early our time but we did watch the video once it posted. 

Of course everyone's speaking Dutch so there's only so much we understand. Fortunately, I have some tasty apps at my disposal so now we have a version that's captioned in English. It's not perfect, I'm sure. But good enough for our understanding.

On the same day as the memorial service happened, February 30 (😉), there was a Life celebration gathering for my production mentor and friend, Tom Speer, who passed away at the end of November, last year. This day on which we gathered was also, would've also been, Tom's birthday. So yeah. There was wonderfully frosted cake alongside an assortment of food and drink. We sang Happy Birthday. This is also a production/broadcast group of professionals whose paths cross or have crossed. So there's a lot of catching up, filling each other in on our lives. Most of what we did, though, was share Tom stories. In fact, the main event of our gathering was a number of friends standing up front to share their experiences with Tom as friends, as neighbors, as people who worked alongside Tom during his extensive career as a videographer. That really was the point. We all walked away knowing more about Tom than what we knew when we first walked in.

It was a gift. It really was.

Continuing this thread of dear life slipping away, I also dedicated time to writing the obituary for Kimmer's aunt Jacquie who passed away at the beginning of November last year.

I wrote her husband's obituary after he died at the top of 2023. It was crazy bittersweet to do the same for his wife who passed away eleven months later. And yeah. It really is a galling thing to reduce someone's life to five hundred words.

Not my favorite thing. Like, at all.

With Jacquie, we didn't get as lucky with her obit photograph as we did her husband. Someone had taken a genuinely iconic photo of him an,d not long before, forwarded it to his son, Kimmer's cousin. So Kimmer wound up going through every photo of her online, in any photo album, and anything on her phone or laptop. What she eventually settled on was perfect... although it was a photograph of a photograph in an album. And because of the angle at which the photo was taken and the reflections from the clear plastic covering the photo that obscured some of its details and because Kimmer was also in the photo standing shoulder to shoulder, slightly in front of her aunt...

Because of all that the photo was less than ideal. Fortunately, with an AI/Photoshop/Topaz Labs assist, I was able to scale up the photograph's resolution, pull Kimmer completely out of the shot, and restore anything that was hidden either by reflections or by Kimmer standing slightly in front of her aunt. It was a clever bit of magic these apps performed that produced the photograph we desired. Reminding us all through the process just how much we miss Jacquie.

Intersecting with all that loss on our minds, it felt like we were randomly asked "how are you doing?" more than usually occurs. Even on a normal day the question always gives me pause because there are so many moving parts in our lives and not all of them are awesome all the time. And some of them are. So what do we do? Average those things? Cherry pick? Go with fine???

The middle of the month was a spread out Valentine's Day. Spread out because we never celebrate on the day because everyone's out and about celebrating that day, clogging up all the quiet corners we care to occupy. Day after Valentine's Day, then, we go out to see a movie together, "The Holdovers" at The Crest in Shoreline. A magnificent experience we enjoyed with a humongous bucket of superbly buttered popcorn. Then the day after the day after Valentine's Day, Friday, we exchange presents and cards and flowers before heading out to dinner at Girardis Osteria in Edmonds for an ungodly amount of delicious pasta to accompany our wine.

Snow made an appearance at our home in late February, dusting our home and yard and cars three mornings running, having completely melted by three afternoons running. On the first of those days I took our car—the one that was stolen in December and taken on a wild bumper car ride to Bellevue—I took our car to the body shop where we're having our next round of work done in April. This particular day, our insurance wanted the interior mold taken care of so that what was done for our car since it spent a number of days in a tow yard with a fully smashed window during a string of relentlessly rainy days was not a waste of time. After the drop-off, I caught an Uber ride with a gentleman who's incredibly proud of his wife and daughters for the degrees and graduations they recently achieved.

Funny thing: one of his daughters works at a local company where one of his Uber rides turned out to be working. They figured it out during conversation that the ride and his daughter work in the same department.

Small world.

And the snow? 

While we got a half inch or less, he and his neighbors accumulated two inches of snow on their properties.

Cats were a thing in February. We welcomed into our home a big black cat named Quarter (as in Quarter Note) on behalf of a dear friend who'll be away until Fall. Taking a bit of advice from a cat expert on YouTube, we kept our cat, Dinker, and the new cat apart for a week or so. Each was aware of the other, of course. But they never met in person. Early on, the closest they got was staring at each other through the glass of our family room door. No hisses. No aggressive postures. Just a curious sort of "who the heck are you?"

Eventually, they came to share the same physical spaces with a benign tolerance and trust. Again no hissing or aggressive posturing. By the end of the month, they were even playful with each other. Tussling. Chasing after one another. 

They each have their own individual rituals and habits along with home bases at opposite ends of the house and a shared mealtime that turns into a bit of a race to see who finishes first so they can poach the other's unfinished meal.

February after Valentine's Day also bore witness to our first steps at deChristmassing our home. So far we've got all the garland down inside the house except for Kimmer's office where that bough will grace the room the full year. We've got most of the nicknacky decorations put away including the stockings hung over the fireplace. We've got a number of interior light strings put away even as most will stay up 'cause we like the look. All the icicle lights outdoors along our front gutters from one end of the house to the other are put away. As are the random lights we threw on the bushes. Thankfully, there was time to tag all the lights and garlands with their locations in preparation for the end of this year when they all go back up again.

Hopefully, probably, we'll have it all put away before this month of March sees its last day.

Okay.

The thread running through February that will continue running through the foreseeable months for the next one and a half years... is Kimmer and her doctoral program. Thirty-some hours a week of reading, writing, class interactions, lectures, conferences, and research paired with a thirty-hour work week and the never-ending charting each such week cranks out. It's not the sum total of our daily routines and responsibilities but it is the main juggling act on a high wire that's going on around here along with everything that pops up because yeah. Things pop up you gotta do or deal with or that you just wanna do as a break from what you gotta deal with.

So this.

Was not a month off. Just a different way to go wall to wall while maintaining a life together in there somewhere: lunches together, walks in the neighborhood, listening to podcasts, alternately streaming Royal Pains and Big Bang Theory, planning adventures, snuggling while the snow falls.

In the end, February was a month soaked in emotional experience. It was a lot of loss catching up with us in different ways that still hurt our hearts, sure. It was everything else as well. All the pieces and parts that add up and color our days. Which, I guess...

Is just what normal looks like around here.

🙂

[pinespittinink]

My eyes lift when someone swings into a seat on my right, only a single stool left separating us at the bar. The man looks around my own age, hugging his early twenties, but he wears it better than I do, the handsome beige of his suit crinkling at his shoulders. His hair is clean cut and sandy, like the golden amber of the plains before the city, shining beneath the sun, and I nurse the cold glass of my lemonade as the man leans one forearm with casual ease on the counter, ordering a sidecar from the bartender.

My gaze drifts back toward him as I work on my sandwich, covert glances that are not covert enough as the man gets his drink, picking the citrus garnish off the glass and tending the orange segment from the peel with his teeth. I busy myself with swallowing as the man glances over at me, keeping my head bent toward the grain of the bar.

“Got your eye on something, stranger?” the man says. “I’m afraid I’m taken.”

🎭 The Great Glavenisean Theater 🥂

I’m currently revising my most recent chapters (right on the 40k mark, of course), but hopefully I’ll be cresting this hurdle soon! I love working on this story and cannot WAIT to share more of it as I can 👀✨

[yuputkaphoto]

Crest Theatre

[avocadolaw]

John Wick……

[brewed-pangolin]

Tailgate Movie Night

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

Synopsis: You and Soap take advantage of a warm summer's night to hit the drive-in. Yet halfway through the film, your attention gets pulled to a more tranquil scene before you.

Warnings: None. Fluffs galore.

You couldn’t have asked for a better night if you begged for it. The warm summer air cooled with a gentle breeze that came in the moment the sun descended below the distant horizon. A crystal clear night. The dark, black expanse of the sky blanketed in countless stars, so many you were unable to discern the distinct formation of your favorite constellations within them.

And popcorn. So. much. Popcorn.

As you made your way through the vast jungle of parked cars, you let your mind wander and take in the sights and sounds around you.

The endless parade of movie goers lining up at the concession stand.

A series of high-pitched screams of children scurrying around the grass laden parking lot.

And the delicious aroma of salted butter filling your sinuses as you made your way back to your parking spot. Needing both hands to cradle the massive paper bag of popcorn your lover always insisted on during movie nights.

And you obliged, as always. Movie theater popcorn was, after all, his guilty pleasure. And you were certainly not going to deny Soap MacTavish of his most prized culinary obsession.

As you continued to meander through the last line of parked cars, your eyes finally caught sight of Soap’s other most prized obsession; his 4Runner.

Your lips involuntarily curled into a smile as you watched him make the last-minute touches to the back of the compartment. Transforming a typical cargo hold into a full-blown comforting sanctuary.

Built in air mattress. Pillows set up against the backseat and sides of the trunk. And a plethora of blankest set out at your disposal. In other words, perfect.

“Lookin’ good, Johnny,” you called out with a grin permanently etched onto your lips.

“Aye. Jus’ need one more thing,” Soap replied, reaching over the backseat to grab the cooler and a six pack of Irn Bru.

“You splurgin’ tonight. Aren’t ya, love?”

“I earned it, lass. Got the botched crest to prove it,” he answered with a head tilt and a smirk.

The chunk of hair missing from his distinctive mohawk more visible in the dim light and the peach fuzz of new hair growth just beginning to cover the scar left by the grazed bullet.

“It’s an interesting look, Soap. Got a bit of a, I don’t know, Stegosaurus vibe to it.”

“Shut it, lass.”

“Why don’t you just shave it?”

Soap fell silent. Immediately shooting you a playfully repulsed glare and grabbing at the immense bag of popcorn from your hands.

“Away n’ biel yer heid.”

“Yeah. Fuck you too, babe.” You smiled brightly back at him, climbing into the back to take your place snuggled up next to him.

Not even thirty minutes into the movie, you reached over into the giant bag of popcorn nestled between you and found it to be nearly completely empty. Cupping a few straggling upopped kernels into your hand, you glanced over and took in the blissful sight before you.

Soap MacTavish. Your Johnny. Fast asleep against the pillow next to you.

In normal circumstances, you would jab into his side and rile him up to keep him awake. But now, with how peaceful he looked, you wouldn’t dare stir him from his whimsical slumber.

Instead, you turned your attention from the film on the oversized outdoor screen to the tranquil scene of calmness beside you. Lightly tracing your fingers along the top of his scalp as you laid on your side, ever so slowly running your fingers through the remnants of his mohawk as he breathed steadily within the grip of deep sleep.

Soap always had trouble sleeping at night. Whether it be from the nightmarish memories of his previous deployments, or new found fears he had only just begun to conjure up within his mind, sleep always seemed to perpetually dance around taunt him, no matter how hard he tried to give in.

But here, in the back of his 4Runner and amongst a crowd of movie goers and intricate white noise, he could find peace. And you’d be damned if you did anything to take that away from him.

You felt a slight tinge of embarrassment at how easily you fell in love with watching him sleep. And guilty, a sense that somehow you were almost stealing these precious moments of rest from him. Taking advantage of his unconscious vulnerability for your own selfish need to witness and cache these serene moments for yourself.

And you did.

As the dim light of the drive-in danced across his dreamlike expression, you shifted all focus and attention from the film to bask in the tranquility that was him.

Laying your head on his chest to lose yourself in the rhythmic cadence of his heart. A gentle smile curling into your lips as you felt the groggy movement of his arm behind you, pulling you in closer with a sleepy groan.

The world slowly began to melt away as you both enjoyed the closeness of one another. Low, rumbling vibrations of the films soundtrack rolling through the hull of the vehicle, eliciting a muffled giggle as your mind recalled a more robust vibration Soap preferred in the back of his 4Runner.

"What's s'funny, hen?" Soap managed through a drowsy whisper. Tilting his chin down to tenderly kiss the top of your forehead.

"Nothin'. Just enjoying the moment, love."

"Mhmm. Yer a terrible liar, lass."

Your smile widened, looking up to meet the cerulean fire of his eyes draped behind heavy lids. His signature mischievous grin telling all you needed to know about his full intentions for the night.

And you were more than happy to put on a show for him. Appreciating his decision to park in the back as you both created your own soundtrack for the night.

4Runner Wingman Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @d3athtr4psworld @punishmepunisher @jynxmirage @homicidal-slvt @glitterypirateduck @mykneeshurt @astraluminaaa @shotmrmiller @writeforfandoms @obligatoryghoststare @haurasha @havoc973 @macravishedbymactavish @ang3lc @luismickydees

[leiawritesstories]

The First Concert

Rowaelin Month 2024, Day 16: Opening of the Royal Theater (canon) @rowaelinscourt

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: none!

posted late bc college lol. enjoy!!

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

The morning of the opening of the Royal Theater of Terrasen dawned bright and sunny, clear skies and a crisp chill in the autumn air. The queen had been restless, and as the sun crested the mountains in the east, she stood on her balcony, silk robe wrapped loosely around her frame, and watched the dawn paint the sky in hues of rose. 

You’re awake early. Her mate’s sleepy rumble drifted across her mind. 

Couldn’t stay asleep. 

Footsteps padded across the tiled floor, and it was only a moment before warm, thickly muscled arms banded around Aelin’s waist. It will be a good day.

She leaned back into his embrace. How can you be so sure?

Because our people love you, and they love what you have done for them. Rowan kissed the top of her head. Besides, if you get bored of shaking hands, I know you had a private box built. 

Naughty buzzard. With a half-smirk, she turned to face him, drinking in the sight of his calmness, so rare in the years they had spent together. “I just want it to go well,” she said, quietly. 

Unconsciously, his fingers traced the wings inked across her back. “It will,” he promised. 

“Good.” She pressed her lips to his, lingering in the kiss for a long, sweet moment. “When did you get all the optimism?” 

“When the world ran out of crazy-ass demons trying to kill us all.” Rowan’s tone was completely deadpan. 

Aelin laughed, bright and clear as the Orynth sky. I love you, Ro.

I love you too, Fireheart.

~

Aelin had insisted on coordinating finery for the evening, reveling in Rowan’s suppressed groan when she brought out the linen shirt and emerald silk jacket with silver embroidery that she’d had made for him. He grumbled, but he put on the fine clothes, and she stunned him speechless with her emerald silk dress, its cuffs and hem detailed with the same silver thread, the back a plunging V that dipped nearly to her hips, revealing her tattoos in all their glory. The kingsflame crown sat atop her head, its weight light but solid, grounding the queen in the solemnity of her position. 

“Beautiful,” Rowan murmured, touching his lips to the back of her neck. 

She sucked in a gasp, sparks climbing her spine at the subtle teasing. “Later, my love.” 

He smirked and linked his hand with hers, thumb tracing the obnoxiously large emerald on her wedding band. “As my queen commands.” Together, they ascended the cobblestone steps that led to the entrance of the Royal Theater, exchanging smiles and greetings with the crowd of Orynth’s residents that had gathered for the opening concert. 

At the top of the steps, a forest-green carpet had been rolled out, a matching ribbon looped across the handles of the soaring mahogany double doors of the entrance. Aelin’s court waited there, beaming proudly at the queen who had brought the theater back to its home, and she felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes at the sheer joy on her family’s faces. 

Even Lorcan was…not scowling, though she supposed that had more to do with Elide than the theater. 

Aelin and Rowan stopped beside their court, and with a twist of her hand, flames curled around the prongs of her crown, adorning the symbol of Terrasen, and a twin circlet of fire wove around her mate’s brow. Aelin of the Wildfire, the crowd murmured, a soft rumble of support for their queen. She smiled. “My beloved people!” She kept hold of Rowan’s hand, drawing her strength from him lest she be overcome with emotion. “Welcome back to the Royal Theater of Terrasen!” She pinched her first two fingers together, and a fine ribbon of flame sliced neatly through the ribbon on the doors. Rowan spun out a cool northern wind, and it wrapped around the door handles and tugged them open to the people. 

And they walked into the theater, footsteps falling on plush carpet and polished hardwood, eyes wide at the marble sculptures and gilded frescoes worked into and across the walls and vaulted ceilings. Tales of their beautiful nation—from Brannon to Gavin and Elena all the way down to Rhoe and Evalin, to Orlon, to Aelin. She had protested at first when the artists showed her the sketches, saying she did not need to be pictured all over the walls, but Rowan was…very convincing. 

Overhead, a bell sounded, calling the people into the theater itself, and they slowly filed in, filling the emerald velvet seats that lined the floor and the galleries and the balconies curving around the massive stage. The thick stage curtains were drawn back for the arched tiers of chairs that filled the stage floor, and as the members of the symphony walked onstage, applause rippled up in waves from the crowd. From the royal box, which Rowan had specifically situated in the third tier of balcony boxes on stage left, Aelin was beaming as she applauded. 

The conductor appeared to joyous applause, and he bowed to the audience and to the queen before he stepped onto his podium, tuned the orchestra, and, with a flourish of his baton, launched into the opening chords of the Stygian Suite. Aelin’s hand flew to her mouth, and the tears that had been hovering behind her composure all evening broke free, dripping soundlessly down her face. 

Rowan’s hand splayed on her thigh, warm and firm and reassuring. Are you alright?

It’s…it’s been twenty years since this music was played. In her glassy eyes, he saw a reflection of the child she had been when she snuck into the opera house in Rifthold to hear the symphony, and a reflection of the young woman who had brought the music to life on the keys of a forgotten pianoforte on a spring afternoon. Did you know?

Perhaps. She flicked him a glance, and he chuckled softly. Yes. I asked the conductor if he could prepare this piece for the opening. For you.

The music swelled to a crescendo, the notes bursting into a waterfall of descending arpeggios that crested and swept through the theater like water over the audience. As the final triumphant chords echoed around the vaulted ceiling, Aelin brought her hands together and rose to her feet, leading the standing ovation with tears still tracked down her cheeks. 

She waited for a long while before she left the box, heading down the stairs to greet the orchestra along with the rest of the audience. Most of them had already gone home, and Aelin spoke gratefully to the conductor, wiping the tears from her face. He shook her hands eagerly and introduced her to the symphony members, who were a mix of awestruck and overwhelmed at the appearance and support of the queen. 

“And we have a few particularly special members,” the conductor continued. “You see, Your Majesty, these five were part of the last ensemble to perform this piece—the orchestra that vanished. Five of them made it through the war and chose to come to Terrasen.” 

Aelin’s throat thickened. “I cannot possibly express how much that means,” she choked out. “Thank you. Thank you, so very much.” 

One of the symphony members, a woman with dark hair shot through with silver, set down her violin and took the queen’s hands. “And we can’t thank you enough, my queen, for welcoming us home to Terrasen. For giving us a new home.” 

Aelin could only nod wordlessly, and she was silent all the way back to the palace, overcome with emotion from the performance and the people who had created it. Tucked into bed behind her, sensing the swirling of her mind, Rowan linked his fingers with hers. 

For you, Fireheart. All of it is for you.

~~~

TAGS:

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@mariaofdoranelle

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

@renxzs

@anarchiii

@fauna-flora11

@cynthiesjmxazrielslover

[secret-smut-sideblog]

What Kind Of Man

Gale x F! Tav

(AA break up series part 6)

18+ masturbation (f!), voyeurism, depictions of trauma/abuse, jealousy, love triangle dynamics (kinda), telepathy, tenderness, breast worship (f!), fingering (f!), coming in pants (m!), p-in-v, Gale being the sweetest man alive

The Ascendant watching her every move, Tav is more than happy to see her favorite wizard. With crimson eyes following, he plans to show her an intimate day out, possibly more...

Masterlist, Prev Chapter

-

Her eyes were first drawn to the open window, then searched her neck with urgent fingers.

Only the healing bite.

A great swell of joy in her chest.

It had worked.

A stupid and risky test, she knew, but she had to be sure.

Well, the fact that she woke up in Jaheira's spare room and not the Crimson Castle was enough proof. But still.

Except that also meant...

She felt between her legs and was met with telltale wetness.

Her dream had been real too.

She wanted to be much more incensed than she was, heat crawling to her cheeks. But her body had been nothing but traitorous lately.

She could still smell him on the sheets, and shamefully brought them to her face, breathing in deeply.

This wasn't going to go away until she gave in to it, was it?

Her hand trailed down her front, meeting the slick he had already pulled from her.

She closed her eyes and fell into her mind, the heady scent of him wrapping around her.

Her memory took over, her hand pantomiming his movements. How he would thread the pleasure from her before, when he still loved her. Or did a convincing facade of it.

Since all that had passed in her years of captivity, she had come to cast doubts. Had it been one long trick? Surely not. Surely...

Suddenly aware of eyes on her she looked to the window. A raven was watching her far too intently.

Oh it was going to be like this then?

She stared back, hand still working. Her eyes a mix of defiance and desire.

She arched her back up, eyes closing again. Knowing he was watching making her need it more. Angling her leg up, the sheet falling away. Her brow furrowing in concentrated pleasure. Nearly there.

One more memory shot across the theater of her closed eyes. His lidded crimson eyes staring up from between her legs. Pale hands gripping her open thighs, the veins taut, knuckles white. The deep moan that he had pushed into her.

She crested over the edge, writhing under her own hand. Gasping out. The delicious ache in her pelvis clenching down into waves of pleasure that pulsed out into her whole body.

Her head fell back, panting. Looking over to the window again to see that the raven was now standing on the dresser. It's wide black eyes boring into her.

"Cute," She chided, sitting up. "You haven't seemed interested in my needs in a long time. Thought voyeurism would be below you, Lord Ancunin."

She stood and reached for the dress Jaheira had draped over the back of the side chair.

"If you're going to watch me fuck myself at least have the decency to show your face."

The raven bristled at that and glared at her with too human of anger. It took off out the window with a few hard flaps of its wings.

She felt a petty thrill in her chest. Went to the window and latched it shut and pulled the curtains decisively.

Fuck you too.

She descended down the stairs, smoothing her hands down the soft linen. She hadn't worn a dress in years, but this one did suit her. A deep royal blue, a sweetheart neckline held up by thin straps, one surprisingly high slit up the side. Falling to her ankles.

"Jaheira," She called as she turned the corner down to the next landing. "Where did you even get thi-"

A familiar back was at the foyer, laughing at Fig's antics. Soft waves of dark hair, wide shoulders hugged in a deep purple tunic.

"Gale?" She asked, pure shock striking her face.

"And there she is," He called, turning to her. A wide smile beaming across his face. "The woman of the hour."

Completely overcome she wrapped her arms hard around his neck, leaping up into him. Wrapping her legs around his waist.

"Oh, my!" He laughed, off balance for a second but catching them both. Supporting her under her thighs. "What a warm welcome!"

"He insisted on coming to check that his magic had worked." Jaheira mock teased, smiling warmly at them.

"Guilty as charged." He laughed, leaning into her. One hand coming up to wrap around her back.

Quietly so only she could hear. "Are you okay?"

She nodded in the crook of his neck.

I'm so glad the magic held. This magic works on both of us.

He was speaking to her inside her mind, a warm feeling that caressed along the back of her skull.

"Well, Jaheira. Since the spell has been a success, I think some celebration is in order."

He patted her thigh playfully. "What do you say? Up for a little day trip?"

She released and landed gracefully on her feet. "A what?"

"Ah, don't tell me you've already forgotten the simple joys of this world. I have such a day planned!"

"Go on, cub. You're safe in the walls, I swear it." Jaheira urged with a knowing smirk.

Tav gave into a cheeky smile, biting her lip.

"Okay, you win." She looped her arm in his.

"Excellent." He sighed, a radiant smile lighting his face.

I've missed you.

They walked around Lower City, stopping in shops and chatting happily with one another. Both aware of many sets of eyes, man and animal alike, tracking them as they walked.

Their spoken conversation was light and playful, but the words shared between their minds held more weight.

If I had known... if I had stayed. Gods, Tav, I'm so sorry.

She squeezed his arm, pointing out a shop up the road.

No, you deserve to live your own life, Gale. I'm so proud of you for carving your own path. You're here now, and I'm so grateful.

She felt a great thrum of elation course from him, sending a shiver down her back.

Would this have been what sharing his blood would have been like? Surely not. She could not see him sharing anything like this with her. It would still be her, alone in her mind. But with a psionic collar around her neck.

You're drifting again. The kindness in his tone washed over her.

I know, I'm sorry. All of this has consumed my thoughts for months now.

Of course it has. That was no accusation.

But he knew she already knew.

You deserve a break, I think we can try. If just for a while.

The tears forming in her eyes juxtaposed to the playful conversation they upheld on the outside. His hand coming up to subtly stabilize her on her lower back. Asking the shopkeep how much for another dress without missing a beat.

They stepped back out onto the street, a small paper bag on her curved arm.

Can you see all of my thoughts? She asked.

No, only what you want to show me.

Did she want to show him? She fidgeted with the edge of the bag. Decided, yes. She needed to share this.

Can I show you? The unspoken context reaching him in the grip of terror that held her belly.

He led them to under the canopy of a tree, pulling her gently to sit with him. Wrapping his arm loosely around her waist.

Show me.

She took a sharp breath in and opened her mind to him.

All the years, the longing, the grief, the fear. Flashes of pale hands, the bite of metal, his voice cutting and bellowing. The endless cold nights buckled on the floor, frigid water holding her knees. The days he would seem to 'forgive' her, taking her back into his embrace. That those nights hurt far worse than the punishment, the cold. Never lasting.

It all flowed from her in a great vicious stream. She cut it off as the pain soon got too overwhelming.

He gripped her back, his breath gasping. Eyes screwed shut. Face cringing in pain.

I'm sorry, that was too much. She reached out and softly stroked his cheek.

His eyes opened, staring into her in abject horror. Mouth held open in unspoken words.

"Tav, I had no idea. That it was that bad. I-"

She shook her head, wiping away a tear that escaped his warm brown eyes.

"Isn't it mad, that I considered staying?" She sighed, finally admitting it to herself.

I loved him too much.

Gale leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. Holding her upper arms in both hands.

Not speaking by mouth or mind but enveloping her in his warmth, a deep consoling wave that encircled her entirely.

She was so lost in it that she didn't feel a shadow fall over them.

"Well, what a surprise."

Like a phantom pulled from her unleashed memory, his voice sent a shock of terror through her.

She felt a deep rage radiate from Gale, but his face remained impartial.

"Ah, the Lord Ancunin. How strange, seeing you slumming in the Lower City."

Astarion sneered, hand coming to rest on his hip. Draped in fineries far too extravagant for this meeting. Examining his fingernails like this was the most disinteresting thing in the world.

"Well, it would do no good to remain impartial to the affairs of those less fortunate." Each of his words a pointed bite. Veiled threats under each inflection.

Gale stood, his hand leading her up as well. Subtly standing in front of her.

"And what brings you to this street, so early in the morning? Surely not idle gossip." There was a veiled goading in his voice.

What are you doing?

He can't touch us. You're safe.

She could feel it then washing over her, he was trying to make him angry. Jealous.

This was a bad idea, but she couldn't deny the petty satisfaction that flitted through her.

Gale felt it too, a sly smile dancing along his lips.

"Well, I heard," Astarion's voice cutting more. "That my dear old friend Gale was back in town. And with my consort on his arm. Strange, isn't it?" His words still measured, but his eyes flaring with anger.

"Truly. Considering that Tav is her own person. Shoddy informants you've got there."

Astarion smiled like a knife, his eyes sliding over to her.

She stared back, standing tall. Unwavering.

"Unless you want something more Your Highness, Gale and I are going to be off."

A wave of pride from Gale washed over her. He placed his hand on the small of her back again, smiling down at her like she rose the sun.

She could practically feel a wave of heat coming off of Astarion when his hand touched her back. Breathing hard through his nose.

"Well, old friend. As my lovely companion has said, we simply must be off." Turning to fully face her, as if the rage shaken shadow glaring them down wasn't important. "Shall we?"

Come back with me to my tower?

She smiled back up at him, his brown eyes all she needed to see.

"Let's."

He pulled her close, bracing her. Turning to wave at Astarion, and with a snap of his fingers, they were gone.

When they rematerialized in front of a warm fireplace she laughed.

"Oh Gods, that was incredibly risky." She tried to chide, but only laughed harder.

"I know, I know. I'm a petty man." He smiled. "I just wanted to put him in his place, just one time."

He held her face so softly. "I'm so proud of you, that was a lot of courage you showed back there."

She leaned into his hand, closing her eyes.

Can we keep talking like this? She asked.

It felt more intimate, and she was craving that.

Of course. He smiled down at her.

I was so afraid for so long. It feels good to be brave.

Looking up into his eyes.

He smiled down at her. Bravery is not the absence of fear. It is feeling the fear and pushing past it. The fear is the strength.

His fingers tracing her cheek. You are the bravest person I know, Tav. It's an honor to know you, to share time with you.

She leaned up, overcome. Sliding her lips into his.

She felt his surprise, then a deep desire pulling over him.

He kissed back with restrained passion. Cupping her face, moaning softly.

She gripped the front of his tunic, pushing her need into him. She wanted to be lost. To feel held again.

He felt her desire and led her down onto the plush rug, his warm hands exploring her.

He kissed at her neck, his stubble scratching her in the best way. Fingers pulling on the strap of her dress in question.

She pushed her approval into him.

Please, more.

He groaned in the back of his throat, pulling the straps down. Her breasts springing free.

She opened her legs and urged him further between them.

He sucked and kissed at the tender skin of her throat. Sending deep pleasure through her, radiating down between her legs.

She opened her mind to him again, showing him the feelings he was sending through her.

He moaned, shivering against her.

She directed his head down, telling him where she needed him.

He nodded, breathing heavily. Kissing along her clavicle, the curve of the top of her breast.

When his mouth finally reached her peak, she choked out a moan. Head falling back.

Her hips thrusted up with the rhythm of his tongue. Whimpering in the back of her throat, his pulsing wet strokes playing her like a harp.

When he nibbled down on the hard mound, she twisted under him. A panting cry leaving her lips.

She directed his hand to the slit in her dress, urging.

He nearly growled, fingers pushing under the fabric. Finding her bare cunt with a deep groan.

Both of them were beyond words, but she could feel his strike of pleasure at her lack of underclothes.

He pushed into her clit with his fingers in small questioning circles. Searching for the rhythm she needed.

She showed his hand the way with her mind, the buttons that made her scream.

He took to it immediately, the fast circular strokes already committed to his movements. She cried out, the perfect agony making her hips rise.

His mouth still worshipping her breasts, suckling hard circles into her engorged peaks. Hand gripping her hip, keeping her squirming body in place.

His long fingers plunging into her, curling up. Thumb rubbing hard into her clit.

Gods he was good, a fast learner.

She was a writhing mess beneath him, panting and mewling. Gripping his upper arm, his back. Digging her nails in.

She was so close, her limbs tingling in warning.

Opening her mind to him again, so he could ride it out with her.

Her body arched up, a strangled scream in her throat. It crashed over her in suffocating waves. The most devine drowning, ripping up through her pelvis and pulling the whole world down from her. There was nothing but this, an endless crashing ecstasy. She gripped onto him like a lifeline. Her mouth open, the water rushing in.

She felt him be overcome by it, gasping and shaking over her. Felt his own release, the heat radiating up from his pelvis. A deep pull from behind his navel, the wrenching pleasure as he spilled inside his trousers. Moaning out her name.

They both collapsed, their limbs tangled into each other. Breathing in a heaving tandem.

He held onto her, lifting under her thighs. Lifting her against his chest and walking her to the bed.

"Oh, there was a bed there?" She smiled, embarrassed.

He laughed. "I didn't want to spoil the moment."

He layed her back gently. Pulling his soiled clothes off, leaving them in a pile on the floor.

"Can you do mine too?" She asked, breath caught at the sight of him. Turning so he could get to the zipper.

He pulled it down and lifted the dress off of her with sure hands.

He leaned forward and kissed at the curve of her neck, pulling her hair over her shoulder.

You are so beautiful. A goddess in the flesh.

She smiled, pulling his hands around her front. Leading them to cup her breasts.

He groaned in the back of his throat, straddled around her back. Kneading her gently in his large hands. His length hardening against the base of her spine.

I want you inside me. She whispered to him.

He had seen that she hadn't taken another man in her since him. The prospect always too painful.

He paused, could feel his deep desire mixed with concerned apprehension.

You're sure?

Yes. I trust you. Please take him out of me.

He held her to him, burying his face into her shoulder. All his warmth pouring into her like a breath she breathed with him.

She turned and pulled him over her, kissing him as he braced himself next to her head.

A blue light began to swirl around them in heady circles.

She looped her ankles around his lower back, pulling him down to her. Moaning into their kiss as his length rubbed against her clit.

He panted into the kiss, pulling back to look at her with heavy lidded eyes.

She nodded, arcing her fingernails through his hair. Feeling the trail of pleasure that it left along his head.

He aligned below her and with one last look of adoration, slowly pushed inside her.

She closed her eyes, head falling back. Her body already gripping him, pulling him further in.

He hissed through his teeth, bracing his hand next to her waist. A gentle tremor pulling through him. Pushing until they were flush with one another.

He paused, giving both of them time to adjust.

He opened his mind to her, showing her how her cunt felt around him. A tight velvet heat, the ridges of muscle. How her come from earlier had slipped him inside with welcome.

"Wow," She marveled quietly.

"Yeah," He laughed reverently.

She then felt the overwhelming gratefulness he sent to her. For allowing him this, for trusting him.

"Please fuck me, Gale." She whispered.

He slowly began to thrust into her, head falling onto her chest. Already overcome.

She felt so full, arching her hips up to meet him. His cock sliding against the spot that made her see white.

"Oh Gods," She whimpered, holding his face to hers. Kissing him in short desperate pulses.

The slow pace was perfect, her body warming up. Trying to stay here, in this moment.

A flash of a pale hand holding her throat.

She gasped, freezing.

Gale willed her eyes to his. Holding her chin gently.

You're here. You're safe. You're right here with me.

She forced her mind back, his deep brown eyes an anchor.

She kissed him again, a small whimper in the back of her throat.

He melded into the kiss, hand coming down to rub into her clit.

She moaned into him, the fullness, the stroke into her g-spot, the working of his hands. Sending her nearer and nearer.

His pleasure washed over her, from his body and from what he was doing for her. The pleasure for her being the more powerful of the two.

Her head falling back, she broke away from the kiss, her legs starting to shake. Her second undoing about to unfold inside her.

"Oh Gods," She cried, fisting the sheets as it struck. Clenching down hard, the pleasure taking her apart. Back arching up. He took her peak into his mouth as her chest came up, sending another wave through her. Nearly shrieking, gripping his back so hard, she was sure she was drawing blood.

He spilled inside her, her orgasm pulling him hard into his own end. He moaned low and fast as her contractions wrenched him for all he was worth. His face twisting up in deep pleasure.

He panted into her, both of them still joined. Slowing. She softly scratched up and down his back. He nearly purred, head resting on her chest.

"Please stay the night." He murmured, holding her to him.

"Of course." She whispered, carding through his hair, pulling it from his face.

He was asleep on her in minutes.

She woke with arms around her. An unfamiliar feeling. The night before feeling like the most beautiful dream.

She turned in his arms, looking deeply at him.

Hair all mussed, mouth slightly open. Those sweet brown eyes closed, long lashes.

She leaned up and kissed him softly. A deep adoration and gratitude holding her heart.

She gave him two more, for good luck, then maneuvered carefully out of his arms.

She slipped back into her dress, folding the one he had bought for her carefully over her arm. Regretted not trying it on for him.

She looked over at him one last time and felt a great longing.

Picking up a small lock of her hair she braided it and tied it with the ribbon from the gift wrap on the dress. Cutting it with a pair of scissors on his desk and leaving it next to him.

Thank you, Gale. I'll see you again, soon.

She saw him smile in his sleep, turning over onto his back.

She slipped her boots on as she retreated from his chambers. The little Tressym appraising her warmly from the banister.

"Hi Tara, can you send me back to the Selune Outpost? There's someone I need to see."

~

Part 7

[reikorun]

KlubOutside Q&A 401-500 [Translation]

Translated by @reikorun

Q401.

2022.10.24

I'd like to ask you a question about BTW! Given that "Bruno" means "bull" (*buru = bull in Japanese) and the crest which represents "The Inks" is also reminiscent of Taurus, are you perhaps using the zodiac constellations as a reference for the names of characters?

A401.

No, that's not the inspiration. I didn't even consider the "bull" in "Bruno"…. Now that you've brought it up, it does appear as though I used that as source material, LOL.

Q402.

2022.10.31

It is said that the Gotei 13 constitutes just under 3000 people, but with this many Shinigami, is it possible that this can result in Zanpakutō with the same names? Also, will it ever have the same name as a Zanpakutō that existed in the past?

A402.

No two Zanpakutō can ever hold the same name in the same era. It may, however, share the same name as a Zanpakutō from the past.

Q403.

2022.10.31

What is the name of Ryūken's mother?

A403.

I have passed on background details to anime staff so depending on the composition of the story, it may appear in the anime.

Q404.

2022.10.31

Do you have a favorite character among the Dragon Quest heroines? I like Jessica.

A404.

I guess the childhood friend from Dragon Quest 4….

Q405.

2022.11.07

I have a question. Is the horizontal line running across Hisagi's nose a tattoo or tape…? In the anime, it was drawn to look very tape-like, but the one Kubo-sensei drew in color on the cover of the novel, for instance, is expressed with the same coloring as his "69" tattoo, so personally I assumed the anime turned it into something that was tape-like for a certain reason, but is it in fact a tattoo?

A405.

Did it really end up looking like tape…? It's a tattoo.

Q406.

2022.11.07

What is your favorite traditional Japanese sweet? Alternatively maybe I can ask, do you prefer sweet or salty?

A406.

I like sweet foods more, and I like almost all traditional Japanese confectionery made with Tsubuan (*chunky sweet red bean paste).

Q407.

2022.11.07

Will Ichika's Zanpakutō turn out to be Mirokumaru, the same one owned by Senna?

A407.

That won't happen. They're two different people and Mirokumaru isn't a name I came up with.

Q408.

2022.11.14

The certificate of residence bonus was wonderful! I'm a huge fan of the actual contents of course, but the red seal which secured the envelope and the "KOS" design representing the name of this fanclub is so cool. 

A408.

This was Ishino-san's design proposal. Isn't it great?

Q409.

2022.11.14

About the Shiba siblings and Ichigo, are they cousins?

A409.

That's how it is.

Q410.

2022.11.14

The Granz brothers share the same birthday, height and weight, but are they considered twins?

A410.

They are.

Q411.

2022.11.21

What kind of dog is Uni-chan?

A411.

Pomeranian.

Q412.

2022.11.21

I would like to learn more about the mechanics of Shunpo. Unlike teleportation, if you come under attack while moving, will the attack successfully land?

A412.

If it can keep up with the movement speed, the attack will land.

Q413.

2022.11.21

In volumes 15 and 32, Hitsugaya Tōshirō is seen making fun of Hinamori, calling her "bedwetter Momo", I believe this indicates that he's old enough to remember Hinamori from her early childhood. In the general overview of the Gotei 13 from "KaraBuri+", it's mentioned that his current concerns include the sluggish rate of his growth. Furthermore, in volume 26, Hinamori says "I don't need to be given advice about growing by Hitsugaya-kun!!" Judging by this, it seems that Hitsugaya has been experiencing a longer period of halted physical growth compared to others, however is it possible that he is older than Hinamori?

A413.

He's older.

Q414.

2022.11.28

I like the atmosphere of Soul Society's architecture. Are there any places you used as reference?

A414.

Other than Louis Kahn and Oscar Niemeyer which I mentioned in a previous Q&A, I like Brutalist architecture and have been aided by, or rather, influenced by the Royal National Theater in England, Corbusier's chapel in Ronchamp and the Trinity Church in Vienna to name just a few. Additionally, I also like the residence of Luis Barragán.

Q415.

2022.11.28

In chapter 302 of volume 34, "Pride on the Blade",  specifically on the double page spread where Byakuya says "because you aimed your blade at my pride", Rukia is drawn pressing a sword against her own neck through Zommari's ability. However, Rukia is seen clasping Senbonzakura rather than her own sword, a fact that has no direct relevance to the contents of the main storyline. Did Kubo-sensei draw it that way because you wanted to convey something? 

A415.

I commented on this at the BLEACH exhibition.

Q416.

2022.11.28

Since assuming the role of Captain, did none of Rukia's comrades tease her by calling her "Captain Abarai"? I'm curious if she's being called "Captain" in the first place, considering that the nickname "Kuchiki" has become commonplace among those around her. 

A416.

Shunsui immediately began addressing her as "Captain", so calling her by the title of “Captain” very quickly caught on among everyone else. Shunsui has always been the type that would make an effort to immediately call a newly appointed Captain by their title and help them get used to the new environment quickly.

Q417.

2022.12.05

Sensei, is there a character from BLEACH that you would like to see made into a figurine, or do you have a favorite among those that already exist?

A417.

I think it would be great if a figurine of a scantily clad female character was released. If they have big boobs then anyone will do.

Q418.

2022.12.05

The following information has been recorded on Wikipedia regarding Ichigo's Zangetsu after the conclusion of the series:

"On top of being able to fight by choosing between single blade style and dual blade style while in Shikai (through changes to Reiatsu), while in Bankai, Tensa Zangetsu can be used in either a katana state (a combination of Tensa Zangetsu from the beginning and middle stages of the series), or in a large sword state (after special training with Urahara Kisuke and Hyōsube Ichibē of the Zero Division respectively)." Is this accurate?

A418.

Let's refer to official source material, not the wiki.

Q419.

2022.12.05

In the scene where Kenpachi meets Yachiru, Zaraki asks her "where did you come from?" Yachiru touches Zaraki's Zanpakutō, was this foreshadowing that Yachiru = Nozarashi?

A419.

Since I've already talked about Yachiru here, I can give you an answer: yes, you are correct.

Q420.

2022.12.12

Regarding the advertising slogans on the character cover art at the time of the Jump magazine publication, in addition to the catchphrases which accompanied the Captain & Vice-Captain cover art illustrations that were printed in the art book "All Colour But The Black" and the Jump special issues, are they created by Kubo-sensei rather than the editor? Are there also any other slogans devised by Kubo-sensei that were not included in said cases?

A420.

My editor writes all the slogans. The editor who did the work around the Captain and Vice Captain title pages, is Nakano-san who is currently the editor-in-chief of Jump.

Q421.

2022.12.12

Please tell us the gender of both Senjumaru and Nianzol.

A421.

Senjumaru is a woman and Nianzol is a man.

Q422.

2022.12.12

Where in the body is the location of the "Saketsu" and "Hakusui", often referred to as "the heart of a Shinigami"?

A422.

In the context of acupuncture points, I imagine that the Saketsu is the equivalent of "Jade Hall", and Hakusui is around the "Heavenly Pivot". ×[1]

Q423.

2022.12.19

What was the most stressful event in your life?

A423.

I guess it was when I first appeared on stage at Jump Festa. It was before the series had an anime adaptation, so there were only three of us: myself, my editor, and the female host, it was tough. I think it was at this time that I did my first ever autograph session.

Q424.

2022.12.19

If anything, it always bothered me to no end that there was a certain air about the BLEACH anime where it appears to be trying to make it look as though Ichigo and Rukia were in love with each other. How much did you tell the anime staff about your vision for the final landing spot of the original work?

A424.

I didn't tell them anything because no one asked me about it. Before the anime aired I was only told “the entirety of the Soul Society arc should be covered in one year”, so I thought "oh, the anime will end in a year." I can't remember very well whether or not the anime tried to turn Ichigo and Rukia into lovers.

Q425. 

2022.12.19

Akon's skin tone is painted in a different color between the Thousand-Year Blood War arc color pages and KaraBuri, is this something intentional? I remember his complexion being quiet pale, so it caught me by surprise to see him painted with some color in his cheeks in the Thousand-Year Blood War. 

A425.

At the beginning of TYBW, I used a color that gave him a bit more of a typical human complexion as it creates a contrast with Mayuri. Was the color choice really that dark…?

Q426.

2022.12.26

Has Kubo-sensei checked the lines in the English-language edition of BLEACH? Are the nuances and so on reflected in the English translation?

A426.

I like the English language, but it's not like I can read it so I don't check them.

Q427.

2022.12.26

Please tell us the intonation of the name "Kazui"! 

A427.

It's the same as the intonation of "atsugi" (*Japanese for warm clothes). The same with "kabuki" (*eccentric), or "kasumi" (*haze).

Q428.

2022.12.26

Who is your favorite member among the Bambies?

A428.

I like all the Bambies.

Q429.

2023.01.02

Is Byakuya affectionate towards Ichika?

A429.

Very much so.

Q430.

2023.01.02

Is the entire 5th Division barracks overflowing with items of Hirako Shinji's leisurely pursuits?

A430.

At present, It is being extensively renovated to suit Hirako's tastes.

Q431.

2023.01.02

A question regarding Findorr. During his conversation with Hisagi, the way in which there is a repeated exchange of questions and answers, until finally Findorr makes a serious attempt at his life after an incorrect answer is given, in addition to Pinza Aguda, it reminded me of the Yōkai Kanibōzu. I was wondering if that's where sensei also developed his ideas from.

A431. 

When I looked it up, it turned out there is indeed such a Yōkai! That wasn't the source of my inspiration, but I love Yōkai so I'm glad to have learned about one I had no idea existed.

Q432.

2023.01.09

I love BLEACH so much that I want a T-Point card or some other kind of point redemption card with a BLEACH design on it! Where can I ask to have my suggestion considered!?

A432.

This question was sent before the art exhibition, but I'm glad to say the cards were made available!

Q433.

2023.01.09

All four of the Seireimon Gatekeepers have gigantic bodies, but I wonder if they have increased in size naturally or if they are using a kind of enhancement drug or something in order to serve as Gatekeepers.

A433.

Being a Gatekeeper of the Seireimon is an occupation only held by those who possess a huge physique on an exceptional scale.

Q434.

2023.01.09

Ichigo's occupation was revealed to be a translator, but what languages does he translate?

A434.

He does English to Japanese translation.

Q435.

2023.01.16

If Shinigami had a driver's license, who would you say is the best driver and who is the worst?

A435.

I suppose it depends on what measure of skill we use, but if we're talking about safe driving, then it's Isane, if it's about mastery, then it's Kisuke, as for those who are bad at driving… I get the feeling that a lot of them would be quite bad…. Kenpachi would probably crash first….

Q436.

2023.01.16

I think the Espada, Nnoitra Gilga, is an Arrancar who embodies an abundance of praying mantis elements, both in terms of his Zanpakutō name and its release call, but also in terms of his personality which appears to fit the idiom "praying mantis's axe" (*courageous but doomed resistance). The other day, a program called "Amazing Insects!" featuring Kagawa Teruyuki-san was being rebroadcast on TV, and I learned about a praying mantis called "Peruvian shield mantis" which is characterized by its round thorax. Is this praying mantis the original motif for the round part of his clothes behind his head?

A436.

When I searched it up, it really did resemble Nnoitra! Interesting way of looking at things but it's just a coincidence. 

Q437.

2023.01.16

It seems that Yammy's Fracción Kukkapūro was left in the spot where Yammy died, but was he safe when the Quincy launched their assault in the final arc? 

A437.

He's safe. Well, to be honest, if you had asked me this before I got my dog Uni, I would probably have said that he's dead…. But now, I can no longer bear to watch any form of entertainment where an animal dies, so Kukkapūro is fine.

Q438.

2023.01.23

The 'Shop' has goods such as T-shirts and art boards, but are there any plans to add a wider variety of other merchandise in the future? (Acrylic stands, for example.) Personally, I really want Yuyu-chan merch…!

A438.

There were quite a few acrylic stands released at the exhibition…. But it's true there aren't many Yuyu goods so I'll let my editor know! 

Q439.

2023.01.23

Sensei, although you draw BLEACH as a battle-themed manga, do you always bear in mind that it also has aspects of horror manga while writing it? I ask this question because I read the new one-shot and it reminded me of the consistent presence of horror elements which has been there since the beginning and that made me curious.

A439.

Wherever it was that I felt "it might be more interesting if it was slightly scary here", I would go ahead and draw it with a slight touch of eeriness. Though, I don't have any particular intention of drawing manga in a horror-like style. I'm not good with scary stuff. I can't handle scary stories or movies at all, but I'm fine with the ones I've drawn myself. 

Q440.

2023.01.23

Within the story of BLEACH, multiple anesthetic drugs were presented such as Shinten, Gaten and Hōten, but are drugs like Gaten and Hōten effective even on people with high Reiatsu?

A440.

That's correct. Out of those Shinten is the weakest, followed by Gaten, then Hōten which has the strongest effect and can even come to take effect on individuals who possess a powerful Reiatsu. 

Q441.

2023.01.30

Kubo-sensei, do you use BLEACH LINE stamps?

A441.

Deciding whether or not to use stamps from one's own work is a matter that varies among artists, but I'm the type who's too embarrassed to use them. My editor and my friends often use BLEACH stamps.

Q442.

2023.01.30

Did Kubo-sensei come up with the novel titles, like "The Honey Dish Rhapsody" and "Can't Fear Your Own World"? I'm especially interested in the "knot" from the title "We Do knot ALWAYS LOVE You" because it reminds me of Yumichika's line "it's much harder to tie than to untie."

A442.

"Can't ~" was suggested by Narita-san and I gave it the okay, the rest are titles I came up with. The "knot" from "We Do knot~" as you correctly pointed out, was extracted from Yumichika's line.

Q443.

2023.02.06

Sensei, does Orihime still work at the bakery? Or has she become a housewife and is occupied with raising her child?

A443.

By the time of the one-shot, Kazui has grown somewhat and Ichigo also has a job that allows him to stay at home a fair amount, so she works part-time at the bakery every now and then.

Q444.

2023.02.13

Do you have a favorite novel?

A444.

The first time I spontaneously thought "I love this~" was when I read Revolution No. 3 by Kaneshiro Kazuki.

Q445.

2023.02.20

I'd like to hear which character's lines gave you the most trouble to create so far.

A445.

I don't remember which lines gave me the most trouble because it's not the spoken lines that stand out but rather the plain explanatory narration.

Q446.

2023.02.27

What exactly did sensei do in order to improve his drawing skills? Did you do things like drawing rough construction lines, or did you try copying your favorite pictures?

A446.

Of course I tried drawing by imitating my favorite manga, but it was never something good enough to be called a 'copy'. I still don't know the proper way to draw construction lines.

Q447.

2023.02.27

When did Ichigo get his hair cut short? Was it Yuzu-chan who cut it for him at the time as well?

A447.

I haven't decided on when exactly he got it shortened, but after graduating from high school, Ichigo used to go to an ordinary hair salon. At the badgering of Yuzu who became a hairdresser, Ichigo now goes to the beauty salon where Yuzu works.  

Q448.

2023.03.06

The subtitles of chapter 129 and chapter 130, which were included in volume 15 of BLEACH, were titled "Etude of Transcendent Technique" when they were published in Jump magazine. Does Hinamori Momo's theme music comprise of "glass elevator", which was unveiled on the JET special website, in addition to the fourth étude "Mazeppa"? 

A448.

That is a title dedicated to Ichigo's training. When putting the chapters into a tankōbon, I thought the main focus here should be Hinamori, so I changed the title in that direction. Wow, I never would have guessed that I'd receive a question about the subtitles at the time they were being published in the magazine.

Q449.

2023.03.13

What kind of pen nib do you use when composing your manga with traditional art mediums?

A449.

A Zebra G pen. I only use this one type.

Q450.

2023.03.20

The front cover of volume 70 features Haschwalt, but why is the illustration different when the book jacket is removed? Is this something sensei intended? I was curious because the book jacket of the other volumes was the same as the inner cover illustrations. I mean, his expression on the book jacket looks like a cold stare, but when you remove it, you can see a little light in his eyes and his expression is also somewhat melancholic…. To go further, in the opening poem, his eyes are closed. When you follow that sequence, like the fluctuations in the emotional state of Haschwalt himself, you're left with an indescribable feeling. I was observing, thinking how amazing it was that the sequence of facial expressions synchronized with the opening poem!

A450.

The variations are intentional.

Q451.

2023.03.27

What day of the week is Kubo-sensei's favorite day on Love It!?

A451.

If I had to choose one, then it's probably Wednesday. (*Love it! is a variety show in Japan.)

Q452.

2023.03.27

Is the reason why Nemu's breasts have gotten so big a side effect of changes in Kubo-sensei's art style throughout the series? Or is it because Nemu has developed? Or perhaps Kubo-sensei finds it more fun to draw them bigger?

A452.

Huh, are they that different? It was always my intention to draw them large from the very beginning. 

Q453.

2023.04.03

Is the necklace worn by Ricky in BAD SHIELD UNITED the same one Rachel wore?

A453.

That's correct. Huh, I get questions like this too!?

Q454.

2023.04.10

Are the settings etc. of this recent one-shot and the Hell Verse movie treated as parallel?

A454.

It's separate from the movie.

Q455.

2023.04.10

There was an event called "Bankai Battle" in the BLEACH mobile game, was Kubo-sensei involved?

A455.

I'm not involved, but I'm aware that the swimsuit illustrations were erotic, so I want a book with all the swimsuit art collected inside.

Q456.

2023.04.17

I love Kitarō as much as I love Bleach, so I get excited every time Kubo-sensei talks about it. I love Mizuki Shigeru-sensei's manga of course, but I also love the Kitarō anime, has Kubo-sensei ever watched it? I like the sense of distance between Yōkai and humans in the second season (70's).

A456.

I've only watched the third season. (It's not that I dislike the others.) In the third season, there was a guest appearance by an original character known as Yumeko-chan, so it appears to be an unconventional choice among fans, but I like her. The rendering style for Kitarō is completely different from the original work (like his hair type), but when I was in elementary school, I used to draw Kitarō in both the style of the anime and the original work.

Q457.

2023.04.24

In chapter 477, Rukia jumps out to protect Ichigo from Tsukishima, however her facial expression appears to be one of surprise, so I was considering if it was actually Riruka controlling her body. Whose intention was it truly, Rukia's or Riruka's? 

A457.

It's Riruka’s.

Q458.

2023.04.24

I would like to know if there are any painters that Kubo-sensei likes or any that have influenced him. Thank you.

A458.

My favorite painter, or perhaps I should say, my favorite painting is 'Flowers In a Vase' by Édouard Manet (or more accurately, it's something like 'Carnations and Clematis in a Crystal Vase'). When I was a student, I tore out a calendar page which had that picture printed on it and pasted it to the wall of my room.

Q459.

2023.04.24

I was convinced that Ichigo would become a doctor, but I am surprised to find out that he became a translator. I would like to know what led Ichigo to becoming a translator. 

A459.

It's because he had an interest in connecting two worlds.

Q460.

2023.05.01

Is Yokochin doing well? I'm worried that he may be involved in some high-priced reselling or something shady like that.

A460.

It really seems like that would be the case, huh?

Q461.

2023.05.01

Were Szayelaporro and Yylfordt actually brothers during their time as humans? I think it's an exceedingly rare occurrence for both brothers to Hollowfy after death and also become an Arrancar, but I wonder if there was some common trigger? I have been curious about the pair for a long time, so I would like it if you could tell me.

A461.

The two of them were too similar at their core, so they were met with the same fate.

Q462.

2023.05.08

This is a question regarding Yayahara Yuyu. It seems like she's obsessed with gyaru style due to Lisa's influence, but what was her appearance like before that?

A462.

She wasn't a gyaru back then, but I might draw what she used to look like someday so I'll keep quiet for now.

Q463.

2023.05.08

Where is Nelliel's Hollow hole located?

A463.

In the heart.

Q464.

2023.05.15

In the one-shot, Rukia referred to Orihime by her first name, but how does Orihime address Rukia?

A464.

She calls her "Rukia-chan".

Q465.

2023.05.15

I want to know why Yoruichi-san can take on the form of a black cat. It seems possible to interpret it as the form of Yoruichi-san being sealed into a different one, that of a black cat, however it also appears to be fundamentally different to Hadō and Bakudō. Is it a power that diverges from Kidō? Or perhaps it's some kind of technology belonging to Urahara-san?

A465.

It's the Shihōin bloodline. Sometimes, individuals who can transform into the shape of an animal emerge from within the Shihōin clan. 

Q466.

2023.05.22

I frequently use LINE stamps from BLEACH and BTW! I would like BLEACH and BTW LINE themes too, are there any plans of this kind for the future?

A466.

I haven't heard about any such plans, but I'll let my editor know!

Q467.

2023.05.22

It appears that Ryūken is a surgeon, but what department has Uryū been working in since becoming a doctor? 

A467.

He is currently assigned to the pediatric department because he is popular with children.

Q468.

2023.05.29

I would definitely love to see replica Zanpakutō being made into merch. Whether it's a full scale model, or around the size of a pencil, I'd like to make a collection either way. What do you think?

A468.

I feel like there were keychains out there in the past…. I'll try to pass that on to my editor. 

Q469.

2023.05.29

In the Thousand-Year Blood War arc, when they gathered energy as part of the world distortion repair team, and in the novel CFYOW, after the battle with Tsunayashiro and company had concluded, Hiyori came to the Soul Society in a normal manner. Does that mean the other Visoreds who remained at their base of operations are able to travel back and forth between Soul Society and the Human World like normal now? Are they opening the Senkaimon by themselves? I assume if they don't have a Hell Butterfly, they'd be sent through the Dangai…. I'm curious what their relationship with Soul Society is like after the battle with Aizen had come to an end.

A469.

At present, the Visored are being lent passes that can substitute for a Hell Butterfly.

Q470.

2023.06.05

I've always been super curious about this, but are all Shinigami's underwear loincloths? Is it different for female Shinigami, or people like Sasakibe-san who likes Western culture, or Ichigo who is a substitute Shinigami?

A470.

Excluding those who are extremely picky about it, It's a basic loincloth for both men and women.

Q471.

2023.06.05

Are Aizen-sama's glasses just for show? Personally, I thought that he wore them to make his face look gentle, but I would like to know the reason behind why he wore glasses if there is one. 

A471.

You're exactly right. He wore them in order to give his face a softer look.

Q472.

2023.06.05

Just like with Isshin's Engetsu and Ichigo's Zangetsu, when there is a parent-child relationship, will the names and properties of a Zanpakutō be similar?

A472.

Not limited to parent and child, similarities can sometimes occur among blood relatives.

Q473.

2023.06.12

When Ichigo addresses members of the Gotei 13, regardless of their rank, he either drops the honorifics in their name, or attaches the polite suffix '-san', like "Byakuya" versus "Rangiku-san" for instance. Does he have some kind of criteria? I can understand dropping honorifics if it's an opponent he once fought or something, but for example, when he interacts with Tōshirō for the first time in the story (with the Hitsugaya advance party), Ichigo was already calling him just "Tōshirō!", so that got me curious.

A473.

I wonder what it is… I get the feeling that Ichigo drops honorifics for guys who, in his mind, are classed as "youngsters"….

Q474.

2023.06.12

I love the Lost Agent arc. Roughly how old is Ginjo, and how exactly did he become a substitute Shinigami? 

A474.

How he became a substitute Shinigami is a secret, but his human age is 28 years old.

Q475.

2023.06.12

Gerard's Schrift is M: The Miracle, and his ability involved "the gigantification of any body part which had damage incurred upon it and then strengthening it." When Gerard was sliced in half by Zaraki Kenpachi's Bankai, something resembling a Quincy cross emerged from his head. Was that something akin to Gerard's core and if it had been destroyed, would Gerard have been defeated?

A475.

If it were destroyed, he would have been defeated. As long as something is capable of destroying it.

Q476.

2023.06.19

In the PV for the Thousand-Year Blood War arc anime, was it Kubo-sensei himself who drew the "Thousand-Year Blood War arc" lettering which appears in the logo?

A476.

It was the designer. That lettering is great, isn't it? 

Q477.

2023.06.19

I have a question about the Central 46. They are said to be composed of forty sages and six judges gathered from all over Soul Society, but what is the recruitment criteria like? Is there some kind of training school, like the ones in the Human World? Also, as far as I can see from the illustrations in the manga, they appear to be wearing clothes which are similar in appearance to Shihakushō, so I wonder if they are also classified as Shinigami?

A477.

They are Shinigami.

Q478.

2023.06.19

Since Yachiru, Nemu and Unohana-san are no longer here, what happened with regard to the personnel of the Shinigami Women's Association?

A478.

When it comes to Nemu at least, Hachigō has already become a member.

Q479.

2023.06.26

If there are any recently released games that you highly recommend, please tell me about it.

A479.

By the time this is posted, I plan to be hooked on the new Zelda game.

Q480.

2023.06.26

Painted on Lilynette's mask, there is something resembling the flame insignia found in the BLEACH title logo, is there any reason why that flame mark is on Lilynette's mask?

A480.

The one on Lilynette's mask is her Estigma. ×[2]

Q481.

2023.06.26

Dokugamine Riruka from 12 years later looks so pretty. What is her current occupation?

A481.

She started up her own brand and works as a designer.

Q482.

2023.07.03

It is mentioned that Captain Unohana sensed something strange about Captain Aizen's corpse. Is it a result of the fact that she had slashed too many people in the past, that she felt something was wrong from the sensation of cutting (or perhaps slashing) during the autopsy? Also, was this one depiction that hinted at her past as Yachiru who is known for slaying an excessive amount of people?

A482.

It is because she has seen too many corpses, both in the past and present. I guess It's a hint if we can call it that? 

Q483.

2023.07.03

Does the Soul King have a name?

A483.

He does. It may be revealed depending on the current flow of events in the anime.

Q484.

2023.07.03

In the anime, the color of Ukitake's eyes were brown, however in sensei's color illustrations, his eyes are painted green on several occasions. Which is correct?

A484.

They are green.

Q485.

2023.07.10

When Grand Fisher confronted Isshin in his Shinigami form, he made a statement along the lines of "Kurosaki Ichigo is a Shinketsu (*true blood)", but what exactly did he mean by "Shinketsu". My prediction is that the word refers to a being who happens to possess all the elements of "Shinigami, Quincy, Hollow and human", or perhaps a being born between a Quincy and a Shinigami. 

A485.

"Shinketsu" refers to a Shinigami who was born from a Shinigami, not an individual from Rukongai who became one.

Q486.

2023.07.10

I like Hisagi and always look forward to seeing his Zanpakutō in action ever since its first appearance, but the phrase "a shape that reaps life" appealed to me so much that Kazeshini became my favorite Zanpakutō. Hisagi exudes a strong impression of a character who is often toyed with, so I recall being very happy because he was surprisingly cool. Nevertheless, it's because my mental image of Hisagi was just as the aforementioned, that I also remember being taken by surprise after seeing Kazeshini. There are some characters whom I think have a Zanpakutō that is different to their image, and some characters whom I think have a Zanpakutō which suit them perfectly. So, I'm curious whether sensei creates a character first and then thinks about their Zanpakutō, or if it's the other way around.

A486.

Off the top of my head, they come after the character. The same goes for Hisagi, of course.

Q487.

2023.07.10

I quite like Kurumadani Zennosuke, but I haven't seen much merchandise featuring him…. Even after I tried searching, I could only find one card from BLEACH Soul Card Battle… I'd like to see any kind of Zennosuke merch released even if it's just a sticker. My dream is to buy Kurumadani Zennosuke merch someday. Also, Kubo-sensei, what kind of goods do you think you can commercialize with Kurumadani Zennosuke? If you don't mind, please tell me.  

A487.

It won't be profitable because you're gonna be the only one buying it, you know? Come to think of it, I feel like there wasn't any original artwork made for Kurumadani at the exhibition either….

Q488.

2023.07.17

This is a question regarding Ōetsu's line, "I know the whereabouts of every Asauchi" which appears in volume 59. I considered that perhaps this so-called "whereabouts" has three components:

1. Physical location ①

2. Physical location ②

3. Psychological & spiritual location 

First of all, "1. physical location ①" is the storehouse where the Asauchi are kept, which will be distributed to those who will soon enter the Shin'ō Academy and become Shinigami or members of other organizations. Even in this case, it certainly would be surprising for Ichigo, but I don't think it's something to be that boastful about. This is because it is (most likely) a teacher from the Shin'ō Academy who takes out Asauchi from the storehouse and then distributes them, so it's not Ōetsu's privilege.

Next, "2. physical location ②" means that, similar to GPS, he can perceive the current location of all Zanpakutō which have been released from their Asauchi. 

Finally, "3. Psychological & spiritual location" is the key point where Shinigami who possess Asauchi liberate their Asauchi. I believe there is a standard which dictates how far a Shinigami needs to go before they are able to release it, and I wonder if Ōetsu knows what that standard is for all Shinigami. Knowing the key point for the release criterion of all Shinigami extending from Soul Society let alone to the various locations in the Human World is truly an extraordinary feat which deserves to be called 'god-like'.

It's not the best idea to base things on personal impressions, so I would appreciate your opinion or answer regarding this analysis.

A488.

What Ōetsu meant is that he knows "who owns the Asauchi and what kind of state it is in" so no. 3 is the closest.

Q489.

2023.07.17

When Ikkaku was 3rd seat and Yumichika was 5th seat, did anyone occupy the 4th seat in Squad 11?

A489.

No one did.

Q490.

What is your favorite drink at Starbucks? (Including any limited-time items from the past.)

A490.

It's Adzuki Frappuccino.

Q491.

2023.07.24

In the story of Isshin and Masaki-san's chance encounter, we observed an injury, received from a Hollow, which had undergone treatment. But, I wonder if it involves the Kishi being treated directly, or if the soul is treated after being extracted from the Kishi, or perhaps the soul is treated directly through the Kishi? Which one is it? Since Shinigami do not harbor Kishi in the first place, they only have a method of treatment for the soul, and since the Quincy are living human beings, I think it was necessary to establish a treatment method that directly affects the soul through the Kishi.

A491.

There are Quincy who treat only the Kishi, and there are Quincy who have the ability to treat even Reishi alongside the Kishi. 

Q492.

2023.07.24

The art exhibition was so amazing! I would like to know about three characters in particular who appeared in the exhibition illustrations. Is the man wearing glasses next to Ikumi-san her husband?? Is the boy in the suit next to Nelliel Shishigawara-kun?? I also want to know about the pink-haired woman to the upper left of Uryū. It took me 20 odd hours to put the puzzle together, but I finished it without incident so now it's displayed in my room!

A492.

The pink haired woman is Riruka. You are correct about the other two.

Q493.

2023.07.24

It's something I noticed when looking at the newly drawn illustrations made for the art exhibition, but has Kubo-sensei never drawn Harribel outside of her Espada look (such as in a swimsuit)? I wound up paralyzed after seeing all the different versions in Brave Souls. There are swimsuits for Nelliel and Riruka, but now that I think about it… I started to wonder about something. Is the reason why there were few opportunities to draw Harribel, because it's difficult to integrate her with other characters?

A493.

It doesn't seem like Harribel would be willing to wear a swimsuit, does it?

Q494.

2023.07.31

The back of Kisuke's haori from volumes 2 to 5 has a circle with the character "喜" (*ki from "Kisuke") within it, but it disappears from volume 6 onwards. Does this design change have any significance? Or does Kisuke wear two types of haori that he made himself?

A494.

I got rid of it because it was too tedious to draw, but maybe I should just pretend that he has two? Well, from a design perspective, I prefer for it to be simple without that particular aspect to it.

Q495.

2023.07.31

What will happen to the returned Zanpakutō of Shinigami who have left their position in the Gotei 13? Will Ōetsu turn them into Asauchi again?

A495.

After being stored for a fixed period of time, they are returned to Ōetsu and made into Asauchi again. The length of this "fixed period" depends on the owner.

Q496.

2023.07.31

Captain Hitsugaya and Vice-Captain Hinamori are childhood friends, but are these two neighbors? Or did they live in the same house? 

A496.

The same neighborhood.

Q497.

2023.08.07

When a child is born among inhabitants of Soul Society, does that soul belong to someone who died in the Human World? Or, is it that inhabitants who died in the Human World are mixed together with inhabitants of Soul Society who were born and raised there?

A497.

All newly born children are inhabitants of Soul Society.

Q498.

2023.08.07

If the poison of Kamishini no Yari were to be injected into Nakk Le Vaar, without anything being injected into him beforehand, would he die? Or will he endure? 

A498.

If he is injected with the poison without ever having come into contact with Gin (his Reiatsu) at all, then he will die.

Q499.

2023.08.07

Is there even the slightest possibility that Luppi could be a girl? When I first saw Luppi I thought "she's super cute"…. So I was shocked to hear a male voice actor perform the role in the anime. Up until then, I had been calling him "Luppi-chan".

A499.

Even if there isn't the slightest chance, please keep calling him "Luppi-chan".

Q500.

2023.08.14

Towards the end of Volume 55, Mayuri remarks towards the Captain Commander: "that time, 1000 years ago, you failed to kill that man", but the words "that time" suggests that Mayuri also happened to be present on that occasion. Do his words actually carry this nuance?

A500.

Mayuri found out about it in the course of researching other things. He was not actually present.

Translation Footnotes:

×1. "Jade Hall" is located on the sternum mid-line. "Heavenly Pivot" is located at the level of the navel.

×2. “Estigma” (mask crest) is a term which appears in the Masked character book, page 246: “A pattern marked on an Arrancar's face, possibly as a remnant of their mask. It is unique to each individual and can also appear when they activate Resurrección.”

[throwaway-yandere]

Saudade (Yandere!Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Reader)

A/n: it has been 500 years since I turned off my brain and wrote something out of pure passion lmao dimitri my beloved <333

Unreliable Synopsis: Circumstances won't allow you to be around the crown prince of Faerghus' side, and it wasn't as if you want to be near him either after allying with House Gloucester. Besides, if there was one person you want from your past back, who else would it be other than your old womanizer best friend? (Cw: yandere themes, violence, war)

commissioned by: @poptartsthings (holy sht thank you for making my first commission to be dimitri fic aaAAHHHHH--)

“You should just send them your letter– say that you’re sorry.”

"Uhuh, but what if he doesn't remember me anymore, Raph?"

"Well," Raphael placed both his hands behind his head, lolling back as he reeled a fish in. "There’s just no way. Based on your stories, I think he’s in love with you, (Y/n). You can't just ignore him forever, ya know?"

You raised an eyebrow, "yes, I can. It's not like there are tons of situations where I need to interact with the crown prince."

"Okay, true... But maaaaaybe you can try eating lunch with him!" Raphael brushed against your shoulder "There's nothing that can get people to open up like a good meal together. Maybe you can steal a seat– oh, and sneak in his favorites on his plate too."

You chuckled softly, "I think that method only works on you, Raph."

"Nonsense!" He said, shaking his head earnestly. "It also works on my baby sister!"

You snorted.

Your housemates are endearing. Truthfully, you never would have expected that it's comfortable in the Golden Deer. Your heart desired to become a Blue Lions graduate like your parents, but familial circumstances or lack-there-of forbade any opportunity. Had life been easier on you, your dorm wall would've sported your family’s blue flag.

And not Gloucester’s.

Since your parents perished in what is now known as the “Tragedy of Duscur”, Count Gloucester assumed responsibility of being your legal guardian. Your parents had always thought of Lorenz’s father as a close ally. Plus, this arrangement was better than living up the frigid north with estranged minor noble relatives who gave you an even more colder shoulder.

However, thread any less carefully around the Alliance, and you might find yourself under his conservatorship forever. You just have to thank the Blue Sea Star that you didn’t bore a crest lest you’d be engaged to Lorenz. Uncle Erwin is a wonderful father to him and he doesn’t treat you with malice either— but of course, he keeps an eye open to morally gray opportunities to exploit your title.

And that includes listing your name amongst the Golden Deers.

At first, you were hesitant in showing that you're an “outlier” in class, but it seems you fit the mold quite easily. Too easily. Not because you had been accustomed to their social norms, it is more like the fawns are oddballs themselves. The youngest was an enchantment waiting to explode, your largest was a total muscle-head, the house leader has a screw loose when it comes to strategic retreat and poisoning, and the rest are just as eccentric.

No one cares if you told them you have an affinity for theater here, and spoilers: they really did not give a damn. Except for maybe when Ignatz genuinely went "oh, that sounds wonderful, (Y/n)!" before the conversation digressed about Leonie's mismatched socks she bought on the market.

Oh, but Raphael and Claude did care when they found out that you might've had a long but faded friendship with at least four of the Blue Lions. Compared to Claude, you trust that Raphael comes from a good place whenever he brings them up. Since he and Ignatz were childhood friends who slowly grew apart, he has your best intentions whenever he suggests something that could reignite your relationship with either Sylvain, Felix, Ingrid, or Prince Dimitri.

Claude, on the other hand…

The house leader first emerged as a shadow, then he sat down and squeezed between you and Raphael, with his arm encircled around your waist. Claude's apparent lack of etiquette went unmentioned by either of you (you suspect Claude is part-Almyran), but you do intend to ignore him later like your "foster brother" does.

"Trading secrets about Prince Dimitri, are we? Won't ya invite poor me along in your little secret meeting?”

You sighed tiredly, "Claude–"

"I was just kidding. No need to give me that face," Claude raised his arms defensively. “My lips are sealed— I never heard a single word between you two, promise.”

The deers were a little leery of your prior association with the crown prince of Faerghus. Claude, who frequently pries into everyone's private affairs, persistently diverted your focus to the Lions. In fact, he once burned your favorite book to forcibly draw your attention to the library so that you'll share the same room with Dimitri. Talk about extremes, really.

But you did notice that there's something off about Claude this time.

“So what brings you here? There’s no way you’ve come here to fish.”

“Yeah, no…” He cringed. “I’d rather do the eating part.”

“Haha, you get it, Claude!” Raphael said before the two men shared a crisp high-five.

Ah, these fawns…

You sighed, “can we skip to the part where you explain why you’re sitting beside me right now?”

“Sure. Leonie wanted me to tell you that Lysithea told her that Lorenz was told by Prof—”

“Do you not know the meaning of “skip”, Riegan?”

“Nah, course I do,” Claude smirked. “It’s just fun to tease people who live in House Gloucester.”

“Sothis, have mercy.”

“As I was saying, Lorenz was told by Professor Byleth to tell you that Sylvain is now part of the Golden Deer.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“… What?”

There was no dramatic gasp. Nothing sensational or derogatory comment was elicited from impetuous lips. You simply blinked and said the words "what? as if it were a simple joke. Claude needn’t explain that those were facts. Based on how he approached with worry written on his face that he failed to hide from you, he wasn't jesting.

You're reluctant to speak with Sylvain. You last spoke to him in earnest four years ago. Don't get it twisted, you do want to get back in touch with that philanderer's good graces, but where would you even start?

Dear Sylvain, I’m sorry for ignoring your letters? Dear Sylvain, I’ll reimburse you for all the theater tickets you gifted before without my consent? Dear Sylvain, I’m a garbage best friend?

… Knowing him, he’d likely frame that letter with careful preservation while the ink from his heaps of love letters faded inside his shelf collection. If you were to send similar letters to the other two, Felix would train to become a mortal savant and burn the letter out of spite, and Ingrid would have simply torn them up.

“WOAH!!!”

Raphael's chest caught your attention for a brief moment, and you quickly avoided him, concerned that those wooden buttons will suddenly protrude into your eyes. Your housemate captured the fish without even feeling his buttons tear apart from his outfit.

Goddess Messenger.

That’s quite an expensive catch right there.

But it felt like an omen for something.

“… I’m heading back to my dorm room.”

“Want us to go with you?” Raphael offered, but he reeked of fish.

“No, I’ll head there alone.”

Claude tilted his head, “Sylvain is probably there, you know.”

“I know,” you nodded. “But I’m tired.”

“I just can’t run away from the lions anymore.”

You should’ve taken your words literally.

Instead, the phrase "I need to get over this, fast" resonated in your thoughts, and you bolted as soon as the impulse to settle everything fueled your anxiety. You should have cared if someone got in your way, but you didn't.

“Ngh—” you flinched, bumping into someone’s back. “Whoops— sorry about that—”

You froze as you looked up.

Great. Just your luck.

“… What is there to be forgiven, (Y/n)?”

And of course, he called you by your first name. Your arguments against Raphael were demonstrably false. A futile hoax. Why even try to imagine that he might have forgotten about you?

Dimitri smiled softly, his eyes crinkling in delight. You gulped shakily.

After all, how can the crown prince ever forget his first love?

Now that you took a good look, his hair was much shorter than how it used to be and he grew positively taller. It’s a haircut you took a while to get used to, especially since you recalled how his hair used to hover near his shoulder. Not that you didn’t know about any of this information already. It’s just that you had to reassess those facts after seeing him up close. Perhaps a bit too close for comfort.

If only your last memories with him were as pleasant as his face.

He wanted you as his consort, but you had nothing to offer him. No land, no worthy title befitting for a king’s spouse, and no true inheritance in your arsenal at age 15. But when one has less to lose, they become more introspective. While clinging to Sothis' statue and pleading for life, they gain wisdom. Unlike the prince, you were not naive to what could befall the kingdom if you were to marry him. Instead, you sought asylum by knocking on Uncle Erwin’s door with the few loyal servants to House (L/n) left, and he accepted your offer after days of consideration.

His name will be tarnished as a young traumatized prince who copes by spoiling a love unrequited. But most of all? The loss of his friends and family would’ve developed his separation anxiety towards you more if you stayed.

The prince was something of a doormat teenager. He begged and nearly cried when you had accidentally slipped out that you’ll be allying with House Gloucester– but stopped his outburst the moment you chewed him out with hurtful phrases. Dimitri clung onto you like an affectionate pup and if his childhood self could latch on for the rest of his life, he would in a heartbeat. Perhaps it was the side-effect of being his first friend. He had always been a genuinely kind person, but he was always so caught up in whatever happened in the past.

Was it rational or heartless to leave him and the rest of your companions behind? Likely both, if you were to ask El.

That doesn't mean you don't occasionally catch a glimpse of him at the officer's academy. It's hilarious how, after Dedue performed his duties as a vassal, Dimitri now had to cope with a situation that was identical to yours. A "protector" so dependent… it was as though you were watching the prince try on your shoes. Your “you don’t have to shield me every time we go to the training grounds” line became His Highness’ catchphrase towards his retainer. And you’re not sure what to feel about that.

Was it comedy or plain karma? Likely both, if you were to ask Claude.

“Good evening, Your Highness,” you bowed. There would’ve been more eyes on you inside the cafeteria if you hadn’t. Gossips of lese-majeste would’ve stirred even Lindhart awake. “Do you require something from me?”

Formal.

Too formal for him, but not formal enough for you.

Dimitri's brows wrinkled, and you briefly saw his lip tremble. His hands were behind his back, and one of them was discreetly and firmly gripping his wrist. That man had a pained, speechless expression on his face, and you don't hold him responsible when words fall short.

But when words do fail, you wished he could just stop talking whenever he feels overwhelmed.

“I…”

I miss you. So much.

You didn’t need to hear it to know what he wanted to say.

Princess Edelgard was right, Dimitri is wholly predictable.

He cleared his throat, ears turning red.

“It had been so long since we had last spoken, has it not?”

“It has.”

“Around 4 years, so I'd say.”

“Hmm. So it has,” you doubt he noticed how your words were curt and redundant, since he's too busy trying not to melt. “So it has.”

“Are you enjoying the Golden Deer house, s-so far?” Dimitri manufactured a smile. “I’ve heard you and Lorenz made for a wonderful tag team at the last House Tournament.”

Bullshit.

He didn’t just “hear” about it.

You saw him cheer for you giddily in that tournament.

There is nothing he can conceal from you. If he were as cunning as Claude, it might take you some time to discover who was responsible for leaving sloppy, "anonymous" love letters inside your dorm. There were also petals tucked inside. Pink camellias, a sign of longing.

“It’s a feat not worthy of your praise, your Highness.”

Seriously, you don’t want to hear him flatter you anymore.

“Simply untrue,” he shook his head earnestly. “I’ve also heard that—… Y… You are fond of Raphael. As a friend— of course. It’s relieving to know that you have many companions from different walks of life— which is to say, I approve of whoever you talk to, but—”

You’re not deaf. You noticed how much his words were about your relations with others. There’s no other interpretation to this other than jealousy.

Still, his face was red. He must be too caught up in the joy of talking to you that he didn’t care for how envious his words sounded. You laughed curtly. You want to remind him the reason why you left, but you can’t explain a thing despite desperately wanting to, just like him.  

Dimitri wants you back, so much so that he's stuttering in every sentence.

But you didn’t reply to his ramblings. Save for the cafeteria hall’s chatter, it was silent. You’ve long accepted in your heart that your family is dead and you ought to coast forward. 

And there’s no future where you will cut through a path beside Dimitri. 

Besides, House (L/n) had histories of trading tactics with Leicester, and you cannot discount how people refer to your blood as sheeple with its loyalty. It’s a double-edged sword, one you’d utilize well if you close your eyes right now and ignored the heartbreak and yearning in his eyes.

And so, you closed your eyes.

“My apologies, I’m in a hurry so I’m afraid I have to get going. Farewell, Your Highness.”

Dimitri's eyes widened, trying to reach for your arm.

“(Y/n), please wait–”

But you were already gone.

“Hey there, (N/n)!”

It was only when you heard a familiar voice did you open your eyes again.

An attractive and familiar young man lazily leaned on one hand on your door, completely blocking your dorm room. “Are you gonna talk to me now, or are you just going to ignore me for the rest of the school year?”

He’s here.

You steeled yourself.

“Gautier…” You exhaled.

“Oof, “Gautier”, they said,” he frowned. “Not a single “I miss you, Sylvain”? No “gosh, sorry I didn’t talk to you for so long, I was just too shy to admit that I was wrong!”?”

You chuckled nervously.

“Perceptive as ever, I see.” But you weren’t wrong. Becoming a Golden Deer was the right path for you.

“Not perceptive, but hopeful really,” Sylvain shrugged. “Based on that reply, I’m glad my wishful thinking was spot on. You do miss me.”

“I do, but I now just realized I’m not prepared for this conversation,” you said, surprised by your upfront and composed anxiety. That talk with Dimitri seriously drained all the energy you garnered earlier. “Can we do this later?”

“No can do. I shall allow you passage if thee speaks from the heart,” he teased with his signature ladykiller grin. “Go on, say it~”

You sighed, burlesquely exasperated.

The two of you adore theater, so talks like these were commonplace. He’d mask his flaws when confessing sins in this manner, but you prefer to hear his real justifications. In any case, this is just another conquest for him to gad off and hunt some girls in another house— and your new professor is undoubtedly a sight to behold.

“Oh, Sylvain, mine dear friend, thou art missed for nearly half a decade, but mine fear did not condone myself to reach out.”

Like two birds of a feather, you also similarly mask your sentimentality.

Funny how you can easily say you miss Sylvain, but not Dimitri.

Sylvain smiled. Genuinely, this time.

“Good.”

The resolution was surprisingly fast. You were willing to bet you both anticipated a serious confrontation– a meeting that feels like a long-awaited class reunion after a war or so. But no.

The two of you are still flawed yet perceptive idiots after 4 years of not talking.

You both laughed in unison.

What were you worrying about anyway? You knew that at this point if Sylvain was angry at you for leaving, he should have grown tired of that emotion.

His primary grudge had always been the crest system, not you.

You should've had this talk earlier, he's the only one in the Blue Lions you were sure won't blame a crestless noble like you for those circumstances.

“Now move, Gautier.”

He stepped aside smugly.

…

You opened your mouth in surprised indignation.

“Why does my room look clean?”

“I had Mercedes help me clean it up the moment I took a look inside. Seriously, I can’t believe you managed to live in a complete pigsty—”

“It’s like you want to sour our reestablished friendship in under 5 minutes, Sylvie.”

“...”

“What? Too old to be called Sylvie nowadays?”

“No, keep calling me that,”

Sylvain never stopped smiling.

“Oh, and by the way? I miss you too, (N/n).”

“… There you are.”

As soon as Sylvain left the hall to your dorm, he was greeted by the sight of the crown prince lingering in front of the stairways. Unlike Sylvain, he was not leaning on anything while waiting. The prince stood straight, dignified.

Then again, Sylvain knew his royal motivations lie in jealousy— and that’s far from “dignified.”

Sylvain can tell from his stiff stance that Claude was particularly touchy-feely earlier, which was exactly why he requested Lorenz to relay the message instead rather than the house leader. His Highness must’ve seen how close you sat beside Raphael and then Claude. The Golden Deer's leader knew Dimitri was obsessed with you— he probably intended to provoke him for the upcoming Battle of Eagle and Lion. It didn't help that Dimitri had his eyes on you, always. If not him, then Dedue.

Not that Claude's scheme will work. Dimitri was satisfied just to see you smile, even when it pains him to acknowledge that it wasn’t for him or because of him.

Sylvain is an exception to that rule.

Dimitri had a cold glint in his azure eyes, but his gaze all but glared at Sylvain. He had a smidgen of control, for now. But it’s not long until what Sylvain had prophesied about the crown prince quipping a remark or two about staying away from you will occur.

“Waiting for me to explain my random decision, I’m guessing?”

“Oh, I simply liked standing here but sure, Sylvain! I’d dearly love to know the rational thought behind switching houses out of the blue. It is not as if Felix and Ingrid were worried about you,” Dimitri generously gave his princely smile.

Sometimes, Sylvain forgets it was physically possible for someone so austere with himself like Dimitri to say something laced with malicious sarcasm. But Sylvain knew Dimitri stood there because he was still worried about his friend, even when he pretends to be unbothered.

Like bread and butter, Dimitri and forced positivism complement each other disastrously well. The Blue Lions often caught him murmuring things like "I'm delighted (Y/n) is making new friends" or "I hope Claude continues to treat them well" despite having a glum expression on his face, obviously bottling up his envy. Felix finds it as easy as breathing to call him out on this behavior: "Why bother stalking them when you can't handle the envy you feel when they hugged Lorenz or held hands with Marianne? ”

His Highness never answered that question. He thinks had kept his feral thoughts at bay most of the time and will continue to do so.

Still… Raphael, Claude, and then Sylvain… Dimitri can’t catch a break.

Why do all these men keep approaching you?

Will you never recognize the perpetual anguish that befall him the moment you didn't reach for his hand and took Count Gloucester's that day? Have you no sympathy for the man that promised your protection— for the boy you trained and sneaked out when you thought the king wasn't looking? Whenever he wakes up the following morning without you, do you not experience the same emptiness and loneliness that he does?

Was it because he is a "troubled prince" nowadays?

Was it because he couldn't taste anything anymore?

Why did you eat saghert and cream with Ignatz instead of him at the cafeteria?

Why did these men have to ruin the one taste he can recall?

He lies awake every night to the sound of phantom screams from fallen soldiers, friends, and family against his hand-covered ears.

But you were his solace. His “God/dess”.

And just like with the Goddess Sothis, he lacked the means to grasp your hand...

If only his cold hands could wring those men's necks as well...

“... Do you really want to know, Your Highness?”

It took Dimitri a while before he snapped out of his trance. His voice dipped low, his breathing uneasy, and his eyes lacked focus.

Sylvain looked at him with pity Dimitri wished you spared him instead.

“Yes,” he exhaled. “It shall help our friends put their minds at ease.”

“Well, well, you're sure it's not because you'll miss me?”

“Sylvain.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll tell you,” Sylvain dreamily gazed up at the sky and boldly proclaimed:

“The new professor was hot.”

“Sylvain!—”

“Calm down, Your Highness! That was just a joke.”

Unlikely.

“I joined because (Y/n) is there.”

Dimitri froze.

The meaning behind those words could either be tolerable or impermissible enough to make the prince push Sylvain to the training grounds without remorse.

Sylvain’s not going to try and suddenly woo you now, will he?

You did grow more gorgeous after four years after all…

But Sylvain can't have you— Dimitri might just lose it. Out of everyone on campus, he refuses to let an adamant skirt-chaser take you.

“… Elaborate.”

“Elaborate? What’s there to elaborate?” Sylvain crossed his arms behind his back, now back to his laissez-faire attitude in life. He cackled to himself, absolutely unrepentant. “Is it bad that I want to reunite with an old friend? You know, before they were your friend, they were mine. Don’t forget that we’re both older than you, Dimitri.”

Multiple considerations led to why Sylvain chose to frolic with the deers rather than squander the school year at the lion’s den. One of these includes avoiding Ingrid’s nagging— he can’t be bothered having a pegasus pecking around while he galavants with (unfortunate) women.

But most of it boiled down to reunite with the one platonic relationship he missed.

Sylvain became Dimitri’s ally through you. Had you not approached Sylvain and Dimitri during one of King Lambert’s birthday celebrations, they wouldn’t have initiated a friendship through a children’s version of a bergamot tea party away from drunken nobility. More opportunities to befriend the prince would’ve likely presented themselves through Ingrid and Felix, but that memory of tiny cups and tea-stained shoes was special because it had you.

Because you were smart and kind enough to drag Sylvain out of his older brother’s schemes of public humiliation under the guise of being “invited” to an audience with royalty.

You were more of a sibling than Miklan ever was.

“By two years,” Dimitri stressed. “You’re only older than me by two years.”

“Your point? Doesn’t change the fact that compared to most students this year, we’re one of the older ones.”

He bit his bottom lip.

Age was one of Dimitri’s insecurities. It cannot be helped— if he were only older, people would’ve listened to his testimony for the people of Duscur more seriously— if he were only older, he would’ve had control over his uncle—

Dimitri’s knuckles grew white underneath his gloves.

If he were only older, then maybe you would’ve stayed by his side.

“What a lark. Are you attempting to compete on who had a better relationship with (Y/n)?”

“No, Your Highness, YOU are.”

Dimitri’s eyes widened. He hadn’t realized that those pointed words he spoke aimed towards himself like a misthrown javelin.

"Let’s be honest, Your Highness. I’m saying this as a friend, but you could be a bit tone-deaf and insufferable around them,” Sylvain deadpanned. “You had some serious attachment issues and you never listen when they tell you to stop with all those creepy comments about protecting them forever.”

“Is… Is that so?”

Dimitri muttered to himself while looking at his shoes, sounding almost broken. He had doubts, but Sylvain’s words practically cemented that you’d be unwilling to spend time with him again.

“Besides, if this were a competition, you lost the moment I waited at their dorm.”

The prince’s head snapped back up like a confused puppy.

“Why is that?”

What a horrible thing to ask.

“Because (Y/n) just told me that they missed me,” Sylvain smirked.

“And if you were there, you could’ve heard them call me Sylvie too, just like the good old days.”

Since that talk with Sylvain, Dimitri wanted to make you as lonely as him.

Oh, how he badly wanted to whisk you away from that house– oh just how much he wished he could force you to wear his cape– to wear the color of the lions.

But none of that matters now.

You look prettier when doused in splattered red.

The soil sipped the blood that drained from Ignatz's head. It reminded you of the time you asked the painter if he could use blood as a dye. If he were to watch this scene, he would've waxed poetic about how he will be simply returning his life to the earth, but the beauty of death is lost on you. The gravity of war weighed far more than the theatrics of what-he-would've-spoken.

It’s been five years since the war started.

You had lost your voice two years ago the moment Dimitri kidnapped you on your expedition to Garreg Mach— you’ve mistaken him for a bandit and in a blind rage, he dealt a massive blow to your neck. Dimitri didn’t mind that you had lost your ability to speak he seemed to relish that you’re similarly deformed. He romanticized both your disabilities often. A “God/dess” who couldn’t speak and a “boar” who couldn’t quite see. What a royal pair indeed…

You can’t say your prayers now, but you hoped thinking about praying for Ignatz was enough…

Ignatz should've turned 22 this year. Based on the way he last behaved, he didn't seem prepared for this war and had been misplaced by Professor Byleth.

You’ll never be able to eat saghert and cream with him again.

You can't remember what tactic you used in this battle. Was it Felix who was assigned to stick ten feet away from you who had slain Ignatz? Or was it Ingrid who rode her pegasus to stab the sniper in a suicidal fashion?

This entire battle is a blur. You can no longer stand straight and aim your sword reluctantly toward anyone.

Why can't everything go back to how it was before? Why can't you just fish at the Great Bridge of Myrddin with Uncle Erwin again?

You wobbled down the grass as a wyvern obstructed your view with its proud albino scales cruising the sky. Claude sits atop, his face stony through a nearly unrecognizable expression of placid anger. His emerald eyes inevitably met yours.

You didn't stand with your sword supporting you, and he didn't draw his bow either. Instead, before leaving to find the bright red target everyone called an "Emperor", Claude mouthed words that only you two could understand. You uttered nothing in response. Even if Claude were to succeed, his scheme would be futile.

Sylvain can’t save you from Dimitri.

Like a fairytale, it begins and ends with the crown prince. It always had.

But if Dimitri was the protagonist of this story, then pray tell, what does that make you?

A damsel in distress?

The king's court jester?

All you ever wanted was for House (L/n) to survive, to preserve your family name and dwindling territory against House Charon. You desired the opportunity to emulate your father. A fearless front-liner and a skilled tactician.

However, you have not taken any real action to end this war. You moved like a weak infantry, unable to maintain balance on one leg or call out for upcoming danger.

You just can’t run away from the lions anymore.

"Get up."

You couldn't move, mortified.

His Highness is back.

"I said GET UP!!!"

His iron-like hands yanked your hair up, and you felt some of it weeded out by his sheer brute force. You wept immediately but held back tears. Despite your commitment to keeping your composure, he had torn away what little hold you had left on what you call "stability." Your knees shook as his tall figure began to drag you away. Each step felt more jagged than the last. Your heart beat erratically as you worried about toppling down– and when you inevitably did, he was there to pick you up.

For Dimitri, this situation was advantageous. Most Golden Deers are here, which meant he had opportunities to route them all. He had already stabbed Ignatz, incessantly. Each draw of his lance— each crack of the artist’s glasses and bones— rejuvenated whatever youth war had stolen from him. The future king of lions couldn’t stop grinning maniacally as his eyes lay upon a deer’s corpse. It was as if his sense of taste was coming back. All of his soldiers and classmates were too terrified to stop his senseless slaughter. If Gustave did not scold him about the oncoming army, he would’ve continued damaging the corpse senselessly.

But it’s only a matter of time until he shoots for the leader of the herd as well.

He still hasn’t forgiven him for using his beloved against him back at the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. This was the perfect opportunity for revenge. Once they’re out of the picture, then it’s only Edelgard left who he had to worry about— but until then, he’ll have to take the deers’ lives for stealing his beloved away.

Shame that Lorenz had yet to be found.

"Tch. Fool."

He cradled you like a bride but gripped your jaw like a hostage. Dimitri's current appearance is much too different from what he used to be. Sweat and blood had greased up his unruly hair, and the blue cloak that was slung over his shoulders was much dirtier.

"I command you to eat."

It was almost sweet. Almost kind when his voice softened for just a millisecond. Almost touching how his one eye gazed upon your sunken features with disdain.

But your appreciation for it all vanished the moment he robbed something from Ignatz's corpse.

"Eat."

He shoved onto you Ignatz's last bloody loaf of bread. It was hard, yet soaked.

Your throat couldn't express how terrified you were upon holding it.

"Gone deaf as well, have we?"

He pushed the bread closer to your chest, effectively crushing it against you. Dimitri breathed against your ear.

"I SAID: EAT.”

Your tears and Ignatz's blood salted your food.

The bread tasted just like the ones Raphael's family had in their inn.

Ignatz… He probably got this from Raphael… Which means he's in Gronder as well…

You sobbed as you took a feeble bite.

Please… Please be safe, Raphael.

Dimitri saw your struggle. He saw your continued concern for those who were after his life and yours. Why do you spare sympathy for the bodies that got in the way between you and him? They did not warrant those tears. The weak must fall— even he too will join them someday.

And so, Dimitri closed his eye.

You’ve gone fragile in his arms, and that was not spoken in a romantic sense. He had fractured your right leg enough to make you use your sword as a cane, yet he insists on dragging you in combat. Time and time again, he forces you to witness what he is capable of and more till you’re unable to write complaints.

Dimitri wanted to reassure you that you’re on the right side of history.

That you can cut a path beside him— you just weren’t trying hard enough before.

And it was a challenge the prince can’t easily scale. You never showed your appreciation for longer than a minute. When he learned how to dance begrudgingly with El after she had poisoned him with thoughts that he could use her teachings someday to dance with you— you dared to ask Sylvain out during the White Heron Cup. When he tried to give you a more fancy dagger as well during El’s parting, you admired Sylvain’s coincidental parcel of theater tickets and tea leaves instead.

Sylvain, Sylvain, Sylvain—

It was always Sylvain.

His entire body shook from laughter. You shriveled in fear as his voice echoed throughout the battlefield.

The beast put you down underneath a tree's shade that he deemed as safe.

… and kissed your forehead.

“I can see him approaching us.”

Dimitri cooed mockingly.

“Shall I decapitate and mount that filthy rat's head on a silver plate?”

You didn’t need to hear him utter his name to know he was referring to Sylvain. It was tempting to challenge him on how he could say such a thing about someone who had once been a friend, but that inquiry wouldn't help. Dimitri cupped your face and wiped your tears away with his rough and heavy hands. You flinch so easily nowadays.

How adorable.

Five years ago, you won't move a muscle whenever he kissed your forehead good night.

Five years ago, he worried about accidentally waking you up and exposing himself for breaking into your dorm so often just to drop his unhinged love letters.

Five years ago, watching you rest allowed moments of respite.

However, it didn’t invigorate him as much as your tears did now.

“Fret not, my fellow monster, I shall fetch it for you,”

He tightened his grip on his areadbhar, scanning the right field. The lance's crest stone glowed, and there was no looking back after that.

You’re here now, and he will NEVER let you leave. He won’t have a repeat of what had occurred when Count Gloucester was present around nine years ago or so. He’ll protect you this time, and it no longer mattered to him if he were a corpse or a monster in your eyes. It mattered not that he no longer slept. He intends to keep you alive and by his side, just like what he had promised in his childhood.

You can't even begin to imagine how much being away from you ruined him.

He had reached the point where he will kill everyone that tried to touch you, and he won’t have someone else do it, too.

Was this love or obsession? Likely both, if you were to ask Lady Rhea.

But what does Rhea know about Dimitri’s mental state anyways? She’s been missing for years now, she might as well be dead to you.

Without thinking, you grabbed his cloak. He patted your head but his eyes were locked on the cavalry unit from afar, and the dark and sinister smirk on his face solidified your fears.

Sylvain approached faster, and you did your best not to cry.

If he dares to fight Dimitri in the state he is now, then he might as well be a dead man walking too.

You wished you didn’t have to join the Golden Deer house— you wished Sylvain didn’t follow suit— and you wish you didn’t leave Sylvain behind. You did not doubt that if it hadn’t been for you, Dimitri would have concentrated only on Edelgard and joined forces with Claude to eliminate her. It would have given this historical period a more coordinated scheme. History won’t have to remember you as the catalyst that made things worse.

"(N/n)!"

You heard Sylvain yell from behind Dimitri, which only made your heart ache more.

It's been years since you last heard his voice again.

Dimitri took your warm hands and brushed his cheek against it, no matter how obvious it was that your eyes yearned for someone else’s touch.

He looked at you with such a soft gaze that you nearly forgot the monster he had become.

“Once we hang his head on our bedroom wall, you have no right to complain about missing “Sylvie” ever again, my beloved.”

[marxalittle]

Mountain Goats, 2024/04/12, Palace Theater St Paul

Azo Tle Nelli in Tlalticpac?

Sicilian Crest

Murder at the 18th Street Garage

Extraction Point

Only One Way

Waylon Jennings Live!

Fresh Tattoo

John solo: Against Agamemnon

John solo: lsland Garden Song

Joh solo: Horseradish Road

Jenny III

From the Nebraska Plant

The Diaz Brothers

Bell Swamp Connection

Cottons

Only Takes a Few (by Jonathan Larson)

No Children

This Year

Encore:

Slow Parts of Death Metal Albums

First Blood

International Small Arms Traffic Blues

Palmcorder Yajna

Up the Wolves

[thedaveandkimmershow]

Of course we enjoyed the movie together.

That's the thing, though.

It hasn't been our habit since the pandemic imposed itself on our daily lives. So gone were any number of "normal" experiences like going to a gig, attending a concert, a live performance. Along with going to the movies. Or, as has been our habit, going to The Crest. Going to see a movie at The Crest Theater. Where, by the way, they have the best buttered popcorn. Not overly salted. Plus, once the tub is filled halfway with popcorn, they butter it. Then they butter it again once it's filled to the top.

Basically, the popcorn's buttered all.

The way.

Down.

"See How They Run", by the way, is the movie we saw. Made the call to head out for a family night late in the afternoon to see a 7:30 showing. Like in the old days.

The movie features Saoirse Ronan and Sam Rockwell in the leads... and they are a thoroughly charming team. Worthy of such an impromptu family movie outing.

Yeah.

I don't know how long it'll be before the patently ordinary stops feeling so special. When going to see a movie together is almost an event.

I don't mind, of course. There are probably more things in our day to days that should be special. That should feel like rare gems. That are genuine treats.

It's just an absolutely unfortunate bummer that we had to come to this realization in the way we all did.

Boooooooo.

For now, though, I will simply say we went out as a family to watch a movie at the theater the other night.

And it was wonderful.

☺️

[fireworkss-exe]

RTC AT PHOENIX THEATER

notes + little details i liked!

There were broken roller coaster tracks hanging from the ceiling

The pictures/videos were projected on a giant "crystal ball" above the proscenium

The uniforms had a maple leaf crest with a cross inside

Virgil crawled around before the show started/during the show

Constance had her pre-Uranium Suite speech scrawled on her hand

Ocean and Constance had friendship bracelets, and Constance had a candy necklace

Noel kept trying to steal attention from Ocean during Uranium Suite

The kids explored the warehouse for a bit before Karnak talked to them

Ocean made the evil eye sign at Virgil

Noel was germophobic- kept using his sleeves to cover his hands whenever he touched anything in the warehouse

Virgil took out the prizes when Karnak listed them

Noel had the cutest teal nail polish

Mischa had a tattoo of Talia's name

Jane was SUPER TINY

Noel clapped after Jane's catchphrase

During Ocean's slideshow, it showed she had dreads as a kid (she's white)

Ocean pointed at Noel when she said "left-wing"

Noel tried to volunteer when Karnak dismissed Ocean

Ocean used pom-poms in WTWN

Noel had a Starbucks cup he kept drinking from

Noel flipped Ocean off when she made the comment about him being not fun to be around

Noel indicated Mischa during the "i wanted a man who would drive me to drink" line

Virgil helped dress Noel in his costume (the costume was just his regular uniform shirt and vest with black shorts, fishnets, the wig, and a green feather scarf

Noel's actor kept making direct eye contact with me

Mischa slapped Noel's ass after Noel's Lament

Ocean and Mischa had a staredown and Mischa chickened out

Noel breakdanced during TSIA

Ocean twerked on Noel during TSIA

When Talia came on screen, it was just Noel in a wig

At the end of Talia, everyone except Jane hugged Mischa

Mischa and Noel held hands a lot

The SABM costume was a metallic cowl + gloves

The way Noel moved in TBOJD made it seem like he broke his neck on the Cyclone

The rest of the choir held umbrellas with christmas lights during TBOJD

After TNBS, Noel and Mischa stood together on one of the balconies

Noel immediately got drunk after one sip of vodka

Karnak shook his head at Constance when she admitted how she lost her virginity

In IJAR, Noel wore the cat ears from SABM, Ocean wore Mischa's hat, Ricky wore Noel's Monique scarf, Constance wore Ricky's SABM cowl, and Mischa held Ocean's pom-poms

At the very end, Jane returned as Penny- she changed her makeup to look natural and wore a red-blonde wig instead of a black one

[klainepolls]

unexpected- day 4 of 7

by: @kurtsascot

day 1, day 2, day 3

POLL AT END DECIDES BLAINES NEXT MOVE

———

“Music Theory,” Blaine says, and, senseless, he continues, “I go to NYU.”

He regrets the confession instantaneously.

Giving Kurt all the ammunition necessary to remember him isn’t his best idea.

He braces himself, wanting to be anywhere but alone in his apartment with Kurt, awaiting his inevitable rejection.

But, the rejection doesn’t come. Instead, a baby pink tinge dusts across Kurt’s cheeks and neck. It’s a similar hue to his lips; a bit sweeter, a tad lighter, but the color’s just as distracting, and Blaine latches onto how the tint smolders under tender overhead light.

“I know,” Kurt says through a laugh, the skin at the corners of his eyes creasing.

Blaine feels himself marginally relax. Okay. Maybe his crush isn’t as obvious as he thought. Maybe Kurt really doesn’t remember him from last semester, and this skittish, jumpy stranger is his first impression of who Blaine is.

Are either of those better options?

Blaine’s not sure.

“Oh?” He prompts, partially lost, partially just wanting to hear Kurt’s voice again.

Kurt rubs his lips together and nods, thoroughly pleased. He throws a puckish glance towards Blaine’s hands.

Following Kurt’s eyes, Blaine finds that the top paper in the pile he holds is decorated with NYU’s crest, offensively enlarged and in full color. His laptop, beneath the assortment of paper, has a Bobcat sticker on the protective case, directly in Kurt’s line of sight, and, his school bag, next to Kurt and by the door, has a pin from NYU’s most recent Choral Arts concert…

“Right.” Blaine ducks his head. He regroups, trying to save himself from further embarrassment. “What about you? Are you in college?”

Blaine watches Kurt adjust his hold on his coat, his fingers clenching and unclenching, the faint squeak of polyester pricking the air. “Yeah,” he starts, treading carefully. “I go to NYU for theater. I graduate at the end of the semester.”

Blaine smiles. “That’s weird, that’s my major too-,” He takes his clutter to the entryway, shoving the assortment into his schoolbag. “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you around.”

There’s a pregnant pause.

Blaine looks up as he zips his bag closed.

He can’t decipher what expression Kurt wears. He’s searching for something to say.

Something’s off.

His smile doesn’t fill his face like it did before.

“Yeah...” Kurt pulls the garment closer to his chest, clears his throat and looks past Blaine, past the couch and down the hallway that leads to his bedroom. “Laundry?” He avoids Blaine’s eyes.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.” Blaine scrambles to stand. He dusts off his knees and takes a few steps forward, before stopping in the hall. He doesn’t have to guide Kurt- his apartment isn’t that big. He shouldn’t hover. “Down the hall, to the right,” he points. “Everything you need should be in there.”

“Thanks,” Kurt mutters. He scoots past Blaine, steps into the laundry room, and clicks the door shut behind him.

Blaine returns to the kitchen and collapses on one of the island’s bar stools, unable to escape the onset of awkward energy that is smothering his apartment.

He sits in his discomfort and fidgets. His foot runs along one of the chair rungs. He listens to the distant echo of Kurt working his way through detergent and topical stain treatments, of water turning on and off.

He doesn’t sound like he’s in a hurry to get out of here, but, it also doesn’t sound like he’s taking his time…

Blaine groans. This is a disaster. He ruined everything, and he’s being a terrible host.

He needs to get himself together.

[darkscorpiox]

Golden Kamuy Headcanon #2 – What kind of Geisha was Ogata Tome?

The only thing we know of Ogata Tome’s time as a geisha is that she worked at Asakusa. It was speculated by @goldenkamuyhunting that Ogata was born in 1882 (1, 2, 3). At that time, Asakusa had three kinds of geishas:  

Hirokoji Geishas (広小路芸者) who worked in the areas of Asakusa Hirokoji (浅草広小路), currently Kaminarimon-dori Street (雷門通り), for the dengaku-chayas (田楽茶屋: teahouses selling tofu dengaku (豆腐田楽)) located there, hence the affectionate nickname Dengaku Geisha (田楽芸者). 

Saruwaka-cho Geishas (猿若町芸者) who worked for the shibai-jayas (芝居茶屋: teahouses working for theaters, serving spectators before a play or during the entr’acte) of the three kabuki theaters of Saruwaka-cho (猿若町), currently 6-chome Asakusa: Ichimura-za, Morita-za and Nakamura-za. The theaters had a cubic ornamental structure displaying their respective crests called yagura (櫓: watchtower, turret), positioned above the entrances, and since the activities of shibai-jayas took place under the latter, the geishas working there were also called Yagurashita Geishas (櫓下芸者).  

(From left to right: Ichimura-za, Morita-za and Nakamura-za)

Sanyabori no Geishas (山谷堀の芸者), commonly called Hori no Geishas (堀の芸者), who worked for the hikite-jayas (引手茶屋: teahouses serving the patrons of red-light districts before their appointments with brothels) of Sanyabori (山谷堀), the (no longer usable) canal leading customers to Yoshiwara by funayados (船宿: houseboats) which they also used to entertain the latter. Because they work close to Saruwaka-cho, they were sometimes placed in the same category. 

(reference: JP / EN) 

Coincidentally, I found out about the existence of a kabuki actor named Sawamura Hyakunosuke (澤村 百之助) (1857 – 1899) who used to perform for one of the kabuki theaters of Saruwaka-cho (1, 2). 

Also, while I was watching the OVA of the Battle in Barato Arc (chapter 56 – 59), I heard Hijikata call Ogata “Yagura ni iru Yatsu”, the “man in the [watch]tower”.  

So, while Noda may not have implied on purpose, I like to believe that Ogata Tome used to be a Saruwaka-cho / Yagurashita Geisha.

[rockatanskette]

I wonder what aliens would think of home team advantage.

I got into hockey a couple years ago to troll my best friend and immediately developed an undying loyalty to my team that goes beyond blood and water. The most surprising thing to me was when I got to go to a playoffs game in my team's home arena prior to the Sickness. Not being a sports person, I'd never been part of a crowd like that before and I could not imagine being a member of an away team skating onto the ice in front of a massive wall of their opponents' colors. It would be intimidating as hell, especially if you had literally no exposure to it.

And to an alien, it might not make sense. Imagine species who use sporting event as purely skill contests, with no social element. Sure, there's entertainment in watching, but only intellectually: watching a skilled person excel at physically demanding tasks. What if there were aliens that watch sporting events like documentaries, who build their "arenas" like black-box theaters, small and dark, and tailored to connoisseurs—and silent. It would be rude, after all, to distract the athletes from their competition.

Imagine these aliens realizing that humans also have similar physical competitions and being curious about if their two species can compare. They invite human teams into their arena theaters to compete with their own and they realize very quickly that humans are not very good at "sports." Even without the distraction of a talking crowd, the humans seem to distract themselves: they seem on edge, perhaps even uncomfortable, and while it becomes clear that they possess some skill, because they do manage to score against leading teams, they seem a far cry from the bombastic, playfully aggressive, overly competitive personalities that humans display in so many other contexts.

And then the humans are gracious enough to invite the aliens to play in their home arenas—and foolish enough to challenge them to bring their best.

"Watch out," one human player says to their alien counterpart, with a twinkle in her eye. "At home, we'll have home team advantage."

At first, this isn't so strange. They do actually have some understanding of what we would call a home team advantage, but only the contextual part: if you train in a familiar space, you will do better in that space because you are more familiar with it. But the aliens aren't worried. Earth has demanded their best athletes and with the humans' displays so far, it's clear that familiarity with the terrain will not do too much to give them an advantage.

They are provided with vids and research about human sporting arenas, which point out that they're made to accommodate massive crowds, but that doesn't faze most of the alien players. Perhaps the crowds are for educational purposes, since so many visual records show human young in the crowds—full family units in fact. It's a bit curious that they're all wearing the colors of the team's...crest? Insignia? But that's humans for you, always looking for groups to align themselves with, even if they don't actually participate. And so they don't think anything of it.

When they enter the building and hear the roaring of thousands of screams they fear something has gone horribly wrong. Some begin to panic, asking if they should leave, until their human interpreter laughs and explains: the voices are not afraid. They're excited to see their team play.

"Who?" The team captain asks, trying to regain composure.

"The fans." The interpreter is almost beaming now. They are wearing a very professional pantsuit and blouse—in the same colors as the team's insignia.

Before the aliens can wonder what rotating blades have to do with sporting events, they're pulled off to a locker room. They won't admit it, but they're already shaken by the sound of the crowd. They're used to playing in polite silence, punctuated by the occasional comment from the audience.

"Now, we know this is a very different experience for you," the interpreter says. "And human sporting events can be overstimulating to a lot of humans. So we've worked with your government to help create personal audio dampeners so you aren't overwhelmed by the noise. We've also requested that the stadium refrain from playing music or putting on any light displays. It'll just be you and the crowd."

That's not as comforting as she might think. And when the alien team comes out onto the playing field, some of them almost bolt. There are so many humans and they're...chanting? At first, the aliens worry that the chanting is for them...but then they hear the name of the opposite team in the rhythm of it and when that team enters, the resounding scream of joy almost breaks through the audio dampeners.

Not only that, the human team they faced only a few rotations ago is nowhere to be seen. Gone are the uneasy, self-conscious players from before. They're confident now, they swagger, and wave to the crowd and the crowd screams back and that only seems to give them more energy. Some of the players begin to remember, then, that humans are hypersocial creatures. Have even been called a hivemind by some, less charitable members of the alien species. But they don't put it together until they play.

The crowd transforms them. They score two points in the first half of the first round and the paper-thin defense that the aliens had broken through easily in prior games has become a solid wall. Even with the sound of the crowd dampened, the aliens can see its effects: the humans' newfound confidence brings out that oh-so-human desire to risk everything on a dangerous play and somehow it almost feels like the crowd betters the odds. But it's not just filling them with confidence and intimidating their opponents. The humans try harder in front of their crowd: move faster, hit stronger, endure longer.

At first, the team captain thinks it's just a fear of embarrassment, at failing in front of so many witnesses. But xi soon realizes it's more than that. They don't just want to not do badly in front of a crowd, they want to do well for the crowd. They want the crowd to scream in joy—and when a human scores the game-winning point they do, surging to their feet as one in a joyful scream that does break through the audio dampeners.

The alien team loses this time, and not just the game. The team captain and xir players have never had such a response to their game and while they don't need the same kind of constant social affirmation humans do, it is enviable to have a whole crowd of people get so much joy out of watching you play. Returning to the sporting theater is almost disappointing, especially when humans in the human team's colors start showing up in the audience. They don't get to yell in these spaces—some do and are quickly asked to leave—but they come anyway. The captain almost wishes to have their own audience. But that isn't done in xir culture and so they push it aside as foolish daydreams. Until they get the comm from Earth. A written message, with a visual component:

"Dear Mx. Aliens: My name is Seul-ki. It's nice to meet you! My friends and I watched the game you played against the Wildcats and thought you did well! I have watched a lot of vids of your games now and I think your team has the best defense in the interplanetary league. My friend Ashwani and I wanted to buy jerseys of your team but you don't have those so we made some. We also wanted to ask you to please let us be your official fan club, because we read you don't have one. Thanks for reading, S & A."

Attached is a picture of two human young smiling and wearing black clothing, with numbers on it. One of them wears the team captain's number and a bright intimidating smile with far too many teeth. A human smile. Xi has forgotten the old adage for dealing with humans: they will get attached to anything. It was meant as a warning, but at the moment, it feels like a blessing.

It would only be a boon to diplomatic relations, xi thinks, to include these youth in their sporting culture. In fact, xi considers with a growing excitement, perhaps xi could even invite the fan club to their home arena. It would be good to hear a crowd calling xir name.

[pochqmqri]

A few months ago, when All Stars F first hit theaters in Japan, I saw some posts from the Japanese side of the fandom that Cure Supreme had a stronger form where her skin "turned brown," which confused me. Even the film director, Yuta Tanaka, and character designer, Nishiki Itaoka, acknowledge it as such in an interview:

Cure Supreme exists as a misinterpretation of Pretty Cure Q: How was Cure Supreme Born? Tanaka: Cure Supreme is a being that only takes an extremely narrow-minded view on Pretty Cure. They see Pretty Cure as only something strong and cool, simply imitating them. If she only understands those superficial aspects, then she truly doesn't get what makes Pretty Cure so strong and allows them to rise above all hardships. In her mind, isn't that all there is to Pretty Cure? By conveying this, we wanted to reaffirm what Pretty Cure has been depicting for the past twenty years....and that's the kind of image born from her existence. Itaoka: In terms of the design used in the story, we started by designing Cure Supreme, then split her off to create Puka, then into the strong Supreme ẞ, as well as her pre-transformed state Prim...other characters were derivatively designed from her. The director gave me notes to start drawing from, but I ignored it all at first. When he looked at the final thing, he had a look of "What the heck is this?!" on his face, lol. What is the "B" that Itaoka-san mentioned? Tanaka: Though it's not specifically stated in the film, the darker-skinned Cure Supreme was referred to as "Supreme ß" among the staff. The gigantic one is "T." The one we first meet is "Supreme Origin." Itaoka: Rather than appear cute, ẞ has a totally cool look, or would it be called "devilish"? The highlights in her eyes are rabbit-shaped. It was introduced as a crest on the back of Cure Supreme before she became ẞ. It's an aggressive design unique to the film.

At the time, there wasn't any screencaps or footage of this form, so I wasn't sure what to make of it. Eventually, the anime comic, which took stills from the film to adapt it, released, as well as the Blu-Ray which came out a few days ago, so I got a better look at "Supreme ß."

...Yeah. For the record, compare this form with Cure Supreme's base form.

She's usually pale as a ghost, mostly because she's an alien. So why is that, when she gets more evil, she turns brown, like a human complexion of brown? Like what are they trying to get at here? That brown skin, along with her black costume, is an indicator of her sinister power?

I get that she has a further stronger form where she's all giant, monstrous, and purplish-black, but I don't see how brown skin relates to that at all?

I haven't seen the film, so I don't know the intricacies of the plot, but it seems that the basic gist is that, Cure Supreme starts out as a villain and ends up becoming good by the end. And judging by how she's been portrayed in promotional material, her skin turns back to normal once she becomes good. What a really great message to send.

All Stars F has been the highest-grossing PreCure film at the box office in the franchise's history, and I understand why, it's a huge love letter built across 20 years, but this piece of colorism that can't be ignored acts as a blemish over it, and the franchise as a whole.

I've been a PreCure fan for about ten years now, and it's been one of my top interests. There are a lot of things I love about it, and things I don't. When "Star Twinkle Pretty Cure" first came out five years ago, I was so ecstatic to see it introduce Elena/Cure Soleil, the first Cure on a main team to have dark/brown skin, that I got to see someone like myself in one of my favorite franchises, but more importantly, that children with darker complexions in Japan could grow up seeing themselves in her. That's why I've been so disappointed that after StarPre, they seemingly gave up on continuing racial diversity, and we haven't had someone like Cure Soleil since.

That's why how they treated Cure Supreme in this film stings so much, because if their message is that brown is evil and pale is good, and that the girl who turns brown when she becomes more evil is a "misrepresentation" of what PreCure is all about, what does that say about Cure Soleil, who also cameos in the film fighting against Cure Supreme and her forces?

And Cure Supreme is not the only recent example of this franchise's colorism. They did something sort of in the opposite direction. Also last year, "Otona Pretty Cure" aired, and we got several new designs for the Cures from a few older seasons, all grown up...and their skin lightened. Most notably, this happened to Saki/Cure Bloom and RIn/Cure Rouge, and even in the anime itself they literally show a flashback scene of Saki when she's younger and more tan, and Rin as an adult de-ageing to her younger self and becoming slightly more tan. So no, you can't claim it's "just the lighting" here.

What are they trying to say here too? One could say that it's because they stopped playing sports their skin became lighter, but we still see Rin play soccer as an adult, so that doesn't apply to her. I think it's an implication that, as Saki and Rin grew into adulthood, they felt pressured to keep up with societal beauty standards, where lighter skin is "better," so they used skin whitening products. This might have been interesting if they tried to portray it as a form of criticism, but they don't even acknowledge it. Tied with the fact that Saki and Rin lose most of their sporty and tomboyish natures as they grow up, it makes it seem like being tan is something "to grow out of" for women. I find this especially bizzare when OtonaPre had several background characters of diverse skin tones/ethnicities, something I praised them for, and would like to actually see in the yearly PreCure anime.

For "Tropical-Rouge! Pretty Cure," we got some concept art of Manatsu/Cure Summer, and a lot of people noticed that she seemed to be slightly more tan in her beta designs. It's a little difficult for me to judge personally, but I'm including this here because TroPre also frustrates me. It's a tropical-themed season and yet almost every character is as pale as a sheet, and you take that in with the fact that this is a season that heavily focuses on makeup. Given the severe amounts of colorism in the makeup industry, as briefly mentioned earlier with skin whitening products, it just shows how little care both Toei and Bandai have about sending a healthy and positive message about skin tone diversity post-StarPre.

Going further back, in "Happiness Charge Pretty Cure," one of the main themes is a network of "international" Pretty Cure, so we have girls from all over the world, and, how the girls of non-European ancestry are depicted are generally really bad ranging from stereotypes to a lack of skin diversity. In the American Pretty Cure team, the Cure in Native American clothing is barely different in skin tone compared to her white peers. The (Asian) Indian Pretty Cure team are barely brown at all. The Egyptian Pretty Cure is as pale as a sheet. The Hawaiian Pretty Cure team is actually relatively well portrayed in terms of skin tone, and they are how the characters in TroPre should have been designed like. I will concede the fact that there are people from those nations who look just like those girls, but when the majority of your franchise is filled with girls of mostly unchanging pale complexions, would it kill the character designers to branch out more?

There are more examples of colorism in this franchise but I feel those are the most major ones I can bring up. A major theme of PreCure nowadays is that "anyone can become a Pretty Cure," from aliens, to boys, dogs, etc. But I now find that message absolutely patronizing with how most of the Cures end up having the same pale and skinny assembly-line-style body types. It makes what they did with Cure Soleil feel like a miracle, and for that, she remains my most favorite Pretty Cure. She came with her own problems too, such as the merchandise lightening her skin or even turning it orange, the amount of screentime she got in StarPre, the prejudiced fandom not buying merch of her compared to other characters, but with how she remains an anomaly, I have to continue defending her. I want this franchise to do much better, and that's why I care a lot about this issue, as well as getting more masc girls like Akira/Cure Chocolat, more disabled girls like Nodoka/Cure Grace, an actual plus-sized Cure, and so on.