#and the era afterward started a year after he died as far as i know

[sort-of-dying]

i love how everyone in dbd automatically knows assumes that edwin is gay. im mean yes it is obvious that this uptight edwardian dead boy likes men, but everyone knows immediately

[mintywolf]

So okay here are the notes on my overly-intricate, still-unwritten CR Daemon AU

The catalyst was mainly me thinking about how absolutely unsettling Pâté would be in a universe where everyone has talking animal companions that are an extension of their soul. Matilda lost hers (a rat named Patter), so the major part of everyone’s fear and distrust of her is not that she looks off, but an instinctive, soul-deep dread and disgust because she has no daemon.* So, to blend in better and to alleviate her own crushing loneliness, Laudna (who has renamed herself because she doesn’t feel like the same person anymore without him) started carrying around a dead rat and pretending he talks. :(

(*apparently.)

And Imogen is the first person in a very long time to regard her with compassion rather than horror. She’s still weirded out by her lack of daemon but once she finds out how she lost him she’s very upset and angry on her behalf. Her daemon (a tressym) is more sympathetic than she is at first and wants to approach and comfort her because she’s so distressed that Laudna doesn’t have a daemon, about which Imogen is initially a little jealous, but once it sinks in for her how absolutely lonely she’s been and for how long (and maybe after they’ve gotten to know each other a little better unless this is like, how they came to understand each other’s soul so well) Imogen’s daemon voluntarily breaks the taboo by letting Laudna touch her. (Out of politeness she also gives Pâté a little nose boop but he kind of freaks her out.)

Now originally this was just going to be a sweet little oneshot about Imogen and her daemon finding a daemon-less weirdo in her garden shed and showing her the first kindness she’s seen in 30 years but I am just incapable of NOT getting overly involved in the Briarwoods backstory, haha.

Sooo back in Vox Machina era Ripley, under the Briarwoods, was doing experiments on Dust and daemons and discovered that the burst of energy released by severing someone from their daemon could be used to open a temporary gate into another world. They pointed her research in that direction, intending to use that power to draw the Whispered One into Exandria. Meanwhile Delilah, intrigued by the severing, started doing experiments of her own on unsuspecting castle staff and citizens of Whitestone. The subjects that didn’t die immediately without their daemons became obedient, soulless thralls that were easy to command, if short-lived (so this is this universe’s equivalent of necromancy) but it wasn’t quite what she was looking for. She wanted to become immortal by separating her daemon (a wolf* ) from herself so that it could travel far distances from her and persist after her death to attach itself to a new vessel. (*originally I had Delilah’s daemon as a pine marten because despite having read the books numerous times I always forget that Pan doesn’t settle as an ermine, he ends up a pine marten too. I chose it because they are elegant and auburn and devious and apparently have a pleasant scent. But it’s kind of a rare animal in fiction so I didn’t want to copy the book that closely even in an au based on it. A wolf is kind of a too-generic animal for her but there’s a reason it’s a wolf.) So poor Matilda and the others were invited to the castle “for study,” which led her to believe that Delilah had taken an interest in her magical abilities and was going to become her tutor but alas. :( The other six and their daemons in the study died outright and though Matilda survived the severing, Patter died shortly afterwards, so Delilah, getting impatient because of the approach of VM, considered her a failed attempt and abandoned her, not realizing that Matilda’s own magic had caused her Dust to cling to her and retained some scraps of her personality and agency so she was more than an empty husk like the other thralls.

Making some final adjustments, she tried it again on Cassandra de Rolo, and this time it worked. Cass was severed from her daemon, which survived, leaving Cass under Delilah’s control while she had her daemon imprisoned. Finally she performed the severing on herself, but her magic and its resentment at being parted from her caused her own daemon to become corrupted by the ritual. (So idk maybe it even started out as a pine marten but ended up . . . that. Vax’s daemon started out as a snake but changed into a raven when he became the Matron’s champion and Percy’s daemon was mutated by Orthax so settled daemons being forced into a new shape under extreme duress is possible in this au. I kind of like the wolf —> Hound of Ill Omen foreshadowing though.) Meanwhile VM were on their way. Percy knew that Ripley was doing some kind of nefarious Science under the Briarwoods but they didn’t know exactly what yet. Then they were suddenly attacked by an extremely messed up looking wolf, which took back Delilah’s stolen grimoire and escaped and they were all like wtfffff because they’d never seen a daemon without a person nearby before and it’s extremely unsettling. Especially one that looks like THAT. So they knew something bad was going on in Whitestone even before they got there and saw all the daemon-less people shambling around pathetically. So even though the plan to open a gate for the Whispered One was foiled (temporarily) by VM, her other experiment worked — she was able to send her daemon far away from herself before she was killed and it moved on to her clones, prolonging her life for another year. After Vox Machina finally burned through all of those as well it went off in search of a new vessel and eventually found Laudna but, unable to bond with her like a regular daemon, it forced its way in. So her Hound of Ill Omen is Delilah’s old daemon, gnawing at her ribs, resentful of Delilah for separating them but resentful of her for not being Delilah, whispering promises of power if she will just accept it as her own.

[ectonurites]

In Tim original he was there when dick parents die and he look like 4-5 and that make me confused bc shouldn’t Tim be more younger than that when dick parents die ? ( I mean the age gap between dick and Tim Probably 8-10 )

OKAY lets take a look at this!

All of this is obviously not currently canon because the New 52 changed things and honestly even before that things could be very inconsistent, but we can try to approximate what Tim, Jason, and Dick's ages and age differences were based on that 1987-1989 era of canon to try to make sense of 'how old Tim should have been when Dick's parents died' (Then I know you didn't bring up Jason but considering how linked Tim's origin is to him he's relevant, so he's in here too)

So in Batman #416 (the issue Dick & Jason first meet), Dick brings up two things relevant to talk about here:

From this we know:

Dick was 19 when Bruce fired him from being Robin

Dick & Bruce were partners for 6 years, meaning Dick was approximately 13 when he began as Robin (I believe other comics reference him being around 12 at the time of his parents' death/becoming Robin, so it could be more like it was 6 full years and dates just don't line up exactly, and he did actually start at 12. This could also be explained as the training time, as later in Lonely Place of Dying Tim mentions there were a few months between the death of Dick's parents and Robin's debut, meaning it could be more like his parents died when he was 12 -> he trained the rest of the time he was 12 -> he properly debuted as Robin at age 13)

For the purposes of working out this logic I'm going to treat these things as happening when Dick was 12

Now the DC Wiki cites that Jason was confirmed as 12 when he met Bruce/became Robin in a letters-to-the-editor type 'bat-signals' page included in Batman #413, however all the scans of that issue I've been able to find don't include those pages (they're often not included in scans of older issues), so I'm not currently able to confirm/deny that. However logistically it makes sense, that way he had a few years in the role before his death, considering we do know he died at age 15 from a few sources including his Death Certificate in the Batman Files:

For the sake of 'needing a number' I'm going to assume that age 12 start time is true.

We then know that Bruce met Jason not too long after he fired Dick based on Batman #408. The start of the issue shows the incident/reason that Bruce fired him (he got very injured by the Joker and Bruce decided he couldn't work with a partner anymore), then it says some weeks (an unspecified number of weeks, but they use the term 'weeks' not 'months' to describe it) passed:

Which brings us to the anniversary of Bruce's parents' death which is when he first meets Jason in crime alley.

So, based on all that so far we can conclude:

Dick's parents died and he became Robin when he was around 12/13

Dick was fired from being Robin after they worked together for six years, at age 19

Soon after Dick became Nightwing (also at 19 I believe), and Jason was taken in by Bruce at age 12 and became Robin after training

(Jason and Dick don't meet for a while though, as it's not until 18 months after being fired that Dick approaches Bruce again (in Batman #416 as referenced earlier), when he and Jason would have probably been around 20/21 and 13/14 respectively)

Jason was killed at age 15, when Dick would have been approximately 22 if we consider this three years after he was fired/Jason met Bruce

Then let's get to Tim! We know that Tim was 13 during Lonely Place of Dying, which takes place not too long after Jason was killed

(Batman #441)

Which gives us that 'Jason is about two years older than Tim' age difference that is commonly used

Now taking that stuff also into consideration:

Jason died at age 15, when Dick would have been approximately 22, and Tim would have been about 13 (theoretically he actually should have been 12 at the time of Jason's death because Jason died in April and Tim's birthday is in July, and Lonely Place of Dying is supposed to be like a few months after Jason's death and we know he's 13 at the time of the story, however I'm almost certain Tim's birthday hadn't been determined yet when the story was written so it definitely didn't factor into the logic when they were writing it. So we should treat it as him being 13, but my brain would yell at me if I didn't at least address that)

So, we can then approximate Tim & Dick's age difference at around 9 years, implying Tim should have been about 3 at the time Dick's parents died, when Dick was 12. Most people usually assume Tim is older than that at the time though, in the 4-5 (or even 6) range like you suggested, based on the art and the fact that Tim has strong memories from that day (of the deaths themselves, and the thing that lets him figure out that Dick is Robin: that the Ringmaster had said only three people could do that quadruple somersault)

However frankly it is possible to have memories from being 3, like it's less common sure and is about the earliest that is average to have, but especially considering it was something he had nightmares about for years afterwards that impacted him, I wouldn't be that surprised by details sticking with him even if it was from when he was that young. Also comics are not ever consistent about drawing people the ages they are so I really don't think that can count as proof of age or anything.

Also, the way he speaks in the flashback to the moment during Batman Year 3 (so before Lonely Place of Dying, because in the LPoD flashbacks we don't actually see him talk at all at this age) feels much more to me like how a preschooler (typically about 3-4) would talk than a kindergartener (typically about 5-6), just as someone who has worked with both age groups before.

(Batman #436)

But I mean i'm not an expert on childhood development stuff like that, so take my opinion there with a grain of salt. I'm more just trying to point out that him being significantly younger than most people assume he was there is definitely possible. I usually only see people point to the parts in LPoD and gloss right over Batman #436 in these discussions.

But yeah! So there's obviously guesswork thrown in here, and comics just in general are not consistent about ages like these things are fluid and do change, but my best guesses based on stuff from that late 80's period (+ the death certificate from later, I know him being 15 is mentioned in other places too but off the top of my head I could not remember and the death certificate is just easiest to find) are:

Tim was about 3 when Dick's parents died

Dick is about 9 years older than him

Jason is about 2 years older than Tim/ 7 years younger than Dick

I hope I worded this in not too confusing of a way, and I'd again like to reiterate this is in no way a definitive thing (there just is no definitive answer, because basically all this kind of stuff gets contradicted at various points) it's just what makes most sense to me after reading through these comics from this era!

[peppersonironi]

Sambucky Fic Recs #2

Part One |

Today's Theme: Soulmate Au's

Welcome to this today's theme! I happen to really enjoy these types of fics and thankfully there's a decent selection in the sambucky tag! Here are Ten fics for your enjoyment! (more under the cut)

1. A Touch of Pain by TowardTheStars

Sam had just turned seven when his world first exploded into pain.

Or, Sam feels his soulmate's pain and wishes to save them from their torment.

Quick warning before we get into things: This is currently a WIP. But I'm finding it great so far! This fic is more Sam-focused with great angst. Also some past Sam/Riley, which I'm always a sucker for!

2. Bright Colors Of Love by Yoursaltness_and_TheMemeQueen

The first time soulmates had skin to skin touch you’d be able to see the colors, that whenever you touched you’d be able to see the world in color, and that the first kiss made colors permanent.

When Sam Wilson is 20 he meets Riley, he falls in love. He takes a risk and holds his hand, the world stays black and white, and he thinks he understands why his aunt says that you don’t need a soulmate to be happy. When Riley dies, there is a bitter part of him that thanks the universe for not making them soulmates. - The first time James “Bucky” Barnes heard about soulmates was through the TV.

He reaches out to hold Steves hand and wonders if the universe can make mistakes.

He decides at about 17 that maybe soulmates are overrated, that the universe is too mysterious to trust. As he’s falling and hears Steve’s cry, he decided the universe is a bitch that knows too much and probably hates his guts. - Flash forward, Bucky knows they're soulmates, Sam doesn't.

Secret Santa Gift for Max!!

This has just the right amount of angst, and I was amazed by how well written it was! I love this fic so much!

3. Reach Out and Hold the Sun by Aluxra

When you touch your soulmate skin to skin, you leave a colour unique to you on them. 106 years and Bucky never received a mark.

Until Now.

Oh my gosh the mutual pining! The uncertainty! The fear of rejection! The utter relief and love that comes at the end! I was grinning ear to ear the whole time reading this!

4. redefining in every way what love is by lovelypenguins1717

On the non-dominant wrist of every person lays a soulmark. A unique mark that appears whenever their soulmate is born. It is the true north to their other half.

Bucky never had a mark and now he’ll never know.

Sam had found his, but the soulmark is meaningless now that Riley’s dead.

But sometimes soulmates are chosen.

*COMPLETE*

Now this is an interesting twist on soulmate aus! I usually love the ones where the people are destined for each other, but I have to admit that I really enjoyed the idea of choosing each other. It was so sweet!

5. Exactly What You're Looking For by @snarky-drabbles

When you lose something, it might appear beside your soulmate in the morning.

Sam never found anything from his soulmate until after Bucky Barnes dragged Steve from the Potomac.

Bucky grew up never finding a thing either, but after he finally gets free from Hydra, he starts finding things beside him the morning.

This is the story of them coming together.

now with a chapter of outtakes and alternate ending

I'll be honest, this fic is hilarious!! The romance aspect and yearning is great, but that ending is just on another level!

More Fics Under the Cut

6. I keep closing my eyes (but I can't blink you out) by @lesbianhozier

Bucky avoids eye contact as much as possible. He can hold a conversation without so much as looking at your face, the only exception to this being Steve. Sam definitely knows why and has seen it a few times before; soulmates. A brief moment of eye contact can change your entire life if it’s with the right person; your soulmate.

canon divergence in Civil War fic. I'll be honest this isn't necessarily my favorite, and it feels a touch weird near the end, but I still enjoyed it! The premise was fascinating and the writing was pretty good.

7. adored by @capnwinghead

The marks were legend - your soulmate's name on one wrist and your enemy's on the other. Most people spent their lives trying to decipher them. Bucky Barnes spent most of his life avoiding them.

Oh the angst in this one!!! So good!!

8. gunmetal grey by Someone_aka_Me

Soulmates wear the same mask, and only your soulmate can remove it.

Sam isn't expecting to find his mask in a history book, worn by a man who's been dead for decades.

I literally cannot sing the praises of this fic enough!!! Holy crap it's so good!!!! It takes place in ca:tws and continues afterwards, but it ignores AoU/ca:cw. I don't read to many fics from this era (working on more of them, though! I got a request for some fic recs, and my research is so much fun!), but I'm honestly adoring this so much. And the writing is so good too! And the whole premise of soulmate masks was fascinating to me! I've never read a fic like this before. BUT I LOVED IT SO MUCH!!!!

9. there is a sweetness in you by Someone_aka_Me

AU: Your soulmate is the only person who cannot hurt you.

Sam gets kicked off a helicarrier — yet he can't help but notice the boot to the chest doesn't hurt like it should.

Yeah, yet another of this kind of au. They seem to be semi-popular for sambucky (Kinda? there aren't too many soulmate au fics though). But I'm a sucker for them, alright? And this one is so cute too! :-D

10. Fortune Tellers And Falling & Fortune Tellers And Falling: Part 2 by @jeffersonshattricks

Prompt: During a “game” Sam is told that is soulmate will be the next person to do “X” to him and it happens to be Bucky. Sam is in denial but destiny cannot be stopped.

&

The is Bucky's POV for the first part of this. It explains how he knew they were soul mates, and shows a bit of what he went through while waiting for Sam to catch up.

A Two-Parter right here, guys! So fun! I love fics that show both POV's, they just add a new dimension, alright? Also, the pining and uncertainty in these are super good!

And that's it for today folks! I really hope you enjoy these! Once again, feel free to hop into my asks and request any trope or theme you'd like! I already got one that I'm currently working on, so that'll be fun! I also have a coupole other themes that I'm working on right now too, and I'm really excited about them!

Also, let me know if you want to be tagged for these!

[moontheoretist]

MCU timeline, if they actually cared about the characters as much as we do:

Phase 1 (setting up the universe)

- Iron Man - Incredible Hulk (+ Bruce’s DID is included and well represented, Hulk is not shown as a monster which cannot control himself so much he hurts everybody around including Betty, in fact he is shown to avoid hurting anybody who isn’t actively shooting at him, Dr Samson and Rick Jones are a must for this origin story, post credit can stay the same) - Hawkeye (includes: his childhood with an abusive father, his brother Bradley, his past in the circus so basically his origin story, his deafness, him being conscripted by SHIELD, and post credit scene with him choosing not to kill Natasha) - Black Widow (includes: her childhood in the Red Room, the fall of USSR and change in Russian politics, KGB being dissolved, Natasha’s breaking of her programming, her leaving the Red Room thanks to meeting Hawkeye, the assassination of Dreykov’s daughter, What Happened in Bucharest, Natasha joining SHIELD, and post credit scene with her taking place of the PA which was supposed to apply to Stark Industries) - Iron Man 2 (+ more info about Howard’s abuse of Tony, Natasha is there, but it’s not her first appearance, and also she isn’t shown as if she knew she was in a movie) - Thor - Captain America: The First Avenger (I think that his stupid behavior in CW is completely set up by his origin story, so I wouldn’t change anything if we wanna have that conflict with him being more concerned about Bucky than literally anything else going on) - Captain Marvel (because her existence makes Fury think about Avengers and explains why Fury wanted to create them in the first place, also action happens mostly on Earth) - Avengers (+ Jane Foster and Darcy are part of the science team and greatly contribute to the plot as scientists, because I am fed up with women being sidelined)

And because Avengers has a post credit with Thanos we should get some movies in space now related to Thanos first, before Iron Man 3.

Phase 2 (we learn about the ultimate badguy)

- Guardians of the Galaxy - Thor: The Dark World (but hopefully better written, + no damselling of Jane) - War Machine (Rhodey’s only movie, Tony is busy doing whatever) - Hawkeye 2 (how Clint dealt with everything which happened during Avengers, how SHIELD agents treated him, introducing his family?, maybe bringing back Barney and showing his relationship with Mockingbird and stuff like those) - Iron Man 3 (without the ableist meta message that all disabled people just wait to become murder machines, but still introducing Extremis) - Black Widow 2 (could be the same story as we got in 2021, introducing Yelena Belova) - Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch (includes: their childhood, how their parents died (Yugoslavia being bombed by NATO, but I doubt Hollywood would ever wanna say it out loud), them growing in orphanage, possibly attending university (universities for citizens in Serbia are free and because Sokovia is based on Serbia, and it is a slavic country we can assume they have that system as well, and there are also social support programs available from both the government and possibly the university as well), the difficulties of a life in which they have to cover their costs of living themselves, because they have no parents, American army stationing in Sokovia, twins getting radicalized, protesting against foreign influences in their country and joining Hydra, experimentation, if they were trained by Hydra to use their powers or not and how were they trained, Sokovia being shown to be normal country instead of breaking apart state which Americans see each time they think about it) - Falcon (Sam’s origin story, his mission in Afghanistan and stuff - I don’t know his origin story, so I dunno what to say here) - Captain America: The Winter Soldier - TV show about the consequences of the movie above. Possibly something akin to Agents of Shield. What happened to the agents, how world reacted to Natasha’s “fuck you”. - Ant-Man (introducing Hank Pym) - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Ultron is Hank Pym’s like in the comics, but in some versions of this Tony helped or provided tech so he still wpuld feel quilty afterwards, + no dying Pietro)

Phase 3 (everything gets complicated, but they prevail)

- Incredible Hulk 2 (what happened to Bruce and Hulk and how they dealt with the idea that Steve literally had his well-being in his ass by inviting Wanda and Pietro to the team, what is going on with Thaddeus Ross and Betty Ross, we meet Jennifer Walters) - Black Panther (different one than the one we got, introduces T'Challa and his family) - Spider-Man: Homecoming (could be earlier, just after Avengers, but *shrugs* this story is written in such a way it is better after Iron Man 3 and Age of Ultron) - Captain Marvel 2 (basically setting up why she didn’t participate in Civil War, my idea was to depower her, but not take her powers away, so she could have some more down to earth stories instead of stories set in space, maybe even explore her alcoholism that way) - Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch 2 (deradicalisation, becoming heroes) - Captain America: Civil War (Accords are better explained, Matt Murdock or Jennifer Walters show up to do exactly that, RAFT is explained as American prison not related to the UN, Steve this time has valid concerns about the Accords, but he still goes ape shit over Bucky, still lies to Tony about his family, because those traits were all set in his origin movie) - The Wasp (Hope’s origin story) - Hawkeye 3 or Hawkeye TV series - Black Widow 3 (something something about Ross hunting her, but Red Room was already taken down, so different story is here instead) - Ant-Man 2 (Wasp is here too, but this is Scott’s movie, previous Ant-Man and The Wasp) - Black Panther 2 (about Kilmonger and T'Challa’s scuffle for the throne) - Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (didn’t know where to put it, because it is mostly unrelated to any other movies with this story about Ego, but it develops Nebula more, so let’s be here) - Doctor Strange - Thor: Ragnarok (I am not opposed to Planet Hulk, but I am more inclined to not put Bruce into a movie which is supposed to be about Thor and Loki so… more time for Brunhilde) - The Winter Soldier (solo Winter Soldier movie) - Avengers Infinity War/Endgame (it makes no sense to make two movies if we can have one, the snap was used as a plot device more than actual defeat of the Avengers, so it can last less than 5 years and also no time travel which then you have to explain why TVA didn’t put everybody in jail for that, Tony doesn’t die and Carol and some other powerful people (LIKE HULK, Hulk is NOT less powerful than Thanos or fearful or something) take down Thanos instead and Tony finally retires and is left alone by everybody goddammit)

Phase 4 (new era, some heroes retire, others take their place, while different ones just get the grip of whom they truly were all along, and also we get a new ultimate bad guy and possibly set a stage for his defeat) <- this one not really well set up, because we don’t know most of the movies and TV shows which appear in this phase so dunno how to set them.

- Spider-Man: Far From Home - Photon (origin story of Monica Rambeau) - War Machine 2 - WandaVision (or Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch 3, adjusted, so it would not repeat some facts and would only remind about the most important stuff. Also, Pietro lives in this timeline so no Bohner guy lol, he is just insufferable brother-in-law to Vision, and weird uncle to kids) - The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (but with Steve who didn’t go back in time, because there was no going back in time in this timeline, he just finally is learning what accountability is and has to forfeit his shield, because it’s time to retire) - Falcon 2 - Winter Soldier 2 - The Wasp 2 - Loki TV series (Loki survives Thanos and is taken by the TVA, it basically doesn’t force the story to make him quickly develop feelings in the first episode and bypasses that issue, + more Loki Variants, all genderluid and presenting in various ways in the show) - Incredible Hulk 3 (Bruce and Hulk finally start communicating and Hulk becomes gradually smarter, and we meet Bruce’s another alter Grey Hulk and the circus with getting along starts all over again, because Grey Hulk hates Green Hulk xD, is setting up She-Hulk) - Shang-Chi and the Legend of Ten Rings - What If…? TV show - Ms Marvel TV show - Eternals (feels like should be in different phase) - Spider-Man: No Way Home - Doctor Strange: In the Multiverse of Madness - Thor: Love and Thunder (about Mighty Thor - Jane) - Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (about Shuri?) - The Marvels (Captain Marvel 3 basically) - Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quntamania (setting mutiple Kaangs I suppose) - Moonknight TV show - She-Hulk TV show - Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 - Blade (feels like should be in different phase) - Fantastic Four - Avengers (in which they fight Kaang?)

I was going with the idea that every superhero should get at least 3 movies ONLY about them. As of now, I managed to put 3 only for a few, and some were swapped for TV shows instead to fill the place and better show the character and what they’re up to, because TV shows have more hours than movies.

I know there are supposed to be TV shows for Armor Wars, Iron Heart and Secret Wars, but I dunno when, so no idea where to put them.

[pilothusband]

Abducted Amphora

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol (not to an excess), food mention (they eat pizza), non-explicit tension, mentions of stealing shit, hints at a boss/employee relationship so there’s a slight power balance there, age gap that isn’t mentioned (he has years of service and she’s almost brand new)

Word count: 1,972

Author’s note: Written for @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday! Lightly edited, unbeta’d. This one is pretty tame compared to my other works. Thinking about turning it into a snapshot series. Let me know what you think!

A smattering of footsteps clatter throughout the courtyard, echoing off the old walls that surround you. Sprawling greens adorn almost every inch of the balcony, reaching out to an impossibly blue pool situated in the middle. You can’t help but gawk as you walk through the museum, trailing your boss by a few paces who is currently following the curator, a middle-aged woman with bouncy curls and a wardrobe to die for.

A few minutes prior, she had introduced herself as Vanessa Harrington, given a firm handshake to the two of you, and hastily made her way to the exhibit where an expensive piece of artwork was stolen.

“What’s weird is, this isn’t even the most expensive piece the museum owns,” she says, glancing backwards and waving her hands. How she manages to walk briskly in stiletto heels without looking forwards is a mystery to you. 

The stolen piece is a Panathenaic amphora from Hellenistic era Greece. It was most likely used to fill with olive oil to give to Olympic champions. Not to say it isn’t valuable, but it had sat nondescript amongst bright and flashy paintings that were incredibly rare and sought after.

“And the security cameras were disabled prior to the theft?” Your boss, Marcus Pike asks, scribbling in his notepad. Vanessa nods in confirmation. “Then they were enabled right after, as if the thieves knew how to hack into the system.”

“Either they knew how to hack into the security system or they had enough insider knowledge to disable it,” you voice your thoughts, not even aware that you were speaking out loud.

Marcus looks over to you, his warm brown eyes flicking over your face in acknowledgement.

Every time his eyes meet yours, you feel yourself freeze up for a moment. No matter that you’ve been working with him for nearly a year, it’s as if time stops every time you look at him. His jaw, square and strong, along with his soft brown eyes that give away to his emotions at any moment. His broad shoulders always manage to get your pulse going, along with his small waist, showcased by the form-fitting button downs he wore under his suit coat.

“We’re going to need all information regarding museum personnel, as well as any vendors that drop by regularly,” Marcus shifts his attention over to Vanessa, who nods decisively.

“Absolutely. I have that all on my office desktop and can get that to you ASAP.”

Vanessa doles out more details for a few minutes and Marcus jots them down– in his unreadable handwriting no doubt– and then Vanessa bids you adieu and spins on her heel to her office, giving you two free rein over the museum.

There isn’t anymore DNA evidence to go over. The local police already had their personnel collect it days prior and the scene was spotless once you arrived. The thieves had been meticulous in leaving as little evidence as possible. The only fingerprints found were already processed and pending a match. They were most likely from an employee, and there’s a good chance it was just normal prints left behind from dusting priceless artwork.

Once Vanessa is out of the room, Marcus turns and places a big hand on your bicep.

“Good job back there, agent.” He flashes an easy grin. Marcus is an incredible boss. He’s driven, observant, kind, and knows when he has to make the tough calls. He’s a natural-born leader. You haven’t been with the bureau for long, being a junior agent among a team of seasoned professionals, but comparing him to other supervisory agents you have met, he’s warm and kind, always making sure his team is in good shape. He’s the kind of guy who’s prepared for anything, whether it be backup for a shootout with an unsub or someone in the room needs a pen before a staff meeting.

You can’t help but feel flushed at his praise. Despite Marcus’ easygoing nature and his openness with the team, he always seems to keep you at an arms’ length. It was getting to the point where you were wondering if he was regretting hiring you in the first place. Marcus often rotates the team when it comes to working directly with him on cases, and you have only worked directly with him once– your first ever case. 

Initially you’re convinced you fucked up so badly that he didn’t want to pair up with you afterwards, but then the case report made its way back to your desk and your evaluation was normal, good even.

“Thank you,” you reply, ducking your face down to hide the growing heat licking its way up your face.

“Let’s grab some lunch, get those files from Mrs. Harringon and start digging.”

You nod in agreement and turn, walking towards the exit. You don’t notice the subtle movement, but Marcus trails you, arm raised as if he’s about to touch your waist, but pauses halfway through and scratches at his chin.

Later on that night, you’re holed up in Marcus’ hotel room, hunched over your laptop reading up on all of the museum employees. Marcus took on the task of reading over vendor files, his shoulders set much straighter.

Your back is screaming at you and your eyes are sapped of all moisture as you blink rapidly, trying to will your tear ducts into submission. It’s too early in the night to fall asleep with the amount of work you have to look forward to, and the longer it takes you to crack the case, the more likely the thieves are to get away with the crime.

“I think we could use a break,” Marcus says from across the room. You look up blearily, noting the look of concern he’s giving you, brow furrowed. He must have caught you in your tired state somehow, between poring over files and jiggling his leg absent-mindedly.

“Can’t argue with that,” you chuckle, rubbing at your eyes.

“I’ll order room service, compliments of the bureau,” he says, smiling sideways. “I’m feeling pizza, what do you think?”

“Pizza sounds heavenly,” you groan.

“What do you want to drink?” Marcus asks, his eyes scanning over the menu unfolded next to his laptop.

“Oh, uh,” you hesitate, trying to decide on caffeine or something healthier. “I think the room has plenty of water.”

“I was thinking something a little stronger,” he says, a small grin making its way over his features. “Nothing too crazy, since we still have work to do.”

“What’s your opinion on red wine?” You ask, wanting to select something you both can agree on.

“I love it,” he says, giving you a toothy smile. “Pinot Noir?”

“Sounds perfect.”

An hour later, you’re both seated on the floor, pizza box spread open between your bodies, munching away at the slices of pepperoni you both decided on and sharing the bottle of wine Marcus ordered.

“Turns out it’s bad optics for the boss to drunkenly sing 9 to 5 by Dolly Parton off-key, and I still get teased for it to this day, which is why I refuse to join the team on karaoke nights,” Marcus finishes. You’re clutching your stomach as you laugh at his story, head thrown back as you giggle. 

You’ve only had a glass and a half of wine at this point, but you can already feel a persistent buzzing in your brain, your head feeling much lighter and much heavier simultaneously. This is what you get for skipping breakfast and lunch, opting to replace them with an afternoon snack and a late dinner.

Marcus laughs along with you, shaking his head and looking down at his slice of pizza.

Your laughter dies down and there’s a moment where it’s quiet, the only noise in the room being Marcus chewing on the crust of his pizza slice, and you taking a sip from your glass.

“This is a nice change,” you blurt out, immediately regretting your outburst.

“Mmm,” Marcus hums around the bite in his mouth. He swallows and looks up at you in question.

“What do you mean?” he asks.

Your eyes meet after he speaks and you can feel your heartbeat accelerating in your chest. God, why did you have to open your big mouth?

“Oh, nothing,” you shake your head. “It’s just…”

You don’t continue and Marcus shifts on his knees, leaning forwards to spur you on.

“It’s just what?”

“Well, I don’t know, it’s stupid.” You say, studying the box of pizza below you, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

“Nothing you could ever say is stupid,” he says with conviction. His tone makes you look up at him in wonder.

“Tell me, please,” he adds softly.

“Well, I thought you didn’t like me. Or that you didn’t think I was a good agent.” You can feel your stomach plunging and your cheeks burning at the admission.

“Why would you think that?” Marcus almost looks hurt.

“God, it’s dumb,” you babble. “But I noticed you haven’t had me partner with you on a case in ages, and you seem to get on with the rest of the team so much easier.”

You risk another look into Marcus’ eyes and he looks absolutely crushed. He cards a hand through his locks and his eyes look far away for a moment. You physically deflate, feeling like the biggest asshole on the planet.

“Hey,” he says, scooting forward and moving the pizza box aside. “You’re an amazing agent. Everything I put in your evals are the truth.”

You don’t reply, but smile softly at him.

“I’m so sorry I’ve made you feel undervalued,” he puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes it. The look on his face, much closer to yours now, is absolutely putting you through the ringer.

Marcus looks disheveled, which is rare for him, as he always looks put-together in the office, not a hair or thread out of place in his tailored suits. His hair is sticking up and his tie is loosened. His brow is furrowed in concern and you have the overwhelming urge to soothe your thumb over it.

“I just–,” he starts and pauses, trying to come up with the right words. “I was so distracted during that case with you, and I never want to put you in that kind of danger again. Especially as a junior agent.”

Distracted?

“What do you mean?” You ask, blinking in confusion. What could have possibly distracted him from the case? This man, so motivated, so focused. He was diligent to a fault, at times.

“I–”

He’s cut off by his cell phone, ringing insistently in his pants pocket. He lifts a finger to pause the conversation and answers the phone.

His expression is focused as he listens to the other end of the line, murmuring affirmations as the call continues.

“Okay, sounds good. We’ll be there first thing in the morning.”

He hangs up the phone, shifts his legs and stuffs it back in his pocket.

“We’ve got a lead on the suspects,” he tells you. “A bodega near the museum has a security camera that caught a large utility van parked in front, right around the time the amphora was stolen. The owner said they’re only available to talk before they open, so we have to be there by 5:30 AM.”

You scramble to your feet and shut your laptop while Marcus clears the pizza and wine. You watch him silently as he finishes the task, noting his stiff shoulders and the carefully neutral expression on his face.

You’ll have to ask Marcus about the conversation later, if you can work yourself up to it. For now, you’ll let your imagination run wild and hope someday you can get over this juvenile crush you have on your boss.

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[kuramirocket]

On July 10, 1520, Aztec forces vanquished the Spanish conquistador Hernán Cortés and his men, driving them from Tenochtitlan, capital of the Aztec empire. The Spanish soldiers were wounded and killed as they fled, trying in vain to drag stolen gold and jewels with them.

By September, an unexpected ally of the would-be conquerors had reached the city: the variola virus, which causes smallpox.

How the Aztecs responded to this threat would prove critical.

The Aztecs were no strangers to plagues. Among the speeches recorded in their rhetoric and moral philosophy, we find a warning to new kings concerning their divinely ordained role in the event of contagion:

Sickness will arrive during your time. How will it be when the city becomes, is made, a place of desolation? Just how will it be when everything lies in darkness, despair? You will also go rushing to your death right then and there. In an instant, you will be over.

Facing a plague, it was vital that the king respond with grace. They warned:

Do not be a fool. Do not rush your words, do not interrupt or confuse people. Instead find, grasp, arrive at the truth. Make no one weep. Cause no sadness. Injure no one. Do not show rage or frighten folks. Do not create a scandal or speak with vanity. Do not ridicule. For vain words and mockery are no longer your office. Never, of your own will, make yourself less, diminished. Bring no scorn upon the nation, its leadership, the government.

Retract your teeth and claws. Gladden your people. Unite them, humor them, please them. Make your nation happy. Help each find their proper place. That way you’ll be esteemed, renowned. And when our Lord extinguishes you, the old ones will weep and sigh.

If a king did not follow this advice, if his rule caused more suffering than it abated, then the people prayed to Tezcatlipoca for any number of consequences, including his death:

May he be made an example of. Let him receive some reprimand, whatever you choose. Perhaps punishment. Disease. Perhaps you’ll let your honor and glory fall to another of your friends, those who weep in sorrow now. For they do exist. They live. You have no want of friends. They are sighing before you, humble. Choose one of them.

Perhaps he [the bad ruler] will experience what the common folk do: suffering, anguish, lack of food and clothing. And perhaps you will give him the greatest punishments: paralysis, blindness, rotting infection.

Or will he instead soon depart this world? Will you bring about his death? Will he get to know our future home, the place with no exits, no smoke holes? Maybe he will meet the Lord of Death, Mictlanteuctli, mother and father of us all.

Clearly, the Aztecs took the responsibilities of leadership very seriously. Beyond uplifting morale, a king’s principal duty in times of contagion was deploying his subjects to “their proper place” so that the kingdom could continue to function. This included mobilizing the titicih, doctor-healers with vast herbal knowledge, most of them women pledged to the primal mother goddess Teteoh Innan.

What about the rest of the people? As with our own modern call for “thoughts and prayers,” the Aztecs believed their principal collective tool for fending off epidemics was a humble appeal to Tezcatlipoca. The very first speech of their text of rhetoric and moral philosophy was a supplication to destroy plague. After admitting how much they might deserve this scourge and recognizing the divine right of Tezcatlipoca to punish them however he sees fit, the desperate Aztecs tried to get their powerful god to consider the worst-case outcome of his vengeance:

O Master, how in truth can your heart desire this? How can you wish it? Have you abandoned your subjects? Is this all? Is this how it is now? Will the common folk just go away, be destroyed? Will the governed perish? Will emptiness and darkness prevail? Will your cities become choked with trees and vines, filled with fallen stones? Will the pyramids in your sacred places crumble to the ground?

Will your anger never be reversed? Will you look no more upon the common folk? For—ah!—this plague is destroying them! Darkness has fallen! Let this be enough. Stop amusing yourself, O Master, O Lord. Let the earth be at rest! I fall before you. I throw myself before you, casting myself into the place from which no one rises, the place of terror and fear, crying out: O Master, perform your office … do your job!

Smallpox arrived in Mesoamerica with a second wave of Spaniards who joined forces with Cortés. According to one account, they had with them an enslaved African man known as Francisco Eguía, who was suffering from smallpox. He, like many others on the continent of his birth, had no immunity to the disease carried there by the slave traders.

Eguía died in the care of Totonac people near Veracruz, the port city established by the Spanish some 250 miles east of the Aztec capital. His caretakers became infected. Smallpox spreads easily: not only blood and saliva, but also skin-to-skin contact (handshakes, hugs) and airborne respiratory droplets. It raced through a population with no herd immunity at all: along the coast, over the mountains, across the waters of Lake Texcoco, into the very heart of the populous empire.

The epidemic lasted 70 days in the city of Tenochtitlan. It killed 40 percent of the inhabitants, including the emperor, Cuitlahuac. Had he found it increasingly difficult to keep his people’s spirits up as tradition commanded? Had his leadership faltered? Did his subjects pray for his death?

Whatever the case, the memory of that devastation would echo for centuries. Some Nahuas—mostly the sons and grandsons of Aztec nobility—described the devastation decades after the conquest.

Their account harrows the soul:

It started during Tepeilhuitl [the 13th month of the solar calendar], when a vast human devastation spread over everyone. Some were covered in pustules, which spread everywhere, on people’s faces, heads, chests, etc. There was great loss of life; many people died of it.

They could not walk anymore. They just lay in bed in their homes. They could not move anymore, could not shift themselves, could not sit up or stretch out on their sides. They could not lay flat on their backs or even face down. If they even stirred, they screamed out in pain.

Many died of hunger, too. They starved because no one was left to care for the others; no one could attend to anyone else. On some people, the pustules were few and far between. They caused little discomfort, and those folks did not die. Still others had their faces marred.

By Panquetzaliztli [the 15th month of the solar year], it began to fade. At that time the brave warriors of the Mexica managed to recover.

But a hard lesson had been learned. None of the old remedies had worked. Entire families were gone. Funeral pyres effaced the sun.

The epidemic was only the beginning of the unexpected forces working in tandem to bring down the Aztec empire. On May 22, 1521—just as Tenochtitlan was beginning to recover, trying to rebuild trade routes, restock its supplies, replant its fields and aquatic chinampa gardens—Cortés returned.

This time he commanded more Spanish troops, men from the same second wave that had brought the smallpox. With them marched tens of thousands of Tlaxcaltecah warriors, the sworn enemies of the Aztecs. Smallpox had reached Tlaxcallan first, but its people—not as densely packed in urban areas like the Mexica—had fared better and were now ready to finish off their rivals.

The massive military force laid siege to the Aztec capital. Even with more than half the population dead or disabled, with little food or water or supplies, the Mexica held the city for three months.

Then, on August 13, 1521, it fell. Emptiness and darkness indeed prevailed.

Lines from a song composed by an unknown Mexica not long afterward sums up the emotions of the survivors:

It is our God who brings down

His wrath, His awesome might

upon our heads.

So friends, weep at the realization—

we abandon the Mexica Way.

Now the water is bitter,

the food is bitter: that

is what the Giver of Life

has wrought.

Without the smallpox, it’s much less likely Cortés and his allies could have taken Tenochtitlan. 

The plague—cocoliztli—was the most devastating post-conquest epidemic in large parts of Mexico, wiping out somewhere around 80 percent of the native population.

“Somewhere around” because population estimates are difficult to come by, with extrapolations made from incomplete colonial sources that date back to precolonial times. For the ethnohistorian Charles Gibson, there is no “sure method for determining whether the later [colonial era] counts were more accurate or less accurate than the earlier ones,” so that “the magnitude of the unrecorded population seems unrecoverable.”

Nevertheless, Gibson’s best estimate is a population of 1,500,000 inhabitants of the Valley of Mexico at the time of first contact with Europeans. There was a sharp fall of about 325,000 by 1570; a drastic fall to about 70,000 by the mid-seventeenth century; followed by slow growth to about 275,000 by 1800. Gibson’s figures are simply staggering. They give us a rough impression, but tell us little about the suffering and massive social upheaval caused by these catastrophes.

Slavery, forced labor, wars, and large-scale resettlements all worked together to make indigenous communities more vulnerable to disease.

According to the “Virgin Soil” theory, the epidemics were so desctructive because “the populations at risk have had no previous contact with the diseases that strike them and are therefore immunologically… defenceless,” as the psychiatrist David Jones writes in the William & Mary Quarterly. The theory is still widespread, often devolving into vague claims that indigenous people had “no immunity” to the new epidemics. By now we know that the lack of immunity played a role, but mostly early on. Current research instead emphasizes an interplay of influences, for the most part triggered by Europeans: slavery, forced labor, wars, and large-scale resettlements all worked together to make indigenous communities more vulnerable to disease.

According to a group of scholars writing in the journal Latin American Antiquity, in colonial Mexico, “by the mid-17th century, many… communities had failed, victims of massive population decline, environmental degradation, and economic collapse.” This is why it’s crucial for today’s scholars to emphasize the influence of colonial policies—as opposed to the Virgin Soil theory, which shifts responsibility away from Europeans.

One peak of the epidemic occurred in the 1570s. The exact pathogen that caused that epidemic is not yet known. Some scholars have speculated that, since it struck mostly younger people, it might have been something unique to the New World and reminiscent of the Spanish Influenza outbreak, possibly a tropical hemorrhagic fever. Other recent theories include Salmonella, or a combination of diseases. Native communities were the main victims of this epidemic due to their poverty, malnourishment, and harsh working conditions compared to the Spanish population.

Three Circles in the Sun

Aztec authors from central Mexico noted their reactions to the epidemics in fascinating detail. Writing 100 years after the Spanish military takeover, they were painfully aware of the consequences of epidemics and colonization: epidemics had taken place before, but the unprecedented scale of the disasters caused widespread incomprehension, sadness, and anger.

Much of the extant writing by Aztec authors dates to the turn of the seventeenth century. Many of the authors had experienced the plague themselves, its effects still fresh in their memories. I want to focus on two pieces of writing: a report by the well-known historian Diego Muñoz Camargo from Tlaxcala, written in Spanish; and an anonymous text in the indigenous language, Nahuatl, from the Puebla region.

As Diego Muñoz Camargo, the famous historian from the era, wrote:

In 1576, another great pestilence struck this land, bringing death and destruction to the native population. It lasted over a year and brought ruin and decay to most of New Spain [the Spanish Viceroyalty covering today’s Mexico], as the native population was then almost extinct. One month before the outbreak of the disease, an obvious sign had been seen in the sky: three circles in the sun, resembling bleeding or exploding suns, in which the colours merged. The colours of those three circles were those of the rainbow and could be seen from eight o’clock until almost one o’clock at noon.

This passage demonstrates the great importance of omens for the Aztecs. 

It is not surprising that the second report, from the smaller community of Tecamachalco, also links diseases with the appearance of a comet. Probably written by the native noble Don Mateo Sánchez, the text shows the extent of the catastrophe in words quite similar to Diego Muñoz Camargo’s:

On the first day of August [of 1576] the great sickness began here in Techamachalco. It was really strong; there was no resisting. At the end of August began the processions because of the sickness. They finished on the ninth day. Because of it, many people died, young men and women, those who were old men and women, or children… When the month of October began, thirty people had been buried. In just two or three days they would die… They lost their senses. They thought of just anything and would die.

Several of Don Mateo’s family members also died, including his wife and the alcalde (mayor) of his quarter. Don Mateo then took over the post of alcalde. One can sense his incomprehension and anguish. The decimation of the indigenous elites is evident throughout his account.

This decimation contributed to the transformation of native societies well into the seventeenth century, including forced native labor and resettlements, the introduction of hierarchical Spanish laws and government, Christianity, and the alphabet. Together with increasing European immigration, the epidemic led to a massive upheaval of indigenous sociopolitical organization and ways of life, especially in the Valley of Mexico.

Don Mateo’s is not the only surviving account of the epidemic from an indigenous perspective. Other anonymous annals from Puebla and Tlaxcala from the era discuss earlier waves of disease, which remained firmly rooted in collective memory more than 100 years after the events. Like Mateo, these sources do not try to account for the origin of the disease, but they provide an idea of the scale and horror of the epidemic and the personal tragedies involved, the uprooting of families, of whole towns.

Meanwhile, the Spaniards’ narratives tried to explain the catastrophic effect the disease had on the indigenous population by pointing to difficult living conditions. But they also interpreted it as divine punishment for paganism and a sign of the native peoples’ alleged inferiority to Europeans. Of course, European remedies such as bloodletting, used in hospitals to treat indigenous patients, worsened conditions instead of healing them. Ultimately, the Spanish Crown feared above all a further loss of cheap or unpaid labour; the priests a loss of souls to be converted.

Holding Off Oblivion

Despite the harsh conditions, the descendants of the Aztecs did not give up—as has long been claimed in traditional scholarship. As the historian Camilla Townsend has argued, the demographic collapse lent urgency to the projects of major native historians—including the authors I’ve cited in this essay. Nearly all pre-Hispanic sources were destroyed by the Spanish, with some lost over time. The Chalca scholar Domingo de Chimalpahin commented on this confluence of factors: the destruction of sources and abandonment of communities strengthened his sense of responsibility to future generations. By writing history, he attempted to save his ancestors’ past from looming oblivion. Drawing on pre-Hispanic faith, continuing political participation, and recording the histories of their people: these are some of the ways in which Aztecs proactively shaped their lives following colonial devastation.

Centuries of colonial exploitation and violence have made the indigenous peoples of both Americas disproportionately vulnerable to current epidemics. This makes the resilience of indigenous peoples and cultures all the more incredible. Such resilience has developed over more than 500 years, in the face of continual adversity and disregard. Native American peoples provide varied and remarkable testimonies on weathering existential crises. The least we can do, in the midst of the current pandemic, is listen.

Other Source

[phoenixyfriend]

"this isn't quite what I expected" Hinata and [whomever you think would be funniest.]

Arranged Marriage Starters

Hmmmmm okay fuck it we’re doing time-travel.

Warning for... very odd attitudes about ‘breeding’ from clan POV. Like... you know what I mean. (The weird fanon eugenics vibes of the Hyuuga do not gel with me, so I’m just going to treat them like purebred cats.)

Also this did NOT end up ‘whatever is funniest,’ holy smokes.

She is seventeen, unsealed, and... perfect.

She is not a perfect warrior, no. She is not even a perfect lady, or a perfect spy. No, the woman from the future is the perfection of a Main Line child unmarred by the inbreeding they are so careful to avoid but so liable to run into.

The examination of her eyes leaves the medic breathless. Her skin is clearer than they think possible--apparently the formation of a village will lead to better nutrition, better hygiene, better hospitals. Her hair is like silk.

She is as perfect as a doll.

“I am not a broodmare,” she says, when the whispers first start. “And I refuse to allow the barbarism of the Caged Bird Seal to continue.”

“Hold your tongue, girl!”

She lifts her head. She watches.

She is far too calm.

“I promised my cousin, as he died on the battlefield, that I would abolish the seal. I keep my promises, Honorable Elder. It is my nindo.”

A porcelain doll with a backbone of steel.

-----

She was born the heir, and for all that she is an intruder to this era, Hinata is still an heir. The current clan head is young, and has no children. With Hinata unsealed and powerful, young and lithe and useful, she is easily slotted into the role of heir. Her blood befits it, supposedly.

Oh they titter, for sure. Hinata is capable of wearing the clothing of the time, but she prefers things in a cut closer to what she arrived in. She spent years building up her confidence to the point where she could bare her arms. She had months with Ino coaching her into taking pride in her muscles, teaching her to be unashamed of her chest. Hinata refuses to let them take that away from her.

They sneer, some of them, but Hinata is not the child she once was. She fought in the Fourth War. She attacked Pein alone. She has fought a Rinnegan and survived, if only because of the man she loved, and she is no longer the kind of girl that is cowed by an elderly fool with a cutting remark.

But she is still an heir, and not a clan head in her own right. There is no affection to hold back Hyuuga Hideki, not as there was with Hiashi or as there would have been with Hanabi. Hideki does not know her, for all that her genealogy lists him as her great-grandfather, and he thinks little of setting her up for a marriage.

“Am I to know the name of my groom?” Hinata asks.

(She does not worry for leaving the clan. They would not waste a Byakugan as clear as hers. They will bring in new, strong blood, for the so-called purity of Hinata’s line is a scant generation from breaking to something ugly, but they will keep her and her groom within the clan. Her children, her eyes, belong to the clan. They dare not let her leave, and to sell her off is anathema.)

“No,” Hideki tells her. “We haven’t decided.”

“I see.”

-----

There’s a pang in her heart, when she looks at the wedding kimono. She’d hoped for love, before. She’d hoped for Naruto’s hand in hers, or if he did not want her, to find and grow a relationship with another. She’d have been able to have her pick of the pack, so to speak.

Perfect, unmarred heiress.

(What a disgusting role, truly.)

Several branch members help her into the layers and layers of formal dress. They comb her hair into too-complex twists and paint her face in ways that feel old and unpleasant.

(Tradition is as tradition does, but to be nearly a century in the past is stifling.)

Hinata is not a broodmare, and she has been clear on such a point, but she is still a valuable piece on the board that the clan has received without expectation. They use her as they use anyone. She is here to battle on the field, if necessary, but she is far more vital in securing an alliance. Principled, they call her. Headstrong for ideals that barely exist yet, ideals that won’t be commonplace for decades yet.

“Silk hiding steel,” one elderly branch woman says, approval in her eyes and on her tongue. “I hope they keep you.”

Hinata never wanted to be clan head, but there is no Hanabi here to take up Neji’s cause and drive it to completion. There are no others willing to dedicate themselves to abolishing this wretched seal, and so it falls to Hinata. She will not fail.

Her groom makes such a thing more than feasible.

-----

The wedding is traditional, rigid, and ultimately successful. Hinata is ‘hitched,’ as Kiba might have said, and she keeps her face pleasantly disinterested for the whole of it. The party afterwards is livelier, but only because of the clan she has tied herself to.

They retire soon enough. The marriage is not complete, after all.

“I don’t suppose the Hyuuga are one of the clans willing to take a person’s word for consummation,” her new husband says.

“There are ways of checking after the fact,” she says. She passes a hand over the wall, and the designs painted into the wood glow faintly. “But for the act itself, we have privacy.”

She is eighteen, almost nineteen. She is newly wedded to a man who is a stranger in all but name, and she plans to change history every bit as much as he does.

He still grimaces. “You are... a bit young.”

“You flatter me,” she says. “But I am of an age to be wed, and so of an age to engage in... more carnal matters.”

This does not soothe him. “If you are to beget a child this young... it’s old enough that you’d avoid the worst of the consequences, but the risk is still there. Your body is still changing, as likely as not.”

She cannot help it. She laughs. “I’ve no need to secure a pregnancy as of yet, Honored Husband. While the contract may have stated we consummate immediately, my own clan’s elders have chosen to look the other way if we take a few years to solidify the alliance with a child.”

He’s less than five years older than her, and walks as though he expects and even asks to carry the weight of the world on his own two shoulders. The relief that breaks across his face is almost childlike in its openness.

“I was not informed,” he says. “I am glad to hear it.”

Hinata ducks her head and smiles. “Your concern for me is appreciated. I have some small medical training of my own, and can prevent a pregnancy with relatively little ease until the village your brother spoke of is formed. They would not want to waste a kunoichi with battlefield experience, after all.”

He nods. He hesitates. He asks, nonetheless, “Are you truly so firm in your belief of such? They said you supported the concept of the village, but to see you speak of it so confidently is a surprise.”

Hinata watches him for a moment, and then stands and moves to the armoire. She has very few things left from the future she cannot return to, but there are two she has kept for this situation.

She returns to her husband with her forehead protector in one hand, a ragged bingo book in the other, and a scroll tucked into her obi.

He looks them over. He turns the pages with a crease in his brow, feels at the woven mesh and linen the metal is riveted to. He looks up and asks, “How many decades?”

“Hideki-sama would have been my grandfather. However, as things stand, that is no longer assured,” she says. “You were some fifty years dead when I was sent back in time.”

“I see,” he says, and looks back down. “There are not many Senju or Uchiha in this booklet. Did they not defect at high rates, or...”

“Both clans were down to a single surviving member by the time I was seventeen,” Hinata tells him. “The Uzumaki down to two.”

“So the village system--”

“Was not at fault,” Hinata says. He looks up sharply, and she smiles. “I can tell you how it all happened, and what can be done to prevent it, but it will not be easy.”

“Such things never are,” he says. He looks back down at the bingo book, frowning. “You choose to help save my clan, after I have married into yours. I expect you hope for some aid in return?”

“Oh, to prevent the destruction the Senju and Uchiha is to prevent the end of the world,” she says. “I would do this even if it wasn’t, but as it stands, there is indeed something I will ask you to help with.”

“Something equal to preventing the end of the world?” he asks, and she thinks he may be trying to add a dash of humor to the heavy conversation. She appreciates the attempt, for all that it fails.

“It is to me,” she says instead, and pulls the scroll from her obi. “You are a fuuinjutsu master, are you not?”

“My sister-in-law is better,�� he says. “But yes, I’m nearing such a level.”

Hinata nods. “The history books said as much.”

He eyes her for a moment, brows narrowed, and then unfurls the scroll.

She waits.

It doesn’t take long for him to inhale sharply. “This is barbaric.”

“Yes, I agree,” she says, calm and pleasant. “I’m not supposed to be showing you this. I hope you understand.”

He looks at her. “You want me to change it?”

“Removal first,” she says. “We need a substitute ready when we do so, to prevent at least one angle of argument. A seal that still destroys the eyes at death, but without the... more unpleasant aspects.”

“You want me to help you stage a coup in your own clan.”

“Not a coup. If Hideki is willing to allow for the changes to the seal, then I am uninterested in replacing him. I have no great dreams of leadership, Honored Husband. I simply wish to free my family of their bonds.”

“And to help me save my clan.”

“By saving the world, yes.” She smiles at him. “I’ll save your clan if you save mine?”

He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “I can’t... well. This isn’t quite what I expected.”

“Of that, I’m sure.”

"I agree to your terms,” he says. “Also... while I am like to officially outrank you on the battlefield and in the village that will be, I was under the impression that, within the confines of the Hyuuga compound, you outrank me, and outside of it, we are equals.”

“That is correct.”

“In that regard, please stop addressing me as ‘Honored Husband,’” he says. “It is surprisingly uncomfortable to hear.”

Hinata can’t help but laugh at him again. “Of course. Shall I call you Tobirama-kun instead, then?”

“Am I to address you as ‘Hinata-chan?’” He asks, a tad too dry. “Or simply dear?”

“Darling.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Beloved.”

“I’m not one for pet names.”

“What a shame. I am.”

Yes. She rather thinks this will turn out splendidly. She may not have the true love of her dreams, but this... this will work.

She’ll make sure of it.

[echodrops]

I’m obviously late to the tumble party... but I stumbled across your Notagami Essays posts and they are absolutely Fabulous! Love your writing and the amount of detail you go into :)

So I figured you may be a good person to ask - if you just had to guess (bc as far as I know it’s never been officially confirmed?) but if you had to take a guess or give a rough estimate, how old do you think Yato was when he first met Sakura? We know he’s estimated to be at least a thousand years old, we know he’s - from the start of the series to present - estimated to be somewhere between 18 and his early 20s (physically)... but I can’t find a single thing/discussion/post/stickynote/whatever where it talks about how old he might have been when he first met Sakura - let alone the emotional/psychological effects of Sakura coming into his life and introducing healthy mindset/morals/maternal-influence etc. etc. (obviously no mom and Father’s neglect played a big role in him not knowing how inappropriate it was for him to ‘accidentally touch’ and yell “boobs!” but you can also just say he was so young he didn’t know how inappropriate that was?) My point is: how old do you think Yato was (physically anyway) at the time of their meeting? and Do you know of any discussions or care to share your opinion on how being the no more than the age of blank affected his mental/emotional understanding of Sakura teaching him a new narrative?

Sorry this is a random out of the blue ask 😅😓 if I rambled on and you don’t feel like answering, I get it, just figured it was worth asking :)

I fell down a serious rabbit hole trying to see if I could figure out the answer to this question about Yato’s age but unfortunately I’m mostly coming up empty-handed.

The answer to this question actually depends on two different pieces of information which--as far as I can remember--we’ve never actually been given for certain.

1) We would need to know when Yato was actually born.

The manga has kind of hinted at a total (not physical) age for Yato in the flashbacks which showed him as a young child during the Heian era (putting him somewhere in the vicinity of a little over 1000 years old) and Father not making masks before ~1100 years ago, but the problem is we still don’t know how many years might have passed between this scene (the youngest we’ve ever seen Yato):

And the next flashback scene, where Yato meets Nora:

If gods age normally when they are children, these two scenes might be only a handful of years apart. But if gods don’t age normally, then these two scenes could be decades or centuries apart, which leads to the other missing piece of information (under the read more to save people’s dashes):

2) We would need to know the aging process for gods who are just born/reincarnate.

Up to this point in the manga, we’ve only seen two gods reincarnate--Ebisu (who reincarnated too recently to really help answer this question) and Takemikazuchi. The implication of Takemikazuchi’s backstory is that his shinki forced him to reincarnate and then hid his reincarnation from all of Heaven. The only way they could have kept other gods from noticing that Takemikazuchi had reincarnated would have been by not allowing him to go out at all until he had grown enough to match his previous reincarnation in appearance. This seems to suggest that gods probably do age normally when they are children--hiding Takemikazuchi away for ~20 years seems a lot more likely than being able to hide him away for centuries, after all... (I also feel like I have very vague recollection of some scene in the manga where someone comments on Takemikazuchi not having been around for a “few years,” but it’s been so long since I reread I can’t recall if this is a real moment from the manga or just me misremembering.) 

Overall, however, based on what we’ve seen in the manga, my guess would be that when they’re young, after just being born or being reincarnated, gods age pretty normally. This would suggest that, for the first few years at least, the physical and mental ages of reincarnated/newly born gods actually overlap; baby Ebisu acts like a little kid because he is, in fact, both mentally and physically a little kid.

That would mean that, for all intents and purposes, Yato’s physical and mental ages lined up when he was young and meeting Sakura, and he acted like a little kid because he really was just a little kid, god or not.

(Detour for a second though: 

This line always struck me as interesting in that it might, just might, give us a more specific timeframe for Yato’s “birth”: although the constellations, of course, are visible in the sky every single year, this particular combination of concepts (kanoto-tori, yin metal rooster) is known much more commonly as one of the sixty years on the cyclical Chinese calendar, also used in Japan. Counting back on the calendar, 961 A.D. was a yin metal rooster year and would align just about right for what we know about the timeframe in which Yato later met Sakura (~970ish). Just referencing constellations doesn’t mean Adachitoka was pointing to a specific year, but it might have been another hint as to the timeframe of the flashbacks.

Okay, detour over.)

Anyway, without 100% confirmation on either of those pieces of information--when Yato was born and whether gods age at the same rate as humans after reincarnating--I don’t think it’s really possible to pin down Yato’s “real” age (physically or mentally) at the time he met Sakura. We mostly just have to estimate. 

Personally, based on his size and behavior at the time, I’d put him somewhere between seven and maybe up to ten, but the way Adachitoka draws characters kind of makes it impossible to judge their ages by appearance; Yato is about the same size as Nora when he meets Sakura, implying that he and Nora were around the same physical “age” at that time; meanwhile, Nora is later portrayed as being roughly the same age as Yukine, suggesting she was maybe 12-13ish years old when she died. So, despite being drawn tiny, it’s possible Yato was meant to be anywhere from a little kiddo (6-7) to all the way up to Nora’s age by the time he met Sakura.

But all that said, I think what you were really asking about was more the mental state Yato would have been in when he met Sakura and how his young age would have impacted his ability to change his world views, right? The answer to that is... complicated and could be approached a lot of ways. Coming from a background of working with and educating social work students, there are several common psychological theories of child development that might apply here, for example. 

I’d recommend checking out Erik Erikson’s psychosocial stages of development, though. 

(Pulled from here.)

I don’t have time to explain the entire theory with the complexity it might deserve, but the basic idea is that, as children develop, they experience a series of crises or challenges that they must overcome. Successfully overcoming each challenge results in successful psychological and social development; failing to overcome a challenge in childhood will result in long-term negative impacts later in the child’s life. (There are plenty critiques of this theory too, so don’t take this as gospel or anything--just a theory worth thinking about!)  

Given Father’s lack of interest in teaching Yato basic concepts of humanity, I would put Yato at approximately the “Initiative vs. Guilt” stage when he met Sakura. At this level of Erikson’s theory, children struggle with asserting themselves and developing a healthy sense of how their personal desires might conflict with the expectations and rules set out by others. In this stage, giving a child positive feedback for their actions teaches the child that those actions are “right,” while giving negative feedback teaching the child that their actions are wrong. In order to overcome this particular challenge, children need to begin taking initiative and aligning their actions with social standards; the child acts, and the parental figure reacts--through this process, children learn “I can do X thing but I cannot do Y thing.” 

When you hear things like “Children are cruel,” most often what people are referring to is that it takes time for children to learn empathy and to experience guilt when they cause harm to others; children do not natively understand the repercussions of their actions. It’s only through a process of testing the boundaries, of receiving praise or punishment, that children define what is “right” versus “wrong,” and begin to feel bad when they do something deemed wrong.

And this is pretty much word-for-word what we see Sakura teaching Yato.

If they have healthy role models and caretakers during this phase, children develop successfully. Successful children in this phase get their first taste of personal responsibility; unsuccessful children are (supposedly) plagued for years afterward by a sense of guilt and shame when their actions produce disapproval from everyone around them.

Yato... doesn’t exactly make it through this development stage unscathed, because he receives conflicting definitions of right and wrong from his Father an Sakura:

Which ultimately results in, years later, the Yato we know and love who still does his Father’s bidding to kill humans even though it fills him with a horrific sense of guilt:

Through his time with Sakura, I think it could also be argued that Yato moves into the next stage of Erikson’s theory as well, getting into the “Industry versus Inferiority” crises. 

Meeting Sakura brings out Yato’s true, deep down desire as a god: to help people. (I think it’s important to note that this isn’t something Sakura teaches him--it’s a quality Yato already possessed; it was explicitly Yato’s desire to please people that led to him murdering in his father’s name.)

Once he learns what makes people happy, Yato immediately pursues that with intense focus:

The primary goal of this phase of psychosocial development is to experience a sense of confidence in one’s actions. When children practice their skills, pursue areas where they are praised, and gain new skills and aptitudes through mentoring from healthy role models, they gain confidence in their ability to excel, to fit in with peers their age, and to create meaningful things. By encouraging Yato to pursue positive behaviors--playing peacefully with other children, appreciating natural beauty, and creating useful things like boots for the needy--Sakura moved Yato toward successfully completing this phase and developing a sense of confidence in his actions and his ability to achieve positive things in the world. 

Of course, Father cannot have that (because confident children with a sense of self-worth are much more difficult to abuse), so he puts an immediate end to Sakura’s influence over Yato in the most insidious way possible: although he clearly manipulated the situation to achieve Sakura’s death, out loud, he blames Yato, implying that Sakura’s death was all Yato’s fault, the results of Yato taking unwanted action “industry” and yet failing--creating a sense of “inferiority” instead.

This, of course, haunts Yato all the way to the present, as he--again and again and again--blames himself for things outside his control or failing to live up to expectations that no one in his situation (still being manipulated) could possibly hope to get “right.” 

Finally, you could say that Sakura’s presence is Yato’s life is ultimately what sows the seeds of the manga’s main plot up to this point, with Yato’s quest to create an entirely new identity for himself as a god of fortune instead of a god of calamity. Personally, I would say that Yato is currently still in this phase of development, still working out how to define himself and who he will ultimately become once he is finally free to decide on his own path in life. It was Sakura’s gentle influence--his desire to become the kind of god who could make her smile--that eventually sparked his conflict and finally led Yato to the brink of catastrophe. If he wishes to become the god Sakura told him he could be, he can no longer suffer his father to live.

So, long story longer, I think it can be argued that Yato meeting Sakura at such a young age is EXACTLY what made it possible for him to change, and exactly what has led to his crisis in identifying himself and redefining his sense of right and wrong. 

Uhhhh... I hope that answers your question!

[abybweisse]

🤡 Diedrich

Send 🤡 for a crack theory

Oh, goody. Someone has asked for the one I was hoping for....

Remember the crack theory I had for McMillan?

I see the friendship between Vincent and Diedrich to have some similarities. Like McMillan with our earl and like Tony with Jeff, I have the crack theory that Diedrich’s feelings for Vincent go beyond those of their bet at school. Beyond the apparent friendship that it became.

All three sets met at a boarding school: Jeff and Tony at Snow Wood, our earl and McMillan at Weston, and Vincent and Diedrich at Weston. But the details are a bit different after that.

Our earl and McMillan are an almost perfect fit to the parallel, but Vincent and Diedrich have some interesting similarities to that.

Here’s where they differ but still have similarities:

Vincent and Diedrich are not in the same house, so they cannot be roommates. And yet Diedrich interacts with Vincent... even seeks out confrontations with him. Diedrich accepts the losing “punishment” of becoming Vincent’s fag, and he even accepts the ridiculous term that he has to remain so, even after they are out of school.

An odd example of Diedrich getting a bit carried away in the moment is when Vincent gets into a boat after claiming the prize for his victory (Diedrich becoming his fag for life), and Diedrich goes so far as to start wading into the water after him. Why?

Diedrich acts tough (he’s from Green House, after all), and he tends to continue acting that way. At least part of why Chlaus and Vincent refer to him as a “German beauty” with a hard shell to crack. Is there more to calling him that?

Diedrich does participate in at least some of Vincent’s “adventure”, and he apparently leaves school at the same time to continue doing so, though I have no confirmation either of them left Weston early. I’ve also seen no mention of them graduating, so idk.

To me, there are three really interesting things to look at:

Even after Vincent is dead, Diedrich is still loyal to him and his descendants, or at least to our earl, the last living descendant Diedrich knew about. Vincent’s “prize” for winning the bet didn’t mention anything about Diedrich having to remain loyal or helpful after Vincent is gone. Yes, there is a scene later, in which Vincent is asking Diedrich to help his sons after he’s dead, but is that the only reason he’s continuing to help?

When Undertaker visits Diedrich in Germany and makes fun of how much weight Diedrich has gained in the less than four years since Vincent died, Diedrich basically says he’s glad Vincent isn’t there to see him like this. Even though we know he was already eating a lot of food (like sandwiches) before Vincent died — Vincent used to point that out to him — it’s like Diedrich completely let himself go when Vincent died. And I think part of it was stress-eating (might always have been part of it), but it strikes me as if Diedrich just didn’t even care about his weight/looks afterwards.

Diedrich is a baron with multiple estates. The Weizsäcker estate is apparently one of the smaller ones, if not the smallest. And we have met his butler or steward, as well as seen other household staff. But there is no wife or family, is there? Not even the mention of one. Odd of a man his age in the Victorian era... even for a career military officer. He should have no trouble finding a wife. Is this a clue he’s a “confirmed bachelor”?

This might all boil down to Vincent’s own “beauty” or animal magnetism. Madam Red was so obsessed with him that she wanted to be around him as much as possible, even though that meant helping her sister raise his children. Baron Kelvin was so obsessed with him and his sons that he underwent surgeries in an attempt to “make himself worthy” to “touch” them. What if Diedrich was also simply drawn in by Vincent, and he’s been trying his best to not let it show?

My crack theory for Diedrich: he might secretly harbor an obsession/attraction for Vincent similar to the ones held by Madam Red and Baron Kelvin.

Bonus: Vincent might have known and used this information to manipulate him even more.

[lonestarfangirl2014]

LONESTARS GUIDE TO THE WAYNES AND KANES OF GOTHAM CITY PART ONE REDUX

BRUCE WAYNES UNCLES AND AUNTS(Including by marriage) EDITION

WAYNES

“Waynes never stay down. We RISE”

The Wayne's are one of the so called first families of Gotham

also known as the Founding Families of Gotham or more simply, the Five Families are the five families affiliated with the creation of Gotham as a city.

AGATHA WAYNE

First appearance: Batman issue 89 February 1955

Agatha has been discribed as Thomas Wayne frail elder sister. She occasionally visits Bruce when he’s a adult. On Earth Two where she originally debuted it’s been said that she helped out the next person on this list with young Bruce whenever she could.

It could be possible that either Agatha or the next person on our list was the one to inherit the families gotham based ancestral home based on earth two/Golden age Bruce buying a mansion to live in shortly before becoming Batman

Agatha has a counterpart on new earth/post COIE who is said to be the only sibling of Thomas Wayne(still as a older sister.).

It is unknown if she has ever had kids. On Earth Two there is evidence that Bruce has at least one possibly 1st cousin on his fathers side who I will talk about in another post I’m planning on making about Bruce’s cousins.

PHILIP WAYNE (Not to be confused with Martha’s brother of the same first name whose farther down this list)

First Earth-One appearance: Batman issue 208 February 1969

Originally introduced in the earth-one era of comics it is later revealed that a Philip Wayne did exist on the earlier earth-two in Secret Origins Vol 2 #6 (September, 1986)

On both Earth-One and Earth-Two Philip Wayne was the one who took young Bruce in after he was orphaned.

It is unknown who is older between him and Thomas but based on the appearance of Earth-One Philip(white hair and mustache) I would say that Philip was the older one at least on that earth where both he and Thomas took charge of the family business AKA Wayne Enterprise.

On Earth-Two Thomas was the one to inherit the family fortune suggesting that he was the eldest of the two Wayne sons on that Earth. Earth-Two Philip is only seen once and it’s only a silhouette of him.

It is unknown if he has ever had kids. On Both Earth-Two as well as as Earth-One there is evidence that Bruce has at least one possible paternal 1st cousin on each. Both of them I will talk about in another post I’m planning on making about Bruce’s cousins.

Vanderveer Wayne SR.

first appearance: Powerless episode 3

For the sake of this post I will say a Fourth Wayne sibling to my knowledge has never appeared in the comics HOWEVER a paternal Uncle Of Bruce was introduced in the short lived TV show Powerless as Vanderveer Wayne SR.

Vanderveer Wayne, Sr. was the original boss of Wayne Security, before passing the job to his son Vanderveer Wayne Jr and taking a position on the board of directors of Wayne Enterprise.

Patricia Wayne

First Appearance: Pennyworth episode One

The elder sister of Thomas Wayne. She has been described and shown to be a typical rich party girl who according to Thomas apparently likes to cause scandals that drag the Wayne name through the mud. The foolish sibling to Thomas responsible sibling. They bicker and she calls him names but like any typical siblings they still love eachother.

ON PRIME EARTH/NEW 52 it is said that Thomas Wayne was a only child. As of may 4 2021 none of the other Wayne siblings has so far made a appearance in Any Comics set on Prime earth. But hey screw Canon right?

KANES

“We Stand TOGETHER”

The Kane family was cited as being so rich that the only parts of Gotham that were not owned by them were those owned by the Wayne Family.

NATHAN KANE

First mentioned in Batman Incorporated(don’t quote me on that) taking place on New Earth And is confirmed to exist on Prime Earth as well.

Not much is known about Nathan. We don’t even have a proper picture of him. What we do know is that he is the eldest son(Batman Incorporated vol 1 #4)and he was the one who inherited both the family fortune as well as the family Crest Hill Estate after family Patriarch and Matriarch Roderick and Elizabeth/Elisabeth(seen it spelt both ways) both died. He is called the golden scion of the family.

On New Earth He married the original Batwoman aka Katherine Webb-Kane the year Batman became active in Gotham. He was apparently 40 when he started dating 25 year old Kathy Webb-Kane, 43 when he finally married(the year Batman age 25 debuted in Gotham) and 47 when he died.

Kathy Webb-Kane/ Katrina “Luka” Netz.

First Earth-One appearance: Detective Comics #233 (July, 1956)

First Earth-Two Appearance: The Brave and the Bold #182 (January, 1982)

First New Earth Appearance:Batman #678 (August, 2008)

First Prime Earth Appearance:Batman Incorporated Vol 2 #10 (June, 2013

The Original Batwoman!

Strap in because this is a long one.

On Earth-One her history is as follows: Kathy Kane was a wealthy heiress who gained great acrobatic skills during her career as a circus trapeze artist and stunt cyclist. Becoming infatuated with the Batman, she fashioned herself a costume and secret hide-out and started operating as Batwoman. At first she upstaged Batman and his sidekick Robin in capturing crooks. However, Batman eventually learned her true identity and tracked her to her secret cave hide-out. Showing her how easily it was for him to learn her identity, Batman pointed out that criminals could probably do it just as easily and tried to convince her to drop out of crime fighting. Disobeying Batman's advice, she tried to capture mobster Curt Briggs. During this caper, Batman went missing and Briggs, struck with amnesia, left thinking he was Batman. Ultimately the real Batman reappeared, and Biggs was turned over to the police. Afterwards, Batwoman went back to retirement. However, Kathy Kane became tired of the dull life of a rich heiress and came out of retirement once more in order to recapture a criminal named Elton Cragg. It was during this case that Batwoman gained super-powers and after her heroic deeds, she convinced Batman to let her continue her crime-fighting career. Ironically, around this time, Kathy started dating Bruce Wayne and she started to fall in love with Batman, unaware that they were the same person.

When Bruce Wayne was framed for a crime he didn't commit, Batwoman teamed-up with Robin in order to clear Batman's name. During an undercover mission, Batwoman was captured by a criminal leader and was rescued by the Dynamic Duo. When both Batwoman and reporter Vicki Vale were nominated Gotham City's "Woman of the Year", both tried to upstage each other to get the lead in the contest. With the help of Batman and Robin, both Vicki and Batwoman captured Moose Molloy's gang and both were crowned woman of the year. When Batman and Robin were trapped in a cave in, Ace the Bat-Hound guided Batwoman to help free them and capture the criminal Dr. Midas. Batwoman next helped the Dynamic Duo capture Firefly, aided them in preventing Lex Luthor from atomizing Superman, and helped them capture the Spinner. Batwoman later met with Bat-Mite and working together, they captured some crooks to save the Dynamic Duo.After this adventure, Bat-Mite became infatuated with Batwoman and tried to become her sidekick, creating chaos for everyone until he realized his mistake and left. When trying to solve the mystery of who murdered Professor Lacy after his discovery of a living caveman, Batwoman was saved by the caveman who sacrificed himself to save her from Lacy's killer: Harbin, Lacy's assistant. When Kathy Kane purchased a mystical belt, she becames a target of the criminal Star-Man. The belt sucked Batwoman's life energy from her body and she was saved by Batman and Robin, who arrived in time to stop Star-Man.

When Kathy's niece Betty Kane came to visit her, the young girl learned of her aunt's double identity. Kathy agreed to train Betty to be her sidekick, thinking that the young girl would eventually lose interest. However, to her surprise, Betty proved capable and became Batwoman's sidekick Bat-Girl. On their first mission, the two women helped Batman and Robin defeat King Cobra and his gang.Batwoman then became a victim of Luthor's experiments, who manipulated Kathy and gave her super-powers to fight her allies. After a long struggle, Superman managed to break Lex's control over Kathy and she returned to normal.When Batman and Robin were briefly transformed into alien creatures, Batwoman was one of the few who actually believed they were the real Dynamic Duo, until they were restored to normal.She later helped Batman and Robin capture the "Rockets" Rogan Gang. Later, after Batman and Batwoman were captured by the Moth, they were rescued by Bat-Girl and Robin. Later, Kathy went on a date with Bruce Wayne to an amusement park that was previously the location where the Justice League of America recently had a battle.As Batwoman, Kathy joined Batman on a trip to Washington D.C. to testify to the Senate Committee, leaving their young sidekicks to defend Gotham City in their absence.She next aided Batman and Robin in capturing the criminal known as the Vulcan.

Kathy's romances with Bruce Wayne and Batman became rocky, first during a period where Bruce Wayne was briefly transformed into a child, he made it appear that he's seeing another woman in order to keep Kathy away,and later when Batman, while under the effect of a love potion, fell in love with a woman named Elsie.Kathys romance woes became more complicate when Alpha, the Experimental Man fell in love with her, until the artificial man sacrificed himself to save her from falling off a cliff.

When helping Batman and Robin solve a murder during Mardis Gras, she got into a feud with Vicki Vale over who is the right person for Batman, forming the first of many competitions for Batman's affections.She later helped Batman capture Catman.

When she and Batman were briefly transported to another dimension by invaders from that world, their mortality was in question unless they were freed. During this period, Batwoman managed to get Batman to warm up and admit some of his feelings toward her before they were rescued by Robin and Bat-Girl.

Batwoman's feud with Vicki Vale heat up again when both women tried to determine if Mirror Man's assertions that Bruce Wayne was really Batman were true. When Batman scolded Batwoman for getting in the way of his attempts to capture Catman, she faked her intentions to join the criminal as Cat-Woman, until Catman seemingly died in the battle.Batwoman and Bat-Girl later helped the Dynamic Duo end a feud between the Joker and Clayface,and helped Batman and Robin capture the Terrible Trio

Once more suspecting that Batman and Bruce Wayne are the same man, Kathy Kane was convinced otherwise when Superman posed as Batman. However the plan went awry when a bomb goes off seemingly killing "Batman" and necessitating Superman to pose as the ghost of Batman for a time.

When Batman was briefly transformed into a gigantic creature, Batwoman teamed-up with Robin and Ace the Bat-Hound to track down the crooks that have the cure. After this, Catman reappeared and discovered his costume had mystical properties that gave him nine-lives, allowing him to continue on his crime spree. With her Cat-Woman costume, Batwoman helped Batman and Robin capture him.

Following this adventure, Batwoman went into retirement and disappear from Batman's life almost entirely. She become the owner of a circus, but often longed to return to her former crime fighting career.

Batwoman came out of retirement to aid Batgirl(Barbara Gordon)against Killer Moth and the Cavalier, but her return was never intended to be permanent.Kathy Kane was then present at a surprise party for Bruce Wayne at Wayne Manor.When Batwoman was later disintegrated into nothingness on Barbara Gordon's doorstep, Batgirl and Robin teamed-up to find the cure and restore Batwoman to her normal form. Shortly after this, Batwoman met the Huntress from Earth-Two and aided her in capturing Catwoman, Poison Ivy and Madame Zodiac. When the Freedom Fighters of Earth-X searched for a group of criminals known as the Warmakers, their search led them to the carnival owned by Kathy Kane. Kathy, as Batwoman, aided the Freedom Fighters and Batgirl in defeating the Warmakers. In her last recorded adventure, Kathy Kane was murdered by the League of Assassins who were being manipulated by Ra's al Ghul. Her death was eventually avenged by Batman.

Katherine Kane was also known as Batwoman in the Earth-Two timeline. Her history and career are said to reflect that of her Earth-One counterpart, except for that version's untimely death. When Kathy adopted the role of Batwoman, Batman wanted her to retire from the role for fear that she would be hurt in her costumed exploits. Kane would continue to operate in her costumed identity until she learned that Batman had become deeply romantically interested in someone in his unmasked identity. While Wayne never revealed his identity to her, or explicitly told her of his private life, she said she knew of his change in his attitude to her and assumed as such. She largely retired from her costumed role soon after this. Years later, she learned that Wayne was the original Batman when his costume identity was revealed to the general public after his own demise. Not long after this, Kane resumed her costumed identity when she learned of the presence of a "new" Batman. When she found him, Kathy learned that this Batman belonged in the alternate timeline of Earth-One, but the emotional shock of seeing Batman alive was still great. However, Kathy realized that he was not the love of her life reborn, but was a completely new person.

On New Earth her history is as follows

By age 25, Kathy Webb was an underground film director, a poet, and something of a wild child. But when she met Nathan Kane(who we already established as being a brother to Martha Wayne) , he bought her a circus, and she fell head-over-heels in love with him. They were together for seven years and married for four of those same years(thus making her a aunt by marriage to Bruce,Kate, Beth, And Bette) before he died of a stroke. After this, she was approached by a secret organization called Spyral to find out Batman's secret identity. Assessing the information on the Caped Crusader, she decided the best approach was to make him chase her. To that end, she brushed up on detective skills, martial arts and motor-biking, got a costume and started calling herself Batwoman. Her plan worked, and within a few months they were an item. However, Batman was careful not to give her his secret identity, and in fact worked out hers first. This, coupled with her feelings for Batman, lead her to try and break off ties with Spyral. However, her employer, the mysterious Agent-Zero, turned the tables on her, forcing her to break off on both sides, which she did. She was believed to be killed by the Bronze Tiger on behalf of the League of Assassins. The second Batwoman Kate Kane(who like Her cousins Bruce and Bette is Kathy’s relative by way of marriage) investigated the murder, but could not find anything. That was because she was never killed; after a staged death, she worked behind the scenes with Spyral to stop Leviathan. She eventually succeeded in shooting Talia al Ghul during her final standoff with Batman, before claiming that she would not be meeting Batman again, leaving to continue leading Spyral.

On Prime Earth she is Katrina "Luka" Netz one of Spyral's oldest members and the daughter of the former Director of Spyral Herr Netz. Kathy presumably being a alias that she used. Based on what I read in the comics I believe her role as Batwoman is still be canon due to nightwing recognizing her voice at one point and if not then at least her marriage to Nathan Kane is still canon.

PHILIP KANE

First appearance: Batman vol 2 issue 21 August 2013

Introduced during Zero Year(the volume he’s introduced in isn’t in the hardback version however) on Prime Earth Philip Kane ran Wayne Enterprise in Bruce’s absence. While Bruce was traveling the world training, Philip held down the business with his adviser Edward Nygma(we all know how well that turned out)

He had studied to be a geologist as a younger man, he was on a Expedition in northern Mexico when his father Roderick learned that he was dying and had came to get Philip to take him back home. Philip and his father fought because he didn’t want to go. Their fighting resulted in Philip splitting his head open which resulted in him getting a metal plate in his head.

He had given up that dream to take up the responsibility of helping to run the family business. During the Time that Bruce was abroad Philip managed to in his own words “Finally Merged the families” with both families companies(Kane Materials/Kane indrustries, Wayne Industry)seemingly merging into Wayne Enterprise.

Philip was the one who had Bruce Wayne declared legally dead which Bruce originally didn’t want to reverse. Philip Kane was also the one who was able to mostly track where Bruce was during his training. Not even Alfred knew where he was.

Philip was unfortunately blackmailed like many other citizens of Gotham by Red Hood One into joining the Red Hood gang. Being branded “Red Hood 347”, Philip did the bidding of the gang leader until Kane turned. During Batman’s assault on Red Hood One at the Ace chemical processing plant(which ironically on new earth used to belong to the Kane family as Kane Chemicals before being sold and the company Renamed Ace Chemicals )Philip gave his life to distract the Red Hood while the villain was going to kill Batman.

Trivia:Philip Kane was the one who originally own the Giant Penny whose forging he had overseen himself.

THE UNSEEN UNNAMED PARENTS OF MARY ELIZABETH(Bette) KANE

No names or appearances have ever been given for these two.

Bette’s mom was mentioned in one issue of Batwoman and that was it. Seriously it was one where it's implied she already gave up on her daughter surviving her injuries and so she was off panel implied to be talking to the doctors about donating bettes organs or something when Jacob kane was rambling besides a comatose bette. Yeah it was implied that they moved out to the west coast and lived in California because I believe that's where bette grew up in most continuities.

Next up is one every one who kept up with Bat related related comics since 2011 should be very familiar with

JACOB KANE

First New Earth Appearance: 52 #7 (August, 2006)(in a photograph alongside his second wife)/Detective Comics issue 854 August 2009

First Prime Earth Appearance: Batwoman Vol 2 #0 (November, 2012)

A lifelong soldier, Jacob had been a field officer with USSOCOM for most of his career, leading numerous tactical operations across the globe

He and his first wife Gabi are parents to twins Beth and Kate Kane

Jacob has earned the following military awards: the Army Achievement Medal, the Kosovo Campaign Medal, the Afghanistan Campaign Medal, the Iraq Campaign Medal, the Global War on Terrorism Expeditionary Medal, the Global War on Terrorism Service Medal, the NATO Medal for Kosovo, the Kuwait Liberation Medal, the Presidential Unit Citation, the Meritorious Unit Commendation, and an Army Aviator Badge. Jacob has worked extensively with military intelligence services.

The Kanes often moved due to the nature of Jacob and Gabi’s work. Jacob was frequently away from home, since his duties included intervention in various international military crises.

They eventually moved to Brussels in Belgium, since the parents were now serving at NATO. However, the family was soon torn apart due to a terrorist attack. Gabi took her daughters out to celebrate their twelfth birthday, and they were kidnapped by heavily armed men. Military intelligence eventually located the hostages, and Jacob was put in charge of the tactical unit sent to rescue them. However, they were too late, as his wife had been executed and his daughter Elizabeth was believed to be dead. He rescued Kate himself, but she was traumatized by the sight of her dead mother and sister.

Colonel Kane plays an important role in his daughter’s Batwoman operations. He provides her a one-man command, control, and communications center. They stay in constant radio link, with the elder Kane being able to run searches, provide advice, and generally work in the background using his considerable knowledge, contacts and experience. Colonel Kane primarily uses his connections and his intelligence-gathering and management skills. He has access to numerous databases that are normally only accessible to military and law enforcement personnel to provide intel to his daughter.

Jacob is the next kane sibling most people would know about in part thanks to both his comic appearances In multiple bat comics as well as his appearance on the arrowverse batwoman tv show.

Gabrielle Kane(knee Goldstein in the arrowverse)

First New Earth Appearance: Detective Comics 855 September 2009

First Prime Earth Appearance: Batwoman volume 2 issue 27 March 2014

Captain Gabi Kane is the mother of Kate Kane (who later became Batwoman) and her identical twin Beth Kane. A member of the US Army’s 525th Battlefield Surveillance Brigade, she married another soldier, Jacob Kane. Both Kanes worked extensively with military intelligence services, and often moved as a result, even after their children were born. On Prime Earth When her sister-in-law Martha died she went to the funeral with both her husband and Kids. She reminded her husband that not all of Martha was dead(referring to Bruce) Eventually, the Kanes moved to Brussels, Belgium, since the parents were now serving at NATO. The family, however, was torn apart due to a terrorist attack. As Gabi was taking her daughters for their 12th birthday, they were kidnapped by heavily armed men. Military intelligence eventually located the hostages, and Jacob was put in charge of the tactical unit sent to rescue them. However, they were too late, as Gabi had been executed. Jacob rescued Kate himself, but she was traumatized by the sight of her dead mother and her supposedly dead sister.

TRIVIA: Gabi had a tattoo of the Special Forces arrowhead insignia on her right bicep; her daughter Kate later copied this.

Catherine Hamilton-Kane

First New Earth appearance: 52 #7 (August, 2006)(in a photograph alongside her husband)/Detective Comics Vol 1 #856 October, 2009

First Prime Earth Appearance: Batwoman Vol 2 #0 (November, 2012)

Heiress to the Hamilton arms fortune(called Hamilton dynamics in the batwoman tv show), and second wife of Jacob Kane.

Cathy is a jet-setter and socialite involved in politics.The Hamilton fortune was built upon guns. Catherine family owned the enormously successful Hamilton company, which apparently became a household name during the days of the Old West Firearms. Appears to care greatly for her niece by marriage(one can assume she might feel the same for Bruce if and when she finds out he’s Batman) if the way she reacted to finding out about Bette being a vilgilante in the comics is any indication.

[cheshiresense]

Could you do KoyoIchi (Swinging Pendulum), please? C: I have fallen in love with this ship ever since you posted those short one-shots (or whatever they are called) a while ago.

Hmm you didn’t include an AU and I’ve already done a KoyoIchi SP AU in the last batch, there’s not much else I can write for that I think. So how about KoyoIchi post-canon AU instead, where Ichigo’s human body gives out after the Quincy War, so he ends up splitting his time between SS and the Human world afterwards.

Edit: omg wtf did i do i went off i’m sorry this ended up semi-background pre-relationship KoyoIchi + like a dozen unrelated headcanons thrown in it’s a mess fml

1. It’s not usually done, he’s technically dead now (but not a Shinigami, not a Quincy, not a Hollow, and not even a Human anymore), but he has a lot of support from a lot of people - Kisuke has no qualms crafting him a gigai that would allow him to draw his blade even without stepping out of it, and Kyouraku basically gives him free run of Soul Society after they hammer out what Ichigo is supposed to do there considering he’s now stronger than the entire Gotei combined but also he’s technically only eighteen years old.

(It would be scarier, Kyouraku thinks, if Ichigo’s moral fibre hadn’t already proven itself superior.)

In the end, they settle it like this - Ichigo attends the Academy part-time for all the lessons Kisuke and Yoruichi and Shinji never bothered hammering into him because it was never important to the war, attends university in the human world, and the rest of his time is his do with as he pleases, whether that’s taking missions directly from Kyouraku, visiting with his friends in various squads and being roped into doing paperwork, or digging up yet another rebel faction or secret invasion out of the woodwork (”Please don’t dig up yet another rebel faction or secret invasion out of the woodwork for at least a month, Ichigo-kun. One month, you hear? We still haven’t finished cleanup from the last one.”).

Because it’s Ichigo, it works. it’s not like he wasn’t already coming and going from Soul Society when he was still human. The Shinigami have let him get away with far too much already to put restrictions on him now, especially considering he’s saved all their asses twice over now, and that’s not even counting all the trouble in-between. If there are some who complain, well, there are even more who are capable of making sure nothing ever comes of it.

So okay, no rebel faction, no secret invasion, but Ichigo’s not Ichigo without something to work towards, and he’s always wondered why the Shinigami side of his family was slumming it out in Rukongai when they’re supposed to be nobility like Byakuya and Yoruichi. The answer is simple enough - Aizen had mind-whammied everyone after Isshin ran off and fabricated a coup that resulted in assassinations courtesy of the Second Division before the remaining Shibas were ousted from Seireitei overnight.

(It was only too easy for Aizen to make them believe it.Nobody ever questioned whether or not the Shibas could. They had the power. They just never had the ambition, which nobody could understand.)

No way is Ichigo going to take that lying down. So he goes and yells at Kyouraku, who says it’s complicated and would take time, but Ichigo reminds him of the Visored and Kisuke and Yoruichi and Tessai, all let back in in the wake of the Winter War. If they could be pardoned, and rightfully so, why can’t the Shibas too?

“I’m not saying they can’t forever, Ichigo-kun,” Kyouraku says placatingly. “But Central 46 will want… assurances-”

“You mean they’re scared to let my family back in cuz they might still be a little bit pissed from having three-quarters of their members murdered in their beds,” Ichigo summarizes flatly.

Kyouraku sighs and gives up all pretenses of a neutral party. “If you have a better idea…” He waves a hand at the general situation, eyes dark and intent on Ichigo’s face.

Ichigo snorts and straightens up. “Yeah. It’s called ‘being too strong to fuck with’. The old bastards are in session right now, aren’t they? I’ll be right back.”

One day, Kyouraku muses as he watches Ichigo go, this will probably not work, and it’ll come back to bite them all in the ass. Then again, Central 46 has run Soul Society their way or no one’s way for far too long; Yama-jii had always given them too much power. They’d learned nothing from Aizen, so maybe Ichigo is exactly what they deserve, straightforward and running on emotion, but fair, always, and decent in a way that Kyouraku thinks most of their government has forgotten how to be, if they ever knew to begin with.

One day, even Ichigo’s threats won’t make Central 46 back down. But a god doesn’t bow just because someone demands it, no matter how important they think their bloodline or rank or status is. And Ichigo is probably the closest thing they have to a god these days. A god, with plenty of friends to back him up if he needs it.

So Kyouraku leaves him to it - better Ichigo than him, less headaches in the long run - and he isn’t at all surprised when Ichigo sweeps back into his office five hours later, expression grim but triumphant, reiatsu still writhing like a living shadow around him as he informs Kyouraku that his clan will be needing their old estate back.

Kyouraku pushes over the paperwork he’d completed an hour ago, authorizing the full restoration and compensation of the Shiba Clan. Ichigo smiles at him almost fondly, features only slightly tinted with a banked sort of inhuman rage that he carries around almost constantly these days - it’s three steps left of his cousin’s memory, with Hollow glinting in his eyes and the shade of his ancestor draped across his shoulders. He’s gone again in the next moment, off to tell his family the excellent news, and Kyouraku thinks it was probably a good thing Yama-jii died when he did. However reasonable Ichigo still is, he is no longer that boy with the too-forgiving heart who took the insults they served him with all the doormatted self-sacrifice of a storybook hero.

(He came back from the Soul King Palace equal parts pensive and victorious, with old eyes and reiatsu levels they could no longer sense and a terrifying sort of detachment when he looked at them all. But his friends had fallen on him without care, only relief, and the icy distance in Ichigo’s mien had melted. Kyouraku had understood though, in that moment, that Soul Society would stand only so long as Ichigo allows it.

He likes Ichigo, he genuinely does. Jyuushirou had too. That hadn’t stopped his old friend from attempting to leash him, which had almost backfired in the end and literally only hadn’t out of the goodness of Ichigo’s heart, and it doesn’t stop Kyouraku now from catering to Ichigo’s whims. Only time would tell if this approach will work better or worse than Jyuushirou’s law-abiding one, and in the meanwhile, it doesn’t hurt that Ichigo doesn’t actually want anything Kyouraku doesn’t want to fix anyway. Soul Society has been his home for over nine centuries now. He does not want to see it burn. If that means dragging it kicking and screaming into a new era with a boy their world created to fight their wars for them looking over his shoulder, then Kyouraku will do it gladly.)

It takes almost three months for the Shibas to gather again and move back in. They’d scattered, after their exile, all across Rukongai, but Kuukaku is their head, and Ichigo has single-handedly wrested back their birthright for them, and when both of them call, the rest of the clan answers, trickling in in twos and threes and fours, suspicious and wary and not inclined to trust anyone but their own, but they come, and the first thing they do is raise wards around their home strong enough to withstand a siege from the Royal Guard.

“That’s everyone?” Ichigo asks, looking from the civilians to the once-Shinigami to the children. All in all, they barely make thirty total, and over half of them are from their retainer families.

Kuukaku shrugs tiredly at his side. She’s never looked older than she does now. “You know Isshin’s staying in the Human world for your sisters, but other than that, pretty much. Everyone else is dead.” She pauses. “Well, except one, but I doubt he’ll come. Kaien’s wife’s brother,” She adds for Ichigo’s benefit. “Koyonagi Senzou. He was the Kidou Corps Commander before Tessai, demoted to Academy teacher after some mission the higher-ups covered up. He was the only one the Gotei kept on after we were kicked out. Never found out whether he actually wanted to stay or if Central 46 insisted he stay. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was the latter. He’s wasted at the Academy, too useful to kill but too dangerous to let out of sight. As far as I know though, he’s still there.”

Ichigo frowns as he digests all this. “And he won’t come by to see you guys?”

Kuukaku shakes her head. “I doubt it. He was never really one of us.”

“Why not?”

Kuukaku shrugs again. “He never wanted to be. I didn’t know him very well, Ichigo, but he loved exactly one person, and she was more or less killed under Kaien’s watch. It wasn’t Nii-san’s fault of course, but she was sent out on a mission given to her by the Thirteenth Division lieutenant, and she never came back. He attended her funeral. That was the last time any of us saw him, although our Shinigami members reported glimpses of him in and around the Academy over the years.”

Ichigo hums. Kuukaku gives him an arch look and then snorts. “Shall I prepare a room for him anyway when I start renovations?”

Ichigo grins at her. “That’d be perfect, Kuukaku, thanks.”

2. Of course Senzou has heard of Kurosaki Ichigo. You’d have to be living under a rock in a cave in a different dimension to not have heard of Soul Society’s God-Slaying Saviour.

And of course he’s a Shiba. That lot always was more trouble than they were worth, too powerful for their own good, and too reckless or too confident or too stupid - Senzou has never really figured out which - to hide it from the world or at least play it down to keep the world from turning on them because of it. No subtlety at all. And look where it got them in the end.

In the aftermath of the Quincy War, he hears of the Shibas’ return to the city, and he can feel the power in the wards they almost immediately erect around their home. For protection, no doubt, because old dogs can learn new tricks after all, but to Senzou, it just looks like a very pretty cage. Why they - or the Visored for that matter - came back to serve the very people who betrayed them in some of the worst ways possible is beyond him.

Not that it makes much of a difference to Senzou. He’d ignored them for decades before their exile; no doubt, he’ll happily ignore them for decades more. They’re related only through an unfortunate marriage, and considering both parties are long dead now, what little obligation he had to them likewise expired years ago.

But, he thinks, as he watches an increasingly familiar head of orange hair slide into his classroom, someone forgot to give that memo to the Shibas’ newest pride and joy. Even Senzou - with expectations that literally no student has ever met - can admit that Kurosaki Ichigo attending Kidou lessons is a complete waste of time. Senzou spends his days teaching idiots the incantations for each of the ninety-nine standard spells, trying not to scratch his own eyes out when he has to grade their papers, and making sure they don’t blow themselves up when they practice producing them. Even the most advanced of the sixth-years can only manage spells in the fifties range, with a fifty-fifty chance of average-at-best success.

Ichigo memorized all the incantations in the first two weeks he was here. His first essay on the use of forbidden Kidou - instead of a regurgitation of laws citing the illegality of them that everyone else turned in - became a dissertation on their pros and cons, arguing that every case in which they’re used should be thoroughly investigated not only by Central 46 but also by a panel of Shinigami, and why the laws against them should be amended to allow for unexpected circumstances. The brat even had the gall to throw in quotes of interviews he’d conducted, and if it had been anyone else claiming to have received firsthand and eye-witness accounts of forbidden Kidou usage from names like Tsukabishi Tessai and Hirako Shinji, Senzou would’ve set them on fire for being such a bad liar. He couldn’t even fail the boy for incomplete research because the books he referenced might not be found in the Academy library but they all had Urahara Kisuke stamped on them.

And his practicals? A high level of reiatsu usually means the caster would have a harder time performing Kidou, especially when they’re first starting out, too much power shoved into the lower-level ones, too little control to hold together the higher-level ones.

Not Kurosaki Ichigo. That boy spent the first week putting holes into everything except his targets, went away for a weekend, and then came back with singed eyebrows and bags under his eyes but a resolute set to his jaw and picture-perfect Kidou at his fingertips. He didn’t even need the incantations anymore. And to make him even more of an anomaly, he could perform spells right up into the nineties. In fact, the higher the difficulty and reiatsu output, the better he was with them.

There is nothing the standard Kidou curriculum from any year can teach him. His learning curve is insane, and his essays read like he’s gearing up to go toe to toe with Central 46, never mind an Academy class.

He doesn’t need to be here. Senzou knows it. The other students know it. And Ichigo most certainly knows it too. And with the special allowances granted by the Soutaichou himself, he doesn’t even need permission to skip. The boy’s been given unprecedented free reign to come and go as he pleases, and yet he comes back, week after week after week. He doesn’t even have the decency to sleep through Senzou’s lectures. He’s a flickering candle in the corner of Senzou’s eye, all flame-bright hair and brown-gold-brown eyes and shadows that won’t stop moving, and that unwavering attention he pins on Senzou every time makes it damn clear exactly what he’s waiting for.

Shibas. No subtlety whatsoever.

The bell rings. Bags are packed. There’s a scramble for the door.

“Kurosaki-chan,” Senzou calls in bored tones without looking away from sadistically adding an extra assignment to the board. If no one notices, that’s their problem. “Stay behind.”

There are some interested whispers and prying eyes, but one glance from Senzou sends them scurrying away. And then Ichigo is there, sauntering up with his perpetual scowl - not at all like Kaien this one. The two are as charismatic as each other, from what Senzou’s observed. But Kaien had people wrapped around his finger because he had a knack for putting them at ease and making them feel special and making himself both approachable and worth looking up to. Ichigo on the other hand scared a lot of people when he first showed up at the Academy with an armful of books and a gruff disposition that didn’t lend itself to making allies, let alone friends. He wasn’t arrogant, just introverted, but it made him the kind of genius that people resented.

And then Senzou caught him in the hallway one day, looming over a mousy-looking fifth-year student huddled on the ground, and at first, he’d thought Kurosaki was bullying her. Everyone’s golden boy, picking on a shrinking violet of a girl. But then Ichigo had stooped down and gathered up all the books spilled across the floor before offering them back to the girl. The girl had still cowered, but she’d accepted them, and when Ichigo reached out and hauled her to her feet, she’d flinched but hadn’t moved away once she was on her feet again and Ichigo had let her go.

Then Ichigo had told her, quite clearly, “Next time someone can’t keep their hands to themselves, break their fucking wrists. Or kick them in the balls. Or tell them to fuck off. Start a scene so they have to stop. Do something. Don’t just fucking stand there.”

And then he’d stormed off, and the girl - Fujiwara, from the Kyouraku family - had stared after him, all baby-duckling wide eyes. And the next time Senzou had happened across her, it was just in time to see her chuck one of her textbooks at the head of one of her bullies. Said bully had staggered back, and then purpled with anger, already moving forward with fists clenched. Half a second later, he was on the ground and wailing from a broken nose, and Ichigo was standing over him, murder glowing gold in his eyes and black reiatsu streaking his hair and pooling at his feet.

Nobody had touched Fujiwara after that, especially since the girl had taken to following Ichigo around. Ichigo had still scowled like no one’s business, he’d also been seen kicking Fujiwara’s ass in one of the training rooms, they studied together in the library, and they ate together in the courtyard when Ichigo happened to stay for that.

And gradually, other students joined in, tentatively, some nervous, some with hero worship in their eyes, all hopeful. Ichigo never turned any of them away, but one day, he started a debate in the library about laws that would take species outside of Shinigami into consideration that ended with raised voices and enthusiastic opinions that got the whole giggling bunch thrown out, and another day, he suggested a free-for-all game of tag where only Kidou could be used to catch each other which ended with everyone sweaty and gasping and wanting another round, and in calmer in-betweens, he answered when the others finally asked him about what Hueco Mundo was like, what the Material world was like, what Arrancar were like, what Humans were like, and he never lost his temper with them even when he had to explain something more than once.

He was still blunt and borderline rude and not at all like Kaien, like a Shiba, not outgoing or friendly or instantly personable. But the charisma was the same, people couldn’t help but be drawn to him, and it took weeks for Senzou to realize he was just as susceptible to it as Ichigo’s growing circle of friends within the Academy. So susceptible he was literally stalking him everywhere just to see what other chaos he was sowing.

That’s probably why he wants the boy gone so badly. He’d sworn he’d never forgive the Shiba Clan for taking his sister away from him, the only leeway they got was that he wouldn’t actively go after them either because Miyako wouldn’t want him to, and it wasn’t as if it was difficult to keep such a vow. He’d never liked the Shibas anyway. When they’d been slaughtered and cast out, and no assassins had shown up at his door in the aftermath, all he’d thought was good riddance.

But Kurosaki Ichigo…

Under any other circumstances, Senzou would be thrilled. Here is a student who challenged the world around him and brought a storm to the Academy.

But this isn’t any other circumstances, and as Ichigo stops in front of his desk, a beast glinting behind his eyes and a dead king’s inheritance pulsing in the shadow splashed at his feet, Senzou meets his gaze and slices a mocking smile in his direction.

“Kurosaki-chan,” He starts, smirk widening when Ichigo’s eyebrows twitch. “The Academy’s star part-time pupil. What exactly are you still doing in my class?”

Ichigo shrugs. “I signed up for it, your lectures aren’t boring, and I’m trying to figure you out.”

Senzou feels his smile grow fixed. “And how is that going for you?”

Ichigo scruffs a hand through his hair, pauses briefly to frown tug at the shoulder-length strands like he wants a haircut, and then shrugs again. “You’re the one following me around all the time, what do you think?”

They stare at each other for a moment.

“Let me make one thing very clear, Kurosaki-chan,” Senzou finally says. For once, he doesn’t feel like weaving his usual mind games. “I don’t know what your clan has told you, but I have no desire to play happy families with them. I know you Shibas tend to be all about bringing family together, but I am not one of you.” His lip curls. “Do not push this issue any further than you have. Am I understood?”

Ichigo cocks his head, something animal in the way he watches Senzou now. “Kuukaku agreed to reserve a room for you at the compound if you ever want it, but you don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m not here for that.”

Senzou’s eyes narrow. “Then what are you here for?” He gives the boy a sardonic look and cuts him off preemptively. “Besides class.”

Ichigo grins, quicksilver bright, and something in Senzou recoils with surprise.

“I don’t really have a plan,” The boy tells him. “But I’m getting my family settled back in, and making sure nobody can fuck with them ever again.” He aims another considering look at Senzou. “If you don’t wanna be all buddy-buddy with them, that’s fine. It’s not any of my business if you wanna hammer your shit out with them or not. But you were connected to them even if you didn’t like it, and that doesn’t change just because that connection’s gone. So I guess what I wanted to figure out was whether or not someone’s fucking with you too.”

Senzou opens his mouth, then closes it when nothing comes out. How embarrassing. He settles for a derisive smile that feels a touch too brittle on his face. “I don’t need your protection, God-Slayer.”

Ichigo immediately makes a face. “Don’t call me that. And I didn’t say you did. But when I start something, I like to see it through, so I thought I’d check just to be sure.”

Senzou scoffs with disbelief. “Then why didn’t you just ask?”

Ichigo rolls his eyes like he thinks Senzou’s being dumb on purpose, which is a new experience for Senzou. Usually he’s the one rolling his eyes.

“Well you didn’t want me to, did you?” Ichigo says, looking exasperated now. “You were curious about me, and all the stalking was recon or whatever.” He levels a thoughtful look on Senzou before snorting with something like amusement. “You are the type. But yeah, anyway, now you know. If you need help, the offer’s open indefinitely. But I’ll stop coming to class if you don’t want me here.”

He trails off, arching an eyebrow in question. When Senzou doesn’t reply, the boy shrugs once more, adjusts the strap of his bag, and turns to leave.

Senzou… Well, he’s pretty much been on the back foot this entire conversation, hasn’t he? There’s something about Ichigo that just… throws him off. It’s frustrating. Unnerving.

And yet… Ichigo didn’t push. Kaien would’ve pushed. The rest of his family would’ve pushed. It’s what Shibas do when they want something - push and push until they get what they want, a single-minded persistence hidden under their signature cheerful geniality that makes the rest of the world believe them to be the nicest clan in all of Soul Society.

Miyako had said no, the first time Kaien had asked to court her. But he’d asked again and again, until she’d said yes, and she’d been happy to, Senzou had made certain of that, she’d been perfectly willing, had found a good man in Kaien and been glad she’d finally given him a chance.

But she’d said no first, and Kaien had pushed, and it just… rubbed Senzou the wrong way. Because once upon a time, Shinigami had plucked them out from Rukongai, dusted them off and provided the training and shuffled them into the military, all expenses paid, but no had never been an option, and that had become all the more true after Miyako became such a public, vulnerable figure, not only Third Seat of the Thirteenth but also wife of a clan head.

When Central 46 had come knocking, interested in Senzou’s prodigal skills with Kidou, they hadn’t even needed to drop Miyako’s name for Senzou to know that saying no then wasn’t an option either. He’d been pushed into their service, and it had taken Miyako’s death for Central 46 to finally leave him alone, solely because he had no one else for them to hold over his head.

It’s not the Shibas’ fault, not really. It’s been long enough that Senzou can admit that, if only to himself. Miyako’s choices were her own, and even if she hadn’t married him, Central 46 probably would’ve found another way to get to him through her. But Senzou has always been petty and vindictive at heart, and he’ll blame the Shibas for the rest of his life, because at the end of the day, they’re just like all the other nobles in this place. What they want, they’ll push until they get, because privilege is in their blood.

So Senzou flounders when Ichigo doesn’t push his advantage. The boy is already halfway to the door, and somehow, Senzou is certain, if he doesn’t say anything now, Ichigo won’t come back. It’s so wildly different from what he’d expected, so unexpectedly not-like-a-Shiba, that he has to fumble for something to say for an unforgivably long moment. Him, fumble. This whole conversation has been one unexpected surprise after another, and later, Senzou will blame the shock for his next decision.

“Wait.”

Ichigo stops and turns back. He doesn’t look surprised, but neither does he look triumphant or even just smug.

Senzou suppresses a grimace. “The school has nothing left to teach you about Kidou.”

Ichigo nods in unabashed agreement.

Senzou snorts softly. “But I do. And I guarantee it won’t bore you.”

Ichigo blinks, and a crooked smile slowly curls at his lips. It doesn’t erase his frown, but it softens his brow and makes his features look less harsh. “You sure you wanna teach me?”

Senzou scoffs and pulls out his chair. “I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.” He gives himself a mental shake and drags a grin back onto his face, sharp enough to cut. “Sit your ass down so we can figure out a schedule, Ichi-chan.”

Ichigo instantly loses the smile and glowers like a thundercloud. Senzou all but basks in the familiarity of it, inwardly relieved at being back on steadier ground.

“Don’t call me that, asshole!”

He probably shouldn’t have offered, should’ve just let him go and good riddance. But Senzou hasn’t been taken so off-guard so quickly in a long time, and it had been frustrating and unnerving but underneath both…

There is a storm waiting on the wings of Seireitei, and Kurosaki Ichigo is the one holding its reins.

And Senzou. Senzou is just curious enough to want to see what that storm will bring.

3. “Did your hair grow three inches over the weekend?” Senzou asks the moment Ichigo walks into one of their weekly lessons.

Ichigo dumps his bag in a chair and scowls at him. His hair has been swept up into a bun, which is certainly a feat considering the last time Senzou saw him three days ago, it had only brushed his shoulders.

“This body is seriously shit at regulating itself,” Ichigo grumbles. “I didn’t have time to go to the barber’s, and Kuukaku threatened to shave me bald if I tried to chop it off with my Zanpakutou again.”

Senzou squints at him. “You realize that’s not normal.”

Ichigo rolls his eyes. “I didn’t have a knife on me, and it was getting in the way, okay? Don’t judge.”

This time, it’s Senzou’s turn to roll his eyes. “That wasn’t what I meant, Ichi-chan. Shinigami bodies don’t suddenly grow several inches of hair overnight.”

“You’d be surprised,” Ichigo mutters before shaking his head, and Senzou watches as black reiatsu crackles lazily across his shoulders. “I’m just kinda weird. Excess reiatsu plus funky biology apparently means random hair growth and dye jobs.” He shrugs. “Kisuke’s still figuring it out.”

Senzou hums noncommittally. “Urahara Kisuke. Your… mentor?”

Ichigo pulls out the books Senzou had given him last week, along with a notebook and the latest essay Senzou had assigned him. All are tagged with multiple sticky notes.

“Kind of?” Ichigo sounds like he isn’t all too sure himself and even less concerned about it. “He’s… Kisuke.”

Senzou eyes him curiously. “You don’t care that he basically engineered half your life then?”

Ichigo stills. Then he glances up with Hollow-gold eyes, and Senzou smiles and meets them without flinching.

“Why would you say that?” Ichigo asks in even tones, but the office suddenly seems darker.

Senzou shrugs carelessly. “Urahara has a bit of a reputation for… working outside the box. It’s not just me who thinks it, Ichi-chan. There aren’t many who knew him who wouldn’t take one look at you and guess that he had something to do with your existence.” He pauses. “Although admittedly, I suppose the worst of these rumours come from the ones who want him back most. Central 46 doesn’t benefit half as much without his skills in assassination and technological development. It must’ve been a blow to their egos when Urahara refused their invitation to come back after the Winter War. They might be hoping enough unease over any other projects he’s bound to be working on would be enough to make him come back under their protection-”

“That’s not called protection,” Ichigo growls, and Senzou stops, words withering on his tongue.

There is something about the black abyss of Ichigo’s unblinking stare that makes some base instinct in even Senzou want to back away, run, throw himself at this eldritch entity’s feet and beg for mercy. He squashes the urge and smiles like monsters don’t exist.

Ichigo blinks. The darkness in his eyes recede, and the room clears again, bright with the sunshine pouring in through the open window. A shadow passes over his face, and when he opens his mouth to speak, Senzou catches a glimpse of fangs.

“Well that sucks,” The boy remarks succinctly like the silhouette on the far wall behind him doesn’t outline a grinning mouth with too many teeth. “It’s none of their business anyway. Kisuke prefers his shop. He’s his own boss there, and he likes it that way. Central 46 will just have to deal with Kurotsuchi.”

He flips open his notebook and shoves his essay over. “Now come on, we only have an hour today, and you said you’d go over this bit with me.”

Senzou nods and drops the subject. But three weeks later, he laughs when whispers tell of five Central 46 members retiring from their seats, replaced by one Shiba elder, one Shihouin, one Kuchiki, and two seated officers from the Gotei, one of which has served long enough that she doesn’t mind semi-retiring, and the other who prefers more time at a desk job over constant fieldwork. Both have roots that trace back to the slums of Rukongai. Twelve days after that, the Soutaichou announces a new official position filled by Urahara Kisuke - Human World Liaison - and a team of his choice, effective immediately.

“You don’t waste any time,” is Senzou’s greeting the next time he sees Ichigo after that debacle.

Ichigo, seated on the edge of the Academy roof and surveying the rest of Seireitei (like a ruler looking over his kingdom), waves a dismissive hand that trails solid shadows through the air. “People who’ve never been Shinigami shouldn’t be allowed to judge them. Kyouraku-san agreed.”

“I’m sure he did,” Senzou agrees, fighting near-hysterical glee down to a chuckle as he drops down to sit beside Ichigo.

He wonders if this is what it looks like, for a man to crown himself without even trying while most of the world cheers him on.

He glances to the side, arching an eyebrow when he finds Ichigo watching him. “Yes, Ichi-chan?”

There’s a disappointing lack of irritable twitching this time, but the thoughtful look Ichigo has levelled on him instead is more interesting.

“I have finals starting next week,” Ichigo says abruptly. “So I won’t be coming by the Academy until I’m done.”

Well, less interesting than he’d expected. “I’ll pick up your assignments for you,” Senzou offers, feeling generous. It’s not every day Central 46 takes a beating. He doesn’t care about Aizen, but if there was one thing he did right, it was butchering the judiciary authority on the way out. One group of them anyway.

Ichigo snorts. Rude. “Thanks, but I was thinking, you could join me down there for once instead of me coming up to meet you here. I want to concentrate on my university exams, but I have to eat and stretch my legs sometime. If you want, I could show you around campus. Kisuke can lend you a gigai so you won’t even have to request one from the Twelfth and wait for the acquisition forms to be approved.”

The first thing Senzou wants to say is I can’t. Because he can’t. Central 46 can’t make him do shit anymore, but short of slaughtering his way to the Senkaimon or disappearing into the Rukongai and living out the rest of his life as a fugitive, he can’t leave Seireitei. He doesn’t hate it here so much that he’d prefer either of those options, but the truth of the matter is, this is as much his home as it is his prison.

(A very pretty cage indeed.)

So he can’t, but Ichigo isn’t stupid, he should’ve already figured it out, or guessed, if not from the start after whatever his family told him about Senzou, then in the five months since. Stuck at the Academy because he’s too much of a wild card to go on missions.

Ichigo isn’t stupid, but neither is he cruel, not to those he has no quarrel with - that much Senzou can accept as truth. That he’s bringing this up anyway…

So, “How?” He asks instead, raising his eyebrows when Ichigo actually barks out a laugh. And then his eyes widen when Ichigo twists fingers through the air, and a Garganta springs into existence beside them.

“This can take us there,” Ichigo grins. “And no one will ever even know if you don’t want them to.”

Senzou stares from him to the murky void and back again. “…Why?”

Why are you doing this? Why would you offer?

They’ve known each other for five months, six if you count the one Senzou spent studying him. Most of that time has been spent in private tutoring sessions, and it’s benefitted Senzou as much as it has Ichigo. He technically shouldn’t be teaching Ichigo even half the Kidou Corps secrets he’s already imparted, but Ichigo makes it worth his while - quick on the uptake, a challenge in the sparring ring, and a breath of fresh air from the tedious drudgery of teaching his other students. Occasionally, they even go out for meals, tucked away in a quiet corner of a restaurant or a food stand. And sometimes, Ichigo brings souvenirs back with him from his trips to the Human world - fiction, toys, tech, trinkets the living modern age has that Soul Society does not - and he gifts them not only to his friends amongst the students but also to Senzou these days.

It’s a friendlier relationship than Senzou thought he’d ever have with anyone outside his sister, doubly so for a Shiba. Then again, Ichigo’s barely that, thank the Soul King, even if he was raised by one of the worst examples of that clan.

“Why not?” Ichigo counters, like it isn’t downright unnatural for anyone to do anything for Senzou, mostly because he’d rather stab himself in the face than fall into anybody’s debt. People avoid him when they can because he is cruel, and that’s the way Senzou likes it. He has high standards and little tolerance for things that bore him. Nothing bores him as easily as people do.

Until Ichigo.

“You don’t wanna be stuck here all the time,” Ichigo continues. “And I have an easy way out. So yeah, why not?”

Senzou turns his gaze to the horizion, past the sprawling streets and buildings of Seireitei to the sun setting beyond the wall.

He looks at the Garganta again. When Ichigo doesn’t move to stop him, he reaches over and lets his fingers drift past the mouth of the portal. The void is cool to the touch but not freezing the way he’d half-imagined.

He retrieves his hand. “A campus tour then?” He muses lightly, and Ichigo’s features brighten in response.

Senzou almost sighs. He thinks he might understand now. Ichigo is a little more like a Shiba after all. It’s just that he’s also a little more manipulative than one would expect of him. Senzou had all but told him not to interfere, to play hero for someone else, so Ichigo had backed off. But he’d figured out what Senzou wanted anyway, and his solution was to offer another way out instead.

Persistent, without disrespecting boundaries, and cunning enough to find another answer. In that regard, he’s nothing like his Shinigami relatives, who are always so loud about their intentions.

Charismatic, but… discreetly, almost insidiously so.

Senzou blinks. And then glances sharply at Ichigo again. His eyes look bronze in the light of the sunset, with the heat of his Hollow just beneath it. He has his head propped up against one loose fist, elbow balanced on one knee.

He smiles, almost guileless if not for the possessive resolve in the curve of that expression, and Senzou thinks, unbidden, ah. That’s how he won their devotion.

He gave his friends and family and allies everything they wanted, everything they needed, threw his heart and soul and body into every fight in their defense, shattered himself and rebuilt himself to protect the ones he’d taken under his wing, and so when the time came, how could any of them have done anything less for him?

It had probably not even been something Ichigo had done consciously from the beginning, it was just how he was built, through a quirk of the genetic fun park Urahara had ensured, or perhaps from the numerous near-death experiences life had forced him into. Ichigo probably hadn’t been aware, at first.

But he definitely is now.

Senzou thinks Ichigo is only just starting with him. Senzou’s already been claimed, because - for whatever reason - Ichigo wants him.

It probably says a lot that even this early on, even having already figured it out, Senzou… can’t say he cares enough to protest.

A Shiba in his bones, but leagues more dangerous by far.

4. The Human world is bigger than he remembers. Size-wise, it’s the same. But there’s a lot more in it than he thought, and he isn’t sure if that’s due to the passage of time or because he’d never spent more time than strictly necessary here when he took missions on the material plane back in the day.

Either way, he’s free to explore it now, even if just a small part of it for the time being. The campus of Ichigo’s school is large and sprawling, and with Urahara’s gigai and fake IDs and some Human money (he trades them for a box of seal traps even Tsukabishi Tessai wouldn’t know of because they’re Senzou’s own creation, and Urahara smiles like he understands and doesn’t object), it’s easy enough to come and go once Ichigo drops him off.

“You bought an apartment?” Senzou asks the first time Ichigo shows him the place and lets him poke around inside. It’s recognizably a living space, but it’s foreign to him all the same, with a generous open floor plan and wide windows, marble countertops in the kitchen and dark wooden cabinets and a bathroom constructed of polished chrome and gleaming tile.

“Kisuke bought me an apartment,” Ichigo corrects, flopping down on the couch where he has papers and books spread all over the coffee table and floor. His hair’s shorter today, barely past his shoulders, tipped black and hanging loose. Senzou is vaguely curious about what the boy’s classmates think of it.

“I wanted my own place,” Ichigo explains. “But Kisuke took one look at the rent I could afford and practically frog-marched me here instead. Then he had Yoruichi-san steal all my stuff and move it here, and then he said I might as well just take it because staying would be less work than moving all my stuff back.” He snorts, but it’s a fond sound. “The asshole. It’s not like I’d want to turn this place down. But it’s a bit much, so I try to help him with his research projects whenever I can in exchange.”

Senzou digests this with briefly raised eyebrows but says nothing. Urahara probably considers this another desperate form of making amends, and Ichigo probably knows it too. He probably wouldn’t have accepted otherwise.

“There’s a guest bedroom,” Ichigo calls after him as Senzou wanders down the hall to investigate exactly that. “Rukia’s stayed overnight, Renji too, and a few of my human friends have as well, but I always clean the place after they leave, so if you wanna stay tonight, feel free.”

That’s all the conversation between them for the rest of the day. Ichigo already showed him the campus the day before, and after tossing him a key to the apartment, Senzou is free to wander off and explore on his own.

Two weeks of regular visits to the Human world, and he still feels a little awkward in one of the shirts and jeans and sweater that that Quincy friend of Ichigo’s had shoved on him before whirlwinding back out again, apparently neck-deep in the middle of his own finals project.

“It’s Ishida, he makes clothes for everyone,” was Ichigo’s unhelpful clarification. “You help by walking around and looking good in them.”

So Senzou does, and part of him feels like he should stand out more, but nobody gives him more than a passing glance at most. Well, some do, but he recognizes shallow attraction well enough to ignore it.

In the end, he finds himself spending the most time in the libraries and lecture halls, slipping into the back of a classroom and listening to lessons he actually has to pay attention to to even understand some of what the professor is talking about. The science lectures mostly go over his head, and he’s never been interested in that field anyway so he doesn’t bother putting much effort into following them. It’s the literature courses he likes the most. There aren’t any at the Academy, not like this, and there are so many more books in so many more languages and genres than Senzou ever thought there existed in the world.

Soul Society suddenly seems so small in comparison.

It’s always an exercise in patience every time he has to return to Seireitei to teach now. After the first two weeks of almost daily trips to the Human world, he orders - on a whim - the students from his upper-year classes to split into groups before assigning each of them a project due at the end of the term on the theoretical creation of three new Kidou spells.

Group projects are not a thing at the Academy. Senzou wonders why.

He tells them that at least two of the research sources have to be from outside the Academy, and he smirks when he follows Fujiwara Asuka to the First Division compound to speak with her cousin, and then the Eighth to speak with her cousin’s former lieutenant, and then even braving the Fourth, straight-backed and stiff with anxiety but marching in anyway with her nervous group members in tow until she manages to wrangle fifteen minutes of time from a few of the healers willing to answer her questions about Kaidou.

Even here, Ichigo’s influence flourishes.

Outside the classroom, Senzou begins collecting copies of Human books. He half-bribes, half-blackmails the librarian into setting aside a section for him, and then he begins his own project of filling it.

“You’ve been busy,” Ichigo remarks when he staggers in from his last exam and collapses into a chair just as Senzou finishes setting the table for dinner.

Senzou arches an eyebrow, smirking when Ichigo just rolls his eyes.

“People tell me things,” Ichigo informs him, barely waiting for Senzou to sit down before falling onto the meal like he hasn’t eaten in a week.

“You would make a poor king if people didn’t,” Senzou murmurs, smiling serenely when Ichigo’s eyes flick up to meet his. It’s not as intimidating when his cheeks are bulging like a chipmunk’s.

Actually, Ichigo in the Human world just seems less… overwhelming in general. It isn’t as if he’s any less powerful. This particular gigai doesn’t restrict him in any way. But there’s a relaxed quality in him here that Senzou’s observed in the past three weeks that’s always absent when he’s the rawest form of himself up in Seireitei.

“Soul Society needs to change,” Ichigo says at last, instead of denying anything. “If that means kicking it in the ass until it stops fucking up the lives it’s supposed to be looking after, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

Yes, and Senzou has no doubt he’ll succeed. The majority of those in power have no desire to stop Ichigo. Those who do aren’t strong enough. And Ichigo wants it. He wants it with a conviction Senzou has never seen in anyone, almost obsessive in its unfaltering desire… like the abyssal hunger of a Hollow and the eternal grudge of a Quincy and the timeless pride of a Shinigami all rolled into one.

Ichigo wants it, and he’ll get what he wants.

The Soul King knows the universe owes him that much, and even if it didn’t, Senzou doubts it would make a single bit of difference to their God-Slayer.

He lifts his mug in a toast. “Then I look forward to your endeavours. You’ll need to watch out for Central 46′s spies though. I’m sure they won’t take this lying down.”

Ichigo cocks an eyebrow. “Is that an offer to keep your ear to the ground for me?”

Senzou attempts an innocent face, which works about as well as he expects when Ichigo snorts. “A mere Academy teacher like me probably can’t help much, but…” He thinks of the seals he’d planted throughout the entire Central 46 compound every time he’d had to report in, slowly but surely sneaking invisible ears into the heart of Soul Society’s government. “I might hear things now and then. I’ll pass it on if it happens to be interesting.”

Ichigo grins and tips his own mug at Senzou like they aren’t talking treason.

5. “So.”

Senzou almost rolls his eyes. The Shibas’ commitment to their theatrics clearly hasn’t changed.

“Kuukaku-chan,” He says instead as he strides into his office and smothers the urge to draw his blade on the woman sitting on his desk like she’s posing for Most Dramatic. He smiles instead, hiding the teeth of it behind his lips. “What a pleasure.”

Kuukaku grins back without any of the same courtesy. Of course. “None at all, I’m sure, so I’ll get straight to the point. What are you doing with Ichigo?”

Senzou does roll his eyes this time. “You’ll have to be more specific. As of yesterday, he’s teaching me how to drive a car.” His lip curls. “It’s a mode of transportation Humans have developed.”

“I know what a car is,” Kuukaku snaps, finally hopping down from the desk to prowl across the room. “Why is he teaching you? What do you want with him?”

Senzou pauses halfway through setting down a stack of essays to be marked. “…If I said vengeance on the Shiba Clan once I’ve convinced him to side with me, would that be about what you were expecting?”

Kuukaku glares and crosses her arms. “Ichigo would never.”

Senzou smirks. “Then you have nothing to worry about, do you? You’ve wasted a trip.”

He brushes past her to flip through the paperwork on his desk. End-of-term reports are coming up, and that’s always a waste of his time, so the sooner he gets them done the better.

“I know you resent us for what happened to Miyako,” Kuukaku says from behind him, and Senzou wonders if he can just walk out. Probably, but there’s no way this woman won’t cause a scene. “But Ichigo wasn’t part of any of that.”

Senzou heaves a sigh and turns back around. “Kuukaku-chan, I thought we just established that we both know that using Ichigo against your family won’t work.”

“No,” Kuukaku nods. “But you could hurt him to get back at us.”

They eye each other for a long moment, not quite hostile but far from amicable.

“…My vengeance for Miyako was not lifting a finger when your clan was all but massacred,” Senzou finally says, ignoring the way Kuukaku’s expression pinches. “And so long as contact with you and yours is kept at an absolute minimum in the future, I don’t care anymore. Besides, there is no point in targeting Ichigo to get to you.” He sneers. “He’s a Shiba, but it would be an insult to consider him one of you.”

Kuukaku bristles but doesn’t explode in anger the way some of her even more hot-tempered relatives would. She stares at him instead, and when she doesn’t speak right away, Senzou goes back to organizing the contents of his desk.

“Say I believe that,” Kuukaku finally says, ignoring Senzou’s scoff. “Maybe you are hanging out with Ichigo with no ulterior motives. The gods know he makes that easy. But if that’s what you’re doing, there’s no way you won’t be seeing more of the rest of us eventually. He wasn’t raised the way a Shiba should’ve been, with none of our traditions and only a fraction of the family he should’ve had. That’s on us. But he’s still family, and so long as he doesn’t say no, we’re going to be a part of his life. You’re going to have to accept that if you plan on marrying in.”

The shelf closes with a resounding thud under his hand, and judging by the give, he’s probably cracked the back of it too. He barely notices as his gaze snaps back up to stare incredulously at his uninvited visitor. “I beg your pardon?”

Kuukaku smiles thinly, and this time she looks more amused than anything else. “Something to consider. But you’re more like Miyako than most people would think.” Her arms drop to her sides as she turns abruptly towards the window. “That’s all I had to say. You’re a smart man, Senzou. I don’t need to tell you what will happen if you fuck up.”

And before Senzou can demand an explanation or - more likely - set her on fire for cracking such an abysmal joke, she’s gone, disappearing through the window in a rush of Shunpo.

Senzou stares after her, then at the books he’d carried in earlier, then at the paperwork he’s putting off for the weekend because he has dinner with Ichigo tonight… just as he does almost every night nowadays.

He runs a hand over his face.

Shibas.

6. He says nothing. He’s self-aware enough to know (now, damn Kuukaku) that there’s something there, a spark, a connection, a pull Senzou has never felt towards anyone. He isn’t going to call it love or whatever Kuukaku thinks is happening because it isn’t. He finds Ichigo fascinating and endlessly entertaining, and anyone willing to face down Central 46 is worthy of some admiration in Senzou’s opinion. That Ichigo plans on turning the whole system upside-down and actually has the power to achieve it only raises Senzou’s esteem for him.

But he says nothing because Ichigo knows all this already. The day Senzou’s first instinct, when an assassin sent by Central 46 attempts to take Ichigo’s head, is to slit the hapless woman’s throat - even though he knows full well that she wouldn’t have come anywhere near to succeeding - is the moment Ichigo gets irrefutable proof that Koyonagi Senzou is willing to kill for him.

Ichigo doesn’t gloat of course, he isn’t the type. Senzou half-expects it anyway, breath caught in his lungs for a moment with something disgracefully close to fear twisting in his gut as he turns to check Ichigo’s reaction.

But Ichigo only wrinkles his nose and toes the fresh corpse at his feet, and then he glances at the blood splatter dotting Senzou’s shirt and offers to get him a new one.

He also reaches out to touch the hilt of Senzou’s Zanpakutou before nodding once, deliberately, solemnly, the weight of it as much a thanks as it is an acknowledgement.

And that was that. Senzou relaxes, doesn’t bat an eye when shadows surge up and swallow the body whole, and goes to change into another shirt. The incident passes, and it will be longer still before Ichigo’s enemies realize they probably should’ve tried harder to get rid of Senzou years ago. They’d thought themselves safe enough though: they would never earn Senzou’s allegiance, but at the same time, nobody - including Senzou - ever thought anybody else would earn it either.

But the point is, Ichigo knows. Senzou has no need to speak of it, and both of them are content with that. If something more comes of it down the road, Senzou doesn’t think he’d fight it. He lost this battle a good while ago, and he never even cared.

In the meantime though, he spies on Central 46 and enjoys what time he can spare in the Human world and continues reconstructing Seireitei’s education system brick by stubborn brick. There’s a kingdom to conquer and a god Senzou has pledged himself to, and for now, that is enough.

[theoriginalladya]

100 Days of Writing - Day 5

@the-wip-project asked: What’s a worldbuilding detail in your WIP that you really like?

Oh, goodness. Well, I think I'm going to fall back to the original fic story I talked about yesterday (called The Pearl Catcher, by the way) for this one.

So, this is the first of four books in a modern setting in which dragons coexist with humans. Part of the fun of the world building in this world has been coming up with how to achieve that in such a way as to keep the dragons true to their kind while not giving away who and what they are. (There are some humans who do know, of course, but for the most part it is not generally known that dragons are real)

To be more specific, my absolute favorite aspect of this is trying to insert the dragons into historical events in such a way as to make it seem 'natural.' (I may have a history problem... ;) ) I do this/plan to do this throughout all of the books, and it covers various events dating back to the early Middle Ages/Viking era, up through modern day. One of my larger attempts with it actually comes in book two where the events of the Battle of Gettysburg from US history is intertwined in the story.

However, one of the first events, truly one that helped with this entire idea of having dragons living in a human world when I first started and one of my favorites so far, comes from The Anglo-Saxon Chronicles. In 793, in most of the versions of the Chronicles, this entry appears for that year:

Here terrible portents came about over the land of Northumbria, and miserably frightened the people: these were immense flashes of lightning, and fiery dragons were seen in the air. A great famine followed these signs; and a little after that in the same year on 8 January the raiding of heathen men miserably devastated God's church in Lindisfarne island by looting and slaughter...

(under cut for length)

From that summary of the year's events, I developed this bit for the story:

“What happened after that?” Romi asked.

Myles sighed, eyes closing. “Bealdric, for all his annoyance, was a good friend and true to his word. He and Gytha made it safely to her hoard where she deposited what your ealdfæderentrusted to her. Afterwards, he escorted her home.” Myles smiled sadly, his eyes finding Romi’s. “Along their journey, they were spotted. It was Bealdric’s decision to split up; he chose to lead the danger away from Gytha and in doing so, sacrificed himself. It was months before we heard from Gytha what happened, and to this day I do not know the full story.”

Romi stared down at the pendant she held. “And the other item Saba gave you?”

“Before we split up to head to our hoards, your ealdfæder instructed me to keep the pendant with me at all times,” Myles explained. “The other item he gave me was not included in that promise and I deposited it in my hoard.” Another heavy sigh shook through him, sorry his eyes filled with sadness. “To this day, I still can’t help but wonder if he didn’t somehow know what was to come.”

Hunter frowned. “What do you mean?”

Myles looked over at him for a long moment before speaking. “It happened some months later. The entire time, both Saba and I could sense something was not quite right - that something was changing, but we had no concrete proof to share with anyone.” His snort of dry amusement echoed with derision. “As if anyone would listen to us.” He paused, taking a deep breath and releasing it again before continuing. “We finally received word from Gytha of Bealdric’s fate and it was shortly thereafter the true nightmare began.”

“Nightmare?” Romi searched Myles’ expression for some sort of clue to explain his use of the word. The ancient Wyrm was not one given to relying on an over abundance of drama in order to emphasize his point.

“Our monastery came under attack,” Myles announced. “Most of the brethren within were killed; our house was destroyed.”

Romi bit her lip, recognizing the pain behind her guardian’s eyes, and nodded her understanding. “Vikings,” she murmured for Hunter’s benefit, but she asked for no further detail.

Hunter winced. Hollywood theatrics in film and television aside, he’d done enough reading on the Viking attacks that occurred in the eighth through tenth centuries, he could well imagine the devastation Myles had seen and experienced.

“But you both escaped,” Romi murmured.

“Your ealdfæder and I were fortunate,” he agreed wearily. Another sigh breathed out heavy with the weight of memory. “We and a few others managed to escape the initial attack. We found a place to hide away while the wícing pillaged and plundered; destroying everyone and thing they did not take with them.” His shoulders shook for a moment. “When they finally left, those who survived split into pairs or trios and set out for the nearest houses of our brethren to inform them of what happened.”

Myles rose to his feet, shuffling slowly and awkwardly over to stand before the fire.

“There wasn’t anything you could have done,” Romi reminded him. “These attacks came -”

“No.”

Hunter met Romi’s gaze with a questioning look and they both turned towards Myles. “What do you mean?”

“The fyrdraca,” he whispered. “They were among the wícing who attacked.” His head shook back and forth. “I wanted to help, to agén-bewendan and help out the others before we lost so many, but your ealdfæder forbade it.” He released another heavy sigh. “So many died, the monastery was destroyed. We could have done something, but he insisted we could do more after the fact by spreading the word to the other houses and warn them ....”

(for clarification, Romi and Hunter are my two main characters; Myles is Romi's good friend and former guardian, an uncle of a sort. He and Romi are both dragons; Hunter is the local sheriff (human) who becomes friends with Romi. The italicized words are actually Anglo-Saxon terms which I've adapted to be the dragons' language)

[zarathelonewolf]

Currently writing the first two chapters of my KNY AU... They're about the main OC, Masako, and how she exactly became a Demon Slayer. I'm gonna spoil you something: it wasn't really easy for her, since she was her father's only daughter, and he became more protective of her when he came back from a mission so gravely injured that he had to retire and become a cultivator: she had always trained with him before that moment and listened to his stories, and although he already knew the dangers of the profession his daughter wanted to choose... the dangers of the path he had chosen and that she wanted to follow... he had let her passion for training fester. That was because she was already showing some form of propensione for the Stone Breathing, which her father was expert of.

However, after his injury, even if he did let her train on her own as he occupied himself by training other apprentices as cultivator, he forbid Masako from ever becoming Demon Slayer: she could still train for leasure, or as a hobby, but now that Ryu (her father) had lost both his friends, an arm and a leg in his last mission, he really didn't want her to end up the same way he had.

Just like Hinata, one of Ryu's trainees, had told Masako one night before going to bed, when she asked him why Ryu didn't want to send her to a possible death but was OK doing so for other young promises... Ryu's only crime was loving her too much, and worrying like every parent would have in his shoes.

She rebels, one night, by taking his father's kusarigama while he sleeps and letting her frustrations go in the forest, using the weapon to create a whole opening among the trees. She knew the first forms of Stone Breathing by self-taching and observation of her father, so the devastation was pretty heavy. She was seen by Kaito, the apprentice Ryu was training at the time, and then scolded by her father and never allowed to train anymore... Not even in her free time, or with a staff, like she had done until her rebellion. He did so because he realized that, to keep her truly away from the world of Demon Slayers, he had to use a firmer hand. He ignored her when she started to try and make amends in the days afterwards, and the Masako Ryu had known until then started to fade: she treated him with immense but cold respect, tried busying herself by doing more "feminine" activities and spending more time with her mother instead of her father, didn't ask him for stories or stare at his training with apprentices anymore... she interacted much, much less.

Ryu realized that he had done something wrong: he had lit a fire in his daughter ever since she'd been eight by letting her train with him, and now that he had lost so much and retired and that she had grown up to fourteen years, in his attempts to shield her, he had severed a strong bond and turned her world upside down. He remembers her last words after the forest incident: she had said, utterly devastated, that the embers in her heart would never truly be set ablaze and that they would have never burned anything worthwhile... That all her efforts in the end were for nothing, and that she would have changed nothing through them.

Ryu, at some point, grows tired of the atmosphere and follows Kaito's suggestion: he writes to his old Sensei, his cultivator, Fukunaga. Since Fukunaga's style isn't to text back, he pops out in front of Ryu's house with his eagle to pay him a visit.

Fukunaga listens carefully to his former apprentice, then asks him to see his daughter and allow her to show him what she was truly capable of.

After examining Masako's performance, Fukunaga has a loooong talk with her father. Since he was affectionate towards his students, former and present, but didn't let it cloud his judgment, he concludes that it would be infinitely better for Masako to become a Demon Slayer instead of letting her fade away, and that if Ryu would keep being immovable, Fukunaga would have trained her himself, to ensure the hardships of her life as a Demon Slayer would be lightened by solid experience, training, and validation. He also observed that it would be wiser for him to contact "an old friend of his" to teach her the basics of Wind Breathing: she wasn't totally compatible with Stone Breathing, and the imput of Wind Breathing could allow her to develop a Form that would be perfectly fit for her: it wasn't the first time Fukunaga attempted joint training with another cultivator in tow.

He gives Ryu a week to decide, and then he leaves, after sparing an encouraging look to both father and daughter.

I bet you already know where this is going: Ryu allowed her to follow Fukunaga, and she swore to him that she would have come back after her eventual Selection, and every mission, to reassure him that she was alright.

During her training, which goes on until she's 16, she fuses Stone and Wind Breathing creating Diamond breathing: it uses two swords, one bigger than the other; the bigger one is used to charge the enemy, as shield even, and for the heavier strikes. The lighter one is used for feints, and strikes that require speed and precision. Trust me: it was incredibly wonky when she first developed it, and Fukunaga and Igarashi (her cultivators) had discouraged her idea in the beginning, but as unstable as her first version of the style was, she survived the selection...splendidly,might I add, even getting herself a friend.

She becomes Pillar when she's 18,almost 19,after destroying a draconic demon on her own: a Lower Moon that swam noisily and messily in a river, making it flood often and becoming the doom of the nearby villages. She gained three ugly scars on the left side of her face, maiming her left cheek and her chin,and one on her back, but her smile stayed just as fierce and her eyes never wavered, even if one of them was milky and her smile looked scary as hell because of the wound; she was lucky she didn't loose mobility of that side at all. Her Hashira alias is Diamond Pillar, from her now almost perfected Breathing Style. She makes best friends with the old Stone Hashira and the Shadow Hashira. Shadow Breathing, for those curious, derives from Wind and Water Breathing: his main holder bonds with Masako because their styles both developed by fusing two already known techniques, and the Stone Hashira respects her efforts. Shadow breathing will become lost in the Canon era because of his holder's misterious death; don't worry, he isn't the one that has the demon friend. He dies while on spy duty: he had infiltrated Douma's Cult, and Masako is sent there with his tsuguko as replacement of the Shadow Pillar... The same mission in which her tsuguko will lose his humanity, and immediately rebel Douma's influence out of pure spite and conviction, saving some prisoners and his teacher in the process.

Masako sees the Stone Hashira retire and leave the spot to Gyomei Himejima (19 years old) when she is 23,and gets her own tsuguko when she is 26: her tsuguko, Kai, is extremely bubbly and optimist to a fault, and she has become more serious with age, but they get along nevertheless.

She is 29 and he is 17 when they investigate the Shadow Hashira's disappearance in Douma's cult and Kai becomes a Demon.

When they are far away from Douma's clutches and sure that he isn't interested in the pursue anymore, Masako has to make a tough choice: but even if her tsuguko agrees with her that she has the duty to kill him and offers himself to justice, she chooses to spare him in the end. She tells him to regain his optimism, because his rebellion has shown her that he would be on the Demon Lsayers side no matter what, and he was still fighting his new monstrous instincts as they spoke, so there was still plenty of humanity in his heart.

In her report, she writes that Kai was lost when they evaded Douma's Cult because he covered her escape with the civilians, and that other infiltrations of the Cult were discouraged.

She spends a whole year helping her former tsuguko, hidden in a cave close to her very narrow den, manage his cravings for human flesh with every method immaginable: she fed him wild animals, exercised in meditation, and allowed him to sleep much more once she understood that it would inhibit the stronger fits of hunger. She neglected her duties as a result, worrying her colleagues, especially the very perceptive Gyomei. They were already suspicious because her report had, um, "plot holes" so to speak, but they had dismissed them believing that it was hindered by her recent loss. It was the other reason they gave to her difficulty of going on missions... But they became flabbergasted when, at 30 years old, she disappeared. Like, just, poofed out of existence. She didn't participate to an Hashira meeting, and the now super-worried Himejima charged himself with the duty to check out her den and ensure that she was alright.

When he entered, he immediately felt the stench of human blood, and... and of a Demon. He had touched the walls and the floor, and realized they were caked with blood: there were no plot holes that time, a fight had happened. Her den had been well hidden, but a Demon had clearly managed to get there. He didn't find a corpse anywhere, not even in the area around the narrow house in the mountains, and using his hyper-sensitivity, he had concluded that Masako had likely been killed a week before... and none of them had noticed. Not even finding her crow, he stopped his investigation and called an emergency meeting, explaining his findings.

Little did they know, Masako had realized that she couldn't hide anymore and that they may have found out about Kai's condition, so she had to enact a fake death: she made Kai use some of his Blood Demon Art to give the feel of a demon's attack, and wounded herself on her forearms and her shoulder, not fatally, but she still splashed the blood on the walls, and then ran away with Kai. She also let him destroy some trees and rocks of the place, and part of her house.

Kai would, again, beg her to kill him, because he still somehow saw himself as an hindrance, a burden, that she had to bear and that had led her to abandon her higher responsibilities. It was his fault that they were on the run, and with an unknown future, now.

Masako, though, is adamant: she chose to stay by his side out of her own volition and following the evidence that he was still human deep down and that his demonic instincts wouldn't win anytime soon, so his condition could be managed. She tells him that they can still fight the un repenting demons without necessarily being Slayers, and that they had new options to reconsider: all the while, they would stand by each other.

Kai is finally convinced. He lets out a roar and he finally curses Douma and Muzan by yelling their names, without dying in the process: thus confirming that he has fully severed his connection to the two, and Muzan's Name Curse doesn't bind him anymore. Kai then follows Masako.

So... For those of you that have gotten until this point: congratulations.

This is, at the moment, Masako and Kai's story. Know that they will meet the rebellious demons later during their self exile,and they still slay bad demons on their own as the White Spirits, two vigilantes.

They will meet the Slayers in the Canon age, when Masako is 34 and Kai is... Um... Oh geez.

How old would he be? 25,maybe,but since he is a demon... I dunno, is it really important?

Remember, this is FANON MATERIAL. THE ORIGINAL WORK IS GOTOUGE-SENSEI PROPERTY, KIMETSU NO YAIBA, AND I CLAIM IT IN NO WAY. MY FANFICTION AND FANARTS ARE NON PROFIT, AND I OWE THE INSPIRATION TO THE ORIGINAL AUTHOR.

See ya!

[back-and-totheleft]

"Hollywood rabble rouser"

Late one night in the summer of 2008, I found what turned out to be a stockbroker’s iPhone in the back of a NYC taxi. Turning it on in order to contact the owner, I noticed that amongst the stock watch apps and currency converters was an icon of Gordon Gekko, the corrupt market raider immortalized by Michael Douglas in Wall Street, Oliver Stone’s 1987 tale of insider trading and corporate excess. Intrigued, I hit Gekko’s pixilated face (it felt good) and a website flashed up with an entire transcription of his infamous “Greed is good” speech — one of Hollywood’s most iconic parables to the pursuit of unrestrained greed. Whoever owned the phone found those words as important as checking Facebook or texting his girlfriend. Gekko was his hero, his daily inspiration.

Watching back Wall Street a few weeks later as news of the Lehman Brothers collapse and global recession spread, it struck me that a whole generation of financiers must have grown up, like Charlie Sheen’s character Bud Fox, yearning to be Gekko. He was the business equivalent of a rapper wanting to become Tony Montana, another Stone creation. And some of these brokers, as we’ve all since discovered, were willing to trade money that didn’t exist in pursuit of pin stripe suits, corner offices, penthouses, boats, women, and stacks of cash. Perhaps the perks made the 22-year prison stretch Gekko received at the end of the film seem like a viable risk. Or they deliberately chose to ignore his downfall.

Inspired by financial fiends like Bernie Madoff, Stone decided to spring Gekko out of prison for Wall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps. Set in 2008, he is a reformed character that tries, and fails, to warn business leaders of the impending credit crunch. Many fans are understandably nervous about Douglas reprising his Oscar winning role, especially since his hair gel and brick phone have long been put into storage. Stone, who only agreed to direct the film because he felt that current financial climate lent itself to a sequel, understandably feels that it’s time for bankers to grow up. As the director of Natural Born Killers, JFK and Platoon he’s used to Marmite reactions. But, after giving Dubya an easy ride in W, will Gordon 2.0 be one step too far? Is the world ready for goody Gekko two shoes? Or will traders across Wall Street be deleting their “Greed is good” iPhone bookmarks forever? As they say on the stock market floor, let the bull charge.

Tim Noakes: When you were 18 your father got you to work on a financial exchange in France. Was that your inspiration for Wall Street?

Oliver Stone: No, it was a great summer job actually, because it was very exotic. My father was always into the stock market, into numbers. He loved that world in New York and I grew up on the fringes of it but I wasn’t particularly attuned to it. So it was a chance to see it first hand but I didn’t do very well as a trader. In those days you’d run from the phone booth in the back to the floor. It was cocoa and sugar. It was violent and busy. They used to elbow each other to get into the inner circle, like matadors. It was a real crush. I elbowed my way through it and got up to be assistant buyer, which was very complicated because you had to make the orders for everything right. You couldn’t screw up. A lot of money’s involved. So then I thought I should be one of the cocoa buyers. I was a little too ambitious for my own good.

Your father died before you made Wall Street. What do you think he would have made of it?

I think he would have appreciated that I had done a business movie. We always talked about it. He loved movies and he took me to them. We discussed them afterwards, which was an invaluable experience, and he would say that there weren’t many business movies. And there weren’t. There was not a specific genre. Hollywood was not into the business movie concept. It’s hard. I can understand why. It’s all financial talk, it’s not interesting to most people and it lacks those human emotions. Money is an interesting subject, however, for America. That’s why I addressed it in 1987. I thought, ‘Americans love money’, and what lengths they will go to get it is what that movie is about. Especially coming off Platoon, which is a different kind of movie. I was trying to prove that I could do something domestic with ‘Wall Street’.

The original was very much of its era.

It was the era of “Greed is good” and Reagan. With Wall Street 2, I’m obviously more mature, I’ve done more films, I have more confidence, I hope. I’m trying something a little bit deeper in the relationship field. There’s no Darryl Hannah in the movie. There’s a real English girl this time (Carey Mulligan). She anchors strongly the emotions of the film, because she is damaged. She’s the daughter of Gordon Gekko, if you can imagine what that can be like.

Michael Douglas once said that your style of directing is like taking people into the trenches. What did he mean by that?

He makes it sound like I dress him up in uniform and have a military hierarchy. Every single actor that I’ve worked with, and there’s obviously dozens now, you’d have to talk to every single one of them to get their perception. I would say some would disagree. Maybe Michael, because he hasn’t been in the military, would regard it as a military experience. I didn’t think of it that way. I think of a movie as an organisation that has to work at a very fluid pace involving a large amount of people who have to move quickly over a landscape. Call that what you will. It could be an adventure party or a military organisation. It’s really a satellite business. You form, you group, you rehearse, you shoot, you separate. It’s very nomadic. In that chemistry you bring together so many conflicting types of people who have different kinds of egos. It’s quite a mix. At the end of the day, if you look back at the — what is it? 19, 20 films — that I’ve directed, it’s just a mix of styles. Sometimes it really works with people. It clicks. I think Michael did great work on both films, so I’m very pleased with his result. My style might not have been good for him, but it works for other people. Some people, like Shia LaBeouf and Josh Brolin, were digging it. They loved the way I worked because it was intense and to the point and relatively fast.

Do you see yourself as a hard taskmaster or a disciplinarian?

No, I’m not a disciplinarian. I’m disciplined with myself and I think I try to lead by example not by imposition of my will. I try to lead by example. That’s just to say that people know that I’m trying to get this thing done. My approach is that we’re all in this together. The idea is king. We all serve that king. It is not a democracy, it is a constitutional monarchy, so to speak, with strong legislative power in the House of Lords. No, but the idea is king. I repeat that. Not the director. The idea. I serve the idea.

How do you balance the logistics with trying to create a piece of art?

Oh boy, if I didn’t tell you I wasn’t humbled so many times, you would not believe it. It’s a very humbling experience to make a movie, because you’re at the mercy of the elements. Of the winds and the weather as well as conditions that can go wrong — disease, sickness, bad tempers. All sorts of stuff can happen. Given that nature, to pull off a movie is extremely difficult. The editing room is another humiliation. All your mistakes are thrown back in your face. No matter how many good choices you make, and making a movie involves thousands of choices, you’re constantly having to question yourself again. I find it a very difficult position. I don’t think I enjoy it. I think I’m more experienced at it but I don’t think I completely enjoy it. I think sometimes it’s so painful you want to scream bloody murder and run somewhere.

What’s the cut-off point? How do you stop?

How do you stop? A famous director once said that every film is abandoned, never finished.

So you just let it go?

Some people won’t but I do let it go. I’m not looking for perfection. I don’t believe in it. I believe that a film is many things to many people and it changes over time. I think you have to feel good about it and about what you did. It hangs together and it’s going to be a story that can move an audience. It’s so difficult to pull off quickly. It takes time.

The world’s moved on since Wall Street. Were you apprehensive about creating a sequel to such a well-loved film?

Apprehensions? No. I’d have had more apprehensions if I’d had to do it in 1990, I think. Twenty-three years is a long time to call it a sequel. I think of it more as a bookend.

Don’t you think that’s laying you open for even more criticism? Look at what George Lucas did with Star Wars..

We’re not going back into that period. The beauty of this thing is that there’s a new period upon us, which is quite different, technically. It’s a different kind of Wall Street. The landscape has changed. It’s no longer 1987. It’s really a computer game now. The money has accelerated at a square root that is beyond belief from millions to billions. Hedge funds invest 30–40 billion dollars. Even to have one billion dollars is an enormous amount of money. When you hear these guys say, “Oh, it’s just a billion dollar hedge fund” it’s unbelievable arrogance. The heights are dizzying, and the losses are dizzying. It’s just unbelievable what happened. By all accounts it was a near-fatal heart-attack.

Were you planning on revisiting Wall Street is the crisis hadn’t happened?

No, that was the catalyst for it. It wasn’t the only reason. It was a wonderful idea for a script, that Gekko would be a different type of person. That he would start from the outside. He didn’t have power or connections anymore. Time had passed. He was dated.

Is Michael Douglas in danger of becoming a pastiche of what made Gordon Gekko good?

I feared that. That’s why we approached it in a wholly different way. Michael is playing it twenty-two years older, he’s coming out of prison. Michael has changed in that interim. He was a charming rogue, certainly, in the Eighties. You saw a lot of that in his subsequent performances. You saw a lot of Gekko in later films, so I think it was smart to move away from that pastiche, as you call it, because it would have been boring after a while. There are flashes of the old Gekko, which I love, but it’s not like the charming reptile, so to speak. It’s a different man now. I’m not saying that he’s a wholly reformed figure looking for a martyrhood, but what’s interesting about him is what he’s going to do, and how he’s going to play the game to get back. He has suffered extensively in prison, his family has fallen apart, his oldest son has committed suicide. It’s very tough on him.

How did you persuade Michael to get back on board?

Frankly, I didn’t convince anybody. I passed on the script in 2006. It wasn’t important for me to make it. I felt, what was the need to make this movie if it was going to glorify the pigs on Wall Street? They were really making money and it was ugly. There was a spate of books too like The Wolf of Wall Street, which was a big hit and they are going to make a movie out of that. There was kind of a surfeit and there was sickliness to it all. I got turned off by it. I passed, and I moved on with my life, and I did W and World Trade Centre and stuff like that. Then there was this crash and the crash changed the equation I think, I hope.

Do you think the original message of Wall Street failed because young traders ended up idolising Gordon Gekko?

That’s a very good question. Frankly, I wondered at times. The original Wall Street came about because of my experiences on Scarface. I was living in New York and I was hanging out with the dealers and the mob. That whole scene in Miami was a very shocking thing in 1982–3. Wall Street, was like Scarface north. I was suddenly seeing people my age, in their twenties, making millions of dollars, so easily, so quickly. Moving inordinate amounts of money. Also, snorting and drinking. The partying scene had really kicked in big time in the 80s. It was all new to me, so that’s how that was born. Then it went to excess. But I was very clear that Gekko was the antagonist in the movie, but as you say a lot of young people caught on to him. I do think, and perhaps I’m retrograde, that although he was not feted at the time the anchor of the movie is Charlie Sheen.

But no-one wanted to be Bud Fox.

Well that’s the movies. They want to be heroes. They want to make money. I did meet a lot of people in their 40s that said, “When I saw your movie I was studying this-or-that at this-or-that school, I was going to do history or medicine or law but then I saw the movie and I moved to Wall Street for that reason.” The the kicker was that some of them were multi-millionaires, one of them was a billionaire, and they had moved to Wall Street because of the movie. I said, “Oh boy, I wish I had a royalty on that.” These guys are really rich.

I find that quite worrying.

I gave birth to some rich people. But some of them did good. Some of them created something. That was the whole point of the original. Not to shit on Wall Street but to basically say, ‘Look, this is an engine of capitalism’. This can work. My father always felt that Wall Street was a good thing. It creates companies, it finances new companies, creates research and development, and it does. It still does, by the way, it’s not forgotten but it’s been buried in the greater picture of making bigger profits and more greed, but it’s still there. Wall Street is a good thing. It was a good thing and it can be a good thing.

Throughout your career critics have said you shouldn’t glamourise the people you put on the big screen. Do you like to provoke that reaction?

No, I like to make bigger-than-life characters but ‘World Trade Centre’ is about two very ordinary men who were real heroes. On Bush I guess you could say I supped with the devil and brought out all the reasons I thought why people voted for the guy. There is this fundamental thing which Americans like in him, and I was trying to root that out and how he became President.

You were criticised for making Bush too likeable.

You can fault that, but he was re-elected. I didn’t like him. I was very clear — I empathised. Empathy means I walked in his shoes, or tried to. As opposed to sympathised. I don’t agree with anything he said. Anything. I think he was a disaster. It was a nightmare eight years.

Do you think you were too soft?

No. I wish I’d done it a year earlier and it would have been more timely. He was out of favour when it came out, because of the economy, but frankly the movie was about the national security state which concerned me more.

Why are you drawn to these anti-heroes?

They don’t do me any good. Nixon, too.

I see a lot of similarities between Tony Montana and Gordon Gekko. In Scarface, Tony says “You need people like me to point the finger at and say, ‘That’s the bad guy’”. Do you think film critics see you in that light?

I think you’re right. I think film critics have me as a punch ball. It’s an easy target, I guess. I’ve been misidentified with the characters, but I think over time you see that there’s a whole assortment of different characters. But I agree, I think that’s true and I think that’s hurt me. It’s hurt my career as well as some of the political statements I’ve made and positions I’ve taken in documentaries I’ve made. They’ve hurt me too and they’ve given me a profile that’s not necessarily me, it’s just a profile. Absolutely.

There’s been huge furor recently that you’re reported to be attempting to humanise Hitler, Stalin and Mao Zedong.

I think it’s out of context. I did use the word ‘scapegoat’ and I think that was an unfortunate word, but frankly it’s a very interesting history that we’re putting together. We’re using the facts that we have, that are known but have been forgotten. There’s no question that Hitler had a big hand up the ladder. He didn’t come out of nowhere. He is a Frankenstein, he is a monster and I have no sympathy for him, but he was created by a Dr Frankenstein. That Dr Frankenstein is a very interesting mixture and you have to study cause and effect to understand history, otherwise you don’t learn anything from it. It’s my fault because I’m interested in the world, and I’m willing to go out there. I’m not trying to provoke, I’m trying to look for the truth. I’m trying to shine a light. For Christ’s sake, I feel like we’ve become so politically correct that you can’t do shit anymore. You’re not supposed to turn around.

Do you feel like you sometimes exploit sensitive subjects too much? More than some people can take?

Well, that’s why I like the English. They’re much more out there and they’re willing to explore subjects that the Americans are not. Having been to war, having seen the devastation America visited onto Vietnam, I cannot just be another typical American and live in isolation. My taxes are going as we speak to blowing up people in Afghanistan. I don’t feel good about that.

Back to Wall Street. Gekko says “Every dream has its price”, what’s the biggest price you’ve paid to get to where you are?

I’d have to talk to my psychotherapist, who I haven’t seen in ages. I suppose the price is that you do have long absences from home and normal quotidian values, at times. Your children grow up and you have to readapt to the fact that you haven’t been the attentive father. That’s a big issue, but I have been as attentive as I can be in taking care of them. Still, there’s gaps there. Divorces have happened. Those things.

I see Wall Street as epitomising the ruthlessness of the Eighties. During that era did you find yourself being a slave to the success that you had earned?

Yeah, I suppose everybody can become a mental slave to the need to produce. Remember, I was on a roll in the sense that I had to get financing for very complicated movies. I felt like I had a mission. To get JFK made in that era was very tough, still. You need heat. To make that movie after The Doors you need to keep rolling. In a sense I worked very fast, and hard, but I knew that I could get things done. Nixon was sort of the end of the line. I was making movies all those years. Platoon was impossible to get made. So was Salvador. Every single fucking one. ‘The Doors’. They were always problems. There were always tremendous issues. You asked what the price is? The price was to keep going fast, before they change their mind. The idea was ‘Wrap it up, get another one done’. These are tough subject matters. With ‘Nixon’ I’d done eleven or ten, I was exhausted. Frankly, I needed to take a break.

What kept you moving on? Obviously the pressures that you’re talking about manifested in different ways. You had your drug problems earlier on, but how did it manifest when the financing started to crumble down? Did you resort to those kind of vices?

I think there’s other factors. There was a lot of living. A lot of pain. Children. Divorces. This and that. But I think I have been very successful. I got movies made that wouldn’t have been done in the normal radar. They were not on the scope.

In Wall Street 2 Shia LeBeouf says, “No matter how much money you make, you’ll never be rich”. With all your success, do you empathise with that sentiment?

Of course I do. I don’t think money is the solution to happiness. Life is complicated, but certainly money can have the opposite effect. It can make you unsatisfied with life, and make life harder for you. There are two effects of it. One is that it leaves you unsatisfied, you always want more, as we see from these billionaires. Two, it leaves you falsely content and over-satisfied.

And you’re not either?

I don’t feel that way, no. I feel like I’m one trade away from disaster.

The new film is called Wall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps. What gets you off to sleep?

What gets me off to sleep? Sonata. Medication. I’m just joking. The best solution for sleep is having lived a full day and tried hard to live life fully. That makes you feel the reward of sleep.

-Tim Noakes, "The Hollywood rabble rouser sets his sights on a new generation of Wall Street wolves," Medium, Mar 3 2010 [x]

[chierafied]

Challenge Accepted! (SKW2020D7)

For SessKag Week 2020 Day 7, I tried my luck with the SessKag Trope Generator and got "Sesshoumaru mistakes Kagome's Sass for Flirting" & "Sesshoumaru's mobile day care". This bit of silliness ensued.

Also posted on AO3, Dokuga & FFnet!

When, in the final year of high school, Kagome had needed to fill out forms for career counselling and to start seriously planning her future… This hadn’t made the list.

For one, she had not been sure back then if she ever could return back to the Feudal era. 

But even when she had been considering that unlikely (or so she had thought) scenario, she had pictured it all very differently.

She’d had daydreams of her and Inuyasha. Of a peaceful life in the village together with Miroku and Sango. Or maybe one of adventure, back on the road and roaming across the Sengoku era Japan.

Being covered in someone else’s bodily fluids and wrangling a hanyou toddler gearing himself up to a full-blown temper tantrum hadn’t featured into her expectations. 

Not even in those rosy imaginations of her and Inuyasha’s possible future children.

She really hadn’t had a clue back then, huh?

To begin with, the well had reopened, and Kagome had abandoned all the plans she had made for the future in a split-second decision to return to the past.

Secondly, she and Inuyasha, well… It turned out they were the best of friends, but any romantic notions Kagome had once harboured had died a fairly quick death when expectations and reality did not quite manage to meet.

And finally, somehow, she had ended up running an unofficial orphanage in Edo.

It had probably begun because Kagome had been giving lessons to Shippou and Rin, as well as Miroku’s and Sango’s children. 

She’d wanted to fill her days with something productive, but it turned out that growing up in the 20th century didn’t really give you all the skills and knowledge needed to fit into the life in the 16th century.

But the one thing that she did have that most people around her in the village lacked, was comprehensive education.

In hindsight, deciding to put her knowledge into a good use might have been a mistake, Kagome reflected, struggling to tie the obi around the screaming toddler. 

Another young hanyou, twin sister of the charming boy currently preoccupied with throwing his tantrum, tottered in on unsteady feet, then latched onto Kagome’s leg.

Literally.

Kagome winced.

“Momo-chan, sweetheart, please remember to be mindful of your claws,” she told the hanyou girl clinging to her leg.

The girl solemnly looked at where her tiny hands were resting on Kagome’s bare shin, and then carefully eased her hold.

Kagome let out a breath, and as little Mr Cranky Pants was all changed up, set the snarling and shrieking child down.

He kicked his tiny clawed feet against the floor in utter fury, and Kagome had a snapshot of understanding what Inuyasha might have been like as a child. 

She'd probably dodged a bullet there. Imagine her and Inuyasha's offspring, inheriting their temper from both parents!

Not a rosy picture at all, that.

In fact, it suddenly made Shinji-kun seem a veritable little angel.

Or perhaps that title should go to Momo-chan, Kagome amended, as the girl knelt down by her brother and stroked his hair.

Awwww!

Moments like these, Kagome thought, warmth swelling in her chest, were what made it all worthwhile.

But first things first, she really needed to change into a clean kosode herself and wash the baby puke out of her hair.

“Rin?” she called out, hoping the young woman would be free to look after the twins while Kagome made herself presentable again.

All right, so she might have exaggerated a little, earlier. It wasn’t really an unofficial orphanage, and Kagome wasn’t quite running it either.

They had six orphans altogether, and although Kaede, Rin and Kagome were the main caretakers for the children, the whole village pitched in to help where they could.

Even Shippou, who was always a very sought-after playmate whenever he came back to Edo.

Most of the children were human, only the young twins were hanyou. 

The three oldest children, each old enough to look after themselves, for the most part, lived with Kaede and Rin. The arrangement suited all of them, actually, because Kaede was not getting any younger, and the additional help around the house was a huge weight off of her and Rin’s shoulders.

Kagome, meanwhile, had had the dubious honour of looking after the hanyou twins.

The logic there had been that, as a miko, she was the best suited for the task, as most villagers would not be a match for a pair of half-demons, toddlers or not. And unlike Kaede, she was young enough to keep up with the pair.

Kagome, technically, was also taking care of the youngest child, hence the baby puke in her hair.

In practice, though, the infant boy spent a lot of time over at Sango’s and Miroku’s, as Sango had very kindly volunteered to be the little baby boy’s wet nurse.

Rin still had not showed up, but all of a sudden, Shinji-kun’s temper tantrum ended, and the snarling and shrieking stopped.

Ahh, blessed silence, was all that Kagome had time to think before a flare of youki from the edge of the village raised her hackles.

Oh no.

He was back.

And he only ever did that stupid flare thing when he wanted her attention.

And he only ever wanted her attention when…

“Oh god, not another one!” Kagome groaned out lout, exasperation seeping into her very bones.

It was all the miko’s fault.

Sesshoumaru did not know how, but it was the only logical conclusion he could draw.

For years, decades, well over a century, he had wandered far and wide, in perfect solitude. (Jaken didn’t count.) 

But somehow, right after his paths had first crossed with the miko, he had met Rin. 

Eventually, they’d been joined by Kohaku.

After their victory over Naraku, he had parted ways with the both of them and resumed his peaceful lone existence.

And alone he had remained (Jaken still didn’t count), for a blissful three years.

Then the miko had returned.

And once again, inexplicably, he had come across a human child who had insisted on following him.

Then there had been two others, banded together until they stumbled on Sesshoumaru.

Then a pair of young neglected hanyou.

Then he had come across a raided village and had heard the wail of a human infant from among the ruins, tucked away into a safe corner, probably by its now-deceased mother.

Since it was all miko’s fault, Sesshoumaru had decided the children should be her responsibility, not his.

It was a stroke of genius, even if he said it himself.

Like killing two birds with one claw.

From the very start, the miko had been a complete mystery to him.

Not the least because of the mixed signals she was always sending.

It had always been obvious there was some sort of… involvement between the miko and his younger half-brother. Sesshoumaru hadn’t known or hadn’t cared to know the exact nature of it.

Yet, throughout their very loose acquaintance, the miko had been challenging him.

Even upon their first meeting, when she had watched from the side lines while he and Inuyasha had battled over the mastery of Tessaiga in their father’s tomb, the miko had still managed to stand up to him, by yelling advice to Inuyasha.

Then, adding insult to injury, she had been the one to pull their father’s fang out.

At every turn, she had defied him and stood her ground, talked back to him, demanded explanations of him, called him names, never shown fear... Always ready to pitch her will against his.

The miko had shattered his armour with her arrow early on in their acquaintance, and if that hadn’t been a challenge, Sesshoumaru didn’t know what was! Especially when she had promptly fired another arrow at him afterwards! 

So now, at last – and once it had become clear whatever there was between Inuyasha and the miko did not exceed the bounds of friendship – Sesshoumaru had started to challenge her back.

Currently, his preferred method of doing so was depositing the orphans he collected at her doorstep.

And to the miko’s credit, she had risen to the challenge marvellously.

Speaking of…

Sesshoumaru slanted a glance over his shoulder, and at the human boy following after him beside Jaken.

“We are almost there,” he informed them, his voice even.

Soon enough, they could see Edo in the distance.

A small smile rose to Sesshoumaru’s lips.

He was looking forward to the next encounter, eager to see how the miko would respond this time.

Sesshoumaru gathered his youki around himself and then let it flare up, sending a signal to his miko.

He was coming to give her her next challenge.

After finally getting Rin to look after the twins, Kagome marched to the edge of the village, where she immediately assumed a confrontational pose – hands on her hips, blue eyes glaring at Sesshoumaru.

Her gaze flicked to the young boy nervously fidgeting next to Jaken. He was human and looked to be around ten years old.

Kagome swallowed a sigh and turned to the boy.

“Hello, sweetheart. Welcome to Edo, my name is Kagome. I’ll talk to you a little later; for now you’d probably like something to eat, right? Jaken, please take him to Kaede’s.”

The kappa sputtered, but despite the grumbling under his breath, obeyed, telling the boy to follow along as he tottered away.

As soon as the two had left, Kagome whirled back to Sesshoumaru.

“How does this keep happening?” she demanded to know. “Where do you find these children? Why do you keep on bringing them here? I can’t do this anymore Sesshoumaru, I swear! This has gone on long enough!” 

She was pushing into his personal space now, all but wagging her finger at his face in righteous fury.

“I agree,” Sesshoumaru intoned smoothly.

“I’m telling you,” Kagome growled. “...Wait, what?”

“You are correct, miko, that is time to bring this charade to an end. Entertaining though it has been, I suggest it is beyond time for us to formalise our relationship.”

And just like that, Kagome’s anger was gone. Vanished, together with any sense she’d previously had of this entire conversation.

What was the infuriating daiyoukai on about?

“What relationship?” Kagome asked, suddenly apprehensive.

“Do not act coy with me, miko,” Sesshoumaru said, his eyes hooded. “We have been going around these circles for years now.”

“What circles?” Kagome was growing both more alarmed and confused by the second.

“I have presented you with multiple challenges,” Sesshoumaru told her patiently, nodding towards Kaede’s hut. “You have risen to each one and proven yourself brilliantly.”

“Challenges?” Kagome glanced at Kaede’s hut, then her own, then at Sesshoumaru. “You’ve been bringing me children because you’ve wanted to challenge me? What the hell?!”

“In part. Mostly I brought them because of the inconvenience. Nevertheless, I figured you would not be averse to a challenge, now that you and Inuyasha are no longer… involved.”

Flabbergasted. That was the word. That was what Kagome was feeling. Her mind simply wasn’t keeping up with the complete lack of logic of Sesshoumaru’s conversation.

“What does Inuyasha have to do with this?” 

“You have been challenging me since the beginning of our acquaintance,” Sesshoumaru began.

I have? Kagome wondered, trying to think back to see what on Earth Sesshoumaru could be referring to.

Maybe the time she’d had an arrow ready and aimed at him and had shouted the next one would be for his heart?

She grimaced.

“But for the longest time I was not certain if I should respond in kind, especially as Inuyasha had a prior claim,” he continued.

What claim? No. Kagome shook her head. No matter how much the daiyoukai tried to explain, none of this was making any sense.

“However I have now responded to you in kind. And you have proven yourself to me, and I assume likewise my performance whenever you have challenged me has met your approval as well. Thus, I think it is time to stop playing these games and make it official.”

“Make what official, Sesshoumaru?” Kagome snapped losing patience. 

Feeling stupid also didn’t help her temper.

Sesshoumaru blinked, slowly.

“Our mating, of course.”

Kagome’s mouth fell open. No words came out.

She was pretty sure that hell had just frozen over.

Unless…! Maybe?

She pinched herself and hissed in pain.

Nope, still in the middle of this absurd conversation.

She probably should say something.

Ask Sesshoumaru if he had completely lost his damn mind, maybe.

Be firm.

“M-mating?” Kagome squeaked.

Way uncool, Kagome, she chided herself.

Her mind was furiously trying backtrack. Trying to find a previous save point from a time when the world had still made sense.

“Yes,” Sesshoumaru said, unhelpfully, plunging Kagome further into chaos.

“So what you mean by challenging is…?” Kagome asked, in a vain attempt to recover some sanity.

“A typical behaviour of a suitor. How do you know if the object of your interest is truly worthy of your affections if you do not challenge them to prove themselves to you?” Sesshoumaru said, finally sounding unsure of himself

Oh.

The light bulb finally clicked on.

Oh no.

Was Sesshoumaru telling her… That basically the entire time they had known one another… he had thought she’d been flirting with him?

Kagome stared at him in mute horror.

He’d been bringing her orphan children in some convoluted and misguided effort to flirt back?!

Oh god.

“I sense some reluctance from you.” Sesshoumaru frowned.

No shit!

Kagome tried to gather her brain from the floor and scramble it for some sort of sensible words she might offer to Sesshoumaru, but before she could find any, he continued.

“Perhaps I have not proven myself to you yet? Do you wish to issue one last challenge?”

“I… Umm…” were all that Kagome’s poor brain had left to offer.

Sesshoumaru nodded gravely. “Very well. I accept.”

With three quick steps, Sesshoumaru had closed their distance.

All of a sudden, Kagome had to crane her neck in order to meet his eyes.

There was a look there, glimmering in those golden depths, that unnerved her more than this entire disaster of an encounter had.

As he leaned forward, Kagome’s eyes widened, her heart jumped, her stomach plummeted, her breath caught.

And then he was kissing her and… wow.

Wow. 

Okay, maybe this crazy notion of his did have some merit if this was what he had to offer.

His hand had come up to cradle her head. His fingers tangled in her hair, his claws lightly scraped against her scalp.

Whoo, talk about toe-curling.

One eternity later, Sesshoumaru pulled away.

Kagome drew in a quivering breath, her heart beating a mad, giddy rhythm. 

Had he proven himself?

You bet.

Still dazed, she looked into his eyes, the slow beginning of a smile blooming on her lips.

And then Sesshoumaru spoke.

“Are you aware that someone appears to have vomited milk in your hair?”

Ahh, yes.

That.

That they would probably still need to work on.

“Yes, I am,” Kagome retorted. “That tends to happen around babies.”

“Noted,” Sesshoumaru replied, deadpan. “So, have I proven myself sufficiently?”

Kagome bit her lip and took a moment to consider.

“You have proven yourself,” she said slowly. “But I am not ready yet to make our mating official. I think it would be fair if we tried some human courting, first.”

Sesshoumaru tilted his head.

“I suppose that your customs should require equal opportunity,” he admitted, his voice considering. “I must confess, however, that I am woefully ignorant of the ways of human courting practices.”

Kagome gave him a rueful smile.

Just as ignorant as she’d been about youkai flirting, she’d bet. But still, going forward, it would be best to avoid any further confusion and miscommunication.

“Don’t worry,” Kagome told him, reaching to take his hand in hers. “I’ll tell you all about it.”