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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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extra 2 for Tedious Joys - warnings for adult content, WRH/Lao Nie, slightly dubcon, not necessarily in the same universe as the previous extra, possibly AU

ao3 link

Humans had three modes of dealing with evil things: fighting, feeding, and fucking.

Much to Jiwei’s disgust, it seemed that her Master could not be dissuaded from treating with Wen Ruohan through the last of these.

You’re disgusted any time I pick the ‘fucking’ option, her Master said tolerantly. He was watching Wen Ruohan’s body as the other man moved through the crowd like a shark amidst waters filled with fat fish, merciful and restrained only in his current lack of interest and yet convinced of his superiority. You’re barely more interested when I pick ‘feeding’, and my body would collapse if I stopped doing that.

I’ve heard good things about inedia, Jiwei retorted, but her Master only laughed. You agree that he’s evil, though.

Jiwei, sweetheart, you think almost everyone is evil.

Because they are!

The ethical frailty of humanity was practically a given at this point: one need only look around this sect conference to find examples of it, the hall teeming with the stench of moral corruption. Sect leaders who would sell their daughters for an iota more of power, who had blood on their hands from executions conducted behind closed doors, liars, thieves, cheats, crooks, evil –

To be both good and evil is natural, Jiwei, even for us two. It’s not worthy of a death sentence.

Jiwei was not arguing in any seriousness: she had long ago reached the conclusion that it was not a debate that her Master was inclined to yield upon, and of course he had long ago won the argument. After all, her Master had done his share of terrible things too, in his time, to defend his sect and his family as needed, and she had been at his side, aiding him as she ought.

She was not as rigid as Baxia, that fearsome child, who longed only, as her master did, for righteousness; she would not argue with her master the way Baxia did, quibbling over mundanities as if the human world were something that could be judged through the merits of a saber. But then Baxia had Nie Mingjue, whose soul was very near to a saber itself – unbending in its ferocity and clear in its simplicity – and Nie Mingjue listened to his saber in a way his father did not, too close and too compassionate, too forgiving of his inhuman partner’s flaws and too willing to take the time to convince when he ought to simply order.

Perhaps it was simply different for the two of them.

Baxia had roared to life with an ancient soul, a queen among sabers, and even Jiwei would not so easily choose to face her down, for all that she was more clever and more practiced, more thoughtful and more reserved, her power the greater, but her potential worse. Luckily it seemed unlikely to ever become an issue, what with Nie Mingjue earnestly trying to teach Baxia the meaning of being filial to one’s elders, as if age were at all relevant to a saber spirit.

Still, even if she were not Baxia, Jiwei had her own pride: she was still a saber, stubborn and inflexible, and so she said, Even Lan Qiren thinks you shouldn’t fuck him.

Jiwei rather begrudgingly liked Lan Qiren. She hadn’t at first, of course – not that she’d noticed him much when he was just a fellow cultivator her Master had taken a shine to, a teenager with a strange manner and his own pride, but later, when her only thought of him had been to wonder how he would dare attempt to interfere with her connection with her Master – but he was stubborn in his own way, obstinate, uncompromising, tenacious.

There was even unexpectedly some rage in him, buried deep beneath his rules and the scars left on his heart – not enough to do anything with it, the poor soul, but enough to show that he knew what it was. Jiwei had finally started condescending to give him a little of her time and attention, maybe a little of her rage that he always seemed to be seeking: at least he knew that he needed it.

Lan Qiren doesn’t want to fuck anyone, her Master said, fond as always. He, at least, would be more than happy to fuck Lan Qiren if the other man were interested. He doesn’t understand the appeal, so how can he really make a judgment on the matter?

Jiwei wasn’t sure that was how it worked – her Master respected Lan Qiren’s judgment on all sorts of things that Lan Qiren didn’t personally appreciate, and in all honesty she suspected that her Master was thinking with all the brain in the lower half of his body again – but she also didn’t actually care all that much.

Wen Ruohan hates Lan Qiren, she said instead, not for the first time that day.

Her Master frowned, as he did before. I don’t know what’s gotten into Hanhan over it. He even went and got Qiren drunk again, and I thought he swore never to be in his vicinity while drunk ever again, after last time.

Lan Qiren, when drunk, dropped all façade of caring about other people’s lack of interest in his favorite subjects, and also any reservations about using his strength and body to pin people into place – he’d held Wen Ruohan down by the arm, and ended up at one point in his lap to loudly insist that he pay attention because they were just getting to the interesting part, despite assurances by Wen Ruohan that it was not interesting, had never been interesting, and that he would shortly begin to bite off his own limbs in order to escape if it did not rapidly become more interesting.

Her Master had gone over at that point, nominally to assist but actually in order to enjoy having Lan Qiren on his own lap, and yet somehow that had only made Wen Ruohan’s expression worse.

Humans were so confusing.

Didn’t you tell Lan Qiren that you’d rescue him sooner if he got drunk again?

Her Master laughed, but he put down his drink and went: Lan Qiren had drunk four toasts, which was three and three-quarters more than he could tolerate, and he had cornered some poor sect leader and started in on some subject on musical cultivation that even Jiwei, who had no ears, could identify as being both esoteric and extremely boring.

Wen Ruohan caught her Master by the wrist before he got to Lan Qiren’s side.

“You should come spend some time with me, my friend,” he said, his eyes intent, purposeful, gaze as hot as the sun patterned on his clothing. “I have scarcely seen you this evening.”

Because you were too busy trying to get Lan Qiren drunk for some reason, Jiwei said scathingly, and her Master shushed her.

“The days in your Nightless City are long and the nights longer, A-Han,” her Master said, turning his hand to stroke two fingers along the underside of Wen Ruohan’s wrist – the other man released his hand, recoiling as if he’d been burnt; he had never grown accustomed to her Master’s shameless displays of affection. “There will still be time for us to spend time together.”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes narrowed. “But not now.”

“Not now,” her Master said agreeably. “I promised Qiren that I wouldn’t let him embarrass himself.”

“Someone else could do that.”

“They could, yes, but I’m the one that promised him.”

Wen Ruohan’s lips twisted. “You promise him many things. More than you should, with him the sect leader of another sect…”

“So are you, Hanhan,” the Master said. “And don’t I promise you the moon and the stars, if only I could fetch them down for you?”

The poetry of humans was truly insipid, in Jiwei’s view, and yet like all monsters Wen Ruohan both hated and loved the purity of her Master’s emotions, his heart offered on a platter without reservations.

It didn’t seem to be working this time, though.

“Go to him, then,” Wen Ruohan sneered, his jaw tight from where he was grinding his teeth together. “I trust you will tell me, then, when you finally decide to promise him that I will no longer be sharing your bed.”

I like him when he’s jealous, her Master remarked to her, and sometimes Jiwei thought her Master could be a very stupid man. He’s never more ferocious and passionate than he is when he thinks someone has taken something of his.

Never more dangerous, you mean. You always did like the ones that could and did want to kill you.

It adds some spice to life.

Life is not a food. It does not require spice.

You don’t eat, sweetheart; what do you know?

Jiwei considered this comment to fall into the same category as the one about Lan Qiren not knowing a bad idea just because he was sensible enough not to want to fuck it.

“Lan Qiren has no say in who I allow to share my bed,” he said, and stepped forward abruptly: Wen Ruohan, his senses as always tuned to the highest level of paranoia, instinctively stepped back, and so allowed her Master to corner him up against the wall, bringing their faces level and close to each other until their breath was shared. “Don’t think I didn’t see who was sending all those toasts to him, A-Han.”

“You object?” Wen Ruohan hissed, trying to pretend that he was unmoved by her Master’s nearness – as if anyone could miss the blood pounding through his veins, or the hardness beneath his clothing that her Master deliberately pressed his thigh against in a teasing gesture that made Wen Ruohan inhale sharply.

Wen Ruohan was too powerful, Jiwei thought; his wives treated him like a god, and his concubines like something even higher – he had never been treated so intimately, so recklessly and without care for whether or not he approved, and he was fascinated by it.

“Do you like him?” her Master asked, and Wen Ruohan’s eyes went wide in indignation. “The Lan sect breeds for beauty, and he’s got his fair share of it, even if he doesn’t think of it that way.”

“You cannot be serious.”

“There’s something appealing even in his very disinterest,” her Master mused, and Jiwei resigned herself to hearing this again. “He’s above such things, like a statue carved into the mountainside, untouchable and cold, the stone unyielding, and yet his flesh is as soft as any other man’s – it would give if you pressed on it. Turn red if you dug your fingers in, bruising like the skin of a ripe peach.”

Wen Ruohan’s throat worked as he swallowed.

“You like that sort of thing, don’t you? You like it when people are in pain…you like the rush of power it gives you. There are other ways of having power, A-Han.”

Her Master had thoroughly pinned Wen Ruohan against the wall now, even though the other sect leader’s cultivation was higher, his physical strength above their own. Their hips were slotted together, the two of them grinding up against each other, and Wen Ruohan’s mouth was a little agape, his lips and the tongue between them very red.

“There are,” he murmured, eying her Master as if he wanted to peel off his skin and devour him whole, put him in his belly where no one else would be able to reach him. “And this is his: that even now you will leave me and go to him instead.”

Her Master laughed.

“I need to take him to bed,” he murmured, words deliberately ambiguous, and Wen Ruohan jerked in his grasp – perhaps her Master was not so wrong in thinking that Wen Ruohan admired the coldly beautiful Lan Qiren more than he should. “Why don’t you help me?”

Wen Ruohan frowned, even as her Master stepped away. “Help you?”

“Take him to bed,” her Master said, and smiled as Wen Ruohan scowled at him. “It’ll be easier to carry him with two of us.”

Lan Qiren did not especially want to go with them, eager to continue his elaboration on whatever subject he was on now – actually a method for temporarily cutting off someone’s breathing using sound alone, not that anyone would be able to tell unless they had an excellent understanding of musical notation, esoteric cultivation techniques, and the human pulmonary system – although the sect leaders he had cornered were deeply grateful for the intervention. Still, Lan Qiren was a cultivator of song and thought, his strength respectable but nothing in comparison to martial cultivators like Jiwei’s Master or Wen Ruohan; they were easily able to drag him away despite his protests.

Her Master eased the way further by picking up another jar of wine and pouring it into Lan Qiren’s throat as they fought to get him up the stairs, the additional liquor finally acting to push him from wildness into quietude in a single step: he fell asleep at once, instantly becoming as limp as a fully cooked noodle and just as inconvenient.

“Do you have to deal with this every time?” Wen Ruohan complained.

Jiwei’s Master chuckled. “It helps to have experience,” he said, tapping the side of his nose. “Come, get his shoes off while I get the bed ready.”

“You treat me as if I were a common servant,” Wen Ruohan said disdainfully, although he did kneel and remove Lan Qiren’s shoes. Jiwei almost wondered at his willingness, given Wen Ruohan’s usual self-perception as a soon-to-be deity, or at least she did until he ran his fingers up Lan Qiren’s calf and even up to his inner thigh, his gaze firmly fixed on Jiwei’s Master as if in challenge – he was starting something, of course.

“You can’t make him jump when he’s like this,” her Master said, unmoved by the provocation. “He’s utterly insensate; he wouldn’t even notice if you put your hand on his dick.”

“Maybe I should,” Wen Ruohan said, the implicit challenge now outright.

“Maybe you should put it on mine instead,” her Master said. “There’s a second bed in the room.”

Jiwei did not have eyes, but she could enjoy the expression of shock on Wen Ruohan’s face through her Master’s perception of it.

“You’re not serious,” Wen Ruohan said. He did not sound repulsed by the idea – merely surprised that Jiwei’s Master had suggested it, and more than a little intrigued by it.

“I’ve gone night-hunting with him before,” her Master said. “He understands that men who are not him have needs that must be fulfilled; he’s told me before that he doesn’t mind me getting myself off near him, or even while thinking of him, as long as I don’t involve him.”

“You’re rather pushing the boundaries of that agreement, aren’t you?”

Jiwei’s Master had a smile full of teeth – his own type of shark, his own type of monster. “Don’t you like pushing boundaries the most, A-Han?”

It was things like this that drew a clear line between Jiwei’s Master and Baxia’s, Jiwei thought to herself, amused. In the ranking of things that were dear to her Master, his sect came first, and all else second, even family, friendship, or morality; Nie Mingjue, in contrast, would rank family first, morality second, and sect third, and would never take even minimal advantage of a friend, even when the gains were great and the downsides almost none.

Their power over Wen Ruohan was useful to the Nie sect, and pleasing to Jiwei’s Master on a personal basis; the power they drew out from their dual cultivation beneficial to both him and her – they did, in fact, engage in it on the second bed in the room, her Master’s voice rough against his Hanhan’s ear, spinning fantasy and filth at the same time, both their gazes fixed firmly on where Lan Qiren slept innocently on, detached in his disinterest and unlikely to object to anything other than the sheer impropriety of it even if he awoke.

Certainly that had been his reaction the last few times her Master had brought someone back to the single room at the inn that they had been sharing – not that Wen Ruohan needed to know that he wasn’t the first.

Do you intend to court them both? Jiwei asked, curious. It wasn’t the worst idea, even if she despaired at the thought of there being even more fucking instead of fighting: Lan Qiren’s coolness was a good counterbalance to Wen Ruohan’s heat, even if Wen Ruohan’s viciousness was more their speed than Lan Qiren’s level-headed contemplation and compassion. If he obtained them both, her Master could get the benefits of Lan Qiren’s company and conversation, which he truly enjoyed, and Wen Ruohan’s body and cleverness, and perhaps with two of them at his side Wen Ruohan would finally find himself content with what he had, able to stop his endless quest for more, more, more, the yawning pit of greed that lay beneath his arrogance and drove him to do increasingly terrible things.

Perhaps, if they’d let me, her Master replied. His mental voice was tight the way it always was when he dual cultivated with another cultivator, in the time before he reached release – he would be full of energy in the morning, excitable; their morning training together would be especially good for them both, strengthening them as they shared the qi between them. They’d be a force to be reckoned with, especially with me beside them…Qiren doesn’t like sex, but he’s never objected to romance, so it’s not hopeless. Hanhan could be taught to respect limits, and Qiren’s always been remarkably easy-going with those he considers his friends. It would be a good match. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?

You’ve always had eyes for things bigger than you can swallow, Jiwei said. She would roll her eyes if she had them. Well, good luck. Don’t let it be your funeral.

Don’t worry, her Master said, reckless as always. I won’t.

#mdzs #lan qiren #wen ruohan #sect leader nie #my fic #my fics #tedious joys #extras

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tlbodine · 2 years

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I posted 907 times in 2021

240 posts created (26%)

667 posts reblogged (74%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 2.8 posts.

I added 339 tags in 2021

#horror - 65 posts

#writing advice - 52 posts

#microhorror - 35 posts

#horror movies - 35 posts

#writeblr - 35 posts

#trickortweet2021 - 29 posts

#before i kill - 28 posts

#i love this - 21 posts

#writing - 20 posts

#wtf history - 19 posts

Longest Tag: 75 characters

#then the entire plot of the antrum framing device would feel more plausible

My Top Posts in 2021

Here’s the thing

Sometimes a piece of media is empowering because it’s a wish fulfilment fantasy about a world where your pain doesn’t exist anymore, or a universe filled with potential for people like you (for whatever values of “pain” and “like you” are relevant to this discussion).

And sometimes a piece of media is empowering, or at least comforting, because it shows other people who are suffering just like you are, so your emotions are validated and you feel a little bit less lonely.

And both of these things are incredibly important. Neither one should take away from the other. There is nothing morally or aesthetically superior about one or the other. There is and should always be space for both types of fiction to exist.

572 notes • Posted 2021-01-30 23:20:22 GMT

Do you:

- Have a hard time figuring out your plot

- Suffer from sagging middle syndrome

- Struggle to understand how things like beat sheets apply to you

- Study a ton of writing advice posts but feel like they’re mostly bullshit

If any of these apply to you, this guide may help.

Instead of rules and formulas and cookie-cutter story templates, this is a guide that attempts to actually analyze and understand why some story structures work, what they have in common, what advice you can throw out the window and -- most importantly -- how you can use everything you’ve learned to craft your own custom plots and get yourself unstuck.

I’m really proud of this one, and I hope you get a lot of utility out of it.

736 notes • Posted 2021-03-21 02:22:40 GMT

Why the “Intelligent Asshole” Trope Needs to Die

I was watching a video essay about Rick & Morty earlier and it got me to thinking about all of the intelligence tropes I hate or roll my eyes at in fiction. I feel like I’ve maybe talked about some of this before but it keeps annoying me so here I am again with a poorly organized rant.

Intelligent People Are Curious

This is a huge one that the media always gets wrong. The “genius” character in a show is always so keen to tell everybody about why he’s right and all the rest of them are idiots. He knows that his views are correct and everyone else needs to get in line. This sort of intellectual rigidity doesn’t match with most actual smart people.

If there’s a unifying characteristic among most really intelligent people, it’s an awareness of what they don’t know and an insatiable curiosity to learn more.

Curiosity for its own sake -- not material gain or a desire for status -- is arguably a major benchmark of intelligence. It’s a defining characteristic. Smart people want to know how things work, and why, and what happens if the conditions change, and what factors influence those conditions. Smart people do not dogmatically cling to their own knowledge and beliefs in the face of conflict, evidence, or for the power of lording over less intelligent people -- assholes do that.

And “intelligent asshole” is such a common trope now that it’s like the two things have to go together! Which is just...baffling. Most of the really intelligent people in the world -- folks I think we can all agree are geniuses throughout history -- are not and were not especially arrogant people. In fact, a lot of them were notably very humble.

See the full post

909 notes • Posted 2021-06-10 02:35:55 GMT

Challenging Fatphobic Language in Writing: Some Alternative Vocabularies

So I’m currently working on a short story for an explicitly fat-positive anthology, and it’s making me realize just how little language I have readily at hand for describing large bodies in positive terms!

Putting aside for a moment the whole debate over HAES and fat positivity and everything else -- and if you clown on this post, I’m simply going to block you, that’s not what we’re here for -- sometimes you just want to write a story with a fat person in it and you need some adjectives/descriptive language that isn’t overtly gross and/or fetishistic.

Well, I’ve got you, fam. I have compiled this handy list of descriptive terms and phrases for describing big bodies with positive connotations.

Why am I doing this?

Because this:

And this:

See the full post

1198 notes • Posted 2021-12-08 02:50:26 GMT

Pro Tip: One Simple Trick To Making Your Characters Likeable and Relatable

Want a super easy, never-fail trick to making a character instantly 100% more interesting?

Make them a paradox.

There is a reason why certain character tropes are so common:

The scoundrel with a heart of gold

The assassin with a moral code

The badass “normal” in a super-powered world

The cute and childish psychopathic killer

The gruff warrior who’s a softie inside

But you’re not limited to well-trodden tropes, and in fact it’s even better to make your own surprising combinations (because these archetypes are now so expected that they need to be subverted to remain effective).

When you give a character a strong central trait or motif, and then give them a strong secondary characteristic that runs directly counter to that concept, you generate internal conflict, which is automatically interesting. More than that, you make the character more relatable.

The thing is that every single person on this earth feels like they’re special. All of us are privy every day to our own messy dynamic traits. We can put the people around us comfortably into various boxes, but we always feel like we are too complicated to really fit any single description.

So when you give someone a character who is clearly complex in the same way? A person whose identity works at cross-purposes? Someone who doesn’t fit neatly into the box their archetype is assigned? We will find them instantly more likeable and interesting. Give it a try!

1801 notes • Posted 2021-01-21 22:14:01 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post

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rosemary-is-in-pesterquest · 3 years

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ooh! I have thoughts on Eridan!

okay so, to me, Eridan ties into this thing that homestuck has going on with a lot of its more morally grey characters... the question of how responsible young people are for their negative qualities and actions, and where the age threshold for personal responsibility is.

the characters in homestuck all straddle this line between being young enough to consider them victims of the forces that influence them, while also old enough to understand what they're doing and how it affects others... especially because a lot of these kids come off as really smart for their age, and very precocious. we've all been through phases in our lives that make us cringe, not because we're ashamed of something harmless, but because we recognize that we had absorbed something harmful, and took longer than we wish we had to unlearn it. it could be as simple as being kind of a jerk in a misguided attempt to seem cool, or as dramatic as actually hurting someone in an attempt to remedy one's own insecurities by putting down others to seem better by comparison... but how far can you push that before people aren't willing to forgive? before people abandon the notion that better guidance and more appropriate role models could reform someone? and it's especially interesting when you consider how old homestuck's core audience might've been when they first encountered this story, and how it affected their perception of the characters if they saw them as peers, rather than as children from an adult's perspective.

so to talk about Eridan, I wanna frame this in terms of his classpect, because it actually goes a long way towards contextualizing his behavior. Eridan is a prince of hope, meaning that he destroys hope or uses hope to destroy... and this can be seen in practically every conversation he has. if Eridan is contacting someone, it is because he expects something of them. advice, or consolation, or a solution to a problem he's having... it's always something. when he contacts Kanaya, he wants her to auspistize between him and Vriska. when he contacts Feferi, he wants her to give him encouragement, and maybe date him when he asks. and in every case, the way he demands these things by being rude, whiny, or self pitying, makes people reluctant or unwilling to give him what he expects. he destroys what he hopes to obtain.

it goes deeper than that though. Eridan has absorbed this ideology of sea dweller superiority from living on Alternia... and he actually takes it way farther than it even makes sense to. the aristocracy on Alternia use the lower class for all sorts of menial work that they feel entitled not to have to do themselves. they might have the ability to freely cull individual low bloods for any reason, but eradicating all land dwelling trolls would leave a lot of unpleasant yet necessary tasks with no one to do them. I don't think Eridan actually wants to live in a reality where sea dwellers have to pick up the slack of doing things like sanitation work, or construction or something... but another concept that is heavily tied to the hope aspect is delusion. Eridan is exaggerating. he's trying to agree with Alternia's ruthless class structure so hard that it's actually kind of absurd. but Feferi calls him on that... she says she thinks that he self sabotages on purpose. because he knows, at least in some capacity, that the consequences of getting what he "wants" would actually be really uncomfortable to live with.

so not only is Eridan's goal to destroy... it is also a false goal that he constantly undermines. and all of his waffling between grandstanding and self pity destroys his romantic prospects, which are what he actually seems to want the most.

if you look at the way Eridan pursues relationships, he actually makes a lot of logical sense, but not a lot of emotional sense. he's idealized the act of perfectly filling the relationship requirements of each quadrant. he wants Feferi to be his matesprit, which is purely based on the fact that she's high enough on the hemospectrum to be an appropriate match in terms of status. he wants Vriska to be his kismesis, and Kanaya to be their auspistice, and there are hints that Karkat might've been someone he was considering for moiraillegience, though it wasn't emphasized as much. and there you go! his goal is specific, but it's based more on ideals than on the actual needs and feelings of the people involved, and it's totally self centered... he always wants them to cater to his own needs. the reason why he gets as nihilistic as he does on the meteor, is because all of his endeavors to achieve these relationships are falling through. he feels like he has no hope of mending his existing connections, because he still only sees them in terms of people either giving him, or not giving him, what he wants. but the rest of their race is dead. as the last twelve trolls in existence, they only have each other as romantic options. and as Eridan gets more and more desperate, he gets more and more demanding, which is the exact quality that drives everyone away from him to begin with, and it culminates in him having a "if I can't have what I want then nobody can have any of their hopes either" meltdown.

to backtrack a bit, I wanna reconsider questions such as, when is a kid old enough to be held responsible for their own negative qualities? like... when are you comfortable with ceasing to blame environmental factors? when are they just a bad person? is it after they've refused a certain number of chances to make better choices? when do they reach an age, or level of bad behavior, that makes you think they can't be helped to reform from these negative qualities? where does an adult lose their patience for the idea that a kid is just a victim of their upbringing?

obviously Feferi is Eridan's peer, but these are basically the questions she grapples with when she talks to Eridan. it's like growing up next door to a kid whose parents have some aggressively wrong-headed political stances. as you grow, that kid might mirror their parents' way of thinking... and by the time the two of you are in your teens, it's hard to ignore how much of a jerk that kid is becoming. but you've seen them at every step of their development. you know where it comes from. maybe theirs is the dominant political belief in the community, even if your own parents aren't like that. maybe you wonder if you would've agreed with them if you grew up under their circumstances. you've felt the pressure, but you haven't lived in it like they have, and maybe if they just had the chance to grow up under different conditions, they wouldn't be this way. and you are aware that you could be an influence on them... maybe they need you to help them see another perspective. you always got along so well as kids. when did things even change? and that's kind of where I imagine Feferi is at when we're introduced to her and Eridan. it's a crossroads between believing that you might still matter enough to them to change their outlook, and the persistence of their ingrained beliefs. it's tiring to do that kind of work, over a long period of time, to minimal results. when is the appropriate time to give up? in this way, Feferi's own hopes for Eridan fade over time. she says at one point that she was mainly acting as his moirail so he wouldn't try to underfeed her lusus and kill the land dwellers that way. she's not sure how serious he is, and she can't take that risk. deep down, I'm pretty sure Eridan knew he was never actually going to commit a genocide... but his need to grandstand, and legitimate belief in his caste superiority, had convinced Feferi enough that she still felt obligated to manage him as though he was a real threat.

these characters are thirteen years old. they're right at the edge of childhood and adolescence... right at the age where children aren't quite so innocent. they want to assert themselves. they aren't mature, so there's a lot of responsibility that they still shouldn't be trusted with yet, but they've become aware enough to feel like that's demeaning, and to want to be taken seriously. in an effort to make people acknowledge them without looking down on them, they'll try just about anything. they don't have the experience to know what they're doing yet, so it doesn't always work in their favor, and that's frustrating. you can see bits and pieces of this in homestuck's characters. like with the way they try to paint themselves as an authority on something, or shit talk each other in order to emphasize their own strengths. it's a really interesting theme, because homestuck pushes some of these young characters really far in terms of how bad the things they've done can be, or how much their lived experiences have taught them that what they're doing is acceptable. they can be really self aware in some ways, and come off as really childish in others. it's hard to know what you'd do about them in real life... and your answer changes depending on your own age and perspective. it's a really cool gray area to poke around in, and homestuck is excellent at it.

wtf I like Eridan now

#when you think about it a lot eridan really was just a misguided 13 yr old

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goldenkamuyhunting · 3 years

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Hello! In the Ogata and Koito ask you pointed out that Tsurumi put on a show for Usami’s last moments but didn’t even bother to say a word for an injured Koito. I was wondering if you’ve done an analysis on the parallels and differences between Tsurumi & Koito relationship and Tsurumi & Usami.

Hum...

no, I don’t seem to remember making a deep comparative analysis between those two and their relationship with Tsurumi but it’s surely something interesting to dig in.

So... on a first, superficial gaze they might seem really similar.

They seem both young, obsessed with Tsurumi, and do weird things due to him (Koito just can’t speak normally but reverts to fast Satsuma dialect when around him, Usami just tattooes on himself the draws Tsurumi made).

They get flustered beyond belief at the idea Tsurumi might be disappointed and are fiercely loyal to him to the point they loathe who isn’t.

So... what really is different among them? Or are they just the same?

At first the only difference seems to be in their ranking and their social status, Koito is a Second Lieutenant son of a rear admiral therefore high in ranking and in social status, Usami is just a Superior Private, which also means he never managed to go to a military school and therefore is likely low in social status, probably a commoner, something which gets confirmed later on.

But in truth there’s much more than draw a marked line between them and this much more can be found in their respective backstories.

Koito is someone Tsurumi meets when the boy is 14.

The volume version doesn’t tell us if the meeting was planned or casual, but it shows us Tsurumi first putting Koito to his place in various ways, first by pinching his nose and forcing him to stop after Koito slammed against him, then by telling him not to toss around his father’s name but to show his own worth, then by beating his jigen-ryu and slapping him for the first time as one would do with a child and ultimately helping him to get up.

He then gets Koito to bring him to the cemetery and became his confidant, giving him food and pushing him to talk, even of very private matters. It’s very likely NOT for Koito’s benefit, he’s trying to study him as he’s the son of Koito Heiji, the man who’s about to be put in charge of the Ominato Torpedo Division in Hakodate.

Tsurumi knows that Koito Heiji can become a very useful pawn in his plans and, in fact, 2 years after, when Koito is 16, he sets his plan into motion and have Koito kidnapped only so he could help freeing him so as to put Koito Heiji in his debt.

It’s in that circumstance Koito gets a crush or an hero worship thing on him and begins to latch to him, switching from the navy to the army... and all this benefits Tsurumi because it leads Koito Heiji to get even closer to him.

But young Koito himself at the time wasn’t that much of a use to him. Faithful to him, true, but too brash, unable to report something because he switched to Satsuma dialect as soon as he had to talk with Tsurumi, prone to get distracted and not really aware of the goals he has to pursue.

Tsurumi still manage to use him, because Koito has also abilities like his amazing stamina that allows him to keep up with the lighting bandit, but he also has to keep him under Tsukishima’s protection and even Tsukishima can’t really hold Koito’s reins.

Overall though, Tsurumi’s relationship with Koito is the one of a master who got a new pawn, a pawn that is more of use for his connection to Koito Heiji than for himself, a pawn to whom Tsurumi didn’t devote much time and a pawn who is a living reminder of how Tsurumi, despite all his ability, will never be allowed to reach the rank Koito will reach merely because he’s the son of his father.

Tsurumi’s family has fallen, probably in the same time Koito’s family has rose.

Long story short, it’s entirely possible Tsurumi’s relation with Koito is built upon lies he fed to the boy to keep on using him... or better his father.

If Koito were to die though, as long as Tsurumi can mantain a good relationship with his father, it would be of no consequence to Tsurumi.

At the same time, since Koito seemed so devoted to him, Tsurumi didn’t feel the need to reaffirm his care for him should the boy risk to die. He believes Koito would remain faithful even if he were to survive (and he would have hadn’t Ogata forced to acknowledge Tsurumi tricked him and his father) and devoting time to him in that moment means nothing in terms of group morale.

His soldiers aren’t there to see him care for the fallen Koito except for Tsukishima whom Tsurumi believes to be blindly loyal anyway. There’s no point in putting up an act for him as there’s just no need for it and Tsurumi has more urgent business like pursuing Asirpa.

Tsurumi’s relationship with Usami instead started on a completely different level and involved Tsurumi a lot more.

Tsurumi was teaching Usami self defence when the boy was 12, possibly even earlier, they spend a lot of time together, both as a teacher and as a student but also just as ‘friends’ of some sort, we see Usami having Tsurumi use the foot powered water wheel or them walking together, Tsurumi talking about Usami’s future and encouraging him and also mentioning how he’ll have to leave.

Usami, beyond being very strong in fight, is a nobody. He’s clearly a commoner, possibly his family also fell in disgrace after the Meiji restoration as it’s implied his father too was good at fighting, which might be taken as a hint previously his father was a fighter or meant to be one.

They still managed to retain something, the fields in which they work so they aren’t completely broken and can even send Usami to what was called “High Elementary School”, which required paying a tuition... but it’s made clear they wouldn’t be able to let him continue his studies any further.

So, although Tsurumi’s family got off a little better since he managed to do the school needed for him to become a First Lieutenant, he probably feels closer to Usami’s situation than Koito’s.

Usami also has little he can give to Tsurumi.

While Usami is a strong fighter and it’s possible/likely Tsurumi manipulated Usami and Tomoharu into a fight to see how far Usami would go, the result was clearly unexpected and I’ve hard time thinking Tsurumi just devoted all those years and time solely to raise him as a killer.

In short part of the relationship Tsurumi had with Usami might have been a genuine mere student/teacher relation with a bit of friendship in the mix not just pure manipulation merely aimed to use him.

Things changed when Tsurumi reaped more than he sow after Usami killed Tomoharu. Usami basically killed for him and Tsurumi covered up for him and, although Tomoharu’s father was angry, everything actually went at Tsurumi’s advantage.

He got a loyal pet who would do everything for him and who was really good at fighting, he believed he found a key to push men to kill for him and he was entrusted into a position that benefitted him.

I’m not sure Tsurumi might have planned all this but it sure was good for him.

Usami continues to remain loyal to him and, while he also remains an oddball who needs to be watched over because his attacks of jealousy are unpredictable and lead him to murder people, he’s more valuable for himself than Koito will ever be because he’s more competent and his loyalty are solely for Tsurumi, while Koito’s are slightly split as he’s also loyal to his father and to his honour.

Lastly, when Usami dies he does so bringing Tsurumi valuable information (where Koito had accomplished nothing when he got wounded beyond letting Sugimoto and Asirpa escape and stall Tsukishima who assisted him) and he does so in front of Tsurumi’s soldiers, while Tsurumi isn’t in a rush.

Tsurumi at first doesn’t know Asirpa is there, just that a tattooed criminal is there. Usami might have told him Hijikata’s group, Sugimoto’s group and Ogata are also there but this is up to speculation. Long story short, Tsurumi isn’t in a rush and, what’s more, he has an audience.

By assisting Usami and honouring his accomplishments and wishes he shows to his men he’s a good commander who values them.

The fact he ate Usami’s finger contrast with how he kept his wife and child’s fingers so i don’t think of it as a big loving gesture, but there could have been still affection for Usami, whom he had know BEFORE Usami became a pawn in his game and that he had helped raising.

Long story short, it’s possible Usami, in addition to a pratical value for the soldier he was, also had some emotional value for Tsurumi.

So, while both Koito and Usami remain pawns in Tsurumi’s game, Koito has value more for his connection with his father than as a person, where Usami has value as himself, as a soldier (or assassin if you prefer), as someone Tsurumi might have felt some emotional attachment and as a symbol of what a good and loving commander Tsurumi is with his underlings.

Of course I might be missing something but, among Tsurumi’s pawns, Usami might qualify as Tsurumi’s favourite pet, which is clearly a step above Koito, who, sadly, to Tsurumi is more valuable for his connections than for himself... which is not really fair toward Koito as he’s growing to become awesome... but well, Tsurumi hasn’t witnessed his grown yet and when he will... well, I fear it’ll be too late.

Thanks for your ask!

#Golden Kamuy #Koito Otonoshin #Koito Heiji #Usami Tokishige #Tsurumi Tokushirou #Ask #Tsukishima Hajime

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cheshiresense · 4 years

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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.

#headcanon meme: answered #bleach #koyoichi #koyonagi senzou #kurosaki ichigo #kyouraku shunsui #shiba kuukaku #post canon au #headcanon #hi brain #wtaf happened

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frosteee · 4 years

Text

Undertaker and the Dispatch Conspiracy Theory

@frederickabberline

So I loved your discussion about UT and a possible conspiracy within the grim reaper dispatch that I went through the manga and found some bits and pieces which, I feel, support the theory.

[Long ass post under cut]

Background

For those who are unfamiliar, the theory is that UT had discovered something damning about the grim reaper organisation that caused him to defect.

This discovery, we post, is that the forgiveness all reapers are promised is a lie, perhaps even extending to the idea of salvation in general, disillusioning UT and morphing him into the individual we know today. Full details can be found in the awesome ongoing discussion by @frederickabberline, @midnight-in-town et al.

Because of this, UT is experimenting with creating a definite ‘after’ to the end that is death, because the ones he previously believed in, like the P4 did tradition, like the Watchdogs did duty, was fake and only fit to create a cycle of misery. He currently believes himself incapable of salvation, and so creating immortal Phantomhives is the only way he can possibly be with them.

I believe that several aspects of UT’s personality as we know it support this.

UT’s interest in breaking free of fixed, unchangeable fate.

We are shown as far back as Chapter 13 that UT has particular interest in the concept of destiny, commenting that the tie between O!Ciel (and the entire house of Phantomhive by extension) and Queen Victoria is like a ‘chain of fate’, and gets quite angry when O!Ciel declares that he put himself in that position willingly.

Grabbing Ciel by the tie and holding him there is the most directly aggressive we’ve seen UT towards O!Ciel, besides the time on the Campania when UT used him to bait Sebastian, so it seems that comment irked him.

From this it appears he holds a bit of resentment towards O!Ciel for so willingly following the path towards death and damnation.

He also seems to hold similar frustration towards the rest of the Phantomhives for ignoring his warnings and following the cursed path of the Watchdog to the grave.

He is highly amused by twists, and takes great satisfaction in the unexpected, especially when it goes against the grain. Like, for example, when Undertaker is surrounded by enemies on the Campania and he wonders which of them is truly the hunted party.

This before rapidly changing things around and making it no longer a one-sided hunt of an outnumbered rabbit but a struggle to take down a powerful hunter. In this arc, everyone is second-guessing and while UT is the one with the most control over proceedings (with his element of surprise), even in that scenario there were events he could not see coming (e.g.: the iceberg) that he had to work with/around.

Essentially, he enjoyed the unpredictability of the situation, where multiple powerful forces were clashing to decide the end. Fate was in all their hands.

What UT finds amusing also seems to revolve around this idea.

He is amused by two things:

Those who do terrible things to keep the status quo, like the P4 in their murders, which causes UT to burst out laughing after the full story is revealed. The P4 probably remind UT of who he used to be as a model grim reaper - the rigidness of their thinking, repeating the mantra that tradition and rules ‘are everything’ most definitely reminded him of his former life and the ‘grim reaper code’ he lived by. Hell, William is currently the ‘rule-abiding/spouting’ grim reaper of the bunch.

Those who go against the grain in unexpected but positive/game-changing ways. In the same arc, for example, UT comments on O!Ciel’s decision to save Harcourt from the attacking zombies, as such as a selfless act would never have occurred to his more selfish, pragmatic ancestors.

In short, UT is pleased to see actions taken by people, most notably the Phantomhives, that break from the acts/mindset that killed those who came before, and scorns those who try to keep things the same no matter the cost and meet terrible fates.

This also extends to R!Ciel, who I talk about in this post in relation to the Evil Twin theory, where R!Ciel is a direct participant/accomplice to his parents’ murder. I theorised that to create a perfect record, while having only ‘future desires’ and a soulless body to work with, UT had to improvise by splicing what he knew of R!Ciel’s past onto the boy’s record, thus creating memories/knowledge of his past and the ability to function off that.

However, this combined with R!Ciel’s ‘yearning for the future’ records also created a boy who was all too willing to replace O!Ciel as Watchdog and basically resume the terrible march towards danger and death that UT had worked so hard to avoid. His and Tanaka’s reaction to R!Ciel’s announcement that he will resume Watchdog/Earl duties reflects this, I think.

As far as UT is concerned, R!Ciel is making the same mistake as O!Ciel by following the path set out for him from birth, like all Phantomhives.

Then, finally, there’s UT’s interest/obsession with the ‘predetermined end’ that death entails, screwing with which is the driving force of his actions so far, he claims.

It feels strange for a grim reaper to be so curious about that. After all, he has died himself, and entered a sort of limbo existence which, while a punishment, is basically an afterlife.

Grim reapers are promised forgiveness, which can be paired with salvation and entry into Heaven. Demons also exist, which live in an alternate realm not (as far as I know) stated as Hell, but considering souls can be eaten by the demons who live there, so perhaps that is also a destination for souls when they die?

In any case, it would seem strange for a grim reaper to not have knowledge of some sort of afterlife, other than their own, to which souls can go to.

Unless the reapers are simply told it exists, and that they can go there if they ‘serve their time’ - and that the reality is very different.

With this idea in mind, it makes a lot of sense for UT to be a staunch advocate for breaking the chain of fate the Phantomhives are under, to the extent that death itself is overturned, because he never wants to lose another Phantomhive again, as he now believes that reuniting with them in the afterlife is impossible.

UT is so dead set against the idea of following the status quo and one’s ‘fate’ that he is ready and willing to rock the very world ‘The Superior’ governs.

UT’s focus on lies/deception.

UT also appears to be quite focused on lies and deception, either to oneself or others. We first glimpse this in the Circus Arc, where he tells Ciel to take care of his soul, for he only has the one. When Ciel responds that he already knows that, UT questions that (’Boy I know you be talkin shiiiiit~!’).

Then later in the arc, he confirms his own belief - that Ciel cannot/does not know the true weight of what he is losing by continuing down his cursed path, that Ciel is lying to himself in order to continue down it. This is clearly part of his frustration with the Phantomhives as a whole, that they keep lying to themselves in order to keep going towards a fate that only continues its destructive cycle.

Really, all of the people UT has laughed at are lying to others or themselves, or both, in order to justify destructive, morally bankrupt and questionable beliefs and actions. Ciel, the P4, Rian Stoker, etc., etc.

UT is also very concerned with the idea of people lying to others for their own benefit, as all reapers, according to the theory, are lied to.

The people who most reflect UT’s past situation are the Noah’s Arc circus troupe, who were deceived by their trusted elder, Kelvin, that in order to maintain/achieve happiness they had to dirty their hands and continue doing terrible things with no knowledge of when it will end.

Similarly, UT also continued to perform a (literally) punishing and emotionally traumatic task to the best of his ability on the orders of an overseer for the sake of eventual happiness that he discovered to be a false promise. While some of them may have believed Kelvin to be evil and perhaps lying to them, like Joker, they continued anyway because lying was the only way they could handle the weight of what they had done.

It might not be so much of a coincidence that UT begins and ends his role in that arc by pointing out the cost of self-deception/being deceived. He would know - he and all reapers are lied to and effectively kept as eternal slaves and then possibly either killed or damned in some way, but never actually ‘retired’ to Heaven.

Speaking of which, UT specifically notes that one of the most beautiful things about his bizarre dolls is the fact that they no longer have the capacity to tell lies.

Of course, this is all said with the knowledge that UT himself has/had told plenty of lies himself, and is probably deceiving himself that his goal, which is probably impossible, is possible. It’s the only thing keeping him going, after all, and UT is not without hypocrisy.

Hey, he never denied that he had a few screws loose!

UT and Sebastian’s differing views on death being ‘the end’.

Finally, the big one, UT and Seb’s very different views on death as an end. We don’t know Sebastian’s views on the afterlife, or if souls can be cast into his realm like Hell, or if there is a Heaven, but regardless Sebastian believes that a ‘definitive, hopeless end’ has beauty in it.

In response, UT only smiles, but says nothing in response, perhaps not wanting to give away too much personal information at this time. He does not agree, and his actions and words have proven just how much he disagrees.

UT, according to the theory, has entirely lost faith in forgiveness and salvation after death - at least for himself as a grim reaper. Why else would he go through so much trouble to extend life indefinitely? Why would he create a form of immortality for the living Phantomhives he could hope to see again...

Unless he believes he cannot.

Unless he believes he has lost the ones who have died forever, and that the only thing he can do for the ones he has lost is keep mementos of them (like the prayer lockets, which he treasures).

All reapers are promised forgiveness and, it’s implied, salvation in Heaven or something similar. If this was the case, if UT did not have reason to suspect otherwise, why would he bother defecting, when he could just be a model grim reaper for x amount of time and then join his loved ones once he has served his time?

Clearly, UT once believed that death was beautiful, but not because it was the end. Because there was an ‘after’ that he could aspire to and meet those he lost. He cannot agree with Sebastian’s ‘beauty in an end’ idea because to him, a hopeless end is just that - hopeless, miserable, lonely.

The death Sebastian speaks of means only eternal slavery, loneliness, hoping for salvation that never comes. Maybe once he believed death being the end to one’s life was beautiful in its way, as Will discovered in the grim reaper OVA, but not anymore.

Hope this makes sense and gives some food for thought!

#/ phew this was a monster hope I made sense through it all - not feeling well atm so not sure ^^;;;#Dispatch Conspiracy Theory #undertaker black butler #undertaker kuroshitsuji #Sebastian Michaelis #Sebastian Michaelis Kuroshiitsuji #Sebastian Michaelis Black Butler #black butler spoilers #kuroshitsuji spoilers #black butler #kuroshitsuji #theory #discussion #thoughts #meta

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eclecticanalyst · 3 years

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We’re Expecting You...To Boldly Go [part 2]

In my last post, I expounded on the similarities in the general premise and structure of The Love Boat and Star Trek: The Next Generation, two shows that on the surface seem not to have much in common but on closer examination have some unexpected similarities. In my follow-up post on this theme, I will be drawing parallels between the main/regular characters of both shows. The crew lineup on each ship can be broken down into six character functions/profiles: The Captain, The Captain’s Confidant, The Big Brother, The Two Buds, The Chick, and The Kid.

The Captain

Star Trek TNG: Captain Jean-Luc Picard

The Love Boat: Captain Merrill Stubing

“The Captain” is...the captain! Beyond his role as the primary authority figure, he can be characterized in the following ways. Being the one to whom the rest of the crew reports, he is a bit socially removed from the rest of the main characters. While they can pal around with each other, they still treat him with a bit more deference even as he comes to be just as integral a part of their found family as the rest of them. The Captain can be rather intimidating at times—especially in the early days, when he had a tendency to be overly gruff with his crew. Part of that gruffness is the fact that he has very high standards for the people who serve under him. At the same time, however, he cares deeply for those people and is willing to put himself on the line for them, even bending the rules a bit in order to help them out of a difficult spot. He’s full of thoughtful advice should one of his crew ask for it, and is the most likely of the crew to give speeches about moral responsibility. He also has a playful streak, which he keeps under wraps but uses to mess with his crew from time to time. In terms of appearance, he’s older than the rest of the cast and he is bald(ing). He’s played by the best actor of the cast—Patrick Stewart is, of course, Patrick Stewart, I don’t think I really need to say more there, and Gavin MacLeod was a veteran actor (probably best known at that point for his role as Murray on The Mary Tyler Moore Show), able to handle both the comic and the dramatic whenever needed.

The Captain’s Confidant

Star Trek TNG: Dr. Beverly Crusher

The Love Boat: Dr. Adam “Doc” Bricker

I could have called this character profile “The Doctor,” following the same pattern as “The Captain,” but there was another aspect to Beverly and Doc that I wanted to draw attention to, beyond their being the respective healers of their crews. Both Beverly and Doc have a slightly different relationship with the Captain than the other members of the crew. They are a bit closer to the Captain, able to address him easily as a friend instead of as a superior officer if the situation calls for it. Notice that when working, Beverly will address Picard as “Captain” and “sir,” but when it’s just the two of them chatting in a more intimate setting she calls him “Jean-Luc.” Beverly is also one of the few people on board that Picard is comfortable with opening up to regarding his own insecurities or worries, while he takes more care to maintain his “self-assured captain” persona with everyone else. The same dynamic plays out between Stubing and Doc: there are several instances of Doc addressing his friend as “Merrill”—which none of the other members of the crew would even consider doing—and the power difference between the two is not as pronounced as it is between the captain and the other crew members. Whenever Captain Stubing has a personal problem, he goes to Doc for advice, and vice versa. Dr. Crusher and Captain Picard have a history, having been friends long before he took command of the Enterprise. In the same vein, Doc seems to know Captain Stubing’s past more intimately than the rest of the crew, as there are a few episodes in which the two of them discuss Captain Stubing’s alcohol addiction and current status as a teetotaler as if this is something Doc has always known about Merrill.

The Big Brother

Star Trek TNG: William Riker

The Love Boat: Adam “Doc” Bricker

So this is cheating a bit because I already have Doc listed under a character profile above, but TNG’s main cast has more people than that of TLB, so a one-to-one mapping wasn’t going to happen anyway. Doc’s “Captain’s Confidant” role deals with his relationship with the captain, and his “Big Brother” role deals with his relationship with the rest of the regulars. The fact that Doc is a bit older than Julie, Isaac, and Gopher means that even though he, like the rest of them, is under the supervision of the captain, he has a slight position of seniority over the other three. He balances the by-turns mischievous and responsible aspects of an older brother figure—he’ll tease Julie about her latest infatuation, and set up elaborate pranks to mess with Gopher, yet whenever Gopher and Isaac get swept up in some not-well-thought-out scheme, he’s the level-headed one who tries to point out that they’ve gotten carried away—or sometimes refuses to get involved altogether. William Riker is, of course, first officer of the Enterprise, and therefore has the same seniority-among-underlings position (in a more official chain of command capacity than Doc does). His big-brother-ness manifests as the poker-playing, jazz-loving guy who will do things like give Worf’s son music recordings that he knows Worf will hate one day but get actively upset and almost personally offended at the idea of Data getting hurt the next.

Not necessarily related to the “Big Brother” role, but another little parallel between Doc and Riker that I would like to point out—they are each the designated ladies’ man of their ships, yet both are able to completely switch to focusing solely on their job responsibilities the moment it is called for. (Honestly, Doc always struck me as going beyond “ladies’ man” and skirting dangerously close to “creep” territory at times, but I did appreciate how he would always drop everything the instant there was any sort of medical issue on the Princess.)

The Two Buds

Star Trek TNG: Geordi La Forge and Data

The Love Boat: Isaac Washington and Burl “Gopher” Smith

Although both the TNG and TLB crews form a group of close friends, The Two Buds are best friends. They are the two most likely people to hang out together in their down time, the two who understand each other the best, the two most sympathetic to each other’s problems and most likely to indulge the other long after everyone else would have put their foot down. When Gopher gets some conspiracy theory into his head about a passenger, Isaac will hear him out and sometimes even help him investigate. When Data wants to do some questionable experimentation on his positronic net, Geordi is there with a tricorder making sure the whole thing doesn’t go completely haywire. Data once said that he didn’t know what a friend was until he met Geordi, and Isaac once told Gopher that he (Gopher) is the only one Isaac would resign in solidarity for. All four men/androids have a tendency to get a little too wrapped up in their obsession of the week—see Isaac’s novel-writing attempts, Geordi’s holographic Leah Brahms, Gopher’s conspiracy theories, and about half of anything Data does.

Each pair also consists of one white guy and one Black guy. (Obviously, Data is an android and therefore is not technically any human race or ethnicity, but he’s played by a white guy and his artificial skin is paler than anyone else’s skin on the senior staff.) The white guy representatives, Gopher and Data, are almost polar opposites—Data is calm and logical, and Captain Picard trusts him implicitly, while Gopher is a goof who freaks out easily and who is often upset with the way Captain Stubing dismisses him (those dismissals are especially prominent in the first few seasons—Gopher does mellow out later on). But they do have some similarities, one of the most striking being that they both struggle with appropriate social behavior as well as their own emotions. This is more readily apparent with Data, of course, who is literally not human and is trying his best to understand the nuances of things like humor and love, constantly asking his friends to explain behaviors they take for granted. Gopher’s struggles are more understated—he has a tendency to make comments and observations that the rest of the crew find slightly tasteless, he goes into several anxious tailspins over the course of the show, and he at one point believes his emotional attachments to his friends compromise his ability to fulfill his job duties. Both Data and Gopher use their respective best friends—each of whom are the more level-headed of the pair—as a steadying force.

Now for the characteristics shared by those respective best friends. The Black guy’s job responsibilities root him in a specific place and often set him slightly apart from the main action. While Geordi can and does go up to the bridge on several occasions, as Chief of Engineering he spends most of his time hanging around the warp core, communicating with the bridge over the com system. Meanwhile, Isaac can be seen wandering hallways and so forth, but he spends most of his time behind the bar, whether that’s in the Acapulco Lounge, on the Lido Deck, or in Pirate’s Cove. The rest of the crew, despite having nominal work stations like the Enterprise bridge or the Pacific Princess purser’s lobby, are seen to roam more extensively. (I’m pretty sure we never see Julie’s office.) Isaac is busy serving drinks in pretty much every episode while Doc and Gopher are chatting and dancing with passengers on the dance floor of the Acapulco Lounge. The Black guy also gets the short end of the stick in the romance department. When you see a Black guest actor on the opening credits of The Love Boat, it’s a good bet that Isaac will be involved in their storyline. If it’s just one Black woman, there’s a 99% chance that Isaac will be involved in her story, and his involvement will be as her love interest. I remember one particularly glaring example of the show going to extreme lengths to avoid even hinting that Isaac could potentially do something vaguely romantic or sexual with a white woman—Julie’s hosting her high school reunion on the ship, and there are a few scenes where everyone is discoing in the Acapulco Lounge. Isaac gets out on the dance floor, and conveniently some random Black woman appears out of nowhere as his dance partner. This woman is not named or acknowledged at any other point in the episode. Over on the Enterprise, Geordi isn’t restricted along race lines like Isaac, but I find it highly suspicious that the one Black guy is the least successful in romance out of everyone on the senior staff. Geordi struggles to even start up a conversation with women he’s attracted to, let alone flirt with them. Data has a better romance track record than Geordi does, and Data usually ends up in a romantic entanglement by accident! It’s as if the show was afraid to let Geordi enjoy those kinds of relationships to the same degree as the rest of the crew, which is a different kind of restriction than Isaac’s, but still a restriction nonetheless.

The Chick

Star Trek TNG: Deanna Troi

The Love Boat: Julie McCoy

The standard lineup for both TNG and The Love Boat consisted two female main characters, thus allowing the ladies to gossip about “girly” things in keeping with gender stereotypes, but Vicki was a preteen/teenager and Beverly had a sort of matron vibe going on, which left Julie and Troi to be the respective sex appeal characters out of the main cast. The Chick has non-standard dress that sets her apart from the others and their status as officers. While Doc, Gopher, and Captain Stubing wore nautical stripes and white uniforms (and Isaac usually had a variation on this outfit, wearing a red or blue jacket), with very little in the way of costume changes whether they were greeting boarding passengers, chatting on the Lido deck, or dancing in the Acapulco Lounge, Julie had no stripes to speak of. She would wear a (feminine) uniform at boarding, switch to a casual outfit during the rest of the day, and was always wearing a gown of some sort in the evenings. Deanna Troi for her part cycled through purple jumpsuits and asymmetrical dresses, her Starfleet badge precariously pinned to her neckline. We didn’t even get to see the pips indicating her rank until she was finally given (in story, ordered into) a normal uniform in season six.

The Chick gets saddled with way too many romance plots, some creepier than others. Giving Troi something substantial to do in an episode usually consisted of making her the love interest of whoever happened to be boarding the Enterprise that week, like the ambassador with the telepathic interpreters or the quarter-Betazoid interplanetary negotiator. Deanna also got her mind invaded by a man who was interested in her, prematurely aged by a man who took advantage of her, and kidnapped by Ferengi (who have a disturbing species-wide infatuation with non-Ferengi women). I’m not as upset about Julie having several romance-related plots, as romance was the name of the game on The Love Boat and the men on the crew had their own share of romantic entanglements—but I do find issue with the fact that when Julie was in love she always seemed on the verge of getting married and leaving the ship, which was a vibe we didn’t really get from, say, Doc or Gopher when their love lives turned particularly intense. In terms of creepiness, Julie had to deal with fending off the extremely aggressive advances of Captain Stubing’s uncle, a computer programmer who rigged his dating algorithm to ensure he matched with her, and a college acquaintance of Gopher who actually came to her door to badger her as she was getting dressed.

The Kid

Star Trek TNG: Wesley Crusher

The Love Boat: Vicki Stubing

For some reason, both of these shows thought it necessary to have a preteen/teenager in the cast whose character has way more responsibility than is realistic for either a cruise ship or a pseudomilitary starship. Instead of Vicki wearing a uniform and checking in guests on the Pacific Princess, we really should have seen Julie’s or Gopher’s staff fulfilling check-in duty (Doc and Isaac were also too often seen checking in passengers, which I will say again is a duty that on a real cruise ship would definitely not fall to either the ship’s doctor or chief bartender, but we’re talking about Vicki at the moment). Wesley, meanwhile, was made Acting Ensign on the Enterprise, saving the ship way more than he should have and probably earning the ire of all the official ensigns who actually went to Starfleet Academy and were losing precious time at the conn due to Picard’s favoritism.

Speaking of Picard, The Captain has a paternal relationship with The Kid—literally in Vicki Stubing’s case, emotionally in Wesley Crusher’s. He is very concerned with imbuing The Kid with strong morals, and has a vested interest in The Kid’s upbringing and making sure The Kid has a bright future. Meanwhile, the rest of the main crew are like an assortment of aunts and uncles, being the cool, approachable sources of advice when The Captain’s not around. In fact, The Kid hardly seems to have any friends their own age. Instead, they hang out with the adult crew members and get involved in their social drama, which may or may not have always been appropriate.

Isn’t there someone you forgot?

The TNG fans among you may now be thinking to yourselves, “What about Worf?” Alas, there seems to be no satisfactory Worf counterpart on The Love Boat. After all, there isn’t really any need for a tactical officer on a cruise ship, so a warrior-type personality is not represented on the Pacific Princess crew. Other Worf characteristics would be that of an outsider, or one who is occasionally not sure if they truly belong on the ship, but everyone on the Princess seems pretty happy to be there. I guess in a pinch I could say Ace, the late-addition ship’s photographer, might serve as Worf’s counterpart, but other than the fact that Ace’s family is rich and it is established that he doesn’t really need a job on the ship to get by, I’m not sure there’s much of an “outsider” status brought to the table here. I also haven’t watched enough Ace episodes to have a really good read on his character.

Thus ends my Love Boat/TNG comparison! It was nice to finally get this analysis out of my head and onto the page.

#the love boat #star trek #tng #comparison

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lemongogo · 4 years

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Hi, so I was wondering what u think this chapter is supposed to mean for hawks character? Is this him reluctantly following orders or is he seriously questioning what side he is on? Twice is obviously not gonna change, and I don’t think hawks understands how much his betrayal hurt twice. Twice devotes all of himself to his comrades happiness. He wouldn’t leave them. What was your opinion on hawks offering to help twice and not wanting to fight him? And twice’s reaction to it

(tl;dr at the bottom)

hey ! so i think a lot of hawks’ character is still shrouded in mystery given that we still don’t know much about him as an individual, as much as we are familiar with Hawks, his hero persona. but with that being said, I think this chapter was pretty clear in showing that there’s a part of hawks that realizes the current system is flawed, even if he isn’t currently planning to abandon the hpsc as some of us (such as myself) would like to see in the future

i think before the chapter released, there were two main paths that his story couldve taken.

in one situation, he could’ve incapacitated twice and taken him out of battle immediately. aka, no talking, no trying to explain himself, just wrap up the job he was given to do. this scenario would suggest that there is no capacity for hawks to change or evolve away from the hpsc. this outcome would mean that , for the rest of the story, he would most likely remain heavily tied to this idea that heroics hold a moral superiority over the villains. that sympathy shouldnt be spared for people like twice because they are “bad”. (aka, feed into this binary of good vs bad)

in the other situation, hawks would hesitate or try to reason with twice, and show that there’s some sort of internal conflict that he’s dealing with. this outcome, unlike with the first scenario, would insinuate that hawks’ story will, at some point, deviate from the path the hpsc intends for him to take. that he will, to some degree, question the institution he works in / contributes to. aka: is what he doing the right thing to do (emphasis on morally grey characters / situations unlike the black/white perspective of situation 1)

chapter 264 shows us that second situation: hawks, despite having the upper hand (cornering twice with all of his feathers drawn), does not immediately “finish the job”. he tries to reason with twice by saying that he can “rebuild” his life and start over. “atone for his crimes” and so on so forth. in my opinion, this is a really good step in hawks leaving the cage the hero commission forced him in at such a young age. i mean, as other people have already stated earlier, this isn’t something he will be able to overcome quickly or easily at all. but, it shows that he’s starting to make some decisions for himself. the hero commission does not seem like they would care for the rehabilitation of the criminals. it doesnt seem like they really care for how these people “feel” and would rather smush the rebellion if it meant upholding the current standard of society

the cool thing here is that we see the conflict between hawks and the commission in a very visual manner. scenes where hawks looks menacing are the scenes where he’s speaking with a sense of authority imposed by the hpsc and his status as the #2. this is where we see him talk about the logistics of his mission, and these lines are accompanied by an obscured, shadowed face. emotion is removed from the equation. he is cold and calculating. unforgiving.

compare it to when he starts to give twice a “chance”. we see his face and his emotions clear as day. from this point forward, we’re seeing what keigo wants to say, and what keigo wants to see from twice. his face is revealed when he says “because you are a good person”; he places faith in twice even when the commission couldnt (wont).

he sees twice’s tears. he sees twice break down and it all ties back to the notion that , in my opinion, hawks WAS connected to jin, even though he might frame it as part of his mission. yes, he got “close” to twice because he had to. and yes he used / manipulated twice. we can’t deny that. but he also tells twice that he recognizes the good in him and, through his internal monologue in the end, we know !! that keigo did care for him to an extent. what twice said to him back at the end, the thing about friends caring about each other and wanting to help hawks out of the “cage” he was “stuck in” resonated with him!! and thats why he offered his help in getting twice “back on his feet”

to me, i feel like he does understand how much this betrayal hurt twice. i think he tries to put on a facade and act like it doesnt affect him bc its his job (as in . he’s not supposed to get attached) but then you see THIS panel at the end

and its obvious he’s upset and reflecting on the idea that what he’s doing and how he’s using people isnt okay and that, yeah, jin has a point . somewhere along the way, heroics lost sight of what it meant to help people

idk. its a lot to process. maybe im reading this all wrong, but to Me i feel as though this is a sign that hawks isnt as tied to the commission as he originally was. because although he’s still doing his job as he’s supposed to, he’s also grieving? in his own way? recognizing the harm he’s caused twice and understanding that this is just a really shitty situation. like others have mentioned, i don’t think we could’ve expected this big “switch” in hawks right away but this is the perfect step in the right direction imo

to answer your question, i don’t think he’s questioning his position just yet but . he does seem to be emotionally distressed and perhaps critical of himself for what he has to do. @miriio describes this better than i can:

“if anything i think i’d be bad writing for hawks to join the league this quickly. we clearly see hawks struggling with his options and he genuinely seems to feel bad about what he’s doing….but what he’s doing is what he’s been trained to believe is right. if hawks really wanted to i’m sure he could’ve killed twice instantly. but he didn’t because he doesn’t want to. he even said he would help twice after because he knows he’s a good person. it’s clear hawks doesn’t wanna do any of this but as far as he’s concerned it’s his only option”

im really bad at explaining how i feel abt this but @miriio and @spinneraki both make ! really good points on what this means for him as a character too if u want to check out those discussions :-)

tl;dr this chapter shows hawks has the capacity to change, given his choice to “talk it out” with twice and his later reflection on how the “bad ones are always us hero scum”.

#long post #bnha spoilers #bnha 264 #bnha #hawks #twice #when i write long posts like this i feel like i dont make sense #or somehow contradict myself #so hopefully this kinda answers ur question #durbinfan13 #asktag

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mycreativereach · 3 years

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The Birth of Oron

Colossus’ raw power, wolverines’ adamantine claws, Captain America's unbreakable shield, the powers of the Greek gods, and the hierarchy of the archangels. These are but a few to name of the heroes I would watch growing up.

I was always a fanboy for superheroes, especially marvel. I had my time with DC, but I was always more drawn to the stories of the X-men or other superheroes within the realm of the marvel universe. Other means of fantasy such as Lord of The Rings and anime such as one-punch man and Dragonball Z played a part as well, but it was a few that stemmed from my childhood that allowed me to develop Oron the character you read today.

Colossus

To say that fantasy and heroes have had a slight impact on my novel is an understatement. I remember getting up early Saturday mornings, roughly around 8 am, to catch a list of cartoon shows that would appear on Fox. Over a few years, the shows had moved around and switched but I always remember waiting to watch the 90’s nostalgic marvel show x-men. The always progressive stories of wolverine’s trust issues and macho feud with cyclops, gambit’s Casanova chivalrous tendencies towards rogue, and Professor X’s forever dilemma of accepting the very humans who hate him while teaching mutants to be at peace with civilization was what I loved about the show. I couldn’t wait to rush to the carpet in front of my tv and sit for two half-hour episodes. At the time wolverine had been my favorite mutant and marvel character for that matter and still is. But the character that helped shape Oron was colossus. I remember seeing him for the first time, his mutant power of being able to enwrap himself in metal which tremendously increased his raw strength and power reeled me in. His character traits of being a humble Russian farmer with roots of loyalty and fighting for good is also what attached me to him even further. From that point on until this very day, colossus is still one of my top favorite marvel characters and has also helped pave the way for me to creating my character Oron. I knew I wanted Orons characteristics to be someone who came across as hard and cold on the outside because of the lore I had built around him, but I wasn’t exactly sure how I wanted him to look. Eventually between coming across colossus combined with my love for bodybuilding and the aesthetics that bodybuilders bring is ultimately the reason why I created Oron to have more of a menacing appeal to my readers. But as for the color of Orons skin, it’s funny that Oron turned to be blue. I have gotten feedback both negative and even some positive saying Dr. Manhattan has played a role in this decision I made. They are similar in some respects but in all honesty, it had nothing to do with that character. The sole reason is that I like the color blue and decided to go with a lighter or sky blue. Navy blue is my favorite to be exact, but I Liked a light shade of blue that looked on Oron and then decided to keep it. I had gone through several other stages of Oron with different colors and patterns and other anatomical appearances, but I felt none of them looked well enough as the color that he ultimately ended up with.

Sarevok

Another character that played a role in the creation of Oron was the main antagonist of the well-known RPG-pc game from the 1990s Sarevok Anchev from Baldur’s Gate. Still one of my favorite villains ever, Sarevok had the menacing appeal of height, increased strength, and malice that caused him to be feared. But it was his assured intelligence and allured determination that made me enjoy his character. Although I like the version of Sarevok from Baldur’s gate, it is the expansion to Shadows of Amn in Throne of Bhaal that was the version that piqued my interest for Oron. Sarevok at this point comes forward to help his brother, the main protagonist in the entire storyline. The evil aura still emanated from Sarevok but as you play out the game, or read the books, you, in turn, find out that even though this once archrival of yours had been your most bitter enemy was nowhere to help you even with the ominous characteristics he still had. This helped give me an idea to develop Orons past as being one of sorrow and negativity while helping Aurelia and although being a stern teacher, Oron meant the best for Aurelia. There were certain differences between the characters but also some similarities as well in the ways of how they displayed their care for the person they trying to help and the determination and confidence they expressed through their cold hard demeanors with Orons being more serious and Sarevoks attitude animating more of a serious but sinister malevolence.

Marvels Cosmic Hierarchy

Getting older I started to really dive into the cosmic hierarchies of Marvel. The vast powers in the universe always intrigued me as to how powerful they could become and how different beings would clash against one another. Being limited to the capabilities we have as humans always made these stronger beings look much more appealing because I knew it was physically impossible to achieve their prominence of power. Characters like Galactus or the In-Betweener from the marvel cosmic hierarchy would always possess jaw-dropping crazy abilities and crash with other beings of good or evil in the universe. I wanted to adapt powers such as this into my storyline, but I wanted to also make sure the readers knew that no matter how powerful one could seem, everything in my universe can be defeated. We might look at Oron and think that he’s a God of some sort, an undefeatable being with extraordinary abilities. But the truth is Oron could be matched by other relevant powers as well. In Marvels Hierarchy, the order of power is laid out for you to see who is the strongest and weakest of that order, although it's subject to change at times since some beings get stronger and others weaker. But what I enjoy is that even though there is an order of strength of power that doesn’t mean someone of weaker status can’t defeat another being of higher ranking. Because there are so many factors that help accumulate the ranking status of powers you are never fully solidified in that position and can be destroyed. As Marvel fans would know, we saw this when master order and lord chaos put aside their differences and joined together to destroy the living tribunal who was considered the second to the one-above-all who is the strongest entity in the marvel universe. Another example was how the Knull, the divine leader of the symbiotes, such as the one called venom from Spider-Man appeared from the multi-verse and decapitated a celestial, who were known to be some of the strongest beings in the multi-verse at the time. As much as there are hierarchies sometimes there are powers that seem to have been forgotten or hidden away to avoid detection. And even though there is a list of hierarchical power such as the one Oron is a part of you maybe never be truly undefeatable with other powerful beings that roam the universe.

Greek Gods of Old

Another form of lore that helped shaped my character Oron was the tales of the Greek Gods from Mount Olympus. The many stories and fiery battles between themselves and also the titans intrigued me the most out of the many legends they were a part of. Their supremacy and dominance over Earth and its inhabitants were similar to what I wanted to implement in how Oron was perceived. Each Greek god had a role to play in part to help civilization keep structured. They each had an array of followers, some more than others, and had cities dedicated to their names. They were worshipped and in term bestowed their blessings upon the strongest of their followers and warriors. But Out of all the gods I always gravitated towards Poseidon and Hercules the most. Poseidon’s because of the wisdom yet commanding presence the god held and Hercules because of the demi-gods valiant heart and brute strength. So, you can say these didn’t exactly correctly tie with Oron but there are similar traits from these characters and the motions of the Greek Gods that inspired some of the character traits in Oron. Although Oron is a hard-pressed individual he still flows with wisdom from the amount of experience he has gained from his years of life as Poseidon expressed through his many gatherings with other Gods and mainly Zeus. Oron’s strength seems to be unmatched and comes off as an omnipotent figure, similar to Hercules, to the people of Earth. As you read along in the novel you come to see Orons shortcomings and also weaknesses which were important for me to show. But whatever Greek God it was, even though they were far beyond mortals, they could have weaknesses emotionally and physically. You could be strong-willed and mentally equipped but even the Gods can be shaken just like when they had to battle the titans for their freedom.

Christian Biblical Hierarchy and its Powers

Growing up I was brought into a family with moderate practice of the Catholic Christian religion. Every Sunday for several years we would go to church and celebrate the name of God like a lot of other Christian families and live our lives as close to those religious morals. Needless to say, as I got older I drifted farther away from the specific ideological catholic beliefs when it came to how we were created. I still did and currently have a belief that there is some sort of greater being in the universe, but I have concluded that I have no idea what it is. For all I know it could be some greater intelligence that has no shape or form. It could be some superior alien race that decided to use humans as a test subject for their own means of biological experimentation. Or maybe we collided with other forms of substances and we weren’t the direct creation from any being at all, just a number of substances colliding together which then took billions of years to create our bacterial organisms that finally evolved into what we are today. Personally, I don’t believe in the latter of the possibilities, I think there is some sort of greater being or spirit, intelligence, or energy, whatever you want to call it, but have no idea what it is. But as I started to sway away from Catholicism the stories of the archangels and powers within the bible didn’t leave my mind so easily. Reading upon how God created the Earth and then the archangels and other stories such as Able and Kane piqued my interest. This was the foundation for the background lore of Illithesium and also my wanting to add Oron to a hierarchy of characters that belonged to the Christian religion but with my own twist. God's love with the strength of Michael and Lucifer's fallen grace would play a role in Illithesium and Oron but differently from how the bible displays it. Oron and these characters were beings of great power, yes, but they could be destroyed and were not immortal as we learned growing up in religion class. They had physical forms and could be spoken to although through a language far beyond our capabilities. Their legendary powers displayed in the bible also are showcased but in a way that it could be explained and understood in a more somewhat scientific down-to-earth method. Adding Oron to the lore of characters that I grew up reading about and knowing with adding many different featured twists was creatively fun. And the lore thickens as I’m currently writing the second book which you’ll get to see hopefully sooner rather than later.

My Love for Bodybuilding

As I mentioned up above, bodybuilding has been a part of my life since I was 18 and has allowed me to view life in a specific way. If you want results, then you need to go out and earn them by taking necessary calculated actions in order to have success. By doing this over years I build a physique I had once admired and still admire, for myself through hard work and dedication. Involving myself in bodybuilding and reading upon bodybuilders and strength lifters is what really caused me to adopt a specific look to my character Oron. Now not all my characters look as big as Oron as I want physiological diversity in my novels, but the results one can get from weightlifting and the many ways you can build your body are shown through all my characters. But the reason why I chose Oron to not only be tall and broad but heavily muscular was to give an idea of what a superior being far beyond human capabilities can look like at physical peak performance. But an even bigger and more lasting impression I wanted to leave on my readers was that even the mightiest and biggest beings have demons they have nestled inside them. The strongest of us also have skeletons in their closet they’d like to forget that always come back to eventually haunt us. It was to show that it's normal to have to face your fears and to overcome them. It was a combination of respecting the hard work and ethic that goes into building a body as bodybuilders do, whether they be natural or not, and the strength that has to be applied to overcome the adversity of everyday life obstacles, injuries, and more. And to know that a being that may be tall and strong with power none the likes have seen before can still be shattered as nothing in the universe was made to be perfect and will eventually break under certain pressure.

Last Thoughts

Oron became a staple in the Illithesium novel and to find out more you’d of course have to read up on the book to see what happens. I hope you enjoyed the character of Oron as much as I did create him and giving him life while watching him grow throughout the novel.

If you liked what you read here or have any questions, comment below or send me an email and I’d be happy to chat with you!

#adam zomparelli #oron #illithesium #illithesium: the awakening

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semblanche · 4 years

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( ask to be added/removed from tag list. )

And, wreathed in its walls of stone, Juste Ve towered, a spectacle for all to see, whether they wanted to or not.

— REQUIEM

( worldbuilding 2/3? )

name — the juste ve empire

status — empire. their capital city shares the same name

language — veran

religion — the lady of the veil. known proselytizers

—

LOCATIONS —

While the Empire itself has taken to spanning much of the country, its same-named capital Juste Ve remains in the heart of the nation, encased in towering stone walls in case of an attack.

Think of a large, medieval-like city holed away in the middle of forests and bustling fields.

RELATIONS —

As an Empire, Juste Ve is... not on the best terms with the cities surrounding it. It crushes unrest under the heel of its boot with a little more force than necessary (it is kind of new to this whole conquering thing) and rules its captured cities with an almost petulant iron fist.

In terms of small neighboring tribes or other native people, Juste Ve tends to turn a blind eye, seeing them more as something to be pitied and disliked than an actual threat. They might even strike a wary trade of sorts (see: The Hunt.) They're not above killing, using, or proselytising them too though if they detect use of magic.

Now that it's more or less securely taken over its neighboring cities, Juste Ve is eager to press on, crossing the ocean to take control of its primary source of trade, the country of Sabel - having little seafaring experience itself, Sabel would be an excellent addition to their fleet.

It is currently locked in battle with Sabel over its small island of Calypse - a stepping stone to the main bay.

CUSTOMS/BELIEFS —

Juste Ve believes in The Lady of the Veil, or 'The Lady', and many of its people long to spread her worship. The Lady was a figure of legends who was said to have died due to magical means - which, in turn, Juste Ve has taken to hating; actively killing or using those who practice it.

Juste Ve is on the newer side as far as empires go, only recently having started to expand past its walls and sink its talons into neighboring cities. As such, its policies can almost come across as childish in their own cruelty, obsessive and fearful in case they misstep and let something 'slip through the cracks.'

(Ironic, when you consider all the tribes and people that practice magic on the downlow that they're too busy scorning to notice.)

As a people, they classify themselves into a traditional hierarchy, with nobles at the top and servants at the bottom in varying degrees. Soldiers also aren't treated very well, but again, it depends on rank.

MILITARY —

Many orphans, children of criminals, etc, are taken when young and reared as soldiers.

If they don't seem cut out for it, they may be reassigned from the 'fighting' to the 'patrolling' faction - that is, they won't fight in the wars, but will rather stay and watch over the Empire in the other's absence. These soldiers are (a little mockingly) called hearthwarmers, and are looked down on to a much greater extent than their warrior counterparts.

Soldiers are also 'marked' as the Empire's by having a thin ribbon tied around their throats at all times. This helps connect back to the Lady of the Veil (it represents a part of the veil being with them, shielding and welcoming them into death) as well as easily reminding them of their place to the Empire.

ADDITIONAL —

Their emblem is a dragon thrashing with its jaws bound in silk. There are three swords in its back - two red, and one white in the center. Though it's meant to serve as a message to enemies, many said enemies tend to mock it instead, saying it actually represents the Empire itself.

Although 'The Empire' and 'Juste Ve' have become synonyms, people usually differentiate between them by calling the whole expanse 'The Empire' and just the capital 'Juste Ve.' Alternatively, the full title is 'The Juste Ve Empire.'

Veran is a very easy language to learn, but superfluous on the tongue - lots of l's, v's and r's.

Up until a few years ago, Juste Ve didn't have such a hard stance against magic. The new head of The Lady's church (who took over after the previous one died) really spear headed it, emphasizing its 'abnormality' and the role it played in the Lady's death, and pushing their followers against it. So tldr- this is a new thing. As it is, many people are still fighting the transition.

The wall around Juste Ve was built right before they first sent their armies out to war - it's the only one of the cities to have one. Nothing wrong with some safety precautions if rebellion wins out.

Soldiers refer to their superiors as 'my honor.' As in, 'it is my honor to be serving you.' As in, 'i look at you for how my moral code should be, because you define my honor.'

Messengers from one city to another are highly, highly valued, and are to be protected with a soldier's life when delivering a message.

#writeblr #high fantasy #original writing #writers on tumblr #worldbuilding #requiem #she writes #didnt worldbuild as much on these guys bc uhh they suck and i hate them #but tada! hansens home #and to an extent khee's

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years

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Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8, pt 9

- Chapter 10 -

Everyone did believe that Meng Yao had been robbed in love. It even got to the point that Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen – both somehow taken by surprise by it, he had no idea how, given that it was so obviously the result he was aiming for – spent a great deal of time behind doors trying to make sure Meng Yao didn’t feel bad about it, which was very nice, if unnecessary, of them.

He assured them that he didn’t mind the gossip at all, but, well, if they were offering to spoil him…

More importantly, Wen Ruohan believed it, too, just as he’d hoped, and his belief that Meng Yao belonged to him was shored up to the point of being nigh-unbreakable, just as Meng Yao had intended. His comments on the subject, made in a small break during a Discussion Conference when Nie Mingjue was enduring a lecture from Lan Qiren, were sticky sweet and suffocating and revolting to the point that it tested even Meng Yao’s well-practiced façade.

Interestingly enough, Wen Ruohan didn’t seem to be jealous of the relationship, or even to mind its existence, as Meng Yao would have expected given his now years-long obsession. Unfortunately, he also didn’t stop his usual antics – which probably formed part of the basis for Lan Qiren’s lecture, come to think of it. He seemed to regard it as little more than a childish lark, a passing whim scarcely worth noticing; as if it didn’t matter what Nie Mingjue did because he knew, or thought he knew, how everything would end.

It was, Meng Yao reflected, the sort of thing that would drive a lesser man up the wall with rage.

Wen Ruohan did express a mild curiosity as to how far things between Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen had gone, but luckily was just barely self-aware enough not to ask the supposedly jilted Meng Yao to find out more details for him.

As a result, Meng Yao was able to nod along with his recruitment speech without having to swallow back too much bile.

“You’ve always been very kind to me, Sect Leader Wen,” he said, his voice as sincere as he could make it. “I find that I’m often overlooked, given my status, though of course Sect Leader Nie’s needs must come first…”

“That is not necessarily true,” Wen Ruohan hummed. “You are just as worthy as he, with as many needs; are you not human, too? Why should you be the one overlooked?”

“Qinghe Nie values strength of arms,” Meng Yao demurred. “And mine is – lacking. There can be no comparison.”

“It must be difficult to be somewhere where you don’t fit in,” Wen Ruohan said sympathetically, as if he had any notion of such a thing. “Especially when you know there are places where you would fit in much better, if only you had a chance.”

Meng Yao heaved a sigh. “I have long ago given up hope of – other places,” he said, dropping obvious hints with his body language that the hope was merely dashed, not gone. “One should be content with one’s place.”

“Never be content with anything,” Wen Ruohan told him, his own voice slightly more sincere than usual, and it might be the only honest thing the man had ever said to him. His own personal motto, no doubt. He dropped his hand on Meng Yao’s shoulder. “Perhaps you should make more time for yourself – there are some areas in Qishan where you could go night-hunting to earn some glory, and I think you would find the game there to your liking. Especially, oh, around the end of the month?”

Meng Yao allowed himself a small victorious smile, and let Wen Ruohan think that he had convinced him that he had wanted the recruitment all along – a perfect catch, after years of setting out lures.

“That sounds like an excellent suggestion,” he said, and even meant it. “My skills have grown rusty, staying in the office so much…though I only fear I do not know the way. You know that Sect Leader Nie does not trust me at the border.”

He did, of course, but what would be the point of sending him there? Meng Yao’s skill was in logistics and management; while that was useful in active battle it would be utterly wasted in patrolling their well-armed borders to help pep up morale. But it was easy enough to make it appear to be a slight.

“You are capable of doing anything you put your mind to,” Wen Ruohan said encouragingly. “But you are right in acknowledging limits, and should not fear to turn to – capable guidance, when you find difficulty in finding your own way.”

Meng Yao lowered his eyes, full of triumph – for real, this time. “I am honored that Sect Leader Wen is willing to instruct me.”

Wen Ruohan patted him on the shoulder again, then went off his own way. Meng Yao turned to do the same, and abruptly saw Lan Wangji standing in the distance, looking out a window at the sky; it gave him a start, wondering if the younger man had seen. Hopefully not, or at least he’d hopefully know to keep his mouth shut – Meng Yao would have to go feel him out later.

The work never ended, he thought to himself with a sigh, and returned to Nie Mingjue’s side before his sect leader broke something trying to keep his mouth shut while talking to Lan Xichen’s uncle about righteous conduct, a subject on which the Lan sect seemed to think they had the final say and on which Nie sect principles were wildly and fundamentally different.

(Lan Wangji seemed to act the same as always when Meng Yao talked to him later – which was to say, virtually expressionless except for whatever it was that Lan Xichen claimed he could read in his posture, and still hilariously distractable with news of Wei Wuxian, who he’d met for all of a few months during the lessons in the Cloud Recesses that Nie Huaisang had finally passed – and that was a relief. The less Meng Yao had to think about what he was doing when he wasn’t actively doing it, the better.)

Getting permission – and publicly – to go out night-hunting was easy enough, since Nie Mingjue actively enjoyed slaughtering evil beasts for the good of mankind and thought that everyone else did too; he only needed to casually mention that it had been a while since he’d had time to go out to stretch his legs and Nie Mingjue immediately suggested that he go out on a night-hunt.

Convincing him not to come along with was slightly more difficult, especially when he mentioned that he’d heard some whispers of a demonic presence near the border with Qishan – Wen Ruohan was certainly demonic enough, in Meng Yao’s opinion – but with his position it wasn’t difficult to juggle the paperwork schedule to ensure that there was far, far too much work for Nie Mingjue to accompany him.

Arranging that Lan Xichen come to visit shortly before he left was an extra perk that Meng Yao included for both of them – for himself, getting to spend a wonderful day in the presence of someone infinitely more relaxing than Nie Mingjue, and for Nie Mingjue, getting to spend time on paperwork with someone infinitely more sympathetic than Meng Yao, who truly enjoyed the process of comparing long lists of received goods with each other to see if something was missing.

He’d miss Lan Xichen’s departure due to his night-hunt, but that was good, too – him going off to an atypical night-hunt would be understood by the majority of the cultivation world as a huffy retreat to avoid having to see his former lover and his superior together, and no one would think twice about it.

Once it was all set up, it was only a matter of waiting.

Wen Ruohan was confident in him, Meng Yao knew, and rightfully so: if he’d really been the person he’d been displaying in his presence since childhood, Wen Ruohan’s tricks would have snared him without question. A fool with an endless pit in his heart, greedy for affection and too stupid to be able to realize that no amount of glory would satisfy that greed, cunning but having no heart to see the bigger picture…dumb enough to agree to go meet Wen Ruohan, but smart enough to demand a measure of trust before he did.

A measure of trust – like the guide he’d insisted on.

Like the identify of whoever it was that had been so-cleverly dropping off all those letters, over all those years. Whoever it was had to have a considerable position in the Unclean Realm since the time Lao Nie had been in charge, and corrupted by Wen Ruohan since way back then; someone who had the freedom of the interior parts of the fortress, someone trusted, with good enough martial arts to avoid being spotted even when Meng Yao was specifically looking to identify them.

He’d run some tests and confirmed to his satisfaction that it seemed to be the same person each time, so there was only one high-level spy he needed to be concerned about – there were others, of course, but Meng Yao knew about those, and what he knew he could manage.

Or, well, Nie Zonghui could manage, he supposed. Nie Zonghui was technically the one in charge of managing personnel, or at least he was whenever he wasn’t stuck on some type of body-guarding duty – while they hadn’t shared classes due to the age gap between them, Nie Zonghui being older, Meng Yao knew that they’d had all the same ones, preparing them for much the same role. Between the two of them as advisors, Nie Zonghui was better suited for fighting and advising on situations involving imminent death, and they'd generally divided the work accordingly, but he was more than competent enough at managing spies and Meng Yao had handed the job off to him with great satisfaction. It worked very well.

Well, as long as Nie Zonghui didn’t turn out to be the traitor, anyway.

Meng Yao sincerely hoped he wasn’t. Nie Zonghui’s hobby was learning saber forms, and he spent all his free time on it to the point that he made Nie Mingjue’s training schedule look reasonable – Nie Mingjue was still the more powerful of the two, but only because he had ridiculously high cultivation for someone his age.

(That high cultivation had made his position as sect leader secure and allowed him to earn a name and a title and respect throughout the cultivation world, but Meng Yao wasn’t the only one that worried about how Nie sect cultivators died of qi deviation once they got too powerful. But Nie Mingjue was fairly stable for the moment, despite his rapid advancement, and Lan Xichen had devoted himself to trying to find a way to keep it that way – Meng Yao thought he might allow himself some room to hope.)

It turned out that the traitor wasn’t Nie Zonghui.

It was Wu Bixian, one of the army commanders, which was not quite as bad but only slightly.

Wu Bixian was from a smaller sect very close to Qinghe, a part of the Nie clan by marriage to one of the closer cousins. He was a good warrior, a tolerable commander, and had once had the occasion to save Lao Nie’s life in their youth together – he had been in a position of trust for a long time. He was wealthy, in the way most members of the Nie sect were with the sect��s treasury at their back and night-hunts to their name (Nie Mingjue’s comment as a child that the money ran free and easy once you started night-hunting wasn’t wrong) and he had a good wife, a few children, a saber of his own, moderately strong cultivation that was slowly gaining in strength…He had never shown any interest in acquiring more power than he had, no lust for domination, nothing like that.

He seemed content.

He was one of the ones that made snide comments about Meng Yao’s mother and had initially tried to refuse to take Meng Yao’s orders, even the ones that came straight from Nie Mingjue, until Nie Mingjue had personally told him to cut it out or else accept a demotion in favor of someone who could follow orders, but given how early the letters had started landing on Meng Yao’s desk, his betrayal must have happened far earlier than that incident and could not be the inciting factor.

Meng Yao had no idea what sort of things had Wen Ruohan offered to turn him, but whatever it was, he hoped Wu Bixian had enjoyed it while it lasted because he was going to kill him.

“It is kind of Commander Wu to take time out of his day to assist me,” he murmured, lowering his eyes to hide his rage even as his voice remained sweet and gentle.

“Sect Leader Nie wanted to make sure you were safe,” Wu Bixian said, and for half a second there Meng Yao wondered if it had been some sort of terrible miscommunication because he could see Nie Mingjue doing that, but then Wu Bixian continued, “I thought it would be good for someone like you to have a proper guide to teach you.”

If he had used anything like that language around Nie Mingjue, he wouldn’t have been allowed to come help, and that meant that Wu Bixian was in fact the right contact.

“I will follow in your footsteps,” Meng Yao said, still playing cautious. He saw a smirk steal over the other man’s face, smug and arrogant, and they left without another word between them.

With Commander Wu with him, finding a place to cross the territory line into Qishan without being spotted was easy – and worrisome, of course – and it wasn’t long before they arrived at the forest glade where Wen Ruohan was waiting for them.

His retainers had already set up a place for them to take tea, with him sitting above and them below, and even his traveling chair resembled the throne to which Wen Ruohan believed himself to be entitled.

Before they left the woods, Wu Bixian elbowed Meng Yao in the side, hard. “None of the backtalk you sometimes give Sect Leader Nie,” he instructed. “You ought to count yourself as very lucky that Sect Leader Wen has come himself to meet with you – he puts a high priority on the affairs of Qinghe Nie.”

That meant that Wu Bixian thought himself better than Wen Ruohan’s other spies in other territories, which were probably only good enough to report to a Wen disciple, or maybe Wen Xu if they were especially prominent.

Arrogance was good. Meng Yao could use arrogance.

He knelt in front of Wen Ruohan, giving him the deference he longed for – he’d only ever knelt to Nie Mingjue once, when he’d sworn an oath to him as part of becoming an official disciple of the Nie sect, and it had been outrageously awkward for them both – and Wen Ruohan smiled.

“You made a wise choice,” he said. “Qinghe Nie will not remain standing and independent for much longer. Only those that realize the truth will have a chance to influence the future.”

“Sect Leader Wen’s strength is undeniable,” Meng Yao said, because his mother taught him how to say the words that men wanted to hear. His mother as she used to be, before Sisi came back into her life and made her happy – his mother, who now spent some time being mistress of Qinghe, some time traveling, some time merely visiting other places with Sisi at her side; his mother, who asked him if he was happy with Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen, who accepted his answer and sought to aid him as much as she could; his mother, who loved him, well if not always wisely. “I do not wish to be on a sinking boat when I could join the rising tide.”

There was a bit more of that, mostly mutual ego-stroking and puffery, but finally Wen Ruohan got to the point: “What is it that you want?”

“My rightful inheritance,” Meng Yao said, because it was the safest thing to ask for. He didn’t really care if Wen Ruohan got rid of Jin Guangshan, after all, and Nie Huaisang’s reports hadn’t been especially positive in regards to Jin Zixuan – Wen Ruohan would probably just disinherit him in favor of Meng Yao, and leave him alive to cause Meng Yao too many problems to have time to rebel. And it was much safer than asking for anything else. “The venerable Sect Leader Wen is above such petty matters as gossip, of course, but he undoubtedly already knows…my father…”

“The Jin sect is a pearl of great value,” Wen Ruohan said lazily. “Do you think your service can justify such a reward?”

“I am sure of it,” Meng Yao said, full of confidence.

“And there’s nothing else you want?”

Meng Yao hesitated, having not anticipated that question the way he had others, and Wen Ruohan laughed to see him. “I told you before not to be content,” he said with a smile Meng Yao did not trust. “You have chosen wisely to trust in the power of the sun, and in the heat of its rays, from the ashes of the old ways, too stiff in their rules to change, you will be rewarded with your heart’s desire.”

Meng Yao smiled. “I await your excellency’s benevolence with eagerness, to give me light where I have been blind.”

He bowed and took his leave, heading back to Qinghe with the heads of some fierce corpses to show as the results of his hunt – Wen Ruohan was thoughtful, in some ways – and left Wu Bixian behind to discuss further matters to which Meng Yao was still too new to hear: an excellent people management stratagem to whet Meng Yao’s jealousy of Wu Bixian’s position, while also assuaging any concerns Wu Bixian had regarding his primacy.

The second he was out of sight, he pulled Chiwen out of the qiankun pouch he’d tucked into his sleeve – sabers generally disliked small places like that, but Chiwen had always been extremely understanding of the indignities one had to suffer to achieve greatness – and threw him down, leaping on top of him and hurrying forward at break-neck speed, and even so he only just barely managed to catch Lan Wangji before he disappeared back into the woods.

(He hadn’t realized that Lan Wangji was suspicious at first, despite him having coming willingly to the Unclean Realm alongside Lan Xichen and being even less social than usual; it wasn’t until that very morning, when he’d murmured some denial about having plans for the day – and Lan Wangji always had plans for the day – that Meng Yao had realized that he might need to keep an eye out for a tail.)

Lan Wangji was stiff as a board, his hand already sliding to Bichen on his waist; Meng Yao ignored it.

“You need to go back to the Cloud Recesses,” he said. “As soon as possible.”

Lan Wangji paused. “Why?”

“Because Wen Ruohan is going to burn it down,” Meng Yao said flatly. “The Lan sect doesn’t have the ability to stop him, but if you go now, you can pack away your sect’s most valued treasures and hide them away somewhere safe before they do.”

“Why?” Lan Wangji asked again, still wary, only this time he meant why are you telling me this.

“Because you have to make sure Lan Xichen isn’t there,” Meng Yao said. “He’ll hate it and he’ll fight having to run away with every ounce of will he has, but he can’t be there – or else everything will be so much worse.”

“Sect Leader Wen told you?”

“He all but promised me Lan Xichen as a prize for my cooperation.” Lan Wangji flinched, and Meng Yao nodded grimly. “Make sure he has a safe place to go. The Nie sect will come to your aid, nominally, but the real purpose will be to make it seems as though the Wen sect has defeated two Great Sects in one blow – it will be devastating to the morale of the smaller sects, and convince many of them to just give in to Wen domination rather than fight back...listen, come up with whatever reason you have to in order to convince them, but don't explain where you learned of the information. You understand?”

Lan Wangji nodded slowly. “You plan to spy.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Meng Yao said, because he was far beyond planning at this point. But he knew, as Lan Wangji might not, that the elders of the Lan sect would never listen to Sect Leader Jin's bastard son or Sect Leader Nie's aide, so recently jilted in love - they weren't like Nie Mingjue or Lan Xichen, who would understand. “Listen, empty the Library Pavilion in advance, wait until they’ve started burning the other buildings, and then set fire to it yourself. If you defend it as if it’s full, maybe you can convince the Wen sect that they’ve done more damage than they really have.”

He shook his head – he’d been hoping to have more time, but the winds of war always came more swiftly than hoped. “Good luck, travel fast, and above all tell no one.”

#mdzs #meng yao #jin guangyao #wen ruohan #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #three gates

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