#The Family's Defensive Alliance

[sunderwight]

Moshang AU where Airplane transmigrates into a demon NPC from one of the fanservice clans he created, rather than into Shang Qinghua.

So basically, there was a point in time where a lot of PIDW chapters were just Luo Binghe running around propelled by political plots and rebellions from the demon kingdoms, and most of that actually just ended up being Luo Binghe collecting wives with cute animal ears and tails and various abilities that Airplane used all of once and then completely forgot about. They covered the usual bases of the sexy cat girls, sexy fox girls, sexy bunny girls, sexy bird girls with wings, etc, before moving into more, erm, niche animal hybrid demon territory.

Which is all a roundabout way of explaining Cute Hamster Boy Shang Qinghua in his faithful-to-canon clan of Hamster Demons, whose primary skills include cute squeaking noises and digging abilities.

In the process of making his braindead written-in-a-panic-at-3-am "world building" on this front actually function in a real version of the setting, there has got to be a way for the otherwise-unremarkable fanservice demon tribes to actually survive the incredibly hostile environment which Airplane otherwise described, though. Like yeah sure when you're writing a book you can just say in one breath that the demon realms are incredibly brutal and cutthroat, and then in the next that this tribe of bunny girls with no visible skills at self-defense has existed here for thousands of years, but if you actually tried to set that up in some kind of a simulation the bunny girls wouldn't last one year, let alone one thousand.

In that case of Airplane's hamster tribe, their digging skills are so supernaturally prodigious that they are able to construct massive underground fortifications in otherwise hostile terrain. But that still doesn't solve all of their problems, because they still need to acquire food, and for that they mostly do have to go up to the surface. Some of their weakness is mitigated by sheer numbers -- they have a lot of kids to offset the high mortality rate. However, to further increase the survival rates, the hamster demons also try and make contracts with some of the local liege lords or ruling clans whenever they expand into a new territory. In exchange for protection, they send some of their extraneous family members out as servants, to either cement alliances through marriage (that high fertility is helpful and was indeed the crux of Wife #whatever's acquisition in canon) or to work as diggers or even high-level architects.

As the like, twelfth son of the Hamster Demon chieftain, this is Airplane's fate. On the one hand he's highly positioned enough to get an education, and his plot knowledge helps a lot. On the other hand, he's not high enough in the hierarchy to be kept around, so it's either go work for some other clan or else risk his neck doing missions on the hostile and deadly surface. Neither seems great, but Airplane would rather try his luck as a sycophant than a warrior.

Luckily (or unluckily, depending on his mood when he thinks about it) when Airplane reaches sixteen years of age, it's around the same time that the Hamster clan's tunnels have expanded towards the Northern Desert. Airplane ends up being part of the "hiii~ pleasedon'tkillus let's be friends~" tribute to Mobei Jun's father.

Mobei Jun's father tosses him to Mobei Jun, so Airplane dutifully latches onto him in order to avoid being eaten by any of the other retainers. Airplane has been educated in various subterranean building skills and is under the impression that he's been given to MBJ in order to build him his own palace or something?

Everyone else assumes that the Hamster demon is a concubine.

Mobei Jun also thinks that's what he's been given, but he's too busy bristling in teenage offense at being given a concubine by his father to actually consider taking Airplane to bed. So when Airplane starts doing other things for him, he just sort of bemusedly lets it happen.

Gradually it becomes apparent that Airplane himself isn't interested in being a concubine. No. Clearly, this Hamster is gunning for future empress of the Northern Desert! How else would one explain all the lengths he's going to not only to win Mobei Jun's favor, but to secure his position and ensure his future rule? The system also wants Airplane to ensure the Abyss plot arc happens in the future, too, which means Airplane helps Mobei Jun win and instigate conflicts against the righteous cultivation sects too.

Obviously, Airplane wants power. Mobei Jun knows that if he gets an heir off of Airplane that will be that, the wily minx will use any children to secure his position, and MBJ is not convinced he could control himself well enough to prevent that sort of eventually. Airplane is fiendishly attractive, and he clearly knows it, and Mobei Jun is not sure if he wants to accept what increasingly seems to be the inevitable. He won't be a ladder for someone else's ambitions! But... as long as Airplane remains loyal to him, he will consider it. Even if Airplane never harbors any true affection for him, and simply considers him a means to an end. If, by the time he ascends the Hamster has not betrayed him or tried to elevate himself by flipping over this uncle's side, or seduced any of his other relatives or any of the highly-placed lords all salivating to steal MBJ's would-be empress, then Mobei Jun will grant his wish and make him the second most powerful demon in the North.

Airplane, meanwhile, just wants a snack and a nap. Maybe if he builds a secure enough fortress and amasses enough of an intelligence network and hoards a few advantages for himself, and figures out how to stop pissing off MBJ, he'll survive long enough to retire. Somehow.

[gallusrostromegalus]

Have you talked about the agriculture and infrastructure of AEIWAM? Cause in the show we see the people of Seireitei eating, but they’re dead, so that’s a lot of dead people to be feeding. Plus you’ve established the mail service so public services are available in a way.

What’s the food situation look like? Do we have entire districts of people farming? Are there laws about it? Who can be bribed with a very specific food?

Autism Voice: How much are you prepared to learn about this topic? Because there's 5,236 words under the cut. Godspeed.

So in canon, souls don't "need" to eat, but do so out of habit, and also the rukongai is largely a feudalistic economy, which is not how habits OR feudalism work.

Not to drastically oversimplify enormous fields of history, political theory and socioeconomic, but if you were ever wondering WHY someone would tolerate living in a feudal system, the answer largely is "Because it beat the fuck out of the previous system, 'constant and devastating warfare'."

How feudalism gets started is easy:

There's a very large amount of people with no effective unified government for whatever reason (humans just moved into the area/an empire collapsed/a volcano blew up the general everything, etc.), and a limited amount of arable land, and therefore, a limited amount of food.

There's always a few assholes, and those assholes immediately try to establish dominance over the good turf with violence. This is the "constant warfare" phase of the agrarian government cycle.

In response, everyone bands together with their families and immediate neighbors to create defenses against The Marauding Assholes.

If one village is particularly defensible, or one marauder is particularly good at defense-breaking, people start to move in with whoever they think will do a better job of helping them stay fed. eventually these groups get big enough to need some kind of organization, and the organization tends to default to transactional loyalty.

I swear to god this is about the food situation.

The Transaction is thus: In exchange for taxes and you occasionally being called in for military Service, your Lord keeps the Marauding assholes away and does the obnoxiously complicated work of governance that helps farming but is too time-consuming for any farmer to actually do. Sounds like a good deal, right?

Smart people will recognize several glaring omissions and problems with that deal, but that's not important right now. After decades of "constant and devastating warfare", this is a relatively sane and fair deal.

This transactional loyalty continues up the political food chain: The leaders of several villages along a river need to coordinate efforts along that river or whatever, so they pick One Guy to be The Lord of the River Districts, typically the most popular guy in the clique.

...Or the one with the most heavily armed peasants.

In exchange for coordinating all the traffic/trade/environmental conditions along the river and ensuring peace between all the river districts, The River Lord also gets paid taxes and can call on all the River Lords to turn up with the heavily armed peasants should trouble come knocking.

Eventually, the River Lord makes an alliance with the neighboring Plains Lord and Mountain Lord and the Beach Lord up the coast because warfare suuuuuucks, and the most popular member of that clique is crowned emperor.

After a generation or two of relative stability, people have forgotten what the previous period of warfare was like, and develop the unconscious bias that it's Always Been Like This/the horror stories of your elders are just superstition. See: people who don't vaccinate their children because THEY never met anyone with Polio.

So they start pushing their luck.

Get funny with the ownership laws and realize they can make EVERYONE a renter and get away with being a shitass landlord.

Justify being a shitass landlord by coming up with things like "The Divine Right Of Kings"

Someone figures out that if you make everyone pay taxes in a grain crop, you can get away with EVEN MORE shitholery because you can force the peasants to use the bulk of their time and space to grow a crop that they have a limited ability to process and eat themselves, and grow their actual sustenance on the margins, so you can keep them in line with the constant but unspoken threat of starvation.

So if the Rukongai is running on a rice-based feudal system (which it is, because Kan is a rice-based currency and there are Noble houses and Lords and Daimyo in canon), souls MUST need to eat or the lords would have all been beheaded for being assholes who can't govern a while ago without the threat of starvation.

See? It IS about the food situation.

SIKE

I need to talk about law enforcement and postal services in the modern Soul Society now.

So the thing is: Until Ichigo and his friends show up and Cause A Ruckus, The Gotei-13 didn't actually have the authority to arrest anybody besides other Shinigami, people actively trying to Kill Shinigmai, and Hollows (theoretically) in AEIWAM.

See, after the initial period of "Various Lords make friends with each other for fun and profit", some Lords got really, REALLY good at getting other lords to sign up for their Multi Level marketing Schemes, and got stupid rich and also regular stupid doing it. Five of them specifically. These five super-popular guys were the Five noble lords, and their families that everyone pledged loyalty to became The Great Noble Houses: Shihouin, Kuchiki, Ise, and Shiba. AND DEFINITELY NOBODY ELSE.

The fact that all four of these houses were involved in a peculiar incident that imbued them with terrible spiritual power and some really kicass magical artifacts sure helped too.

Theoretically, any of these Four guys could become Emperor, but nobody was willing to bow to anyone else and it rapidly turned into the tensest five-way Mexican standoff, with a shitload of proxy wars between the minor noble houses that served the Great ones.

Great.

We're back to "constant, if somewhat less devastating warfare" AND we have to pay rice taxes.

...so some peasants invent anarchist communalism.

Not communism, they don't have control of the state, but they DO have Lords that are too busy doing poetry and snorting drugs to do their jobs... or catch them doing things that aren't in their lord's best interests.

So one village elder quietly whispers to another about "Hey, let's agree to trade grain and other supplies to each other at a discount and ah... not tell His Lordship about it. We'll have to send messages to each other in secret tho."

So Some Fucking Peasant becomes The Messages Guy, hoofing it all over the Rukongai delivering messages and facilitating an entirely lordless agrarian economy.

It's Kind of a Big Deal.

It's Kind of a Big Deal because peasants who can communicate are peasants who can ORGANIZE, and when word comes down from the scullery maids and underpaid clerks in the noble houses that the minor houses of X and Y are about to go to war at the behest of their masters THE MOST PECULIAR THING HAPPENS-

Holy shit. Terrible plague outbreak in the lands of Lord X. Hundreds dead. No way any village has anybody to spare for the war. What, you want to look? You want to catch this too? That's what happened to the last guy who came to look and look at him now! Crow food :(

Meanwhile, Lord Y and his two jackass sons have suddenly fallen ill. Must be that Plague from District X. Oh no! They died! Now the only Heir left is his daughter Lady X Who Was Doing All The Work Anyway. How unfortunate :(

;D

and that's not even getting into the network of secret granaries, flash livestock auctions, refugee migration routes and fun new alliances with people like Bandit Gang That Is An Entire Calvalry But Better.

It gets to be such a big deal, there are TONS of message guys, and they organize and demand to be paid properly for all this running and not getting caught by the nobs.

And the first postal service is born.

And shit, now that they're organized, why not formalize some of these grain stores and livestock trades and does the cavalry want to help delivering these messages? Or how about all the Village Elders who are experts in various things write down how all that stuff is done so it can be shared? Maybe they should all have a chance to meet up and share wisdom in person...

Shigekuni Yamamoto is all of eleven years old when he hears the village elder who runs the orphanage float the idea. Much, much later, he'll recall that THAT was when the Central 46 began.

Gradually, the lordless network of elder advice and tax-free farm economy grows, and begins to develop internal structures of it's own, and slowly grows to rival the Noble Houses in power, the decentralization of the network making it difficult for the noble houses to even recognize as a player, let alone attack.

Sure, lone messengers are often captured by the armies of the noble houses, but the messages they carry make little sense- the peasants use an entirely different alphabet- and the messengers will bite their tongues off and drown in their own blood before speaking.

But the shape of this secret fifth house remains a mystery for a long time until it becomes An Fucking Problem for food-related reasons. Specifically:

Ever Since the noble houses came back with weird magic powers and fucked up artifacts, there's been more and more and MORE people who have their own fucked up magical powers who live bizarrely long lives and also there are these really fucked up creatures with skull-like masks and holes in their chest that FUCKING EAT PEOPLE??

Fortunately, if you've got one of these magical freaks in your village, they're GREAT at dealing with the hole-monsters or "Hollows"

Unfortunately, these guys need a TON of food.

I read a statistical analysis from a medieval European scholar who worked out that in an agrarian economy, if you want to have ONE full-time warrior, you need to have about 1000 people to support that guy in terms of services needed and the labor lost from them being a fighter. ...And these magical warriors have the appetites of three or four people.

So anyone born with Spiritual power in Soul society is a bit up shit creek.

While everyone experiences the threat of starvation but for them, it's a matter of days, not weeks. While their home village would love to keep them, they straight-up may not be able to produce enough food, even if he's a magical farmer most of the year.

The nearest noble house definitely has enough food. But they also know from the Magical Dudes in their own families just how hungry these guys are, AND how powerful they are and how badly a rival house would want them. So the Noble houses often default straight to conscription, threats of violence against the warrior's home and family, indentured servitude and straight-up curses to control any spiritually powerful people who appear in their districts before a Rival house can make them a decent offer. Or kidnap them.

Basically, unless you're actually a member of the family, the noble houses SUCK to work for. Magical warriors are treated like weapons or animals or worse, are forced to marry into the family.

What are you going to do though? Starve? Not a lot of other options.

...until the secret postal service starts.

Postal Service has Food. And decent wages and working conditions baked right into the way its run.

Sure, it's not easy work, but the magical warriors are the fastest and strongest out there, AND the people most equipped to handle suddenly running into a Noble Guard or a hollow.

Once the word gets out, the magical warriors are practically hammering down the post office doors for a job.

Bit of a rowdy lot, these guys. The Council of Elders realizes. Also, very noticable to the noble houses. it's going to becaome real clear what's going on real fast, and we don't have an army. Yet...

Enter Postmaster-General Shigekuni Yamamoto, who has been running this for the last 500 years and already built a Dojo to train carriers how to defend themselves. He's even a pretty heavy hitter of a magical warrior himself! We'll have him run the army. It's basically the same thing, right?

Yamamoto is made aware of his promotion when the news is first released up north where the council is holding it's meeting this year, and an adolescent Chojiro Sasakibe decides that a good way to apply to the Dojo is to Personally Deliver the News Himself.

At 1 AM

In Sensei's Bedroom. "...Are you all like this, or are you a special pain in the ass?" the man with the extremely impressive mustache and frightening glare croaks at the lad. "My ability to inflict discomfort on various backsides has been noted before, Sir!" Sasakibe reports cheerfully. "...But I'm not sure who you mean by 'you all'?" "You and every other maniac with an ounce of Reiryoku who's apparently headed here at speed?" Yamamoto glowers at the letter he's been handed. Chojiro frowns, looking off to the side and rubbing his chin, giving the question entirely too much serious thought. "Well-" the boy grimaces. "I'd say that compared to the population at large, I'm a statistically significant pain in the ass, but compared to just people with spiritual power, I'm only a minor nuisance." Yamamoto groans, laying back down and staring at the ceiling for a bit. "How old are you, boy?" "Fourteen sir!" Chojiro chirps. "Princess-Who-Understands-The-Heavens, he's fucking fourteen." Yamamoto groans, rubbing his face. "Well. You're my pain in the ass now. Make yourself useful and get me some breakfast."

Sasakibe has been faithfully following that order for the last 1200 years :)

Soon, the Lordless Council of Elders has themselves a sizeable, very powerful and extremely loyal army. In an act of extreme magnanimity, they extend an offer to each of the Four Noble Houses to bring an end to the feuding and create a government and laws for noble and peasant alike to follow and prosper under.

Every Single Noble House: 🗡️⚔️🔪FUCK. YOU. 🔪⚔️🗡️

Well, this was going to happen sooner or later, Yamamoto supposes, and readies for The Final War To End All Wars.

He was so full of hope and promise back then.

The Four Noble houses and Postal Army prepare their initial salvos but before anyone could strike, AN ABSOLUTE SHITWACK OF ARROWS rain down from the sky.

Knock Knock It's The Quincies.

Everyone scrambles against the invaders, but refuses to ally and soon the last hope of Spirit World is pinned on The Postmaster-General, the couple dozen surviving warriors of his Dojo, and Twelve Fucking Maniacs he hired off Death Row.

To ABSOLUTELY EVERYONE'S VAST SURPRISE, Yamamoto is Victorious. Well. Him and some weird monk guy who turned Yhwach into a bug, gave Yamamoto A Mandate From heaven re: The Hollows and Balance of Souls, and Dipped.

The tattered remains of the noble houses finally Unite, but Shigekuni Genryusai Yamamoto has three names now and is like unto a God. and the twelve shady bastards backing him up are no slouches either. ...Perhaps it's time to Negotiate.

And negotiations happen! - The Noble houses bring their not-insubstantial forces to the table, along with the fact they're the only people who have a System FOR collecting taxes, something a government really does need. - The Council of Elders brings it's vast organizational network, expertise in many practical subjects and Lifetimes of Wisdom, only accurate maps of the immediate spirit world. - The newly-named Court Guard brings it's Much more substantial force, it's Mandate from on high, and Yamamoto's scary mustache and even scarier wife.

Things are actually going pretty well. Yamamoto and the army are getting the civil protections they wanted, the elders are getting the fairer means of governement they wanted and the Noble houses are getting to still be Rich As Cream.

...then someone sneaks in to negotiations. Well, they were actually brought in, as part of the entourage of one of the Elders, who takes her advice very seriously. After all, she's the oldest being the elder knows- even older than whatever it was that made the nobles so powerful in the first place.

"Listen, I've worked with these slippery shits before. Make damn sure they can't betray you." she growls. "I know, Yamamoto-sama has laid a very clever trap for them-" the elder nods. "No, I mean Yamamoto." She growls, yellow eye narrowing as she tracks him and his wife as they meander around the gardens below the negotiation hall. "Not him specifically, but it was a betrayal by someone like him- someone gifted the power of heaven- who cursed me to be as I am." "...Oh." says the elder, realizing that if Yamamoto could strike down that monster that lead the Quincies, he could very easily turn his blade on the council too.

...And that's when the first cracks in the bond between Yamamoto and The Council appeared.

So it was declared thus:

The actual governing would be done by the Council of Elders, now called the Central 46.

The Noble houses would still be allowed to retain their lands and collect SOME taxes in exchange for clearly defined and legally binding responsibilities.

The Gotei-13 would be responsible for matters supernatural- People with strange powers, the balance of souls between worlds, hollows, etc. funded and housed by the Central 46.

Additionally, the four of the captain's positions in the Gotei-13 would be reserved for the scions of The Great Noble Houses, unless it somehow came to pass that there were no Scions left.

The former armies of the Noble Houses would become the Onmitsukudo*, who would do the actual enforcing of the central 46's laws and collecting of taxes in the Rukongai, as well as independently collecting information for the central 46.

The Central 46 would also cultivate and independent force of spiritually powerful souls to use the art of Kido for Civil Projects and assisting the Omnitsukido or Gotei-13 when necessary.

It's Peace, but it's a Very Uneasy Peace.

As it stands, the Gotei-13 is *a* military branch, and a force to be reckoned with should they decide to throw their weight around, but they are entirely legally beholden to the Central 46 and not allowed to enforce the law. In fact, the Central 46 and Onmitsukido are allowed to arrest and detain any shinigami they see as a threat, without notice, explanation or Trial. The Central 46 could even decide to stop funding the Gotei-13 altogether and leave them to starve if they chose.

That's why Yamamoto is so strict about direct orders from the Central 46, and why Shinigami aren't allowed into the government quarter of the city.

Is this an excessive amount of world-building? maybe Is it actually making the writing process easier because I actually know what the broader chains of causality already are so the plot flows more naturally? YES. More importantly, am I having fun? VERY MUCH YES.

...What the fuck was this about again?

Oh, right. Food.

So as you can see from the previous fucking doctoral thesis, the food situation is

INTENSELY POLITICAL

AND

EXTREMELY FRAUGHT

...but actually pretty stable!

The vast majority of flat-enough-to-use land in the Rukongai is dedicated to farming. The land mass of the districts gets larger as you get farther from Seireitei, and districts 40-75 are almost ENTIRELY agrarian, with substantial amounts of farming occurring in 20-40 and above 75.

The Primary crop is still rice, but that's been receding since Soul Society finally switched to a Fiat Currency in the 1800s.

Also since about then, a greater variety of crops from the living world have appeared, including: Tomatoes, Potatoes, Crummock, Salsify, Cantaloupe, Avocado, Jicama, Sunroot, Marijuana, Strawberries, Corn, Broccolini, blue berries, boysenberries, Chicory, Cranberries, asparagus, black berries, raspberries, black raspberries, red blackberries, Okra, Coca, lingon berries, elder berries, Rhubarb, gooseberries, salmonberries, bearberries, and so many fucking squash.

New livestock has appeared as well- Soul Society has had an almost unlimited supply of beef from the Chihuahuan Desert cattle trade, but recently there have been new arrivals from the living world- wool sheep, Dairy cattle, Llamas, Mini pigs, Micro Pigs, Guinea Pigs, Fallow Deer, and those fucked up damascus goats.

There is also a bunch of crops native to Soul Society like Hummage, Black yams, ratweed, Pinnerey, Tomangoes, Craic, Duck radish, Sisei, and So Many Fucking Beans. There is also, like Nano Pigs, Pico Pigs, Mega Pigs and the terrifying Giga Pig (actually a type of Cavy). There are also Meat Horses, wool donkeys, and riding cattle, as well as Fertile mules.

Are there Laws About It?

Bruh.

The Soul Society Department of Agriculture was the FIRST formal regulatory agency formed by the Central 46. Even before the IRS.

Soul Society Agricultural and Land-Use Law is so Complex and Arcane that Kaname invents* an entire Rice Farm Subsidy Fraud Case for that takes Momo over a DECADE to investigate in various archives (Aizen is allergic to paper dust), travel to distant districts of the Rukongai (He also gets sick on trains and gates are for emergency use only), and talk to a hell of a lot of lawyers about (Aizen hates talking to anyone who really understands contract law) specifically to keep her physically away from Aizen as much as possible. It even works! *Sort of. The Rice Subsidy Fraud is Very Very real, but difficult to investigate, so he was leaving her subconscious clues in the crossword to point her to more evidence.

Who can be bribed with Very Specific Food?

As a side-effect of shinigami appetites, very nearly everyone to at least some degree. Most have hard limits about what they will accept any kind of compensation for, but everyone can be at least inclined to consider your proposal with the right snacks.

Ukitake loves cookies. He won't break laws or promises or forgo prior engagements, but he will make little exceptions that will make everyone happier.

It's more effective to bribe Rukia with plushies instead of food.

---

Mayuri wants whole-roasted fish, especially the heads and eyeballs. Technically, Mayuri has no limits, but you're going to need to present him with something exceptional.

Nemu can be persuaded to do some truly startling things for a nice dessert. She's done felonies for a fruit parfait before.

You can't Bribe Urahara with food, but you can bribe him with edibles ;)

Akon has a chart posted on his office door what various favors cost in money, labor, cigarettes, beer and/or pirated media.

---

Zaraki doesn't have a specific food he likes, but is constantly craving calories. He's also very willing to eat all your food and then tell you to go fuck yourself. The most effective strategy is to share food while asking for nothing a few times and then ask for whatever you needed his help with outside of a food context. For better or worse, he's extremely trainable.

You can't Bribe Yachiru with what she's already stolen out of your pockets.

Ikkaku is sort of offended when people fail to attempt to bribe him, and VERY offended if they try to lowball him. What, do you think he's cheap? Will show up anywhere with a buffet tho.

Attempting to Bribe Yumichika is a great way to end up owing Yumichika for the rest of your life. He never fails to make it to Sasakibe's High Teas/Gay Bitching sessions and often takes the snacks home.

---

People try to bribe Rangiku with alcohol all the time, which is really annoying. She is Perfectly Capable of acquiring her own booze thank you! Also, they keep offering her shit like Aged Whiskey which tastes how burnt hair smells. What she REALLY wants is Neon orange "Cheez" or "Nacho Blasted" snacks from the Living World. She craves that Riboflavin.

Hitsugaya lets everyone believe he's a slut for watermelon so they don't offer him the thing he'd actually have to fight to not accept: Jerky.

---

Tousen will not be 'bribed' into doing anything and will get extremely offended if you imply that he might consider it. He will, however, go to remarkably extreme lengths to get his hands on persimmons without paying for them. Not theft, that's very unethical, but he holds a bizarre principle about never paying for that fruit so that means exploiting agricultural, fair use, zoning and Tree laws to find or plant persimmon trees that are Perfectly Legal for him to pick from.

Kensei is similarly stony about the idea of being 'bribed', and worse still has an utterly flavorless protien-based diet. Mashiro knows he's got a pathological craving for Oreos and exploits it regularly.

Shuuhei will not be bribed but he will be VERY grateful if you go fill up his water bottle for him. Dweeb.

Mashiro will sell her own granny for a corn chip because she likes snacks, loves shenanigans, and knows her granny can kick a man in half and could use the excitement.

---

Everyone *knows* Shunsui is a drinker, but the trick is that he's savoring some really, REALLY good stuff very slowly. You can't afford the shelf he's drinking from. He thought he was immune to food-based Bribery until Nanao was out of town one week and the rank-and-file Shinigami she left to mind him introduced him to the grand tradition of the post-spree Dirty Great Fry-Up. It was like waking up in heaven to his hungover ass, and now he's the one attempting to bribe his minder into making it again every time he wants to go on a bender because he refuses to wake up from one any other way again.

Nanao did not believe the minder when she told Nanao of the great power of The Dirty Great Fry-Up, but now that Shunsui limits his sprees to the availability of breakfast the following morning, Nanao is trying to figure out what kind of raise it's going to take to keep the fry cook on staff.

---

Sajin Komamura is a deeply honorable man who doesn't even like eating lunch out with a visitor lest it be misconstrued and because he's still self-concious about eating in front of others. Last spring though, someone put up flyers for Game Share tags, and Komamura met with them in private to negotiate terms and ended up putting almost half a month's salary towards at least two does, one wild sow, as many marmots as they can bag (they can keep the pelts), and the offal/feet of the other animals they bag on other tickets. Half of the following month's salary went towards an adequate chest freezer. It's worth it though. His diet had been suffering from lack of variety and some of the vitamins and other nutrients from parts humans don't eat and by December his coat is LUXURIOUS.

Tetsuzaemon won't do anything illegal but will do some remarkably stupid shit for a beer.

---

You don't even SAY the word 'bribe' in the sixth division. Byakuya will remember you forever if you bring him an extremely specific brand of seaweed snack though.

Renji will eat anything handed to him, which is a problem because he almost broke a tooth on a stapler he thought was going to be a sandwich. He's unbribable because his brain won't process anything you say to him while he's eating.

---

People kept bringing Aizen Chocolate when he was captain and he HATED it. It's not that he dislikes the food: it's that his Dead Twin Brother was an absolutely peerless confectioner and made chocolate that could make the angels weep. Not only are Aizen's standards ridiculously high, the food is a genuine trauma trigger for him.

Shinji loves him some Black Thunder Chocolate bars but is so goddamn bad at conversations that he will not grok what the FUCK someone is talking about when they try to bribe him. He'll think they're a bad conversationalist with good taste in candy.

Some god thought they were being real funny when they made Momo be born with an aversion to peaches and a deep fondness for Sour and bitter Flavors. Shinji did manage to remember her joking about that and bought her a jar of pickled lemons for her birthday as a joke, and was genuinely surprised when she was moved to tears.

You have to Bribe Hiyori to even get her to listen to your proposal for the thing you're actually trying to bribe her for. For Better or Worse, she trades in novel potato chip flavors.

---

Attempting to bribe Unohana with food is an absolute crapshoot, because what she'll accept is a complex internal metric of how serious the favor is, how much she likes you, and how much she likes the proferred snack. You might be able to get a perscription for something that's normally a band substance for some Senbei, you might lose your nose for even bringning Okra into her hosptial. Best not play that particular roulette.

Isane is impossible to bribe because she just agrees to stuff before you can bring out the payment. Sure, you got your surgery moved or your hands in some pretty heavy drugs, but you'll walk away with the feeling that, since you didn't actually pay her for this, you actually OWE her now, and you'd be right. You'd better believe she'll call in that favor whenever she needs it, because you're *friends*, aren't you? It also never occurs to anyone to offer her her favorite food: Apples.

Hanataro has accidentally taken bribes multiple times because he did not realize people were attempting to pay him. He thinks it's just basic manners to show up at someone else's home or office with snacks and also people are wildly misinformed about what he's legally allowed to do. What? they wanted me to BREAK A LAW? FOR KIT-KATS?? The boy loves him some kit-kats but not to the point of committing a FELONY, what the fuck???

---

Izuru once walked in on Gin swallowing a rat whole, turned around and tried desperately to pretend he hadn't actually seen that for a year, until he REALLY fucked up his scheduling conflicts and needed an extra week of paid time off to go to a friend's wedding and in a fit of panic, attatched a deceased rat suitable for serpentine consumption he purchased from a pet store. Gin was more than happy to give him the time off and hey, a little hazard pay so you can get something nice for the happy couple Unfortunately, this also condemned Izuru to having Gin lean out of his office at least every other month and holler "Hey Izuru? What's our Rat Guy's phone number?" loud enough to be heard by the entire Division.

Rose can be bribed with anything from a patisserie.

---

People keep givng Soi Fon honey which is honestly starting to feel like a microaggression at this point. What she REALLLY wants is a bucket of fried chicken.

You can't Bribe Omaeda with food, he's the one feeding YOU. Sit down and stop yapping, you're skin and bones!

---

Yamamoto does not accept bribes, at all, ever. He does accept all forms of SUPER MEGA SPICY FLAMING DEATH-REINCARNATION-AND-SECOND-FLAMING-DEATH TURBOFIRE HOT hot sauce.

Sasakibe has been assisitant headmaster of Shin'o academy since it was founded before the fall of Rome. no matter how delicious your offer or how clever your scheme, an adolescent dork already made a better version of it like 700 years ago. Pathetic. What Sasakibe REALLY wants is to be able serve high tea to an adoring crowd. Hope you like cucumber sandwiches.

Okay this is like 5.2K and it's 3AM I'm gonna end this and go to bed.

[divinesolas]

bubbling thoughts

summary: after your husband goes off without a word you are left to ponder your relationship with him and does he truly love for you when theres another he clearly cares for?

jacaerys velaryon x fem!non targ!reader

c.w: misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst? with a happy ending ofc, oblivious jace, jealous reader, baela and jace are close, nsfw, oral (fem), not proofread

a.n: surprise upload 😁

perm jace taglist ! (open) @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @earth4angels @itsemohours @valdezthg @cecestea

Four days. that's how long you had gone without seeing him. Like a wisp in the night he had been up and gone by the time you woke up. You had just thought he was busy, maybe he was out training by the water but when you heard the whispers of the council members curious as to where the heir had gone you began to worry. When you took your worries to his mother you assured you he was fine and baela had informed her he was off to the twins.

Baela. He did not inform you where he was going but he told baela? She watches the anger twist on your face and places a comforting hand on yours but can offer you no true words of assurance. You two have been married for two months now, his mother needed the alliance with your family led to you having a very quick marriage barely getting to speak to one another before the big day. Yet none of that seemed to matter as he was the most devoted and loving man you had ever met. You had thought you could never be happier but he did have his flaws of him. He was a bit temperamental, taking things a bit too seriously which you understood seeing his position but there was one you could hardly look past and it was more so your fault than his.

she’s his sister obviously he loves and cares for her but you cant help but feel sickly jealous when he seeks out her company or even so much as speaks about her. If it was anybody else you would have nothing to worry about but he is a Targaryen and you fear it might just be how they are and what they do. You were already on the edge when he could barely sit still during dinner one night cause she had missed it and when he did not return for far too long after going to search for her you did not miss the grin on his face.

You know it is platonic or more so you hope so. he does nothing but shower you will love but this has been nagging at the back of your head and you feel as though you have now snapped. Everyone had taken to avoiding you, you had not even seen baela and are thankful for it knowing you probably wrongfully snap at her. You walk around everywhere with a scowl on your face and you had taken to sleeping in a guest room unable to stomach being in his scent despite how much it keeps you up.

You miss him but you hate him. No you don’t hate him you merely wish for some sort of reassurance from him. anything. The night of the fourth day your eyes shoot open at the sounds of dragon wings flapping in the air and you sit up looking out the window in alarm before your felt your heart ache at the sight of familiar green wings. You flop down back into bed with a quiet huff not interested in going to see him at all closing your eyes and attempt to fall back asleep. He does not deserve to see you. But as you turn back and forth you look up at the ceiling in defeat. you hate how much this is bothering you. if only you just spoke to him it could all be fixed but you worried of what he’ll say. maybe he’ll call you crazy for even thinking such a thing or worse he’ll get defensive over baela and say you’re just jealous of her. it’ll be worse cause you are, you are so sickly jealous of how pretty she is, how head strong she is, un afraid to take risks and put herself in danger and you’re jealous of how close she is to Jacaerys.

You just need to clear your head. Maybe a walk by the beach would be good for you. Yet you find it hard to convince yourself as maybe you could run into him. You decide its worth the risk, if you run into him you could just run away? you had no real clue what you would do or what you would say to him but you just need to get out of this room out of this castle right now. The halls are terribly dark which is perfect for you and with your dark cloak on your back you swiftly make your way down the familiar halls in the hopes of not being seen.

Your dreams are swiftly crushed as you crash into someone as you turn the corner and your heart plummets as you see his face. “My love,” He grins, though you can see the hesitation clearly on his face he still holds your forearms lovingly, “I've missed you, i was looking for you everywhere.” His face plummets when you scoff lightly, turning your head to the ground so you don't have to see his pout. “you were the first person i wanted to see-” “i find that hard to believe.” Your words are sharp as you harshly cut him off and you can feel his grip around you tighten.

When he speaks next there's a sense of urgency and desperation that makes you want to crumble before him. “what happened? i heard you begun sleeping in one of the guest rooms if i have done something-“ “it is nothing now please let me go.” “i refuse to. i refuse to let you walk away from this tell me what has happened i will do anything to remedy it i swear it.”

you snap. “why don’t you go see baela I'm sure she is eager to see you as you are to her.” You rip yourself away from him as your words get weaker on your tongue and by the time you finish it comes out as a meek sound.

You decide the walk was an awful idea no longer interested in being anywhere near his presence you whip back around and make your way back to your room. you hear him call after you and his fast footsteps following quickly after you. “my love please you misunderstand i love you” you attempt to ignore him but his scent and his breathing rings in your ear as you try to act as though he is not there.

“please do not walk away let us speak.” “i do not wish to speak with you Jace please goodnight.” he stops the door from being shut and you have to quickly look away from the broken look on his face. “do not sleep in here please just come back to our room please.” he sounds like he’s on the edge of tears and you cant take it, you walk away from the door to go sit on the bed tossing your cloak somewhere in the room, “please just leave.” he doesn’t and you knew it wouldn’t. closing the door behind him as he swiftly makes his way towards where you sit on the bed.

you expect him to take place next to you but your eyes widen as he drops to his knees in front of you and grabs your hands that had been places in your lap clutching them closely to him. “i do not love baela like that i love baela as a sister.” “you are a Targaryen what comfort does that bring me.” you decide to finally look at him and see the strain on his face and the way his eyes clearly sting over with tears.

His hair is wet just like the rest of his clothes while his cheeks are redder than an apple. you cannot faulter despite how much you want to grip his cheeks and kiss his plush lips you remain firm and simple stare at him. “that is not want i mean, i love her but not like i love you. you are my stars and my moon, my sun and my sky, my life would not exist without you in it. everything i feel for baela is strictly familiar nothing like how i feel for you.” you feel yourself slipping further and further with every word he speaks and you crack at the soft kiss he places on your joined hands. “i was miserable without you these days.”

“then why did you not inform me of your leaving? you told her. i am your wife jacaerys.” you hate the way the tears slip down your face but you cant help it any further, simply aching for some comfort from him. he grabs your face as his own tears slip down his face. “i did not plan to tell anyone my love i swear im sorry im so sorry i simply ran into her on my way out it was unavoidable. i did not mean to make you feel like this and it pains me that ive made you feel like this im so sorry i will never forgive myself.”

You believe him. Your hands go to cup his face and he leans into your palms as you wipe the tears from his face. “i am the only woman you love?” “the only one for the rest of my life. i will love you until my last breath.” he watches as a small grin takes over and feels a small relief wash over him. “then prove it.”

his brows raise mischievously and a grin takes over his face and your eager look. “i will spend everyday proving it, but for now i shall start by making you scream” You barely have anytime to process before his head disappears under your night gown and begins to lick at your growing wetness covered by your underwear. “jace dont tease me.” you feel him lightly bite your inner thigh before he pushes aside the fabric and eagerly begins to lick at your walls with a moan. “fuck ive missed this so much.” That night you can barley count how many times he made you cum on his tongue but it was all worth it to him to see that blissful look on your face and the way you basically passed out after he had finally pulled away from you.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Erin Reed at Erin In The Morning:

On Tuesday, Democratic presidential nominee Kamala Harris announced that her pick for Vice President is Tim Walz, the governor of Minnesota. In recent years, as trans and queer people have come under attack from over a thousand proposed bills, Walz is expected to serve as a source of optimism for LGBTQ+ people. The governor’s long track record on LGBTQ+ rights positions him as a strong oppositional force against what has become a national attack on LGBTQ+ people, particularly transgender individuals.

“I am proud to announce that I've asked Tim Walz to be my running mate. As a governor, a coach, a teacher, and a veteran, he's delivered for working families like his. It's great to have him on the team. Now let’s get to work. Join us,” read Harris’ statement on Twitter. Walz has taken decisive action against attacks on transgender people in surrounding states, making Minnesota a refuge for those seeking care. In 2023, he signed an executive order protecting transgender people from out-of-state prosecution if they seek care within Minnesota’s borders. The executive order also issued a bulletin to health insurance companies, mandating coverage and initiating investigations into health insurance denials in the state.

In 2024, Walz signed a bill banning the gay and transgender panic defense. This defense is often used to help individuals avoid murder charges or receive lighter sentences by asserting that they were "deceived" by a romantic partner who was gay or transgender. According to one study, the transgender panic defense has been used at least 351 times. Walz's pro-LGBTQ+ record goes back much further than his time as governor. In 1999, he sponsored the first gay-straight alliance at his high school while working as a teacher. In Congress, he co-sponsored the repeal of the Defense of Marriage Act and voted to repeal Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell.

Minnesota Gov. Tim Walz (D)’s track record on LGBTQ+ issues has been stellar, dating back to his pre-Congress days.

This makes me glad that he is the nominee.

[unboundprompts]

do you have any tips for writing mermaids? i love your work ^-^

How to Write Mermaids

-> Things to Think About and Consider When Writing Merpeople and Mer Fiction

-> How to Write a Mermaid (anc writing resources)

These are just some suggestions! Feel free to pick and choose based on what best fits your story.

Physical Appearance

Tail Variations: Instead of a uniform tail type, consider different adaptations: sleek, dolphin-like tails for fast swimmers; large, strong tails with iridescent scales for deep-sea mermaids; or frilled, flowing fins like a lionfish for camouflage. Some might have tails resembling eels or sharks, giving them a menacing or streamlined look.

Scales and Coloration: In deep-sea areas, mermaids might have dark, bioluminescent scales with patterns that mimic the stars or the sea floor. Shallow-water mermaids might have brighter, coral-like colors to blend in.

Scars and Symbols: Scars from battles with sea creatures, markings from coral, or even bioluminescent tattoos could add depth.

Eyes Adapted to the Ocean: Mermaids’ eyes might be unusually large, with reflective layers to enhance night vision. They could have vertical pupils like a cat’s or even multiple layers of eyelids, including a transparent one to protect them from salt and silt.

Webbed Hands and Clawed Fingers: Webbed hands would enhance their swimming ability, and clawed fingers might be used for self-defense or hunting. Some might have retractable claws or spines to protect themselves from predators.

Culture

Language and Communication: Consider how sound works underwater; it travels faster and farther but differently. Maybe they use gestures, a sign language, or even musical calls to communicate. Their language might be melodic or full of trills and hums that are difficult for land creatures to understand.

Beliefs and Myths: Mermaids would likely have their own stories, rituals, and superstitions. Maybe they worship ocean gods, the moon, or view shipwrecks as holy places. They might believe in omens from ocean currents, the arrival of rare sea creatures, or changes in the tides.

Social Structure: Decide if they live in schools, pods, or solitary. A royal family, councils of elders, or a group of shamans could govern them. Do they form alliances or rivalries with other sea creatures or even human sailors?

Hierarchy and Elders: Older mermaids or those with powerful magical abilities may hold significant respect and authority. These elders could be responsible for rituals, storytelling, and maintaining the balance of magic within their community.

Seasonal Gatherings and Ceremonies: The ocean has its own rhythms—tides, moon phases, migrations—and mermaids might gather for ceremonies tied to these events. For instance, they could honor the arrival of certain fish schools or perform rituals under a full moon for strength and unity.

Jewelry and Artifacts: Mermaids might decorate themselves with jewelry made of shells, coral, pearls, and items retrieved from shipwrecks. Certain pieces may symbolize rank, magical prowess, or family lineage, with specific stones or materials believed to channel energy.

Tattooing and Body Art: Many mermaids may tattoo themselves with ink made from squid or octopus, using markings that indicate status, clan, or achievements. Bioluminescent tattoos or body paint could glow at night or during important rituals.

Magical Abilities

Special Senses: Consider heightened senses, like echolocation, the ability to detect changes in water temperature, or a heightened sense of smell for tracking prey or sensing danger. These would add to their unique oceanic identity and give them a slight advantage over surface dwellers.

Control over Water and Weather: Some mermaids can call storms, manipulate tides, or create currents. This might be a rare gift, often feared for its destructive potential. Using such magic could leave them physically or mentally drained.

Healing and Transformation: Certain mermaids could have powers to heal wounds or diseases with seawater, or transform sea creatures into protective spirits. However, each healing might weaken them temporarily or require offerings to the ocean in return.

Song and Illusion: Siren song is a classic power; mermaids could enchant, hypnotize, or create illusions through melody. Overuse might leave them voiceless or mentally scarred, with some even risking losing themselves to the song forever.

Shape-Shifting: For those able to take human form, transformation might come at a great personal cost. Perhaps they can only transform for a limited time, or their time on land drains their magic, forcing them to return to the water to recover.

Physical Depletion: Magic use might be physically taxing, aging a mermaid slightly or sapping their strength. Frequent magic use could make them appear older or leave permanent marks on their body, like scars or discolored scales.

Price of Blood or Offering: Magic might demand a price—whether in the form of a personal sacrifice or a blood offering to the ocean. For powerful spells, mermaids may even need to leave behind something they value, such as memories, emotions, or treasured artifacts.

Risk of Transformation: High-level magic could alter a mermaid’s physical form temporarily or permanently. They might grow extra fins, become partially transparent, or even lose their voice after certain spells.

Mental Toll and "Ocean Madness": Overuse of magic could lead to a condition known as "Ocean Madness," a state in which mermaids lose touch with reality, becoming isolated or forgetting their own identity. This is particularly feared among mermaids, as it might mean permanent exile or being lost to the ocean.

Forbidden or Dark Magic: Some magic forms might be considered taboo or forbidden due to their dangerous nature. Practicing dark magic, like curses or soul-binding, could bring severe consequences, both in physical tolls and social exile.

Character Motivation and Conflict

Relationship with Humans: Decide whether mermaids are fascinated by or wary of humans. Some might be drawn to them out of curiosity or romantic allure, while others might distrust them due to pollution, fishing, or old tales of betrayal. Their interactions with humans can reveal a lot about their personality and worldview.

Desire for Land or Home: Consider what might tempt a mermaid to leave their watery home. Do they long to experience human life, seek revenge for an oceanic wrong, or retrieve a lost artifact from a shipwreck? This longing could add depth to their character.

Struggles with Transformation: If your mermaids can shift between human and mermaid forms, consider how this affects their identity and relationships. Transformation could be painful, rare, or come at a high price, adding dramatic tension and giving their character arc extra weight.

Quest for Authority: In a hierarchical society, some mermaids might crave power or authority, seeking to rise through the ranks or challenge an elder. Such ambition could lead them to take risks, learn forbidden magic, or ally with powerful sea creatures.

Personal Pride or Legacy: Some mermaids might want to establish themselves as legends, known for feats of bravery or wisdom. This could involve dangerous quests to recover lost artifacts, hunt rare sea creatures, or explore dangerous parts of the ocean. Their pursuit of legacy might set them at odds with their peers, especially if it leads to recklessness.

Torn Between Worlds: A mermaid who can transform and walk on land might struggle with a dual identity. If spending time on land slowly diminishes their powers, they could grapple with the desire to stay connected to both worlds, fearing losing either part of themselves.

Conflict Between Duty and Desire: Many mermaids might feel a sense of duty to their family, tribe, or ocean gods, conflicting with their personal desires. They could be pressured to fulfill a prophecy, protect a magical artifact, or avoid contact with humans, even if it clashes with their true passions.

Past Mistakes or Betrayals: A mermaid who has broken societal rules—whether by consorting with humans, using dark magic, or violating clan boundaries—might feel guilt or face exile. Redemption could become a strong motivator, pushing them to right their wrongs, often at great risk or personal cost.

Haunted by Family Legacy: If a mermaid comes from a family of notorious outcasts, warriors, or traitors, they might struggle with the burden of redeeming their family’s name or rising above that legacy. This could lead them into difficult choices about loyalty and personal integrity.

Hunters and Captors: Humans might hunt mermaids for their scales, powers, or knowledge, forcing mermaids into hiding or guerrilla-like resistance. A character driven by a desire for vengeance against humans could lead to morally complex actions and choices.

[lillypad-monopoly]

Wild Life Episode 2 Thoughts

Grian's episode had me dying from laughter. 10/10 no notes. I wasn't expecting to enjoy Grian, Mumbo and Skizz together nearly as much as I do.

Ren and Martyn didn't have to go so hard with their relationship this episode but they did and it melted my heart.

Definitely watching Jimmy's episode when it comes out because I need to know the full context for the "He's with Tango" thing.

So Gem and Joel are canonically siblings now???

Joel immediately wanting to ally with Etho is all I ever wanted--and them being family I can't 🥰

Joel is singlehandedly doing better marketing for the Fast and Furious movies than anything else I've ever seen

I feel like I need to be keeping up with Bdubs's character development more; he went from being the supporter of equal partnerships in 3L to now saying that's never successful here and I couldn't tell you when or why that changed (bdubs watchers feel free to share)

Bdubs asking them to use the Golden Ratio when building oml

I think the Spanners/Sub-1-Club are the only ones who've lost the plot because pretty much everybody else is building defensive bases

Gem giving Etho a flower 🥺. I don't think she knows the history of giving flowers in the life series but that definitely meant things for the future of that alliance and I'm very excited to see where it goes especially in conjunction with Etho saying Gem and Joel are his family and the Tuff Guys aren't.

I think at this point every alliance except for Gem and Joel (and maybe Scar, Jimmy, and Lizzie idk) is a ticking time bomb for breaking apart and I kinda love that vibe.

BigB embracing the creaking and being strange in the background of everyone's episodes is so fun!

[wileys-russo]

Leah Williamson “I leave you alone for 5 minutes” park

left unsupervised II l.williamson

"don't run mia, walk!" you yelled in warning after your niece who sprinted off the moment leah helped her out of the car and her feet hit the ground. "did you ever walk at that age? you hardly sit still now love." your girlfriend teased, holding the door open for you.

"she was born with two left feet, i have fantastic coordination." you scoffed defensively, leah clearing her throat as you reached in and grabbed mia's backpack.

"chivalry isn't free babe, kiss please." the blonde puckered her lips as your own curled into a smile. "clingy." you teased, but rewarding her none the less with a gentle kiss as she beamed, practically skipping off after your niece.

"great, now i have to babysit two kids!" you sighed watching the defender scramble off into the playground after her four year old accomplice who'd been stuck to leah's side from the very first moment you'd introduced her to your entire family.

it was quite endearing really despite how much their alliance drove you up the wall at times, the pair having far too much fun ganging up on you. then when mia's mum, your eldest sister, was around it was an all out three on one mutiny that had you pulling your hair out at the best of times.

"leah! get her down!" you cupped your hands over your mouth, pointing toward mia who was squatted and readying herself to leap off the top of the jungle gym onto the sand below which was an easy six metre drop.

"nah she's got it!" your girlfriend dismissed with a flick of her hand, moving to stand beneath her with her arms open clearly ready to catch her as mia's face lit up.

"ready? one, two, three!" you winced and looked away as the girl leapt off and landed safely in leahs awaiting arms as you exhaled and shook your head, your phone starting to ring in your pocket.

leah now pushing mia on the swings as she let out an adorable string of giggles you stepped away to answer it, your sister asking if you were able to have mia for an extra few hours as she was caught up at work which you promised was more than fine.

doing shift work as a nurse and a single mum meant your niece had spent a good portion of each week in either your or your own mums care since she was a baby, but you wouldn't want it any other way.

you were pulled from your thoughts as there was a tug on your shirt, glancing down you met the bright green eyes of the four year old in question as you bid your sister goodbye and hung up.

"you alright shorty? where's leah?" you bent down to her level, smiling at the way she rolled her eyes. "not short!" she warned with a huff, poking harshly at your shoulder. "shorter than me." you teased, brushing away some sand from her knees.

"aunty lee needs help!" mia announced as now you frowned. "help playing a game? i told you mi sometimes aunty lee only looks cranky because she likes winning but really-" you started to explain your girlfriends horrid sore loser tenancies but mia shook her head, tugging on your shirt again.

"come on! you're so slow and she's stuck." mia interlaced her fingers with yours with a small groan, pulling you away with a slight stumble as you hurried to keep pace with her tiny legs which pumped furiously.

"oh my god." you gasped as you arrived where in fact your girlfriend did need help. "i got help aunty lee!" mia announced proudly, patting your girlfriends cheek fondly. "yeah you did, thanks buddy." leah mumbled, cheeks flushed red clearly embarrassed as you crossed your arms and jutted out your hip, cocking an eyebrow.

"i leave you alone for five minutes." you sighed with a shake of your head, leahs own dropping in shame. "it was an accident!" leah whined, kicking at the sand with a huff and a scowl, refusing to meet your eyes.

"what happened babe?" you grinned, leahs head somehow wedged between the bars of a makeshift shop counter. "she dared me, its her fault!" leah pointed toward your niece whose posture now mirrored your own, hip jutted out and arms crossed.

"no! aunty lee dared me to and i said no then she called me a little chicken." mia huffed as leahs cheeks blushed even brighter red as your niece stuck her tongue out at her and ran off to keep playing.

"so the four year old is the chicken for saying no to doing something very dumb that you, the twenty six year old adult then did to prove you weren't a chicken, and now you're stuck?" you recounted making sure you had the facts right, still keeping one eye on mia who was busy trying to build a snowman with the sand without much luck.

"no." leah mumbled again kicking at the ground and refusing to meet your eyes. "no?" you questioned, lips curling into a grin. "maybe." your girlfriend admitted quietly, gaze flickering up guiltily to meet your own.

"maybe?" you sung out teasingly as leah groaned. "for fuck sakes would you just help me!" leah whined, struggling to free herself with a grunt. "how the hell did you even fit your head in?" you shook your own with disbelief, moving around behind her and trying to help her pull herself free.

after five minutes of fruitless struggle you had to make the call. "babe no, please no!" leahs eyes widened as you pulled out your phone with an apologetic smile. "i have to love, there's no way we're getting you out of here without help." you dialed the right number as leah moaned, head dropping dejectedly as her body language slumped.

"stop filming me!" your girlfriend growled as you stood in front of her with a grin, mia latched onto your leg as you filmed the fireman cutting off the bars, a small crowd of onlookers gathered around from the neighboring houses at the sound of the sirens.

"lookin good williamson...and she's free!" you cheered happily, leahs face glowing bright red as others joined in the clapping, the firemen doing their best to disperse everyone as the captain gave leah a stern talking to about her actions.

"no i promise i learnt my lesson sir, i am so so sorry for wasting your time." your girlfriend apologised profusely as the older man nodded, calling his team away as they all clambered back into the truck and leah pulled her hood up over her head.

"we're leaving, right now." leah warned, grabbing your hand and dragging you off to the car as you held onto mia by the backpack on her shoulders.

"why the rush baby? i wanna see if you can fit your head through the monkey bars next." you teased causing your niece to giggle and your girlfriend to give you a venomous glare, snatching the keys from her pocket.

mia buckled in securely and leah for once on the receiving end of the four year olds teasing the blonde huffed and jammed the key in, starting up the car. "mia if i hear one more word from you the next time you sleepover you're sleeping under the stairs like harry potter!" leah whipped around and warned as the girls face paled and she was instantly silenced.

"you're gonna be a top mum one day babe." you smiled patting her knee as she narrowed her eyes at you and put the car into drive as you connected your phone to her speaker system.

shuffling the kids carpool playlist you know your niece liked leah groaned quietly as mia began to belt out the lyrics to five little monkeys.

"what are you smiling at?" leah asked suspiciously a few minutes later, glancing to you as she stopped at a red light finding your attention buried in your phone with a smirk. "the video of you getting cut out." you grinned as leahs face shifted into a glare.

"delete it!" her hand reached over to try and grab your phone as you pushed her away, warning her sternly there was a child in the back and she needed to keep two hands on the wheel.

"you better not have shown that to anyone." "i didn't." "good! keep it that way." "i haven't shown anyone but i did send it to a few people." "you what!" "yeah! just your mum, my mum, your cousins, my sisters, lia, beth, laura, viv, steph, jen, alex-"

"oh you are so sleeping on the lounge tonight."

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Dragon Blood

Chapter 2: Against his best wishes, Jace learns more about you. When the dragonseeds arrive at Dragonstone and you follow them to Vermithor, he has two choices, intervene and save you from inevitable death, or let fate play out.

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Dragonseed (f) reader

Jacaerys Velaryon stood alone in the study, the flickering candle casting shadows on the maps and documents spread on the table. Even though he had dismissed you, your presence lingered in his mind.

He knew he had been harsh, more so than necessary. That was not how he was raised to treat the staff. Rhaenyra had always emphasised the importance of respect and kindness towards those who served them. Yet, your having Targaryen blood had triggered something within him, a defensive reaction he couldn't quite understand. Those purple eyes of yours kept flashing in his mind.

You were beneath him, a mere servant. But you were also a potential threat to his legitimacy. If his mother's intentions to raise a bastard army were true, your very existence could undermine his claim to the throne.

Jace paced the room, his mind racing. In this cutthroat world of politics and power, he could trust no one but himself. Only he had his best interests at heart.

He clenched his fists. He would secure his place as heir, no matter the cost. He would show the dragon seeds that he was to be their king, the one true successor of the Targaryen dynasty.

Jace returned to his maps, his resolve unyielding. He knew he had to play carefully, balancing his duty to his family and his ambitions. The dragon seeds would see him as their rightful leader, along with the rest of Westeros, and he would ensure that any threats to his rule were swiftly dealt with.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As he passed through the corridors, Jace caught sight of you scrubbing the floors of the great hall, a knocked over goblet next to you, spilling wine across the stone floor.

"You clumsy fool!" A steward barked, grabbing you by the arm and yanking you to your feet. "Do you know how long it took to clean this? You’ll redo the entire hall or go without supper for a week!"

Jacaerys’ eyes narrowed as he watched you flinch, the tears welling up in your eyes, the stammering apology—all of it struck something within him. A pang of sympathy. But another emotion surged within—anger.

How dare someone treat a Targaryen, even a bastard, with such disdain?

He gripped the hilt of his sword. The urge to intervene was strong. But he remained in the shadows.

Only Targaryens should have the power to be cruel to their own blood. No lowborn piece-of-shit steward had the right to mistreat you.

As the man finally released you, leaving you trembling, Jacaerys’ gaze lingered on him. His expression remained unreadable as he turned away, continuing down the corridor with a twisted resolve forming within him.

You were a Targaryen, however distant, and deserved better than this. Yet, you were also a possible threat to his claim.

The image of you, frightened and mistreated, stayed with him. He knew one thing for certain: if anyone dared to harm you again, they would pay a steep price. Only he had the right to decide your fate.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Jace soared through the sky on Vermax as he made his way back from the riverlands after securing an alliance with the Tullys.

As he flew over the market square, his keen eyes caught sight of a familiar figure.

You were making your way towards the castle, a basket of fruits in hand. Your pace was slow and thoughtful as you walked past a group of commonfolk, most of them blonde surrounded by guards. Jace watched as you curiously eyed them before approaching and speaking to one of them. Whatever they said to you seemed to spark something in you, and after a brief moment of contemplation, you continued into the castle, following them.

Jacaerys landed near the dragon pit, slipping off Vermax and making his way stealthily towards the castle. He moved discreetly through the corridors, eventually making his way to the throne room. Hiding behind an entrance, he observed as Rhaenyra Targaryen addressed the gathered common folk, her tone authoritative and promising.

His mother’s intentions became clear as she prepared to lead the dragonseeds to the dragon pit. Jacaerys' heart sank as he realised her plan was to introduce them to Vermithor. It was a dangerous idea and could turn deadly.

Quietly trailing behind them down to the dragon pit, he finally spotted you among them, your eyes wide with awe as you stared at the horrifying creature. Your naive fascination bothered him. How could you and the others be so ignorant of the obvious danger in front of you? The sheer recklessness of it all made him roll his eyes.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer. He remembered seeing you being berated by one of the castle stewards just a few days ago. He could see now why you might be desperate to claim a dragon; to rise above the life of a servant.

Rhaenyra walked past the group, and out of the dragon pit, Jace hid behind one of the doors, out of her sight. Then he seized the moment. He slipped past the crowd, moving swiftly so as not to get noticed.

You felt a hand grip your arm, pulling you back from the crowd and out of the room, before your back hit the rough surface of a stone wall in the corridor.

You blinked, shocked to see the Targaryen prince's stern face staring down at you. "My prince!" you exclaimed, struggling to pull free. "I know I told you I wouldn't. But the queen—"

Jacaerys cut you off, his voice low and urgent. "You need to leave. Rhaenyra has led these people to certain death."

Your eyes widened. That didn't sound right. Rhaenyra was always merciful, at least as far as you knew. Always considerate of the small folk. Surely, she wouldn't lead them to a trap.

Before you could protest, the roar of Vermithor filled the chamber. A blaze of fire erupted from the dragon’s jaws, catching the first volunteer. The sight was horrifying as the dragon began devouring the rest of the screaming volunteers.

Panic surged through you as the full scale of the danger became apparent. Jace held you firmly, guiding you away from the chaos. His grip was unyielding, but it was a lifeline in the midst of the nightmare unfolding before you.

As the smoke and fire filled the dragon pit, Jace pulled you to safety, his face set in grim determination. In that moment, you understood the gravity of the situation. The danger was undeniable, and as you fled with him, a new awareness dawned on you. You weren't safe here.

Tag list:

@alwaysdaydreamingoffiction

@rav9n-16

@dracaryxzs

@jacaeryvardaddy

@ericasabe

[yuri-is-online]

Hey, Yuri, do you think Yuu would ever run the risk of being put in danger by having a romantic relationship with any of the more high-profile members of the cast? I mean, we’ve got royalty, nobility, celebrities, and the very wealthy attending this school. I’ve just been rotating my brain about how these relationships would work out and Yuu is a pretty vulnerable target without NRC’s security. - 🦐

Hmmmmmm. I have a bunch of thoughts about this actually... I tried ranking them from least to most dangerous if that makes sense? But don't read too deeply into the bullet point placements they were mostly just a stream of consciousness thing.

Not that Risky (surprisingly)

Leona- we don't really have details about his brother's marriage, but I don't think his family has been shown to be overly keen on forming alliances with outside countries, the Savannah seems more concerned with itself. I don't think his family would be too fussed with his partner being a magicless person from outerspace, if anything this might be seen as a plus to the councilors that are always mocking Leona behind his back as his partner's lack of royal blood makes him even less fit for the throne. Not to mention Leona himself is more than enough to protect Yuu, he's the only royal at the school without a proper retainer (which you could argue is because no one at home likes him) but I doubt his family would let him do that if he was genuinely in danger.

Rook- he's Rook. His family does sound rather sweet from the very very very little we know about him (he also seems like he was kind of sheltered as a kid, something I should chew on sometime) so I doubt they would allow anything too bad to happen to Yuu.

Vil- his main issue is his contract, the Japanese Idol industry is cut throat and often sees things like bans on relationships as part of the contract. Vil doesn't want to risk his career or reputation, he mentions that he himself is a brand and I can't see him wanting to put that pressure on Yuu if they're not up for it. But... there are also celebrities who have really private personal lives and I sort of get the sense Vil is like that? And I don't think he would be too bothered if Yuu didn't want to be super public, it would certainly make it easier to keep you safe.

Idia- S.T.Y.X. might be a gloomy place but no one knows where it is

Medium Danger (danger is real but can be managed)

Jade and Floyd- we don't actually know what their family does, just that it's probably sketchy and that Mama Leech calls them every day, taught them self defense, and just generally seems to worry about them a lot. The danger is very real under the sea, but I also sort of get the sense that messing with the Leech family is skipping the fuck around and going straight to find out.

Azul- his business is going to make him enemies sooner or later, but at least during school Yuu should be more or less safe. Azul's able to keep on top of the students who mean Yuu harm, and Yuu is able to politely ignore their boyfriend's business (or maybe they have a knack for helping?) When you get older I can see Azul's need for a security team expanding, but he'll have money to get the best.

Riddle- ok so. I don't think his mom would try to kill you. But god she would be such a toxic person to manage. I'm actually working on a (very old) request atm that involves discussing what Riddle's mom might do if she finds Riddle with a partner instead of his studies (which I assume she's paying for) especially during his internship. She'd go full scorched earth and get very confused when Yuu doesn't back off like Trey did.

Huston We Have a Problem

Kalim- the amount of assassination attempts my poor boy has already canonically endured... I imagine there are probably going to be more in his future. I can see Yuu needing their own retainer (which could be a fun concept for an oc) to protect them and test their food. When Grim becomes a great mage I'm sure he could help with that actually, wouldn't that be cute?!

MALLEUS- acceptance of humans is virtually non existence in Briar Valley AND his mother hated humans so much she "blessed" her child to only be loved by fae. We don't actually know how the senate works but I imagine they would lose their ever loving shit if Malleus brought home a human as a friend and now he wants to make them his spouse? No. They say no. Time to show them what an absolute monarchy means I guess.

Assuming Yuu isn't in a relationship with Malleus I could see their friendship actually sort of being a boon to them, especially if Yuu was with Kalim or Azul. Pissing of the merchants is one thing, but the King of the Abyss? No thank you, they'll just take their losses and go.

[merwgue]

Why Feyre as High Lady Could Lead to the Night Court's Downfall (Or, How to Ruin a Court in 10 Easy Steps) comming from someone who is planning to study international relations and whos whole family is quite familiar with it:

Look, we all love Feyre. She's fierce, she's brave, and she can paint a mean flower. But let's be real: as High Lady of the Night Court, she's a Fucking diplomatic nightmare. If there were an award for "How to Piss Off Every High Lord and Their Neighboring Courts," she'd win it. Twice. Here's why Feyre's reign might just bring the Night Court crashing down faster than rhys can growl or cum to the image of his child

1. Explosive Temper and Poor Diplomacy Let’s talk about the High Lords meeting in A Court of Wings and Ruin. Remember that? Feyre’s blow-up at Beron wasn’t just a passionate defense—it was a major diplomatic fuck-up. Yes, Beron was being a total asshole, but diplomacy often means biting your tongue and playing the long game. Feyre's outburst could have easily cost them an alliance with the Autumn Court, potentially turning Beron into an outright enemy. With Hybern on the horizon, losing any potential allies could have been catastrophic. Instead of keeping things cool and trying to find common ground, she let her temper flare, risking everything Rhysand had worked for to keep the courts united. Feyre basically threw a damn match onto a pile of political dynamite.

2. Alienating Potential Allies Ah, the Summer Court fiasco. Remember when Feyre decided it was a good idea to steal from Tarquin? Not just any theft, but a "Hey, let's be friends—JK, I’m taking your most powerful magical artifact" kind of theft. Brilliant move. And then she had the nerve to act all shocked when Tarquin was pissed about it. "What do you mean you're mad I stole from you? We're supposed to be allies!" Gee, I wonder why Tarquin wasn’t thrilled about that little betrayal. It's like borrowing your friend's car and returning it on empty, with a dent in the side. And by "borrow," I mean grand theft auto. Feyre, maybe try not to screw over potential allies next time? Just a thought.

3. Emotional Decision-Making Feyre often lets her emotions drive her decisions. While being passionate isn't inherently bad, it becomes a problem when it overrides logic and strategy, especially in the high-stakes world of Prythian politics. The High Lords meeting is one instance, but it happens repeatedly. Her open hostility toward Tamlin, even if understandable on a personal level, didn't help the broader cause. By pushing him further away instead of seeking some form of truce, she risked driving him into Hybern's arms. A High Lady needs to think beyond personal grudges to what’s best for her people and her court, and Feyre struggles with that balance. You can't just say "screw it" and go off on people when the fate of your entire court is on the line.

4. Ignoring the Complexity of the Night Court And let's not forget the Night Court's lovely little secret: Hewn City. You know, that underground hellhole they basically keep under lock and key. Rhysand and Feyre are all "Oh, look at Velaris, it's so pretty and free!" Meanwhile, half their court is rotting in a glorified dungeon. And what's Feyre's big idea for dealing with Hewn City? Oh, right, pretend it doesn't exist. Smart. Because ignoring a potential uprising within your own court is definitely the way to keep things stable. It's like the French Revolution all over again—if the Night Court were France, then Feyre's approach is like Louis XVI ignoring the starving peasants while hosting extravagant parties. Eventually, ignoring the discontent and keeping people oppressed leads to revolution. Treating Hewn City like an inconvenient problem rather than addressing it is a recipe for disaster.

5. Undermining Rhysand’s Diplomacy Rhysand spent centuries mastering diplomacy—playing the long game, keeping everyone in check. And then comes Feyre, storming in like, "Oh, you spent centuries building these delicate alliances? Well, watch me fuck it up in five minutes." She's like that one friend who always says, "Hold my beer," right before doing something incredibly stupid. Rhys is trying to keep the court from crumbling, and Feyre's out there acting like diplomacy means "scream at the enemy until they go away." Newsflash: That’s not how this works. This isn't some street brawl where whoever yells the loudest wins. It's politics. You know, the art of not making enemies out of every living soul around you?

Conclusion Feyre's got the passion, the guts, and the fighting spirit of a warrior. But when it comes to actually leading a court? She’s like a bull in a china shop, if that bull also happened to have a grudge against every piece of porcelain in the room. Being High Lady isn’t about who's right in the heat of the moment; it's about playing the long game, keeping your people safe, and not, you know, burning bridges with every other court. If she keeps going down this path—alienating allies, ignoring the needs of half her own court, and letting emotions drive her decisions—the Night Court is in serious trouble. Feyre needs to understand that diplomacy isn’t about who can throw the best tantrum. It’s about avoiding a revolution and ensuring the stability of your people. Otherwise, the Night Court might fall not because of an external threat, but because its own leader is too busy screwing things up from the inside.

[brookghaib-blog]

Shattered Dreams

Pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x Reader

tw: abusive behaviour, angst, pregnancy

Summary: Y/N navigates a loveless marriage to Hoshina Soshiro

pt.2

--

The morning sun cast a warm, golden glow across the room, but it did little to dispel the cold atmosphere within. Y/N stood by the window, her eyes focused on the horizon, though her thoughts were miles away. Her hands absentmindedly caressed her growing belly, a reminder of the life growing inside her, a product of a union devoid of warmth.

She had dreamed of being a painter, of bringing colors to life on a canvas, but those dreams were tucked away like the paintbrushes and canvases she kept hidden in the small corner of their home. Her parents had been ruthless in their determination to see her married into a powerful clan, and so, her fate had been sealed with Soshiro Hoshina, the Vice-Captain of the Defense Force's Third Division.

Their marriage was an arrangement, a strategic alliance between families, devoid of love or affection. Soshiro was often away, his duties calling him to fight kaiju, the monstrous threats to humanity. When he was home, their interactions were minimal, their conversations cold and formal.

One evening, as Y/N was finishing a small painting, the door creaked open. Soshiro walked in, his uniform stained with the grime and blood of battle. He looked at her, his expression unreadable.

"You're painting again," he remarked, his tone flat. It wasn't a question, merely an observation.

Y/N nodded, trying to find her voice. "It helps me pass the time."

Soshiro walked past her, his eyes scanning the room with a detached indifference. "I wish you wouldn't waste your time on such frivolities."

Her heart sank at his words, but she kept her composure. "It brings me some peace."

He turned to face her, his eyes cold and unyielding. "Peace? In a world like ours, peace is a luxury we can't afford."

Y/N swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on her. "I know, but it's all I have."

Soshiro's expression hardened, his voice dropping to a low, harsh whisper. "I wish I could get out of this situation. This marriage is unbearable."

The words cut through her like a knife, and for a moment, she felt as if the room was spinning. She had known their marriage was not built on love, but hearing him say it so bluntly, so cruelly, was more than she could bear.

She looked down, blinking back tears. "I... I understand."

Soshiro sighed, his frustration evident. "Do you? Do you really? I am bound by duty, by obligation, and this—" he gestured around the room, "—this is a prison."

Y/N felt a sob rise in her throat, but she choked it back, refusing to let him see her break. "I've tried to make the best of it. I've tried to be a good wife to you."

He laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "A good wife? You're just another chain, another burden I have to bear."

She looked at him then, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and defiance. "And what about our child? Is that just another burden to you?"

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes, a hint of regret, perhaps, but it was quickly extinguished. "I didn't ask for this. Any of it."

Y/N felt the tears spill over, and she turned away, unable to look at him any longer. "I know you didn't. But this is our reality now. Whether you like it or not."

Soshiro said nothing more, and after a few moments, he left the room, the door closing with a soft click behind him. Y/N stood there, her heart shattered, the weight of his words crushing her spirit.

She walked over to her painting, staring at the vibrant colors she had once found solace in. Now, they seemed dull and lifeless, a stark contrast to the dark void that had settled in her heart. She placed a hand on her belly, a silent promise to the child within her.

"I'll be strong for you," she whispered. "Even if he can't love us, I'll find a way to give you the love you deserve."

As the sun set, casting long shadows across the room, Y/N realized that her dreams of being a painter, of finding happiness, were just that—dreams. Her reality was a loveless marriage, a life of duty and sacrifice. And in that moment, she vowed to find a way to survive, for her child's sake, if not for her own.

But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was as much a prisoner as Soshiro, trapped in a cage built by obligations and unfulfilled dreams.

--flashback--

The memory of their wedding day came flooding back, unbidden. The grand hall had been filled with guests, a sea of faces all watching her, judging her. Y/N had worn a traditional kimono, its intricate patterns and vibrant colors a stark contrast to the cold, emotionless ceremony.

Her parents had stood beside her, their expressions stern and unyielding. There was no joy in their eyes, only the satisfaction of a deal well-brokered. Soshiro had been there too, his face a mask of indifference. He had looked through her rather than at her, as if she were an obligation rather than a person.

"Remember your duty," her father had whispered harshly in her ear as he led her down the aisle. "You must uphold the family honor."

She had nodded, her heart heavy with resignation. This was her life now, a life chosen for her, not by her.

--

As the days turned into weeks, Y/N found herself growing increasingly lonely. Soshiro's coldness was a constant presence, a wall she could not breach. She spent her days painting in solitude, each stroke of the brush a small act of defiance against the life she was forced to lead.

One evening, she gathered her courage and approached him as he sat at the dining table, reading reports from the Defense Force. The room was dimly lit, the shadows playing across his stern features.

"Soshiro," she began hesitantly, "I was thinking... maybe we could try to talk more. Get to know each other better."

He looked up from his papers, his eyes cold and distant. "There's nothing to talk about."

"But we're married," she insisted, her voice trembling. "We have a child on the way. Shouldn't we at least try to understand each other?"

Soshiro's expression hardened, his voice sharp. "Understand? There's nothing to understand. You were forced into this marriage just as I was. We are bound by duty, not choice."

Y/N felt a lump form in her throat, but she pressed on. "I know it wasn't our choice, but can't we make the best of it? For the sake of our child?"

He stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. "I'm doing my duty. That's all that matters. This... relationship," he spat the word, "is nothing more than a facade."

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. "I don't want to be just a facade. I want to be a family."

Soshiro's eyes flashed with anger. "You want? What about what I want? Did anyone ever ask me if I wanted this?"

Y/N recoiled as if struck. "No one asked me either."

He took a step towards her, his presence imposing. "Then you should understand. This is a prison for both of us."

She stared at him, her heart breaking anew. "But it doesn't have to be."

He shook his head, turning away from her. "Yes, it does. Accept it, Y/N. This is our reality."

With that, he left the room, leaving her standing there, her hopes shattered. She sank to the floor, the sobs she had been holding back finally breaking free. The walls of their home, once a place she had hoped would be filled with love and warmth, now felt like the cold, unyielding bars of a prison.

--

Y/N sat in the corner of their modest home, her brush gently sweeping across the canvas. The soft strokes of paint were like whispers, echoing her unspoken thoughts. Her fingers traced the curves of a landscape, every stroke a memory of a love lost and a life forsaken.

"My dear," she murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "this painting… it's a piece of my heart. Just like you."

She paused, her hand resting on her swollen belly, feeling the gentle movements within. The baby kicked gently, as if in response to her words. Y/N smiled faintly, a bittersweet expression crossing her face.

"You know," she continued, her voice tinged with sadness, "there was someone before your father. Someone who made me feel… alive."

Her mind drifted back to a time before the arranged marriage, before duty overshadowed desire. She remembered a young officer in the Defense Force, his smile warm and his eyes full of kindness. They had shared stolen moments of happiness, their love blossoming amidst the chaos of kaiju attacks and endless battles.

"He was an officer," she whispered, her voice catching with emotion. "Brave and kind. He made me feel loved, truly loved."

Tears welled up in her eyes as she recalled the day he had died, sacrificing himself to protect others from a rampaging kaiju. The pain of loss still lingered, a wound that had never fully healed.

"I wished…" Y/N's voice trembled as she spoke to her unborn child, "I wished it could have been him. That I could have married him instead."

She paused, wiping away a tear with the back of her hand. The painting before her was a testament to her longing, a silent tribute to a love that had been torn away too soon.

"But life doesn't always give us what we want," she whispered sadly. "Sometimes we have to accept what we're given and find our own strength."

As she painted, the colors blended together in a kaleidoscope of emotions. Each brushstroke was a testament to resilience, to the quiet determination to create beauty from pain.

"You," she said softly, placing a hand on her belly again, "you are my hope. My reason to keep going, even when the world feels cold and lonely."

The baby stirred within her, as if sensing her love and sorrow. Y/N smiled through her tears, her heart heavy yet somehow lighter for having spoken her truth.

"We'll make our own happiness, won't we?" she whispered, her voice filled with quiet determination. "Together, we'll find a way to make our own path, away from duty and expectations."

With a final stroke of her brush, Y/N completed the painting. It was a masterpiece of longing and loss, a testament to a love that had been and a love that was yet to come.

As she gazed at the finished canvas, she knew that her journey was far from over. But with her unborn child nestled safely within her, she found a renewed sense of purpose and a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for happiness in the midst of duty and sacrifice.

The memory of her lost love lingered like a soft breeze in the corner of her mind. He had been an officer in the Defense Force, dedicated to protecting humanity from the relentless kaiju assaults. His name was never spoken aloud anymore, but in the quiet moments of solitude, Y/N allowed herself to remember.

"He was everything to me your father is not," she whispered to her unborn child, her voice a mix of reverence and sadness. "He was kind, gentle… he made me feel cherished."

She recalled their stolen moments together, stolen from the chaos of battle and the pressures of duty. Their love had been a secret, a fragile oasis in a desert of obligations.

"He understood my dreams," Y/N continued softly, her eyes distant as she painted. "He encouraged me to paint, to pursue what made my heart sing."

But fate had been cruel. In the heat of battle, he had sacrificed himself to save others, a hero's death that left Y/N shattered and alone.

"I never got to tell him," she murmured, tears glistening on her cheeks. "I never got to tell him how much I loved him."

The painting before her captured the essence of their love—a tranquil landscape bathed in warm hues, a reflection of the peace they had briefly found together.

Y/N set down her brush, her fingers lingering on the canvas. The room was quiet, save for the soft rustling of paper and the gentle rhythm of her own breathing. She glanced at the painting, feeling a sense of peace settle over her weary heart.

"And your father," she said softly, her thoughts turning to Soshiro Hoshina, Vice-Captain of the Defense Force's Third Division. "He's not like him. But he… he has his own strengths."

Y/N's gaze softened as she thought of Soshiro, proud of his position and the dedication he showed to his duty. Despite their strained relationship, she admired his commitment and the way he commanded respect among his peers.

"I wish he would make an effort," she admitted quietly to her unborn child, "to see beyond duty and obligation."

There were moments, fleeting glimpses, where she saw glimpses of kindness in Soshiro's eyes, moments that stirred a fragile hope within her. She longed for him to understand, to bridge the distance that separated them.

"He could be a good father," Y/N murmured, her voice tinged with longing. "If only he would try."

With a sigh, she placed a hand on her belly again, feeling the baby's reassuring movements. In that tiny life, she found solace and strength—a reason to hope for a future where love and happiness could coexist with duty and sacrifice.

As the sun began to set outside, casting long shadows across the room, Y/N vowed to cherish the memories of her lost love while nurturing the possibility of a new beginning with Soshiro and their unborn child. She knew the road ahead would be challenging, but she was determined to find a way to make peace with the past and embrace the future that awaited them all.

In the quiet of their home, amidst the whispers of her heart and the promise of tomorrow, Y/N found a sense of resilience and hope that would carry her through the trials yet to come.

"I think one day, he'll come around, he's a great man, but we are stuck to a evil situation, I'll keep pursuing him maybe with the right timing, he'll see i'm worth his heart."

--

Y/N stood before the mirror in the bedroom, her reflection framed by soft morning light filtering through the window. She smoothed down the fabric of the floral dress she had chosen carefully, a hint of makeup highlighting her features. Today, she had decided, would be different. Today, she would make an effort.

With a determined breath, she adjusted a stray lock of hair and nodded to herself. Maybe, just maybe, today Soshiro would notice her efforts. She clung to that hope like a lifeline as she gathered a lunchbox filled with his favorite foods and headed out.

-At the Defense Force Headquarters-

The Defense Force Headquarters bustled with activity as Y/N navigated the corridors, the lunchbox cradled carefully in her hands. She had never been to the headquarters before, but she was determined to surprise Soshiro and show him that she cared.

She found her way to the Third Division's office, heart fluttering with nerves. The door was open, revealing a team of officers engrossed in their duties. Soshiro stood at the front, his commanding presence unmistakable. Y/N's pulse quickened as she approached, a nervous smile playing on her lips.

"Soshiro," she greeted softly, trying to catch his attention.

He looked up briefly, his expression guarded. "Y/N? What are you doing here?"

Her smile faltered for a moment, but she pressed on. "I… I brought you lunch. I thought we could have lunch together."

Soshiro glanced around at his team, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face. "You shouldn't have come here," he murmured, his voice barely concealing his annoyance.

Y/N felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her cheeks, but she pushed it aside. "I just wanted to do something nice for you," she insisted, holding out the lunchbox.

He hesitated for a moment before reluctantly accepting it. "Thank you," he said curtly, his gaze flickering over her outfit and makeup "Why are you wearing that? And are you wearing make up?"

She smiled, she did something right. "Yes, do you like it ? I thought that it would look nice."

"You're too big for that right now, wear something appropiate for God sake." ...oh

Some of his teammates exchanged glances, the awkward tension dancing in their eyes. Y/N fought to keep her composure, her cheeks burning with humiliation.

"Always putting on a show." Soshiro remarked casually to his team, his tone dismissive.

Laughter erupted from the group, the sound echoing in the small office. Y/N's heart sank as she fought back tears, her hands trembling, also laughing, as if she didn't recognize the mocking.

"I... I also made a cake for everyone, I hope everyone likes chocolate, you guys work really hard, so I decided to give you something since I was already planning on coming here." She tried, she really did, she just put it down and pretended to be as happy as she could fake.

"I… I'll leave you to it," she managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, she turned and hurried out of the office, the sound of laughter following her down the corridor.

--

Outside, Y/N found a secluded spot in the courtyard, hidden away from prying eyes. She sank to the ground, clutching her knees to her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. The lunchbox lay forgotten beside her, the food suddenly tasteless.

"Why do I even bother?" she whispered to herself, her voice thick with despair. "No matter what I do, it's never enough."

She had tried so hard to make Soshiro notice her, to earn his affection and respect. She had dressed up, put on makeup, gone out of her way to show him how much she cared. And yet, it had all been for nothing.

"He doesn't care," she sobbed, the weight of rejection crushing her spirit. "He'll never care."

The courtyard was silent around her, the air heavy with the weight of her disappointment. She wiped away her tears with trembling hands, trying to regain her composure.

"He's right," she muttered bitterly to herself. "I do try too hard. I should have known better."

But deep down, beneath the pain and humiliation, a small voice whispered defiantly. She deserved to be loved. She deserved to be seen, not as a burden or an obligation, but as a person worthy of affection.

--

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N found herself retreating further into the confines of her room. The once vibrant woman, filled with dreams of painting and love, now felt like a shadow of herself. Pregnancy had brought changes to her body—subtle at first, but increasingly noticeable to her critical eyes. She avoided mirrors, unable to face the reflection that stared back at her with insecurities and doubts.

Her maids bustled about the house, attending to chores she once took pride in doing herself. Y/N had withdrawn from everything that brought her joy. The easel stood untouched in the corner, the canvas blank and waiting for strokes that never came. Meals went half-eaten as she tried to compensate for the weight she felt she had gained.

"I'm not pretty enough," she whispered to herself, fingers tracing the curve of her belly where their unborn child nestled. "Not worth it enough."

She stayed in a separate room from Soshiro, their marriage now a chasm of unspoken words and unmet expectations. The sound of his footsteps in the hallway made her heart race with a mix of hope and fear. She longed for him to notice her absence, to care enough to reach out, but each day passed in silence.

--

Soshiro returned from a long day at the Defense Force headquarters, his thoughts troubled. He had noticed Y/N's absence at meals, her retreating presence a stark contrast to the woman he had married—a woman he barely knew. His duties had consumed him, but now a gnawing worry clawed at his conscience.

"Soshiro," his second-in-command called as he entered their shared living space. "Have you seen Y/N? She hasn't been around."

He paused, his brow furrowing. "She's probably in her room," he replied nonchalantly, though his heart tightened with concern.

"She hasn't been seen all day," his second-in-command pressed, his voice tinged with worry.

Soshiro's footsteps quickened as he made his way to Y/N's room. The door was ajar, a sliver of light spilling into the dim hallway. He pushed it open gently, his eyes searching the room.

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed, her gaze fixed on the floor. She looked fragile, her shoulders slumped and her expression distant. The room felt suffocating with unspoken tension.

"Y/N," Soshiro began tentatively, his voice breaking the heavy silence.

She looked up, her eyes meeting his briefly before flickering away. "What do you want, Soshiro?" Her voice was hollow, devoid of its usual warmth.

"I've been worried," he admitted softly, stepping closer. "You haven't been yourself lately."

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, tinged with self-derision. "My apologies for inconveniencing you," she replied, her tone laced with bitterness.

Soshiro frowned, kneeling in front of her. "Y/N, talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

She shook her head, strands of hair falling around her face. "It doesn't matter," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm just… not good enough, am I?"

He reached out to touch her hand, but she flinched away. "That's not true," he insisted, his voice firm. "You are more than enough."

Y/N laughed again, a bitter sound that echoed in the quiet room. "Do you know what it's like, Soshiro? To feel invisible in your own life? To try so hard, only to realize it's never going to be enough?"

He hesitated, at a loss for words. Guilt gnawed at him—the guilt of neglect, of failing to see the pain she carried beneath a facade of duty.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't realize…"

"You didn't realize," she echoed, tears welling in her eyes. "You didn't even notice."

Silence enveloped them once more, broken only by the faint sound of her stifled sobs. Y/N wiped away her tears with shaking hands, her resolve hardening with each passing moment.

"I'll make it easy for you, Soshiro," she said quietly, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "I'll be the perfect obedient wife. I'll fulfill my duty and nothing more."

"No," he protested, reaching for her hand again, but she pulled away.

"It's better this way," she insisted, her tone final. "You won't have to worry about me anymore."

With that, she rose from the bed, leaving him sitting there, his heart heavy with regret and a sense of loss he couldn't fully comprehend. She walked past him, her steps measured and purposeful, as if steeling herself against the pain.

Soshiro watched her go, a knot tightening in his chest. He wanted to chase after her, to hold her and tell her that she was wrong—that she was loved and cherished. But he remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by his own inadequacies and the weight of their fractured relationship.

--

Alone in her room once more, Y/N sank to the floor, her back against the cold wall. Tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked now, the weight of her despair crushing her spirit.

"I tried," she whispered to the empty room, her voice breaking. "I tried so hard."

Her hand rested on her belly, feeling the gentle kicks of their unborn child. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I'm so sorry."

In the darkness of her room, surrounded by the echoes of shattered dreams and unspoken words, Y/N allowed herself to grieve. She grieved for the love she had lost, for the hope that had faded, and for the woman she had once been.

But amidst the darkness, a tiny spark of determination flickered—a resolve to survive, for her sake and for the child growing within her. She didn't know what the future held, but she vowed to find a way forward, even if it meant burying her own desires and dreams beneath a facade of duty and obedience.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

You’ve bewitched me

Summary: A war lasting three years became heavy on the front lines. Many people died and lost their homes from the actions of one kingdom. But to end the war, both kingdoms agreed to seal an alliance through an arranged marriage. Caught in a loveless marriage with the crown prince, a whirlwind of emotions blasts through foreign land as you try to make your life in the enemy kingdom bearable.

Warnings: slow-burn. Leon is a piece of dick in the beginning. angst. eventual smut. arranged marriage. reader is a princess and Leon is the crown prince. enemies to lovers (i think?). inaccurate historical information. READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Word Count: 11,222

A/N: sorry for not posting in a while, life’s been a bit tough but I’m back better than ever. I want to make this a mini serious (like probably three chapters) but I’ll see how this goes.

[pt.2][pt.3]

“I just can’t say goodnight” — Cosmic, Red Velvet

The Three-Year War was the start of a new era. An era in which two rival kingdoms finally join together in an allegiance. But the memory of how the war began was one that all too many remembered deeply.

It started with a small fight between the two kings over a land of territory that was unowned to either kingdom. Your father, the king of the Kingdom of the Coast, had found a mine in which gold was discovered. Immense amounts of gold hidden beneath the layers of rock called for his attention, which also called the attention of another king.

The Kingdom of the West noticed some strange activity in between the borders of both kingdoms, and the king sent a small army to figure out what was going on. Much to his surprise, the soldiers found citizens of the kingdom of the coast roaming close to the border that separated the two kingdoms and were immediately drawn to the defensive. The two kingdoms hated each other, although not a surprising fact. Both sides argued about who gets to own the mine, debates and meetings sparked between both kings, both claiming the mine was their right.

You didn’t know the full story, as princess of your kingdom, your duty didn’t lie with politics and war. Your duties were much different. When the king left the castle to join in on the war, you sat by the window hopelessly waiting for his return, and he did return, he came back with news of marriage.

And so here you are, on a carriage ride to the Kingdom of the West, foreign lands filled the view of the carriage window but that wasn’t what you focused on. Your thoughts circled back to when your father came back and broke the news of your sudden engagement.

“You are to not argue with the king!” your father said as he slammed his fists against his desk in frustration, “You will get married to the Crown Prince of the West Kingdom whether you like it or not. It is not your duty to argue, it is your duty to obey.”

Even though you knew you had no say in the marriage, you still sought freedom in choosing who to be wedded to. Mother has told you stories about how she had the chance to choose her husband among many suitors, and for years you believed you’d go through the same thing. Only for your hopes to be crushed in the midst of a war.

Upon arriving at the castle of the West Kingdom, you felt a bit unnerved. You were an enemy on foreign land, you had the disadvantage, one that you believed would make you suffer.

“Your Royal Highness, we’ve arrived,” said the servant driving the carriage. As you stepped out of the carriage, you saw a line of servants and maids lined up on the sides of the entrance, along with the royal family.

“Ah, you’re here,” said the king of the West Kingdom as he bowed at you, “Welcome, I hope the journey was not too tiring.”

You knew he only spoke out of respect but there was an underlying emotion that made you believe he didn’t mean it, “Your Majesty,” you said as you curtsied the king, right before you turned your attention to the young man next to him, his son.

His son stood tall, eyes boring into yours with judgment and even resentment. But he didn’t say anything, only bowing along with his father. His icy blue eyes held hatred, one that he had no shame in hiding. His blonde hair was neatly slicked back as his attire screamed rich and royal.

“This is my son, Crown Prince Leon,” the king said before he snapped his fingers and a maid came up to help you with your bags, “Come right in, my servants will show you to your chambers and then we’ll attend dinner.”

The king turned around to leave, wasting no second in going back inside the palace, all while his son glared at you before he followed right behind his father. For a welcome, it definitely went better than you had thought.

Your chambers were exquisite and quite extravagant, very different from home. Curtains hung from the ceiling over the bed, the very big bed. The windows were big enough to see just outside the gardens and training grounds. The room itself was like any other royal room, excessive decorations adorned the walls but it wasn’t something you weren’t used to.

“Your Royal Highness, we are your ladies-in-waiting, it is our honor to make your acquaintance,” a woman said as she bowed her head at you, followed by two other women behind her. You simply nodded and returned the bow, “Pleasured to make your acquaintance,” you replied softly.

“Let us help you prepare for dinner, the king does not like waiting,” she said right before the three of them started to work diligently on helping you into new clothes.

-

Dinner with the king and his son was a bit awkward. The table was silent, a contrast to how your family ate during dinner. Maybe it was because it was just Leon and the king, but even then it was too quiet.

“So, princess,” the king started as he sipped from his wine cup, “how are you liking the palace?”

“It’s beautiful, Your Majesty,” you replied.

The king chuckled, almost as if he knew his castle was beautiful, “Yes, yes, quite the vision for a foreigner,” he said.

“An enemy,” Leon suddenly spoke up for the first time today, “She’s not a foreigner, she’s the enemy,” his tone was bitter and cold. His hands gripping his silverware tight enough to turn his knuckles white. The king stiffened slightly before he downed his wine and set the cup back down, all while staring into the abyss.

“Son,” the king said in a quiet mutter but loud enough for you to hear, “the war is over. She’s going to be your wife, show some respect.”

But Leon didn’t like that. He slammed his silverware down against the table, servants turning their heads to look at Leon as he glared at you, “She’s anything but my wife. She’s a murderer and an enemy. I will not show my respect,” he said right before he stood up and stormed out of the dining hall. The king sighed after the doors slammed closed and you could only stare down at your plate.

“I apologize for my son–he,” the king said as he tried to come up with an excuse for his son’s behavior, only to not be able to say anything else for the remainder of dinner. It was clear that feelings of hatred still lingered from the war even though the war allegedly ended.

“Have a goodnight, princess,” he muttered before he stood up and also left the dining hall, leaving you alone with your half eaten plate.

This was your life from now on. A loveless marriage in a castle where you’re hated by everyone.

-

Months passed after your first day in the palace and not one had it been an easy one for you. Leon avoided you altogether and wouldn’t dare be in the same room as you, he wanted you to know his hatred for you and your kingdom. It became pointless trying to talk to him when you saw him in the halls as he’d turn around and walk in the direction he came from. Or if he was feeling bold, he’d walk right past you without acknowledging you. He loathed you.

Leon’s schedule was busy, as the heir of the throne and son of the current king, he had to manage some of the duties that came with that role. However, he wasn’t always busy, he only locked himself in his study and stuffed himself in tomorrow’s work to avoid you. His hatred ran deep and rooted in a dark place at the bottom of his heart. But he did have an outlet; sword training.

Many days and many nights he’d spend his time outside in the training grounds to let out all his pent up anger. And this only made you feel more alone.

When it was the day of the wedding, both families met together in a church. It was supposed to be a good day for you, weddings were supposed to be a blessing, but this one seemed like a curse. Both kings were delighted as this meant that they were now allies. It was a bit weird seeing your father and Leon’s father get along like childhood friends but there was nothing you could do. Both kingdoms were now united and the war has officially been declared to be over.

Leon, however, didn’t kiss you on the altar. He only gave you a nod, but hey, it was something different from the usual glares.

So now, here you were, in your shared chambers sitting on your vanity stool as you brushed your hair. It was nighttime and Leon had yet to come to bed. He’s always done this. Even though you were now husband and wife, he did everything he could to establish a barrier with you. He’d sleep on the couch near the fireplace as you slept alone on the bed, he’d purposefully wake up earlier as to not greet you in the morning, and he’d come back late at night to not see you awake.

He was a cruel and cold man who wanted nothing with you. You were just about to make your way to the bed when the door suddenly opened. Leon didn’t even spare a glance at you as he made his way to the couch, sitting down and ruffling his hair as he sighed heavily. You stared at him from the reflection of your vanity mirror, watching as he closed his eyes and leaned back against the backrest of the couch. He looked exhausted and if you were in any other circumstances, you’d ask what was wrong. But unfortunately, you knew it would be useless.

The man hated you and there was nothing you could do to change his mind.

“I heard you were making plans to change the garden,” he suddenly said, his eyes still closed as he spoke to you in his distant tone. You turned around on your stool to face him, “Yes, I wanted to replace a few flowers,” you replied softly.

Leon let out a dry scoff before he opened his eyes and looked at you, “And you didn’t consult me about it?” he asked coldly. He stood up to his full height and walked over to you, standing at a distance as he also loathed the idea of touching you.

“You think you can go behind my back and change the place however you want?” he asked lowly as he glared down at you, “I am the Crown Prince, I don’t care if the gardens lie under your duties, you consult me first. Do you understand?”

“Yes but–”

“Do not defy me,” he muttered as he took a step closer to you, “You think you can waltz in here and change everything without ever checking with me?” he then scoffed humorlessly and smirked in a mocking manner, “That’s what your people ever seem to do. You take and you take until you’re full, and forget about everyone else, don’t you?”

“Well, let me tell you something, princess,” he said your title out of spite, “You’re nothing but my wife here. You may be the future queen but you still have to obey me first. Whatever I say goes, and if I want the damn garden to stay that way then it will stay that way,” he muttered with an edge of threat in his tone.

He continued to glare at you, eyes boring into yours with so much resentment. And all you could was nod at him, “Yes, Your Highness,” you replied weakly in a whisper. Leon stared at you for a few seconds longer before he scoffed and walked back to the couch, not wanting to be bothered by you anymore.

-

The next day was busy for you, as future queen of the kingdom, there were a few things you needed to learn about the West Kingdom.

“Again,” the teacher said in a neutral tone as you sat in the library with books stacked on the table, “It’s not too hard to understand.”

You sighed frustratingly, you’ve been reading the same chapter for thirty minutes and you couldn't understand, “Easy for you to say, you’ve been living here your whole life. I’ve been here for three months and I still don’t understand how this kingdom works.”

“Princess, if I may be so bold,” he said as he looked at you, “you’re a smart lady, you understood everything thus far, what’s preventing you from understanding this minor detail?”

You knew what the teacher was insinuating, he thinks you’re distracted. And you know how he feels about distractions, with another sigh you spoke in a much quieter tone, “I just… I just have a lot on my mind, that’s all.

“Do you now?” he asked quietly as he seemed to be observing and analyzing your behavior.

“Yes, I do,” you replied a bit more firmly, even though you didn’t mean to come off as defensive, you couldn’t help but feel that way. It was as if Leon had conditioned you to stay that way during your stay.

Everyone in the palace, the servants and the maids, were well aware of Leon’s mistreatment towards you. He wasn’t one to shy away from letting everyone of his hatred for you. Some pitied you but they wouldn’t dare go against Leon as he was the crown prince.

“It’s the crown prince, isn’t he?” The teacher said bluntly and almost unimpressed. You, however, felt a bit surprised. Were you that obvious?

“How do you know?” You muttered softly as you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Who doesn’t know? All you two ever do is argue, well it’s mostly him, but you get my point.

Shame is what you felt upon his answer. Was that how everyone saw the relationship between you and Leon? You were supposed to be husband and wife, a beacon of peace between two kingdoms and yet, you were more apart than the Atlantic sea.

“I just—I don’t know,” you muttered, “it’s like everything I do angers him. I tried to be kind to him and show respect but all he does is shut me down and pretend I don’t even exist.”

“He hasn’t even said a single kind word to me,” you continued as the teacher remained silent, “I know he didn’t ask for this, but I also didn’t. I just wish he could understand *me*.”

There was a silence that overtook between you and the teacher, as if he was contemplating what to say, “The crown prince has been through a lot,” he said after a few moments of silence, “all he needs is time and he’ll come around, eventually.”

“Eventually,” you repeated under your breath. It may have only been three months but you’d hoped that he would at least be a bit kinder to you. Much to your dismay, you knew that wouldn’t happen anytime soon.

After your studies, you roamed around the castle, trying to familiarize yourself with the structure. It was a bid castle, bigger than your own castle back home. Oh how you missed home.

You missed your bed, your friends, your family, the food they’d serve—you missed everything. Here, you were alone with a husband who hates you.

As you were about to make turn around the corner of the hall, someone’s hand suddenly covered your mouth as you felt them move you to pin you against the wall. It was a knight.

Your eyes widened but the knight held you firmly in place with one hand on your mouth and the other on your waist. Your heart was beating fast and your chest heaved up and down. Your maids walked on without you.

“Shh, princess,” the knight murmured in a sultry tone, “we don’t want to cause a scene, now do we?” You quickly shook your head ‘no’ terrified that he would do something to you.

The knight smirked and held you firmly in place against the wall, loving how scared of him you looked.

“Such a pretty thing…” His hand on your waist started to wander, his fingers brushing over your corset.

“I’ve wanted you for a while now….”

He moved closer to speak into your ear, his hand on your mouth moving to your hair to hold a fistful of it, while the other hand continued to wander.

“Let me go,” you whispered and closed your eyes tightly shut as you felt him hold your hair in a fist, ruining your hairstyle while his other hand roamed your corset.

Your hands gripped the wall, you were beyond terrified. How dare he lay his hands on a married woman—a married princess.

The knight didn’t listen to your pleas, continuing to keep you pinned against the wall, his hands now grabbing your hips.

“Shhh,” he murmured, his lips now against your neck, “I want you all to myself.”

The knight started to undo some of the laces at the back of your corset. Your eyes widened slightly as you your hands quickly traveled to hold your corset up against your breasts to ensure that it wouldn’t fall.

“What are you doing—stop,” you ordered the knight.

The knight continued to undo the laces, the smirk on his face only growing as you tried to hold your corset up.

“Shh, don’t be like that, princess,” He murmured, his lips still against your neck as his hand moved to your wrists, “Let me do this…”

He started to loosen your corset, his hand then moving to squeeze your hip. He was too busy to notice Leon and the king, who were walking down the other side of the hall.

The laces of your corset were fully undone, the strings hanging down your back as you held the material up your chest, “My husband is the heir to the throne, he’ll have you decapitated if he sees you,” you threatened.

But you didn’t know if Leon would even do that for you. Leon hated you, he despised you to the point where he ignored your existence on a daily basis.

The knight simply smirked against your neck, his hands starting to wander and exploring your body.

“I doubt the crown prince would care,” he replied huskily, his hand cupping your breast through the fabric, “He doesn’t love you.”

As the king and Leon continued down the hall, Leon suddenly froze, a look of anger immediately appearing on his face. His anger grew as he saw you in the knight’s embrace. His father had no reaction, but Leon was pissed.

He walked down the hall quickly to you and the knight, staring at you with a hard glare. Leon’s jaw clenched as his eyes flicked to all the loose laces of your corset.

“What is the meaning of this?!” The king angrily exclaimed as he and Leon walked over to the knight.

You looked over at the King and Leon from behind the knight and felt even more worse. You felt embarrassed and ashamed of being seen like this. So you directed your attention to the floor as you tried not to cry.

The knight froze when he heard the king and Leon’s footsteps and voices, his hands freezing and the smirk on his face falling.

He quickly removed his hands from you, stepping away and quickly bowing in the king’s presence.

“Your majesty,” he said in a hurry, sweat forming on his forehead.

Leon stood behind his father, his eyes locked on you, taking in your appearance. His mind was a mixture of anger and disgust, seeing you with your laces undone and your corset askew.

When the knight took his hands off of you and took a step back, you fell down to the floor and held your corset up as to not expose yourself further.

You still avoided all their gazes, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t want any of this to happen to you.

“What were you thinking?!” The king started to reprimand the knight, “How dare you disrespect the lady of the house like that?!”

Leon’s eyes were locked on your face. He was angry. No. Enraged. Furious. Watching the knight touch you, the man’s hands on your body, groping you, made his blood boil.

He hated you. He hated you so much. But no one could touch you like that. You’re his wife. His property.

The king continued to yell at the knight, while Leon walked over to you and knelt down in front of you.

“Once we go back home, I’ll make sure you to punish you,” the king said the knight in a harsh tone, “Let’s go.”

He then looked down at you and Leon before he started to walk away with his knight trailing behind him. The moment it was just Leon and you in the hall, you could practically feel the anger rolling off of him. He clenched his fists at his sides, his jaw clenched and teeth gritted.

He couldn’t believe it. The sight of the knight’s hands on you, his lips on your neck, his hands cupping your breast… it made him see red.

He hated you. He despised you. But you were his. His wife. No one else was supposed to touch you like that.

Your maids were frantically looking for you and then they found you on the floor with Leon kneeling in front of you.

“My Lady,” one of them said as they ran over to both of you. They slowly helped you up, covering you body as they held you corset up, “Oh my,” another said under her breath.

My maids looked at Leon and bowed at him, “Excuse us, Your Highness,” one said before they started to drag you to your shared chambers. Leon stood up and watched as your maids hurried over to you, their eyes widening at your appearance.

For a moment, he considered whether or not to have the knight killed for what he did. He hated you. But you were his, and he wanted to make sure you knew that. He wouldn’t ever let another man touch you like that. But he also wouldn’t ever let anyone disrespect him like that.

The maids took you to your shared quarters where they helped you out of your dress and into your nightdress, getting you ready for sleep since it was already quite dark outside. Once you were dressed for the night, your maids left your quarters.

It was late at night. Leon went to his study to finish up some paperwork, before finally heading to yours and his shared quarters.

He was still enraged over what happened. The thought of the knight touching you, his hands on your body… it had Leon seeing red.

But why? Why did it anger him so much? It was because you were his wife and no one else was allowed to touch you. Not because he loved you, or even cared for you. Because you were his property.

When he was done with his paperwork, Leon entered the quarters, and immediately spotted you at the vanity desk. He still couldn’t get the sight of your appearance from what happened. Seeing you with your laces undone and your corset askew, the knight’s hands all over your body… it angered him for some unknown reason.

He slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing in the room as he stalked over to you. Your eyes widened and you visibly flinched when he suddenly slammed the door behind him.

“What happened,” he asked coldly, his voice low and harsh as he continued to approach you.

“What?” You muttered under your breath in mild shock.

But then you realized what he wanted, he wanted you to explain the whole thing. You swallowed dryly as you looked up at him, “I was walking with my maids until someone pulled me back and…” you muttered. Even talking about it made you uncomfortable.

Leon’s anger towards you made me uncomfortable, especially because you didn’t understand why he was so angry. His kingdom won the war yet he still saw you as his enemy, “But I tried to fight him off and I told him to stop. I even said you’d decapitate him but he didn’t listen.”

Leon’s anger only grew as he heard you recall what happened, that knight’s hands all over you while you tried to fight him off. The thought of it only made him even more enraged. How dare he touch you like that, and in the halls like that.

“Stupid woman,” he said scathingly, his deep voice full of disdain for you, “Of course he didn’t listen, he clearly didn’t care about what I’d do to him.”

You furrowed my brows and parted your lips as he called you that, Stupid woman.

It repeated in your mind several times, which caused your eyes to water. Did he think you enjoyed being harassed like that? You looked down at the floor, what else would you expect from Leon if it wasn’t going to be harsh words.

Leon’s eyes darkened at the sight of your watery eyes. He didn’t care if he offended or hurt you, as he saw you as nothing more than an obstacle.

“Clearly he thought you were some whore,” he continued, his words harsh and cold, “What else would he think? It’s not the first time something like this has happened, after all.”

He looked at you, a scornful look in his eyes. He hated you, but the thought of another man’s hands on you, it ignited a fire within him.

You looked back up at him in shock, did he just call you a whore? You were a princess, born and raised to be graceful and elegant and he reduces you to a whore? You felt disrespected.

“It is the first time a man has laid their hands on me,” you quickly argued back as you stood up, a tear rolling down your cheek, you’ve had enough of him, “You won’t even touch me. We haven’t even tried for an heir like your father wanted!”

Leon clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowing as you spoke. You had a point, a very valid point. But he wouldn’t admit that.

“Don’t expect me to actually want to touch you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with disgust, “You’re just the price I had to pay to stop the war. I’ll have heirs, but they won’t be yours. I’ll never allow my children to share your blood.”

He took a step closer to you, his eyes cold and hard. A scoff escaped your lips, “You’re calling me a whore when you just admitted you’d have heirs with other women?” You said in disbelief.

“You are a selfish bastard, your heart is brittle and rotten,” you whispered harshly to him as another tear rolled down.

Leon’s eyes darkened at your words. Selfish bastard. He knew that’s what you thought of him, but hearing you actually admit it angered him. But not as much as the thought of having heirs with you.

“You’re the one who’s delusional,” he spat, “You’re not worthy enough to have my heirs or the title of queen. That’s the only reason I’ll be lying with other women.”

He took another step closer, his jaw clenching. He loathed you. Hated you.

Him admitting that hurt you beyond belief. It was like something in you and you gave up. Hearing him not just say that he’ll lay with other women but that you were useless as well hurt.

You looked at him with pain in your eyes, your jaw clenched as you tried to hold back your tears, “Fine,” you whispered in a resigned tone.

“Go ahead. Sleep around with other women,” you muttered, “Just don’t complain when your name gets brought up in a brothel for being their number one customer.”

You gave up. He hated you beyond repair and nothing you could do could change that. So you simply just decided to stop. The mere thought of him being with other women hurt more than you thought it would. All my life you’ve been taught and raised to be the fitting queen by his side. What purpose did you have now?

Leon was caught off guard by your resigned tone and the look in your eyes. He wasn’t expecting you to give up like this. He expected more of a fight from you.

“I will,” he said firmly, his eyes still cold and hard, “In fact, I’ll start tonight.”

His words stung. He wanted heirs, but not from his “arranged” wife, you. He could only imagine the children you could raise together, but he could never allow himself to even think about it.

Your heart broke even more. Tonight? Your mouth gaped open but you quickly closed it and remained silent as your eyes watered. You couldn’t do anything.

“Alright,” you whispered, “Go on. I won’t stop you,” you turned around and went over to your bed.

You sat down on the edge, taking off your shoes. Then you blew out your candle and laid down on the bed, bringing the covers up to your chin and closed your eyes. You did not want to cry but why does it feel like you are?

Leon could simply only watch you. He expected you to get angry and lash out at him, but instead, you simply accepted it.

The sight of you on the bed, pulling the covers up to your chin with tears in your eyes, stirred something in him. But he forced it down. He hated you. He’d always hate you.

“I won’t be coming back here tonight,” he said coldly, his voice harsh and emotionless, as he turned and headed for the door.

Leon could hear your soft whimpers as he headed towards the door, but he ignored them. He didn’t care if you were crying or not. He didn’t care how hurt you were because of him. All he cared about was himself.

Even though he felt something stir in him when he saw you on the bed, crying and upset, he forced it down. He continued to ignore it as he opened the door and left. He wouldn’t come back tonight. He was going to find a woman he actually liked. One that wasn’t you.

Leon walked away from the quarters. He headed out of the palace and out into the town.

Tonight, he was going to visit the taverns to find a woman to spend the night with. The thought of you was still in the back of his mind, but he pushed it down, determined to have a distraction from the thoughts of you crying in bed alone.

He could have a woman or two in a tavern, and that would distract him. Perhaps when he returned, you’d be asleep and he wouldn’t have to think about you at all.

The nearest tavern was full of women lingering around in skimpy gowns, obviously known as the hookers that attracted attention to the business.

But amidst all the women, could he really just forget about you? The hurt in you eyes, your bottom lip slightly trembling whenever you’d cry, or the way your eyes would look like a wounded puppy? Could he really find a distraction from that gnawing feeling at his chest with a woman who’d forget him next thing in the morning?

He was the crown prince, everyone wanted a piece of him, but no one dared. The women looked at him, but didn’t approach him. In their eyes, he too high up in the ranks. Leon could feel the eyes of the women in the tavern on him as he entered.

But he couldn’t have you, even though you were his wife. That was the problem. He could be with any woman, but he would never allow himself to allow you to get close to him because he hated you.

But as he continued to look around, Leon began to falter. He began to grow frustrated. Because every woman he looked at, he found himself comparing to you.

The women were no match for you, and as much as he hated to admit it, he knew it was true. You were beautiful and gracious, and the women in the tavern could never compare.

He grew frustrated by this realization. He was the crown prince. He could have any woman he wanted, yet no one here seemed worthy of him. He let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes still scanning the crowd of drunken soldiers and whores. None of them compared to you, and he hated knowing that.

Leon had spent hours in the tavern, but he found no one who could compare to you. It was infuriating. No matter who he looked at, you were the one he kept thinking about.

As the night continued to drag on, Leon began to think it was time to return to the castle. It was getting late, and the longer he was away, the more he would think about you. With a grumble, he left the tavern and headed back towards the castle.

Leon entered the castle, still feeling frustrated and annoyed. He had wasted hours at the tavern, only to come back to the castle empty-handed.

The halls were quiet as he made his way down, heading to the quarters he shared with you. He knew you were asleep this late, and the thought of you being fast asleep in bed annoyed him, but not as much as the thought of seeing you crying.

When he pushed open the door to your shared quarters, his eyes landed on you. You were asleep, your hair fanned out over the pillow, looking beautiful even in your sleep. He mentally cursed himself for thinking you were attractive.

Leon shut the door behind him, watching you sleep for a few moments. He couldn't deny how beautiful you looked, even in your sleep. Your hair was spread out on the pillow, and the way the moonlight hit your face, it was beautiful.

But Leon quickly squashed that thought. He hated you, he despised you. He could never find anything about you beautiful or attractive, no matter what.

He walked over to the bed, looking down at you as you slept soundly, unbothered by his arrival. Leon couldn't help but watch you as you shifted in your sleep, rolling onto your back. You looked beautiful, even with tear stains on your cheeks, presumably from crying after he left for the tavern.

He should've been thinking about the women he met at the tavern. He should've been comparing them to you, wanting to hurt you by going on about how much more beautiful they were. But Leon found himself unable to do that. He couldn't compare you to the tavern whores. In his eyes, none of them came close to your beauty.

He hated you, but not even he could deny that you were the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. Leon let out a quiet sigh, looking to the couch by the fireplace. He would be on the couch, and nothing more. He would never sleep in the bed with you.

When morning rolled up, your maids came into the room to help get ready for the day. All while you didn’t spare Leon a glance. His words deeply hurt you and you had given up on him.

He was free to do what he wanted, not like you had a say in the first place, his servants came into the room to help get dressed for the day as well.

“Your Highness,” one of your maids said as she started to do your hair as you sat on your vanity stool, “The gardener is here to help you renovate the garden.”

“Ah,” you replied to her, “I forgot to cancel the renovation plans. I’ll meet him downstairs,” The maid nodded and continued with your hair. When she was done helping you, you made your way out of the room and towards the lobby of the castle.

Once you reached downstairs with your maids behind you, you spoke French to the gardener since he was French, “Bonjour, je suis désolé mais j’ai peur de devoir annuler les plans pour le jardin.”

Leon’s servants, once he was dressed, started to follow him downstairs as he also had business to do. Or maybe training. Who knew what his schedule was.

The French gardener looked at you in surprise as you spoke to him in perfect French. He didn't expect you to speak the language, but it was a pleasant surprise nevertheless. Your maids were also quite surprised to hear you were fluent in another language, you must’ve learned foreign languages back home.

"Ah, Bonjour," he replied with a smile, "Ce n’est pas grave, Votre Altesse, je pourrais toujours vous donner mes conseils pour l’avenir si vous le souhaitez.”

Leon's servants followed him as he made his way downstairs, his ears perked and listening to the conversation between you and the gardener. He wasn’t aware you could speak another language so fluently.

You nodded, figuring that some advice wouldn’t hurt anyone. You started to walk towards the gardens with your maids behind you as the gardener walked next to you.

Once you reached outside, you spoke to the gardener, in French, about how you wanted to change some of the flowers and replace them with better ones.

“My Lord,” one of his servants said to Leon, “the grounds are ready for you to practice sword fighting, Your instructor is waiting.”

He grunted in response to his servant, "Very well. I shall head there now," He was about to turn and walk away when he suddenly changed his mind.

"Actually," he said to the servant, "I shall go outside first," The servant's brow furrowed in confusion, but Leon ignored him. He began walking outside instead, heading towards the garden area, seemingly wanting to follow you.

As Leon walked towards the garden area, his servants followed behind him. Some were confused and others surprised at the sudden change of plans.

“Je veux me débarrasser des tournesols, ils bloquent les roses de l'autre côté du buisson,” you said to the gardener, unaware of Leon approaching the garden area, “Pouvez-vous remplacer les tournesols par des pivoines?”

The French gardener nodded at your suggestion, "Bien sûr. Nous pouvons certainement remplacer les tournesols par des pivoines. Elles seront de bien meilleures plantes en cette période de l'année."

The gardener began to think, "Peut-être devrions-nous aussi semer des jacinthes pour ajouter un peu de variété."

As the gardener spoke, Leon continued to walk towards the garden area. His eyes narrowed as he heard the sound of you and the gardener speaking in French. He was feeling suspicious.

“My Lord,” one of Leon’s servants followed behind him, “Shall we introduce you to the gardener? He came all this way from France.”

Leon grunted in response to his servant, his gaze still focused on you and the gardener. The way you smiled at the gardener made his blood boil.

As you both continued to speak in French, his servants looked at each other, some looking confused while others looked amused. They knew of his hatred for you, and they could tell that he was irritated by you speaking to the gardener.

Finally, Leon came to a stop a few feet behind you, his arms crossed over his chest. He remained silent, listening to the conversation between you and the gardener.

You hadn’t noticed Leon behind you but your maids, however, did notice and they glanced at the servants with a nervous expression, one that said ‘what is he doing here?’. It seemed that Leon’s irritation and anger was evident.

“Your Highness,” your maids said as they curtsied. The greeting making you a bit stiff as you turned and noticed Leon. You looked up at him, confused and a bit surprised. But the pain in your heart was still present. You followed after your maids, also curtsying Leon.

Leon's expression darkened as you both turned around to face him. His eyes were hard as they met yours, the irritation and anger written all over his face.

His servants stood quietly behind him, their eyes flickering between Leon and you, unsure of what to do. They could feel the tension in the air, and they could sense their master's anger.

"What are you doing?" Leon asked, his voice low and cold. He glanced at the gardener before looking back at you, his gaze unwavering.

You knew Leon was angry, everyone could tell, even the French gardener. It was as if anger just radiated off of him, “I was just seeking advice,” you said as you looked up at Leon.

“This is Augustus,” you said to Leon, “He’s a good friend of my brother who’s well-versed in gardening. I called for him to help,” you explained in a gentle voice. You would’ve sent him back to France but Leon didn’t really give you time to cancel plans so suddenly.

Leon's eyes narrowed as you explained why you called the gardener. His jaw clenched tightly, and his servants could see his hands balling into fists at his sides.

"Why did you not consult me before calling for this gardener?" he asked, his voice laced with irritation. His eyes flicked to the gardener, Augustus, before returning to you, “I thought I told you to consult me before you went off and made choices of your own.”

"What other plans do you have for the garden?" he continued, his gaze never leaving yours.

You glanced at my maids, seeing their nervous expression before you looked back at Leon. You could already feel the argument coming tonight.

“I wanted to get rid of the sunflowers as well as the weeds and replace them with peonies and hyacinths,” you replied.

“Some of your gardeners have been having trouble taming the weeds so I thought I could help find the root of the problem,” you mumbled softly.

As you spoke, Leon's jaw clenched even tighter. He couldn't believe you hadn't asked for his permission before making plans to change the garden.

"And you thought it was appropriate to invite a friend of your brother's to help without consulting me?" he snapped, his tone cold and biting. His eyes narrowed again as you continued, "What makes you think the problem can be solved so easily? You think you know better than my gardeners?"

Your eyes widened slightly as he snapped at you. You furrowed your brow and opened your mouth to defend yourself but ultimately decided against it. No matter what you say, he’ll just get more mad.

So, in resignation, you sighed and shook your head before you lowered your head, “No, Your Highness,” you said.

Leon's eyes narrowed further as you lowered your head, your submission fueling his anger. He loathed the fact that you so easily backed down, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at your compliance.

"Exactly," he sneered, "You know nothing about gardening. Leave it to the professionals. And next time you plan something, consult me first."

Leon glanced at the gardener, who had been listening in awkwardly. He felt a pang of annoyance at the man's presence.

“My lord,” one of Leon’s servants stood next to him, “we should go back. The instructor is waiting,” he kindly reminded Leon of his sword practice. Leon's eyes flicked over to his servant, a flicker of annoyance passing through them. He wasn't finished speaking to you, but the reminder about his practice session couldn't be ignored.

He gave his servant a terse nod before turning back to you, his expression hardening once more, "This conversation isn't over," he said, his voice low and cold. He shot one final glare at the gardener before turning and walking away, his servants following behind him. He knew the argument was going to continue later.

You knew the conversation was far from over, hell, you even thought he’d make you pay for it. And that was something you dreaded. Once he was gone, you turned to look at your maids.

“Escort the young boy to his carriage,” you said before you looked at the gardener, “Je m'excuse pour ce que vous avez vu, ce fut un plaisir de vous avoir ici.”

The gardener nodded at you, a sympathetic expression on his face. He had seen plenty of couple's disagreements before, but this one seemed particularly intense.

"Ce n'tait pas de votre faute," he said, his voice soft, "Je suis tout de même heureux de vous avoir rencontrée."

You felt bad that about the whole thing. You glanced at your maids and nodded at them, signaling them to take the young gardener away while you remained on the garden.

As Leon practiced on the training ground, his mind was still on the incident in the garden. Your insistence on changing the garden, your lack of asking him for permission, and the way you had spoken to the gardener all boiled his blood.

He couldn't believe that you had invited the gardener without telling him first. Who did you think you were? And the way you had looked so timid, lowering your head in submission like that. It made his blood boil even more.

He swung his sword harder, channeling his anger into his training.

Later. Later, he would deal with you.

For the rest of the day, you spent your time in the library reading and learning about Leon’s kingdom. There was so little that you could do now that Leon was angry at you yet again.

As you sat on a table near a window, you could see Leon practicing on the tracking grounds with other soldiers. The sun was beaming down on them, the sounds of their swords clanking being heard even from the second floor where you were.

You sighed, why did he have to be so rude to you? His kingdom won the war. Shouldn’t that make him happy? But you didn’t want to think about it. You redirected your gaze down towards your book and continued reading.

Some of the soldiers were sitting down, taking a break from their training as they watched Leon train with another soldier.

“Don’t he look more…tense?” One soldier said to the other. The other narrowed his eyes and tried to study Leon before he shook his head, “Huh…I don’t see it.”

“My lord—“ said the soldier Leon was training with, “We must take a break, you’ll hurt yourself.”

Leon ignored the soldier's pleas, his eyes focused on the sword in his hand.

"I don't need a break," he snapped, his voice harsh. No matter how hard he trained, he couldn't shake his annoyance with you. He lunged forward with his sword, aiming a blow at the soldier, who quickly blocked it. The clash of steel on steel echoed through the training grounds.

“Wait,” said the other soldier, “No, yeah, he’s tense,” the two soldiers sitting down nodded as they observed Leon going all out on his training.

The soldier started to block Leon’s blows but did not aim any at Leon. It was dangerous training with someone with so much anger. And that was until the soldier’s sword flew out of his hands and fell on the floor, a victory for Leon.

The two soldiers on the bench clapped and cheered for Leon, “Good work, my lord,” one said. The soldiers of his castle were good friends with Leon. Sometimes they’d go out for drinks after winning a battle.

Leon panted heavily as he stood over the soldier whose sword had been knocked out of his hand. His eyes were still hard and anger burned in them. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with his arm before glancing at the two soldiers who had been watching. He grunted in acknowledgment of their praise but didn’t smile. He dropped his own sword on the ground with a clatter and started walking towards the side of the training grounds. He needed a break.

One of the soldiers tossed Leon a water pouch as the other spoke to the soldier on the floor, “For a rookie, you did pretty good. Not amazing. But good,” he said with a smug smirk.

“Oh shut it, Andrews,” the rookie soldier said as Andrews simply laughed, his laugh echoing out on the training grounds. Andrews was a much older and experienced soldier, the guy next to him, Kyle, was also experienced. But they were both loyal.

Leon stopped for a moment, lifting the water pouch to his lips and taking a long drink. The water cooled his body, but it didn’t do anything to cool his anger.

His eyes flickered up to the castle, seeing your figure sitting at the window. He gritted his teeth, his gaze turning cold. You were the reason he was so angry in the first place.

He handed the water pouch back to the soldiers before turning and walking towards the castle, striding with purpose.

It was time to confront you.

Leon walked angrily through the halls of the castle, his boots thudding loudly against the marble floor. The servants who walked past him quickly scurried out of his way, intimidated by his intense glare. He didn't bother making eye contact with them as he walked.

He made his way towards the library, his mind set on confronting you. You couldn’t just go around making decisions on your own. He was the king, and he would show you your place. Without knocking, he pushed open the door to the library.

You looked up at the sound of the doors being slammed opened and saw Leon. You quickly put your pencil down and stood up, “My lord,” you said in a surprised tone as your eyes widened slightly.

You started fixing your dress as it reached the floor. The dress was a simple yellow dress that was tight from your waist and chest. It wasn’t a corset but the dress did hug your breasts nicely. The sleeves reached your elbows and the fabric was made of silk. Then you walked to stand in front of him with the table behind you. Your hands clasped together in front of you as you looked up at him.

Even in heels, he stood taller than you. But now wasn’t the time to think about that. He hated you and his words from last night still lingered in your mind. Of how he’d rather sleep with other women and have heirs with them than with you.

Leon stalked towards you, his eyes fixed on you with a mixture of anger and annoyance. He looked at your dress, taking in your form, his gaze lingering a beat too long on your chest before he met your eyes again. He could feel himself getting more annoyed just from looking at you. He wanted to yell at you, to reprimand you, to make you understand your place as his wife.

“We need to talk,” he said, his voice tense and low.

You nodded slowly, “Alright,” you muttered, “what do you want to talk about?”

Leon clenched his fists at his sides, trying to control his anger, "You had no right to invite that gardener to the castle without my permission. Who do you think you are, making decisions like that without consulting me?"

“I didn’t mean to offend you like that,” you tried to defend yourself, your tone quiet and timid, “I thought I could make my own choices since the gardens fall under my duties as lady of the house.”

He took a step closer, his voice low and menacing, "You need to learn your place, princess. You're my wife, nothing more. You don't make decisions here, I do."

You looked up at him as he stepped closer. His reminder once again being cruel. You were nothing else than just a pawn to him. Something to help get closer to the crown so he’d be king.

He paused for a moment, his eyes scanning over your form again, before he continued, "And another thing...”

“What other thing, my lord,” you muttered and furrowed your brows confused. But, something in you took control and you were getting angry as well, “Did you find a whore last night?” You suddenly asked.

Leon stiffened, his eyes narrowing at your words. He hadn't expected you to bring up the topic of his nighttime activities.

"Yes, I did," he lied, his voice hard, "Why do you ask?"

There was a bitter undertone to his words. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he hadn't been able to go through with his plans to find a woman at the tavern. Every woman he saw paled in comparison to you, and the thought of bedding someone else left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Because whatever you do also affects me,” you muttered and looked up at him with a firm expression.

“Your actions have consequences and I do not want you to squander my reputation. I am a noble lady, not the wife of a man who won’t stop sharing himself to the whores of the night,” you said through gritted teeth. You hated his words. You hated *him.*

Leon's expression darkened at your words, his jaw clenching at being reprimanded by you.

"You have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do," he snapped, "I'll do as I please, and who I please. And it is none of your concern."

He took another step closer, his height towering over you, "You're my wife, that's all. You don't have the right to make decisions, and you certainly don't have the right to shame me for pursuing other...pleasures."

“Don’t you realize what might happen if your father knows that you’ve been having sex with random women and that you bring home an illegitimate son into your family?” You said as you looked up at him with furrowed brows, how could he be so selfish?

“I will not shame you and I am not telling you what to do. Just do things with the consequences in mind,” you muttered as your gaze slowly fell down.

Leon rolled his eyes at your words, his irritation only growing.

"I'm not stupid," he snapped, "I know what the consequences could be to my actions, but I also know that I am a grown man who can make his own decisions. And what would you know about consequences? You've never had to make a hard decision in your life."

He took another step closer, his chest almost touching yours as he leaned in, his voice low, "I'd watch your tone if I were you. Remember your place."

You watched as he took a step closer, his chest so close to yours but you didn’t focus on that. You held my ground, looking up at him.

“Why?” You muttered, “What are you going to do if I don’t watch my tone? I’m only trying to look out after you. After us.”

He may hate you, and he may have a reason why. But you didn’t want his actions to drag you down as well.

"I appreciate your concern," he said, his voice sarcastic, "But I don't need you to look out for me. I can handle myself."

He took a step closer, so close that you could feel his breath on your skin, "And if you don't start watching your tone, you might find yourself with a sore arse."

You furrowed your brow and stared in disbelief and fear. Was he seriously going to put his hands on you?

“A sore arse? Do you hear yourself?” You mumbled. He was getting too close. For a moment you were confused because he’d never touch you and yet here he was. Telling you he was going to spank you.

“You dare lay your hands on me?” You muttered, “What would the people think if they found out that you…that you…”

You inhaled and looked at him, “Your people will be displeased if they hear that you lay your hands on your wife,” you muttered.

Leon's expression darkened as you challenged him, his jaw clenching. He didn't like being threatened by you, not one bit.

"And who do you think the people would believe?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous, "Me, the future king, or you, the useless princess who serves no purpose other than to warm my bed at night."

You narrowed your eyes at him, to hear that words come from his mouth was hurting. Especially since he’s been treating you as if you were nothing.

“I won’t bother you,” you whispered, it seemed that no matter what you say he’d still find something to be angry at you about. It was pointless talking to him.

Leon's expression softened slightly as he saw the pain in your eyes, but he quickly steeled himself, refusing to show any signs of compassion.

"Good," he said coldly, "Because you're already a nuisance as it is."

He took a step back, putting some distance between you and him, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Just stay out of my way," he said, his voice still cold, "And try not to make my life even more difficult than it already is."

You nodded and curtsied before you took my books from the table and left the library. You didn’t want him to see you cry, not after last night and not after this morning. It seemed as if he only ever made you cry.

You walked the halls of the castle with your books in your arms, your heels echoing in the air as you maneuvered to your shared quarters. Tears blurred your vision.

Once you entered our room, you closed the door behind you and put your books on your vanity desk before you plopped down on your bed. The bed that only you slept in. You stuffed your face in one of the pillows and just let it all out.

Curse this kingdom. Curse the war. Curse your father for giving you to Leon, a heartless man. You hated everything.

Leon watched you as you walked away, a pang of guilt in his chest at the sight of your tears as the library door closed behind you. He knew that he was being harsh with you, but he had to be. He couldn't let himself get close to you, no matter how much the part of him that wanted to comfort you grew.

He clenched his jaw and pushed down the guilt, reminding himself of the pain that you represented. The pain of the war, the pain of their families' deaths.

He turned and walked away, heading back towards the training fields.

As he entered the training grounds, Andrews noticed Leon’s conflicted expression, “Now that’s a face I haven’t seen since the war,” he pointed out as he blocked one of Leon’s attacks with his sword.

Leon grunted as Andrews blocked his attack, his expression hardening once again as he lunged forward with a flurry of attacks.

"Shut up," he said through gritted teeth, "I'm just a bit distracted, that's all."

He slashed at Andrews with his sword, the blade narrowly missing the other man's shoulder. Leon's moves were a bit more sloppy than usual, his mind still occupied with thoughts of you. Andrews, being one of Leon’s most loyal friends, knew something else was wrong with Leon. But he wasn’t going to spell it out for him.

“If you say so,” he muttered before he blocked another one of Leon’s attacks, followed by a strike against Leon’s side. Andrews was very good at fighting, being older and the captain of the castle’s defense allowed him to be the best.

Leon hissed as Andrews' sword hit his side, the impact knocking the air out of him. He stumbled back, his hand going to his side as he regained his breath, annoyance replacing the guilt he had been feeling.

"You bastard," he muttered, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Andrews. He lunged forward once again, this time going on the offensive as he swung his sword towards Andrews' chest.

Andrews raised a brow and moved to the side before he swiped his leg under Leon’s feet, watching as he fell down on the floor.

Then, Andrews knelt down and offered him a hand to stand up, “You fight with too much emotion. What’s going on?” He spoke firmly. He pulled Leon up on his feet, walking back towards the side bench and tossed Leon a water pouch.

Leon grumbled as he caught the water pouch and taking a deep draught from it. He sat down on the bench next to Andrews, his hands resting on his knees as he looked at the ground.

"It's... complicated," he said finally, his voice low.

He paused, not wanting to admit what he was feeling, but he knew Andrews wouldn't give up that easily. He was a stubborn bastard.

After taking a swig from his own water pouch, Andrews rested his forearms on his knees, leaning forward as he glanced at Leon.

“Complicated?” he muttered as he straightened up and took another swig. He then put his pouch down on the bench and looked back at Leon.

“It’s only complicated if you give it too much thought,” Andrews said.

Leon let out a scoff, rolling his eyes.

"Easy for you to say," he muttered, "You're not the one who married someone you're supposed to hate."

He clenched his jaw, his hands gripping his knees tightly. The memory of your tear-streaked face came back to him, and he felt that damn pang of guilt again.

"You don't know what it's like," he said, his voice low and bitter.

Andrews hummed and nodded slowly, “Supposed to,” he repeated in a mutter before he turned his head to look at the other soldiers sparring.

“I don’t know what it’s like to be married to someone I hate,” Andrews spoke after a few seconds of silence, “but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t understand what it’s like to see it.”

“The lady…” he spoke slowly, “I’ve only ever met her once back when she first moved in,” Andrews chuckled at the memory, “Poor lady was lost roaming around the castle she ended up here and nearly got her head caught off.”

Leon couldn’t help but chuckle slightly at the memory as well. He himself hadn’t been there when you had wandered into the training grounds, but he had heard all about it from the knights.

“Yeah, she’s not exactly the most observant,” he muttered, his voice laced with a hint of affection, though he quickly bit down on his tongue to stop himself. He looked up at Andrews, his expression turning slightly bitter again.

"What are you getting at?" he asked, his voice guarded.

Andrews sighed and looked at Leon, “What I’m trying to say is,” he muttered softly, “the princess came from far away, ripped from her home and she obviously doesn’t know things about this place.”

“You can’t expect her to know everything. She’s…alone,” he muttered and looked back at the knights sparring, “Put yourself in her shoes. You’re being wedded to someone from the enemy kingdom and you’re being sent to foreign terrain where you know absolutely nothing about. And turns out your partner hates you and you don’t even know why, see what I’m trying to say?”

“She didn’t start the war but she helped you finish it. That’s a sacrifice not many are willing to make,” Andrews said before he took a swig of his water pouch.

Leon's jaw clenched as he listened to Andrews.

He knew what he was saying was true, but it was easier said than done. His resentment towards you ran deep, and even though he knew you weren't responsible for the war, he couldn't help but feel resentment towards you by association.

"I know," he mumbled, his voice low, "But it's not that simple. It's not just about the war. It's about everything."

He paused, his grip on his knees tightening, "It's about our families. The people we lost. It's all...complicated."

“And no one says it’ll ever be easy,” Andrews continued, “but you haven’t given her a chance to adapt. She doesn’t have anyone. She’s alone in a place where she’s hated, it’s a surprise she’s made it this long without begging her father to go back home.”

Andrews sighed and looked at Leon, “No one is telling you to forgive and forget. The war was scarring and many lives were lost. But to blame it all on the lady who doesn’t know a thing about swords seems very wrong to me.”

He then put his hand on Leon’s shoulder in a friendly manner, “At the end of the day, she isn’t your enemy. She never will be and she can’t. She’s here.”

Leon let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He knew, deep down, that Andrews was right. You hadn't started the war, and you had no control over the actions of the king. But the feelings of anger and resentment towards you were still there, rooted deep within him. He couldn't just turn them off, no matter how much he wanted to.

He looked over at Andrews, his expression conflicted, "What do you want me to do?" he asked, his voice low.

Andrews hummed, it wasn’t easy to just get rid of your anger overnight. It wasn’t possible but it also didn’t mean that you’d never get rid of it.

“Do what’s right. Start by seeing her for who she is and not just a person from her kingdom. She’s her own person just like how you are more than just the crown prince,” Andrews said, he was always a good friend. Wise and always knew what to say to Leon.

“It won’t be easy,” Andrews said before he stood up and stretched, “it takes time but it’ll be worth it.”

Leon clenched his jaw, his eyes staring down at the ground as Andrews spoke. He knew his friend was right, but it was easier said than done.

"I'll try," he mumbled finally, his voice strained.

He stood up, his shoulders feeling heavy with the weight of his thoughts. He knew he needed to push down those negative feelings and start seeing you for who you were.

As Andrews stretched, Leon looked at him, "Thanks, Andrews," he muttered, "For always being a pain in my ass."

Andrews chuckled and gently bumped Leon’s shoulder, “The price to pay when you’re friends with me, eh?”

For the rest of the evening, training went well. The sun had started to set, and you were walking around the halls of the castle by yourself, admiring the paintings on the walls.

It wouldn’t be easy, like Andrews said, but it was better to start seeing you in your own light instead of just generalizing you. You didn’t know a thing about swords and fighting, much less about war.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Empire Ashes (mobster steve rogers)

Summary: the pair of you watch as his empire burns to the ground, vowing to destroy the enemy.

WC: 73

Warnings: mafia au,angst, smoking

Read on Ao3!

--

The city lights flickered through the haze of cigarette smoke and street fog, casting an eerie glow on the world below. It was after midnight, but the streets of New York never truly slept. Not the way you knew them. Not the way Steve Rogers knew them. The underbelly of the city was alive and thriving, pulsing with the dangerous energy of gangs, crime lords, and power grabs.

You stood beside Steve on the rooftop of one of the tallest buildings downtown, looking out at the kingdom of corruption that sprawled beneath you. His jaw was clenched tight, his blue eyes cold and calculating as he surveyed the world he had fought to control for years. It was his city now—his empire—but the crown felt heavier by the day.

"I told you this would happen," you said, lighting a cigarette and taking a slow drag. "The Starks... they won’t stop until they tear us apart from the inside."

Steve didn’t respond right away. He was too focused, too consumed by the storm brewing within him. His hands were buried deep in the pockets of his tailored black coat, but you could sense the tension in his body, the barely-contained rage that simmered just below the surface.

He’d been different since the Stark family had made their move. They’d hit one of his warehouses and killed men who had sworn loyalty to him. It wasn’t just a power play—it was a declaration of war.

Finally, he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "They think they can take this from me." He laughed, a humorless, bitter sound. "They think they can burn it all down."

You stepped closer to him, flicking the cigarette away and folding your arms across your chest. "So what’s the plan, Rogers? You going to let them bleed you dry, or are you going to do something about it?"

Steve turned to you then, his expression hard, but there was a flicker of something else—something darker, something more feral. "I didn’t build this empire just to watch it crumble. I gave everything for this city." His voice dropped lower, more menacing. "If they want a war, I’ll give them one."

A thrill ran through you at his words. You had seen Steve Rogers at his most ruthless, his most unforgiving, but there was something about him now, something that felt different. This wasn’t just a retaliation—it was a declaration of dominance. The man who had risen from nothing was ready to tear it all down just to prove that no one could take from him what he had earned.

"Let’s burn this city to the ground," you whispered, the words filled with a dark excitement that mirrored his own.

Steve’s gaze snapped to yours, and for a moment, everything else fell away. The weight of the city, the war on the streets, the blood on his hands—it all seemed distant as he focused on you, the one person who had been by his side through it all.

A slow, dangerous smile spread across his lips. "You’re not scared of what happens next?" he asked, his voice low, a challenge in his tone.

You shook your head, stepping closer, your eyes never leaving his. "I’m not scared of anything as long as I’m with you."

There was a silence between you, the tension thick in the air. You’d been drawn to Steve’s darkness from the moment you met him, and now, standing beside him at the brink of a full-scale war, you knew you’d follow him anywhere.

Steve reached out, pulling you close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Then let’s show them who really owns this city."

The next few hours were a blur of action. Orders were given, calls made, alliances tested. Steve moved like a man possessed, every step calculated, every decision ruthless. He wasn’t just playing defense anymore—he was going on the attack.

And you were right there beside him, his shadow, his partner in crime, watching as the city began to buckle under the weight of his wrath.

As the first explosion rocked the city in the distance, a fiery glow lighting up the skyline, you couldn’t help the smile that crept across your face.

"You weren’t kidding," you said, your voice barely audible over the chaos.

Steve smirked, his eyes reflecting the flames that began to engulf the city. "I never do."

--

tags

EVERYTHING PERM: @nekoannie-chan @kjs-s @notyourtypicalrose @mistressofallthingsgeeky

MARVEL PERM: @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @late-to-the-party-81 @capsthot @endlesstwanted @kenzieam @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes

STEVE ROGERS: @nicoline1998enilocin @amelia-song-pond @hallecarey1 @libbymouse @fandom-princess-forevermore @animal-feather @saiilorstars

[florencemtrash]

Flame, Shadow, Beast : Beast I

Azriel x Reader x Eris

Summary: Years after Eris frees you from his father’s prison, you’ve managed to find a new love, new friends, and build a life for yourself in Autumn. But when a certain Shadowsinger stumbles upon your home, dragging in painful memories of betrayal and longing, you’ll have to face the things you left in the past and make choices about the future you want.

Warnings: Some Inner Circle slander. Angst... like a lot of it. And a family dinner that goes horribly wrong.

Flame, Shadow, Beast: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

Bryaxis left you to find Eris. You were sure of it. 

That is good, you thought, as you wiped away your tears and picked yourself off the floor. 

If Azriel was able to enter Autumn unnoticed, you’d both need to reevaluate the security around Forest House and send a strong message to Rhysand that your thin alliance did not mean Azriel was permitted to enter and leave at will. 

You swallowed your tears and collected your breath just as Eris rushed into the house like a tornado, scooping you up in his arms and searching you over with frantic eyes.

“I’m alright, Eris.” You murmured into his soft hair, breathing in his scent and finding it eased your aching heart, “He didn’t hurt me.” 

Bryaxis followed in behind the High Lord, gave you both a nod and ran out again, this time in the form of a falcon. He was going to make good on your promise. If Azriel wasn’t out of Autumn by now he was as good as dead.

“Physically, you mean.” Eris said, lowering you to the floor and pulling you close.

You sighed, leaning against him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I worry about you in all ways, Y/n. But I confess, if he was able to best you in a fight I’d be surprised. I’d bet my money on you any day.”

You laughed without humor. Your mind went to business, as it always did when you wanted to ignore your true feelings. 

“We should talk about defenses. I don’t like that he was able to enter Autumn unnoticed. Did you feel anything at all? Any disturbance?”

Eris’s jaw tightened. He knew what you were doing and wanted to take the time to talk through what you were feeling. But the look in your eyes told him now was not a good time. 

He shook his head, “Azriel’s powers have always been clouded in mystery. My father spent years trying to keep him out. Clearly he wasn’t successful.”

“Once Bryaxis is back, I’ll ask that he keep guard - at least for a short time. Spread his power out over the borders. He’s built from the same darkness that seeps out from the Night Court and might have a better chance of sensing when things are wrong.”

And so are you. You crawled out of that darkness and survived. Eris’s eyes said, but you didn’t like to dwell on that truth often. 

Years spent as Beron’s prisoner had changed you - made you more like the Shadowsinger than you cared to admit. Frustratingly it hadn’t made you any better at sensing when he was in your house and in your court.

“Good. I’ll speak to Halvor about increasing the guards posted around Forest House and the borders. We’ll keep it discreet and have Halvor winnow them.”

“And check for any missing guardsmen. He was wearing Autumn Court armor and either had to have stolen it or had it made himself.” You held out the patch of leather in your hand, discretely cut from the folds of his hood when you’d been speaking. Large enough for Myrah to scry with.

“It’s a good start.” Eris said, smoothing back the wrinkles in your forehead that came from irritation. He pressed his lips to your forehead, murmuring, “Talk to me, my love. And not about business this time.” 

Your fists clenched and unclenched, anger brewing inside of you. But not all of it was directed at the Shadowsinger.

“I just-” You huffed, “I didn’t know he was here. I didn’t sense him. I thought the next time I saw him it would be on my own terms. That I’d be more prepared.” You kicked at the ground, sending one of your abandoned knives skittering across the floor, “Instead I froze.”

“Bryaxis didn’t seem to think so. He told me he’s never seen you punch anyone that hard.” You frowned at him, but the pride and satisfaction that twinkled in his eyes melted away some of your sadness, like the first rays of spring on winter frost.

You dropped your gaze to the floor, “He said he and Rhysand were the only ones to know about the deal.” Flames flared to life in his eyes, like someone had shone a light through amber stones. “He asked to visit with the others. In Autumn.” 

Eris nodded slowly, carefully. He didn’t like this, didn’t like this at all. 

“Is that what you want? To see them again?”

You missed some of them more than others. You missed Cassian’s boyish humor, Nesta’s blunt honesty, Feyre’s love for all things creative, and the bright light that Mor seemed to carry around with her as easily as a torch. You even missed Amren, who’d come to tolerate you well enough in the few years you’d spent with the Inner Circle. 

But Rhysand and Azriel… You would have missed them the most if not for what they’d done. Rhysand who you’d once seen as a brother, and Azriel, who you could have fallen in love with so easily if he hadn’t constantly pined over other females. Perhaps you had fallen in love with him at one point. Maybe that’s why it hurt so badly to see him again.

“I…I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to make the decision now.” Eris said, tilting your chin up with gentle fingers, “But I would like to ask you one thing.”

“Since when do you ever ask for things?” You said, trying to lighten up your spirits by toying with your lover.

He shook his head, “I am a very greedy male. I ask for many things from you - your time, your love, your attention.” 

“And what would you like to ask for now?” 

Eris hesitated.

“For you to move to the Forest House. Today. I’ll send for the rest of your things in the morning.” 

“Today?”

“Today.” You looked around the house. It had steadily been emptying the last two months, coming with you to the Forest House in bits and pieces as your once nonexistent visits to Court became more and more regular. It was all part of the plan to introduce you to Court life and prepare you for the role you’d one day take at Eris’s side.

“I thought you wanted to take time. Prepare things better-”

“I know. I know that was the plan. But I’d feel infinitely better with you under the roof of Forest House with me… with me.”

“Azriel doesn’t know about us yet. The other courts don’t know.” You said. 

Eris had always been so careful, so cautious concerning you, paying the townspeople for their silence, spreading rumors of visiting pleasure houses and flirting with the bolder females in court to disguise the one person who warmed his bed. You didn’t want him to feel rushed.

“I know.” Eris steeled himself. The scars on his back flexed uncomfortably, pulling and stretching at his flesh with memories of the past, “I don’t want to be afraid of that anymore.” He said, “I’ve lived in fear my whole life, unable to protect the ones I love. You know this. I can do it now, with you standing next to me.”

“I just… I want to make sure you’re not doing this against your will because of what happened today.” You said it sincerely. Eris was all about plans and safety and heavily disliked straying from them.

Eris froze and then laughed, a full-bodied laugh that shook his sturdy frame and surprised you.

“What did I say?” You asked. When he didn’t answer, continuing to laugh, you slapped his shoulder, “What did I say?! Tell me!”

“Oh, my love.” He sighed, stealing a kiss, “I’m not asking you to come home with me because of the meddlings of another court. I’m asking you because I want you there.” 

You blushed furiously, color flooding into your cheeks.

“Don’t look so surprised.” He said.

“I’m not surprised! We’ve talked about this.”

“We have! We’ve talked about this in great detail.” You glanced around the room. It had stopped feeling like home some time ago. Home was where Eris was.

“Today?”

“Yes.”

“As in right now.” 

“Well I would give you time to pack whatever you think you’ll need for the next day. I’m not a brute.” 

It was your turn to laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him fiercely on the lips. He tasted like cinnamon and cloves. 

You packed a small bag of your most treasured belongings - few in number as most had already been brought to the Forest House - and then you were off. Bryaxis would find you wherever you were and you would be able to sense if anything was wrong with him. Even now you felt his power near the borders of Autumn where he prowled about on his mission. But Azriel was long gone from the Autumn Court.

The Forest House was bustling with energy when you arrived, fae of all shapes and sizes bowing to you and Eris, carrying baskets of bread, honeysuckle, walnuts, and pumpkins against their hips to bring to the kitchens. 

Myrah, Halvor, and Aurelia - The Lady of Autumn - were there to greet you.

Myrah bowed deeper than the rest, grinning from ear to ear as she took your belongings and ran them to your room. She had served Lady Aurelia dutifully as a blademaiden for over fifty years, and now she would serve you with just as much fervor.

“My Lady.” You said, bowing your head. 

Aurelia’s scarlet hair and amber eyes were a twin to Eris’s and she smiled at you with a light that had never fully dimmed during her marriage to Beron. Lucien might have been her favored son - the one born out of love and passion - but Eris was the most like her in appearance and she thanked the Mother for that every day.

“I’ll have none of that.” Aurelia said, grasping you by the arm and forcing you to stand upright. She ran her thumbs over your cheeks before dipping her head towards her son and leading you away for a proper meal and rest.

So it went for the next few months. You dove into your court duties during the day, attending meetings with Eris and Aurelia, court dinners, and pouring over reports by the warm light of the fires that filled every room in the Forest House. Your evenings were dedicated to your research in the libraries with Bryaxis curled up comfortably in your lap. And your nights were filled with Eris, whispered words under satin covers, hands resting comfortably against your back and thighs, silken strands of red hair between your fingers.

You ignored the letters that arrived on your desk from the Night Court for as long as you could. Nesta had even made her way through Winter to visit you in person, only to be turned away at the border personally by Myrah. 

That had been the call for you to finally invite them to dinner at the Autumn Court.

The blademaiden, soft and swift as wind and more resilient than iron, brushed through your hair carefully, weaving thin leaves of gold into the braids until your hair gleamed when it caught the light.

Bryaxis was partial to her, puffing his chest out from his seat on the vanity until Myrah stopped her work to give him a quick kiss on his little black head.

“I think you might be his favorite person.” You quipped, smiling at her through the mirror as Bryaxis continued to sit ramrod straight, waiting for another display of affection. Myrah obliged, scratching him behind his ears as he closed his eyes and rumbled in satisfaction. 

“Pffft. Everyone knows he’d go mad if you so much as chipped a tooth.”

“Teeth are important! It’s less impressive when you snarl at enemies with a gap in your teeth.” 

Myrah snorted, finishing your hair and wrapping her arms carefully around you. Her hair was similarly arranged with silver instead of gold to better match her gray-blonde hair and steel gray eyes. She looked like the thunderclouds that rolled over the hills before rain. 

You patted her arm before moving over to the full length mirror, carved from a single slab of wood to look like birds in flight. Your breath caught in your throat. The wine-red dress hung from your frame as light as air, threaded with black and gold around the careful beadwork so that you rustled with light and energy. You looked otherworldly.

Myrah brought her hands to her lips, glowing with pride and happiness. For years she’d seen Lady Aurelia wilt and endure. It was good to know you would not suffer the same fate. She’d sooner die than let anything happen to you. Even Bryaxis was impressed with your appearance, shifting between shadow and flesh as he regarded you with a molten eye.

A knock on the door drew your eyes away from your reflection. Aurelia stepped inside with an ornate wooden box in her slender hands, looking like a living flame and crossing the room on light and even steps.

“How are you feeling, my dear?” She asked gently, putting the box down and taking your hands in hers. Myrah bowed and took her leave, taking up her position outside the door. The folds of her skirt concealed a gleaming silver sword and no shortage of other weapons. 

Bryaxis also followed, rubbing against Aurelia’s ankle with a gentle purr as went.

You took a deep breath after the door shut.

“Nervous.” You said honestly, “More than I would like to be.”

“That’s understandable.” Aurelia said, surveying the curve of your dress, your neck, and ears and nodding. “You look powerful. Myrah did well. Not that you needed the help.” She whispered the last few words like a secret, as if concerned the female outside would overhear and find offense. 

You smiled.

“But, I think you’re missing a few elements.” 

You blinked, smoothing your skirts and looking around. You hadn’t thought you were missing anything.

Aurelia opened the box, compartments springing outward like the unfurling of alocasia leaves. Rows upon rows of jewelry, some delicate and some that weighed as heavy as stones, were laid out neatly. 

You blushed furiously.

“Eris didn’t-I mean this is too much”

Aurelia tipped her head back in laughter, hair swaying across her graceful back like the flickering of candlelight against a window. 

“Now that you are here I am sure Eris will spare no expense. But these are from me.” 

With patience and a careful hand she helped you pick out a thin pair of bracelets that snaked up your arm like the veins of a riverbed, golden cuffs that accentuated the length of your ears, and finally a dainty necklace of amber and gold.

“This one looks different from the others.” You said, tracing the thin chain against your chest, “It’s beautiful.” 

Aurelia smiled, a quiet sadness in her eyes. “It wasn't made in Autumn.”

“Where was it-” You paused. A knowing look passed between you two. “I understand.”

The clock chimed. A gentle ring that made your heart beat faster. It was time. The Night Court would have arrived already - if they decided to be punctual that was. 

“I suppose it’s time.” You said, offering your arm to the Lady of Autumn. 

“One more thing.” She said, grasping your shoulders so you stood face to face. The crown glittered in her hair - a thin band of gold from which grew garlands of paper thin flowers and maple leaves interwoven with redwood. It was said to have been made by one of Autumn’s Old Gods, a powerful relic that spoke of traditions past that the people still honored.

It rested on your head now, laid there by Aurelia’s slender hands.

“Perfect.” She said with a smile, tilting your head up with two fingers beneath your chin.

“I can’t-I can’t wear this.” 

“You can, and you will. Your Lady commands it.” She took your hand in hers, squeezing it with all the love of a mother, and led you out the door.

Myrah was vibrating with excitement and kept stealing glances as the crown on your head. Bryaxis curled up around her shoulders as she trailed after you and the Lady of Autumn. 

Eris and Halvor were already waiting by the steps to the great hall - Halvor in his general attire, and Eris looking like the heart of Autumn in a resplendent suit of bronze, gold, and scarlet. He stilled when you approached, eyes darting to the crown in your hair and softening. His mother only nodded, giving you both her silent blessing.

“You look beautiful.” He murmured as you took his arm.

“As do you.” 

Halvor coughed and Myrah rolled her eyes.

“You also look wonderful, Halvor.” You said, shaking your head with laughter.

He bowed deeply, “Thank you, My Lady.” 

You blushed. With the Lady of Autumn’s crown resting in your hair and the unofficial title rolling off Halvor’s tongue like it was the most natural thing in the world, it all felt like too much. 

Eris squeezed your hand in reassurance, flashing you one last smile before he would have to let the mask of the High Lord slide over his face. 

“Ready?”

You nodded. “Ready.” 

You descended the steps, Aurelia and Myrah (and Bryaxis) to your right and Halvor to Eris’s left. They were the beginnings of a proper court. An Inner Circle of their own. Eris swallowed the emotion, the gratefulness for everyone who stood with him, for another time. 

Still, he was looking at you when you all made your appearance and the Night Court’s conversations died in the air. 

Nesta, Cassian, Mor, Feyre, and Azriel all stood to one side of the table. Cut from the trunk of an ancient elder tree, the rings spoke of the passage of two thousand years. You felt insignificant in the face of all of that history, gripping Eris’s arm for reassurance as you led the way down the last flight of stairs. 

“Welcome to Autumn Court.” Eris said, voice cold and emotionless as he swept his arm out to the side and dipped his head ever so slightly. Everyone in the room followed suit… everyone except you. You weren’t going to waste a single moment on pleasantries when you could drink in the sight of your old family… if they had ever even been your family.

Nesta noticed, never taking her eyes off of you as she searched you head to toe, lingering on the glittering crown on your head with barely concealed surprise. 

The sight of it was a dagger through Azriel’s heart, twisting and turning without mercy as Eris placed his hand at the small of your back. Protective, cautious, and ready to winnow you away at the first sign of trouble. 

It should have been him standing beside you. 

Rhysand was conspicuously absent as you’d expected. There was no way he’d drag the core members of the Inner Circle to Autumn and leave Velaris vulnerable. But perhaps it was better this way.

“Y/n.” Nesta said, breaking the awkward silence that followed. Her voice came out strangled with grief.

You blinked in surprise at the emotion in her voice. There was a hollowness beneath her eyes where dark shadows gathered, thinly covered with makeup to make them less noticeable. 

Your teeth ground together to hide the trembling in your lips. 

Nesta. Beautiful, sharp, and terrifying Nesta. Nesta who you’d dragged home from bars, stumbling and wasted. Nesta who you’d screamed at and cried with. Nesta who would never, ever let anything happen to the ones she cared about. 

“Nesta.” You said carefully. You looked at Eris and he gave you an almost imperceptible nod. 

Go on. This is for you. His eyes said. 

You let go of his arm, stepping forward like a boat slipped off its mooring. 

“Cass,” He smiled at you, warmth flooding his chest when you still used his nickname. 

“Feyre,” Her eyes glittered with starlight.

“Mor,” She let out a shaky breath.

You steeled yourself for the last, familiar face.

“Azriel.” He stood there, still as stone while his heart raged inside him.

“It’s… it’s good to see you all again.” The words flowed out of your mouth more easily than you’d expected and you found there was a great deal of truth to your words. 

The last you’d heard, Feyre was suspected to have given birth to another child - a girl this time. The gentle roundness of her figure and glow of her smile confirmed it. And Nesta and Cassian had married, twin rings of silver flashing on their fingers. Marriage was insignificant in the face of the bond they shared, but you were happy for them nevertheless. And Mor… Mor was as bold as ever, daring to race across the room and gather you up in her arms in a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.” She gasped, burying her face into your hair and breathing in your familiar scent. 

You stiffened in her arms.

Halvor’s arm shot out in front of Myrah, her hand hidden in the gathers of her skirt and resting on the knife strapped to her thigh. She was a coiled spring, ready to launch herself at anyone who dared touch you. It wasn’t until you slowly relaxed and returned Mor’s embrace that Myrah allowed herself to loosen, flashing a scowl in Halvor’s direction. He only smirked and winked at her.

“We didn’t know. Please believe me. Please come home.” Mor whispered the words for you and you alone. 

Come home.

You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply before peeling the female off of you. You didn’t try to ignore the pain or betrayal that flashed in her eyes when you stepped away and floated back to Eris’s side. 

“Please, sit.” You tapped Eris’s arm and with a snap of his fingers, mountains of food appeared on the table in front of you. Any other day your mouth would be watering at the sight, but today your stomach only clenched with nerves as you and Eris took your seats at the head of the table.

Feyre and Mor sat across from you at the other end, Azriel to their right and seated next to Aurelia and Myrah, and Nesta and Cassian to their left. The Lord of Bloodshed scowled at Halvor, who only smirked and dropped into the seat beside him. 

If anyone wanted to attack their High Lord and Lady, they’d have to tear through Halvor and Myrah to do it.

Aurelia was a blessing as always, pushing the conversation through the usual, pleasant motions even when tension hung thick in the air. 

How do you do it? You wondered, as she managed to draw a quiet laugh from Feyre’s lips. 

The High Lady of the Night Court wore a deep, wine red dress so dark it was nearly black. Only the warm light flickering from the three fireplaces and the faelight chandeliers dangling overhead hinted at the color of the fabric. Somehow you knew it was Feyre’s way of showing her support for you. 

She was shocked, as was everyone, when you’d appeared at the steps looking every bit like a High Lady beside Eris. And the love in his gaze hadn’t been lost on her. He looked at you the same way Rhys looked at her.

“How long have you been living here?” Feyre finally asked gently. 

You’d hardly touched the roasted quail and walnuts in front of you, carefully following the conversation and wondering who would be the first to ask you the questions they were all dying to know the answers to. You weren’t making things easy for them, sitting on your small throne of cedar and gold that was the twin to Eris’s seat and looking as impassible and aloof as a bronze sculpture.

Everyone’s eyes focused on you. Eris shifted ever so slightly in his seat, angling his body towards you and leaning on his hand with a carefully crafted expression of boredom on his beautiful face. 

“Eight years. Almost nine now.” You said, swallowing a bite of food with difficulty. The Inner Circle froze, the sounds of singing cutlery falling silent.

“Eight years?” Cassian said, his face paleing. 

Nesta’s grip on her fork and knife tightened, knuckles turning white as the silverware struggled not to bend. 

“We didn’t hear you were alive until four months ago. If we’d known…” Feyre’s voice faltered.

“You would have visited sooner? Don’t bother yourself with that. I didn’t want you to know. I wanted to be left alone.” 

Azriel seemed to shrink in his seat when you said that. After all, he’d helped set this all into motion. 

“So what changed?” Mor asked, almost accusingly. It was the first time she’d spoken since embracing you and the sting of your rejection hadn’t dissipated over dinner. “You’ve moved into the Forest House. Been seen at court. With him. If you want to be left alone, to stay hidden, you’re doing a terrible job of it.”

Before Eris could spit back a reply, Halvor growled threateningly, banging the table with his fist. “I’d watch my tone if I were you.” He said as smoke rose from between his fingers. 

If it was any other court they were dining with, Eris would have warned Halvor to control his temper. As it was, he only gave a minor nod of approval to his brother. There were many things they disagreed on, but one thing was certain - they’d both protect you to their last breath.

“You’re being awfully silent, Eris.” Mor spit out, completely ignoring Halvor and Eris’s rightful title. 

“Mor.” Feyre hissed in warning. 

Your eyes turned dark.

Eris swirled the wine in his goblet, taking a careful sip and making a point of looking languid and unimpressed. 

“I don’t have anything to say.” He paused, “Actually, that’s a lie. I have much I would like to say to you. Choice words that your precious Inner Circle wouldn’t appreciate hearing.” He looked at you, eyes softening as he downed the rest of his wine, “But tonight’s not about me.” 

“Y/n.” Mor said, half in anger and half in desperation, “Stop this and come home. You don’t belong here.” 

“And why should you have a say in where she belongs?” Myrah said. Her normally soft and lilting voice was low and deadly, “You were the ones who abandoned her in our court to die. Does the story sound familiar to you, Morrigan?” 

“Mor,” Cassian and Feyre both reached for her hands, but she ripped out of their hold, standing up with an ugly groan of her chair as it was sent toppling backwards. 

Her chest heaved with fury, fingers twitching for a weapon that wasn’t there. 

Myrah matched her anger, knife sliding into her hand with ease as she pointed it at the blond-haired female across the table, “Who’s the villain now? Or will you do what you’ve always done and blame it on my High Lord?”

The tension in the room finally snapped.

Mor screamed in fury, launching herself across the table. Before Myrah could land the first blow - a wild glee in her eyes - Azriel leapt up from his seat. He angled himself in between the two females, wrapping his arms around Mor’s waist and pulling her away as she continued to fight back and scream bloody murder. 

Feyre’s jaw clenched, slamming against Mor’s mental shields. Her commands to stop fell on deaf ears.

“You bitch! I’m going to kill you!” 

Myrah beckoned her forward, daring Mor to try. 

At some point in the chaos of it all, Bryaxis had changed form, taking on the shape of a bear and climbing onto the table beside Halvor. Cassian pushed Nesta behind him, his already pale face blanching further as he recognized the monster that bared its teeth at him and his mate. 

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” You slammed your hands against the table and stood up, your powers exploding outward in a rush of darkness and dampening the powers of everyone in the room. Everyone except Eris.

He stood up slowly and moved to stand behind you, one hand resting on your waist. His touch grounded you.

He’d felt your power before. He understood it. And he would not stand in the way of it. He would not stand in the way of you. 

And he would not let you stand alone.

Mor stilled in Azriel’s arms, gasping as the suffocating nature of your power lifted off of her. Everyone slowly recoiled back into their seats. 

Bryaxis returned to your side, inky eyes surveying the scene like a hawk.

“I invited you here so you would know that I am safe and well and happy. Not so you could insult and threaten my family. If you want to continue like this, you may as well save us the trouble and leave.” 

Mor took in a shaky breath, face hidden behind her golden blond curls, and went silent. 

“You should have told us.” There was no saving this evening, and Nesta finally took the opportunity to say her piece. “You should have told us you were alive. We would never have left you here alone. We would have brought you home.” 

“Don’t you dare, Nesta.” You seethed, “Don’t you dare make me out to be some traitor. I never told Beron anything. No matter what he did to me. No matter what he threatened to do. I never betrayed you.” 

Nesta’s eyes were two thin chips of ice and the knife she’d kept in her hand snapped in two, clattering to the floor. But the cold anger she harbored in her heart was not aimed at you. 

“We didn’t know.” She said, “I nearly killed Azriel and Rhysand when I found out what they’d done.” 

Azriel flexed his shoulders, feeling the memory of Nesta’s blade stabbing through the scar there. She’d aimed for his heart. It was only because Cassian intervened that he’d been spared. Now he wished her aim had been true, maybe then he would have been spared the look of heartbreak on your face now. 

“What kind of an excuse is that?! If Beron had asked for anyone else in the Inner Circle none of you would have dared to even entertain the idea of a trade to get Elain back.”

“There was no other choice.” Mor said weakly, trying her best to defend Azriel as he had always defended her. 

The mighty Shadowsinger looked like death next to her. Still and empty.

He’d never been quite the same after handing you off to Beron. When Elain had been returned to their family safe and sound and curled up in his arms, it wasn’t the joyous reunion they’d been hoping for. 

Azriel had left a piece of himself behind with you, something he’d never managed to get back.

“THERE’S ALWAYS ANOTHER CHOICE!” 

The rage and heartbreak stirred within you. Never gone. Never forgotten. Only contained. 

“You would have gone to the ends of the earth to protect your own. You would have burned the world to the ground rather than agree to a trade of lives.” 

Your eyes narrowed in on the High Lady, someone you’d once respected and would have died for.

“Feyre. What would you have done? Hmmm? What would you have done if Beron asked for Mor, or Cassian, or gods forbid Nyx in return for Elain?”

Feyre’s confidence faltered, the mask of the High Lady cracking and splintering under your forceful gaze.

“What would you have done?”

“I… I would have-” Her voice broke, “I would have given myself or died trying to find another way. I never… I never would have done what we did to you.” 

“I would have done it.” You whispered. “If that’s what you’d asked of me. If that’s what needed to be done, I would have gone to Beron willingly to help you.” 

Eris closed his eyes at the admission. It burned him to see you like this. Pieces of his heart cracking along with yours. He wanted nothing more than to winnow you away from this place. From these people.

“It was my fault.” Azriel said, stepping into your line of sight and hiding his High Lady behind him. His hazel eyes bore into yours, begging you to listen to him. “I was the one who told Rhys to agree to the trade. I was the one who convinced him not to tell anyone until it was too late. If you are to blame or hate anyone, blame me. Hate me.” 

Your lips trembled, eyes burning with unshed tears as you took in shaky gulps of air. You should have hated him. You should have wanted to bury him beneath the force of your power, steal away his breath, and kill him where he stood. And with the way he looked at you, propped up by longing and shame and hope, you knew he would let you. 

If you pulled out a sword, he’d kneel down and bend his neck forward. If you tackled him to the floor and beat him bloody, he’d smile to have you so close to him again.

It was a terrible, unfortunate thing that the fiercest kinds of hate existed only a hair’s width away from the fiercest kinds of love. Because the truth was you didn’t hate him. No matter how much you’d convinced yourself that you hated him, it wasn’t true. You loved him. And that was a far, far worse thing.

The bond snapped into place for you so suddenly, so much like a blow to your chest that you stumbled back, crashing into Eris’s solid form as he wrapped his arms around you. It burned in the deepest parts of your soul, filling you with a warmth and light that should have comforted you but instead only made you cower.

“No.” You gasped, curling into Eris’s chest and ignoring the looks of horror from everyone in the room. 

Azriel was kneeling on the floor, one scarred hand clutching his chest as he felt the fullness of the bond rear its mighty head. 

It was everything that he had ever wanted. He could feel you on the other side of the bond as naturally as he felt his own being and you were bright and warm and lovely and fierce. You were more overwhelming than a winter storm. More devastating than an earthquake.

He thought he was going mad. He wanted to kill Eris for holding you like that - for holding his mate. But… you looked so scared. Scared of him. 

“No. No. No no no no no no.” You repeated over and over again, burying your face into Eris’s shoulder as Aurelia flew to your side, murmuring words into your ear that you couldn’t register.

“Y/n.” Azriel’s shadows were flying around him now, reaching out to you and desperately sliding up your arms and legs. Through the bond you felt it all - his shame, his self-hatred, his longing... His love.

Your power shot out in a wall around you at the same time that your mental shield slammed closed on the bond. His shadows beat back against your power and against the barrier you’d placed around your mind. You could still feel him there at the edges, begging to be let in. 

 The table shook and groaned, bottles of wine tipping over and crashing into waves of red over the floor as Cassian, Nesta, Mor, and Feyre slid backwards. 

Azriel stood his ground as best he could, half-crawling towards you against the whirlwind of your power. You faintly heard him roar your name over the sounds of the room tipping and turning. 

You were afraid to look at Eris. The one who’d given you a home. The one who’d promised you the world by his side. The one you loved and the one who loved you more than anything. 

Eris held your clinging form to him, fire exploding from around him and wrapping around his family members in a protective circle as Feyre, Cassian, and the rest called out to you, begging you to listen to them.

“Get out.” He roared. You trembled in his arms, clutching him tighter, but his words were not for you. “Get out of my house. Get out of my court or I swear to the Mother I will burn you where you stand.” 

His words, dangerous and unyielding, echoed throughout the room. 

Cassian pulled Nesta to his chest. 

“Nes, we need to go. Nes… She doesn’t want us here.” 

Every part of her being screamed at her not to leave you again, but Cassian was right. You didn’t want them here anymore. So after one last look at you, she took her husband’s hand and disappeared without a trace. 

Tears streamed down Mor’s face as she and Feyre shook Azriel, murmuring to him to get up. He stared, slack jawed and unrecognizable as he looked at you with more feeling in his expression than anyone had thought him capable of, silently begging at you to look at him, just once.

Feyre shook her head at Mor, grabbed him by the shoulders, and winnowed them all away. 

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

This was a really tough chapter for me to write because I wanted to get the nuances of all the characters correct and give everyone their own 'moment' during the dinner scene.

I want to make clear that I really like Nesta and Mor as characters and just because I write them be more 'hostile' towards Reader and just because Myrah attacks Mor and invalidates her past trauma does not mean I dislike them or have any hate for them.

*(And by 'Myrah' I mean me because... you know... I wrote the damn thing)

They're both complicated characters and I don't always condone the actions of the characters/versions of characters I write. It's just part of the fanfiction writing process that sometimes characters you have a lot of love and respect for have to become the antagonist in another person's storyline.

I just wanted to leave a note about that because I think Nesta and Mor get a lot of unfair hate from readers and I don't agree with that.

Thanks for reading and thanks for listening to my Ted Talk.

Love,

Florence B.

P.S. I know this chapter is pretty long (I think it's 6,000+ words) but I didn't want to disrupt the momentum by breaking up the chapter. Forgive me. Or don't.

Taglist: @nightless @mmb-09 @thesnugglingduck @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kemillyfreitas @logankemaek @the-sweet-psycho @a-frog-with-a-laptop @flameandshadowx @applerubyy @esposadomd @imma-too-many-fandoms @bubybubsters @kalulakunundrum @chasing-autumns-chill

[justwinginglife]

Hi! I absolutely loveeeee your writing!!! Hopefully you’re still doing requests hehe…

Maybe reader and Hoshina were childhood bffs and then the reader’s family sent her abroad (maybe to serve in another county’s defense force???) but now she’s back in Japan and assigned to the Third Division. And ofc they still make an amazing team and know each other by heart and maybeeeee some feelings start to rise now that they’re adults and all that???

HELLO I'm so happy you love my writing! Of COURSE I'm still doing requests, I'm having too much fun with everyone's prompts so thank you for sending me more suggestions!

No Matter The Distance

You were dreaming of Soshiro again. This time you recalled the memory of when you were eight and you'd tripped and scraped your knees so he carried you home on his back. You were such a crybaby back then. You nearly soaked his shoulder, sobbing from the pain. He sang to you the whole way home so you'd focus on his voice and not your bleeding knees. He surprisingly sang rather well.

"Sing to me again." You mumbled in your sleep as you rolled over onto your side. "I like when you sing... to me..."

When you woke up in the morning, he was neither singing to you nor carrying you, in fact, he wasn't even in the same country as you. It was a rude awakening every time and you still hadn't gotten used to it.

You knew it was naive of you to cling to memories from your past, but when you relived them every night it didn't seem so long ago. But now that you counted, it had been about six years since you'd seen him. You'd known each other since preschool and you'd parted ways when you both turned 18. Your parents thought you'd make a better life for yourself in America so you were shipped overseas, never to see his smiling face again.

You wondered if he dreamed about you too. You wondered if he was even the same person you remembered. It'd been over half a decade- a lot could change. You hoped he was still the same. You knew that was naive too.

You try to quit sulking and you finish getting ready for work. You clock in at 0800 and report for duty. You are surprised to find that your commanding officer has been waiting for you to arrive. She takes in the sight of you as if it's the last time she'll see you. Then she smiles. "Good morning Vice Captain."

You nod to her. "Cap'n. Mornin'. What're all the long looks for?"

Her weight shifts and she clears her throat. "Well, it seems the General has made an alliance with the Japan Anti-Kaiju Defense Force and as a show of good faith, he's sending one of our best soldiers to their side."

You raise an eyebrow. "The Director General himself? Who could be important enough from our team that he'd send so far across the seas?"

She coughs.

OH.

"Maybe, I don't know, the youngest female to make Vice Captain in the shortest amount of time? Maybe someone with, I don't know, Japanese background?"

Yup.

You can't decide if you're honored, nervous, scared, or excited. You haven't been back home in so long. Will it still be the same? The same restaurants, the same stores, the same people. Will they still be waiting for you?

"You fly out at 1200."

Your brows furrow. "You're giving me 4 hours to pack up all my things and say goodbye to everyone? That's ridiculous."

She nods sympathetically. "I know. But he wants to get this show on the road, it seems."

You sigh. "Alright. I'll head back to my place, please assemble the squad before I go so I can give everyone my best wishes."

You pack up your entire apartment in two hours. You have less things than you thought you did. You guess that some small subconscious part of you kept you from collecting too many things that would keep you grounded here. Maybe you always knew you'd return home.

It takes even less time to say bye to everyone. You're ready to ship out in just under three hours and the pilot shrugs, saying you're his only passenger anyway and he can afford to leave early. The Director General lent you his private plane after all.

You can't do anything about your nerves so you make the best of this trip, ordering lavish foods while you read. Your favorite book is one that Soshiro bought for you and the ink from the personal message he wrote on the inside of the front cover is so faded from you constantly rubbing your thumb over it nostalgically.

Soshiro. You'll be there soon.

You sleep through most of the flight. You dream about him again, to no one's surprise at this point.

This time you're both 17, you both snuck out of training together to attend a typical high school party. You were in agreement that the two of you wanted one normal high school experience before you both went off and joined the Defense Force and became stiff, disciplined officers. Of course, you'd tease Soshiro that you couldn't see him ever being stiff or disciplined.

Anyway, you'd been playing spin the bottle and Soshiro's spin landed on you and the both of you ended up in a closet together.

"Well this is a stupid game." He grumbled as he searched for the light to the closet. He would never make you do anything against your will and he found it ridiculous that that's exactly what this game was made for.

But you didn't find it ridiculous. You found it lucky. Your heart was beating loudly in your chest. You grabbed his hand before it reached the light switch and you kissed him in the dark.

He hesitated and then he kissed you back, gently pressing you up against the wall.

When someone knocked on the door seven minutes later, he locked the door and stayed in there with you until he was ready to leave. He must've known if the two of you stepped outside, you'd both go back to acting like nothing happened. Like you had plenty of time to figure out these messy feelings of yours. But neither of you could predict that you wouldn't even be in the same country as him a month later, so you both kept ducking the topic and pushing your feelings for each other down. And then it was too late.

Six years too late, you thought to yourself as your eyes fluttered open. The plane was descending. You were arriving in Japan as last.

You wondered who you'd be serving under and if Soshiro would be in the same platoon. The JAKDF had several divisions, it wasn't guaranteed that you'd even be in the same one as him. You'd been told that the position of Vice Captain had been recently opened at one of the Divisions and you were there to fill that spot. You'd do your best to fill the shoes of whoever came before you and make your team back in America proud.

As you step out of the plane you're greeted by your new teammates in the Third Division. Your eyes scan the crowd and they finally find the person they're looking for.

Your breath catches in your throat and you freeze on the last step of the plane.

He holds a hand out to you to help you down all the way.

"Welcome to the Third Division. I'm Captain Hoshina."

You take his hand and step down the last stair. You don't let go of his hand even when he's introducing you to the troops. You think this might be you dreaming about him again and you don't dare let go just in case.

He doesn't seem to mind. He keeps a firm grip on you and when you've finally greeted everyone he tells them he needs to discuss more matters with you privately.

The two of you enter his office and he closes the door behind him. Before you can speak, he's wrapped you up in a warm hug. "Vice Captain, huh? Impressive." He whispers, still holding you close.

You close your eyes and just soak in his voice. "Not as impressive as you- Captain Hoshina. And here I always thought I'd beat you to Captain when we were kids."

He chuckles and the familiar rumble of his laughter makes your heart skip several beats. He releases you from his arms so he can get a good look at you, but he still holds your hands tight in his. "I really never thought I'd see you again. And look at you now. Gorgeous as ever."

You blush. "Still cheeky I see."

He grins widely. "Still me. Always."

You're relieved. He doesn't seem to have changed at all, just gotten a little taller. And a little more... you gulp, a lot more muscular. You didn't realize it when he was holding you close because you were so focused on the way he smelled and the way he sounded. But now that you were getting a full view of him, you could see the efforts of his training peeking through his shirt. You blush deeper. Thank god he's a little dense and doesn't notice. He's just excited to see you again, he doesn't care if you're flushed or not.

"Hey- dinner on me later? We can go to that diner we liked." He nudges your arm.

You smile. "Yeah? I'm game, especially if you're buying."

He walks you to your room and then leaves you alone to unpack your things. You wish he wouldn't go but you know he has a division to run.

"Captain." You say to yourself, shaking your head. You hoped he would be in the same division as you, but you never could've imagined he'd be working this closely with you. You'll have to pay a visit to the shrine later and thank the gods.

You finish unpacking and you meet Soshiro for dinner in the cutest outfit you can find. You wonder if he'll notice.

He notices.

"So you don't wear the combat suit 24/7?" He teases.

You roll your eyes thinking he's not going to say anything else but then he looks away for a moment.

"You, um... you look real good."

You wonder where his confidence from earlier went. He can get away with calling you gorgeous but now here he is making the word "good" look difficult. You almost laugh.

He opens the door to the restaurant for you and then when you're led to a table, he pulls the chair out for you. You don't remember him being such a gentleman but he was still a teenager last time you saw him. It seems he has grown some after all.

As you eat dinner, you fall back into old rhythms- you steal food off of his plate and he does the same to yours. You even sword fight him with your chopsticks and he laughs the same familiar laugh that you love so much.

Then the drinks start to hit harder and the air seems to change between the two of you.

"So listen..." He starts, cautiously. He seems to get caught up in his own thoughts because he doesn't finish his sentence.

"I'm listening." You nudge him.

He gives you a small, pinched smile. "I don't know how to say this actually." He admits.

You wonder if he's thinking what you're thinking, but it's been so long you can't be sure. "You can say anything to me, you know that." You try to reassure him so that he continues.

He sighs. "Do you... remember going to a party? Back in high school?"

Ah. So he is thinking the same thing as you. You nod slowly.

He clears his throat uncomfortably. "Do you... remember what happened at that... party?"

You nod again, your cheeks starting to heat up at the thought of that mind-blowing kiss.

"It's just... we never... we never talked about it. And then you were just gone- just like that. And I know it's stupid to be bringing it up again so many years later, but you're the exact same as you've always been and I'm the same as I've always been and I just thought..." He trails off.

"You just thought...?" You lean in, hoping to god he finishes his sentence.

"I just thought... maybe now we could... talk about it? If-if you wanted."

"Okay, what do you have to say about it?"

He laughs at that. "Boy, you really don't make this easy do you? You never have."

"Sorry. I'll go first then, okay?"

He nods and waits for you to speak.

"I regretted it for six years."

He winces.

You backtrack. "Wait, sorry that's not how it was supposed to come out. Now you're making this hard."

You both laugh. Then he takes your hand.

"I think what you meant to say was you regretted leaving it the way we did?"

You nod. You're glad he's still able to understand you so well even after all these years.

"I do too. I thought, god, if I could just get one chance to tell her how I felt I'd do it. And now you're here and I'm stumbling over my words. But I need to say this. Because I can't wait another six years for you to find out that I love you. Because I love you. Always did, and still do."

You start to cry before you even realize it's happening. He immediately rushes over to your side of the table to brush the tears away.

"Hey, hey, did I say something wrong? Tell me. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?"

You can't figure out how to put the words together properly so you kiss him. He kisses you back more intensely than he did back then and you wish you can just freeze time so he can keep kissing you like this. Then he pulls away.

"You know, love, I like the way you're thinking but you still haven't given me an official answer."

You laugh. "I love you too- I should think it was obvious."

"Some of us only have half the brain that you do and need verbal confirmation."

"You got that right." You tease.

He wraps you up tight in his arms.

"So does this make us boyfriend-girlfriend?" He asks in his best "high schooler" voice, grinning like an idiot from ear to ear.

You roll your eyes. "Take me to the prom and we'll see about that."

He laughs. "Just let me date you already damnit."

You kiss him again.

"Was that a yes?"

You nod.

"Okay, again, I'm just checking."

[signalburst]

Shōgun Historical Shallow-Dive: Part 1

Does everybody else's heart hurt? Good! Let's get learning. These characters and the people that inspired them all deserve their own post, but here's a quick one if you're wondering what happened. This is a shallow-dive because the history is extremely complicated, and a condensed version of just the events leading up to Sekigahara (the battle depicted in the finale) take up entire volumes of history. I'll do my best to answer questions about what happened to our three protagonists, in the show, as well as real life 🙇

One note: given I'm not a professional historian, I've got no obligation to not have biases and favourites. I've tried to keep most of them out of this, but if you want to punish yourself by trying to keep track of who's who in the Azuchi-Momoyama period, this book is the best English-language overview.

What happened to Toranaga (Tokugawa Ieyasu)?

Gif: @yocalio

I am not as strong as I might be, but I have long known and practiced patience. And if my descendants wish to be as I am, they must study patience. - from The Legacy of Ieyasu Tokugawa

In the book, Toranaga reveals that it had been his aspiration to be Shōgun from the very beginning. That was what drove his alliance with the Taiko, that was what drove his feigned alliance with the Heir.

History follows a very similar path. I re-read some chapters on the battle of Sekigahara last night, and there is no easy way to explain it, but: the result of Sekigahara (an enormous, two-day battle with 200,000 samurai and ashigaru warriors in the field) was an enormous victory for Tokugawa, Toranaga's real-life counterpart.

Years - sometimes decades - of scheming by Tokugawa had made Ishido/Ishida's Western Alliance completely fragmented. In the months leading up to the period displayed in the show, Toranaga was calling in a lifetime of marriage alliances, diplomatic advantage, defensive pacts and childhood friends who'd risen to high status. Re-reading the sources, the names of all the lords of all the important fiefs and castles makes my head spin, let alone the ones that turned out to be pivotal to Toranga/Tokugawa's victory. But it was a resounding victory, and by both the numbers and the disposition of forces, he should have lost.

Historians have a consensus that if the 'Western forces' of the Heir had have fought together with a unified command structure, they would have won, easily. But they didn't - orders from Ishido/Ishida were ignored, Toranaga/Tokugawa endured onslaughts, and the Regents' opposing armies eventually fractured and melted away. This was a last-of-an-era battle. Families were fighting on either side, every single unit that could be brought to bear was on the field. It is no exaggeration to say Sekigahara is one of the few, unambiguous battles upon which the beginning of a historical era came down to.

Toranaga/Tokugawa triumphed because he spent decades building unity of purpose and strong alliances, simultaneously sowing division amongst the Regents, who ultimately balked at being commanded by a bureaucrat like Ishido/Ishida. Whilst there was no one decisive moment of an extremely bloody, rainy, two-day battle, the fact that Ishido/Ishida's forces refused to be told what to do by someone of lower status was the main theme of their defeat. A crucial army stationed on the hill stayed still, refusing to commit to either side, until Toranaga/Tokugawa fired muskets into their ranks. They made up their mind, and attacked Ishido/Ishida's Western army. Ishido/Ishida's one trick of firing a flare to commit the reserve army didn't work. The commander ignored it. Instead of being there to fight for something, Ishido/Ishida's coalition was there to oppose someone. They all had different reasons. And ultimately, the man that brought them together didn't command enough respect to command a battle.

As our show Toranaga said, the Regents fell upon each other. He might have been a bit optimistic about how and why this would happen (they fell over each other in retreat, and it took two days of horrific combat), but it happened. Tokugawa Ieyasu was famous for richly rewarding former enemies, and most of those he defeated kept their heads. This reputation is a strong incentive for leaving the field when things start going Tokugawa's way.

The two exceptions were Ishido/Ishida, and Kiyama/Konishi, both beheaded in Osaka (Ishido, bizarrely, was upbeat about his fate, until seconds before the sword came down). Killing Ishida was the obvious move, as the man schemed and bitched so much he caused a civil war. Killing Konishi was more calculated - it opened up his trade-hub in Kyushu to being ruled by a fervent Buddhist daimyo and ally of Tokugawa.

Toranaga/Tokugawa forces soon captured Osaka Castle after the battle of Sekigahara, and with it, the Heir.

Toranaga/Tokugawa 'reluctantly' accepted the Imperial appointment of Shōgun three years later, in 1603. In 1605, he abidcated, passing the title to his most malleable and competent son, Hidetada. He was the real power behind the throne and ruled until his death in 1616.

The year before he died, he was able to fully secure his legacy. The Heir (in real life, Toyotomi Hideyori) had begun to gather daimyo to Osaka castle who were opposed to Tokugawa. Tokugawa used the flimsiest of pretexts - the opening of a shrine - to order the Heir out of the castle. He refused, Tokugawa forces besieged the castle - twice. The first one was called off because cannon fire nearly killed Ochiba no kata, and she pushed her son to sue for peace. By the second siege, there would be no peace: the Tokugawa forces defeated all oppoosition, and secured the legacy.

Toranaga/Tokugawa's descendants would rule for 250 years of internal peace and external lock-down of the country from barbarians (and Christians), except for limited trade.

The big question: did Toranaga/Tokugawa really want to be Shōgun from the start? History tells us, rather unambiguously, yes - before the campaign, he was writing his 100 Articles for ruling Japan, which would be instrumental for his family holding on to power and preventing internal strife. His plan may well have gone back to his formative, teenage years. At the very least, it is highly likely it was solidified when Toranaga/Tokugawa was a vassal of the Dictator Koroda/Oda Nobunaga - the man Mariko/Hosokawa Gracia's father assassinated, who was brutal even by the standards of the day. We don't have time for him, the Taiko, and Mariko's father today - but my opinion is that the motherfucker firmly deserved to be assassinated, and the only amazing thing is that the inspiration for Mariko's father was able to hold off for so long.

But that killing set off a chain of events that would lead to Toranaga/Tokugawa becoming sole ruler of a unified Japan. So much of history is contingent on individual actors and random events. It didn't have to happen. It was extremely unlikely. But, through patience (and by my reckoning, a lot of luck), he made the world he wanted to see. Whether that was worth the price in lives is for the reader to decide.

But by all accounts, Toranaga/Tokugawa died very satisfied in the knowledge that his legacy was secure, his realm was unified, and, finally, at peace.

What happened to Mariko (Hosokowa Gracia)?

Gif: @yocalio

As is probably obvious, Mariko's purpose was fulfilled before the conclusion of the show. As is also probably obvious, her historical counterpart - Hosokowa Gracia - did not have an affair with an English sea pilot (😢). She did, however, change Japanese history, and tipped the balance of noble support towards Toranaga/Tokugawa. Her death had meaning.

The framing of her marriage to Buntaro and exile after her father's successful assassination of a brutal dictator is almost exactly correct. She was one of the most desirable, valued and accomplished young noblewomen of the day. The stain of the name Akechi would haunt her for the rest of her life. Real life Buntaro, Hosokowa Tadaoki, genuinely sent her away for two years to save her life. The Hosokowa family even went so far as to pretend that she had died, to save her from the Taiko's vengeance. Whilst her marriage was an unhappy one (though not, as far as is known, abusive), she was beloved by the head of the Hosokowa clan, the show's Hiromatsu. They went to extraordinary lengths to keep her safe.

Her main comfort in her life was her faith. It's perhaps here that we get the strongest through-line from Hosokowa Gracia to Mariko - unafraid, intelligent, and fierce.

She first came to learn about Christianity from her Christian maid, who extolled the virtue of the faith, and the opportunities for intellectual stimulation theological discussion could bring. In 1587 (five years after her father assassinated the dictator, three years after she returned from exile), she decided to take action on it. She snuck out of Osaka Castle and visited the main church in Osaka - she had lively conversations with the elderly Father-Visitor, and was an excellent pupil of both Portuguese and Latin theological texts. I don't know if you guys have ever tried to read those things, but even in translation, they are torturous. This woman was extremely intelligent.

As a noble woman of the Taiko's court, she knew he was about to issue an edict outlawing Christianity. Being the (excuse the language) absolute fucking badass that she was, she had her maid (baptismal name Maria) baptise her before the edict was issued, transforming from Hosokowa Tama to Hosokowa Gracia. Even though she had to keep her faith a secret due to the Taiko's edict, she found a way to hold on to it. She had a special sake cup made with the Hosokowa mon emblazed on the lip, which, on very close inspection, was actually a Christian cross.

During this time of her religious conversion and education, a primary source from a Jesuit priest says that 'I have never disputed with a woman of such clear judgement, and such definite knowledge.' She was known for being fiercely intelligent, and this is commented on in many European letters and journals that have remained from the Catholic church's time in Japan.

Her relationship with her husband - like Buntaro, a senior retainer of Toranaga/Tokugawa - was frosty. They never reconciled after her father's (Akechi Mitsuhide) rebellion, but her husband did recall her from exile when it was safe to do so, and she lived to serve a very similar purpose to Mariko in the book and show. By virtue of not being an interpreter, she was less close to Toranaga/Tokugawa than in the book and show, but she was still dedicated to her clan and her clan's overlord, as will become clear.

Just as in the show, Hosokowa Gracia agonized at the thought of seppuku putting her soul in mortal danger. But she perceived her duty to be to ensure death before being captured or otherwise dishonoured.

To put it bluntly, Ishido (Ishida in real life) fucked up. Before any military manouvers had begun, he went to seize hostages of friends and enemies alike throughout Osaka castle. His forces tried to forcibly seize Hosokowa Gracia from the family quarters. She gave orders for her senior retainer to kill her, her daughter, and set fire to their section of Osaka Castle, so that none could be taken and subjected to dishonour. She arranged with this samurai to stand on one side of a shoji screen, facing him. He stabbed her through the heart with a naginata. She died, satisfied in the knowledge that:

...the death was not suicide, and her soul would doubtless be spared from the torments of Hell.

Although not doing this directly on the orders of Toranaga/Tokugawa, it's highly likely she knew that she was making a statement (many of the other hostages went quietly). This furthered his cause immensely. Inspired by Hosokowa Gracia, families streamed out of Osaka Castle and other Regent-held castles by any method they could. Her example ignited a firestorm of controversy surrounding the gall of a jumped-up bureaucrat (a reputation Ishido/Ishida would never escape) forcing the death of one of the era's pre-eminent noblewomen. Although her husband was relatively unbothered by her death, her father-in-law - the book/show's Hiromatsu - was furious. Because of Hosokowa Gracia and his granddaughter's death, he immediately fortified his border castle.

He defied a large [Ishido/Ishida] army of 15,000 men with only 500 men of his own.

Many of [Ishido/Ishida's] commanders held [Hosokowa Fujitaka/Hiromatsu] in such high regard that they went through the bare motions of laying siege. On a regular basis, gunners 'accidentally' forgot to load their cannon with iron shot, and so Tanabe Castle's walls reverberated daily to the harmless booming of blank gundpowder explosions. [Ishido/Ishida's] military offensive had launched to a disastrous start.

The siege only ended because of an imperial decree (it's a long story - Fujitaka/Hiromatsu knew an oral tradition special imperial poem that risked dying with him, nobody could refuse the Emperor). More than this, any chance Ishido/Ishida had of convincing skilled and respected generals to commit to his side ended with Fujitaka/Hiromatsu's defiance. Such was the respect that he commanded, and such was the rage he felt at the death of his daughter-in-law, that he worked tirelessly to gather support for Toranaga/Tokugawa, despite his advanced years.

Mariko/Hosokowa Gracia's contribution was an inflection point to what many samurai, busho and daimyo were suspecting - that Ishido/Ishida was a snake bitch who couldn't be trusted (I believe that's the correct historical term). Her actions galvanized resistance against him, and continued to spread the wildfire that would seal his defeat on the battlefield of Sekigahara: 'Why are we taking orders from him?'

Importantly, Hosokowa Gracia's remains were gathered by a Catholic priest, and given a Christian burial in Osaka. From everything we know of her, this would have been very meaningful indeed. Just as with Mariko in the show's depiction, Hosokowa Gracia's death was not senseless or without meaning. It meant something, and continues to resonate through the centuries.

What happened to John Blackthorne (William Adams)?

Gif by @cinematic-gif-archive

The short answer: imagine an alien landed in America. It was smart enough to avoid death. It ended up chief special advisor to Obama, and they became bros. That is William Adams's life.

First things first: Blackthorne stays in Japan. 'Old Rich Blackthorne' scenes are basically fever dreams. I was worried when the episode opened with a flash-forward to an old man living in Tudor comfort. This would be a huge change from both the book, and history. The novel ends with Toranaga confirming that his plan is for Blackthorne to never leave Japan. Blackthorne finds his place there. In history, the same is true of William Adams.

In episode 10, the 'is this a flash-forward?/is this a dream?' question is answered halfway through the episode. Blackthorne drops Mariko's cross over the side with Fuji's family ashes. As soon as that's done, the aged visions of Blackthorne disappear.

For those who are more textual than visual: the episode is titled A Dream of a Dream (a play on the title of the Taiko's death poem). Concussed, grief-stricken Blackthorne is dreaming of the dream he used to have - returning to England with riches and glory, his family name secure, with every comfort Queen Elizabeth the First can offer a pirate-explorer like Sir Francis Drake or Sir Walter Raleigh. But as soon as he lets go of Mariko's cross into the water (earlier, actually, when he sincerely attempted seppuku to try and save the people of Ajiro) that dream stopped appearing. The dream he had of exploiting Japan for riches and glory was gone, replaced with the reality of the life he is left to build.

In the show and the book, Toranaga is explicit about never letting Anjin-sama/Blackthorne leave Japan. If he builds new ships, Toranaga will burn them again. He needs Blackthorne's knowledge, expertise, and - in a bizarre twist of fate - friendship. We leave him hauling his wreck from the harbour, ready to salvage the keel and spars, to build a new ship in Japan.

So how does this marry up with history? Extremely accurately. As far as we know, the historical William Adams was slightly less of a pirate/privateer than the book/show's John Blackthorne. His hatred of Catholicism was more driven by their fervent desire to kill him, which they kept up for nearly a decade. His interest in exploration, in the show and in the historical, was genuine.

The show's story very closely follows what actually happened in real life (again, sans romance... although he does have love in his life, which we'll get to). His crew were initially imprisoned, he was summoned by Toranaga/Tokugawa, and met with him many times to discuss his knowledge of the outside world, trade, and Christianity's impact in Asia. The Jesuits did pester the Council of Regents, and Toranaga/Tokugawa in particular, to execute him. Toranaga/Tokugawa refused, saying this barbarian had done nothing to harm Japan or its people. The Jesuits would not forget this.

He did train elements of Toranaga/Tokogawa's army in how to work the cannon his ship possessed - a skill he possessed, but no one else was willing to offer. He actually followed Toranaga/Tokugawa to several battles. Recent primary source evidence has revealed it was highly likely he was actually at the Battle of Sekigahara, which is a very recent development in the historiography of his life. It is just bananas insane, but it demonstrates just how useful (and likeable) Blackthorne/Adams was to Toranaga/Tokugawa.

I've read two biographies of William Adams, and he was very, very like the Blackthorne portrayed by Cosmo Jarvis. Other Europeans in Japan complained that he was arrogant and dismissive - historians see this as Adams adapting to his station in Japanese society, and being extremely frustrated with European manners and bearing in Japan.

Once Toranaga/Tokugawa became shōgun, Adams - already a samurai - was made hatamoto, and forbidden from leaving Japan. He was granted many generous cuckoos (250 of them!), an estate in Edo, a fief at the entrance to Edo bay, and rose to become Toranaga/Tokugawa's chief trade advisor. During Toranaga/Tokugawa's remaining life, he built two Western-style ships (which Tokugawa came aboard and was very pleased with - that's nice!), and took over piloting duties of Portuguese and Spanish ships making landfall in Edo, pissing off the Catholics to no end.

On Ieyasu Tokugawa's death in 1616, his holdings and fief were confirmed by the new shōgun, Ieyasu Hidetada. But his relationship with the court wouldn't be the same. My reading of the sources leads me to believe that James Clavell was right here: Toranaga/Tokugawa Ieyasu genuinely liked Blackthorne/William Adams, and wanted him around.

As more and more Europeans arrived in Japan, including the English and the Dutch, Adams served as translator for them, and - for the Enlgish - fixer whenever they did something barbaric and rude that would warrant execution. He seemed to view spending time with the (no joke) drunken, whoring, disgusting-smelling English trading factory members as an extreme annoyance. He seemed happiest at sea, and at his mansion in Edo, where he married the daughter of a merchant in 1613. Whilst her name is lost to the historical record, they had two children, Joseph and Susanna.

He wasn't a deadbeat dad - he wrote to his wife back in England, explaining that he could not return. She was a firebrand, and eventually extracted a form of life insurance from the Dutch company that had contracted Adams's piloting services. Partly she was able to do this because of a proclamation issued by Toranaga/Ieyasu Tokugawa: 'William Adams was dead the day he was made samurai, and Miura Anjin - the pilot of the fief of Miura - was born.' That sounds like a badass quote I've made up, but that's one of the English translations of Tokugawa's proclamation.

Adams kept up his maritime adventures, charting the Japanese coast, going on several trading missions to Southeast Asia (sailing to Thailand and meeting with the King of Siam, furthering his amazing ability to charm and dazzle). He struck up firm friendships with members of Tokugawa's court, fellow Japanese merchants in Edo, and the much more polite Dutch traders, despite the tensions that had grown between their two countries.

There's an important aspect of his legacy that endured for centuries. Toranaga/Tokugawa, suspicious of what he had learned of Catholic conversion and invasion of other Asian states, was already disposed to be wary of the Church. The Church in Japan would not let Adams rest, attempting to kill him, convert him, bribe him, and offer him passage home in 1614 on a Portuguese ship. In the same year Portuguese priests claimed that only Spanish miners had the skills to open up the mineral wealth of Japan. Adams warned the shōgun, again, that this was the Catholic way - first the priests, then the conquistadores.

Influenced by these reports and counsel, and because the Jesuits legitimately were conspiring to do the shit Adams accused them of (always a tough charge to defend), Toranaga/Tokugawa Ieyasu expelled all Portuguese priests in 1614, and demanded all Japanese Christians recant. Apart from this leading to the Dutch being the only nation allowed to conduct trade with Japan, this was the end of Japanese Christianity, until the country was forced open in 1855. Christianity never took root in the same way it would in places like Brazil and the Philippines. Was William Adams the only factor in this development? No. Was he a factor? Yes.

He died in 1620, after twenty contented years in Japan and Asia. His will stipulated that his estates and belongings be split evenly between his family in England and Japan. One of Adams's colleagues recorded that Ieyasu Hidetada transferred lordship of Adams's fief to his Japanese son, Joseph, as well as his katana and wakizashi. His line fell out of the historical record, but memory of and monuments to the Anjin remain in Japan.

Faring Well

Shōgun, the book, was fiction, written by a man fascinated by Japanese history, driven by a desire to bring it to the world. He was overwhelmingly successful. It was an excellent start, and even fired up some fascinating academic discussion at the time that I'd definitely recommend. The 2024 adaptation, in my view, changes many of the elements that have aged poorly, were flat-out wrong to begin with, and - like all great adaptations - adds to the work, rather than cheapening it.

Despite being based on real people, the fictional characters created for the show - Blackthorne, Toranga, and especially Mariko - feel real. That is an amazing achievement.

I hope this opens up an interest in Japanese history for some viewers. Being able to visit the places where these events took place is a truly awesome experience. Like all history, it's for individuals to judge what they think of the players.

Hiroyuki Sanada said that he admires Tokugawa Ieyasu because of his ability to bring forth 250 years of peace out of nearly 500 years of chaos. Was Ieyasu motivated by altruism, or self-interest? Does it even matter?

Anna Sawai saw in Hosokowa Gracia a moving, powerful woman, deeply committed to her faith, and to doing what she believed was right in the context of her time. As a person without faith myself, I found this portrayal of genuine belief extremely moving. The demonstration of her convictions was one of the most amazing performances I've ever seen.

And as for the English pilot, Cosmo Jarvis said he wanted to capture the restlessness of Adams, his slow transformation and growth, and the unique qualities that allowed the man to survive and thrive in an extremely deadly time. One thing he nailed that I think even James Clavell messed up was how deepy strange William Adams was. Not weird, not insane, but just a very singular individual. Biographers talk about his aloof, detached, self-aware nature being misconstrued as arrogance by Europeans who encountered him in Japan. Part of it was his annoyance at their inability to learn how to be in Japan; part of it was that he was simply built very differently. In embodying this, I think Cosmo Jarvis succeeded amazingly.

From what we can find in the historical record, William Adams and Hosokowa Gracia may not be 'great' in the sense that Tokugawa Ieyasu was 'great'. They did not build an era. To borrow a phrase from one of my favourite historical writers, whilst they may not be 'great' people, they were good people. That is vanishingly rare in the history we celebrate, and I think, for that reason alone, it's important to remember them, and the things they lived and died for.