#death before dishonour

[f0point5]

This. Everyone else has to go up against a generational talent who is not only ruthless but absolutely relentless.

[estarion]

btw astarion might just fucking die soon bc no way is he letting @astralrogue or anyone dominate him ever. bYE. TIME TO FRY .. . . . ...

[dreamsb0u]

im about to jump that american kid

AHAHHAHASHDGH NOOOOO GUYS HES JUST SILLY!!!!

[aserpent]

rebellion-era lucifer would have taken death over being cast out, and he'll never forgive st. michael the indignity of defeating him without granting him an execution :')

[breitzbachbea]

I have to pack so I am prepared tomorrow and have to do nothing, but I cannot stress how much I don't wanna pack.

[wintervsuns]

who: @owenstark​ where: the king’s personal audience chambers in winterfell, following the corpse of lady meera reed being placed in private quarters within the hand of the king’s wing in winterfell. 

the labyrinth walls of winterfell were a blur. it felt as though the bile that sat at the very back of his throat refused to go down, constantly risking coming up at the mere thought. the mere memory. he heard the sound of his boots against the stone below him, but that was all he could hear and all he could feel - as though his legs were guiding him to where he needed to go. controlling where he needed to go, and yet it felt as though his being was somewhere else. 

his being was in the room where his wife was laid out beneath a white sheet, in the bed that was their own within winterfell; the constant prayers being muttered around her in the sun tongue of karhold’s lands, her ladies crying quietly with their hands to their mouth.

it seemed as though his soul left his body the moment he saw the bruises around her neck; harsh purple against porcelain skin. and the sun of winter felt no shame in his household knowing their lord mourned for their lady; the beginning of something their union was supposed to be. the beginning to a new chapter in their lives. the strange reed woman people feared, forever lingering in the shadows of the great hall; in reality, too nervous to find a seat at table. he had made her their table. he would have done anything, and everything, for the woman he had taken as his wife beneath the godstree. and now, after everything, here they were.

and somewhere within him, that was a part of him, some twisted dark eclipse that felt his very chest caving in. how much had he lost? his sister dead at the hands of the wildlings. his wife dead at the hands of a false pretender king. his home and his land surrounded - where his mother and his brother remained. and there was a part of him that wanted to curse the king of winter, and his fucking fantasy he had built in his head - the amount of power the pretender had was startling. even the nights watch. even the fucking watch. 

some things can be left alone. some things needed to be left alone. 

there was one thing meera reed had left him; something that did not make him feel as though he would be able to sit and disassociate from his entire body. something that was more than the memories that only made him sob, memories he knows would make him smile one day - and those were men. men of greywater watch, and the lands of house reed. men he had picked up on the return north, summoning them to winterfell. and as he entered the chambers of owen stark, he saw his oldest friend.

he saw his king.

he saw a king he had lost nearly everything for. and again, he felt the urge to be sick at the urge that came over him. he wished to slam him into a wall, he wished to bludgeon him with his fists. his fucking fantasy swung the odds out of power. such was the thin line when childhood boys, distant kin, are separated by king and crown. 

“i’ll be gone in the morning, with karstark and reed men.”

[homunculus-argument]

Writing tip of the day: whenever you can, plug a plot hole with a character flaw!

Every time you realise that it makes no sense that the characters didn't do some super logical thing in the first place, figure out which character could have prevented it by simply the way they are as a person. You're not only solving the problem of the plot hole, but also the issue of writing flaws into your characters in a way that doesn't feel gratituous and contrived.

Why did the characters not use this weapon they had access to the whole time? - The character who could have told them about it wants to have control over people and had personally decided they shouldn't have it.

Why didn't that one genius character just tell everyone how to dismantle the robots? - They meant to, but being an absent-minded genius, they literally just forgot.

How did nobody notice that this little girl has been hanging out with an actual demon for seven years? - The demon made her pinky-promise not to tell anyone about it, and being naive and overly trusting, she didn't find that sketchy at all.

Why didn't the characters go to The Big Cool Guys for help in the first place? - The character who is stubborn and overly proud wanted to choose death before dishonour and didn't want to ask for help.

Every time there was a perfectly reasonable solution accessible to the characters all along, that could've resolved the whole plot in minutes, always try to find an angle where someone prevented it just by who they are as a person.

[trashmouththeorist]

severus snape fic recs

my personal favs

Young Snape:

a life of smoke and silvered glass: Slight AU in which Severus apologizes, tries harder, and stays friends with Lily. Severus doesn't become a Death Eater because he believes in it, Jily get married. Sweet, slightly sad ending. (So cute).

Falling Apart: Time travel fic, no pairings, Severus goes back to when James levicorpused him. (I loved this, I loved how Mary was included and Avery had a redemption arc. Severus never calls Lily mudblood.)

in glory and in ruin: Mulciber/Snape but it's not a main part of it. Basically, a Triwizard Tournament in between the school houses, and Severus gets chosen even though he's only 16. The Marauders and Lily aren't really in it, focuses on Snape's Gang, Charity and Aurora. WIP, and I LOVE it!

The Gryffindor Sort: WIP. Long. In which Severus is a Gryffindor, Lupin is hiding something, Potter and Black are the worst, and there's a Wizarding War about to erupt.

Severus and the Marauders: Long. What if instead of being insulted and excluded from the group, Severus was embraced instead. After all, it was the actions of the group that shaped history from the sidelines. So what if they shaped history a little differently?

That Awful Snape Boy: It had all happened on Wednesday 3rd of September 1973; Minerva committed the date to memory. She would always be amazed that this discussion could happen in the first place. If the boy hadn’t been unconscious, would they even have learnt anything before it was too late?

The Unwanted Boy From Spinner's End: Severus Snape’s existence is a mistake. His mother hints at it often enough with her regretful, drawn-out sighs, while his father prefers to get the message across with a good strapping and a lecture on his worthlessness. Needless to say, the twelve-year-old is not particularly inclined to trust adults, no matter how concerned or caring they claim to be. His life changes abruptly, however, one late evening in September when an illicit brewing session results in a forced trip to the Hogwarts infirmary. Not only is the truth about Severus' home life discovered, but an investigation reveals that shortly prior to his mother’s unexpected death, a single piece of parchment was deposited into her Gringotts vault—a Last Will and Testament in which Eileen Snape née Prince grants guardianship of her son to none other than Albus Dumbledore himself.

To Recollect the Future: Hindsight is 20/20, but when Harry's last steps into the forest set him back further than he'd ever thought, he never realised how grateful he'd be to have Snape there to help too.

Severus' choice: How one choice changed history's course, or the life of Severus Snape from Hogwarts to adulthood if characters were less caricatural, and Voldemort and the Death Eaters were more than bogeymen. This is an AU, events before and after may differ from the books.

the lost generation: The Marauders era at Hogwarts, Voldemort's rise to power and the subsequent war, family loyalties and dishonour, and the struggles of friendship in a difficult time.

Snily:

Come Once Again and Love Me: My favourite Snily fic ever. Snape and Lily time travel back from their individual deaths to when they were still at Hogwarts. Realistic-Lily misses James and Harry and their falling in love is slow burn too. Made me want to cry. I almost liked James!

The Fields of Summer: Short and sad. His past was bleeding into the present, just as his future was bleeding out of the gaping wound in his neck. And since memories were useless to a dead man, Snape plucked them out of his mind and gave them to The Boy Who Lived. He didn’t realize that in so doing, he’d forget her.

seventeen moons: After the werewolf prank. Severus was bitten and Lily figures it out. I hated Sirius so much and he was barely in it but he wasn't villainised-it's just the consequences of his own actions.. Loved the Snily! Short.

Surprising Lessons: Tensions run high between the students of Hogwarts in the time when Severus Snape, Lily Evans, and the Marauders are teenagers. New spells are invented, insults are traded, new bonds form, and unexpected support blooms. Short and sweet.

Vox Severus: SO cute. When Severus Snape's voice changes in fourth year, everyone notices.

Ambiguous: Order member Lily did not have a baby. Death Eater Severus did not hear a prophecy. Consequently, the Dark Lord did not fall. ...but what happens when a long forgotten prophecy suddenly shakes, and flashes through the colours of the spectrum..?

Switching Wands: Severus and Lily acted as best friends should and talked about the Whomping Willow incident. Lily is less than impressed with Potter’s behaviour from that point onward.

Her Slytherin, His Gryffindor: Lily has had enough of James' bullying ways, so she decides to finally take advantage of her Prefect status. Or, in another universe, Lily helps Severus, and they become even closer.

Sweet Root: Lily decides to get Severus drunk one summer night. Angst thereby incurred happily resolves itself into, uh, happiness.

You Don't Bug Me: “Is there any reason you’re half naked in my room?”

Snape/Sirius:

Two Sides: A time travel fic where Severus and Sirius find themselves back on the evening before they graduated Hogwarts. With no idea how and why that happened, they set out to get back to their respective timelines. After all, Sirius has to save Harry at the Minstry of Magic, and Severus needs to tell Potter about the final Horcrux. Right? Too bad that they find themselves back on that evening over and over again. (Personal thoughts: I loved this one, very in character and I loved how they 'fixed' their regrets of the past).

Broken Me Found Broken You: It’s determined that Severus Snape and Sirius Black are immune to punishment after years of near-fatal pranks, bullying, and homemade curses. The only person who thinks them capable of ending the feud and finishing their education is Professor McGonagall. For the summer of ‘77, she gives them a pair of charmed hand mirrors and an ultimatum: communicate. That’s it, a mere ten minutes every Saturday. Back at Hogwarts, when their animosity proves insurmountable, Sirius and Severus are relegated to a small, Eighth Year dormitory. The tight quarters—wandless—are intended to force them to make a peaceful reconciliation, but peace is impossible with a bloody war ramping up inside and outside the castle.

Sorry: Sirius Black decides to make amends for the horrid way he treated Snape when they were teenages. Snape is less than amenable to the idea. (Written around the time of book three/four). Basically, Sirius apologises a lot. And then some fucking.

The Sin in Your Grin (And the Shape of Your Mouth): The Order needed Sirius, but he doubted they'd mourn him very long when he finally disappeared. The first Wizarding war, Snape and Sirius are fucking. Sirius thinks Remus is the spy, Severus tells him otherwise. Canon-compliant: James and Lily die, Peter is the spy. The last line. Shaking.

Dead Reckoning: Severus Snape delivers a potion to Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, holding a twenty-year-old grudge in his heart. He has yearned for revenge for so long—and he will have it. Along with something else he did not ask for.

Beyond The Veil: In one world, Sirius Black ignored Severus Snape's warning and went to the Department of Mysteries to save his godson's life. He died and went beyond the veil. In another world, Sirius Black stayed back. This made all the difference. An AU where Sirius Black survived and now knew Severus Snape's deepest secret.

Rings And Ringing Bells: A bastardisation of a traditional love story. Two men both broken by the world are at wit’s end trying not to kill each other. There’s Severus, a bitter insult who does not take fools lightly, and Sirius, a drunkard who has a habit of pressing his buttons. It involves a curse which forces them to get married, an immaculate conception, and the blurring of the line between hate and love. They fear that they have no control over their lives and are doomed to make the mistakes their parents had done before them. They’re not good for each other, but the fiasco that is their romance may be enough to teach them how to hate each other and themselves a little less.

Always (Come For Me): Snape might have been lying when he said Sirius Black wasn't punished for the prank he had pulled on him. It all started with Sirius having to live with the Snapes for the remainder of his summer...

An Interlude: Set during Order of the Phoenix. Snape comes across Black looking through some of his old school things. Memories are stirred up, grudges are held, old conflicts refuse to be resolved, and new ground might be (dis)covered. A series of conversations in the year before a death.

bite your tongue, go to the funeral: A funeral, a departure, a chance encounter, a war, a funeral (again), a snide remark, and a revival.

Two Boys Kissing: Sirius goes to a gay bar and meets the last person he expects. Under cloudy skies, two boys kiss and that one moment comes to define generations of want, need and hope.

An Occlument Heart: Snape knows that, usually, keeping a secret is the bravest thing you can do. But sometimes the bravest thing is to tell one. Complete. Canon (more or less) up to the start of Book 5, when this story begins.

Found in the Moments Between the Search: When Sirius returns from beyond the Veil with knowledge of Voldemort's Horcruxes, he takes on the task of finding and destroying them. Somewhere along the way he finds an unexpected ally and perhaps something more. (AU from the end of OotP, takes place during HBP period)

Walking the Monochrome: That’s what being a dog is like – it's like you’re walking the very edge of the world, where almost all colour has run out, and you know that should you miss a step, you’ll fall off that edge... Then again, you already know all about it. The edge and the falling.” AU of the first war.

Second Life: What happens when two men are given a second chance.

The Welcoming Feast: Severus opened his eyes and he was suddenly inside Grimmauld Place. His hand flew to his neck. He remembered Nagini biting him, Potter coming to him and then he closed his eyes, expecting death, but instead he was back here.

The Devil-and-All to Pay: Albus Dumbledore is mad. Severus is sure of it, when the old man sends him to persuade Sirius Black to come back to England and let the Order use his family home as headquarters. The problem, as always, is that Severus cannot say no.

Black Out: Snape and Black try something they have never done before. Talking.

eighty-twenty: In seventh year James left Severus for Lily. Best choice he could have ever made. It never would have worked out. Besides, he and Lily are married now, she's pregnant with his soon to be child and Severus...Severus is with Sirius.

First and Last and Always: Severus had his wand. He swallowed hard. His wand. Magic. His only defense, because Black outweighed him by at least three stone. But magic was more than enough. Severus had never needed physical prowess. His magical strength, and the keenness of his mind, gave him the advantage. Except when it didn’t.

Visions of Doom: Severus gets injured in the shrieking shack (his fifth year). While unconscious he witnesses some scenes from his future and realizes becoming a death eater wouldn’t bring him power and glory but pain and servitude. He spends the rest of his schooling trying to shape a different future for himself.

Anything by FabulaRasa on AO3.

Remus/Snape:

Fuel the Pyre of Your Enemies: A paired class assignment for Astronomy incites a mutually beneficial agreement between Remus Lupin and Severus Snape. An exploration of sexuality and friendships. (One of my favourite Snupin fics, really realistic. Also no evil!peter).

where the wolfsbane blooms: Remus and Severus friendship, and then more. 7000 words-short but sweet. Severus tries to cure the lycanthropy. James is constantly befuddled.

Have Your Cake and Eat It: Remus POV. Long. Incredible. Changed my world view. I cried with Remus at the end. Still kind of happy! Time travel fic. Remus lives. Realistic for the characters and especially for the seventies (although lowkey Remus is too woke for the nineties why does he know the word heteronormative). I loved Sirius in this one. Lying in hospital after the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus Lupin has a lovely lucid dream that he's gone back to his school days at Hogwarts. Only the day passes, then another, and another, and soon he must face the terrifying possibility that it isn't a dream — that he has irreparably altered the events of the past. Cunegonde is SO good!

DELOCAPONUM: 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟏. A new acquaintance to the territory of teaching, an old friend to grief and misfortune, and entirely off on the wrong foot, twenty-one-year-old Professor Severus Snape reverts to an old charm of his — a charm for things that are lost — in attempt to find the one book in which he wrote it. But when the spell starts working against him and mysterious things start happening to his own students, it seems he has no choice but to form an alliance with an old schoolyard enemy in order to find a culprit, a book, and his own identity. And one thing is for certain: the irritating charm of Remus Lupin is nearly impossible to refuse.

Creature Comforts: A classic! Remus and Severus are paired to work together in Care of Magical Creatures in 6th year. Neither one is too happy with the arrangement at first.

That Awful Boy: CLASSIC! Severitus. Petunia lets slip a twenty-year-old secret, and Harry is sent to Spinner's End to study Occlumency early. Severus Snape can see no way in which this could end in catastrophe.

Not Really Here: After the werewolf prank, Severus disappears. He’s still at Hogwarts—at least, he thinks he is—and he’s probably still alive, but no one can see or hear him. Except for Lupin. Remus, meanwhile, is avoiding the other Marauders—as well as everyone else—and Snape becomes the sole exception to his self-appointed isolation. As they work together to look for answers about Severus’ condition, the unlikely pair drift toward friendship. But building a relationship of any kind presents a challenge when neither of them is sure Severus exists at all. I've only read this once but I love it. No Marauders bashing, but no pretending they're saints either. And they have a pretty big part but obvs Snupin is at the forefront.

The Heir to the House of Prince: Harry is the main character and the main ship is Harry and Theo. While Snupin is secondary it's pretty central. Summer of 4th year and Harry's all alone, dealing with his grief and the sudden revelation that James Potter is not his father. Support comes in a strange form. The form of Theo Nott, son of a death Eater. A strange friend who says he'll help him find his true father, whoever this Lord Prince might be. Technically Snily ig? But not really.

Sight Unseen: After losing his sight during the Battle of Hogwarts, Remus struggles to adjust to his new circumstances; when depression threatens to overwhelm him, he receives unexpected assistance from an unknown source.

The Other Side of The Mirror: In sixth year, Remus Lupin nearly killed Severus Snape in wolf form. Miraculously, Severus escaped unharmed. But what if he hadn't?

The Meaning of Mistletoe: What was going on was that Severus Snape had no trouble tracking down one Petunia Evans, now Dursley, to a little town in Surrey where he saw how exactly she was treating her nephew. Which somehow led to last night and Severus knocking on Lupin’s door with a toddler half-asleep in his arms.

Spymaster: Former spymaster and one time headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Severus Snape left the house just once a week on a Tuesday. Wherein Snape wears tracksuit pants and smokes too many cigarettes and Lupin is into it.

Well They're No Friends Of Mine: Whenever his friends pull a prank on Snape, Remus always looks the other way. But what if there's another option?

The Other Side of the Mirror: I haven't read this, but it's a 'what if Remus bit Snape.' 60000 words.

Artemisa Absinthium: The Rat and the Snake: AU set during the First Wizarding War. Severus has defected from the Dark Lord, and become a double agent for Dumbledore. When he learns of an informant it sends the Order into disaray. Can he uncover the identity of the traitor before his own true loyalty is revealed? What price is he willing to pay for his redemption? And can a man like Severus Snape ever be worthy of love?

Capnolagnia: Three times Remus caught Severus Snape smoking.

About Wolves and Snakes: Unfinished. Remus Lupin woke up being fifteen years old again, having no idea how or why. Upon learning that he could not return, he decided that he would try to change the way things happened.

One Thousand Galleons: It's been six years since Remus Lupin, age 25, left England after the death of his father and the slow dissolving of his friendship with the Marauders. A letter from James finds him in Canada at an opportune time, asking him to come home to meet his soon-to-be-born son. Remus never expected that his time away would give him the perfect resume for teaching at Hogwarts, nor did he expect that his return would spark both conflict and resolution. If only he could get the Potion's Professor to understand how sorry he is for the way things turned out. “What is the price for your forgiveness?” --- “One Thousand Galleons.”

Living Legend: Marauders-era fic, Snape decides he needs some "hands-on" experience and chooses Remus as his very special study partner. But there's more to these extracurricular activities than meets the eye.

Lily's Boy: With help from unexpected places, Harry starts on a journey to end the war, and reshape the wizarding world. With how much he looks like James Potter, people have forgotten one important thing about him - he is Lily Evans' son, and she was one hell of a witch. Side Snupin.

It's Not Over Til It's Done: Unfinished. Severus did not expect to survive the Second Wizarding War, but survive he did. Remus didn't either, yet due to unforeseen circumstances, Remus finds himself taking care of Severus in the wake of surviving Nagini's venom.

Ten Aprils: Severus must find a way for Harry to defeat Voldemort. Remus must find a way for Severus to free himself from the past. The Dark Lord is about to attack Hogwarts, and Harry needs to get over his rage, hate and despair in order to learn to summon the phoenix needed to defeat Voldemort. Snape must find the answers, then teach Harry how. In the next thirty minutes. Like it would ever happen.

A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love: A story in which Severus Snape is unable to sleep; a certain werewolf is impersonating Celestina Warbek and cauldrons are used as prevention, sort of.

the week that changed it all: It’s Christmas break in Remus’ 6th year of Hogwarts. Sadly, his parents aren’t home so he has to stay over at Lily’s house for the week. He makes a discovery he didn’t know was possible. The first one was that apparently, Severus lived not far away, the second one was that he started to like the boy.

A Prince By Early Frost: While preparing his chamber for the Philosopher’s Stone, Severus encounters the dark fae borne by a black glass mirror, buried deep beneath the castle. He is chosen, but unsure by what, until over a year later, when a figure from his dreams takes the Defense position, asking for a favor.

Chocolate Cake and Other Intimacies: Remus Lupin is spending his birthday alone in the hospital wing. Severus brings him his homework to cheer him up.

That Awful Snape Boy: It had all happened on Wednesday 3rd of September 1973; Minerva committed the date to memory. She would always be amazed that this discussion could happen in the first place. If the boy hadn’t been unconscious, would they even have learnt anything before it was too late? Guardian fic but Snape is the ward in this one. AU set in the Marauders Era. Rated T to be safe.

Basically anything by McKay on AO3.

Snape/James:

Knowledge of the Gods: Severus was either in a coma and dying, already dead and trapped in some purgatory, completely and utterly insane, or living in the body of his past self. And, perhaps most suspiciously, why did James Potter keep looking at him like that?!

A Touch, A Kiss, A Whisper of Love: After Severus Snape and James Potter find themselves stuck in an awkward detention together, an unlikely friendship forms. As their newfound friendship develops, James discovers something new about himself while Severus tries to fight his growing attraction to the Gryffindor boy.

Cake, Please!: Slight SA gives me the ick, but vaguely fun to read. A story of blackmail, the wonderful world of sexuality, and lots of cake.

Revenge is Sweet: A teenage Snape plots his revenge on James Potter for making his life hell, but little does he know that James has plans of his own that will send both their lives spiraling irrevocably out of control.

Ninety-Three: James promises Severus that if Severus has sex with him 93 times, he will break up with Lilly and advocate that she date Severus.

Absolution: What is it that draws James to Severus? A disease? A curse? A secret wish... a need? Try as he might to ignore the Slytherin, in the end, to Severus is where James always finds himself. **SLOW BUILD** Rated M for... certain kinds of scenes later on.

The Dreamer in the Well: James got the girl....finally. She even stopped being friends with Severus, whom he absolutely hated. But one day, his curiosity changes everything.

Love Is Strange: At the start of his sixth year, James Potter decides to finally stop ruining Severus' life. His friends agree to stop the bullying but what they do not know is the reason why James decided to put an end to it. They think he just matured or grew tired of it but the truth is a little more complicated than that.

A Fickle Thing: James Potter's marriage is failing- What a perfect time to disguise himself as a muggle, follow Severus Snape to what is either a makeshift dance club or a party for gay muggles, and then do a series of things he really should not do.

Rise: Severus Snape was tired of his fate, to be a lowly snake. Luckily, fate was kind to him this time and the arrival of a tournament had come. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing, a moment of weakness and strength that led Severus to put his name in the Goblet of Fire. But he was chosen now, and he had no choice but to play in the game, maybe he will live or die, but either way he wasn't going to become what everyone said he would be.

Apocrypha: Two can keep a secret, if one of the two is dead.

Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown): Long, loved it, well written. James Potter starts his seventh year with a secret. He has amazing friends, Sirius is always right by his side, Lily is finally starting to warm up to him. His life is an endless cycle of partying and drinking. So what if the Wizarding World is on the precipice of war? So what if Severus Snape has disappeared from Hogwarts? That's not James's problem. Life is beautiful, and even if it's all an illusion he wants to hold on to that dream for just a little bit longer.

Colours of Redemption: Severus Snape was meant to die. Instead he was placed into hell. Trapped in timeloops, Severus tries to make sense of the future knowledge he suddenly had. If he made one bad move, everything is reset for him to try again. Being placed into a new house and everyone being nice to him, Severus is doing his best but it is hard. Especially when James Potter is noticing him in a different way.

Goeey Melting Hearts: In their 5th year James, Sirius and Remus over hear a conversation that makes them reconsider their opinions of the ‘future Death Eaters’. The Marauders stop bullying, but guilt eats at James until he decides to apologize. That summer James tracks down Severus, but sees something that crushes him.

Regulus/Snape:

Burning Doves: The first Snape/Regulus I ever read. Regulus needs help with potions and Snape tutors him. Not much Marauders, they're just offscreen assholes. Narcissa and Severus friendship which I always enjoy. It's done, but I haven't finished it yet. Whoops.

Severus and Snape: Severus Snape finds Lily dead in Godric's Hollow, her son's screams echoing in his ears, and decides to end his life with hers. Fate has other ideas. Next thing he knows, he's facing an 11-year-old Lily Evans, on their way to their first year at Hogwarts.

Snape & or / Narcissa:

Seven Days: Severus knows a lot can happen in seven days. Slash.

Living A Lie:  All of her life, Narcissa Black has had to live as the perfect lady, and witch; to never reveal one's inner heart, nor ever go against the wishes of one's family. After being forced into an engagement she does not want during her sixth year at Hogwarts, Narcissa has kept the desires of her heart on ice; particularly, for a wizard her family would never in a million years have approved of: Severus Snape. Even after the birth of her son Draco, she has harbored these desires deep in her heart for the enigmatic Potions Master. But when she comes to Spinners End to ask Severus to watch over Draco at the start of the school term of 1997, she finds that she cannot keep her heart on ice for the wizard of her dreams any longer...

What Lies Beneath: "Please, Professor, I saw him-I saw Snape," Harry said, struggling to breathe, "he's hurt...we've got to find him-we've got to find him right now or he's going to die!" Severus Snape's redemption story told in the span of three books from multiple perspectives.

Snape/Others:

Redemption: Severus died that night at the hands of the Dark Lord, the man he "worked" for and was "loyal", at least that's what the Lord believed him to be, an impeccable servant.  Even so, he ended up dying for his master's snake.  He knew it would happen, he was sure his time was coming, just like the manipulative old goat's plan. However, what would he do when he found out that he wasn't the only one who had the memories of his past life?  How would his life turn out?  Better or worse?

Breaking the Mould: Everyone knew Severus' future. Everyone knew he'd become a death eater, maybe get his mastery in potions and eventually die at his master's hand. But what if they didn't know Severus as well as they thought they did? Rather than conform to the role people expected him to play, Severus takes action. During 6th year he leaves Hogwarts, joining an apprenticeship overseas that guarantees not only a future but his own happiness. Meanwhile the Marauders (minus Peter) are left regretting what can never be. They each had a secret, something none of them were willing to admit. Only now it's too late. But what happens when Severus re-emerges during the war? Not a death eater, not a teacher even. But a strong, independent and most importantly a free man. How will the marauders react?

Dinner and a Show: James takes Lily out to dinner, an unhappy evening made more difficult by the arrival of Severus and Lucius Malfoy at a nearby table.

Snape & Others: 

O Mine Enemy: Severitus, long. When Harry finds an injured Snape on his doorstep and must hide him from the Dursleys, he has no idea that this very, very bad day will be the start of something good. Alternate 6th summer (and part of the school year): post-OotP; ignores HBP and DH. No slash, no romance. NOW COMPLETE!

I Know Not, and I Cannot Know; Yet I Live and I Love: Severus Snape has his emotions in check. He knows that he experiences anger and self-loathing and a bitter yearning, and that he rarely deviates from that spectrum… Until the first-year Luna Lovegood arrives to his class wearing a wreath of baby’s breath. Over the next six years, an odd friendship grows between the two, and Snape is not sure how he feels about any of it.

Second Life: What happens when two men are given a second chance. Snape & Sirius. 

Not Entirely Tedious: Young Professor Severus Snape shows up for a meeting, but the only other person there is the Deputy Headmistress. He wants to leave and return later, after the other participants will have arrived, but Professor McGonagall explains why that is impossible. Cross about having his plans for the day disrupted for a meeting that’s not taking place, Snape resents having to spend the afternoon with McGonagall. She doesn’t seem very pleased, either, but is content to relax and wait. Snape isn’t so patient, and soon manages to annoy his companion.

The Young Potions Professor: The staff avoided him like the plague, ignored him, or straight up left when he went into the staff room. And the worst thing was that they didn't even try to hide their collective disgust for him. If he got into the staff room in the morning and any of them were there, they would immediately get up and go sit on the furthest side of the room, as far from him as possible.

Slytherin Career Day: The student of Slytherin House were born with everything: wealth, prestige and pure wizarding blood. Now it's Severus Snape's job to help them find the one thing they don't have: careers.

In Another Lifetime: HP AU. In a world where Tom Riddle was slaughtered, the wizarding wars did not occur, and Albus Dumbledore promoted peace in Hogwarts, Lily Evans and Severus Snape did the impossible: they remained lifelong friends. Snape meets his potential, and has a shot at happiness along the way.

immortalists with points to prove: The Snape kid is hardly a hero. Then again, neither is Alastor.

[spacerockfloater]

Every time Team Black stans talk about Rhaenyra’s bastards and the Dragon Twins as if they’re blessings upon this earth, an angel loses its wings.

Like, okay. They’re children, I���m excusing all of them up to a certain point. But they’re some of the most vicious, aggressive, cowardly, snotty brats we’ve ever seen in this franchise and pretending that they’re not is so foul.

Lucerys is a hypocritical twat that bullied the boy he grew up with because he didn’t have a dragon, but then he’s totally okay hanging out with Rhaena who doesn’t have one either. And then he pulls out a knife and blinds Aemond for no fucking reason, after his gang attacked him first, and faces zero consequences for his actions. He eventually grows up to become an even worse person by literally laughing in his cousin’s face, whom he disabled. And then he tries to boss lord Borros around by telling him that he’s obligated to ally with Rhaenyra even if there isn’t anything in him for it.

Jacaerys is also very two faced for the exact same reasons as Lucerys, with the addition of having anger management issues. Like, remember how he beats the living shit out of his little brother when they’re training at the beach, kicks him to the ground and grabs him by the throat because he is upset their uncles are better warriors than them? That’s the good future king you’re all talking about? He is already obsessed with the idea of becoming king, to the point that his own mother has to remind him that she’s actually alive and well and he would have to wait a good fucking while before his dreams come true. That’s actually so sick on his behalf. Not to mention that he very likely married Sara Snow, betraying his fiancée, in order to gain the Starks’ help, which is very dishonourable. At least Lucerys told Borros he’s betrothed and refused to marry one of his daughters to get his support, I’ll give him that.

Baela is a deranged evil girl who was ready to throw hands on sight, too. And have we forgotten that she becomes a drunkard and whoremonger who spends her money gambling in the rat pits, the places where children fight one another in King’s Landing, once she grows up, or is it wrong only when Aegon II does it?

Rhaena is an aggressive coward who seems more preoccupied with the acquisition of a dragon than her mother’s death. She didn’t have the guts to go and claim Vhagar, but she feels powerful enough to confront Aemond when she has three people backing her up.

Finally, even without taking all of their problematic traits into account, these people are so severely uninteresting and unimpressive. Lucerys does not convince Borros to side with his mother and drops dead like a fly. Joffrey gets shrugged off by Syrax and plummets to his demise. Jacaerys is immediately killed during his embarrassing attempt to fight the Triarchy, not to mention that he was the reason his youngest half siblings were captured and nearly killed because he had the brilliant idea of sending them away. Baela loses the only dragon fight she was ever part of to Aegon II and Sunfyre who were very injured by a previous fight already! And Rhaena is just… there. Doing nothing. Never avenging her husband’s death, eventually marrying a Hightower. Yikes.

Are there much more ill behaved children in ASOIAF? Yeah, for sure, but we actually acknowledge that children like Aegon II and Joffrey Baratheon are pieces of shit. But if we could like, stop glorifying these four mediocre and borderline malicious kids solely because some of you feel the need to ride the dicks of everyone who is part of Rhaenyra’s crew, that would be great. They might be children, but they’re children with shady, putting it mildly, personalities, wielding new-clear weapons of mass destruction who actively participated in a war, especially Jacaerys and Baela. They sure were victims of the world they were raised in, but they were aggressors as well. And like, this is the ASOIAF universe, nearly all of our protagonists are children. We can’t constantly apply modern day morals and coddle them forever because “OMG, they are just babies!”, unless we are ready to apply the same logic on the Targtowers, who were basically the same age as Rhaenyra and Daemon’s children.

[gor3-hound]

jujutsu kaisen works (dark content)

☆ salvation

ft. cult leader!suguru geto x reader

tw: non/dub-con, corruption

“Thank you for your help, Master Geto. I feel a lot better now. It's been a while since I managed to get a full-night's sleep.” You reply, offering him a gentle smile. Your eyes still look a little hazy, as if you're about to fall asleep any moment. Suguru decides to put his plan into action.

You're not quite delirious enough to miss the way his hand wanders along your side, caressing the curve of your hip and giving it a squeeze before he slips his hand under your shirt, feeling the fever hot skin of your stomach. His eyes flick up as he hears the cup being set on the table, your brows furrowed in confusion.

☆ daddy's home

ft. real dad!toji x reader

tw: incest

“Ah. You're my favourite, anyway.” He tells you, and you smile. You know you're only his favourite because you put up with his shit, but it still makes you happy to hear him say that. You can see the way his lips curl into a smirk at that, and he slowly drags his gaze along your body. You're not sure you appreciate the way he's looking at you, though. Like, it's great to get some attention from your dad for once, but that doesn't exactly mean you want him looking at you like you're a piece of meat.

☆ bark or bite - commission

ft. real dad!toji x reader

tw: incest, dub-con

“One more fuckin’ word, sweetheart. I dare ya. Always wanna act like a bitch with Daddy, huh? You're gonna get fuckin’ treated like one.” He hisses, grabbing you by your hair to tug your head back harshly. “Pretty mouth like yours should only be used for one thing, but mutts like you love to bite. Daddy's gonna have to make sure ya can't.” He snaps the collar in place first, and that's already enough to get you begging. All the 'no, daddy's and 'please, I'm sorry's in the world couldn't stop him now, not with how rapidly his cock is filling out. It's hot, almost gets him as worked up as when he squeezes that little throat with his hand. The bone gag comes next, and he even got you a pretty one, the pink leather straps matching the collar. He sees your jaw clench, and then you're tugging your face away disobediently. You're even a fucking brat being faced with your punishment.

☆ written all over your face - commission

ft. naoya zenin x puppy!reader

tw: hybrid mistreatment, cruel naoya, forced cosmetic procedures

He kneels behind you, spreading your folds with two fingers, humming in satisfaction as strings of slick spread and break at his actions. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t pick out a puppy for that exact reason - a few words of praise, and you were soaked. He slips a finger deep into your cunt, adding another one and scissoring them open before groaning at the tightness. You felt like a virgin, too. Perfect. He pulls his fingers out and licks them clean, wiping his spit off on your clothes before he pulls them back on. He gives your ass a few pats as he stands up, turning around to bang a few times on the door. ”Hey! I’ll take her.”

☆ give me love - commission

ft. naoya zenin x reader

tw: incest, verrryyy light dub-con

Growing up in the Zen'in clan taught you one important lesson - women would always be seen as inferior to men. It did not matter how hard you worked to prove yourself to the Elders in the clan. You were a woman, and that was crime enough.

More than anyone, Naoya had every right to resent you. Your mere existence was an inconvenience to him, but more than that, your birth dishonoured him. He already had to fight harder than your brothers to climb to the top and become the head of the clan, but sharing a womb with a woman was unforgivable. He was constantly ridiculed for having a female twin, and in turn, you were treated as a stain on the Zen'in name for bringing shame to a Zen'in heir.

☆ 'til death do us part - commission

ft. naoya zenin x reader

tw: forced breeding, abuse

Being the favoured whore of Naoya Zen'in is considered an honourable position to have. You would be blind to miss the envious gazes of the other servants within the clan walls as you make your way through the halls once more, towards his room. You're sure their jealousy would dissipate if they knew how he truly was. He did not mask his attitude, his distaste for women as a whole – for prey women, no less. The extent of it was not something even you had anticipated. You had theoretically climbed the ranks to an easier job. After all, you'd gotten your own chambers. Three square meals most days. It was no wonder the other women wished they were in your position.

☆ sly fox // dumb bunny - commission

ft. zenin clan x reader

tw: dubcon

“You've all failed to produce any useful heirs to secure your place as the next head of the clan. Ogi has given us women, Toji - a bastard. My own son has not even produced a child, and as for you, Jinichi… I do not even wish to speak on the matter. You have somehow disappointed me more than your brother.”

Naobito kicks your trembling form forward, your body bare as you catch yourself before making contact with the floor. The wood is rough against your soft skin, your eyes flickering across the many faces of the Zen'in men staring down at you.

“A bunny. Not ideal, of course. But fertile enough I'm sure one of you will be able to fuck a useful heir into her by the end of today.”

☆ just wanna be yours - commission

ft. inumaki + yuta

cw: dubcon, coercion

Inumaki saved your life. He would do anything for you. He’d lost his fucking arm saving you. Didn’t he deserve more than a few phone calls when you had the spare time? It wasn’t fair. His entire career was at risk, all because of you – didn’t he deserve a little more than a bit of friendly concern?

[ilminnestrone]

Angeal Hewley.

Angeal Hewley, the child who learnt too early that things like money, toys and food are scarce commodities. That if you buy that fabulous wooden sword from the carpenter, you might not have the money to buy bread. That if you eat more than one slice of said bread with your dinner, you might have to skip breakfast tomorrow. Whose father taught him that values like loyalty, respectability and honour are also scarce commodities that you can't afford to diminish or lose, because they're not easily earned back.

Angeal Hewley, the boy who soon learnt that health and time are scarce commodities too, when the same father fell ill in order to buy something beautiful, powerful and ultimately superfluous to make him happy: an equal exchange, a life for a life-taker, a death for an instrument of death. Happiness, however, was not part of the deal. Tears, however, he used all of them, and never cried again.

So Angeal Hewley, the young man, began to think that everything around him was a scarce commodity. Opportunities and failures. Victories and losses. Friends and foes. Leaving for Midgar meant holding on to the scarce commodity that was Genesis; joining the army, not losing the privilege of his time. Missions were a way out of poverty. Returning victorious was a way out of dishonour.

But he couldn't afford to waste even his days off sleeping in and lazing around. Every free minute was hoarded for the lean times. Every hobby was a way of saving for later: cooking a meal in advance for the bad days when even chewing seemed an insurmountable obstacle; growing plants so that when the time came for them to bloom, there would be something pretty to look at; taking a photograph to remember happy moments when in times of misery.

He couldn't waste kisses on people he'd never see again. Pleasure was a scarse commodity too, lovers just another beautiful thing not to be overused for fear of rusting or scratching them: the rare times, their satisfaction came first, and he was happy with the leftovers, as if it were impossible to enjoy both equally. “Live a little,” someone told him, while he was still buried inside them; but what if he had wasted a little life in doing so?

Angeal Hewley, the man who wondered if love was a scarce commodity when he discovered there were two men he wanted by his side. Who wondered again as he became more father than teacher to a boy too young to play in the war. That he was certain that innocence surely is, when he saw him kill for the first time and saw him realise that it was anything but a game.

Angeal Hewley, who would discover that unspoken words cannot be saved for later. Who  hoped to the last that even pain was a scarce commodity, as he watched the man he had grown up with rotting before his eyes, and the mind of the only other companion he had ever had fading day by day: the day he realised that his body and mind were degrading, he hoped that his suffering might lessen that of Genesis and Sephiroth. Who prayed that death itself was a scarce commodity, when he asked Zack to kill him, and that his sacrifice might spare that of others.

It turns out that if there is one thing that is by no means a scarce commodity, it is the greed of the masters.

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔈𝔵𝔭𝔩𝔬𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔡 - 𝔇𝔯𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔐𝔢 ℑ𝔫𝔰𝔞𝔫𝔢

[sadiesm]

isn't it all about old friends?

ROH Death Before Dishonour 2011, via Get Lost Photography / Swing Time, Zadie Smith / reDRagon AMA / PWG All-Star Weekend XI Night Two, via Mikey Nolan Photography / adamcolepro on Instagram / Walking Home, Marie Howe / ROH Killer Instinct 2012 by Get Lost Photography, via fyindywrestling / Kyle O'Reilly via Fightful / A letter to W.D. Snodgrass, Anne Sexton / WWE NXT, via samsbvcky / AEW Unrestricted: Kyle O'Reilly, via Fightful / White Ferrari, Frank Ocean / WWE NXT, via En El Ring / The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows / AEW Dynamite 11/13/2024 / whitealbum

[volklana]

Everything I Do. I Do It For You

Alfred's Daughter x Sihtric

Title Comes From This Song:

Fic Idea Curtesy of the ever amazing @whitedarkmoonflower : 💖💖

I was just dreaming of a story like Aramis und Anne just with Sihtric where Uhtred's pretty boys are tasked with safeguarding a princess (Alfred's daughter) and they are attacked and have to hide and ... you know what happens with Aramis and Anne in the monastery...

Warnings: Themes of domestic abuse. Violence and unwanted sexual comments/advances.

*Not as proof read as I would have liked*

The news from Kent left Aethelfaed reeling.

There had been a Danish incursion on the city of Canterbury, and the Lord, your husband had been too weak to banish them and was forced to concede some of his lands to the Danes, but to make matters worse it was being entirely blamed on you, her little sister.

“They are calling her Royal Whore,” she cried, pacing around the room and Uhtred reached out a hand to try and steady her, “What are we to do Uhtred?” she begged, biting the skin around her thumb, a nervous habit she had since she was a child.

“There can be no truth to it, Lady,” Uhtred reassured, “Y/n would never conspire with the Danes, she would never threaten Edward’s rule this way. She would not dishonour the memory of your Father.”

“We must go to her, we must do something!” she cried.

“You cannot Lady,” Aldhelm begged, “Mercia cannot be seen to interfere in this matter, it would be an attack of Kent’s autonomy, it would bring their fyrd’s upon us, it would mean war.”

“And so it should. They intend to put her sister to death,” Uhtred insisted and her face softened at him.

“Does my father’s name mean nothing?” she despaired, “She is a daughter of Alfred. Sister to the King of Wessex. My little sister,” her tears were flowing freely and both men wanted nothing more than to reach out and console her.

“I will go to Kent and I will retrieve her,” Uhtred promised and Aldhelm wilted,

“Uhtred you are too recognisable, and you are Edward’s man, this would be seen as Wessex interfering, and not on Edward’s orders.”

“He’s right,” Athelflaed cried, burying her head in her hands “She is lost to us.”

“I will go Lord,” Sihtric’s voice cut through the tension and everyone turned to face him “I will go and I will take her back safely Lady, upon my word, I will return her to you.”

“Sihtric,” Atheleflaed cried and sprung forward, not caring for etiquette or order and pulled him into a strong gripped embrace.

“You will be killed if you are caught,” she all but whispered to him.

“If you please, the Lady Y/N has always been kind to me and I would not see her abandoned to this fate,” he replied and she smiled sadly at him through her tears.

“There is an abandoned monastery along the old Roman road,” Uhtred instructed as Sihtric was readying his horse “If you can get to her we will meet you there,” Uhtred promised, grasping the young Dane by the back of his neck in affection.

“I will not fail you, Lord,” he promised.

“You never have!” Uhtred confirmed and the two embraced in promise that they would see each other soon. 

It did not take long for him to find you, but nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you when he slit the throat of the man standing guard outside your room of confinement, pushing the heavy door open to find you, hair down in loose curls, not plaited in the way he was used to seeing you and in nothing but your night shift, your lip was split and your cheek was marked red where you had been struck. Your hands were tied, your eyes wide and wild as if you were expecting someone else, another tormentor he thought distastefully. 

“Sihtric,” you gasped, frozen in place, taking him in as if he were an apparition of the Holy Ghost before you.

“Can you walk my Lady? We do not have much time.”

“Yes, yes!” you promised, running towards him, and you ran around corners, pressing your backs against stone walls whenever you heard voices, and continuing down countless stone steps until you were out into the freedom of the night air, down into the courtyard and Sihtric led you through a crack in the wall where he had left his horse, hoisted you up and kicked off into a gallop, away into the night.

The bells began to ring in the city behind you and Sihtric rode his horse for as long as could until the horse threatened to collapse from exhaustion.

It killed him to do it, because he loved the mare and she had been nothing but loyal to him but he knew he had to set her loose as soon as he deemed he was far enough away to maintain the lead, to avoid being tracked. 

He led you into the forest and filled his water pouch and pressed it to your lips, which you gulped gratefully.

He took his dagger and sliced at the ropes binding your hands, sighing when he saw the angry red skin where the rope had burned your wrists. 

You stood facing him for a moment before you thrust yourself into his arms, crying freely as his strong arms held you in place.

“I knew you would come for me. I knew it would be you.” 

“I promised I would always protect you,” he whispered into your hair and you pulled away to look into his mismatched eyes.

Sihtric had saved your life once, years ago, before you had been sent off like a brood mare to marry that Lord in Kent, when you and the Lady Aelswith had been set upon by a hungry mob, he had picked you up, your gown in tatters and carried you to safety, and he still wore the silver chain you had given him as recompense. It was the Christian Cross, he did not believe in your nailed god but when you had placed it around his neck and promised him it would keep him safe he did not have the heart to deny you.

And throughout the many battles he had survived since then, he would never admit to the amount of times he had pulled the chain from his undershirt and held it tightly until the sharp edges of the cross hurt his palm. 

“It will protect you as you have always protected me,” you whispered to him, looking up at him through your lashes and his heart had all but stopped in your chest. 

There had been something between you since then, some unspoken, unacted upon ‘thing,’ but it was there nonetheless, and you knew that Sihtric would lay down his life for you if it came to it.

He had watched you from the shadows for years, all those times Uhtred spent around your Father, around Aethelflaed, he was always there watching you with those huge beautiful eyes and the ‘thing’ had always been there. 

Sihtric would have walked through the night, following the river and the bright light of the full moon, until it led him to the old Roman road but he could see that you were exhausted and you were beginning to shake. He had ridden for hours and he suspected that those searching for you would be heading towards Winchester, not expecting you to be heading towards Aylesbury and especially not along the old Roman road. Or so he hoped so least. 

“We will rest here,” he finally whispered into the night, you had come along a little creek in the river and you both climbed down the bank where the overgrowth of roots and brambles allowed the perfect hiding spot, and he parted the thorns with his sword for you to crawl in and he followed behind.

He shrugged off his riding cloak and wrapped you up in it, rubbing his hands along your arms to try and warm you up, but your teeth still chattered.

“May I?” he asked and you nodded your head as he pulled you onto his lap and closed his arms around your body.

It was inappropriate and it was brazen, but it would be of no use if he carried your body back to Aylesbury because you had frozen to death in the night.

Your bare feet were like blocks of ice to touch and he fumbled with his sheepskin boots, pulling them off to get to his yarn socks, that he pulled off his feet and placed on yours, pulling his boots back on over his bare feet.

You thanked him profusely and he understood that you were ashamed of your predicament, you had lived a life of privilege and you were not adapted to the elements, Sihtric on the other hand had slept outside both willingly and as punishment more times than he could count. 

You were fighting sleep and he squeezed you lightly “It’s alright Lady, close your eyes and rest. I will keep watch and you will need your strength for the journey tomorrow.” 

Your head finally slumped against his chest and your breath evened out indicating that you had finally given in to sleep. 

When you woke in the morning, Sihtric was absent, so you ventured out to find him standing knee high in the flowing waters of the creek, catching fish with his bare hands and throwing them onto the bank. You stood for a moment watching him in silence, his naked torso gleamed under the morning sun and you watched his muscles contort and move with his efforts , until a glint of silver caught your eye.

“You still wear it?” you said softly, referencing the silver cross chain around his neck, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Yes, Lady,” he replied, taking it in his hands, and looking at you with such honesty it made you want to cry “It keeps me safe.”

“Sihtric, you do not have to call me Lady. Please call me by my name.”

He looked at you shyly for a moment before nodding and continuing his work.

He deemed it safe to light a little fire in the morning sun, and you watched him gut and cook the fish, gladly eating what he provided for you, and when the fire was safely put out, you once again began your travels towards the old Roman road. 

The sun was its highest peak and you were beginning to lag behind him a little when he heard it, the unmistakable sound of hooves.

“Quick, quick,” he ushered, grabbing your hand and breaking out into a sprint pulling you behind him, down into some marshes and he pulled you down.

You were distraught, “Please. Please Sihtric don’t let them take me back there.”

“On my life, I will keep you safe,” he promised and you buried your head in his chest as he shushed you, your breathing was quick and ragged and he placed a gentle hand over your mouth, and he squeezed his own eyes closed at the voices on the road, he begged his gods and your nailed god to let them pass on. 

“I get first go of her when we catch her,” one of them shouted obnoxiously. “If she’s good enough for Danish cock, she’s good enough for mine.”

His friends roared with laughter and you felt the blood rush to your face, you would have recognised that voice anywhere, the head of your husband’s house guard, you were still carrying the marks to your face from his last visit to your chambers.

“Do you think her brother will interfere?” another voice asked.

“Edward is an aresling. Alfred would have had our Lord’s head on a spike for ever accusing his daughter of such a thing.”

“Well maybe Edward knew she was a whore, that’s why he gave her away so willingly.”

A chorus of laughter rang out, but Sihtric sighed in relief as it moved out of earshot, they were moving onwards.

But he was startled to feel his hand was growing wet and only then did he realise that you were crying, and your teardrops were splashing onto the gentle hand he still had over your mouth.

He cupped your face gently until your ashamed eyes met his, “I will never, ever let them have you or hurt you, ever again,” he whispered earnestly and you cried a few more moments before you gathered yourself enough to nod.

The road was no longer safe and so you would make the rest of the journey through the marshes and trees following alongside the road. 

You hadn’t said a word since hearing your husband’s men’s taunts earlier and Sihtric had no idea how to break the silence, so he opted instead to make sure to share his water with you, and because you were only in socks, he carried you over the heaviest parts of marsh or mud and you thanked him profusely each time but said no more than that..

As darkness was beginning to swoop in, Sihtric was relieved to see the monastery's large presence begin to come into sight.

“We’re almost there my Lady,” he told you and you smiled weakly at him, and accepted his outstretched hand as he pulled you over some brambles. When he went to take his hand back, you held it tighter in yours and so he let you keep a hold of his hand in yours as you walked the remaining distance.

He had caught a rabbit earlier in the day and immediately set about lighting a small fire to cook it upon.

He called you for food and you were ringing your hair out, you had gone down to the stream behind to bathe and he wanted to scold you, tell you how dangerous that had been, but seeing as you were safe in front of him now, it would have been pointless. 

He tried not to laugh as you scoffed down your food, but he had known just how hungry the day’s travel had been for him and he was used to it, you on the other hand had lived a privileged life and never known real hunger.

As it came time to hunker down for the night you came and stood before Sihtric, who was adding more wood to the fire.

“Those men were right earlier,” you told him, breaking your hours long silence, and Sihtric shook his head in disagreement.

“Not about me being a whore. But, about Edward giving me away.”

Sihtric moved closer so he was standing directly in front of you. He too had gone to bathe in the stream and his curls were loose and damp.

“I was given to Godwin as a consolation for the death of his brother Sigebriht at the battle of Bendanford. If the men of Kent had not shown up when they did- Edward’s men were outnumbered, who knows what would have happened.”

Sihtric had fought in the battle of Bedanford and remembered all too well the lines breaking before the men of Kent turned up.

“But he was kind to you, before all this? The Lord Godwin?” he asked softly.

You smiled sadly and in the glow of the flames Sihtric could see the tears in your eyes.

“Not once. From the moment we married he was heavy handed and cruel and on our wedding night I was sure I would die, but Athelflaed assured me that was a husband’s way and that I must endure it for the sake of Wessex, and so I did.”

Sihtric scrunched his hand into a fist in rage with what you were telling him but he let you continue.

“None of it is true, what I am accused of. I never lay with another man except my husband in all my life. I never conspired with the Danes. I found correspondence between the Lord Sigebright and my own uncle Aethelwold who were conspiring to seize the throne from Edward when he was Edward Rex, before the battle of Bedandord, and my own husband has intentions of doing the same, and so he discredits me with these lies so nobody will believe the truth of what I have uncovered and once I am dead he will be free to marry his mistress. She is the one he has always loved, who has carried the children he refuses to denounce, and who sleeps in the Lord’s bedchambers, while I was confined to the room you found me in.” 

Sihtric could feel the tears in his own eyes as he watched you helplessly.

“Tomorrow Lord Uhtred will arrive and we will take you to your sister and you will never have to go back there again,” he promised, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“Then it is our last night together,” you whispered sadly and he nodded.

“My whole life I have been honour bound to serve my duty. To serve Wessex. It is true I have lived a privileged life, but I have never been free. I have never known love. Sihtric you are a kind and gentle man and any woman would be privileged to be loved by you, please,” you begged, taking his hand in yours. “If tonight is to truly be our last night, let me be loved by you, as I have loved you from afar for all these years.”

Sihtric’s face crumpled with emotion and he surged forward to capture your lips with his.

He worshipped every inch of your skin, kissing you in places you had never been kissed before. Pulling you apart with his hands and tongue before he had even pressed himself inside of you and you looked like a goddess underneath the glow of the fire.

“I should not be allowed to look upon you, let alone touch you,” he whispered.

You never knew love could feel this way. You were used to pain and punishment and being used for the satisfaction of your husband who never looked upon your face, you kept expecting Sihtric to flip you over and press your face against the wood, but he commanded you to keep your eyes on him at all times, and when you took the cross necklace in your hands and pulled him to you to kiss his lips he came inside you, collapsing down on top you, arms swooping underneath you to pull you to him, and tears slipped down your cheeks to know this would be the last time you had him like this.

“I have loved you all this time,” he admitted into your hair, he had pulled you close, encapsulating you in his strong arms, so that you may fall asleep together, and you snuggled in tight to his warmth as sleep began to overtake you.

“As I have loved you,” you replied drowsily. 

The next day Uhtred, Finan and Osferth arrived with horses and food, which you and Sihtric gladly ate before packing up and beginning the trek back to Aylesbury

When you stopped to make camp for the night, it was Osferth who offered you some furs and carried you over some stale bread and cheese whilst Sihtric was deep in conversion with Uhtred and Finan.

“Thank you Osferth,” you told him kindly.

“You know who I am?” he asked gently and you looked at him sadly and smiled before reaching out to grasp his arm “You are my brother,” you told him honestly and he sniffed and looked away.

“Your bastard brother,” he said bitterly, although it was not aimed at you.

“Am I your sister?” you asked him, and he turned to look at you with soft eyes, “You are.”

“Well then,” you said, squeezing his arm gently, “You are my brother.”

You broke some of the bread he had given you and offered it to him, and the tears in his eyes spoke volumes about how much this meant to him.

That night Sihtric snuck into your arms again, as Finan kept watch and you fell asleep once more in his embrace.

Finan, looked on in sympathy, they had all seen the way you two were around each other and he knew it could only end in pain for his Danish friend. 

When you finally reached Mercia Aethelflaed nearly knocked the wind from your lungs with the embrace she gave you, and she turned your face in her hands to examine your cut lip and marked face, 

She provided you with clean clothes and her servants washed you in warm water and when you finally joined her for dinner, Sihtric’s eyes were immediately on you.

When you finally relayed the whole story to her about your uncle’s betrayal and your husband’s own plans with the Danes her face was grim.

“Maybe we can convince him to accept a divorce and the promise of no interference from Wessex and Mercia?” Aldhelm suggested “If Edward will agree to it.”

“Edward is proud,” Uhtred offered “But if he knew the whole story, he might.”

The doors to the Great Hall suddenly opened with a bang and a group of men marched their way inside led by none other than your brother and following behind was your husband.

“Is she here?” Edward demanded, eyes searching the table until his eyes landed on yours and the fury within them made you shrink.

“Edward!” Aethelflaed pleaded, affronted by his lack of regard in her hall.

“Be silent you!” he spat “My own sister commits treason and the other steals her away from her husband in the night in an attempt to thwart justice. And not one person thought to inform their King.”

Everyone was standing and Sihtric was beside you in a heartbeat.

“I am not going back!” you cried and Edward’s nose flared “You will do as you are told!”

“You are in my country,” Athelflaed warned “And you will not march into my hall and make demands. We will talk about this calmly and rationally.” 

Edward banged his fists on the table causing Athelflaed to jump “There is no discussion to be had,she is going back to her husband to answer for her crimes against Kent and Wessex.”

You swiped Sihtric’s dagger from its pelt and held the blade to your throat, “I will end my life here of my own volition, but I will never return to him.”

“No!” Aethelflaed and Sihtric begged you to put the blade down.

“Do it and be done,” your husband sneered and Edward regarded him from the corner of his eye.

“Everyone out! Leave me to talk to my sisters. Out!” he commanded.

You lowered the dagger slowly and Sihtric took it from you with shaking hands and wide eyes. 

“Sihtric,” Uhtred called but he remained frozen to his spot in front of you.

“Sihtric,” Aethelflaed said a little more softly “She will be safe,” Sihtric nodded slowly before making to depart with Uhtred and his men.

“You too!” Sihtric spat at your husband who had remained as if he was exempt from Edward’s order.

“Sihtric, you need to cool it,” Uhtred warned his friend who was glaring daggers at your turd of a husband “You are too close to her, you will give yourself away and put her in more danger.”

Sihtric’s face pulled up into a frown and Uhtred softened, “She is being accused of sleeping with Danes, that is a lie, but do not make her accusations become true by exposing your love now!” 

Uhtred was right, but that did not make it any easier for Sihtric to swallow.

“Where did you find the letter?” Edward asked, resting his chin on his joined hands.

“It was buried between the pages of the Lord Sigebriht’s bible,” you all but whispered, “Father’s bible was stripped from me when I was banished from Godwin’s chambers, I requested another and that was the one brought to me.”

“And Godwin’s collaboration with the Danes, how did you learn this?”

“The head of his household guard used to come to my chambers drunk to torment me. One night he came boasting that I was to be given to the Danish leader in exchange for free passage through Kent into Wessex. My husband has wanted an excuse to rid of me so he may marry his mistress, she is pregnant with another of his children as we speak.”

Edward slumped down into his chair and ran his hands over his face.

“The Danes were in Canterbury upon his request, they did not attack of their own volition,” Aethelflaed added.

“Brother,” you cried crouching down beside him and taking your hands in his “When have you ever known me to be dishonest. Have I not always done my duty for crown and country?”

Edward sighed and nodded, running a hand over your marked cheek

“From the day we were married he has hurt me, belittled me and defiled me but I stayed for my duty to you as your sister, and for our Father’s vision of England. I have never asked you for anything but now I am pleading before you and God, release me from that man. Grant him divorce so he may marry his mistress and I will stay here in Mercia and serve our sister, or I will go to Abbess Hild and take the vows, but I beg do not send me back to that man.”

“You would take the vows?” Edward asked sadly, “Commit your life to the monastery?”

“If that is what it takes,” you answered truthfully. You briefly thought about Sihtric standing outside the door and your heart sank, you knew there was no reality on Earth where you might be allowed to be together, and you had already asked enough from your brother this night.

“Will you ask Lord Uhtred to return,” he asked and you went to fetch the Lord.

“Godwin cannot go unpunished,” Aethelflaed hissed, “As long as he remains Kent will always offer free passage of the Danes into Wessex.”

“Agreed,” Edward nodded and then Uhtred was by his side.

“What would you suggest to do in my shoes Lord Uhtred?” he asked and Uhtred considered his words for a moment.

“You must be seen to do justice Lord King,” he replied “If he tells lies and he communicates with enemies perhaps removing him of his tongue would forbid him from ever doing this kind of damage again.” 

“My Father let my uncle live when he should have put a knife through his heart.”

“He should have,” Uhtred agreed “But it was his poisoned tongue that did the damage, it is that that should have been cut from him, not an eye.” 

“Have my household guard seize the Lord Godwin,” Edward instructed Uhtred, “There is to be a trial in the morning.” 

You dropped to your knees and buried your head in your brother's hands as you thanked him over and over and over again

You were not taking Sihtric’s departure well. You could not eat and many nights you found yourself laying in bed, candles burning down to the wick as you stared up at the ceiling in tears.

You had gone to see him the night before he was to depart Mercia, and even if you kissed him a thousand times it would never have been enough.

“I would marry you,” he had whispered into the night even though you both knew that it was impossible and you took his hand to your chest so that he may feel your heart beating.

“As long as I have breath in my lungs, my heart belongs to you and you only,” you promised him.

And the next day you watched him ride away with grace, holding back the tears until you could slink away to your room and you thought then that your tears would become an ocean. 

You were grateful to Edward for allowing you to stay in Mercia with your sister because at least you had her comfort and the company of little Aelfwynn to occupy some of your lonely days.

“She is a wretch without him,” Aethelflaed whispered one day to Aldhelm, who looked on in sympathy at your plight.

And time passed by in a haze of filling your days surrounded by those you loved and endless nights staring up at the wooden beams of your room, remembering what it was to have Sihtric’s arms around you.

And then the sickness came, you could not move more than a few paces without vomiting and you could barely hold any of your meals down and Aethelflaed was so concerned she called for both a laece to come and partake in the letting of your blood and a healer to give you herbs in an attempt to make you well again.

“I refuse to lose you now Sister,” she had cried over your sleeping form whilst the laece attached the leeches to your arm.

It was however the healer who discovered what illness you were plagued with; you were with child.

“The child is Sihtric’s?” Aethelflaed asked softly when you were finally able to make it out of bed and all you could do was stare at your feet as you nodded solemnly. 

“The child will be born a bastard unless you claim it is Godwin’s,” she said downcast.

“No,” you cried hysterically, hand instinctively flying to your stomach “That man can have no claim to my child!”

“Y/n,” she hissed. “Don’t you understand unless you do this your child will be sent to the monasteries to be raised as a bastard, you will be forbidden to see them, our Mother will ensure to it.”

“I will marry him,” you pleaded. “He said that he would marry me. I want to go to him. Let me marry him, please Aethelflaed I beg of you.”

“You cannot,” she cried, “My darling girl, the daughter of Alfred cannot marry a Dane, let alone bear his child.”

She took your hand and directed her gaze towards her own little girl who was playing unaware “I know this better than anyone.”

You allowed her to pull you to her as you cried helplessly upon her shoulder.

You were standing under the summer sun watching Aelfwynn play, her laughter filled the air and you watched her dance under sunbeams, spinning wildly and you suddenly felt a jolt of lightning shoot through your body and the thought of the little life growing inside you.

Your baby would be half of Sihtric. Testimony to the love you had shared for years now, and even if it boiled down to just that one night of passion it had meant more to you than any other interaction your whole life.

You thought about Osferth. About Edward's two small children, denounced and forced to grow up in religious orders away from their parents, and about Sihtric himself, all children who had never known love, only punishment for the actions of their parents and your mind was made up.

If there was punishment to come, if it meant forever to be disowned by your family, to never speak to your own mother again, then you would endure it. You would receive the punishment so that your own child would grow up in a house where they knew they were loved and even though it would kill you to walk away from your sister, you knew you had to go to Sihtric.

You left in the night with nothing but the clothes upon your back, and you rode for three days in your condition until you tracked him down.

When you broke the news he fell upon his knees and placed his head upon your stomach, his hands rubbing the swell of skin there and he was crying.

“I have nothing to offer you both,” he cried and you carded your fingers through his hair.

“All we need is your love,” you promised him.

“Y/n you have lived a life of privilege, all I have is a tiny home, I am not a rich man you will not have the riches you are accustomed to.”

“Sihtric, I have known privilege my whole life and none of it matters a wit to how you make me feel, I would rather have nothing with you than everything without you.”

He rose and cupped your face, eyes swimming in emotion “Your family will disown you.”

“Yes,” you replied but you had made your peace with that, “Initially, but this too will pass and I know Aethelflaed will never truly turn her back on me, my Mother however, I know she will be lost to me.”

Sihtric swiped his thumb over your cheek and his eyes darted down to your lips.

“I am the most selfish man in the world to allow you to do this but I am running out of will to try and talk you into walking away. I have loved you for as long as I can remember,” he whispered.

“So stop trying to send me away,” you laughed and he laughed a short breathy laugh.

“You know. Surely you must know, that everything I do, I do it for you. For your happiness. For your protection.”

“And I appreciate it but Sihtric you cannot change my mind on this. My heart is set on you.” 

Uhtred damn near had a stroke when the two of you went before him in the morning to ask for permission to marry.

“You will forever be at the loss of your family,” he tried to reason and you smiled softly at Osferth.

“Not all of my family, I have a brother who was also ostracised and he has turned out just fine. If he will have me as his sister, I will not be alone.”

“Always,” he smiled, cheeks tinged pink.

“Well then, not all of my family,” you confirmed.

“Aethelflaed will have me murdered,”Uhtred protested.

“She will forgive you as she always does,” you remained steadfast.

“The Lady Aelswith-”

“-Has stripped enough children away from loving parents, she will not be taking my child away unless it is from my dead breast.”

“Sihtric?” Uhtred pleaded, begging his friend to talk some sense.

“It has been her from the moment I laid eyes upon her Lord,” he said and Uhtred had no choice but to relent, for he himself had always been free to follow his own heart, Isolde, Gisela and Aethelflaed, how could he in good conscience deny you both your chance and so he consented.

And so you married.

In time you would carry three more children for Sihtric who remained the light of your whole life.

You were happier in this part of life that you had ever been before, even if you never got to make amends with Edward before he died and even if Aethelflaed had to meet you in secret before she too passed away.

Sometimes in the middle of the night Sihtric would whisper into the darkness asking if you ever regretted your decision and your answer always remained the same.

Never, not once.

Tagging:

@canyonmoon-2 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @thenameswinter99 @foxyanon

@acdassenza @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @gemini-mama

@troyottonick @alexagirlie

a-beaverhausen nebulamorada izzydlb knight-of-flowerss

justcuriousandbored

[theotherbuckley]

Okay but Tommy drops out of high school — he told his father he was gay and he told him he could either be homeless or go to military school. He goes to military school and joins the army and he likes flying the helicopters because it means he doesn’t have to do any of the killing himself. And he makes some friends.

There's one guy who's like the squad leader who's a few years old and built like a Greek god and Tommy's young and a little bit in love. And they're friends maybe even family because this whole group of people spend every waking (and sleeping) moment together. And they all talk like a family and they all say they love each other and tease each other and it's nice. And one night it's just the two of them trading a flask of some sort of alcohol that Tommy doesn't know the name of and the man asks Tommy why he joined the army and where he wants to be in five years and Tommy trusts this man. He's half way in love with him so he doesn't even think twice before he tells the story about the time he came out to his family and his father nearly beat him to death before sending him here. And the conversation tapers off after that and he doesn’t register the change in the air but when he wakes up the next morning he’s being dishonourably discharged because he poses “unacceptable risk to the high standards of morale, good order and discipline, and unit cohesion that are the essence of military capability”. He knows what that means.

Tommy joins the fire department because he doesn’t know what else to do. He represses anything regarding his sexuality because he knows now that it’s wrong. He almost feels like he has a family again because his captain seems to like him and some of the guys are cool even if they say things he doesn’t agree with. And then he starts agreeing because maybe they’re right and he’s wrong and he’s just inherently wrong. So he follows their leads and is just straight racist because that’s how he can fit in.

And then a black lesbian woman joins and says she’s a black lesbian woman and Tommy doesn’t understand that either because you can’t be queer you just can’t be because it’s wrong.

But he nearly dies and and an Asian man saves his life and a black lesbian woman comes up with a better idea than any of them had and she tells them she’s no different and she is just as capable. So he improves himself he does and he tries to be better but he still can’t be who he is because the last 2 times he was honest about that he was betrayed.

Tommy leaves the 118 and “don’t ask, don’t tell” is lifted and he meets this guy he likes who likes him back and the 217 don’t seem to have a problem with the gender neutral pronouns and he slowly but surely lets himself open up again and be who he is and when the thing with that guy doesn’t work out because he’s moving to New York and Tommy’s not sure he’s ready to leave, it’s okay because his crew is there and they support him and he can still be himself.

[signalburst]

Shōgun Historical Shallow-Dive: the Final Part - The Samurai Were Assholes, When 'Accuracy' Isn't Accurate, Beautiful Art, and Where to From Here

Final part. There is an enormous cancer attached to the samurai mythos and James Clavell's orientalism that I need to address. Well, I want to, anyway. In acknowledging how great the 2024 adaptation of Shōgun is, it's important to engage with the fact that it's fiction, and that much of its marketed authenticity is fake. That doesn't take away from it being an excellent work of fiction, but it is a very important distinction to me.

If you want to engage with the cool 'honourable men with swords' trope without thinking any deeper, navigate away now. Beyond here, there are monsters - literal and figurative. If you're interested in how different forms of media are used to manufacture consent and shape national identity, please bear with me.

I think the makers of 2024's Shōgun have done a fantastic job. But there is one underlying problem they never fully wrestled with. It's one that Hiroyuki Sanada, the leading man and face of the production team, is enthusiastically supportive of. And with the recent announcement of Season 2, it's likely to return. You may disagree, but to me, ignoring this dishonours the millions of people who were killed or brutalised by either the samurai class, or people in the 20th century inspired by a constructed idea of them.

Why are we drawn to the samurai?

A pretty badly sourced, but wildly popular history podcast contends that 'The Japanese are just like everybody else, only more so.' I saw a post on here that tried to make the assertion that the show's John Blackthorne would have been exposed to as much violence as he saw in Japan, and wouldn't have found it abnormal.

This is incorrect. Obviously 16th and 17th century Europe were violent places, but they contained violence familiar to Europeans through their cultural lens. Why am I confidently asserting this? We have hundreds of letters, journals and reports from Spaniards, Portuguese, Dutch and English expressing absolute horror about what they encountered. Testing swords on peasants was becoming so common that it would eventually become the law of the land. Crucifixion was enacted as a punishment for Christians - first by the Taiko, then by the Tokugawa shogunate - for irony's sake.

Before the end of the feudal period, battles would end with the taking of heads for washing and display. Depending on who was viewing them, this was either to honour them, or to gloat: 'I'm alive, you're dead.' These things were ritualised to the point of being codified when real-life Toranaga took control. Seppuku started as a cultural meme and ended up being the enforced punishment for any minor mistake for the 260 years the ruling samurai class acted as the nation's bureaucracy. It got more and more ritualised and flowery the more it got divorced from its origin: men being ordered by other men to kill themselves during a period of chaotic warfare. I've read accounts of samurai 'warriors' during the Edo period committing seppuku for being late for work. Not life-and-death warrior work - after Sekigahara, they were just book-keepers. They had desk jobs.

Since Europe's contact with Japan, the samurai myth has fascinated and appalled in equal measure. As time has gone on, the fascination has gone up and the horror has been dialled down. This is not an accident. This isn't just a change in the rest of the world's perception of the samurai. This is the result of approximately 120 years of Japanese government policies. Successive governments - nationalist, military authoritarian, and post-war democratic - began to lionize the samurai as the perfect warrior ideal, and sanitize the history of their origin and their heydey (the period Shōgun covers). It erases the fact that almost all of the fighting of the glorious samurai Sengoku Jidai was done by peasant ashigaru (levies), who had no choice.

It is important to never forget why this was done initially: to form an imagined-historical ideal of a fighting culture. An imagined fighting culture that Japanese invasion forces could emulate to take colonies and subdue foreign populations in WWI, and, much more brutally, in WWII. James Clavell came into contact with it as a Japanese Prisoner of War.

He just didn't have access to the long view, or he didn't care.

The Original Novel - How One Ayn Rand Fan Introduced Japan to America

There's a reason why 1975's Shogun novel contains so many historical anachronisms. James Clavell bought into a bunch of state-sanctioned lies, unachored in history, about the warring states period, the concept of bushido (manufactured after the samurai had stopped fighting), and the samurai class's role in Japanese history.

For the novel, I could go into great depth, but there are three things that stand out.

Never let the truth get in the way of a good story. He's a novelist, and he did what he liked. But Clavell's novel was groundbreaking in the 70's because it was sold as a lightly-fictionalised history of Japan. The unfortunate fact is the official version that was being taught at the time (and now) is horseshit, and used for far-right wing authoritarian/nationalist political projects. The Three Unifiers and the 'honour of the samurai' magnates at the time is a neat package to tell kids and adults, but it was manufactured by an early-20th century Japanese Imperial Government trying to harness nationalism for building up a war-ready population. Any slightly critical reading of the primary sources shows the samurai to be just like any ruling class - brutal, venal, self-interested, and horrifically cruel. Even to their contemporary warrior elites in Korea and China.

Fake history as propraganda. Clavell swallowed and regurgitated the 'death before dishonour', 'loyalty to the cause above all else', 'it's all for the Realm' messages that were deployed to justify Imperial Japanese Army Class-A war crimes during the war in the Pacific and the Creation of the Greater East Asian Co-Properity Sphere. This retroactive samurai ethos was used in the late Meiji restoration and early 20th century nationalist-military governments to radicalise young Japanese men into being willing to die for nothing, and kill without restraint. The best book on this is An Introduction to Japanese Society by Sugimoto Yoshio, but there is a vast corpus of scholarship to back it up.

Clavell's orientalism strays into outright racism. Despite the novel Shōgun undercutting John Blackthorne as a white savior in its final pages - showing him as just a pawn in the game - Clavell's politics come into play in every Asia Saga novel. A white man dominates an Asian culture through the power of capitalism. This is orthagonal to points 1 and 2, but Clavell was a devotee of Ayn Rand. There's a reason his protagonists all appear cut from the same cloth. They thrust their way into an unfamiliar society, they use their knowledge of trade and mercantilism to heroically save the day, they are remarked upon by the Asian characters as braver and stronger, and they are irresistible to the - mostly simpering, extremely submissive - caricatures of Asian women in his novels. Call it a product of its times or a product of Clavell's beliefs, I still find it repulsive. Clavell invents (nearly from whole cloth, actually) the idea that samurai find money repulsive and distasteful, and his Blackthorne shows them the power of commerce and markets. Plus there are numerous other stereotypes (Blackthorne's massive dick! Japanese men have tiny penises! Everyone gets naked and bathes together because they're so sexually free! White guys are automatically cool over there!) that have fuelled the fantasies of generations of non-Japanese men, usually white: Clavell's primary audience of 'dad history' buffs.

2024's Shōgun, as a television adaptation, did a far better job in almost every respect

But the show did much better, right? Yes. Unquestionably. It was an incredible achievement in bringing forward a tired, stereotypical story to add new themes of cultural encounter, questioning one's place in the broader world, and killing your ego. In many ways, the show was the antithesis to Clavell's thesis.

It drastically reigned in the anachronistic, ahistorical referencees to 'bushido' and 'samurai honor', and showed the ruling class of Japan in 1600 much more accurately. John Blackthorne (William Adams) was shown to be an extraordinary person, but he wasn't central to the outcome of the Eastern Army-Western Army civil war. There aren't scenes of him being the best lover every woman he encounters in Japan has ever had (if you haven't read the book, this is not an exaggeration). He doesn't teach Japanese warriors how to use matchlock rifles, which they had been doing for two hundred years. He doesn't change the outcome of enormous events with his thrusting, self-confident individualism. In 2024's Shōgun, Blackthorne is much like his historical counterpart. He was there for fascinating events, but not central. He wasn't teaching Japanese people basic concepts like how to make money or how to make war.

On fake history - the manufactured samurai mythos - it improved on the novel, but didn't overcome the central problems. In many ways, I can't blame the showrunners. Many of the central lies (and they are deliberate lies) constructed around the concept of samurai are hallmarks of the genre. But it's still important to me to notice when it's happening - even while enjoying some of the tropes - without passively accepting it.

'Authenticity' to a precisely manufactured story, not to history

There's a core problem surrounding the promotion and manufactured discussion surrounding 2024's Shōgun. I think it's a disconnect between the creative and marketing teams, but it came up again and again in advertising and promotion for the show: 'It's authentic. It's as real as possible.'

I've only seen this brought up in one article, Shōgun Has a Japanese-Superiority Complex, by Ryu Spaeth:

'The show also valorizes a supreme military power that is tempered by the pursuit of beauty and the highest of cultures, as if that might be a formula for peace. Shōgun displays these two extremes of the Japanese self, the savagery and the refinement, but seems wholly unaware that there may be a connection between them, that the exquisite sensibility Japan is famous for may flow from, and be a mask for, its many uses of atrocious domination.'

Here we come to authenticity.

'The publicity surrounding the series has focused on its fidelity to authenticity: multiple rounds of translation to give the dialogue a “classical” feel; fastidious attention to how katana swords should be slung, how women of the nobility should fold their knees when they sit, how kimonos should be colored and styled; and, crucially, a decentralization of the narrative so that it’s not dominated by the character John Blackthorne.'

It's undeniable that the 2024 production spent enormous amounts of energy on authenticity. But authenticity to what? To traditional depictions of samurai in Japanese media, not to history itself. The experts hired for gestures, movement, costumes, buildings, and every other aspect of the show were experts with decades in experience making Japanese historical dramas 'look right', not experts in Japanese history. But this appeal to 'Japanese authenticity' was made in almost every piece of promotional material.

The show had only one historical advisor on staff, and he was Dutch. The numerous Japanese consultants, experts and specialists brought on board (talked about at length in the show's marketing and behind the scenes) were there to assist with making an accurate Japanese jidaigeki. It's the difference between hiring an experienced BBC period drama consultant, and a historian specialising in the Regency. One knows how to make things look 'right' to a British audience. The other knows what actually happened.

That's fine, but a critical viewing of the show needs to engage with this. It's a stylistically accurate Japanese period drama. It is not an accurate telling of Japanese history around the unification of Japan. If it was, the horses would be the size of ponies, there would be far more malnourished and brutalised peasants, the word samurai would have far less importance as it wasn't yet a rigidly enforced caste, seppuku wouldn't yet be ritualised and performed with as much frequency, and Toranaga - Tokugawa - would be a famously corpulently obese man, pounding the saddle of his horse in frustration at minor setbacks, as he was in history.

The noble picture of restraint, patience, refinement and honour presented by Hiroyuki Sanada as Toranaga/Tokugawa is historical sanitation at its most extreme. Despite being Sanada's personal hero, Tokugawa Ieyasu was a brutal warlord (even for the standards of the time), and he committed acts of horrific cruelty. He ordered many more after gaining ultimate power. Think a miniseries about the Founding Fathers of the United States that doesn't touch upon slavery - I'm sure there have been plenty.

The final myth that 2024's Shōgun leaves us with is that it took a man like Toranaga - Tokugawa Ieyasu - to bring peace to a land ripped assunder by chaos. This plays into 19th century notions of Great Man History, and is a neat story, but the consensus amongst historians is if it wasn't Tokugawa, it would have been some other cunt. In many cases, it very nearly was. His success was historical contingency, not 5D chess.

So how did this image get manufactured, to the point where the Japanese populace - by and large - believes it to be true? Very long story short: after a period of rapid modernisation, Japan embraced nationalism in the late 19th century. It was all the rage. Nationalism depends on a glorified past. The samurai (recently the pariahs of Japanese history) were repurposed as Japan's unique warrior heroes, and woven into state education. This was especially heated in the 1920s and 30s in the lead up to the invasion of Manchuria and Japan's war of aggression in the Pacific. Nationalism + militarism = the modern Japanese samurai myth, to prepare men to obey orders unquestioningly from a military dictatorship.

This persists in the postwar period. Every year since 1963, Japan's state broadcaster NHK commissions a historical drama - a Taiga Drama, where many of this show's actors got their starts - that manufactures and re-enforces the idea of samurai as noble, artful, honourable people. Read a book - read a Wikipedia article! - and you'll see that most of it stems from Tokugawa-shogunate era self-propaganda. It's much like the European re-interpretation of chivalry. In Europe's case, chivalry in actual history was a set of guidelines that allowed for the sanctioned mass-rape and murder of civilians, with a side of rules regarding the ransoming of nobles in scorched-earth military campaigns. In Japan's case, historical figures that regularly backstabbed each other, tortured rival warriors and their lessers, and inflicted horrific casualties on the peasants that they owned (we have a term for that) are cast as noble, honourable, dedicated servants of the Empire.

Why does this matter to me? Samurai movies and TV shows are just media, after all. The issue, for me, is that the actors, the producers - including Hiroyuki Sanada - passionately extoll 'accuracy' as if they genuinely believe they're telling history. They talk emotionally about bushido and its special place in Japanese society.

But the entire concept of bushido is a retroactive, post-conflict, samurai construction. Bushio is bullshit. Despite being spoken of as the central tenet of 2024's Shōgun by actors like Hiroyuki Sanada, Tadanobu Asano, and Tokuma Nishioka, it simply didn't exist at the time. It was made up after the advent of modern nationalism.

It was used to justify horrendous acts during the late Edo period, the Meiji restoration, and the years leading up to the conclusion of Japan's war of aggression in the Pacific. It's still used now by Japan's primarily right-wing government to deny war crimes and justify the horrors unleashed on Asia and the Pacific during World War II as some kind of noble warrior crusade. If you ever want your stomach turned, visit the museum attached to Yasukuni Shrine. It's a theme park dedicated to war crimes denial, linked intimately to Japan's imagined warrior past. Whether or not the production staff, cast, and marketing team of 2024's Shōgun knew they were engaging with a long line of ahistorical bullshit is unknown, but it is important.

It's also important to acknowledge that, having listened to many interviews with Rachel Kondo and Justin Marks, they were acutely aware that they weren't Japanese, to claim to be telling an authentically Japanese story would be wrong, and that all they could do was do their best to make an engaging work that plays on ideas of cultural encounter and letting go. I think the 'authenticity!' thing is mostly marketing, and judicious editing of what the creators and writers actually said in interviews.

So... you hate the show, then? What the hell is this all about?

No, I love the show. It's beautiful. But it's a beautiful artwork.

Just as the noh theatre in the show was a twisting of events within the show, so are all works of fiction that take inspiration from history. Some do it better than others. And on balance, in the show, Shōgun did it better than most. But so much of the marketing and the discussion of this adaptation has been on its accuracy. This has been by design - it was the strategy Disney adopted to market the show and give it a unique viewing proposition.

'This time, Shōgun is authentic!*

*an authentic Japanese period drama, but we won't mention that part.

And audiences have conflated that with what actually happened, as opposed to accuracy to a particular form of Japanese propaganda that has been honed over a century. This difference is crucial.

It doesn't detract from my enjoyment of it. Where I view James Clavell's novel as a horrid remnant of an orientalist, racist past, I believe the showrunners of 2024's Shōgun have updated that story to put Japanese characters front and centre, to decentralise the white protagonist to a more accurate place of observation and interest, and do their best to make a compelling subversion of the 'stranger in a strange land' tale.

But I don't want anyone who reads my words or has followed this series to think that the samurai were better than the armed thugs of any society. They weren't more noble, they weren't more honourable, they weren't more restrained. They just had 260 years in which they worked desk-jobs while wearing two swords to write stories about how glorious the good old days were, and how great people were.

Well... that's a bleak note to end on. Where to from here?

There are beautiful works of fiction that engage much closer with the actual truth of the samurai class that I'd recommend. One even stars Hiroyuki Sanada, and is (I think) his finest role.

I'd really encourage anyone who enjoyed Shōgun to check out The Twilight Samurai. That was the reality for the vast majority of post-Sekigahara samurai

For something closer to the period that Shogun is set, the best film is Seppuku (Hara-Kiri in English releases). It is a post-war Japanese film that engages both with the reality of samurai rule, and, through its central themes, how that created mythos was used to radicalise millions of Japanese into senseless death during the war. It is the best possible response to a romanticisation of a brutal, hateful period of history, dominated by cruel men who put power first, every single time.

I want to end this series, if I can, with hope. I hope that reading the novel or watching the 1980 show or the 2024 show has ignited in people an interest in Japanese culture, or society, or history. But don't let that be an end. Go further. There are so many things that aren't whitewashed warlords nobly killing - the social history of Japan is amazing, as is the women's history. A great book for getting an introduction to this is The Japanese: A History in 20 Lives.

And outside of that, there are so many beautiful Japanese movies and shows that don't deal with glorified violence and death. In fact, it makes up the vast majority of Japanese media! Who would have thought! Your Name was the first major work of art to bridge some of the cultural animosity between China and Japan stemming from WW2, and is a goofy time travel love story. Perfect Days is a beautiful movie about the simple joy of living, and it's about the most Tokyo story you can get.

Please go out, read more, watch more. If you can, try and find your way to Japan. It's one of the most beautiful places on earth. The people are kind, the food is delicious, and the culture is very welcoming to foreigners.

2024's Shōgun was great, but please don't let that be the end. Let it be the beginning, and I hope it serves as a gateway for you.

And I hope our little fandom on here remembers this show as a special time, where we came together to talk about something we loved. I'll miss you all.