#to avoid waging war against the other kingdoms

[jabberwockprince]

modern otome games dont do it for me anymore bc even though some of them let you pick pronouns/gender, theyre still heavily written for women (which is fair, its OTOME game for a reason, i stopped being their target demographic years ago) who specifically love to be dominated and/or degrated to different degrees, most of the time being seduced/whisked away lowkey against their will, which leads me to believe modern otome are the equivalent of those books for sexually repressed wives

[adispit]

The Crown (100 followers special!)

Alpha! Rival king x alpha king m! reader

content warnings: bitching, reader gets turned into an omega against his will, noncon turned heavy dubcon, reader isn’t in the right of mind, breeding, dirty talk, degradation, cream pie, knotting, overstimulation, pwp, belly bulge

note: kinda went ham writing this wtf lmfao, anyways enjoy!

The tension in the room was palpable. As the one who wore the crown, your duty was just as heavy as the ornate gems that emboldened it. You were a young and green alpha, barely an adult at the ripe age of 18. Hastily made king, as your many brothers in line and father fell in the decades long battle against the opposing kingdom, your choice didn’t matter. The country needed someone to govern as soon as possible and you as the sole remaining heir was responsible. The whispers and scrutiny of the court didn’t help much either, the weight of responsibility of your decisions over the people and the waging war kept you awake at night, cold sweat dripping from your temples as you could almost hear the cries of your fellow soldiers perishing in battle.

Which took you into the present moment, where a heated debate was taking place of the next action that should be taken for the strife between your country and the rival nation. You sat in the heavy, intricately carved throne that seemed to press down on you, both a symbol of your power and a reminder of the immense responsibility you bore. The room was dimly lit by flickering torches, casting long, uneasy shadows on the stone walls. Around you, the advisors were gathered, their voices a murmur of concern and debate. “Thousand of soldiers have fallen in battle, we can’t take any more losses!” One of the advisors, his name you couldn’t really remember, argued fiercely with a hint of urgency. “The enemy is approaching closer day by day and the people are starving, we must surrender now to avoid total destruction!”

“Surrender?! That would cut off all means of escape! And you can’t possibly guarantee under the rule of the enemy’s rule, our people will be able to live peacefully!” Another advisor shot back, her voice sharp with defiance. Shifting uneasily on the throne, you felt the weight of their expectations bearing down on you. The advisors’ voices clashed, each presenting their case with unwavering conviction. Maps and documents spread out on the table before you seemed to blur as you struggled to focus on the conflicting arguments. Finally, you spoke, fingers drumming nervously on the table as you tried keep a steady tone amid the clamour. “How are you sure that surrender is the only viable option we have to take?” Your voice strained as you fidgeted restlessly.

The first advisor spoke, his gaze was intense, filled with concern. “The enemy’s forces are overwhelming. Continuing to resist will only lead to greater devastation. Surrender is the most rational choice to save lives.”The other advisor leaned closer, her eyes filled with determination. “We have not explored every diplomatic avenue. Surrender might be seen as defeat, but if we negotiate from a position of strength, we could secure better terms.” The room fell into a tense silence as every gaze fell upon you, the choice to surrender or negotiate hung heavily in the air.

However, you chose neither. “I have heard your concerns and arguments,” you began, your voice filled with unusual resolve. “We will not surrender.” Gasps echoed throughout the room as the disapproving gazes began pouring in but you pushed on. “As your king, no matter the outcome in this long war, we will push to the end. If we must fall, let it be with the knowledge that we fought to the last breath for our sovereignty and our principles. We will defend our country with all that we have, even if it means facing doom.” You were exhausted, the war taken its toll on you and you just wanted it to end. “Your majesty! You don’t understand, we-“ “Silence! This is an order from your king. I will now retire to my chambers.” Leaving no room for argument, you slipped away to the privacy and peace of your quarters, away from the shouts and protests of your counsel.

Chucking the heavy crown aside, you sank in your chair with a deep sigh. The flickering candlelight illuminating your weary face, an expression now often seen ever since you took on the role of king a few months ago. Absentmindedly tracing the patterns of the chair, the advisors arguments burst through your mind, doubt and despair both trapping you. God, not even having a moment to yourself was possible in the castle. You seriously needed a break from all the chaos, so you decided to slip out under the cover of night from the castle to the nearby forest, at the very edge of the country’s borders to seek some time to yourself.

As leaves crunched under your every step, the moon cast a gentle silvery glow over your cloaked form. The leaves in the tree branches rustled softly from the occasional breeze, the peace and quiet bringing about a pleasant atmosphere as you trekked through the woods. Arriving at a small clearing where a babbling creek lay, you finally let out an exhale you had been holding. Under the canopy of the stars, and no one around to constantly screech the phrase “Your Majesty!���, the sense of freedom you felt was truly unmatched. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to at least let out your worries, there wasn’t anyone around anyways… “Damn those old farts, it’s not like I even wanted to be king! I can literally see the court eyeing me like a piece of meat every time they argue about the war like I’m some kind of idiot! God, sometimes I wish I was just some simple commoner!” Fueled by your sudden rage, words rushed out your mouth, the confusion and rage you had held in for so long finally let out.

Oh. That actually felt…good. Unfortunately before you could continue, a voice interrupted you, “Your Majesty, are you okay…?” Whipping your head around, you were greeted at a sight of a golden-haired man donned in a commoner’s garb, standing there awkwardly at the entrance of the clearing. Caught off guard, you stumbled over your words, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. “Well, I …uh…! Sorry, you had to see that… that was pretty embarrassing of me haha…” You rubbed your neck sheepishly, mortified that one of your subjects had seen you so vulnerable. There was a heavy pause as your words hung in the air. The man’s expression softened, and he stepped forward, his tone empathetic. "Your Majesty, we all have our burdens. There’s nothing wrong with sharing your troubles. If you don’t mind sharing some of your problems with this humble subject, I would be happy to listen.”

The man’s unexpected understanding and calm demeanor helped ground you. Word after word, you shared about how you feel, the weight of the crown and its decisions, and the man patiently listened. Hours passed and you learnt the man’s name was Leo and he was an alpha. “Leo, thanks so much for listening to me.” You smiled shyly at him. “Not to mention, you’re really handsome too, I bet a girl or two would be interested in a guy who is as caring and good looking as you. Well too bad, I’m a male, an alpha and the king at that. Alphas can’t really be together.” You joked, failing to catch a brief piercing look that flashed in his eyes before he reverted back to his gentle expression at what you said. “No problem, Your Majesty, the pleasure is all mine.” He bowed. “I am glad you were able to feel better, but I must go. See you around.” Waving at him, you watched as he left the clearing. Weird, you never saw his face before in the servants of the castle…why did he say see you around? Oh well, you brushed it off as you headed back to the castle, it didn’t really matter.

As you approached the castle, you were greeted by the sight of the once-grand fortress, now a dark silhouette against the burning sky, that was surrounded by enemy forces. Smoke billowed from the battlements, and the air was thick with the acrid scent of battle. Panic and despair filled you, as their king where had you been? Shirking your responsibilities and leaving your own subjects vulnerable! Your heart sank as you rushed into the fray of battle where the throne room lay, as multiple corpses of your former subjects lay there, a stifling numbness filled you. Gritting your teeth, you decided to fight to the end and honour your words as their king. Brandishing your sword, you swung at the enemy soldiers, desperately seeking revenge for your fallen subjects. Unfortunately, resistance was futile at this point, most of your soldiers were dead. The enemy soldiers recognised you as the king and immediately incapacitated you. Just before you passed out, you swore you could see a familiar smile on someone approaching you.

“—— needs to be done.” “That’s not——!” You jolt awake to the sharp, discordant murmur of voices. Groggy and disoriented, you struggle to make sense of your surroundings around you. The invasion! Wide awake, you opened your eyes to see the familiar throne room and your wrists bound together as you sat on the throne. Enemy soldiers surrounded the hall as a golden-haired man in regal attire seemed to be having a conversation with someone. Wait. No way. Was it- “Leo!” You blurted out involuntarily. Noticing that you were awake, the man gestured for the other person and the soldiers to leave as he walked in your direction. As he came closer, his cerulean eyes met your shocked gaze, there was no mistaking it. He was Leo, the man you had confided in hours ago.

The kind expression on his face you had seen was now replaced with a taunting smirk, a sharp contrast to his former soothing demeanour. A wave of disbelief washed over you, leaving you momentarily paralysed. Tilting your chin up with his hand, he smiled evilly. “Oh, you naive thing. (Name), you were just pouring your heart out to me as your subjects were ruthlessly slaughtered…you truly are a great king…” An almost psychotic giggle left him as he sneered at you. “I was honestly surprised. I thought you were be more well, less stupid. It’s almost adorable really! To not even do your research about the very king that you were at war with, your innocence was so cute.” Disdain was evident in his tone as he made cruel jab after cruel jab at you.

“Just kill me.” You snarled at him, a fierce defiance radiating as you bared your fangs at him. However, your words seemed to take on the opposite effect of what you wanted as he only cooed at you mockingly. “Now, now, I can’t possibly do that. You were so cute in trusting me, I can’t possibly let you go now!” He grinned with malicious intent, his thoughts unpredictable as you glared at him. “The elders at home have been bothering me about getting a wife lately, and you seem to like me after our first meeting so why not make you my bitch.” He beamed malevolently, making sure to enunciate every word clearly.

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Bitch? Well, you certainly didn’t like that as you let out a guttural growl at that suggestion, your pride as an alpha rising up. “Quiet.” Leo shushed you almost as you were a disobedient child. Grabbing you with almost inhuman strength, you flailed as he hoisted you on his lap with your back facing him. Terror quickly set in as he began sniffing your nape where your scent gland was, his canines lightly grazing it. One bite and it was over. You wouldn’t be an alpha anymore and instead be bound to the very man that slaughtered your people. In a fit of fear, you began frantically struggling as you pleaded with him. “Leo! Please don’t-!” However, it was to no avail as he snorted back with a snarky “No.” He sunk his teeth into your gland, biting down with as much force he could humanly muster. The harsh pain ripping a pained whine from your throat as you scrambled at the air to grip onto anything to ground you. An intense heat began to envelop you, further intensifying your discomfort.

The bite took immediate effect, heat rushing through your veins as you felt your body beginning to change. Agony shot through you as the forced change to your secondary gender was initiated, a relentless wave of pain that refused to ebb. Your once sharp canines that served to give a mating bite shrunk along with your cock, turning into an omega’s tiny cock. Your unused hole began to leak runny slick through your pants, a sign that the bitching had been successful and your first heat as an omega was about to begin. Weakly twitching against Leo, your muscles felt like stone as all your strength was sapped from you. Satisfied with his work, Leo hummed as he licked the bite in satisfaction.

As the pain shifted to an insatiable need to be filled, you unconsciously grinded against the huge tent forming in his pants, seeking reprise from the unfamiliar heat you felt, your slick wetting his crotch. You whimpered, your newly turned body eager to be filled and fucked. Turning you around to face him, Leo tore off your pants impatiently, eager to see the results of his bitching. “Fuck, your dick has really turned into an omega’s useless cock!” He jeered as he thumbed at the slit at the head of your dick, pearly pre-cum forming at the tip. “F-fuck you…” You spat back, struggling to regain your senses in your lust hazed state. He smirked back, his fingers dextrously rubbing your cock in response. “S-stop!” You cried out, the rim of your eyes red. The humiliation of being bitched and getting jerked off was too much. Coupled with the fact you were a virgin, the pleasure immediately began to fill your frayed nerves. With your senses heightened by your heat, you came almost seconds after, the knot in your stomach tightening and breaking as you dirtied your shirt with a loud moan.

Hands moving away from your weeping cock, he spread your rim dripping with slick open. “It’s like a waterfall…” Muttering, he wet his fingers with your slick before slipping in a finger. The calluses on his finger served as delicious stimulation as they rubbed against your sensitive walls, trying to find your prostrate. Biting your lips, you tried to hold your moans in, not letting him have any satisfaction. Your attempts at resistance were once again futile as he quickly found your prostrate and began to abuse it relentlessly, slipping in another finger. Once again, you felt the familiar singsong of ecstasy rush through you as the pressure in your stomach tightened. “Gh! Ngh—no! D-don’t wanna cum again!” You sobbed as he mercilessly grinded away at your prostrate, crying out as cum shot out from your dick for the second time.

His fingers pulled out as he shared a kiss with you, hot tongue twisting and dominating your mouth. Caught up in the kiss, you didn’t notice him freeing his cock which was now circling your hole. The sudden intrusion had you gasping and pulling away as the blunt head of his cock slipped out from your movements. He grunted at you, annoyed as his cock throbbed impatiently. You shook your head at him desperately as your throat was too dry to form words. A sudden gentle expression formed on his face, “Okay, then if you don’t want it, I won’t force it.” He smiled, almost saint-like. You should have felt joy at what he said but only disappointment filled you. Why did you feel disappointed?! The growing emptiness in you made you restless as your instincts cried at you to make your mated alpha put his dick in you deep and knot you.

Conflicted, you stared at him blankly. “Tell me, do you want it or not?” He chuckled carefree, almost as if his cock wasn’t rock hard in front of you. The intense need to be filled overwhelmed your senses, you needed to be bred. Desperation and horniness got the better of you as you as you nodded your head, hole clenching in response. “Use your words.” He scowled in displeasure. Eager to please your alpha, you tossed aside your pride and shame as you uttered a low yes. In a split second, you felt his monstrous cock stretch you open and then white. You had squirted all over him just from penetration. Your mouth gaped as your eyes glazed over, the repeated orgasms leaving you twitching around the fat dick driving into you. “Shit.” He huffed, smug, and gripped your waist as he bounced you up and down his fat dick. “Ah! Ah- ugh!” Whimpers bubbled from your throat as you swore you saw stars from how hard he was thrusting into you, your prostrate kissed again and again. Watching your flesh ripple as his hips snapped against yours, Leo spurred on, your cries exciting him further.

Indescribable satisfaction filled you as he grinded his hips into you, making sure to go deep and bully your sensitive innards, making you pulse around his cock uncontrollably. “You like that, huh.” He growled, voice dropping an octave as he began relentlessly pounding, determined to sate his desire. It didn’t help that he had an incredibly strong stamina, making you orgasm multiple times, your voice too hoarse to even cry out. “Gonna wife you up, put my kids in you.” He groaned, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead as the brutal pace of his cock began to stutter and slow down as the base of his dick began to swell. He was going to knot you. Roughly shoving his swelling knot in your hole, the burn and friction against your insides made you mewl in pleasure.

You attempted to move Leo’s hands away, but when that didn’t work, you tried to crawl off the dick destroying your insides. Tears fell from your eyes, your little cock not being able to keep up with the pleasure continuing to wrack his body. He felt you trying to pull away and grabbed you by the base of your throat, pulling his ass flush against his thighs. Leo continued to obliterate your hole, his other hand reaching down to wrap around the tiny dick. He jerked you in time with his thrusts, licking around the scent gland. 

“Don’t run from it. Take it like a good little wife.”

Finally, the moment came. The mast of his swollen knot locked you both together as he sheathed himself in to the hilt. You slurred incoherently as he began stuffing you full of his cum, a small bulge forming on your stomach. In a rare moment of reprieve, he gently placed his hands against your distending stomach as waves of cum were pumped into you. Trapped in a tight bear hug, your yowls of ecstasy drowned out his moans as you both came together. Barely conscious from the rough fucking you just had, your head lolled to the side on his shoulder.

Breathing in his scent as your hole hugged his cock, you swore you were going to kill him. A small hoarse “fuck you” left your lips before you drifted off to sleep, eliciting an amused laugh from him.

note: well that was it haha, Leo’s a bitch lol 💀. Tried a more descriptive writing style this time, hope u enjoyed the fic :)

Reblogs are appreciated! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

check out part 2 !

see some headcanons about him!

[nesiacha]

In your post on 10 August you correctly pointed out how often the violence under the Ancien Régime gets always overlooked and you mentioned the Beast of Gévaudan, the deliberate repressions by Louis XIV or Louis XVI, the repression of the Flour War. What happened during these events?

Warning: Regarding the case of the Beast of Gévaudan, there are some shocking elements related to the criminal investigation. So, please refrain from reading if you feel uncomfortable with this. Sensitive souls should refrain from reading this part of text. I want to mention that I am not very knowledgeable about the Ancien Régime, so feel free to correct or add to what I say (especially regarding the Flour War).

Dragonnades under the reign of Louis XIV to force Protestants to convert to Catholicism ( The engraving dates from 1686 and is by Engelmann, Les nouveaux missionnaires)

Ah, here we are again, discussing the Ancien Régime. There are many things to say (some of which are positive; we should also fight against the demonization, but I will limit myself to starting with the period under Louis XIV rather than Henri IV).

Louis XIV, what can be said? Well, ironically, if we want to better study the issues that led to the Revolution, it starts with him (in my eyes). I will quickly touch upon his reign and the reasons why he wanted an absolute regime (due to the trauma he experienced as a child during the trials he endured during the Fronde, under the regency of his mother and Cardinal Mazarin). One day, I came across a phrase on a forum that I found revealing about the reigns of Louis XIV, Louis XV, and Louis XVI. It said something like, "Louis XIV creates the debt, Louis XV manages it and passes it on to his successor (Louis XVI), who, due to his character and actions, causes the Revolution to break out." Although reality is more complex, I think this phrase aptly describes the origin of the massive debt of the Kingdom of France.

His wars financially drained the kingdom of France, showing that, in reality, wars of conquest can be more harmful than beneficial due to their expenses, especially if the territories do not bring in revenue (at least when Tsar Peter the Great waged war against the Turks, it was to gain access to the Sea of Azov for long-term commercial purposes). By the end of his reign, the state was financially ruined, all due to excessive conquests and wars that could have been avoided. Let's not even talk about horrific episodes like the Sack of the Palatinate in 1689 and how he alienated foreign powers. Here’s what Voltaire had to say on the subject: "This beautiful country was ravaged under Louis XIV for the second time; but the flames with which Turenne had burned two towns and twenty villages in the Palatinate were mere sparks compared to this final conflagration. Europe was horrified. The officers who carried it out were ashamed to be the instruments of such cruelties" (excerpt from The Age of Louis XIV).

This led to several revolts due to the increasing tax burden, the most notable of which was in Brittany. It is important to note something about Brittany and taxes. In 1491, Duchess Anne of Brittany married Charles VIII. France then annexed the Duchy of Brittany, but in return, Brittany retained a fiscal system specific to the former duchy, and no additional levies could be imposed without the agreement of this former duchy.

Louis XIV violated this fiscal exception and increased taxes as part of his war against Holland. This led to what would be called the Revolt of the Red Bonnets in Brittany, and across France (as there were other zones of insurrection like Grenoble, Bordeaux, Pau, Besançon), it would be known as the Stamp Paper Revolt in 1675, triggered by the ever-growing misery of the population. The revolt in Brittany was the most significant, with castles being attacked and uprisings against their lords. On July 2, the rebels demanded the abolition of seigneurial abuses, among other things, and proclaimed a Peasant Code, which included a series of texts, some of which apparently echoed aspects of the grievance lists of 1789.

The repression in Brittany was brutal. Six thousand men were sent to crush the rebellion. There were hangings, and some were sent to the galleys. The body of one of the leaders, Le Balp, was exhumed to be desecrated. Other leaders were tortured before being executed. The suburb of Saint-Malo was deemed too rebellious.

In October 1675, the city experienced violence, apparently at the hands of Louis XIV’s troops. Residents of certain streets were expelled to the point where the Marquise de Sévigné wrote, "Do you want to know the news from Rennes? An entire large street was driven out and banished, with the threat of death if they were taken in, so that one could see all these miserable people—old men, women who had just given birth, children—wandering in tears as they left the city." On February 5, 1796,

In his absolute control, Louis XIV sought to annihilate any rebellion. Under Louis XIV, there were 40,000 deserters, Protestants, counterfeiters, and salt smugglers condemned to the galleys, which was a horrific ordeal.

For criticizing absolutism, the theologian and tutor of the king’s grandson, Fénelon, fell out of favor. To better eliminate any opposition, a new position of Lieutenant General of Police was created in Paris, tasked with not only surveillance but also reforming justice to extend cases that could be judged directly by the King’s judges. During the inquisitorial process, the investigation was secret (which, as a law student, I admit can have both positive and negative aspects) and confessions were extracted, including through the use of torture (terrifying and horrible).

The Code Noir of 1685 authorized and even justified slavery with the goal of increasing the production of mineral and agricultural wealth.

The Edict of Nantes, which had allowed Protestants to live in peace, was revoked by Louis XIV. This led to the "dragonnades," a method in which "dragons," or royal soldiers, were forcibly quartered in the homes of Protestants considered heretics, using all possible means to force them to convert. I can hardly imagine the brutalities committed in the homes of these victims to obtain so many abjurations from the Protestants so that these soldiers would leave.

When Louis XIV died, he was deeply unpopular. Misery was widespread, and the peasant class could barely survive. In the event of climatic accidents, famine and mortality rates were extremely high, particularly in 1694 and 1709.

It is easy to see that the seeds of the Revolution were already being sown under Louis XIV. In 1694, there was the Red Bonnets uprising, and barely a century later, the Revolution and the overthrow of the monarchy, and the uprising of the slaves. We can clearly see where the first seeds of the Revolution began to germinate.

The fight of Marie-Jeanne Vallet, known as the “Maid of Gévaudan”, against the beast. Sculpture by Philippe Kaeppelin.

Now we come to the case of Louis XV, and one example that struck me the most about the dysfunction of the country is the affair of the Beast of Gévaudan (though there are many others, and more important ones). This remains one of the most mysterious criminal cases that has never been solved. However, this example highlights another dysfunction of the Ancien Régime beyond slavery, famine, religious intolerance, and repression. It is simply the issue of security in the face of the crime that the lower class suffers in certain areas.

France had just come out of the Seven Years’ War (an extremely deadly conflict), relatively defeated by England and financially ruined. The incident took place in the county of Gévaudan (which is in the province of Languedoc). The area included the Margeride, a difficult-to-access region with mountain ranges and marshes. In Gévaudan, life was harsh, predominantly populated by peasants; life was very tough, life expectancy was very short, children started working very early, and the peasant class primarily sought to survive.

But it’s the problem of crime that will be highlighted here (so I won’t go into too much detail about the affair of the Beast of Gévaudan). However, it’s necessary to explain this criminal case to better understand what follows. This case is complex, and the aim is not to explain it fully but rather to show the attitude of King Louis XV’s government, which tends to indicate what could be called willful criminal negligence. Therefore, the mystery of the Beast of Gévaudan is quickly summarized, and if you’re interested in understanding the case from an "investigative" perspective, you won’t find it here (it would take at least two to three pages), especially for suspects and theories explaining this mystery.

It all began in June 1764. A shepherdess living in Langogne was attacked by a beast. She owed her life to the cows that charged to protect their calves. The most striking thing is that the beast completely ignored the cows to focus solely on her. She survived, but it was the beginning of a long series of attacks. The beast was described as a wolf with a black stripe down its back (even today, it’s unclear whether it was a dog or a wolf). This was surprising because the inhabitants were always close to wolves, and no attacks had been recorded.

The beast went on to claim several victims, some of whom were horrifically devoured alive in front of helpless witnesses. Some survivors were scarred for life, and several children died.

Initially, King Louis XV took the matter very seriously: he sent one of his close associates, François Antoine, and enormous resources were employed. However, when the beast was not conspicuously absent, bullets seemed to bounce off it, or it got back up (one of the reasons for speculating that the beast had been trained by a human, as the black stripe could have come from a boar’s hide used as a protective cuirass against pistol bullets). Very questionable means (to put it mildly) will be used such as poisoning the corpses so that the Beast of Gévaudan eats it and poisons itself. But it doesn't work. Then, on September 20, 1765, François Antoine (or one of his aides) killed the beast. Witnesses and survivors of the attacks confirmed it was the Beast of Gévaudan (about twenty of them). However, it had killed on the other side of the river, where it had not been very active. Despite this, Louis XV declared that the affair was over and that the Beast of Gévaudan had been killed. And yet, after a period of calm due to the winter (when herds were less exposed), the attacks resumed with even greater intensity in the spring, with more and more victims. The attacks were concentrated mainly in the Margeride.

This is where we see the indifferent side of the Ancien Régime. For the monarchy, which had been ridiculed by the Beast of Gévaudan, the matter was closed. Officially, the Beast of Gévaudan had been killed, and with censorship in place, there was no mention of other attacks by the beast after 1765. On gravestones, it was now forbidden to say that a victim had been killed by the Beast of Gévaudan. There would be no more assistance, and the inhabitants were left to fend for themselves. One must be cautious, but we can speak of willful criminal negligence: to save face, the monarchy pretended to ignore the deadly attacks and even censored news about the affair. Fortunately, the Marquis d’Apcher continued to organize hunts to kill the beast at his own expense. But his resources were not those of a state and therefore very limited. The attacks officially ended in June 1767. A man named Jean Chastel ended the Beast’s life under strange circumstances (I don’t want to accuse deceased people with little evidence; it’s just that some facts make him seem suspicious, while others exonerate him, especially since in those superstitious times, he was looked down upon for reasons we’d find foolish today. For example, he apparently didn’t attend church much, although when Marie Danty, a 12-year-old girl with whom he was friendly, was devoured alive, he began attending church and had his bullets blessed. He could read and write, which was rare for someone of the lower class, and he was allegedly the son of a healer, whom some called a witch. On the other hand, when Marie Danty died, he swore he would be the one to kill the Beast of Gévaudan, and according to some witnesses, when the beast saw him, it simply sat down, whereas when it was present, it wouldn’t let itself be caught. Moreover, its black stripe had disappeared, although survivors had said it had one. However, I ask that we avoid making accusations against Jean Chastel out of respect for his descendants,while there is a high probability that he is innocent , we cannot make accusations without evidence).

Another frightening aspect of France in this affair is that not all the crimes were committed by the Beast of Gévaudan. It’s clear that at least several murderers committed acts that were blamed on the Beast, especially considering how some victims were killed. In fact, Margeride was notorious for its lack of security, its criminality, and the maréchaussée (mounted police) had only just been established, with many brigands or worse. The last crime attributed to the Beast of Gévaudan was actually committed by a human who killed a woman, Marianne Thomas, in 1777. The woman, in her agony, said it was the Beast. But in reality, it was a man disguised as the Beast, wearing fur, who had committed the crime. So, in addition to famine, it seems that the Ancien Régime either did not want to or failed to ensure that the maréchaussée was effective in protecting the lower class.

Another negative aspect of Louis XV’s regime was the continued religious fanaticism. During the attacks of the Beast of Gévaudan, some believed the beast was the result of divine punishment for the inhabitants’ sins (another theory said that the beast of Gévaudan was suckling a werewolf and that silver bullets were needed to kill it) . There was the infamous case of Calas, where a father was tortured to death because he was Protestant, accused on very doubtful, if not nonexistent, evidence. Then there was the affair of the Chevalier de la Barre, in which a young nobleman was tortured and executed for the crime of blasphemy (desecration of a crucifix) and it seems that it was not sure if it was him who did that, not to mention the sect of the White Penitents in Toulouse, who were a model of intolerance at that time. Additionally, the Church owned at one point 6% of the land in the Kingdom of France and profited from it, while the state coffers did not benefit. Not to mention other legitimate criticisms that could be made against the Church.

Anne Robert Jacques Turgot (French school, Palace of Versailles) (1727-1781)

Finally, here is the Flour War under Louis XVI. Ironically, the minister at the heart of these events was the most competent of Louis XVI’s ministers. Turgot is considered, in a way, a reformer (in fact, part of the nobility hated him for this), but also a liberal. There was much speculation because the monarchy was stockpiling grain. Turgot instead decided to impose the free circulation of grain. However, the poor harvests of 1773 and 1774 led to a significant increase in prices. This further deepened the misery of the peasants, as bread was their staple food. Consequently, riots broke out, with bakeries being looted and grain stocks seized. In response, 25,000 soldiers were deployed, leading to 548 arrests and the execution by hanging of two rioters: a 28-year-old wigmaker and a 16-year-old boy guilty of kicking a bakery door. The execution of these two scapegoats shocked the crowd.

So, my opinion on Turgot is that he was one of Louis XVI’s most competent ministers and the one who, among all his successors, had the people’s best interests at heart. But he was neither a political genius nor an engaged man like the revolutionaries who would take over after the Ancien Régime (at least many of them). I’m going to deliberately provoke by saying that if he was in the most committed political class concerning the Absolute Monarchy, he would likely have been on the far right during the French Revolution (though less conservative than Necker, for sure). But I’m probably being unfair because he died before we could know what he would have done, knowing that he didn’t play a false role as a friend of the people like Necker did, but rather acted more in favor of reforms, unlike the latter.

However, I must point out, in defense of Louis XV and Louis XVI, that absolutism had its limits in the form of the Parliaments, and they had to delegate certain powers to the Parliament. Yet, the Parliament opposed some necessary reforms for the people to ensure that the nobility could maintain its privileges while pretending to be friends of the poor people (we can clearly see where Necker learned this attitude).

P.S: I didn't mention the repression following the Reveillon affair, due to the events of April 26 to April 28, 1789 as it wasn't ask.

Sources: Antoine Resche For the Beast of Gévaudan: YouTuber Lionel Camy, who is very knowledgeable about criminal cases he explains. His video on the Beast of Gévaudan was excellent.But that does not prevent us from seeing historians given that Lionel Camy is more specialized in the analysis and theories of crime. Thierry Aprile

[thepastisalreadywritten]

SAINT OF THE DAY (July 4)

On July 4, the Catholic Church celebrates St. Elizabeth of Portugal, a queen who served the poor and helped her country avoid war during the 13th and 14th centuries.

Elizabeth of Portugal was named after her great-aunt, St. Elizabeth of Hungary (7 July 1207 – 17 November 1231), who was canonized by  Pope Gregory IX on 27 May 1235.

Their lives were similar in some important ways:

Both married at very young ages, sought to live the precepts of the Gospel despite their status as royalty, and finished their lives as members of the Third Order of St. Francis.

The younger Elizabeth was born in 1271, the daughter of King Pedro III of Aragon and his wife Constantia.

Even in her youth, Elizabeth showed a notable devotion to God through fasting, regular prayer, and a sense of life's seriousness.

While still very young, she was married to King Diniz of Portugal, a marriage that would put her faith and patience to the test.

King Diniz was faithfully devoted to his country, known as the “Worker King” because of his diligence.

Unfortunately, he generally failed to live out the same faithfulness toward his wife, although he is said to have repented of his years of infidelity before his death.

Diniz and Elizabeth had two children, but the king fathered an additional seven children with other women.

Many members of the king's court likewise embraced or accepted various forms of immorality, and it would have been easy for the young queen to fall into these vices herself.

But Elizabeth remained intent on doing God's will with a humble and charitable attitude.

Rather than using her status as queen to pursue her own satisfaction, she sought to advance Christ's reign on earth.

Like her namesake and great-aunt Elizabeth of Hungary, Elizabeth of Portugal was a devoted patroness and personal friend of the poor and sick.

She compelled the women who served her at court to care for them as well.

The queen's bishop testified that she had a custom of secretly inviting in lepers, whom she would bathe and clothe, even though the law of the land barred them from approaching the castle.

Elizabeth's commitment to the Gospel also became evident when she intervened to prevent civil war in the kingdom on two occasions.

Alfonso, the only son of Diniz and Elizabeth, resented the king's indulgent treatment of one of his illegitimate sons, to the point that the father and son gathered together rival armies that were on the brink of open war in 1323.

On this occasion, St. Elizabeth placed herself between the two opposing armies, insisting that Diniz and Alfonso come to terms and make peace with one another.

In 1336, the last year of her life, she intervened in a similar manner to prevent her son from waging war against the King of Castile for his poor treatment of Alfonso's own daughter.

Following King Diniz's death in 1325, Elizabeth had become a Franciscan of the Third Order and had gone to live in a convent that she had established some years before.

The testimony of miracles accomplished through her intercession after her death on 4 July 1336 contributed to her beatification in 1516 and canonization by Pope Urban VIII on 24 June 1625.

[wutheringmights]

If a book has a pretty cover, it's not allowed to be bad. Yet, that's exactly what I got from "Daughter of the Moon Goddess" by Sue Lynn Tan. It's a 1/5 for me, folks.

This was a really infuriating book to read because I didn't need it to be good. I just wanted it to be fun, and yet no element of it worked for me.

The plot was episodic at best and unfocused at worst. Plot points that could have been books within their own right were introduced and solved within the span of a couple of chapters. Think everything from adapting to court life to going on magical quests to seek out legendary dragons.

Not only that, but many plot points were solved by the biggest contrivances in the world. For example, our main character was able to spike another's drink with the petals of a flower she found in their garden WHILE on the way to trick them. This was premeditated. She did not know the flowers were there, but there would have been no way her plan could have happened without them.

Don't even get me started on how the villain's entire scheme only worked out for them by pure chance. They were about to give up when it turns out by sheer coincidence that the main character was going to get her hands on the magical plot device they had been seeking for hundreds of years.

Speaking of which, the characters were flat beyond belief. I don't mind characters being simplistic or even archetypes, but they have to at least be entertaining. None of them were. The love rivals were infuriating in how similar they were. Our main character could not stop narrating about how much she hates lying and how she was deceiving everyone, while at the same time never once thinking anything through.

How bad is she at thinking things through? Imagine it's 2010 and President Barack Obama killed your mom. You have sworn revenge. Then you meet Sasha Obama at Martha's Vineyard, and she invites you to her home: the White House. So you go to the White House, only to remember that's where Obama lives when you see him sitting in the Oval Office.

Not only is our main character dumb enough to do that, but she did do that. All of that actually happened in the story, sans two-term president Barack Obama.

The rest of the characters? Not worth mentioning. They were nothing.

The genre of the story was also very confused. There were times that the world seemed to operate on fairy tale logic and others were it was trying to be realistic. For example, the main character was immediately good at archery because her dad is a legendary archer. Alright, sure. I can get behind that. But then the villain's plot involved tricking the enemy kingdom into violating a treaty of nonaggression so that they could justifiably wage a war against them without their allies lending aid. Huh? That's their scheme? To avoid an international incident?

I'm not even getting into how the rushed plot points pushes the characters from a fairy tale to a court drama to a war story to an adventure quest without succeeding at any of them.

I guess I could call this novel a romance, but none of the romances work either because the author merely assumes you want these characters to end up together and, therefore, does not even attempt to show the characters falling in love. In general, so much character development is hidden behind strange time jumps of anywhere from a few weeks to whole years passing.

Most of all, the way this story was written drove me nuts. Yes, there is some pretty, flowery language that more or less passes as feeling old and magical. But no amount of metaphors can cover up that the story just TELLS the readers what every character is feeling. At no point does the prose SHOW.

(I have some extended thoughts about how this novel's prose made me contemplate my own craft, but it's late and I want to go to bed soon. I'll come back tomorrow with some musings, so look forward to that).

So, yeah. This is a no from me. I really tried to like it, but I mainly felt like I was wasting my time. I'll probably dump this book the next time I de-clutter my bookshelf. I'm just glad that I didn't buy the sequel when I saw it on sale.

[twilightknight17]

Last night on P5T, the sky is a clockwork hell, but it’s okay, because we’re doing the traditional P5 information cutscene! And as usual… we still don’t manage to clear up everything!

(Seriously. I will never stop making fun of the fact that the post-Plan cutscene is a 2 hour infodump and STILL doesn’t answer everything. XD)

Anyway, it’s nice to have everyone together in the Velvet Room.

Lavenza fits in great with the rest of the Thieves. Now if only we could convince her to come fight with us, we’d have no problems getting through anything else in our way. ;)

But she can at least shed some light on what Salmael is, because as usual, it’s a manifestation of a human instinct gone berserk.

Congrats, kids, on reaching a point where we can discuss Yaldabaoth by name! Scramble's timeline never managed that. XD

According to Lavenza, unlike the God of Control, which came from people’s desires to be idle and leave all the decisions up to someone else, Salmael is the personification of humanity’s self-preservation instinct.

Which makes sense, in terms of Persona final bosses. It makes as much sense as the personification of the desire for bonds, or the personification of the desire for solitude, so we’re all good so far. But, hm. They keep talking about what makes it different from the God of Control, but…

…...who does THAT sound like, Atlus? Hm? Is this a god damn sequel or not? It has to be Royal’s universe. Joker’s got his grappling hook, Morgana and the others know Lavenza already, but you are just determined not to mention Maruki at all even though this is definitely his MO. This thing isn’t like Yaldabaoth, but it is like Maruki! So why are you willing to mention one god by name, but avoid the other entirely? You’re exhausting, Atlus. Honestly. X’’’D

GEE, MORGANA, I WONDER WHAT PERSONAL EXPERIENCES WOULD INFORM THAT OPINION?

Anyway, Lavenza explains that the Kingdoms are a structure that, the way she describes it, sounds like a halfway point between a Dungeon/Palace and something like Tartarus. A place constructed by a cognitive god, but from the cognition of a single person. Under normal circumstances, Salmael would have been able to infiltrate Toshiro’s mind and take over. But because his latent potential was already stirring, it couldn’t overpower him that easily, so it used his cognition to create and populate this distortion in an effort to break his will.

And Toshiro’s spark of rebellion was inspired by the broadcast hijack. <3

So Salmael built the Kingdoms, and created the Rulers as fragments of itself, dressed up in the image of Toshiro’s memories to mentally wear him down.

I… think this implies that Shadow Toshiro was another one of Salmael’s creations? Which reads as true to me. I don’t think Toshiro ever blamed Eri for what happened. I think he blamed himself. So his shadow wouldn’t want to kill Eri. But a god focused on stamping out any hint of rebellion would.

It also, according to Lavenza, took shadows from the Sea of Souls and turned them into its Legionnaires, which is why when we destroy them, they drop gears with the essences of the original demons/personas that we can then use for fusion. Which makes sense!

And, after realizing that it wasn’t managing to wear Toshiro down just by waging war in his mind, it pulled his real self into the metaverse to break him directly.

Now, Erina.

Lavenza says that she is the cognitive embodiment of Toshiro’s feelings of hope and resistance, taking on the form of the person who inspired him. And he subconsciously entrusted his unawakened powers of persona to her to help her fight back against Salmael, which is why she can do magic like the Thieves.

Lavenza says that in this state, she was essentially a cognitive being with an inner persona. She was protecting Toshiro’s subconscious and will of rebellion where he couldn’t.

All of that is… fine. It’s fine. It’s a little fast and loose, but it’s the sort of thing that’s okay if you gloss over some of the details. After all, we know a shadow that gained enough of an ego to develop a persona, and we know cognitions that grew so powerful that they overwhelmed a Palace in the ruler’s place, and we know cognitive gods that lived as humans, amnesiac or not. So a cognition trusted with the power of its creator’s persona is something I can grasp.

The fact that she, herself, is considered his persona and how they implement it afterwards is what bothers me.

You can still send both of them into battle. Erina operates completely independently from Toshiro, still has her own magic and uses her own skills, and just… disappears briefly when Toshiro needs her to be Ernesto. That’s really not how I would have done it.

One option would be to say that he’s taken his power back from her now that he’s strong enough to stand on his own. He can fight with Ernesto, and she can fight with just her guns and melee (or say that some of the power still lingers with her so she can still do magic, idk). OR, if they’re gonna insist that she is Ernesto and not just a cognition wielding Ernesto’s power, then you can’t have both out there at the same time. It makes so much less sense to have her running around as normal and just being a persona when convenient. If you want her still running around as a person during cutscenes, fine, I can accept that, but if she’s gonna be his persona then she needs to be his persona during battle.

I don’t know, it all just feels so much messier than it needs to be. It feels like it’s literally just that they wanted to keep Erina around as her own character after the reveal, and they did it in the most convoluted way possible.

But, anyway, Lavenza has crashed the train into the final area and I’m just now realizing how very close they’re skirting to another entry on the stolen things list. Not quite, though, thankfully, or I’d be getting even more unhinged. What’s the next step up in unhinged-ness from “lorekeeper”?

Loving Erina’s enthusiasm despite the clockwork hellscape, though. XDDDD

Salmael is summoning metal versions of bosses past to stop us (hm. metal versions. Hmmmm), and so far I’ve beaten Marie. The kids have come to the realization that Salmael is targeting Toshiro specifically because he’s the most likely to be the next prime minister, and therefore would have the most influence on the people. So like Yaldabaoth using Shido, really.

Toshiro blames himself for the real-world Marie being as bad as she was because he didn’t stand up to her, and we get a lovely reminder that Akira can be a horrible little goblin if you let him. :3

And Lavenza offers us a set of challenges to unlock everyone’s final skills, because she can’t fight us herself, as much as she wants to.

Which I can’t really complain about, because as much as I love my darling attendant here, she is a little cheater. Gimmick boss fight without explaining what the gimmick is, or that it even exists in the first place? Mean, Lavenza. There’s a reason I never beat her bonus boss fight in Royal. It’s the only one I never beat.

Anyway, final notes. I love Erina and Yusuke’s little drawings to “help” illustrate what’s being talked about. Absolutely delightful.

Overall, a pretty solid explanation of what’s been going on, but getting it all at once is still a little much, and as usual, there’s still things it didn’t answer. How did it pull Toshiro into the metaverse? How did it pull the Thieves into the metaverse? Toshiro had already been imprisoned by Cognitive Marie for a while when they got there, so what separate thing dragged in the Thieves (and Lavenza)? It would be weird for Salmael to bring them in and risk them freeing Toshiro. Just take care of them after you break him. You’re a god; why do you need to rush?

And I love the idea of Toshiro subconsciously fighting back against Salmael’s attempts to get in his head. Honestly, if it had been a cognitive space that Toshiro constructed, instead of one made by Salmael to break him, I’d say it lines up very well with my version of a cognitive Stronghold. Which, I’m not even gonna put that on the stolen stuff list, because I like being validated in my overall worldbuilding choices. XDDDD

Metal Yoshiki is probably next, but I think I’m gonna see what Lavenza’s challenges are, first. She better not be cheating again. :’’’D

[mariacallous]

Over the course of an era of American dominance, Washington has built an unprecedented ability to inflict pain on what it deems to be rogue actors in the international system. The U.S. toolkit of sanctions and second- and third-order measures can cut off most countries—or companies—from global commerce and trade. This unparalleled strength, in tandem with the efforts of a network of allies, can have profound effects on geopolitics and the behavior of states. But conversely, if the United States overuses its ability to sanction other countries, then the effectiveness of those measures can erode; some large economies can seek to create alternatives to Western financial systems and to the U.S. dollar itself.

Over the last year, the United States has launched dynamic and escalating sanctions to hurt Russian President Vladimir Putin and his allies. The moves haven’t prevented Putin from waging war in Ukraine, but they have severely hurt the Russian economy. Even so, according to a forecast from the International Monetary Fund (IMF), Russia’s economy is set to expand by 0.3 percent in 2023, even as a country like the United Kingdom sees its GDP shrink. Does this mean sanctions haven’t worked?

As part of FP Live, the magazine’s forum for live journalism, I spoke with two experts on sanctions: Agathe Demarais, global forecasting director at the Economist Intelligence Unit and author of Backfire: How Sanctions Reshape the World Against U.S. Interests; and Nicholas Mulder, an assistant professor of history at Cornell University and author of The Economic Weapon: The Rise of Sanctions as a Tool of Modern War. FP subscribers can watch the complete interview on the video box at the top of this page. What follows is a condensed and edited transcript.

Foreign Policy: Nick, the IMF forecasts that Russia will grow by 0.3 percent this year. Sanctions were meant to have crippled the Russian economy. What happened?

Nicholas Mulder: There are a number of things that happened, but one place to start would be Russia’s policy response. Countries under sanctions are not passive. The West has learned to fight financial crises rather well, and other countries have taken on that toolbox and managed to avoid a big financial crisis.

On top of that, in a year of general economic turmoil recovering from the pandemic, Russia’s position as a big commodity exporter gave it a certain amount of leverage over other countries. It’s been able to readjust. It’s had more trade than we expected, and it’s found backchannels for that trade. Those things together account for much of why the sanctions have worked less efficiently than expected.

FP: Agathe, in December 2022, you argued in FP that sanctions on Russia were indeed working. Do you still think that’s true?

Agathe Demarais: Absolutely. Sanctions on Russia are working, but there has been a lot of confusion about the effectiveness of sanctions against Russia because the West’s objectives haven’t been stated very clearly.

The sanctions were never about Russia’s economic collapse. Russia is the ninth-largest economy in the world. I don’t think it was about regime change. We know from history that this never works. I also don’t think that Western countries thought that sanctions would be a magic tool that would change Putin’s thinking from one day to another.

The point of sanctions was twofold. The first was to send a diplomatic message of solidarity and unity with Ukraine and also a message of trans-Atlantic collaboration to the Kremlin. And from that perspective, as I wrote in Foreign Policy, mission accomplished. The second objective, which I think will be a slow, gradual, cumulative objective, is about making it more difficult for Russia to wage war in Ukraine economically, financially, and technologically.

Just to add to your point about Russia recording growth this year, the IMF forecast is an outlier. It is much more positive than other forecasts. It is worth keeping in mind that this comes after a recession last year in 2022, and even if there is stagnation this year, Russia’s GDP will not go back to its prewar level before at least 2027.

FP: Nick, sanctions aren’t stopping Putin from attacking Ukraine. Were they designed primarily for a longer-term impact?

NM: It’s clear that this is becoming a war of attrition, going into its second year, and the sanctions effort will be a long-term campaign of degradation. If the objective is to make things more difficult for Russia, then obviously the sanctions have worked. But I think it’s fair to ask a bit more of them. There were lots of claims made about how this would present insurmountable obstacles within a few months, and in that sense, now we’ve seen adaptation on both sides. That muddied the waters a little bit.

We can provide a more nuanced picture by asking not whether sanctions work or not but what are they doing and what are they not doing. Both Agathe and I agree they are degrading the Russian economy and they are forcing difficult adjustments for the Kremlin and also some adjustments for us, such as the G-7 price cap [on crude oil]. What are they not doing? Indeed, forcing Putin to break off the invasion or cause insurmountable problems that make him stop bombarding Ukrainian cities. I think that’s a better way of disentangling what is and isn’t working.

FP: Let’s move to China. I want to focus on last year’s unprecedented sanctions, where Washington tried to restrict Beijing’s ability to access advanced semiconductors. Agathe, you’re the author of a book called Backfire, so I have to ask: Are these sanctions going to backfire?

AD: It’s too early to say. I don’t think that we know the answer, but I think it is worth asking what the consequences of a decoupling of the U.S. and Chinese economies will be. Will American companies and possibly European companies lose access to the Chinese market? This goes back to Nick’s point about the Russian economy. We shouldn’t expect China to sit idly by and say, “OK, you want to decouple or cut our access to semiconductors: No problem.” There will be policy responses. We do not know what they will be, but we can bet that Western companies could lose access to a Chinese market, which would entail a loss in revenue and possibly less expenses for research and development in the tech sector in Western countries. China would probably double down on efforts to get access to advanced semiconductor technology. Since we know that semiconductors are used in both the civilian and military sector, what would it mean if China got hold of the best semiconductors in the world, especially in light of the Taiwan question? We don’t have the answers yet, but it is important to assume that China is going to respond and think about what that means in a fragmented geopolitical landscape.

FP: Nick, are China and Russia too big to target in this way? And on China specifically, surely developing economies don’t want to be caught in a fight between America and China. So how do you think through sanctions on large-sized economies?

NM: One of the key questions with China is whether its trade partners in the rest of the world could join in sanctions that the West would impose on China or whether they would try and carve out a nonaligned or neutral position like some of them have done vis-à-vis Russia. Chinese trade with many of these countries in Latin America, Africa, and the rest of Asia is many times bigger than Russian trade, so it stands to reason that they would probably try and preserve some of their autonomy.

There are all sorts of levers that the West can use to try and inflict damage on China, particularly its reliance on the U.S. dollar, in its financial system. It’s very heavily dollar-reliant. Commercially speaking, China is probably more protected than it is financially. But there again, a lot will hinge on the policy response.

One big question I have about this embargo and the restrictions on advanced microchips is whether the gain in the short run of this decoupling will outweigh the long-run loss of deterrence. Chinese dependance on U.S. technology will probably be reduced, and will that have been worth it? I think this decision was made in the fall when it seemed like China was stuck in a zero-COVID lockdown that it couldn’t escape from. Very quickly after that, we actually saw that they were able to respond much more quickly, dropping those measures painfully, but—at the same time—then engaging in a charm offensive.

FP: Agathe, since Nick brought it up, will an overuse of sanctions lead to countries looking for alternatives to the dollar?

AD: There are three main ways for countries to shield themselves from sanctions, to vaccinate their economies. The first is de-dollarization. It’s a very clear trend. The U.S. dollar is still used for about 40 percent of global trade. The other side of the coin is that the majority of global trade is conducted not in U.S. dollars. Since 2020, Russia and China conduct most of their bilateral trade in Russian rubles and in Chinese renminbi. And that’s obviously not a random thing. It’s a clear strategy. There’s been a lot of discussion about the freeze of the foreign exchange reserves of Russia’s central bank, which had about the equivalent of $640 billion in reserves. But only half of this was frozen because the other half was denominated in foreign currencies or in gold.

The second tool for shielding their economies from sanctions is alternatives to SWIFT [the Society for Worldwide Interbank Financial Telecommunications]. SWIFT is the global rolodex of banks connecting all banks to each other, and China has an alternative called CIPS [Cross-Border Interbank Payment System]. If China were to be cut up from SWIFT from one day to another, it would have a plan B. There is also an offensive capability from the Chinese perspective because one day, likely by 2040, China will become the world’s largest economy, and it could say, “To do business with us, you need to use our financial system.” It could cut off entire countries from the Chinese market.

Finally, the third tool is about central bank digital currencies. China leads the way here. Three hundred million Chinese already use such a currency that is completely immune to U.S. sanctions and obviously gives the Chinese leadership some surveillance capability.

FP: Nick, we’ve focused so far on sanctions measures on large economies. I’m curious how all of these tools are different when you’re looking at a smaller economy. Think of Myanmar back when there were sanctions on Myanmar, or North Korea today, or even a mid-sized economy such as Iran. Are those more effective than sanctions on a big-sized economy?

NM: They can definitely do a lot of damage. One issue that doesn’t exist with these smaller economies is creating a very large international sanctions coalition because it is simply much easier to get a large part of the international community to agree on putting sanctions on a small economy like North Korea or Venezuela. The spillover effects for the rest of the world are not that significant, and as a result, that part of the equation is easier.

It doesn’t necessarily mean in the long run, politically speaking, we get the kind of policy changes that we want to see, like the end of nuclear proliferation or improvements in the human rights situation.

There are also other resources. Not all of them are economic. A lot of these regimes also manage to use ideology and their own historical experiences as a rallying point for popular resistance.

The other thing that you could point to is the sanctions evasion technology. It might be small on a financial and military scale, but it’s clear now that a growing number of countries under sanctions are exchanging and sharing sanctions evasion techniques. No one would have predicted a year ago that most Russian oil exports would be transported by a ghost fleet similar to that of Venezuela and Iran—and yet, that’s happened very quickly. So there are still links that these economies have to larger trading partners.

FP: Agathe, I’m curious about the role of the global south in this as the world becomes more multipolar. How does this change the way in which Washington thinks through sanctions?

AD: This is the big question. I think that there is a lot of resentment in the global south against former colonial powers, mainly European countries, such as France and the United Kingdom. This narrative against former colonial powers now has another element, and it is resentment against sanctions. What that shows is that Russian disinformation campaigns are working in full steam. For instance, Russian propaganda is making the claim that sanctions are fueling food insecurity in developing countries. This is technically not true. There are no sanctions preventing Russia and Ukraine to export grains. But this narrative is gaining traction. And I think what this shows is that there is a lack of knowledge about what sanctions are, what they really do, how they really work.

I would expect in the coming years and decades that the battle to win hearts and minds in a multipolar, fragmented world will be about winning these hearts and minds in the global south because we have two blocks already being formed. We have a Western block; that is very clear. We have another block including China and Russia and other so-called rogue countries. But where will the global south be? About two-thirds of the global population live in countries that are either neutral or Russia-leaning when it comes to Ukraine. There will be a lot of work for the United States and other Western countries to regain hearts and minds in the global south.

FP: Nick, if sanctions produce all these second-order problems, then what can a country or a consortium of countries do when another country flouts international law and goes rogue? In other words, is there anything else in the toolbox?

NM: I would say that there is a whole spectrum of means that a country like the United States can employ, but we have to take a step back and think about what the full range of tools in our toolbox actually is—all the way from diplomacy to threats of military action. Of course, if you can solve anything without military action, it’s always much better. But the ideal sanctions—and when they do really work—are sanctions that are powerful enough to not be merely symbolic but not so powerful as to needlessly antagonize and force a kind of fortress and entrenchment response in the targets. And that means that the sanctions must go hand in hand with some set of demands that could reasonably be acceded to. And that seems to me to be the best way of making sanctions work.

There are also positive means, and I think right now, for example, that’s helping Ukraine. We do much more to help Ukraine just by focusing on the economic restructuring of Ukraine in the long run because it has lost a third of its GDP. It’s lost a third of its economy. So thinking about actually how we can help our allies is sometimes even more important than how we can restrain the aggressors also.

The final thing I would say is that it demands a balance between carrying a big stick and continuing to show proof of engagement with China. From a deterrence point of view, if you think about what withholds China from invading Taiwan, I’m not sure that decoupling is actually the right way to go when it comes to preventing a China-Taiwan conflict. It may, in fact, be best to militarily prepare and militarily counterbalance China while continuing maximal economic engagement to keep China as dependent on the West as possible. So, policymakers need to be thinking about the full range of options—and not only about technical sanctions enforcement.

[elen-000]

Avatar: The Legend of Aang

Avatar: The Legend of Aang (known as Avatar: The Last Airbender in the U.S. and other regions) is an acclaimed American animated series that originally aired on Nickelodeon. Set in a fantastical world rich with martial arts and elemental magic influenced by Asian cultures, the series chronicles the adventures of Aang, the latest in the line of Avatars, and his friends as they strive to save their world from the oppressive Fire Nation. The show is structured in a unique format where each episode is treated as a "chapter" and each season as a "book."

Setting the Scene

In Avatar: The Legend of Aang, the world is a vibrant blend of humans, mythical creatures, and spirits. This world is divided into four distinct nations: the Water Tribe, the Earth Kingdom, the Air Nomads, and the Fire Nation. Each nation is home to individuals known as Benders, who possess the power to control the elements specific to their nation. This art of bending combines both martial arts and elemental manipulation.

The Avatar is a unique individual capable of mastering all four elements. When an Avatar dies, they are reincarnated into the next nation in the Avatar cycle, corresponding to the seasons: winter for water, spring for earth, summer for fire, and autumn for air. Legends state that the Avatar must learn to bend each element in the traditional order, starting with their native element, though this sequence can sometimes be bypassed if circumstances demand. Mastering elements opposite to one's native one poses a significant challenge due to contrasting martial arts styles and philosophies.

Plot Overview

A hundred years before the series begins, Aang, a 12-year-old airbender from the Southern Air Temple, discovers he is the Avatar. Typically, an Avatar is made aware of their role around age 16, but due to impending conflict among the nations, the monks feared that an Avatar would soon be needed to restore balance and peace. This revelation causes Aang immense stress, leading him to flee. During his escape, a fierce storm causes Aang and his flying bison, Appa, to be trapped in an iceberg.

In the episode "The Boy in the Iceberg," siblings Katara and Sokka from the Southern Water Tribe uncover Aang's iceberg prison and free him. Through their story, Aang learns that while he was missing, the Fire Nation had waged a devastating war against the other nations, annihilating the Air Nomads and their temples to prevent the Avatar's return. Now, as the last airbender, Aang must learn to master all four elements to defeat the Fire Lord and restore peace. Joined by Katara, Sokka, and their animal companions Momo and Appa, Aang sets out to find element masters and avoid capture by the Fire Nation.

Cultural Influences

Avatar draws deeply from various Asian arts and mythologies to build its world. The series integrates philosophies, languages, religions, martial arts, clothing, and cultures from countries like China, Japan, Mongolia, Korea, India, and Tibet. The Water Tribe, for example, is inspired by Inuit culture. The series incorporates elements from Chinese art and history, Japanese anime, Hinduism, Taoism, Buddhism, and Yoga. To ensure authenticity, cultural consultant Edwin Zane was brought on board to review the scripts.

Understanding "Avatar"

The term "Avatar" comes from the Sanskrit word "Avatāra," meaning "descent." In Hindu mythology, gods descend into the world in the form of Avatars to restore balance after times of great evil. The Chinese characters shown with "Avatar" in the opening credits translate to "The Divine Messenger Who Descends into the Mortal World."

As a child, Aang proved he was the Avatar by selecting four specific toys from among thousands, identical to those chosen by past Avatars. This test mirrors practices used to identify the reincarnation of Tulku Lamas in Tibetan Buddhism. According to Alexandra David-Néel's Magic and Mystery in Tibet, children are tested by selecting objects from a collection to reveal their previous life memories. The official Avatar website notes that the new Avatar should exhibit signs of continuity with the previous one, such as being born shortly after their death.

[anarcheamor]

Oh no... The industrialization talk I was avoiding is here...

So my guess would be that, yes, we'll see some implications because I don't think it's a coincidence that we're seeing an industrialized form of forgemastery happening at the same time as a revolutionary conflict in a world where might creatures are presumed extinct. This parallels how the industrial revolution helped to bring an end to chattel slavery by providing an alternative means to labor during a time period where slave labor was becoming increasingly unsustainable and how this new alternative to labor had implications for how war weapons were going to be developed.

Hector and Isaac are symbols for an older ritualistic style of weaponsmithing. Metal workers used to be seen as having adjacency to the supernatural, a belief that is echoed in myths of smith gods and developments in alchemy. This has an impact on how war was viewed as a sacred act. When kingdoms engaged in warfare, the powers at hand were supposed to have approached it with a notion of respect, honor, dignity, and virtue. Gods were involved after all. So our two favorite old forgers could be seen as straying from the path of their craft much like how Dracula's war was far removed from how war was typically raised. Think of how Godbrand and later Striga made a point to talk about how the wars they were a part of lacked the glory, fun, honor, the sacredness, that they were accustomed to. Sure, most of their battles included butchering tons of humans en masse but they at least were fighting against other warriors for the most part. In contrast, Striga had to pull out her best armor to fight against who? Trained warriors who knew well how to fight vampires during their weakest moment? No! A bunch of scared farmers who didn't have any plan other than to just jump the vamps and hope for the best! How is this war? What are weapons now when what you're using them for is just... useless slaughter for the sake of nothing?

Flip things over to Trevor though. His weapons are WEA-PONS. Each one crafted with specificity, tailored to help him fight different degrees of monsters as efficiently as he could. As he grows as a character, gains new strength and self-assuredness, he attains a new weapon stronger than the last to the point that the last weapon he acquired enabled him to kill death itself! Why? His war, his family's war, was a truly sacred one. Founded on their belief that good should triumph over evil, that there wasn't an evil so strong to be unbeatable, and the human spirit is enough to overcome all hardship, the Belmonts were a family army waging a war in the name of human will and endurance against things that tell us that we can't rise above our station. What are night creatures in the command of half-hearted humans and vampires in comparison to such weaponry held by truly-driven people?

Now to move on, industrialization basically cheapened the process of crafting. Like fast food cheapened the process of food making, fast fashion cheapened the process of clothes making, industrialization also removes the "craft-ness" of weapons making. It enabled the creation of the largest wars known to man and in none of those wars was there the sacredness of old battle and there still isn't in any of them. There are no gods riding with their warriors into battle and, so, there isn't any god behind the weapons that were forged for them. They aren't blessed by the words of a smith who truly believed in his process and the meaning behind it.

Instead now weapons are just... things that can kill and so were the night creatures under the Abbot's command. He cared little about the process to make them (again, didn't notice his instruction manual was gone) and it led to him no longer having control over them or how they're made. It's bad enough that he was making them not for a war like Hector and Isaac's creatures but for a sudden invasion of a territory weakened by civil upheaval under the hands of a Carmilla clon- *ahem**cough* I mean a ~goddess~ who he didn't believe in at the slightest. Compare this to how now the existence of nuclear weapons has the world in enough of a chokehold that if two certain countries get into a little tiff with each other that could be the end of humanity as we know it and how the introduction of artificial intelligence into warfare could also pose a high threat to our existence.

A lot of this was probably me reaching but I think there's enough thematic shenaniganry in the two shows to guess that we'll be seeing how this new style of forgemastery will affect the series. To what degree and in what way can't really be known but that forging machine is tied to both Edouard's and Abbot's characters so I doubt they'll just leave it to be a mere plot device.

One more thing before I finish. I almost forgot to mention how you can see Alucard, Annette, Maria, and Sypha as having abilities and weapons that are stable and consistent because their motivations are stable and consistent no matter their emotional state unlike the Belmont boys who need some motivational help (and if I had a nickel for every time a Belmont guy had self-confidence issues, I would have three nickels cuz how come all three of the Belmont men we've seen have suffered from the same set of problems!?). It also says something that they all use magic in some way and can maintain their use of it while Richter lost his magic and had to regain it. That's not getting into how Vodou plays into that...

The way Castlevania nocturne also show how talented Isaac and hector were

You have this priest who spit on his values to summon a machine from hell to forge hell spawn but can’t do more than two at the time every 4 episodes while hector and Isaac were making them pop up like ads on illegal streaming websites !

[lucy-ashton]

A Sweetbriar's original work…

Tasaiteikoku, or the path to Shambhala.

Long ago lived two priestly clans considered the physical essences of the Lunar and Solar stars. Residing among the Heavens to better serve the Jade Emperor reigning over the Celestial Realm, the Ametsukuto clan, symbolised by a three-legged crow, represented the Sun Goddess who once scorched the world with her nine incarnations. Its twin phratry, the Ōtsutsuki clan, symbolised by a white rabbit, lived on the Moon where they represented its God and brewed all year round the famous Elixir of Life from the sap of the Divine Tree. Revered by both mortals and immortals alike, they were said to perform grand rituals in order to preserve the eternal Saṃsāra.

Over time, however, their power weaken drastically as humanity began to self-destruct through numerous wars and conflicts. Fearing to disappear, the two clans decided to mate into a single entity which gave rise to the appearance of a red eclipse in the sky, plunging the world into darkness while mankind fell into a hypnotic sleep that brought universal peace. Thus devoured by nature having finally regained its rights, they morphed into yin and yang monsters named Zetsu which drained away their original personalities and individuality. Mourning the loss of his people, the Emperor Lord Huangdi who ruled Tasaitenkoku and who had been spared due to his immortality, begged the Jade Emperor to intervene.

The latter, taking advantage of the birth of twin siblings possessing both the power of the sun and the moon after the union of the two clans, decreed that they should once again separate and be sent to the terrestrial kingdom where humanity would no longer dare to challenge their existence. Hagoromo, the older brother, therefore took over the leadership of what remained of the Ametsukuto and set up a shrine in the east while Kaguya, the younger sister, became the leader of the remaining Ōtsutsuki members and established her shrine in the west, thereby creating the cycle of day and night in the sky. As such, and so that the eight coloured provinces of the Empire which formerly were enemies continue to maintain their fragile alliance, the brother and the sister symbolically wedded at each eclipse to remind everyone of the previous terror that had been unleashed upon the coupling of the two clans. Soon, Kaguya and Hagoromo fathered their own descendants until the advent of two significant heir brothers within the Ōtsutsuki.

Not respecting each other more than they loved each other, Vitra and Indra quarrelled over the place of successor and constantly fought with the aim of determining which of the two was the most powerful. Growing tired of their petty disputes, Hagoromo Ametsukuto ended up imploring the Jade Emperor to let him return to the Heavens with his people. The latter granted him this favour on the condition that a small part of his clan abandon their immortality and remain on Earth. Generations later, this lineal united with a secondary branch of the Imperial family and took the name Tsukino, retaining control of the Sun Shrine but severing all contact with their twin phratry. Forced to re-establish good understanding to avoid the provinces sinking into chaos again, Kaguya thus banished the two brothers after condemning them to a mortal form and returned to the Lunar star with her kindred.

Alas, due to the influence of their powers, the endless confrontation of the siblings corrupted the mind of mankind who started to take sides for one or the other. Four of the eight coloured provinces thus supported one party and four others supported the second party. Rivals to the end of time, the brothers waged war against each other for so long that in the years following, Indra's lineage, the benevolent saviours who had helped people in between battles, received the name of Hyūga whilst Vitra's lineage, the greater evil who had solely destroyed in its bloodlust, was known as the Toneri.

In an ultimate battle that rendered him bedridden, Indra slew his older brother and with his death finally brought peace and prosperity to humanity. As a result, the Toneri, still refusing to acknowledge their defeat, were forced to retreat to a distant land, and the Hyūga, under the blessing of the Emperor Lord Huangdi, watched over the Moon Shrine again as its dignified representative. Aeons later, this legendary story became a source of teaching for Tasaitenkoku which decided to expand all its provinces equally and built capitals dedicated to helping those who had previously sinned find their way back to Enlightenment. The Brown Province erected the Capital of the Earth, the White Province that of the Wind, the Red the Capital of Fire, the Blue Province the Capital of Water; as for the Black Province it erected the Capital of Iron, the Violet that of Sound, the Yellow Province the Capital of Lightning, and finally the Green erected that of the Forest. Praised for their wisdom, each then received from the Celestial Realm a protector in the person of an immortal called Xian. Together, the eight Xian moved the Empire into a new dimension hidden by the snow-capped mountains of Tibet, before appointing it as Shambhala.

To this day, it is said that the two clans and their many bloodlines exist still, one forever outcasted, one studying the tantra towards the inner path they yet haven't found, and another worshipping religiously their star with the hope of returning there one day…

So, this thing kinda popped up in my mind yesterday morning and I spent the whole afternoon writing it. God knows I have a hundred other WIPs to take care of, but I'm also a slave to my inspiration soooo 😂. I'm a mythologies aficionado/scholar and this small fairy tale is a mix of different ones, mainly Asian: Chinese Cosmology, Indian Hinduism/Buddhism, Japanese Shintoism as well as some things that came straight out of my little head. Hope you enjoyed!

For those who would know less about the subject, here's a simple lexicon that will help you better understand certain terms:

• Tasaiteikoku (多彩帝国): means 'Multi-Coloured Empire'.

• Jade Emperor

• Ametsukuto Clan (天竹取一族): Ametsukuto roughly means "Celestial Bamboo Harvesters"

Ōtsutsuki Clan (大筒木一族): Ōtsutsuki roughly means 'Big Bamboo Tree'

• Three-legged Crow

• Sun Goddess & Moon God

• Phratry

• White Rabbit

• Elixir of Life

• Divine Tree [see 'Wu Gang and the magic tree' in the "Important deities, spirits, and mythological people" section]

• Saṃsāra (輪廻) [So for some reason, the link doesn't want to display, I suspect it's because of the accents. All left is for you to google yourself, really sorry!]

• Zetsu (蜹): means 'gnat', or 'mosquito'.

• Emperor Lord Huangdi

• Kaguya (かぐや): is derived from an obscure passage in the second volume of the Kojiki about the genealogies of Emperor Suinin, the eleventh emperor of Japan, which states that he had a consort named Kaguyahime no Mikoto (迦具夜比売命), the daughter of a king named Ōtsutsukitarine no Miko (大筒木垂根王); tradition holds that these individuals served as the basis for Princess Kaguya and the old bamboo cutter in The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter.

• Hagoromo (はごろも): literally means 'feather mantle' and is a reference to The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter, in which Princess Kaguya is given a hagoromo to wear upon her return to the moon.

• Indra

• Vitra

• Tsukino (月野): is translated as 'A field under the moon'. Of course, it is ironic that the Sun clan is now owning a surname opposite to whom they represent.

• Hyūga (日向): is translated as 'A place in the sun'. Same goes for the Moon clan.

• Toneri (舎人): was a title held by low-ranking Japanese servants of royalty and nobility during the 7th century.

• Shambhala

[lanceippolito]

Winter Market Predictions For The End Of 2022

The probability of a recession in 2023 is fast rising. Although the markets have stabilized a bit, the rest of the year, 2022, seems unpromising for investors, with both equities and government bonds posting negative returns. 

Below, I have outlined the market predictions for this winter season of 2022.

The Chances Of A Recession In 2023 The primary reason for a recession prediction is the inverted yield curve. So far, the spread between the yields on the 10-year and 2-year treasury bonds is the most negative than it has been in 40 years.

The Federal Reserve Board is currently focused on payrolls and wages as the leading indicators for the U.S. economy and these factors have remained overheated.

On the other hand, the eurozone and the United Kingdom need help to avoid the coming recession due to the surging natural gas prices. China’s resurgent lockdown protocols against the Covid-19 pandemic have also weakened its economy, but it should recover by early 2023.

It is expected that if household and corporate finances remain strong, the recession can be limited to a mild one. The Inflation could be moderated, and the U.S. could experience a recovery in real spending power. 

This will, however, be determined by the Federal Reserve Board slowing down their tightening and pausing pace to a moderately restrictive level.

The Russia-Ukraine war and the increase in energy costs have played quite a role in the high inflation rate in 2022. Another factor was the cost pressure caused by pent-up demand as economies had just re-opened from the compulsory lockdown.

Core Inflation

Core inflation, which excludes energy and food costs, is at the edge of peaking in most regions. Durable goods prices have been the cause of the rise in core inflation. 

This is because the demand for these goods largely increased during the pandemic while the supply was blocked due to restricted production. As the supply chain normalizes, the prices for these goods will likely decline because the demand will move from goods to services. 

This should cause the core inflation in the U.S.U.S. to fall over the next few months of winter. However, for Inflation to fall close to 2%, it will require a reduction in employment creation and for wage growth to reduce from the current 7% annual rate of increase.

Will The U.S. Dollars Remain The Strongest Currency?

The U.S. dollar, in trade terms, has been the strongest currency since the Plaza Accord era in the mid-1980s. However, 2023 might see its decrease in value. 

The European economy will also improve when the Chinese economy rebounds by fully resuming production and ending the zero-tolerance Covid-19 lockdowns. This is because of the vital link between the two economies.  Follow me on Linkedin for more content like this!

[heyiwrotesomethings]

Royalty AU

ShinoMitsu Week 2022 Day Three

A/N: Ayooo! I have no business writing a Royalty AU but I did anyway to avoid the angst prompts. Still, I think it’s pretty fun. Biggest piece I wrote for the event! If you are looking for accurate setting info and whatnot you won’t find it here unfortunately, but hey! Cross dressing Shinobu in here, might be worth overlooking the other stuff, hm? Reference photo for the illustration here. Just like I have no business writing about royalty, I’ve got no business trying to draw any type of fashion. Hope you like it! Word Count:~13,500

Two countries waged war against each other for three hundred years. The original reason for the conflict was lost to time, but the hatred was just as fresh as the day it was conceived.

The Kanroji Family ruled over the vast mountain range and valleys of the east. Their castle clinging to the tallest mountain was an incredible sight. A passionate people, they fought for what they believed and loved just as furiously. Their strength was sought out by many.

The Kochou Family of the west, had domain over lush forests and serene lakes. It was well known that the wild flowers grown there were the most beautiful in the land. The people there, thought stern, yet fair. Clever people who knew how to make do with what they had. Many advances in medicine were discovered there.

Neither family could recall why they hated the other after all this time, but soon a new enemy had amassed an empire to the north, threatening the way of life of both kingdoms in a way that neither had witnessed in many generations. The king and queen of each domain met on neutral ground, the threat of Lord Muzan hanging over their heads driving their desperate need for cooperation.

“Kochou,” King Kanroji gruffly greeted, sitting his wife down at the table before seating himself.

“Kanroji, a pleasure,” Queen Kochou greeted in return, sounding overly sweet. Her husband assisting her into a chair before taking one for himself. “I believe you know why we invited you here?”

“Yes…” King Kanroji clicked his tongue, grounded only by his wife’s hand on his arm. “Muzan has been encroaching on both of our lands as of late.”

“His total disregard for human life and his misuse of power are unforgivable.” Queen Kochou nodded.

“So you want a truce, do you?” King Kanroji asked, he was not a fan of beating around the bush.

“Yes. I understand why it may be a difficult suggestion, but as it stands now, Muzan will overtake our kingdoms within a few short years. We both have resources the other lacks, if we work together we can overcome this threat to our peoples.” Queen Kochou explained, her husband nodding along.

“Perhaps you are worried for your kingdom, Kochou,” King Kanroji sniffed, looking down upon the small woman, “but as you know, I have the mountains. Only the strongest could survive the climb and then to try to fight my men, they would be dead before they could catch their breath.”

“Yes you have your mountains, Kanroji,” Queen Kochou acknowledged, her hand clenched tightly beneath the table, “but you also have the valleys where most of your food is produced. All Muzan would need to do is level those fields and he would starve you out. Are you really so stubborn—“

“Do you not understand why I cannot trust you?” King Kanroji bellowed, face red. “Three hundred years of conflict! How will I know that this is not some elaborate ploy? That you haven’t cut some deal with Muzan already?”

“I cannot prove anything to you beyond what that man has already taken from me,” Queen Kochou said, somehow managing to remain calm despite the large man yelling in her face.

“Then I can’t trust a word you say.”

The room became silent, the tension seemed to only grow in the absence of discussion. Queen Kochou and King Kanroji having a silent battle with eyes that could freeze a turbulent ocean twenty feet deep. Meanwhile, their respective spouses felt suffocated by the stand-off in the room.

“What will it take for you to agree to this truce?” Queen Kochou finally relented.

“A marriage.” King Kanroji says with finality. “If we are to fight together, I refuse to return to hostility. A marriage between our families will ensure that the feud between us is on a path of healing,” King Kanroji leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of his face. His pastel green eyes bore into Queen Kochou’s, such a deep purple they almost appeared black, “My eldest daughter, Mitsuri, is of age. I’ve heard tell of your difficulties conceiving children over the years.” He stated carelessly. “Were you able to produce an heir after your own daughter was born?”

“Yes, I was.” Queen Kochou affirmed without batting an eye. Her husband turned to look at her questioningly before thinking better of it. “A few years after Kanae was born we had success in conceiving again.”

King Kanroji’s gaze roamed over the Queen’s face, searching for some sign of deception. After a few tense moments, his wife squeezed his hand and nodded reassuringly. King Kanroji’s shoulders relaxed and he squeezed his wife’s hand in turn.

“So, Queen Kochou,” he cleared his throat, “Do we have a wedding to prepare for?”

“…I believe we do, King Kanroji.”

***

All things considered, Mitsuri took the news of an arranged marriage rather well. Which is to say, she didn’t take it well at all at first. Really? An arranged marriage with the son from her family’s sworn enemy? Granted, she still didn’t understand why their two families hated each other so much to begin with, but it was still a huge shock. Not to mention she had always dreamed of finding true love, and that rarely came out of arranged marriages. She had plenty of suitors that left her hanging as soon as they found flaw in her. What if this prince couldn’t stand her flaws either? They would be stuck together, wasting away in a loveless marriage. Only staying together long enough to make an heir or attend some royal function. That was not a life Mitsuri wanted. She cried in her room for the first several days upon hearing the news.

However, Mitsuri was nothing if not resilient, optimistic. It took some time, but she was warming up to the idea. This union was bigger than her and Prince Shinobu, this was going to end the three hundred year feud between their families and unite their kingdoms against Lord Muzan. And even if romantic love wasn’t in the cards for them, that didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends. Mitsuri prayed that it could be so.

“What are you thinking about, my strawberry?” Queen Kanroji asked from the sofa. She had been watching her daughter get fitted for her wedding clothes and caught her smile in the mirror.

“I’m looking forward to meeting Prince Shinobu, mother.” Mitsuri said, moving her arms out at the seamstresses’ direction, “Do you know anything about him?”

“Not at all, darling.” The Queen shook her head. “I have heard of Princess Kanae of the Kochou Family, but not a word of her younger brother, but if he is like his sister, then he should be a fairly benevolent young man.”

“I hope so.” Mitsuri’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, she was still nervous.

“No need to worry darling, you’ll have home field advantage with him moving into the castle. Your father made it very clear that you are our first priority in this agreement. If there is any treachery afoot, he will back out of the agreement immediately.”

“I know mother, and I’m very thankful. It’s just all happening so fast. I wish I could at least talk to him before the wedding day.”

“Perhaps a letter then.” The Queen advised, “Your father has been exchanging correspondences with Queen Kochou the last couple weeks. I believe the messenger will be leaving tomorrow morning, you could leave it with him.”

“That’s a great idea, mother!” Mitsuri beamed. “I’ll write it as soon as Nezuko is finished with me!”

After her fitting, Mitsuri practically ran to her room much to her mother’s dismay, and settled at her writing desk. She got out her prettiest stationary and readied her quill, finally pausing. She racked her brain before realizing she didn’t know what to write.

“Ah! Come on brain, think!” She groaned. This was harder than she thought. What should she say? After much deliberation, she decided to write about herself, an introduction. Hopefully Prince Shinobu would humor her by doing the same. The next morning, she caught the messenger boy before he left and gave him the letter smelling faintly of her favorite perfume.

***

“Is it too tight, Princess?” The seamstress asked, even as she continued to destroy Shinobu’s lung capacity.

“Yes.” Shinobu gritted her teeth together. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she felt foolish. Did her mother really think she could pass as a man for however long it took to stop Muzan’s army?

“Truly?” The seamstress, Aoi, loosened Shinobu’s chest bindings and the Princess gasped for air, rubbing gently at her tender flesh. “Apologies, Princess. I’ll try to make it looser, but that will mean you will probably need larger shirts and jackets to better conceal your chest.”

“If it means I can actually breathe, fine.” Shinobu grumbled.

“It is a noble thing you are doing for the kingdom, Princess Shinobu. Without this union, we would not have the numbers we need to keep Muzan at bay.“

“I know how important this marriage is to the kingdom. This is a small price to pay for a chance at peace after three hundred years of conflict.” Of course that peace could only stay intact for as long as she could keep up this ruse.

“How is it going in here, brother?”

“Do not call me your brother.” Shinobu snapped at Kanae. Glaring at her older sister’s reflection in the mirror as Kanae walked around the room.

“Well, I have to get used to it now, don’t I?” Kanae smiled sympathetically. “We both will. You may go tend to Kanao now, Aoi. I’ll take care of my grumpiest sister.”

“Very well, Princess.” Aoi bowed and then took her leave.

“So really, how are you feeling?” Kanae asked, coming up behind Shinobu to give her shoulders a comforting squeeze.

“About pretending to be a man and being shipped off to marry the daughter of our family’s longest standing enemies? I feel wonderful.” Shinobu answered with as much sarcasm as she could muster.

“Shinobu…”

“I know, I know! I’ll tell you the same thing I told mother. It’s a necessary sacrifice I am willing to make.” Shinobu noticed the sorrowful look her sister wore and frowned in kind. She knew it must be hard for her big sister to watch her go off and not be able to protect her. Shinobu sighed, “But if there was one good thing to come out of this mess, it’s that I get to wear these pants.”

Kanae giggled, “Are they really that comfortable?”

“Extremely. This on the other hand,” Shinobu motioned to the gauze and tape still covering her chest, “this is absolute hell. I swear my tits are where my lungs should be.”

“Shinobu, language!” Kanae laughed in earnest now, making Shinobu smile.

“What? I’m a man now, aren’t I? I can speak how I please.”

“Just don’t speak like that to Princess Mitsuri, the poor girl would probably faint.”

“I’m sure the topic of breasts will be off the table indefinitely.” Shinobu snorted, moving to change into something more comfortable.

“You don’t know that.” Kanae said, sitting down on Shinobu’s bed.

“Um, I’m pretty sure I do.” Shinobu shot her sister a look over her shoulder, “Yes, hello wife. It is I, your husband. I was wondering if you’d like to compare chest sizes. What do you say? I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Kanae doubled over, rolling across the bed and rumpling her dress as she laughed heartily.

“Oh,” Kanae gasped, trying to catch her breath, “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” Shinobu smiled sadly.

“Who knows what the future may hold, Shinobu.” Kanae smiled, “I’m not sure why, but I have a feeling everything is going to work out.”

Before Shinobu could ask Kanae to elaborate, a knock sounded from the door.

“Can you get that?” Shinobu asked, jogging to the attached bathroom and closing the door behind her.

Kanae got up and smoothed her dress and hair, then she walked to the door. Opening it, she greeted the young boy waiting in the hall, letter in hand.

“Hello, Tanjirou, isn’t it? Do you have correspondence for my mother?”

“Yes, Princess Kanae, I’m honored you remembered,” Tanjirou bowed, “I have already given Queen Kochou King Kanroji’s message, this however,” he presented a pink dyed envelope with a fancy wax crest, “Is for Prince Shinobu from Princess Mitsuri.

“I will accept it on his behalf, thank you.” Kanae said. She took the letter and bid the young messenger goodbye. She closed the door and twirled the letter in her hands, looking at it with interest.

“Who was that?” Shinobu asked, exiting the bathroom dressed in a nightgown.

“King Kanroji’s messenger boy came by with a letter for you from Princess Mitsuri.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Not at all! Look,” Kanae handed the envelope off to her sister.

Shinobu inspected the envelope, turning it every which way it her hands.

“What? Do you think she’s trying to poison you?” Kanae asked, one eyebrow raised high.

“Just looking,” Shinobu said defensively. She turned the letter over and picked at the seal, a sweet scent, perhaps vanilla, met her nose. She removed the stationary from the envelope and sat on her bed to read, rolling her eyes as her sister moved to read over her shoulder.

Shinobu read over the letter. It held all manner of details about Princess Mitsuri and her life in the mountains. It was only introductory information such as how many siblings she had, what her favorite color was and what kind of food she liked, but it did make Shinobu feel a little better about the stranger she had to marry. If this letter was anything to go by, she seemed nice enough.

“She sounds like a sweet girl.” Kanae declared once she finished reading. “Are you going to write her back?”

“Of course.” Shinobu said as if it should have been obvious. “If she’s going to go through all the effort it’s only right to return it in kind.”

“Awww, Shinobu! That’s so nice!” Kanae cooed, “I think you two might actually hit it off!”

Shinobu pushed Kanae away and scoffed, “This ‘relationship’ is being built upon a rather big lie, sister. Best not to get too attached.”

“So pessimistic.”

“Just being realistic.”

“Well I’m rooting for you!” Kanae ruffled Shinobu’s hair and ducked out of her way, skipping to the door. “I’ll leave you to your love letters, goodnight!”

“I am not writing a love letter!” Shinobu yelled after Kanae closed the door to her room. Shinobu groaned in annoyance and moved to her writing desk. She could write the letter now, and have the messenger boy deliver it to Princess Mitsuri when he left to return home the next day. As she wrote, she tried to be as honest and open as Mitsuri had been writing her letter. The only falsehood being her own signature, Prince Shinobu.

***

Mitsuri was working with her dance and etiquette instructor Hinatsuru, when she caught wind of Tanjirou’s return to the castle and bolted. Thus leaving Hinatsuru in the dust. The older woman crossed her arms and shook her head, yet she still smiled, having dealt with Mitsuri’s exuberance for years already.

Mitsuri slid down the banister, startling General Tengen and Lieutenant Makio when she nearly fell to the foyer below.

“Careful, Princess! Your father would have my hide if you up and died in front of me!” Tengen scolded as her pulled Mitsuri back to the stairs. “Shouldn’t you be in class right now anyway? At the very least you should have your guard accompanying you if you’re skipping out.”

“No time, I’m expecting a letter!” Mitsuri grinned, hiking up her skirts and clearing the rest of the stairs.

“Hina really has her work cut out for her.” Makio chortled as they watched Mitsuri run to open the front doors herself much to the butler’s distress. They continued on their way to the war room, smiling at the Princess’ giddy cheers.

“He actually wrote me back?” Mitsuri blushed, holding the letter Tanjirou gave her to her chest. “Did you see him, Tanjirou? What does he look like? What did is face look like when you gave him the letter?” She asked in rapid succession, overwhelming the poor messenger a bit.

“I apologize Princess, I did not get to see the Prince.” Tanjirou bowed deeply, “I was intercepted by Princess Kanae when dropping the letter off and she was the one to give me Prince Shinobu’s reply as well.”

“Oh, that’s fine. Don’t worry!” Mitsuri tried to hide her disappointment, “What is my future sister-in-law like?”

“She is very kind, Princess. Her voice is soft and she personally asked the chef to prepare dinner for me. She even had a lunch packed for my journey home.”

“That does sound nice, I’m glad!” Mitsuri beamed. “When do you suspect my father will send you out again?”

“I have yet to see him, but I suspect no more than a week. Should I expect another letter from you, Princess?”

“Yes, thank you Tanjirou. I simply must read this now. Rest well!”

Mitsuri was half way to her room when she quite literally bumped into her mother and behind her, Mitsuri’s guard, Kyoujirou. Uh oh, mother was giving her that look.

“Mitsuri, my darling daughter, can you tell me why Hinatsuru is currently reading alone in the ballroom?”

“Ah, well, I got a letter from Prince Shinobu, mother! I was just going to read it really quick—“

“No, no, no. You may read it after your lessons. To ensure you are listening to Hina, Kyoujirou will sit in until you are finished.”

“It seems I’ll be your jailer rather than protector this afternoon, Princess!” Kyoujirou yelled, his booming laughter causing the Queen to wince.

“Awww…” Mitsuri deflated. She spent the rest of the afternoon eyeing the letter every time Hinatsuru twirled her around as they danced.

***

“AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I win again!”

Shinobu groaned laying flat on her back, splattered with mud as Inosuke taunted her from above. With an inelegant grunt, she kicked at his shins, making him fall into the mud as well. Slowly, she got back to her feet as the young, wild guard rolled around in the mud.

“You need to be stronger.”

“Don’t you think I’m trying, Tomioka?” Shinobu huffed, pushing her hair and mud from her eyes to better glare at her stoic guard.

“Since you will be isolated in the Kanroji’s castle we cannot protect you. You will need to know how to—“

“—How to defend myself, I know! It’s not as if I have ever been given the opportunity until now! Just let me brew my poisons.”

“If they find poison on you, they will never trust you and the alliance will be good as dead.”

“Ugh! This is pointless!” Shinobu threw her wooden sword to the ground. “As if three weeks of training is going to save me should I require it! And you know I hate to acknowledge this, but I only pass five feet when I’m on the tips of my toes. A Kanroji soldier could crush me with his bare hands should he so desire.”

“…Then we will focus more on your agility and evasion tactics.” Giyuu blinked.

Shinobu rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, “You know, you’re supposed to say something more like, ‘oh no, Princess, you can certainly take down a full grown man twice your height and triple your weight.’”

“I’m sure you could, Princess. I saw how you kicked Duke Maeda when he got too fresh with you and your sisters.” Giyuu said, stoic as ever, “He went down like a pile of bricks.”

Shinobu smiled at that.

“Enough of this boring talk, fight me!” Inosuke roared, shoving the wooden sword back into Shinobu’s hand.

“Um! Shinobu?”

Shinobu put the sword back into Inosuke’s hand and the boy screamed with disappointment, instead shoving the sword in Giyuu’s hand and demanding him to fight instead.

“Kanao, what is it?” Shinobu asked as she walked up to her younger sister, stopping a little farther away since she was absolutely caked in mud and didn’t want to soil Kanao’s clothes.

“The Kanroji’s messenger boy…” Kanao blushed faintly, as she produced another pink envelope for Shinobu to see, “He had another letter for you from Princess Mitsuri.”

“Already?” Shinobu reached for the letter, but quickly withdrew. She didn’t want to get mud all over it. “Could you put it on my desk for me, please? I’m not exactly equipped for this at the moment.”

“Yes, I can do that.” Kanao nodded, yet she stayed in place as if she had more to say, but didn’t quite know how to proceed.

“Something on your mind?” Shinobu asked, accepting a towel from one of the young maids, Kiyo, to wipe at her face.

“Do you think it would be proper for me to show Tanjirou around the botanical gardens while he is here?”

“I don’t see why not. Take Inosuke with you just to be safe.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Inosuke!” Shinobu called out to the boy growling under Giyuu’s foot. “Wash all that mud off, you are to accompany my sister and the Kanroji messenger boy to the gardens.”

“Finally, something to do!” Inosuke cackled, scrambling to his feet once Giyuu freed him. He ran to the stream and belly flopped in. He rolled around and gurgled like he was drowning for a bit before emerging and running into the castle with a whoop.

“Remember to dress properly please! We do not run about the castle shirtless!” Shinobu yelled after him. The boy had promise, but he was still as feral as the day they took him in. She turned back to Kanao, “Have a good time, Kanao. Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe I will need to take no less than three baths to remove all this grime. Tomioka?”

“Yes, Princess.”

Shinobu slapped a handful of mud in her guard’s face. “Don’t think I didn’t see that little smile when I slipped earlier.”

“Apologies, Princess.” Giyuu said monotonously, swiping the mud from his eyes.

Shinobu took another towel from Kiyo and followed after her younger sister. Once Naho and Sumi prepared her second bath, Shinobu fully relaxed into the tub. All the while the possible contents of Princess Mitsuri’s letter were swimming through her mind.

***

The wedding day was quickly approaching, but Mitsuri was no longer worried in the slightest after exchanging several letters with her Prince, her Prince! Ah! She could just about sing from the highest mountain peak! After exchanging those several letters, Mitsuri could feel herself falling harder and harder for the man.

He was so eloquent in his writings. So clever and sweet. If his written word made her swoon so, she couldn’t imagine what hearing the words roll off of his tongue would do to her. Oh how she longed to finally meet him, to put a face to the man of her dreams. She told him as such in her latest letter. Mitsuri had never felt so brazen. They never spoke of their upcoming union in their letters, nor had they ever dared speak of anything improper. Just expressing her desire and excitement at the prospect of meeting him felt too personal and gave her butterflies.

Shinobu, on the other hand, was growing more and more anxious as the day drew closer. She had always wanted to treat Mitsuri with respect. Just because they had to get married, didn’t mean they couldn’t get along, but she had honestly developed feelings for this girl through only reading her letters. She had a softness and warmth that carried through her writing, drawing Shinobu in like a moth to flame.

When Mitsuri wrote of how excited she was to meet face to face, it made Shinobu’s heart feel heavy. Whatever image Mitsuri had of her, of this Prince, she just knew it would end in disappointment. Mitsuri’s writing was so honest and uninhibited… it would surely break Shinobu’s heart two times over if Mitsuri found out she was actually a woman. Still, she played her part, burying her insecurities deep inside her so as not to alarm her family. Though Kanae did expect something was amiss, Shinobu gave her sister no opportunities to confront her about it. Not that she needed an excuse, the wedding was to be had on neutral grounds tomorrow and Shinobu had to perfect living out a lie until Muzan’s forces could be defeated.

***

“Where are those damn Kochous? They’re late!” King Kanroji grumbled, tapping his fingers anxiously against the arm of his chair.

“Have patience dear, they aren’t terribly late…” Queen Kanroji tried to console.

Mitsuri, though she was sitting right next to her parents, could not tell you what they were talking about. She had her head in the clouds, imagining her Prince walking through the double doors and sweeping her off of her feet. Her younger siblings were also largely unbothered, instead chasing each other around the pews and weaving between guards.

“If they think they can just waltz through those doors— oh,” he clears his throat, “there they are.”

Giyuu and Zenitsu, the Kochou messenger boy, opened the doors and stood, stoically and nervously respectively, on either side as Queen and King Consort Kochou stepped inside, General Gyomei filing in behind them. The man nearly filled the whole entry way and blocked out the sun as he ducked inside.

Mitsuri watched in awe as her soon to be in laws were seated across the isle from them. She tried to discreetly get a good look at them, but the Queen noticed her and sent a smile her way. A blush flared quickly over Mitsuri’s skin and she faced front again, watching two guards, Sanemi and Inosuke, guide Kanae and Kanao to seats of their own. Mitsuri saw how Kanae waved and spoke softly to her boisterous siblings and smiled. She really was quite kind. Kanao, seemed to hide behind her older sister a bit which Mitsuri found cute. She was just as shy as Prince Shinobu had told her in his letters. Her heart began pounding in her chest, speaking of Prince Shinobu, he must be coming in next! She quickly looked back at the doors, and forgot how to breathe.

He was… strangely beautiful. Not that it was strange for a man to be beautiful! She just hadn’t expected that to be the first word to come to mind.

“Hah, poor boy must have gotten all his mother’s genes,” King Kanroji snickered only loud enough for his party to hear, “He might even be shorter than her.”

“Be nice, dear.” Queen Kanroji scolded quietly, subtly smacking his arm.

“I’ll be plenty nice. Nothing to worry about from a frail boy like that certainly. I’m sure Mitsuri can handle him easily should he try to cause any problems.”

Mitsuri couldn’t stop staring.

Prince Shinobu was not at all what she imagined. His features were soft and smooth in appearance and he was indeed shorter than she would have thought. No visible muscle or stubble, and his hair looked ever so soft and shiny tied up in the back as a short ponytail while two shorter swatches of hair hung on either side of his delicate face. As he walked, he almost seemed to glide down the isle. Filled with the poise and grace that Hinatsuru nearly had to beat into Mitsuri during their lessons.

Mitsuri practically jumped out of her skin as she realized her Prince was standing before her, offering his hand to her, she latched on quickly, her heart beating faster knowing that his skin really was as soft as it looked. She looked up into his deep, purple eyes unable to comprehend the various feelings they held.

“It’s an honor to finally meet you, Princess Mitsuri.” Shinobu spoke.

Shinobu’s voice fell upon Mitsuri like a misting of rain. A sound sweeter than anything her wildest fantasies could have thought up. Shinobu’s lips twitched ever so slightly and Mitsuri’s skin bloomed with the heat of a forest fire. She had been staring this whole time. She hasn’t said a word! Quick, say something! Anything!

“You’re beautiful!”

Anything other than that!

“I- I mean, um, good to meet you too, uh, an honor to… the honor is mine!”

Mitsuri could feel sweat rolling down her back. Her parents put their heads in their hands and Mitsuri wanted desperately to copy the position. But then Prince Shinobu laughed, his smile stretching a bit wider.

“Thank you, Princess. Though I must say I believe my looks pale in comparison to yours. You are more lovely than I could have ever imagined.” Shinobu said, basically killing Mitsuri on the spot.

Mitsuri gaped like a fish, trying to find words, but all her brain could do was send screams and squeals bouncing around her skull. She further short circuited when Prince Shinobu lightly squeezed her hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles before withdrawing. He bowed and then went to take his seat, leaving Mitsuri totally incapacitated.

“Maybe I’ll need to keep an eye on him after all.” King Kanroji grumbled.

From then on, King Kanroji and Queen Kochou took control, signing various documents and discussing how to proceed against Muzan’s army. Finally, it was time to seal all agreements and end hostilities between their lands forever.

Mitsuri stood on shaky legs nearly swooning when Shinobu put a hand to her lower back to help steady her. Together, they stood before their respective parents and with a few flowery words, their marriage set in stone.

“I’m so proud to call you my child.” Queen Kochou said, pulling Shinobu into a hug.

“The castle won’t be the same without you, we’ll miss you.” King Consort Kochou sniffled, hugging Shinobu tightly along with his wife.

Kanae and Kanao rushed in next, nearly tackling Shinobu into the ground.

“We’ll write you often.” Kanae promised, not even trying to hide her tears. “We love you.”

“Stay safe and come home to visit soon.” Kanao murmured into Shinobu���s clothes.

“I will. I’ll write you all whenever I can.” Shinobu promised in return.

“They’re acting as if they’re sending the boy off to war.” King Kanroji scoffed as he entered his carriage behind his wife. “What do they think we’re going to do, eat him?”

“Oh, they’re just saying their goodbyes dear. I imagine you’d be bawling like a baby if it was Mitsuri who was moving into their castle.”

“I would not!” The King huffed, though his eyes softened as he watched the Kochous finish their farewells in silence. Until he noticed that Shinobu and Mitsuri were getting in the final carriage, alone.

“Kyoujirou!”

“Yes, my Lord?” Kyoujirou answered loudly.

“Ride up with Mitsu. Be sure that boy keeps his hands to himself.”

“Yes my Lord!” Kyoujirou said even louder, running over to the newlyweds and joining them with a hearty laugh.

“They are married now, dear.” Queen Kanroji giggled, “If you wanted to play overprotective father, you should have had them courting these last several weeks.”

King Kanroji waved her off, glaring suspiciously at the carriage behind him as best he could.

***

“You two sure are quiet!” Kyoujirou’s booming laughter filled the empty space. The carriage had been winding its way up the Rocky Mountain pass and hardly a few handfuls of words had been shared in that time. “I can’t speak for you Prince Shinobu, but Princess Mitsuri is usually much more lively!”

“Kyou!” Mitsuri blushed. The reason they weren’t talking right now should be obvious even to him, she thought. Kyoujirou standing opposite of the door looking down on them as they sat on opposite side of the carriage felt incredibly awkward!

“I apologize,” Shinobu smiled contritely, “I must say I’m not used to this thin mountain air. It’s a little dizzying.”

“Oh no! I should have warned you about the elevation change! I’m so sorry!” Mitsuri scrambled from her side of the carriage to sit beside Prince Shinobu. Gods, he even smelled amazing… Not now Mitsuri!

“Here, lay down.” Mitsuri said, already guiding Shinobu’s head and shoulders to her lap.

“Ah, going to teach him how to do some proper belly breaths Princess? Good idea!” Kyoujirou praised, still standing firm as the carriage bounced over a patch of particularly rocky terrain.

“Place one hand on your stomach and one on your chest.” Mitsuri instructs, “When you breathe in, instead of taking the air towards your chest, take it towards your stomach. This way, you’ll take in more air. It’ll sound a little like, fwoooooooo and leave pressure in your belly, get it?”

Shinobu was finding it a little more difficult to breathe now than before with those wide, green eyes staring into her very soul. Still, she tried to do as Mitsuri instructed, her heart fluttering at the praise older girl gave her. Come on Shinobu, she internally berated herself, you are not being a very convincing man right now!

“I think I’m feeling better now, thank you.” Shinobu cleared her throat and tried to sit up, only for Mitsuri to place her hand on Shinobu’s chest.

“Please, stay down. It will help with the dizziness.” Mitsuri explained, withdrawing her hand to rest in against Shinobu’s forehead instead.

“Yes! Wouldn’t want you fainting on us, Prince!” Kyoujirou agreed.

“…Alright.” Shinobu succeeded in hiding the tremor in her voice. That was much to close. She was lucky Aoi was so good at her job, Mitsuri hadn’t seemed to notice anything amiss with that touch. However, it was the wake up call Shinobu needed to remember that she had to be more careful.

“Almost home!” Kyoujirou shouted. “I’m sure some rest will do you good, Prince Shinobu! Don’t worry, you’ll get acclimated in no time!”

“Thank you, Kyoujirou.”

Shinobu was warmed by Mitsuri’s desire to dote on her as they exited the carriage together. They had only just met, and although they had sent each other letters, Shinobu wouldn’t have though it would be enough to be treated with such care.

“What’s wrong, lad? Air too thin for you?” King Kanroji laughed, slapping Shinobu a little too hard on the back.

“It will certainly take some time to adjust, your majesty, but your daughter has been ever kind and patient with me.”

“That’s my Mitsuri all right!” He lowered himself to whisper into Shinobu’s ear, “Mistreat her and treaty be damned I will end you!” He rose back to his full height, patting Shinobu on the shoulder, “Let’s see what feast Suma has prepared for us tonight!”

Dinner was a hearty and boisterous affair, much different from the dinners Shinobu was used to back at home. Though she supposed having five young children would do that. It was different, but not unwelcome. She handed her roll to one of Mitsuri’s grabby little brothers and smiled at the look of absolute joy that came over his face before shoving the whole thing in his mouth. The act reminded her of Inosuke.

“Full already, sweetheart? That’s unusual. Are you ill?”

Shinobu turned her attention to Queen Kanroji and Mitsuri. The Queen had her hand on Mitsuri’s forehead for a moment until Mitsuri pushed it away.

“I’m fine, mother. I ate plenty.”

“If your are certain…”

Mitsuri sensed Shinobu’s gaze on her and flashed a nervous smile. It concerned Shinobu, but she didn’t want to draw further attention. Perhaps she could ask Mitsuri how she was feeling later.

When dinner was finished, Mitsuri practically dragged Shinobu away to their shared chambers, much to her father’s dismay. All of Shinobu’s bags were already inside what could only be described as a house within the castle. Three bedrooms with attached bathrooms, a shared living space, an office, and a large balcony overlooking the mountain range.

“What do you think?” Mitsuri asked seemingly still full of nerves since dinner, “Do you think you’ll be comfortable here?”

“Yes, it’s wonderful.” Shinobu assured, grabbing her luggage to move into her new bedroom.

“Oh! Let me help you unpack!” Mitsuri followed, only to be dissuaded by Shinobu.

“That’s quite alright. I can handle it. Take some time to relax, I’ll be done shortly.”

“Oh, okay.” Mitsuri made room for Shinobu to walk past her with arms full of luggage. Shinobu set down the bags on the bed and gave Mitsuri a little wave and a smile before closing the door.

Mitsuri sighed and sat down on the couch. Of course he’d want a little space to settle in, but now she was feeling anxious. She had been so weird today! What if he was already starting to have doubts? Her stomach growled mournfully and she pressed her hand against her belly to stifle it. Maybe she should take this time to freshen up!

Mitsuri fisted her skirts in her hands and jogged to her own room, she quickly undressed and scrubbed her body clean in the fastest bath of her life. She dried herself off and brushed her hair into a single braid. Then she looked over her nightclothes and bit her lip. Would Prince Shinobu find any of these enticing? Mitsuri wasn’t sure she was ready to do anything of a more sensual nature as of yet, but she still wanted Prince Shinobu to find her attractive. She put on one of her favorite silk nightgowns and returned to the couch, trying to find an appealing pose before Shinobu returned.

Meanwhile, Shinobu was glad she had managed stop Mitsuri from helping her unpack. She hid her binders under her pile of trousers and all of her feminine products deep within the cupboard beneath the bathroom sink. Once everything was strategically placed, she locked herself in the bathroom and practically tore her clothes off. The combination of the binder and the thin mountain air was less than pleasant. She washed herself and begrudgingly put her binder back on, along with more comfortable clean clothes. She couldn’t wait to go to bed.

When Shinobu returned to the living space, she was paralyzed by Mitsuri. She watched her testing out various positions on the couch, some more ridiculous than others, but nonetheless she took Shinobu’s breath away.

“Eep! Prince Shinobu! I didn’t notice you came back!” Mitsuri blushed, sitting rigidly against the couch.

“Sorry, I did not mean to startle you and please, just Shinobu is fine.”

“Then please call me Mitsuri! Here, sit with me!” Mitsuri rapidly patted the space next to her, stiff as a board.

“You look very nice Mitsuri, I like your nightgown.” Shinobu took the seat, not fairing much better than Mitsuri. She knew Mitsuri was gorgeous, but this was too much.

“Thank you.” Mitsuri bit her lip, “Hey… Shinobu?”

“Yes, Mitsuri?”

“I, um, I’m—“

Mitsuri’s stomach decided then to interrupt her.

“Hungry?” Shinobu chuckled.

“No, no I ate plenty. You saw dinner…”

“Your mother expressed worry about your lack of appetite. You should eat something. Do you think Suma is still in the kitchens?”

“I’m fine.”

Shinobu sat closes to Mitsuri, staring inches in front of her face. Mitsuri’s heartbeat picked up in tempo. Was Shinobu going to kiss her, already?

“I’ll be right back.” Shinobu declared, standing up and walking briskly to the door.

Mitsuri jumped to her feet when Shinobu finally returned. Shinobu opened the door wide, and Suma came in with a cart full of food.

“Here you are, Princess! I’m glad your appetite returned!” Suma skipped, parking the cart in the middle of the room. “Anything else, Prince Shinobu?”

“That’s all, thank you for your help Suma.”

“You’re very welcome!” Suma blushed, bowed and scurried from the room, closing the door behind her.

“What’s all this for?” Mitsuri asked, her stomach growling again and the delicious aroma met her nose.

“You’re hungry. Please, eat. Why are you denying yourself sustenance?” Shinobu questioned pointedly.

“It’s just… you won’t think it’s unseemly for me to eat so much?”

“Not at all.” Shinobu frowned, “Who has told you to think such a thing?”

“An old suitor…”

“Well he is a fool, an ass.”

“Shinobu!” Mitsuri could hardly believe such a delicate face could speak in such a way. Another thing to add to her mental list of what made Shinobu attractive.

“Should I ever have the chance to meet him, you point him out to me and I will show him what unseemly really means as I throw him off the highest peak of this mountain.” Shinobu fumed.

He really was dreamy. Another point, hot when angry.

Mitsuri took Shinobu’s hand in her own and squeezed it, “Thank you.”

Shinobu blew a gust of air out of her nose and smiled, squeezing Mitsuri’s hand in return.

“You don’t have to change a thing about yourself, understand?”

Mitsuri nodded.

“I’d like to hear you say it.”

“I understand.”

“Thank you,” Shinobu sighed, “Now please eat.”

While Mitsuri ate, Shinobu sipped tea and they chatted. Eventually getting comfortable enough that they were joking and laughing together. Mitsuri never felt more at ease, but soon enough the food and tea were gone and the conversation grew quiet and Mitsuri didn’t know what else she should do so she leaned in close to Shinobu, aimed her lips to meet his… and she bumped her lips against his cheek instead when Prince Shinobu suddenly turned his head.

“Huh?” Mitsuri blinked, pulling back slightly.

“We don’t need to rush into anything just yet.” Shinobu said, her heart pounding from the close quarters. Did Mitsuri really like her enough to try to kiss her so soon? “We may be married now, but don’t feel pressured to go any further until you are ready, okay?”

Mitsuri’s eyebrows pinched in confusion. Sure a kiss was special, that’s what she had always believed since she was a little girl, but having been kissed by a handful of suitors in her past, she didn’t think it was such a problem to want to kiss her husband. Especially when he was so sweet. So why did Prince Shinobu turn away? He did look rather pink, perhaps…

“Have you ever kissed someone before, Shinobu?” Mitsuri asked, batting her eyelashes.

“Besides my family, no…” Shinobu admitted bashfully.

“Have you ever even courted someone before?”

“No.” Well, her mother had tried to set her up with that one guy, Murata? He was nice enough, but it soon became obvious to everyone that Shinobu was not interested in him in the slightest. Or any other man for that matter.

“Wow! You’re newer to this than I would have thought!” Mitsuri marveled openly, “I never would have guessed, you were always so suave in your letters.”

“Is it really so strange?”

“No! Not at all!” Mitsuri fumbled. “I’m just excited that I’ll have all your firsts! I mean— I didn’t— that’s not how I wanted to say that!

To Mitsuri’s relief, Shinobu laughed, and not an awkward polite laugh, a real one. It was one of the most wonderful sounds she ever heard and it only made her want to kiss her Prince more.

“So you’ve kissed suitors before then?” Shinobu asked, still giggling a bit.

“Yes.”

“The unseemly one?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Shinobu gave Mitsuri a shy look that made Mitsuri’s heart flutter. The Pseudo-Prince then leaned in and surprised Mitsuri by kissing her forehead, then she stood up, smiling down at Mitsuri.

“It’s getting late, we should sleep. I’ll see you in the morning, sleep well.”

Mitsuri looked out at the glass doors of the balcony, it was indeed late. She wished the night didn’t have to end, but she was tired as well. She stood and kissed the top of Shinobu’s head before dancing away.

“Good night, Shinobu. Sleep well.”

Shinobu was right, no need to rush. They had the rest of their lives together. Mitsuri was really looking forward to see how they would grow together. She went to bed excited for what the future would bring.

Shinobu watched Mitsuri twirl away into her bedroom before all but running into hers. She unbuttoned her shirt and freed herself from her binder before unceremoniously flopping into her bed. She pulled a pillow down to where she laid and hid her face in it. Mitsuri wanted to kiss Prince Shinobu. Would she ever want to kiss Princess Shinobu? She tossed and turned for awhile but eventually fell asleep.

***

Mitsuri was starting to get anxious again. Shinobu had been in the castle for nearly a month. It had been one of the best months of Mitsuri’s life, but she couldn’t help but think Shinobu was hiding something from her. Not to mention that all her attempts to kiss the Prince thus far were thwarted. He always turned his head or someone would interrupt. It was rather discouraging. When she was being courted, boys usually couldn’t wait to kiss her. Oh how the tables had turned.

“Mitsuri, something on your mind?” Shinobu asked, serving Mitsuri a cup of tea before sitting across from her. They had decided to take tea on the balcony. Windy, but refreshing and the view was incredible.

“I saw this and it reminded me of you!” Mitsuri blurted, pulling a flower from her lap and presenting it to Shinobu.

“Oh!” Shinobu accepted the flower, and took in its delicate scent with a small grin, “Thank you, Mitsuri. I love it. It reminds me of home.”

“I’d love to visit your homeland someday. Hopefully this war ends soon.”

“I hope so too, I think you’d like it there.”

“I already like it because if you came from there, it must be nothing less than magnificent.”

“You flatter me, Mitsuri. I don’t know why you think so highly of me.” Prince Shinobu blushed and looked away like a maiden and Mitsuri supposed, in a way, he kind of was. Having never courted anyone he was so nervous to get close to her. Maybe, Mitsuri thought, she should take more initiative.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Mitsuri scooted closer, batting her eyelashes, “I like you a lot,” she lowers her voice, drawing closer to her Prince’s lips, “you’re a real gentleman…”

Her lips met jaw, thwarted again.

“Thank you.” Shinobu murmured, looking over the mountain range again.

Mitsuri’s brain couldn’t stop her mouth quick enough.

“Shinobu, are you gay?!”

“Huh?” Shinobu snapped her head back to Mitsuri, eyes owlishly wide. How did she know?! Oh, wait, she was a man right now, right.

“Ah! Sorry!” Mitsuri was panicking, “I didn’t mean— I, that was so rude of me, I’m sorry! There is nothing wrong with it if you are, I should have gone about it better. I just have wanted to kiss you for weeks now, and you haven’t let me. I thought you were just nervous so I wanted to take the lead. Now I’ve made it uncomfortable, haven’t I?” Mitsuri sunk into her seat, pressing her face into the table.

Shinobu smiled in a sympathetic manner and patted Mitsuri on the back, “It’s alright, don’t beat yourself up.”

“But… are you?” It would be just Mitsuri’s luck that the man she fell for wasn’t into women. That’s probably why he was always so clean, smelled nice, had good fashion sense… Gods, he had to be!

“I’m not a gay man, Mitsuri.” Shinobu told her, which wasn’t a lie. She was a gay woman. ✨Loopholes✨. However, this was still getting harder. She didn’t want Mitsuri to think she was taking advantage of her when she inevitably found out she was also a woman.

“Then why won’t you let me kiss you?” Mitsuri sniffled, “Do you not like me?”

Oh no, Shinobu would throw herself off the mountain if she made Mitsuri cry.

“Listen, Mitsuri,” Shinobu swallowed, she would have to try to word this carefully… “I do like you, very much in fact. I just don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Mitsuri removed her head from the table to look at Shinobu with watery eyes.

“What do you mean? How is it taking advantage if we both want it?”

“There is one thing about myself that I have not been truthful about since the very beginning. I fully intend on telling you, but it must wait until the war is won. If what I reveal to you does not change what you feel for me, then nothing would make me happier than to feel your lips upon mine.”

“Shinobu, what do you mean? What are you hiding? What could be so awful that you think I won’t love you anymore?” Mitsuri wracked her brain for some clue, something she might have overlooked or missed, but came up empty.

“I can’t tell you, just please believe me when I say—“

“Excuse me Princess Mitsuri, Prince Shinobu,” Kyoujirou’s loud voice carried through all the way from the front door of their chambers, booming knocks shook the paintings on the walls. “A word if I may?”

“Come in Kyou,” Mitsuri called back, gently dabbing underneath her eyes. She looked at Shinobu over her shoulder, “This conversation isn’t over.”

Kyoujirou entered the living space, a man with messy, black hair walked stiffly behind him. Upon seeing the royal couple he suddenly looked more lively, sending Mitsuri and Shinobu a crooked smile as he bowed before them.

“Meet the new recruit! This is Kaigaku, he will be training under me to be a protector of the royal family. He shows promise thus far!”

“Thank you sir,” Kaigaku said, his eyes not straying from where the royal couple stood, “I want to give my all to serve the noble Kanroji family.”

“Thank you for your service,” Mitsuri acknowledged, “My family greatly appreciates such dedication.”

“Oh Princess, I assure you,” Kaigaku grins, “it’s an honor to be within these castle walls.”

Kyoujirou chatted with Mitsuri for a few minutes before they had to go. Mitsuri showed them out with a smile that only held long enough for her to close the door. She turned to Shinobu who was looking over the balcony railing, head hung low.

***

The war waged on for another two months, but Mitsuri knew that they were approaching the turning point in their favor if what her overheard her father say was anything to go by. So she decided that now was the time to finally pull Prince Shinobu’s secret out of him. She could feel the strain in her heart taking over more times than not. It was clear to Mitsuri now, that if they continued to dance around this matter, she wouldn’t be able to take the ache much longer.

She walked into their chamber’s office and couldn’t help but smile faintly, watching from the doorway as Prince Shinobu diligently wrote a letter to his sisters.

Seeming to sense her presence, Shinobu’s quill paused, and turned to give Mitsuri a weary smile of her own.

“Mitsuri, do you need something?” She asked despite knowing that they have only rehashed the same conversation for the last few days.

“I can’t keep going like this, Shinobu.” Mitsuri murmured, taking a seat at her desk. “You can’t either.”

“I told you, I cannot tell you until after the war.” Shinobu frowned.

“What does the war have to do with our marriage? Anything you have to tell me, you can tell me now.”

“Our marriage exists because of the war, Mitsuri.” Shinobu reminded, rubbing at her forehead. “It’s what unites our kingdoms against Muzan. If we fall apart now, all will be lost.”

“Why can’t you trust me!” Mitsuri cried out, startling Shinobu. She never heard Mitsuri raise her voice out of anger or frustration, “I’m not so childish as to walk away from this. Thousands would be killed if our kingdoms split. I’m not stupid, Shinobu!”

“Of course you aren’t stupid!” Shinobu rose her voice in return, “I just… I can’t tell you right now.” Shinobu tried to take Mitsuri’s hand in a comforting manner, but Mitsuri pulled back and stood up, fighting back tears as she ran out of the office and out of their chambers.

“Mitsuri, wait!” Shinobu threw her quill down, ink splattering across her half finished letter. Her legs got caught in her chair as she tried to stand up and she lost balance and fell. With a string of curses, she kicked the chair away and and got back to her feet, running out into the hall.

Shinobu looked both ways, and felt helplessness fall over her like a weighted blanket. Mitsuri was already gone, but she couldn’t be far. She had to find her, console her somehow. Shinobu knew it was hard, she was hurting too, but Mitsuri would just have to understand that she couldn’t tell her who she was just yet. Shinobu chose a direction and ran as fast as her legs could carry her.

Mitsuri kept running until she made it into the solarium and collapsed face down into the cushy chaise lounge chair, sobs shaking her entire body. Eventually she tired, and moved to lay on her back. Usually the solarium would make her feel better, but Shinobu had made a little plant nursery in the room that had Mitsuri wanting to cry all over again.

“Why can’t he trust me?” Mitsuri whispered hoarsely, reaching out to stoke a delicate leaf with her finger. “Can’t he see how much I love him?”

“Princess Mitsuri, are you alright?”

Mitsuri sat up and wiped at her tears, forcing a smile to her face.

“Oh, Kaigaku, hello. I’m fine, just a little stressed. You know, war and all…”

“Ah, I can sympathize with that. Would you like some company, Princess? I’m a good listener.” Kaigaku asked, already drawing closer. “Captain Kyoujirou has been putting me threw the wringer, but I have a break right now. Is Prince Shinobu around?”

“He’s writing to his sisters right now. I hope you don’t find me rude, but I came here to be alone.”

Kaigaku laughs, and Mitsuri jumps in her seat and harshness of the sound, her forehead wrinkles as she asks, “What is so funny?”

“You are a really hard person to catch alone, you know that?” Kaigaku sighs, Mitsuri gasps when he pulls a knife from a leather sheath in his jacket. “I thought I’d only have to suffer here a week tops, but two months? Lord Muzan was getting impatient with me so thank you for finally giving me this opportunity.”

“You’re working for Muzan?!” Mitsuri attempts to stand but when Kaigaku points to knife at her she sits back, angled as far away from the knife as she can be.

“You just sit right there and look pretty alright? I have a lot to get off my chest right now, you know? ‘Be nice to have someone to monologue to a bit.” Kaigaku flips the knife between his hands.

“You see Princess, your little marriage uniting the Kanrojis and the Kochous has really put a damper on Lord Muzan’s plans. We never would have thought that after a three hundred year feud, your kingdoms would ever see eye to eye. It’s infuriating, annoying, but,” he points the knife back at Mitsuri, “It’s a fragile bond.”

“If something were to happen to you, the King would be devastated, wouldn’t he? Treaty be damned, he would wreak justice on whomever he believed responsible, wouldn’t he?”

“Why would our union with the Kochous suffer for something you did to me?” Mitsuri asked, her expression now stern even in the face of danger.

“Me?” Kaigaku feigned disbelief, dropping the act in his next breath, “I’m not here, I’m resting in my room after all the drills that airhead Kyoujirou put me through. Kochou on the other hand, he’s almost always with you, isn’t he?”

“No!” Mitsuri could see where this was going, “He is a kind and gentle man! No one would believe such a thing!”

“But they will, because grief does things to people. It won’t help that I snagged this knife off of a Kochou soldier’s corpse when I was on the front lines. Still has the poison and everything.”

“Don’t do this, please!” Mitsuri subtly grabbed the lounge pillow beside her, she needed to time this just right…

“Don’t worry, I’m sure your precious husband will be joining you shortly!” Kaigaku thrusted the knife forward and at the same time, Mitsuri flung the pillow, causing Kaigaku to stab through the chaise lounge instead. Using the momentary surprise to her advantage, she kicked Kaigaku in the stomach as hard as she could and tumbled out of his reach, rushing towards the door.

“Get back here, bitch!” Kaigaku wheezed, why was that girl’s kick so strong? He wrenched the knife from the chaise and ran after her, cursing when he hears her yelling for help in the hallway.

It becomes a bit of a game of cat and mouse, until Mitsuri trips on her dress and tumbles to the floor. To make matters worse, she caught her forehead on a table on the way down, shattering a vase as well. Mitsuri groaned, putting a hand to her forehead and finding it wet.

Kaigaku smirked, closing the distance he assumed that the wide-eyed look Mitsuri wore was one of fear, not surprise at the person who was rushing behind him.

“Get away from her, you bastard!”

A weight crashes against his back, a flower pot, tiny arms pummle and pull at his back and Kaigaku turns with a dark chuckle, shoving Shinobu into the nearest wall, hard.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the little Prince. What a daring display, too bad you were born with all the ferocity of a kitten!” He spat, turning back to Mitsuri, he rose the knife, stumbling back a bit when Shinobu wrapped her arms around him in an attempt to keep him away from Mitsuri. “Get off me, damn it!”

Kaigaku wrenched himself free, all but throwing Shinobu at Mitsuri. The couple struggled to help each other to their feet. He could hear voices now, metal clanking and leather stretching, armed men sprinting down the hall. Damn it! He had failed. They would all know! He snarled, no. He hadn’t failed yet, it wasn’t the way Lord Muzan wanted, but he could still kill the Princess!

“Halt!” Kyoujirou roared behind him, still not close enough. Tengen and Makio close on his heels.

The knife flew out of Kaigaku’s hand at high velocity, aimed squarely at the Princess, it was a flawless throw… If only the Prince hadn’t gotten in the way! Kaigaku had no time to react as he was thrown to the ground by General Tengen. He still didn’t fail, right? Once the Prince died, surely it would destroy the morale of the Kochou troops. Lord Muzan would come for him, right?

“Shinobu!” Mitsuri cried, dropping to kneel beside her Prince, hands shaking as she moved to grab the knife embedded in his chest.

“Don’t touch it.” Shinobu instructed between heavy breaths. “Just leave it to me, okay?”

“Shinobu, it’s poisoned!” Mitsuri cried harder, “You need to take it out now!”

“Don’t worry, I recognized the blade. I’ve encountered this poison more times than I can count in my lab back home. It won’t have much affect on me.”

“Get Doctor Tamayo, Makio!” Tengen yelled, “You, inform the King and Queen! And you, get the rest of the royal family on lock down. Kyoujirou, I need you to summon all staff and guard. If there was one mole, there might be more. Hey—! Stay put Prince Shinobu, you shouldn’t be moving!”

“I can take care of myself!” Shinobu shouted, more as a response to pain and stress than because of Tengen himself.

“Where are you going?” Mitsuri stumbled, chasing after Shinobu with a slight limp.

“I can fix myself, Mitsuri. Just stay here and wait for the doctor, you have a nasty cut on your head.”

“I’m not letting you go alone!”

“Please!” Shinobu shouted.

“No!” Mitsuri shouted in return, “General Tengen, we will be in our chambers, have someone send word to Makio to send her there!”

“Yes, Princess!” Tengen growled. It was not what he thought was wise, but his forces were spread thin as it stood and he had Kaigaku to deal with. “Be vigilant!”

Mitsuri nodded and without warning, lifted Shinobu into her arms and moved as quickly as she could through the hallway. When they made it to their chambers, Mitsuri took Prince Shinobu to his room, setting him carefully onto the bed.

“What do you need?” Mitsuri asked, buzzing with nervous energy.

“I can take care of myself. Wait outside, please.” Shinobu groaned, wiping a thin sheen of sweat from her brow.

“I’m not letting you do this alone. I’m stronger than you, I won’t let you push me out anymore!” Mitsuri said resolutely. She pushed Shinobu to lay fully against the bed with as little force as she could. “What do you need?”

“Mitsuri, please go—“

“No!” Mitsuri towered over Shinobu, “No more hiding! We are married! This is a partnership and we are in this together!” Mitsuri breathed heavily, “You saved my life, you brave, stupid man. Let me help you now, or it will kill me!”

“I… Under the sink, everything I need should be in a box under the sink.” Shinobu hissed, lightly probing the site around the knife.

Mitsuri ducked into the bathroom a big, white box immediately caught her attention and she rushed back to the bedroom, screaming when she saw Prince Shinobu sitting up. He had removed the knife and a few of his top layers leaving just in a white undershirt stained with blood.

“What did you do?!” Mitsuri scrambled to the bed unsure what to do herself, she opened the box and started frantically tossing everything onto the bed.

“It wasn’t as deep as I thought it was. Please stop throwing my supplies everywhere. I’ll be okay, I just need a few stitches.” Shinobu tried to soothe Mitsuri’s nerves with a smile. “Can you do something for me, Mitsuri?”

“Of course, anything! Do you need a blood transfusion? Take mine!”

“Though I admire your heart sweet girl, I don’t know if our blood types are compatible, nor do I need blood at this point. I have a lot of supplies here, but what I really need is a good antiseptic. Make sure the Doctor brings me some?”

“I don’t want to leave you…” Mitsuri was torn, surely Doctor Tamayo would bring such things with her without being told.

“I’ll be alright, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” Shinobu ran her fingers down Mitsuri’s cheek, knowing the girl responded best to gentle touches.

“Okay,” Mitsuri nodded, “I’ll be so quick, you won’t even know I was gone!”

“Be careful, have her check your head. You might need stitches too.”

Mitsuri was already out of the door and halfway down the hall before Shinobu could finish speaking. Shinobu took in a shaky breath. She’d have to finish this quickly before Mitsuri came back. She unbuttoned her shirt and shrugged it off her shoulders, tossing it into the pile. Then she cut through her binder with scissors from her medical kit. With teeth bared, she peeled it away from her bloodied skin. The wound was below her left collarbone near her heart. Luckily, she had been wearing several layers as the weather grew colder. She shivered, taking out her own antiseptic, dampening a cloth, she pressed it to the wound.

“Shinobu!”

No

Mitsuri was frazzled running through the halls she needed to find Doctor Tamayo and make sure she brought… what did Shinobu ask for again? Damn it! Mitsuri ran back to her chambers twice as fast, calling Shinobu’s name.

“What did you say you neeee— breasts!” Mitsuri’s mouth nearly dropped to the floor. Shinobu tried fruitlessly to cover up, but it was obviously too late. Mitsuri just kept opening and closing her mouth, intermittently gesturing towards Shinobu’s chest, now hidden away behind a blanket.

“Mitsuri, I can explain,”

“Are… Are you a woman, Shinobu?” Mitsuri crawled into the bed, stopping just in front of Shinobu, her forehead wrinkled as the cogs turned in her brain.

Shinobu pursed her lips and nodded her head. She tried to turn away, unwilling to watch Mitsuri’s reaction. However, Mitsuri reached out and caught her cheek, keeping her in place.

“This is what you’ve been hiding; what you have been so worried about.” Mitsuri deduced. “You aren’t a Prince, you’re a Princess! Princess Shinobu! Wait, is your name Shinobu?”

“Yes. I was honest to you about everything except this.” Shinobu said, gesturing at herself sullenly, her breathing becoming more erratic as the fact that everything was out in the open now hit her.

“Hey, hey! Shinobu, breathe! It’s okay!” Mitsuri cooed, stroking Shinobu’s cheeks with her warm, strong hands. “Is it your wound? Does it hurt terribly?”

Shinobu released a watery chuckle, “You are unbelievable. Aren’t you upset?”

“At you? Heavens no Shinobu, of course not! Kaigaku on the other hand,” Mitsuri’s eyebrows furrowed deeply, “I hope father has a special place in the dungeons for him.”

There was a knock on the door and Shinobu jolted back, nearly hitting the back of her head on the headboard of the bed. Mitsuri was quick to soothe, pressing her forehead against Shinobu’s while whispering assurances.

“It’s okay, Doctor Tamayo can be trusted to be discreet. No one else has to know yet if you aren’t ready. You’re safe here with me. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise.” Mitsuri dragged her forehead to Shinobu’s temple, kissing her cheek before pulling away all together. “Will you trust me?”

Unable to find her words under the tightness in her throat, Shinobu nodded. Once again amazed by the extent of Mitsuri’s care for her, Prince or not.

Mitsuri slid off the bed and strode across the room, opening the door just as the concerned looking Doctor was poised to try the door knob.

“Princess!” Tamayo notes the young woman’s appearance with great care. “How is the Prince fairing? You look like you could use a stitch or two yourself.”

“I’ll be fine, help the… the Prince first, but um, Doctor Tamayo, you must keep what you see unrelated to the wound to yourself.”

“Whatever do you mean, Princess?” Tamayo asked, already moving around her to attend to Shinobu.

“Uhhh, you’ll know it when you see it…” Mitsuri laughed awkwardly, quickly moving back to sit on the bed beside Shinobu. She put an arm around her, pulling Shinobu’s head into her side, she stroked Shinobu’s hair to comfort her as Tamayo moved in.

“Oh,” Tamayo’s eyes spark with understanding as she drew back the blanket, “I see.” She cleared her throat, “You did well cleaning the wound, as expected from Kochou Royalty, lay back and I will stitch you up. I expect I’ll need no more than eight, maybe even less. You were very lucky the knife did not penetrate very deep Prince… Princess. I suspect you can handle the poison, or do you have an antidote you would allow me to administer?”

“The purple pill bottle, just one should be enough for my side effects. Thank you.” Shinobu said, her voice hoarse as Mitsuri helped her to lay flat on the bed.

“And thank you,” Tamayo said in kind, readying to suture the wound closed, “for protecting Princess Mitsuri.”

“She may not be a Prince, but she makes an incredibly heroic knight!” Mitsuri chimed in, grinning when Shinobu turned away from her, the red shell of her ear still very visible.

“Try not to stimulate her up too much, she needs to relax. Also, you may want to look away, Princess. I’m ready to close her up.” Tamayo warned, knowing very well that such things gave Mitsuri, as she herself put it, the heebie jeebies. “Perhaps, you should begin dabbing the blood from your face if you think you can handle it.”

“Right!” Mitsuri shuddered, “I’ll be in the bathroom, call if you need me Shinobu!” She squeezed Shinobu’s shoulder and darted into the bathroom.

Shinobu’s eyes stayed firmly on the bathroom door as Tamayo worked on her. Whatever local anesthetic the Doctor administered was expertly crafted as she hardly felt a thing at all.

“Only needed six,” Tamayo murmured with a positive lilt in her tone, “when it heals, the scar might not even be noticeable.”

“I appreciate that,” Shinobu said distractedly. “Could you check on Mitsuri, please.”

“Already on my way.” Tamayo smiled softly.

Tamayo helped Mitsuri finish cleaning her wound. She needed two sitches, but luckily didn’t have a concussion. She did, however, twist her ankle a bit and needed to keep it iced and elevated when she made it back to the bed beside Shinobu.

“I suspect your family will be banging down the doors before long, Princess,” Tamayo turned to face Shinobu, “Is there anything in particular I can get you to wear? Something not too tight on the chest?”

“A loose nightshirt I suppose,” Shinobu sighed tiredly, pointing at the one of the lower levels of the dresser, “if I keep the blanket over me as well, that should provide enough of a barrier.”

“Here, I’ll help!” Mitsuri took the shirt Tamayo found and helped Shinobu into it. She smoothed out the fabric and fussed over Shinobu’s hair. When she was pleased, she kissed the top of Shinobu’s head and lowered her back into the pillows, snuggling up beside her.

“We’re ready, thank you again, Doctor Tamayo!” Mitsuri said.

“Of course, Princess. Should either of you need anything, please don’t hesitate to summon me.” Tamayo packed away her supplies and bowed before taking her leave.

Not long after, the girls were woken abruptly from their dozing by a handful of loud voices and tromping feet making their way into their chambers.

“Mitsu!” King Kanroji cried, bursting through the bedroom door without knocking. “My baby girl, your poor head!”

“Don’t crowd them dear, remember what Doctor Tamayo said.” Queen Kanroji warned, though she also rushed in to pet her daughter’s hair.

“And you!” King Kanroji focused in on Shinobu, “You, my boy, I can’t thank you enough! You saved my daughter, I owe you my life.”

“I would do it all again, your majesty.” Shinobu quietly proclaimed. She was too tired to say much more. Mitsuri looked at her as if she would start crying again.

“I have sent word of what happened here today to your mother. Once it is safe to do so, your family will come to the castle to see you. With all the information we squeezed out of Kaigaku, that should happen sooner rather than later.” King Kanroji explained.

“Thank you.” Shinobu winced as one of Mitsuri’s siblings crawled over her legs.

“Father, although I am very happy to see you all, Shinobu and I are quite tired.” Mitsuri said, her tone gentle. She removed her sister from Shinobu’s knees and shot her an apologetic smile.

“Ah, yes,” King Kanroji cleared his throat, “I’ll have Suma send in dinner later. If you need anything, I have Kyoujirou posted outside your chambers until Tengen finishes getting information from Kaigaku.”

“Rest well darlings.” Queen Kanroji began corralling the rest of her children towards the door.

When the door finally closed, Shinobu relaxed, nearly falling asleep, she flinched when Mitsuri touched her shoulder.

“Sorry!” Mitsuri panicked, “Did that hurt?”

“No, just surprised me,” Shinobu turned towards Mitsuri, “What is it?”

“Ah, nothing really.” Mitsuri blushed. She had always been one to show her affection through touch more than anything else.

“Okay.”

Mitsuri thought that would be the end of that, but a little while later, Shinobu whispered,

“So, what does this mean for us now?”

“Hm? What does what mean?” Mitsuri blinked.

“You know I lied about being a man. What should we do about our marriage?” Shinobu asked. Although she didn’t really want to know, it was better to just rip the bandaid off now than wait.

“Hm? Isn’t it fine the way it is?”

“Is it? I’m a woman. You and your family didn’t exactly know that before agreeing to this. Don’t stay with me because you feel obligated after I—“

“Shinobu,” Mitsuri covered Shinobu’s mouth with her hand, “don’t you dare finish that sentence. Whether you are a man or a woman or not quite either, that is such a small thing, it hardly matters to me. I didn’t fall in love with you because I thought you were a man, I fell in love all the little things, everything that makes you, you!” Mitsuri leaned over Shinobu, faces inches apart, her eyes not hiding even an ounce of the love she held for the woman below her.

“I love how you play with my siblings. When you talk to your plants when you think no one is paying attention. How your nose wrinkles and your eyebrows furrow when you get grumpy. The way you hum to yourself when we go on walks. How you kiss my forehead and cover me with a blanket when you think I’ve fallen asleep on the chaise. The little smile you get when you’re about to say something clever and the glimmer in your eyes when you tease… I love it all, there is so much I haven’t even begun to cover yet.” Mitsuri slowly dragged her hand away from Shinobu’s lips, letting it linger in the space between Shinobu’s jaw and neck. Shinobu stared up at her, mesmerized.

“You said before, that if what you revealed to me does not change what I feel for you, then nothing would make you happier than to feel my lips upon yours,” her thumb brushed against Shinobu’s bottom lip, making her chest hitch, “may I make you happy, Princess Shinobu?”

“Please,” Shinobu whispered, already breathless.

Mitsuri needed no more assurance, finally closing the distance between them. Shinobu gradually weaved her fingers through Mitsuri’s hair, she had never felt so warm.

***

One month after that faithful afternoon, Muzan’s forces were eradicated and the man himself was killed in battle. Finally, the Kochou’s were on their way to see Shinobu again and celebrate the allied kingdoms victory over the tyrant Muzan.

Shinobu and Mitsuri had continued to be discreet about Shinobu’s gender during that time. However as victory became more certain, they discussed how to tell everyone. They decided it would be a surprise for everyone to do the reveal when Shinobu’s family was set to arrive.

“That looks so good on you!” Mitsuri admired, spinning around Shinobu to see every angle. “Do you like it?”

“Yes,” Shinobu smiled, smoothing down her skirts. “Though pants are still more practical, it’s nice to have the choice. I must say, I am rather nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous! Just imagine everyone’s faces when we walk down arm in arm in our beautiful dresses!”

“Gods, you are so cute. I can hardly stand it.” Shinobu said. She kissed Mitsuri’s cheek before crossing the room to retrieve her shoes.

A round of knocks mingled with Mitsuri’s elated squeals.

“Princess Mitsuri, Prince Shinobu, our guests of honor have arrived!” Kyoujirou yelled.

Mitsuri wiggled over to Shinobu and offered her hand.

“Ready for first blood?” Shinobu smirked.

Mitsuri laughed and nodded in reply before announcing to Kyoujirou that they were ready. They exited their chambers with wide grins, watching Kyoujirou gape at them for a solid ten seconds before releasing a good-natured, hearty laugh.

“What a surprise! I had no time idea! Right this way then!” Kyoujirou motioned for the couple to walk in front of him, chuckling jovially as they made their way to the stairs.

“Kochous, welcome!” King Kanroji welcomed with open arms. His wife at his side, tried to corral the youngest children who were running around the horses.

“Kanroji, a pleasure.” Queen Kochou greeted, though it was clear that something else was on her mind, “Where is my son?”

“He and Mitsuri should be coming out any second, attached at the hip those two.” Queen Kanroji answered warmly while picking up a wriggling child.

“That’s nice to hear.” King Consort Kochou smiled shyly, Kanae and Kanao looking restless at his sides.

“Ah, there is Kyoujirou. They can’t be too far behind.” King Kanroji said, directing everyone’s attention to the castle entrance.

“Now presenting, the royal couple! Princess Mitsuri Kanroji-Kochou and Princess Shinobu Kanroji-Kochou!” Kyoujirou’s voice commanded the space, a large smile clearly visible on his face at the surprised looks all around.

“Kyou, you had one job!” King Kanroji yelled looking utterly embarrassed, “Don’t emasculate the man in front of everyone he knoooooOOOOOOOAAAHHHH!?!??”

Mitsuri and Shinobu came into view, practically falling over each other as they laughed. The varied reactions across the lawn were priceless, but King Kanroji’s sputtering was the greatest of all.

Kanae was the quickest to recover, and ran over to Shinobu in a heartbeat, sweeping her little sister off the ground in a tight embrace and twirling her around.

“I told you it would all work out, didn’t I?” Kanae smiled, finally putting her sister down, but not letting her go.

“Then what are you crying for?” Shinobu scoffed, ignoring the tears that escaped her own eyes as she held Kanae just as tight,

“I haven’t gotten to see my baby sister in nearly half a year, of course I’m going to be emotional.”

“Hi Shinobu.” Kanao quietly made her presence known, looking down at her hands as she wrung them together.

Kanae pushed Shinobu at Kanao and started in on Mitsuri, hugging her tightly and officially welcoming her to the family.

“Hi Kanao,” Shinobu huffed, gathering her up in her arms, “I turn my back for a second and you decide to have a growth spurt. So unfair.”

“Sorry.” Kanao said, though she looked anything but, bending her knees to give Shinobu a little height on her.

“You pulled a fast one on me Kochou.” King Kanroji grumbled, though he watched the scene unfolding in front of him with soft eyes.

“Perhaps,” Queen Kochou smiled, watching her husband run into the fray to sweep Shinobu into his arms. Queen Kanroji and Mitsuri’s younger siblings had also joined in to become more acquainted. “But would you rather have had it any other way?”

“No, I suppose not.” He gestured for her to follow him, “Come on, give your son, er, daughter a hug. Or are you scared I’ll see you cry?”

“Hardly.” Queen Kochou chuckled, spreading her arms out wide to catch her middle child when she came soaring at her. “My brave little butterfly, I’ve missed you so.”

“I missed you too,” Shinobu said, “so much.”

“Alright, alright,” King Kanroji called, “let’s take this love fest inside, Suma will get cross if the food cools before we get there.” He watched Mitsuri link back up with Shinobu, greeting his greatest rival, now her mother-in-law, with nervous energy. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten you little miss. Conspirators the lot of you!” He said, only holding out for so long before chuckling along to Mitsuri and Shinobu’s giggles.

After a lively meal and an evening of games, the Kochous were shown to their guest rooms for the evening. When Kanae heard about Shinobu and Mitsuri’s shared chambers, she wiggled her eyebrows at Shinobu which earned her a hard punch to the shoulder. Mitsuri couldn’t help but grin upon seeing her wife’s flushed face and coaxed her into their room before she could bruise her sister any further.

“She is so annoying. I swear I didn’t miss her at all.” Shinobu grumbled, not convincing anyone that her ire was genuine.

“It’s the big sister’s job to tease. I would know.” Mitsuri said, tickling Shinobu’s sides before the shorter girl batted her hands away.

“Hmph, sympathizing with the enemy I see. Well then you can go take a bath by yourself tonight.” Shinobu stuck up her nose at Mitsuri and began walking to her old bedroom that she hadn’t personally slept within in weeks. Mitsuri latched onto her back before she could get too far.

“Nooo! Shinobu, don’t go!” Mitsuri pouted, nuzzling and peppering small kisses on the back of Shinobu’s neck until the grumpy girl caved in.

“Fine, fine,” Shinobu sighed, turning in Mitsuri’s arms. Mitsuri on the other hand, seemed more than happy to lavish the column of Shinobu’s neck with attention than to head to the bathroom to start filling the tub. “Mitsuri, the bath?” Shinobu tried halfheartedly to remind her.

“Maybe bed first?” Mitsuri asked coyly, her fingers fiddling with the back of Shinobu’s dress. Her head dipped further down to kiss the faint scar on her chest.

Shinobu rested her lips on the small scar near Mitsuri’s hairline in return, “I suppose I’m not against the idea.”

That was all Mitsuri needed to sweep Shinobu off of her feet. Her mouth occupied and her vision obscured, Mitsuri used her memory to navigate to their bedroom and revel in the love they shared.

[backjustforberena]

From all the small council meetings, what actions do you think rhaenys would hv made differently if she was in viserys position?

That's an interesting one and I haven't gone back and rewatched those early episodes, with the small council scenes, for a little bit so forgive me if I miss anything. My impression, on the whole, is that most of the concerns arising from those meetings are a direct result of Viserys being on the throne, so Rhaenys wouldn't have to deal with a lot of it because it just... wouldn't be an action she'd need to make. Rhaenyra would never be the heir. More than that, Daemon would never have been heir, and as most of the strife in the small council is due to him and his role in court and Viserys trying to placate him etc etc, with the City Watch... Rhaenys would never have encountered that if she sat the Iron Throne.

Viserys didn't particularly like confrontation. That is something that Rhaenys, at least, wouldn't shy away from. If the small council meetings are there to go through an agenda and see to the realm: good news or bad, then that is what they are for. The other issue that Viserys faced other than his succession, was the Stepstones. Now THAT would be interesting.

Corlys would be given latitude to give a full and thorough and pre-emptive report. I'm not sure that Rhaenys would instantly endorse whatever he was proposing at that time, if it could be styled as warmongering. But she would consider it, especially when men and ships start to be attacked. It is one thing for the Triarchy to slay pirates, but another to slay not just members of the Royal Navy but specifically those sailing under her husband's banners. Added to the threat to shipping lanes and the tolls they imposed, Rhaenys would be personally insulted. If the Free Cities endorsed this behaviour then they endorse acts that threaten her husband's house. Bad move.

I would say she would seek diplomatic communication with the Free Cities first, as Viserys did. But the diplomatic envoys would come with a threat, should it be needed, not just platitudes. Whilst the Seven Kingdoms have no quarrel, nor invite one, with the Free Cities, it will defend its own and route out the Crabfeeder if the Free Cities did not bring him to heel themselves. So, all in all, she would be stronger than Viserys.

When Corlys does go to the Stepstones, (if that conflict actually hadn't been avoided but Rhaenys's show of force and diplomatic effort), it will be with the blessing of the Crown.

Corlys and Rhaenys actually serving together on the Small Council is quite the fascinating dynamic actually. As she must not be seen to give favouritism, nor to be domestic or cowered by her lord husband. He must be seen to show her deference and not manipulation or to be seen as undermining her in any way either. Public, because the small council is public, disagreements would have to be tempered. But they can't give the impression that Corlys has been having backroom influence (ta, Steve!).

And if Corlys did decide to wage this war in the Stepstones, in this AU, he'd not just be going against his sovereign, he'd be going against (and leaving!!) his wife.

So the Stepstones could never go through what they go through in the show.

[travelling-on-the-octopath]

Excuse me if this doesn't make sense but like kinda had a thought that like. Dimitri and Ede\gard's relationships with Claude are so interesting with how they reflect back on all of their respective animals combining with their characters?

Cuz, like, Dimitri's a lion. Those things that tend to hunt deer - which is what Claude is. And the immediate thought is that a lion and a deer can't coexist; the deer would run, the lion would pounce, one or the other would give out. And that reflects how one would immediately think Dimitri and Claude's relationship would go down, since on the surface they seem so different. Dimitri's so earnest and sincere while Claude is so secretive and dishonest, you'd think they wouldn't be able to stand each other. But against all odds, they are incredibly close (to say how little time we get to see them together that is), to the point that the distrustful Claude who values his life quite highly will readily put it in Dimitri's hands because he trusts him that much. It's like watching a lion and a deer sleep against each other; it's strange!

And then Ede\gard is an eagle - another predator, yes, but not really for a deer. Theoretically, it might not be the most natural combination in the world or anything (as far as I know lmao), but it's not out of the realms of possibility that an eagle could mingle peacefully with a deer. And the same could be said about Ede\gard and Claude - yeah, they have their differences, but on the surface they seem similar enough that they would get along at least alright. But no - they can't stand each other. It can't ever happen, they're completely incompatible, Claude never trusts Ede\gard to rule over Fodlan justly and Ede\gard finds Claude to be a complete joke. It's like watching a deer and eagle trying to beat the shit out of each other; it's strange!

Because it goes against what someone would initially think so much, but in ways that are completely natural. Because of course Dimitri and Claude get along despite all of their differences; in the end they're both saps, they both hate violence, they both care so much for others (even if it's harder for Claude to express that than Dimitri, he still very much cares), they just have different ways they express that. And of course Ede\gard and Claude don't like each other; Ede\gard is what Claude avoids letting himself become, and to Ede\gard Claude is just a farce that all but bumble-fucked his way into a leadership position.

I dunno I just thought that was really interesting sorry for the long-ass ask outta nowhere ;w; ignore this if you want!!

Sorry I read the word "bumble-fucked" and I've been laughing for a couple minutes.

I'm damn-near convinced I manifested this ask last night because as I was busy doing something I thought "...Huh. Eagles are the only animals of the three houses that...DON'T live as a group." But you know what an eagle will do, at least a bald eagle?

They feed off a carcass that’s been killed via other means. And I’m not SAYING that EdeIgard (censored, and will continue to be) profits off the destruction caused by her allies, or other predators in this case, but . . . that is actually exactly what I’m saying. Because she does. An eagle doesn’t have the power to overwhelm a deer to the point of it becoming dinner, and EdeIgard doesn’t have the power (on her own) to wage war on the land of the deer. 

Or, frankly, the land of the lions. 

When @dmicld answered my ask about the different houses, and they said that if Byleth weren’t a factor, the Lions would have won all the class battles . . . I got to thinking. We know that a war without Byleth becomes a stalemate (thank you Claude for stopping the self-inflicted destruction of Fódlan). However, aside from Crimson FIower, it’s also a war with only two of its true leaders in their proper seats. We know how Dimitri’s kingdom reacts when he returned to lead them; if we’re fitting to the theme where, when he goes all Lion King and sits atop Pride Rock (insert gay joke here?) to the cheer of his many many animal friends. The kingdom he’s meant to watch over, everything the light touches (which explains Shambhala I guess lol), all that good shit. All that to say: A culture founded on the idea of fighting for the life they want, based on an animal that lives (and arguably prospers) in groups, when galvanized under the return of their long-lost prince . . . Yeah the army that rises up out of that is far more likely to walk away victorious than the army that’s forced to fight. 

And, from what I can recall at least, the Empire is the only power here that conscripts its citizens, which I think absolutely feeds into what you said about Claude refusing to let himself becomes like EdeIgard (because, unlike Dimitri, who is just so fundamentally different from her that not even at his worst are they similar, Claude could absolutely become just as bad, if not worse, than EdeIgard, if only because he has a whole other continent/country to pull power resources from, should he have ascended the throne, and a whole other mindset that’s cultivated from a different ruthlessness than the one EdeIgard has made for herself). A deer is worried first and foremost for their survival; while they’re not intelligent--somewhere between cows and dogs, according to Google--they’re an intrinsic part of their surroundings. They know how to save their own hide. They don’t take particular advantage of others. Which isn’t to say that I’m an eagle-hater; you do what you gotta do to live.

When you extrapolate that behaviour onto our dear lords, however, and you realize that the cruel underhandedness that makes EdeIgard who she is as a leader (and, frankly, person) is not something Claude could ever get behind, you realize that there’s much more of a disconnect than there could ever be between our deer and lion.

Because I've been in this hell for Far Too Long, I was actually curious to see what the dynamic between a deer (western hemisphere) and lion (eastern hemisphere) is, if only because they don't occupy the same ecosystems--and then I found something that tickles my brain even more: every variation of a lion and deer that exist together are prey and predator respectively. Mountain lions? Primarily eat the deer we see used as the Deer's symbol, AKA the Western ones. African lions? Make tasty snacks out of Grant's gazelles. Asiatic lions? Chital are very, very appealing to them. 

(Fun-ish fact, but apparently chital, AKA axis deer, and gazelles are considered the more intelligent deer-adjacent species . . . and they’re the ones to be hunted by lions as we know them in Three Houses. So that’s Interesting.)

So, you know, not to be a deranged Dimiclauder at 10:30 in the morning, but the real-world hands of fate are telling me that there is no world wherein the quick-footed, spindly-limbed prey is spared from the prowling, sharp-toothed predator. They’re destined to dance a dance of death and danger. (WOW that’s quite the alliteration.)

And yet . . . Dimitri and Claude are the only lords seen speaking with each other in White Clouds. They don’t waste time on bullshit when they face each other in combat. Their dialogue at Gronder to me feels the most honest, for all that it avoids . . . flirting(?) and outright violence. Despite that, though, it’s the most honest to me. Claude’s ticked that Dimitri’s all “I must have her head!” and Dimitri, despite his whole “I will cut down anything in my path,” doesn’t even consider threatening Claude’s life; just tells him to get the hell out of the way. Claude pulls soldiers out of the way so Dimitri can pass. Dimitri departs from a recently won Fhirdiad because he wants to save Claude. They do put a lot of faith in each other, despite the fact that the Alliance could have stabbed the Kingdom in the back while they were marching on Myrddin; despite the fact that Faerghus could have bled Leicester dry and turned them into a husk for the Faerghan war efforts once they agreed to fold back in (because the people of Leicester are going to take a while to, if they’ll ever, feel Faerghan). This pair of natural prey and predator work together to make sure neither is broken or gouged out by the opportunistic aerial killer.

And it’s not even because they don’t act in accordance with their respective animals. Dimitri is stalwart, protective, absurdly strong; Claude never sticks around long enough to allow himself to be slain, he’s stupid-smart, a little bit starry-eyed (doe-eyed? but not quite seeing as he’s not Innocent) when it comes to shaping the world like clay into a place that doesn’t hate him (or anyone else) for existing. You’re absolutely right; they should hate each other. At least a deer is never antagonized by an eagle; at least a lion never fears for its life, because what could an eagle do to it? 

But they don’t. They bend the rules of the world and they work together. Claude promises to come back to the place that came a little too close to chasing him out. Dimitri finishes the war they fought together, his army wielding a bow that looks . . . a little like antlers, I think.

They do anything but abide by the rules the world has set out for them, and that is mighty neat. 

[arthur-rex]

Continued from [ here ] shireentheunburnt:

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she dipped her head in gratitude, and followed Arthur to the royal tent. She was careful to avoid patches of mud and any puddles that had formed, mindful of her dress. The young girl knew that, often, ladies were careless with their clothing, to the inconvenience of their maids when it came to washing them. She tried, where more expensive and harder to maintain dresses were concerned at least, to keep them in good condition. Old slips that she was less concerned with, uncaring whether they were ruined or remained stained, she was more daring in from time to time…

The princess smiled softly to see the Queen had not sequestered herself away inside the temporary moving home, guessing where Guinevere was as her heart warmed at the thought. Truly, a queen to her people in a way many royals of Westeros could have learned from. The people of Camelot were lucky, and Shireen was glad of it.

What good is a king or queen if they didn’t care for their people? None at all. A kingdom or a child? Neither, and both. Unite the kingdom to protect the children. All of them.

Taking the offered chair with a smile that, as always, held a touch of sadness in its corner, the child thanked the king warmly. Waiting for Arthur to settle as well, the girl then began to speak. “I’m just relieved that the people of Camelot are able to defend themselves, and keep each other safe, Your Grace.”

Shireen hesitated, gaze falling to the charred stag resting in her lap. “I suppose… it is merely old fears rising up in me. I just wanted to warn you, and Queen Guinevere, to be… careful. I know the situations are different, I do, but the last time I came close to this threat… there was a woman preaching that only sacrifice, particularly of those with what she called ‘king’s blood’ would be necessary to end the White Walkers and the darkness their leader seeks to bring. I don’t believe that’s true- I think the unification of good people will be more than enough- but there still might be those that do. I hope… that no one like the red woman is here, with her evil stories; I don’t think there is, but…”

She sighed, aware that she was close to descending into rambling. “I felt it would be remiss of me not to say anything, even though I know my fears are likely unfounded. I don’t want you or the Queen to come to harm, Your Grace, through cruel superstition and half-baked prophecies.”

Settling in his chair, Arthur listens without interrupting the young Baratheon. Back in Camelot, when the Princess Shireen had first approached the King and Queen, many had been quick to dismiss the girl claiming royalty from lands further afield than that of the Five Kingdoms. Her warnings of strange, apocalyptic dead armies had not got down well in court. Dragons and dark magic of course were not foes unfamiliar to Camelot. No one who’d suffered through the wars waged within Albion wanted to hear now of ice-cold walking undead that could steal the souls of those they wanted for power. 

Derision accompanied Shireen’s petition to have the King muster his armies to fight off a common foe.

But Arthur and Guinevere had listened to her. Despite their elevated status, neither of the royals had lost touch with their roots to the concerns of the laymen or traveller, both. Gwen was a Queen of the people, having been born as one of them. Arthur meanwhile followed his heart, always.

And since that first meeting many of the things Shireen had warned them about had come true. First Annis was attacked, then Odin, then Alined… eventually the rulers of all the Five Kingdoms came to Arthur and Guinevere, seeking the protection of Camelot’s armies and her legendary knights, for they were blessed with the magic from the Court Sorcerer. 

Merlin’s early victory against the White Walkers with his dragons, when the Night King inevitably invaded the borders of Camelot, had been the start of the turn of the tide. 

The decision to elect Arthur as the High King had been taken almost unanimously after that. The power of knight and magic combined could no longer be denied. 

Arthur sighs. It displeased him on some level, that war against a greater foe had been the reason for ultimately uniting the Five Kingdoms. The golden-haired royal might once have thought that desire for peace and mutual prosperity alone was enough to bring warring kingdoms together, but alas. Some men needed the threat of violence to force their hand. Which Arthur found distasteful, despite being widely-renown as a warrior.

As Shireen finishes talking, Arthur shakes his head gently. 

“Sacrificing my life for the people is something I will do, princess, if it means the innocent may live safe and secure another day. But such a spilling of blood will be done on the battlefield, not in some arcane ritual.”

Reaching over to the little table beside them, he pours Shireen and himself a glass of water. Offering her a cup, his eyes soften at her mention of wanting him and the Queen to also remain safe. Such a caring young woman, it is no wonder Shireen got on so well with Guinevere. Should they all survive the upcoming battle, Arthur has a mind to have the princess formally recognised as a lady within the court. If she wished to remain in Camelot that is. 

Sipping from his own cup, Arthur’s gaze wanders for a moment, thinking of the past and the future.

“Prophecies… I have heard my share of them. If you wanted to debate the merits of such, perhaps you should be talking to Merlin? He holds a lot of faith in such things.”

A wry smile twists Arthur’s mouth. “He is no Lord of Light, but the Court Sorcerer does command fire as well as any of his dragons. I trust in him and in his abilities. I do not think he would push for any ritual sacrifice to the pagan gods for our victory tomorrow. Like you, like me - Merlin believes in the goodness of people. Your ‘red woman’ would not be welcome here, demanding sacrifice to selfish deities.”

Looking down at the charred stag that Shireen liked to carry with her, the High King pauses. Arthur knows a little of the princess’ personal history, although it is likely that she has shared more of her past with Gwen. In either case, he is aware that the young Baratheon’s childhood has been harder than most, and her parents had not been there to protect and care for her as they should. Arthur could relate to that.

“Is there more you wanted to share with me, Shireen?” 

He looks at her carefully, soft with his words. If the battle should go ill, this is likely the last chance they will have to speak with one another. 

[pomegranates-and-blood]

What makes a monster

My Masterlist  

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Summary: This is my entry for @youbloodymadgenius‘ 1k Followers Celebration, with the prompt “Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.”

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Fluff, angst, mentions of war, blood, and death (and a passing description of it, nothing too graphic), descriptions of injury.

A/N: I had a lot of fun with this prompt, though whether or not this is any good remains to be decided. I sincerely hope this makes some sense lol

Thank you for the chance to participate in this!! Congratulations again!!

Ivar taught you many things, in the time that has passed since he made you his wife.

He taught you to play chess. You could never beat him.

Not until you found a way to distract him, to get close enough to make his heart quicken, to touch him just right to make his eyes drawn to you and not the board.

It was easy to take over the board when he was distracted, when words of love poured from his lips like spells, when his eyes -open and maddeningly in love- focused on you instead of the move you’d made.

Ivar taught you how to get his heart.

____

The sword trembles in your grasp, a myriad of emotions swirling inside you and stealing the steadiness of your hand.

The woman guides you into exchanging the weapon, tells you which words to repeat.

You give him your father’s sword, and at the sight of his smile you offer the same, and your lips form the three words that make his smile wider, softer.

The woman finishes speaking, and you don’t hear the words, too trapped in this moment, but you know what they mean, you know what has changed, you know what just started.

The ring on his finger is cold against your skin when Ivar cups your face and brings you close to him for a kiss that steals your breath and your every thought.

His other hand grips at your waist, and you pull away from his lips.

“Ivar!” You chastise lowly, a small delighted laugh leaving your lips. Your own hand grips at his forearm, careful to keep him upright now that he has exchanged holding onto the crutch for holding onto you.

He only smiles, a light and enamored chuckle leaving his lips as he tilts your head to him again, and kisses you passionately as the people around you cheer.

“I love you.” He promises against your lips, before claiming your mouth again. You kiss him back, with all the emotion you can muster.

When he parts one final time, brow pressed against yours and eyes shinning and light and happy as he looks at you; there’s nothing that could keep you from returning that smile, from bestowing the gentlest of touches on the side of his face, tracing the contour of his wide smile.

“My wife.” He calls out, lowly, a whisper, a secret.

“My husband,” You return, and a promise of your own, “I love you.”

You sit up on the bed, but no matter how slight you try to keep your movements, Ivar still mumbles something that sounds quite close to your name, hand stretched in search for you even as he continues to sleep.

And to the silent command that you return to him you give in, and put your hand over his, and take a moment to let your fingertips trace over the ring on his finger.

There’s two completely different men making up the one you married, and you have known that for a while.

A side of him that takes your hand roughly in his and makes you stand at his side even as the gore and blood of the last result of his rage still stains him and the room around you.

And a side of him that offers disbelieving eyes and trembles at the softest of your touches, that whispers your name like a prayer before a dream that threatens to shatter.

Whenever you are together in public, Ivar always finds a way to be touching you. To anyone else, anyone that didn’t know him the way you do, the gestures would be insignificant, would be thoughtless.

Nothing in the way Ivar behaves when he is surrounded by people is thoughtless, none of the ways he moves his body are insignificant.

And the weight of his arm around you, or the comforting grip of his hand on yours, or even the slightest of touches of his lips over your skin; mean something to you, something you couldn’t even begin to put words to.

And that change that takes over him, that softening of his features at the sight of you, that lowering of his guard when you are near, that release of tension when you touch him; it is only accentuated when you are alone.

When you are alone, side by side on the bed you share, secrets spill from his lips as easily as moans, and his eyes never cease to look at you like you remain something out of a dream.

With the months that follow your wedding, you banish the side of him that is made of jagged edges and cruelty and biting coldness from ever entering the room you share. And he remains, he always will -and you wouldn’t feel for him what you do if it weren’t so- made out of two sides of him, but you lay claim to one, the same way you lay claim to his heart.

Your heart beats quickly in your chest, and the shadows envelop you but you still fear, you still jump at every step and every voice.

Because these people know your face, these people know the way you walk, know what your body looks like. No cloak, no hood, no lowered gaze will help you hide.

Which is why you need the shadows. Which is why the darkness of the forest ahead is comforting.

Which is why when the shouted commands reach your ears, and out they go like hounds searching for Kattegat’s Queen, you run for the comfort of the darkness.

“I am sorry,” He starts one night, startling you from your lazy exploration of the lines of ink on his chest. You lift your head to find pale blue eyes focused intently on you, searching your gaze with a blend of pain and devotion that tugs your heart in two different directions. Ivar swallows, and continues, “For what I do, for…for what I did.”

His hand reaches to take the one that was wandering on his chest, and Ivar holds on tight to it.

You look into his eyes and say, “You have done nothing but make me happy.”

His expression falters, as if for a moment he wants to believe you, but with a furrow that trembles on his brows he insists, “I did many things wrong, when it came to you.”

But you shake your head, “You owe me no apologies. It is in the past.”

“The Gods…uh, they…they have never given much to me, not without…” He stops, licks his lips, avoids your gaze. You watch in silence, hanging onto the words that are yet to leave his lips, “Not without taking just as much. I…I had my father treat me like he did my brothers and…and I lost him, then I came back and I lost my mother, my home,” He frowns, and his hand tightens on yours. The anger that accompanies the grief, that always will. Ivar continues, “I…I was one more among my brothers, even Björn had to listen to me and I-…Sigurd made me kill him, and they hated me for it, I lost him, and I lost them too.”

“Ivar…” The word is hoarse as it leaves your lips, but you don’t know what to say, what to do.

“Now I have you, and I…I love you,” Each time he says it there’s a fragility in the three words, there’s a fear in the admission that some days is louder than others. Today is the loudest. “I am happy, with you, and I…”

His words die with what feels like a dying breath leaving his lips, and you offer the only words you can.

“You won’t lose me.”

You never wanted to fight, you never bothered learning. But you know about hiding.

You wait for the man to run past where you are, measure your breathing as you watch him turn his back to you. Your grip on the heavy log is tight, and you pray for strength before you move.

He grunts when you hit his legs, making him fall on the ground. Startled eyes look up at you before you bring the log down again, the scream this time shrill and echoing over the dark forest.

His leg bends wrong at the knee now, and the man pants and keens in pain, but you kneel next to him, and make him listen to you with frantic eyes.

“Go back where you came from, I am not going with you. Tell Ivar…tell Ivar I’m going home, tell him there’s no other way.”

You leave him there, darting for the comfort of the woods with your mind set on the next stage.

On the docks of the small fishing town neighboring Kattegat a ship awaits, Ribe’s flag on it, welcoming you back.

You board it, feeling eyes on you, as if Ivar could see all the way from the place he made you call home what you are doing. The ghost of who still lives, the ghost that haunts you with the burden of what you have betrayed.

You leave him behind, but he follows.

____

Ivar taught you many things, in the time that has passed since he invaded a kingdom and forced you to be at his side.

He taught you to wage war. You could never beat him.

Not until you found a way to get his focus on you, to make him face across a battlefield the eyes of one that promised him love and forever, to grip his heart tight enough in your fist that even across the board where warriors become pawns you see his pain.

It was easy to win each battle when he was distracted, when pain and grief left his lips like blood from a fatal wound, when his eyes -betrayed and still maddeningly in love- focused on you instead of the move you’d made.

Because Ivar taught you how to get his heart.

____

Ribe greets you with a feast and a sacrifice of which you still bear the blood of.

“We have word from across the sea. Kattegat is weakened. Once the King falls, we will be able to take over.” Your mother states, and you nod, swirling the drink in your cup and keeping your eyes on your brother, who seems to cling to her every word, just like when you were children.

“But Ivar the Boneless lives.” A shieldmaiden argues, scarred face frowning at her plate.

“Not for long,” The once Queen consort of Ribe states, spine straightened when she looks at you. You lift your eyebrows, but wait for your mother to speak. “I taught you better than to fail.”

“I haven’t failed. I lured him here, I weakened his army,” You snarl back, not caring for the sudden stillness in the room as mother and daughter face one another. After a breath, you motion with your head and insist, “What is the plan, when they land here? When his army is at our door?”

She sighs, “Your brother-…”

“My brother is too much of a coward to lead his own men into battle, I know,” You silence Emil’s complaint with a gesture of your hand, and your brother obediently stays silent. Turning your gaze to your mother, you insist, “And you were never a good Queen, mother, our men won’t follow you. So, tell me, who will lead them?”

“You,” She doesn’t miss a beat, always so certain the ground will be solid under her feet. You admire that, more than you could ever admit. She lifts a cup your way, “You were the one to return when they believed you had died. If our army is to listen to any of the people of our blood, it is you.”

“You’re making a mistake,” You warn her, but she is certain. You accept her words with a shrug, but one last time you offer, “This mistake will cost you, mother.”

____

Your mother taught you many things, ever since you were old enough to understand the ways of the world.

She taught you to betray. To be a lie in a world of men.

And a lie would know to put on a smile and to summon softness to her gaze, a lie would be able to whisper empty promises of devotion, a lie would do whatever it took to keep the lie alive.

A lie would survive, in a world of men. A world of monsters with the pleading blue eyes of someone a better woman could love, a world of beasts that are soothed at the vow of love sealed over hungry lips.

Your mother taught you to betray it all in the name of love.

____

The King of Kattegat limps away from the body as if it were nothing, turning to your mother and faking a bow with his free hand.

“The Princess is coming with me to Kattegat, or I raze this kingdom to ash. Your choice, Dane.”

When he leaves, the carefully held breaths in the room seem to stutter past all your lips, and your hand falls slowly from your mouth, no longer trying to keep at bay a scream you didn’t let out anyways.

“F-Father…” You whimper, and distantly you hear voices, you hear sounds. But you cannot take your eyes off of the lifeless ones of your father, who lays on the floor of his own throne room with a knife deep in his chest.

Your mother’s hands are trembling as she holds your face and makes you look into her tear-filled eyes. You can still hear her scream in your head, the shrill keen of a woman that saw the man she loved be killed in front of her.

“We have to kill him,” You whisper, and you wonder dazedly if it isn’t her hands that tremble, but the whole of you. “We have to make him pay. Mother-…”

“We will,” She vows, and her voice doesn’t waver, her resolve doesn’t crumble even if she does. “Remember what I told you? You keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.”

Realization dawns on you, and you start shaking your head. Please, Gods…

“No, n-no, don’t make me do this,” You beg, and you feel your shoulders rise and fall but no breath enters your lungs. You refuse to honor a deal your father made when the man he made the deal with still has his blood warm on his hands. “Mother, please, I can’t-…don’t-…”

“You will be his wife. It is as arranged,” She snarls, her hands on the sides of your face shaking you slightly. “You will take your father’s sword with you, and you will give it to Ivar the Boneless, and you will bear his ring in exchange.”

The men that mere months ago bowed their heads to you now look you over with distrust; the word -the title- that they once echoed respectfully is now a sneer as you walk them by.

Hvitserk looks at you like you saw him look at his enemies across a battlefield, unbridled rage and nothing but hate in a once-warm gaze. You still offer a smile as you pass him by, as you walk into Ivar’s tent.

“Do you have to…to leave so soon? We’ve barely been married a fortnight, Ivar.”

Your smile is soft when he turns to you, and you know he only sees love shining in your eyes.

“Will you miss me?” He teases, but there’s truth behind the question, there’s longing and the need to be reassured of love behind that practiced smile.

You lift your hand to his face, a teasing yet gentle push of your finger to his temple, before you cup his cheek and delight yourself in the way armor crumbles to dust at your touch.

“What kind of question is that?” You insist, shaking your head, pretend-fondness on your voice.

He turns back to his brother, promises the attack on Ribe will happen soon, that the Danes will be theirs. But, he acquiesces with a soft squeeze of your hand on his, after the winter has passed.

And it dawns on you that with but a touch you’ve bought them more time, almost a year.

Later that night you lay on his chest, tracing absently the ink marks on it, wondering if he notices how your touch lingers on the skin over his heart. Wondering if he would be naïve enough to believe it a gesture of love.

When you married him, when you followed your mother’s orders and set not to be devoured by the monster that ruled Kattegat, but to satiate his hunger for long enough that you could escape; you were startled by the…rawness of him.

The anger always too-quick to flare, the easily infuriated gaze of a man that revels in death, the bare truth of a monster made out of jagged edges and blades that broke as soon as they pierced the skin. That didn’t surprise you.

But the vulnerability that seemed to startle him as much as you, the secrets spilling from his lips with pale eyes looking up at you expecting answers, the bloodied hands that offered you a battered and cold heart with the unwavering trust that you’d keep it safe. That did surprise you.

It also surprised you how easily you made him believe you loved him. How easily you got his heart.

And when his hand grasps yours, stops your aimless wandering over his chest, you smile up at him, warmth in your chest.

What a terrible thing, what a dangerous thing, to crave love.

You walk out of that tent alive, something no one with a sound mind would believe. No enemy of Ivar the Boneless survives him, much less one that dared betray him.

But you do. And past the disdain, past the disgust, now in the army that surrounds you in this place they have decided to set camp in; there’s surprise, there’s fear.

Something, a question, a seed of doubt, shines in Hvitserk’s eyes when he sees you again, and once again you offer only a smile.

Your feet are bare on the cold ground, and you peer out the small opening into the cold world around you. You don’t have much time left.

Your heart trembles in your chest as you walk back to the bed, sitting down and hearing the soft rustling of Ivar moving at your back. His hand, almost by instinct, almost by heart, finds your leg, and he moves closer, a sleepy hum leaving his lips.

His voice, roughened by sleep and something else, calls out your name.

“I’m here, love.” You tell him quietly, a promise.

Your thoughts linger on the last word, though. Love.

You grew up hearing the stories of how love turned Gods into mere men, and made men believe themselves to be Gods. There was always a part of you drawn to those tales of how love made the worst of monsters human again.

They don’t talk about the other way around, though, you think to yourself as your fingertips dance over the ring on Ivar’s finger.

About how love makes monsters out of humans.

And, terrifyingly enough, it is not in the absence of love, or the loss of it. No, just in its existence, something as pure, as selfless, as vital as love can make a monster.

You close your eyes and you can see that horizon that is so familiar yet so strange, so wrong, and as Ivar sits behind you, hand loving even if threatening at your throat, lips reverent and fervent against the skin of your neck; you feel truth pour from your lips.

“My mother, she…she taught me to lie. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, she’d say.”

“Hm. And who is your enemy?”

Your mind lingers on that horizon, on the distant monsters that walk those streets you so loathe. And you have your answer.

You walk through familiar doors again, and Ribe’s people, Ribe’s warriors, greet you warmly.

You walk up to your mother, who stands by Emil where he sits on his throne, always the voice in his ear. Her eyes are cold when she gazes at you, but there’s the beginning of a smile on her lips.

You bow your head, a show of deference, before you tell her, “Ivar has agreed to a cease fire. He will be here come dawn to…negotiate.”

Once, he would have been a welcome sight in Ribe, when your father let a King from Norway ally himself with Danes, when your family rejoiced at the prospect of having the Princess of Ribe marrying a son of Ragnar. But with his arrival came war, and death; not the peace and allegiance your father was promised.

Last time Ivar the Boneless and the King of Ribe negotiated, your father ended up with a knife in his heart.

There’s hunger in her expression, a hunger you only saw once before. When she wiped your father’s blood from your face and whispered keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, when she turned you into something worse than a monster and told you to kill one.

And dawn comes, and death follows.

____

Your mother taught you many things, ever since you were hungry enough to understand ambition.

She taught you to betray. To be a lie in a world of men.

And a lie would know when to bow her head and fake deference, a lie would be able to weave tales of victory to those underserving, a lie would do whatever it took to keep him alive.

A lie would survive, in a world of men. A world of monsters with blood that runs red from the throat slit on the undeserved throne he sat on, a world of beasts that pretended to have the bond of family run deeper than a bond before the Gods, and lie dead because of that mistake.

Because your mother taught you to betray it all in the name of love.

____

The blood stains your hands, your dress, the knife you still hold on to as you stand in that throne room, the evidence of your betrayal still dripping slowly to the wooden floor.

But you smile, and when you lift your gaze, you find the smile mirrored in familiar lips.

The knife clatters on the blood-soaked floor under your feet, and there’s a little bit of madness in the laugh that leaves your lips as you cross the space between you.

But, as your laugh dissolves against Ivar’s lips, you gather it doesn’t matter.

You close your eyes and surrender to his kiss, you let bloodied hands cup his face and bring him closer to you, and stave off the cold of so many months away from him with the warmth of having him back in your arms.

When you part, his brow presses against yours, and there’s shaky relief in the way he breathes out your name, there’s a heart that was threatened with breaking shining in pale blue eyes.

But there’s love in the way he makes love to you that night, and there’s love in the way your fingers dance over the ink traces of his chest again.

There’s love, and you do not dare ask what it made out of him, or what it made out of you.

____ ____ ____

I hope to have taken you by surprise, hopefully more than once lol

Idk if this is any good but it was fun to write, I hope you liked it, and thank you so much for reading!

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