#pink haired samurai is still alive and kicking... hell yeah....

[hauntingblue]

Oden's prophecy of young pirates coming to save wano becoming yamato's hope for his freedom.... and him becoming oden because of it.... it's just so good... on the other side luffy taking ace's spot for liberating yamato... I think I hauve covid

[yoolee]

Six Wins & A Draw | SLBP {Multiple}

A/N – small note if you missed Ieyasu/Mitsunari’s Draughts of Starlight, the Tale of Princess Kaguya is a story/myth and Nobunaga is not above making our MC play her for his entertainment. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE sort of WITH: Ieyasu, Toramatsu, Tadakatsu, Mitsunari, Mitsuhide, Hideyoshi aaaand a surprise.

Introduction

Umeko and Matsuko kept a few feet to the side.

You didn’t blame them, really. You could feel the heat of your anger acutely, making your skin feel dry and scorching, even as your hands remained furiously, absolutely still in your lap, and your eyes closed, though you felt the twitch of your right increase with every ring of the tourney swords. You could imagine that it was sufficiently sweltering in the immediate vicinity of your being to keep others back, and you also imagined, as the sweat from your brow dripped onto your smoldering, still fingers, that it sizzled.

Someday, you swore, Lord Nobunaga would find something other than offering bits of you up as a prize for the various collections of nonsense that kept him busy and entertained.

There were any number of other things he could have offered. 

A castle. 

Great sums of wealth or riches.

Rare treasures from far lands.  

Grand weapons or exquisite armor. 

A bloody horse for goodness sake. 

You know, useful sorts of things for warlords and samurai. He could have offered a plate of your best dishes and you would have participated with pride, and held your head high knowing their worth was equal to any suit of armor. Not that you didn’t have firm confidence in the value of what had been offered, but, it was one thing knowing your worth, it was another to have your liege equate it to prize, to be bought with the ring of swords and sting of blood brought forth in pantomime for his entertainment. You could imagine that as poorly as it sat with you, the retainers currently participating also would have rather hoped for a good horse.

You didn’t even know half of them.

(The ones you did know, it was almost embarrassing to admit, were participating as enthusiastically as though this were not the most absurd farce you or they had ever been forced to participate in)

You lifted your glare from your lap, and found it met with a slow, entertained smile from the Lord of Hell himself, and the fact that he seemed to know, that he had predicted when you would look up, almost shocked the anger out of you. It was unsettling, sometimes, how the seemingly foolish man knew things.

But—ooooh. No. You were not going to not be angry about this, and feeling livid, you stuck your tongue out at him.

Umeko gasped, and Matsuko’s hand darted out to shake your shoulder lightly with a warning hiss, “Hey! Cut that out!” But Nobunaga only laughed, and turned his attention back to the grounds, relaxing into a lazy sprawl. Matsuko was still continuing, even though you only half heard due to muttering obscenities in your head. Her voice was sympathetic, but firm. “You know he only does it to get a reaction out of you.”

Umeko, slightly more sympathetic and slightly less firm, murmured as well, “You…it’s just that you get so flustered?”

“Well who wouldn’t!” You snapped, and the anger dropped from boil to simmer, leaving something cold in your stomach, and your hands unfolded at last to catch your head as it fell to them. The maids were silent.  The crowd was not – a roaring cheer rose from the assembled men.

A winner, then.

So he liked to see you flustered. Stumbling and shy, nervously stuttering.

Fine.

You wouldn’t give it to him.

You were on your feet in an instant, ignoring the cries of surprise from your friends as you marched, livid and resolute, with your head held high, towards the last man standing…

Tadakatsu

At least you knew him. He was grinning, broad and bright as a child, when he turned to you. Sheathing his sword with a whoop of triumph, and seemingly oblivious to the storm stalking closer. Or perhaps he welcomed it. You’d never stood quite so close, and you had to tilt your head up to see him, “Hey I won!” He laughed, pleased as punch, and cupped his hands over his mouth to holler to the sidelines “LORD IEYASUUUUUUU! I WON FOR YOU!”

“Shut up, you insufferable chopstick.”

Tadakatsu beamed, and somehow his happiness only fueled your sulking belligerence, and you reached for him, hands on his collar in a way that had him remembering you were there, “So, I guess I get a kiss then! From the Princess Kag—mmf!”

You pulled him hard enough your noses smacked together, but you didn’t care, shoving your tongue against his with seething, searing strokes. He hummed in surprise, and it irritated you, and you bit and tasted copper, which shocked you into releasing him and stumbling back.

He stared at you, bringing his fingers to his lips. “You bit me.”

“Sorry!” You squeaked, oh, what had you done? You hadn’t meant to, you’d just been so—“Mmf!”

You were off the ground, cradled in his arms like a feather, and your lips were against his, seeking yours with joyful, reckless abandon. You squirmed, squeaking once more in shock and that only let his tongue dart inside, and you found that what heated your gut this time was something…very different than anger, and a slow surprised murmur escaped, “Oooh, I — ”

He pulled back, gray eyes bright and dancing, suggestion a purr that brushed your lips with the air used to form it, “Can I bite you?”

(go back to the top!)

Toramatsu

He was leaning on his sword, breathing heavily as he offered a hand to his fallen opponent. The other man waved it away, and Toramatsu turned, surprised, when you approached, cheeks flushing crimson as his eyes darted guiltily to the side. “I…listen, I’m sorry, you don’t have to—mmf!”

The sweetness you found in his surprised, parted lips soothed your fury somewhat, and the hands that had been reaching for him gentled almost lazily, crossing behind his neck with a sigh of delight. His lips were warm and soft against the heat of yours, gentle in their stunned stillness.

A sullen clang had him blinking—had he dropped his sword? Yes. Yes he had—and you felt the heat suddenly match yours, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling, and his tongue caught your cry of surprise, then darted against your lips, seeing entry that you offered willingly, and you weren’t angry, not at all, he had taken it from you, leaving you only to sigh sweetly into his sudden fervor.

“WOOHOOOOOO TORAMATSUUUUU!”

Your eyes flew open, and like startled children you both jumped back. Tadakatsu was whooping, waving his hands in triumph, and then everyone was, cheers bringing the heat back to your cheeks. It was on his, too, a slash of crimson as bright as his coat, and he looked jumpy as a kitten as he picked up his sword and sheathed it without looking in your direction. You stepped towards him, and he jumped back, then smiled, guiltily, meeting your puzzled glance with an even deeper blush before his eyes darted once more to the side, “Er…sorry.”

“No, don’t be—“

He lifted his head, and smiled, gently, and murmured, “Hey…thanks.”

Your feet were suddenly very, very interesting. “Well, you won. So…congratulations.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you two blithering idiots going to stand there like moronic statues after that sordid little display?”

“Lord Ieyasu—” Toramatsu sounded puzzled, but you decided he was not your lord, and he was not the winner, and beat a hasty retreat towards the kitchens. The prize had been dispensed, and you had dinner to make.

(go back to the top!)

Mitsunari

Oh hell.

The sight of the tall, straight back, made taller by the twin spikes rising like the ears of a fox from blue hair, did little to soothe the fire. Someone else to threaten and insult you how lovely. He was staring down at his opponent—Hideyoshi—like a wounded animal, betrayed by the one they loved most, and Hideyoshi only chuckled guiltily, murmuring, “Oops, well, gosh, that was clumsy of me.” The tone was almost singsongy, laced with barely-masked mischief, “Looks like you win, huh?”

A stiff, wounded protest died on Mitsunari’s lips as Nobunaga spoke from his seat, “And here’s our Princess Kaguya, to deliver you your kiss.”

He spun so quickly on his heel you could hear the air wheeze in surprise around him, and the unexpected sight of his eyes darting guiltily to the side, a sweep of faint pink on his cheeks almost cooled your anger. But then his gaze snapped back up, scowl in place. “As if I’d want that vile succubus’s mouth coming anywhere near mine!”

Oh look, there was your fury back again.

You grabbed the plate of armor across his chest and, vaguely remembering what Inuchiyo had drilled you in as soon as you were old enough to even consider boys, kicked a foot out in a sudden, firm sweep.

Perhaps only because he believed you incapable of it, it worked, and you caught him in a low, sweeping dip, or you tried to but, “Ugh, you’re heavy, Mitsunari.” You both hit the ground, you to your knees beside him and him on his back, as you leaned over, brushing your hair back behind your ear and trying to ignore how your hands shook. After a moment of shock, the crowd was suddenly alive with whistles and cheers.

He gaped, but then his lips came together in something like startled unease as your lowered your head to get this over with, and you felt the anger drain away, though you wondered at your sudden sympathy for someone who was never less than an absolute jerk about your existence. Still, the Lord of Fools you served wouldn’t be satisfied unless it was done. Your eyes closed, then opened, and you gave Mitsunari a swift, light peck on the cheek, a bare brush of your lips to his skin. To your surprise, he moved immediately, managing to swing himself into standing with surprising grace, hand clapped over the cheek you had kissed. “Hey—you—what are—how dare—!”

How dare he! “Shut up! Like I had a choice!” Your cheeks flushed, finger wagging in a scold at his ungrateful face as you surged to your feet as well, “Would you have rather I shoved my tongue down your throat?”

That shut him up, and the pink turned rose, deep and dark as a plum, and it made you blush.

Hideyoshi was still on the ground from his defeat, laughing silently and helplessly until a snort escaped in high-pitch. Neither or you nor Mitsunari would ever admit that the shout was completely simultaneous, “Shut up!”

(go back to the top!)

Ieyasu

He turned, a rustle of yellow and gold, and he was smiling, and if you weren’t so busy being malevolently resentful you would have been terrified, for all that it was beautiful. “Ah, our Princess Kaguya.” The soft voice was dripping with something insulting, like a sweet gone bad, and you found that it was, in fact, possible to get even more annoyed than you had been as you stopped, inches from him, and the mocking tone continued, “Thank you,” Your hands, with utter calm, reached, one for his neck, the other his golden collar, “But a kiss won’t be nec—mmf!”

You caught his cry of shock with your tongue, lapping it into yours as your hands yanked again, bringing him even closer, rising to your toes to meet him, and letting your left fingers release, than slip under his collar, nails raking across the cool skin and warm muscle, wet with the sweat earned in his fight. His lips were cool, too, for all that he had just been in battle, but the heat of your anger was consuming, and you let him bear it, pulling back only to thieve a scant breath before brushing against him once more, tongue darting against his once more for good measure. Your teeth closed, nipping lightly around his bottom lip, and pulled, before releasing.

There.

That should be sufficient.

You let go of his neck, pulled your other hand free from his clothing, and wiped the back of your mouth with a firm, quick nod before turning on your heel and marching back towards the buildings. You had dinner to make.

Tokugawa Ieyasu, notably, did not move.

(go back to the top!)

Hideyoshi

Some of the anger finally cooled with relief when the winner turned, and smiled gently over his shoulder. Surprise quickly took its place. It wasn’t like him. He didn’t win. Not because he couldn’t—obviously, given the present state of things—but, it was very like him to let others, at the last minute, claim the glory in his place. So why--? Your feet stopped at last, in front of him, and he chuckled at the confusion in your expression, sheathing his weapon and lifting a hand to ruffle your hair. “Hey don’t worry, okay? You don’t have to kiss me.”

He was giving you an out.

Grateful, you smiled, but you saw Nobunaga frown, behind him, and remembered your fury, and it darkened your brow into a scowl. Sure, it was nice to not have to kiss anyone, but it wasn’t satisfying. “No,” You found yourself murmuring, eyes still locked on the Lord of Hell’s, “No, kiss me Hideyoshi.”

“Um…?” He was still smiling, but there was something puzzled in it, and your eyes darted back to his, hands reaching for his shoulders.

“Please? Kiss me.” Oh, but, “And make it look like you mean it.”

His eyes darted upward, breath hissing in a whistle between his teeth, hands carefully not touching you, “Hey, c’mon I’m trying to be good here.”

Your hands tightened, slid, and pulled him down until your heads touched and you could whisper against his lips, as much a growl as it was request, “Don’t try.”

(go back to the top!)

Mitsuhide

He was guilty by association.

He turned to face you, expression as quietly calm as always, and almost apologetic, and you bristled. He did not get to look apologetic. He did not get to look calm when you felt like bursting. You could hear the pulse in your ears, a wave of heat drowning out the crowd save for one, smug, smooth command.

Nobunaga sounded delighted. “Well go on, then, claim your prize, Mitsuhide. There she is.” Your feet stopped in protest, and you stopped moving, though the anger made it feel as though you vibrated.

The man sighed, arms crossing before he responded, in a firm, even voice, “Lord Nobunaga, that is not fair to her.”

He grinned, “She agreed.”

You spluttered, “I did NOT!”

Mitsuhide was unruffled, ignoring your protest in favor of Nobunaga’s version in a way that had you seeing red even as he nonetheless insisted, “Be that is it may, I do not intend to claim—mmf!”

There were few things on the great expanse of Earth quite as satisfying as seeing surprise on Oda Nobunaga’s face, unless, perhaps one considered the softness of Akechi Mitsuhide’s lips while seeing smug smiles slide slack and stern ones rapidly warm beneath yours. He was warm, you noted with surprise, and hummed, pressing against the warmth for the surprise of it, having expected the skin to be cool as the man who wore it. He hissed and you pulled back, watching in fascination the wide variety of colors crossing his face as he formed soundless, meaningless words. You felt delightfully calm, your arms around him, lazy and content and smiled brightly, and with a sigh, went to release him, and return to your duties.

No amount of imagination could have prepared you for his hand catching yours before you left, the quick yank of your hips to his, and low, resigned oath the tumbled from his lips before they stole yours, searing heat and chaste shape warring with one another until the dual messages made you dizzy, ringing in your ears giving away at last to let the screaming cheers filter in.

Oh…oh shit. Released, your hands clapped to your cheeks, scorched and stretched, and Mitsuhide was calmly looking elsewhere, frown on his features as he took a deep, calming breathe before launching into a lecture aimed at the laughing devil who had arranged it all.

You didn’t hear a word of it.

(go back to the top!)

SURPRISE prob not tho

There wasn’t one.

Huh?

Seeing both men in the dust, panting and pained, unable to get up and continue, stumped you for a moment. You stood blankly in the center of the field, blinking repeatedly at the pair of them, until a low, happy laugh coiled around your gut and squeezed. You whirled, facing its source, smiling smugly at all of you. Nobunaga’s legs unfolded, and he walked over, peering with pleased amusement at the two fallen retainers.

“Well, Princess Kaguya, looks like your lips will have to be offered another day.”

Oh no.

No he didn’t.

No you would not.

You would not sit through this again.

You were dispensing this prize now, today, and never again so help you, gods.

And there was only one possible winner left, at the end of it all.

You threw yourself forward, and you both tumbled to the ground, though he caught you even as you caught his kiss, fingers clawed in the cloth of his chest like talons as you bit down, hard, catching the muffled protest with your tongue, and pressing more closely against him, raw and turbulent as the Hell he ruled. Some distant part of your brain that hadn’t gone temporarily insane was almost…surprised at the softness of his lips, when everything else about him was so sharp. Your hands relaxed a fraction, something in you softening, and then—“Ack! Ouch, Lord Nob—”

He stood, with you tossed carelessly over his shoulder like a sack, and the enormity of what you’d done washed over you like a bucket of cold water, silencing your protest utterly, and you brought your hands over your mouth in sheer horror. You could see Umeko and Matsuko, eyes wide and dark with shock, and Inuchiyo stuttering, and they were all growing distant as Nobunaga’s long stride took you back to the castle. Oooooh, you were gonna die. “Um—“ You squeaked, and he rolled his shoulder, tossing you forward, and you felt yourself fall only to be caught again, your arms scrambling around his shoulders as one of his supported your rear and the other shoved the door open.

“Silent, foolish girl.” Was he…?

He was.

Marveling, your hands lifted to his cheeks, and you grinned in ferocious triumph at the faint, pink tinge stretched across them, darkening with your gentle touch. There was no one to see but him when you smiled, catching your own lip playfully between your teeth before crowing in low, pleased delight, “I win.”

(that’s it!)

More of Lee’s rambles (or click the link in my profile description)