#the daimyo's daughter

[silentexplorer18]

Six: Unraveling

Word Count: 4,500+

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When you woke the following morning, all three shinobi were waiting outside of your room like watchdogs.  You could sense the tension in the air, and for a moment, the happy warmth that had burned in your chest all night began to fade.  Had they found out about you and Kakashi’s almost shared kiss?  Did they know?  Had he told them?  The fear dropped through your stomach like a stone, bumping and skittering along the notions of civility and regality that caged your chest like sharp wire.

“What is it?”  There was no point in beating around the bush.

Tetsu and Maki gave you polite smiles that did not meet their eyes, and Tetsu stepped forward to speak, ever the paradigm of charm.  “There is nothing to worry about, Princess.  Please, let’s begin your day.”

Rather than wait for you to turn down the hall, Tetsu and Maki took the lead, and Kakashi lagged behind, as though waiting to follow you.  You tried to catch his gaze, but Kakashi stubbornly evaded it.

Nausea bubbled in your gut.  Never, in all the time that the trio had graced the palace grounds, had you been sandwiched between them.  Never before had they demonstrated such an obvious circlet of protection, least of all with you wholly unaware of their motives.  And Kakashi couldn’t even look at you.  Had something happened?  Had you been seen on the outskirts of the forest?  Had Kakashi come clean about you?

The fear that you’d so determinedly tamped down before burst forth like the most insidious of volcanic eruptions.  The smoke clouded your judgment and choked you with your own confusion.  The memory of Kakashi’s hands on your skin flickered and burned like hot embers.  Maybe it had been a test.  Maybe they were checking to see whether or not you’d sleep with a strange man.  Maybe the idea of protection was an illusion.  Maybe Kakashi had been hired for the sole purpose of extracting your weaknesses and secrets, only to demolish them with an iron fist.

Maybe you truly were alone in this world.

There was no other reason that you could think of for his sudden shame around you.

☽☽☽⚜☾☾☾

But it wasn’t shame.  Kakashi could not meet your eyes for one reason alone: fear.  After being in the ANBU for so long, he assumed he had no fear left in him.  It had been trained away in battles, trimmed off like fat to lean muscle.  Yet, facing you in the morning made fear buzz through him like a sharp electric shock.

Would you regret the intimate conversations you’d had with him last night?  Would you hate him for the almost-kiss?  For the way his hands brushed against your skin, enraptured by the simplest of touches?  Would you hate him, as you had hated all the other men, for their interest in you?  Or would you hate him for not being able to act upon his interest any further?

He was trapped, and, either way, he feared the consequences of your displeasure.

So, he pretended there was nothing there, and he threw himself into work.  He’d scoped perimeters and set seals around the palace.  He’d learned the poison-neutralizing jutsu that Tetsu had performed.  Kakashi had done everything in his power to fix things.

But he could not fix the displeasure that you displayed as the day continued to progress.  Especially as Tetsu and Maki lead you from the bathing chambers to your father’s private study.  In fact, a wild look of alarm, dismay, and betrayal whirled across your features as you looked over your shoulder at him.  But there was no time for him to explain what was going on, nor time to ask you why you were so visibly upset.  There was only time to watch as Tetsu and Maki lead you into the lion’s den.

Seeing you kneel on the floor made him ache with guilt and the longing to rectify your almost certain discomfort.  However, he could do nothing besides watch as the Daimyo began to speak.

“Danger has befallen the palace, as you saw last night.  I do not know what enemies you have made in your foolishness,” he spat with a contemptuous glare, “but your idiocy must come to an end.  You will be kept under tight lock and key.  There will be no chances for you to turn the palace into chaos when there are attacks underway.”

“Yes, sir.”

Your obedience made Kakashi want to punch something.  Hard.  

“The shinobi will guide your movements.  Follow their leadership.”

You bowed your head again.  Kakashi’s toes scrunched in his sandals, and a beat of silence lapsed through the room before the Daimyo barked, “Dismissed.”

You rose with a grace and elegance Kakashi could hardly look away from, but your eyes were dull and tired.  Disappointed.  It made his chest ache.

☽☽☽⚜☾☾☾

But there was no way for you to know how deeply your suffering impacted his own.  So you moved with the dull grace that being in the Daimyo’s presence always necessitated.  You also avoided the shinobis’ stares, hoping that your eyes would not betray your dismay.  This was a life you never wanted.

In the hall, the men paused, watching you carefully.  “We do not want to hinder your activities any more than necessary,” Tetsu offered gently.  “Where would you like to go?”

The options were minimal, but you knew there was only one thing that would recenter your soul.  Tending to your injured plants would help you obtain the will to survive in this hell for a while longer.  It would help you feel less confined to the suffocating walls of the palace for a few moments of safety and solitude.

“I would like to go outside and garden, if that is permissible.”

The three shinobi shared a glance.  Kakashi and Tetsu seemed wary, but Maki was eager to allow you a semblance of freedom still.  “That should be fine!” he assured.

Tetsu stopped him with a swift elbow to his side.  “You are not the team leader,” he growled under his breath, smile still firmly affixed in an attempt to keep up a sense of false civility.

Maki merely whined, rubbing his side in dismay.  “We have no reason to expect further attacks during the day.  Surely we can let her outside.”

“I don’t see a problem with it,” Kakashi intervened, clearly sensing there would be no end to the dispute otherwise.  “But we should do a perimeter sweep first.  I can stay with the princess while you two…”

“Right!” Maki replied warmly.  Why he was so keen on you gardening, no one was quite sure.

Tetsu merely relented with another smile that failed to meet his eyes, and you felt discomfort brewing in your chest.

Sure, a perimeter sweep was likely necessary, but Kakashi had taken the opportunity to rid your company of the other two shinobi.  You were trapped with him.  And though it was unlikely he would do anything in the center of the palace, where guards or servants could rush by at any moment, you had no idea why he had wanted you trapped alone.

When you fixed your eyes upon him, he was already watching you. It did not dispel your unease.

But he was watching you with a warm expression—or warm from what you could tell given you were privy to such a small portion of his features.  It seemed he had captured you alone for a reason.  “What’s on your mind?”

That you are plotting to betray me.  That you are a secret swindler.  That you will destroy me and everything I love if given the chance.  That betrayal is imminent.  That my feelings for you will be my demise because you do not feel the same way.  There were a multitude of answers to choose from, none of which felt right.  You settled for: “Why did you lie for me?”

It was an easy place to start.  The night prior, he had lied to the Daimyo about the events that had transpired.  Perhaps his reasoning for doing so could quell your reservations about his motivations…

Yet, your query seemed to startle him.  He paused, straightening his shoulders in a way that made his uniform stand out against the ornate filigree of the palace walls that you’d known all your life.  “It’s my duty to protect you.”

And that’s all it was. Duty and nothing more.  You were a fool to think anything otherwise.

It took effort to keep your expression neutral, but Kakashi could see right through you.  He was watching you like a hawk the second your expression faltered, and he posed the next question immediately.  “Is there something wrong with that?”

“No.  Nothing at all.”  And, truthfully, there wasn’t.  Kakashi had done no wrong.  It was you and your foolish heart that had run astray.

“Then what—”

He wouldn’t drop it.  Not until he figured out the root of your issue.  It was better to come clean than drag such matters on.  “I thought we were friends, Kakashi.”

“Friends?”  He outright blanched at that, and, suddenly, you wished the earth would swallow you whole.  “This is… you’re a… This is a mission—”

“Forgive me,” you interrupted curtly, “for my err in judgment.”

Finality snapped through your voice, demanding an end to the conversation.  Yet, Kakashi still opened his mouth, shifting in a way that suggested he wanted to say more.

“You’re a princess,” he whispered.

The title stung.  After all the secret, whispered moments you’d shared, moments in which you’d bared your heart to him unquestioningly, he would put you on a pedestal for your ridiculous, untrue title?  How could he?  “I’m ordinary,” you hissed back, knowing that at any minute the shinobi would return, and you would have to feign friendship—something you now knew to be doubly untrue.

Kakashi stared at you with that one, visible eye, expression and voice almost somber.  “You could never be ordinary.”

Your heart clenched as he repeated the same line he’d used when you first met him.  All those weeks ago when the chaos had started felt like an eternity from now.  Yet, the divide between you and Kakashi still remained.  It appeared it always would.

☽☽☽⚜☾☾☾

As the group started off toward the palace gardens, Kakashi trailed behind the others.  Although he was always alert—always searching for hidden threats—there was something more pressing weighing on his mind.  He’d done something wrong.

How had you believed the two of you could be friends?  He was in no way deserving of that.  He was merely a shinobi.  Kakashi the friend killer.  He was not worthy of the companionship of a princess, even a false one.

He’d let his heart get the best of him, and it had ruined everything.  You’d completely closed yourself off.  He’d have to work doubly hard to communicate with you, to keep you safe.  No matter how much his heart beat against his chest whenever you looked his way, there was nothing to do but protect you in the best ways he knew how.  The mission had to come first.

☽☽☽⚜☾☾☾

Due to the length and complications of the preceding events, you reached the garden much later than usual.  The sun was already high in the sky, and it beat across your shoulders in a way that made sweat bead under the length of your dark dress.  Your fingers swelled with the heat, making the rings on your fingers ache from the additional pressure.

How you longed for the days when you could come out in the early mornings.  How you longed for the days prior when you and Kakashi had wordlessly worked on the garden together, sharing in a secret moment where your naivety could convince you he was truly a good person.  Oh, how things had changed.  You would have done anything to go back.

The shinobi at least had the decency to keep their distance.  They lurked around the perimeter of the garden, occasionally conversing in whispered words and muttered grumbles.  Although you tried not to pay too much attention to them, you couldn’t help noticing that Kakashi was as relaxed as ever.  Your disagreement—if it could even be called that—had hardly rattled him.  The connection between you had been seldom more than a one-sided flicker.  How foolish of you to have thought otherwise.

A formal lunch was served with a few select defense strategists late in the afternoon, after another dreaded bath, but you were able to slip away from the post-meal pleasantries for another stent in the garden.  It was a reprieve you were infinitely grateful for; the Daimyo and his wife grew even more curt and impatient in the aftermath of the attack.  Your ever-observant ears were yet to detect the true meaning why.

The roses needed pruning desperately, but you were wary of shocking them with clipping after the jostle they’d recently had.  However, your hands found their stems in the delicate dirt, and you could hardly resist caring for the most tragic parts of them.  It was only as you stood to shift to a new set of bushes that you noticed Kakashi wandering toward you.

“Hey.”  His voice floated across the space between you as he drew closer, and you glanced up to find a gentle, reassuring expression plastered to the visible portion of his face.  He wasn’t trying to harm you, you realized.  He wasn’t using the vulnerabilities you’d shown him against you in any truly malicious fashion.  No, he was just disengaging from you.  Stepping back.  Abandoning you to your fate.

Somehow, it was almost more cruel.

“Hello,” you murmured, gaze returning to the white and gold petals in front of you.

He loomed over you, but after spending so much time with Kakashi, the gesture felt anything but threatening.  Damn your traitorous heart.

“We need to talk.”

Your head cocked gently, but your eyes did not stray from the blossoms arching skyward before you.  “What about?”

“We’re fairly certain,” he spoke softly, and in the following admission, his voice grew even gentler still, “the poison bomb was targeted to you specifically.”

You sucked in a breath.  At some point, you knew this would be coming.  You just knew.  But so soon?  You’d barely had time to live, and they were already plotting your death?  How cruel.  You would have jumped at the chance to flee the country, to never to rule again.  Yet, they still insisted on killing you.  It was truly barbaric.

☽☽☽⚜☾☾☾

Kakashi studied your reaction closely, prompting you when you did not respond.  “Any idea why someone would try to poison you?”

You hummed lowly and shook your head, and Kakashi felt his heart sink. Did you really not trust him to tell him the truth? As observant as you were, you must have known something!

A small gasp had him looking down at you again. You were clutching your finger, a pearl of blood gathering on the tip.

A maid rushed forward, ushering you back toward the shade of the palace while another ran to retrieve bandages and hot water. The commotion was minimal, small enough not to warrant Kakashi’s concern. But something else was.

In all the time he’d watched you tend the garden, he’d never once witnessed you catch on the stickers of a rose bush. You moved fluidly in the garden, with practiced motions he could only admire. So why were you injured now?

Slowly, he crouched beside the plant you’d been tending, eyes trailing through the forest of thorns. There was blood on one, but that wasn’t what caught his attention.

Carved into the dirt below the plant was a message.

There are too many ears here. We’ll talk later.

As he reached for the watering can to clear away the evidence of your conversation, Kakashi could only marvel at your quick thinking.  You’d cut yourself on purpose.

☽☽☽⚜☾☾☾

As the maids fussed and pouted over the small slice running across your finger, you could only hope the shinobi you’d allied yourself with was observant enough to know you weren’t a klutz.

You had no reason to trust him.  No reason to think you should keep risking yourself after he so clearly drew the line between you.  Yet, you couldn’t help the hope that somehow he’d get you out.

He had been retreating, but retreating armies could be swayed with the right battle cry.  If you played your remaining cards right, maybe, just maybe, he would find a way to save you.  Though, you hardly wanted saving, nor needed saving.  But worlds aren’t conquered alone, battles aren’t defeated in isolation, and you don't have many options left when it comes to forming allies.

You would share your information with Kakashi.  You had to.  The walls were closing in, and if you couldn’t find a way to break one soon, fate would eat you alive.

The soft clunk of the watering can pulled you from your daydreams, and you caught sight of something you never imagined seeing: a shinobi watering your flowers.

Obviously, he’d understood your message and took the initiative to clear it away in the most unconscious, unassuming way possible, but the thrill zinging through your chest came from the way he so delicately doused the roots of the plants, assuring that not even a single drop of water touched the leaves that were so easily prone to mold. Unlike the rest of your companions, who acted with little regard for your one public joy, Kakashi moved with deliberate, considerate motions as he emptied the container along the row of bushes.  You could only hope he would be just as deliberate and considerate with you.

☽☽☽⚜☾☾☾

It took ample effort for Kakashi to convince Tetsu and Maki that a solitary approach to information extraction would be ideal.  They, understandably, did not want to inadequately perform their duties.  However, they could not overlook the reality that you had not come to anyone but Kakashi when it came to startling issues.  That knowledge caused them to eventually relent.

But Kakashi could hardly believe it.  Why would you go to him for help? Why would you seek him out when he was as much of a threat to you as the others were?  Why had you put your faith in him?  And, the most pressing of his concerns, had he destroyed that faith by upsetting you?  

Fear ate away at his gut through the rest of the afternoon and evening.  No one could tell how deeply he worried for your varyingly intertwined futures, but that didn’t stop him from worrying all the same.

☽☽☽⚜☾☾☾

Kakashi agreed to walk with you to the gazebo that night. He seemed relaxed, even as the two of you piled into the small structure.

It wasn’t a particularly extravagant thing. With ivy and morning glories crawling up the sides and weaving knots over several of the windows, the space provided a pseudo-privacy.  Any real spy—enemy or ally—would have no trouble detecting the two of you within the confines of the structure.  However, it was nice to imagine you were alone and far from the stifling formality of the palace.

The gazebo itself was well-kept, if overgrown, and the slatted floor was smooth as you knelt against it.  Although you did not mind tarnishing your gowns, the tongue lashing you’d receive for returning in a torn skirt would have been more unbearable than you’d care to admit.

Kakashi was watching you carefully, back resting nonchalantly against one of the gazebo’s support beams.  The position hardly looked comfortable, but he slouched into it with a grace that could only indicate some level of satisfaction.  Your skin burned under his scrutiny, but his focus had nothing to do with you and everything to do with the information you had to share.  The knowledge of that righted your hopeful, traitorous mind.

“There is war on the horizon,” you explained softly.

His visible eye narrowed in silent question, and you carefully spread a map you’d torn from a book ages ago across the wooden slats on the floor. Your finger drug across the worn ink, tracing cities you’d never seen and places you’d never go in an arc across the country’s northern villages.

“There is unrest here. The northern factions—specifically a group called the Sheep’s Army—have colluded to overthrow some of the Daimyo’s policies. Political upheaval appears to be imminent.”

Kakashi nodded slowly, and his voice was businesslike as he spoke. “The Sheep’s Army wants to overthrow the Daimyo, and you’re attacked as collateral?”

“No. At least, I don’t believe that’s where this last attack has come from. The Sheep’s Army, they would have claimed it.”

Another nod.  That dark, narrowed eye stared at you with dizzying intensity, and it dawned on you: he really cared that you were kept safe.  If nothing else, that mattered to him.

“Then who?”

Again, your finger trailed over the map, gliding over the southern cities. A few of them you’d been to. A pretty face to make the civilians pleased. “Unlike the North, the Southern part of the country has flourished under the Daimyo’s policies. When word of the Sheep’s Army got out, many citizens joined together to form the Concerned Army, a group working to support the Daimyo. Of course, the two groups are fundamentally opposed to one another, so they hold a rather severe hatred toward the other party.”

“Civil war?” His reply was instantaneous, and you marveled at how quickly he’d come to a conclusion that even your father—a lover of war—was yet to accept.

“Indeed. With the state of our agriculture in the North and the economic upheaval in areas of the south, the country would be on the brink of collapse.”

“And what? Your father stages your death to draw sympathy?”

The words died on your tongue, and you were sure the surprise and hesitance on your face was as plain as day to someone as observant as Kakashi. Was your father plotting to kill you? Was that the reason he gave little consideration to the possibility of a civil war? The thought hadn’t occurred to you until now, and you weren’t sure how to process it.

Kakashi was clever. Much more clever than you, though you’d never give him the pleasure of saying so. Was it possible he’d noticed something that you hadn’t? Surely he had access to more information than you did.

“I’m sorry. That wasn’t what you were going to say, was it?” His words broke you out of your thoughts, and you glanced back up to meet his gaze, forcing strength and resolve into your expression. Information was the only tool you had in your arsenal to save your life, and you’d share every last drop that you could.

“No, it wasn’t. Though, it’s not out of the realm of possibilities.”

His steely resolve egged you on. If he could face death every day with the strength of an expertly forged blade, then you could face this with strength, too.

“I was going to say the Daimyo’s advisors. If the Daimyo and his family die in a tragic accident, an advisor can take the place of Feudal Lord. A new ruler pleases the northern cities—“

“And your death prevents the southern cities from forcing a royal family member into the role.”

“Precisely.”

The wind whispered through the ivy, tousling his hair and your dress. It rustled the map below your hand, nearly ripping it from the ground.

You wished it could blow you away. Then, you’d be free of the life and the death, the pampering and the underhanded plots, the war and faked familial peace. Just a speck, blowing in the wind. But that would never be the case.

Rolling the map, you tucked it back into your clothing before standing. Between parts of the twining vines curling up the sides of the windows, you could still look out to see bits and pieces of the river.

Silence stretched between you as long and languid as the summer’s heat. The fireflies flickered. The lake rippled as though it were a melted beast barely breathing after a long afternoon in the sun.

The world was peaceful, if only for a moment.

☽☽☽⚜☾☾☾

You were beautiful. Standing there in front of the ivy, a faint dusky glow glistening off your skin, you were the paradigm of opulence.

But there was something deeper standing in your eyes. Something almost as real and raw as the surprised horror dawning on your face when he’d proposed the Daimyo’s possible plans.

To Kakashi’s infinite surprise, you let your guard down around him, if only a little. He knew it had to be calculated; you needed an ally more than anything. However, he still couldn’t squash down his interest in the many hidden moods you seemed to possess.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

You glanced at him in surprise, as though you weren't suspecting an interruption, and Kakashi feared he’d broken some unspoken social rule you’d set in place.

However, your soft voice floated toward him, full of a melancholy so intense that it howled through his heart. “Sometimes I wish I could just go.”

The vulnerability nearly stole his breath away. Sure, you’d revealed your disinterest in becoming ruler before, but now, here, with the way your brows pinched and gaze searched the horizon like a door would suddenly appear to sweep you away, you displayed your true intentions tenfold. This was another deep layer behind the impenetrable mask you’d built up. A layer almost more interesting and complex than Kakashi could fathom.

Distantly, he knew you were playing your true colors like a deck of well-guarded cards. There was no way for him to know what you would play next. But all of it would have some merit, some intention. He’d yet to see you do something without reason.

You needed an ally. With nearly half the country fighting for your head, and just as many enemies inside the palace as out of it, you needed someone who would stand beside you when things got rough. A strong, competent soldier. Someone battle ready in all the physical and mental ways you weren’t.

Yet, Kakashi couldn’t help thinking there was more to it than that. Perhaps it was the vain part of him, but he couldn’t imagine you choosing to tell him because of his physical prowess or skills. It must have been another reason, another part of him that drew you in. His heart ached to believe that you chose him for him.

And to keep you by his side, to keep your trust, he had to play his cards right. He had to show you just enough of his hand that you would continue to trust him, tell him things, depend on him. Just thinking about it made his heart race.

But you were being genuine, so he needed to be genuine, too.

“I can’t let you run. But… maybe someday sooner than you think you can have the life you want.”

You nodded, but your expression held little of the hope Kakashi anticipated seeing and all of the disbelief. “That’s a more outrageous claim than you realize,” you breathed back.

And maybe it was. But Kakashi wanted to believe you’d achieve your dreams—that your hopes, no matter how small, wouldn’t be in vain.  He just couldn’t be the one to give them to you.

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Taglist: @zorosq, @september-ctd, @lilpsychoqueen, @berkeliums, @levisbebe, @canibea-whore-yet

A/N: This series isn't abandoned! I'm just very slow! Sending love to anyone that has been hanging in there for this update, and I hope everyone is having a happy 2023!

[lalunanymph]

𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐃 — part of the bewitched universe

"if i loved you less, i might be able to talk about it more"

as an arranged marriage to a woman he doesn’t want looms over him, gojo satoru resolves to seize control of his destiny by marrying the very first woman he sees—a disgraced aristocrat from an enemy family who happens to be mute. as political ties unravel, will this ruse succeed or ultimately cost him his life? 

warnings: forced marriage, fake marriage, historical au, daimyo!gojo, disgraced princess!reader, mute!reader, trauma, a/buse, heavy tones of cheating, reader is coded to be feminine, HEAVY ANGST, political drama, mentions of war, canon typical violence, mentions of blood, mentions of alcohol, mentions of r/ape, non-con -> dub-con, repressed feelings, mentions of babies, mentions of war, explicit smut, breeding, enemies to lovers, slow burn, more tba....

i. PROLOGUE

ii. THE DISGRACED DAUGHTER

iii. HEIRLOOM

iv. THE BRIGHTEST BLUE

more tba ....

the daimyo and his disgraced one (playlist) | old entangled masterlist

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

[nobuverse]

"....huh? Did you say something...?"

Kippoushi doesn't even bother to lift her eyes towards him to ask the question; attention having clearly shifted to studying Mondragon instead. Trying to figure out that weapon just by staring at had long become the more interesting thing to do right now.

You have lost her completely.

"Dammit... I thought I'd simplified LTV enough to make it clear what the formula is expressing... Even Xiang ran out the room screaming about killing Helena. Is my theory really that complex?"

[veronicaphoenix]

the unmaking of a warrior masterpost

Pairing: samurai!noah x princess!reader ⚔️

            Summary: Samurais are bound by an oath to sacrifice their lives for their masters, if required. Among the Daimyos, the Shoguns stand as the most powerful masters, with Noah’s being a prominent military leader. 

            Noah’s predicament arises when he becomes embroiled in a forbidden love affair with the Shogun’s daughter. Unable to resist the allure, he finds himself entangled in a passion that is sure to bring forth inevitable consequences.

— General trigger warnings: this is a forbidden romance story. this work contains mentions of arranged marriages, graphic scenes of violence (including descriptions of blood, mentions of suicide, one mention of suggested abortion), talks of pregnancy, explicit sexual content, and talks and scenarios describing shibari practices (rope play).

main storyline

part one — part two — part three — part four — part five — part six — part seven — part eight — part nine — epilogue one — epilogue two

additional one shots

the first time | let me worship you

[lillymakesart]

an alternative way to interpret the entire series:

what if this entire show isn't about mizu at all. what it if it's actually about her birth mother

imagine if this woman lived through so much suffering, indignance, and betrayal that in her dying breath she gave birth to a daughter that became the embodiment of her onryo, a living reincarnation of all of her hatred while she was alive

maybe there's a backstory somewhere where every person mizu kills represents someone that had wronged her mother - faceless men representing daimyo lords that wronged her, the 4 white men that made her suffer, all of edo burning to the ground for making her life a living hell while she lived there

maybe once mizu finishes her quest, her mother's curse might finally be lifted and causes her to go through a soul-level transformation where her true self is finally revealed send post

[whotookmysenbon]

Yes, he does, but he hasn’t felt any sort of touch in so long that wasn’t an attack that he perceives any gentle touch as a threat subconsciously and can’t relax into it. It’s a shinobi thing.

Do you need a hug?

No, thanks.

[nocandnc]

~Edo period Kikoru-sama~

The wealthy daughter of a warrior turned daimyo, Kikoru is of Dutch descent via a political marriage made to strengthen trading ties. Nearly all importation of the latest foreign weaponry and medicine needed to combat kaiju is overseen by the Shinomiya family, making them quite important.

In this AU, Kikoru doesn't start out as a proper fighter. Though she's trained with various weapons and martial arts, Kikoru has not experienced real battle and the soldiers always go easy on her when asked to spar.

While Isao remains distant and is often away for both business and battle, Kikoru has a slightly warmer relationship with him due to the altered circumstances of her childhood. After he's killed by a powerful kaiju, Kikoru awakens to a godly blessing not unlike Ashiro no Mikoto and resolves to take up arms.

Kikoru feels a bit out of place at times thanks to her mixed heritage (not that she'd ever admit it). As such, she's particularly drawn to a young samurai in her family's employ named Reno who is also of mixed descent.

Though I said previously that I wouldn't go into details on the godly aspect of this AU, thinking of which kami would give different characters favor has become too much fun... so I'm just going to go ahead and indulge myself!! So, who would Kikoru receive power from?

Izanami, goddess of the underworld.

While she's largely known as such, Izanami is first and foremost a creator goddess, the mother goddess from whom many of Japan's primary kami were made. It would be quite fitting then, I think, that Kikoru's mother also had Izanami's blessing. Taking Kikoru's "no one dies while I'm on the battlefield" line to the extreme, I think luck of this variety would likely be the nature of her blessing - but it wouldn't cover the wielder herself. Meaning Hikari still loses her life in battle much like in the main series.

Instead of raising her to be a fighter, Isao deters Kikoru from following in her mother's footsteps to the point of lying about Hikari's role as a warrior altogether. So Kikoru grows up safe and restless, eager to act but lacking in real power. Only after she experiences death - the death of her father - does the goddess of death herself take notice.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Series Synopsis: The story of how you, the bastard daughter of the Hiiragi clan, gain power in a country at constant war — and how, just as quickly, you lose it, too.

Chapter Synopsis: An introduction to you, Y/N L/N, the unwanted daughter of a serving maid and a daimyo.

Series Masterlist

Pairing(s): Otoya x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 6.2k

Content Warnings: sengoku period au, character death, angst, sad ending, implied abuse, lots of political content, violence and war, the characters will probably be ooc a bit (as is to be expected when you put a bunch of soccer freaks into the warring states period), they are all morally questionable AT BEST, i promise i don’t hate your fav if they act heinous it’s just that someone has to, the prose here is so purple you might confuse it for reo mikage, i may or may not include original characters, i do try and do a bit of research but this is a bllk reader insert fanfic so please keep your expectations for historical accuracy and whatnot at a minimum, possibly a bit suggestive eventually

A/N: erm…hey guys…this one’s for the three otoya stans out there 🤞🏻 listen i don’t even like him that much (prefer his bff tbh) but for some reason i can’t stop thinking about him and i had this idea for a fic that just wouldn’t let me go so uhh here we are!! but this is one i really don’t know how i feel about so lmk if you liked it/think i should continue

On the day you were born, a star died. It was like a great gash in the sky, supposedly, a bloody smear of fire against the blue of the afternoon, which flickered to the rise and fall of your wails and only vanished once you had been taken to your mother’s breast. The story was told to you so often that you could picture it as vividly as if you had been there, though of course your recall of the event was non-existent. But your half-brother, who had barely been more than a child at your birth, took a particular pleasure in reminding you that you were the star-killer, the ill-portended bastard who was a curse on his family.

He was relentless like a hornet, that half-brother of yours. A better man would’ve ignored you completely, would’ve taken satisfaction in his own supremacy and left you, who were no threat to his position nor his ego, alone. Yet it remained that it was your half-brother’s favorite pastime to follow you around and whisper things in your ears, striking you swiftly if you dared to respond.

“You’re a monster,” he’d murmur when he wanted to amuse himself. “Little witch-thing. You were just a babe when you murdered your surrogate…I wonder, is it truly the same blood which runs in both our veins? No, I am sure that you are just a demon who has taken the place of my sweet half-sister. Did you kill her, too? May she rest in peace. Greedy child. Devil child. A star and a woman and a little girl — how many more until you are satisfied?”

Though you had learnt long ago the value of your silence, there were still occasions when you would tell him no, that it was not the case. It was a meaningless form of retribution. He knew the truth, knew it as well as you did or maybe better, but he did not care. It was a little play of yours, this argument and its various other forms, and if you were to deviate from your script, you’d be met with the consequences of displeasing your audience of one.

“You killed her,” he would say, your cheek stinging where he had slapped it, his pale irises gleaming at the tremble of your lower lip, which even after so many years you could not quell completely. “You killed them both, didn’t you? Apologize for it. Repent for the sin.”

The relationship between you and your half-brother was of little consequence to your father. If he hurt you or if he loved you — what did it matter to the man whose adoption of you was so reluctantly done as to be all but forced? Your half-brother was the one who shared his name, who was his perfect heir, who had twin moons for eyes and was born at the stroke of midnight. You were the one who had killed a star and a surrogate alike, whose name was common and plain, as was fitting for the daughter of a dead serving girl. Certainly, the sacrifice was easy to make, and likely it was not even a sacrifice in the first place. The closest he ever got to reprimanding your half-brother was letting out a heavy sigh when he walked past your frozen form, reminding him that ought to keep better company.

You could not say the same about yourself. You lived in the Hiiragi manor only on account of your father’s charity, and so you were expected to conduct yourself in a manner that invited the highest praise — though you never received this praise, naturally. If you were behaving in an exemplary way, then you were only doing as you ought to, and anything lesser was met with cold correction.

According to your father, you were an embarrassment, but one he had to display as if he were proud. He was a daimyo, the lord of your province, and so he was meant to be the perfect example of an honorable man. Nobody batted an eye when he lay with his own servants — it was typical, anyways, especially since his own wife had died in the service of his first and only son — but when the stomach of the maid who swept the kitchens began to swell, the whispers abounded. What would happen to the child, who was undoubtedly of the Hiiragi line? Would he acknowledge her, or would he throw her to her death in the streets?

Well, it would’ve been worse if he cast her away, so reluctantly, your father watched over your mother, caring for her until you were born. That day, he snatched you away, your lips still wet from milk, your thin hair plastered to your tiny brow, and he handed you to the waiting surrogate. After that, he had your mother killed, taken to the back and burnt alive when she was too weak to fight back.

It was easy for him to disguise the murder by claiming that she, too, had faced the same fate as his beloved wife. Hiiragi blood claws at the womb. Though of course you were no Hiiragi — you were Y/N L/N, undeserving of a nobler address — it was true that, despite your circumstances, you were still half a lady, a daimyo’s daughter as much as you were a maid’s. So your father blamed her death on you, and only a select few knew the truth, all of whom shared blood and two of whom shared a name.

Though it was impossible for him to remember it, your half-brother would describe the gray of the smoke to you, the way your mother’s ashes had swirled into the air and her screams had faded into the crackling of embers. Only when your eyes welled with tears would he snicker and leave you to your own devices, ruffling your hair fraternally, though the gesture was anything but.

“What cause do you have to cry?” he’d call out over his shoulder. “You hardly knew the woman. At least her death at Father’s hand was quick; were she left to you, she would’ve suffered for longer and longer. It was a mercy, though I am sure you know not what that word means.”

Once you had grown older, you began to understand, in pieces and then all in a rush, what purpose you served for your father, why he had kept you at his side so many years after propriety demanded. Your father, who had never had any other children bar your half-brother…if he wanted to secure an alliance with one or another of the neighboring daimyos, who were ever clamoring for more territory, more land, more wealth, more more more, what was the best option? It was you.

Mere days after you turned of age, the men began to arrive at the Hiiragi manor. These conversations were like dancing with snakes for your father and half-brother, each word a baring of their fangs, each sly remark a biting challenge, each exchanged glance a seeping of their poison. You were relegated to pouring tea and keeping your gaze lowered, a showpiece more than a participant.

The more foolish of the supplicants, in their earnest desires to appease the serpent-kin Hiiragis, would seek to compliment you, claiming that no more beautiful woman existed in all the world, insisting to your father that, were they given your hand and thus the support of the Hiiragis, they would build a palace grand enough to contain even one such as yourself.

This was when your half-brother would make himself known, his expression coy and playful, his voice a smooth hiss as he reminded the suitor that you were a bastard. The daughter of a maid, he’d say with a laugh, the sound jarring and devoid of mirth. You find her so lovely? You must not have very high standards, then.

Their faces would go white, and the corners of your father’s lips would twitch as he commanded them to leave at once. The Hiiragi would not ally themselves with those who had such lofty but baseless aspirations, not when they themselves had their own goals which they pursued so staunchly — only an equal or greater would receive the honor of their support, of their only daughter, who was barely classified as such but nevertheless had attained at least that much in her lifetime.

“There’s a suitor coming to see you,” your half-brother said, the painted screen door pushed aside, his arms crossed as he peered into your room. “Hey. Shitty Y/N. Get dressed; Father seems to think this one might have some merit to him.”

“Might you send a maid to assist me?” you said, your voice catching in the back of your throat when he raised his eyebrows. “Reiji, you must realize that it is difficult for me to ready myself to that extent.”

Reiji’s lip curled as he regarded you, but finally, to your relief, he nodded at you. “Very well, though only because this meeting is of import and it would not do for you to have a shoddy appearance.“

“Thank you,” you said, pressing your forehead to the floor until you heard the whoosh of the door as it slid shut. Curling your fists, you pushed yourself up until you were kneeling in front of your dressing table, staring into the mirror and wincing when you noticed that there were dark hollows under your eyes.

“Miss L/N,” a soft voice called from the other side of the screen. “Shall I enter?”

“You may,” you said. You recognized her gentle intonations; she was, after all, the only maid in the manor who treated you as if you were a true-born Hiiragi and not some other, accursed thing.

The door opened once again, but she stood alone, her tiny figure such a contrast to Reiji’s boasting frame. Her bright hair was tied back, her eyelids lowering in disappointment when she glanced at you.

“Ah, Miss L/N, you must endeavor to sleep earlier,” she said, crouching behind you, her clever fingers beginning to weave through your hair. “Are those terrors plaguing you anew?”

“Is it so obvious?” you said.

“Rather, it is that I know you so well,” she said. “So, that is the reason?”

“It is,” you said, pursing your lips. “But that is enough questioning on the matter, Anri. I should not like to speak of it.”

“Perhaps it would be helpful if you did,” she suggested. “Do you not agree? Recounting them could ward them away.”

“It has never worked in the past, so why should it work now? I think that you are disguising your curiosity as concern,” you said.

“I—I—I would do no such thing! Miss L/N, how could you even suggest it?” she sputtered.

“It was only a jest,” you said, fighting back a smile. “Anyways, I suppose that this terror is of a different nature, so it may yet vanish if I speak it aloud.”

For as long as you could remember, you had had fitful episodes, lasting a week but never longer, in which you dreamt of terrible things that haunted you even in your waking hours. None of these visions ever had much coherence, but there was a sense of doom interspersed throughout, a personal doom, as if they held a sort of significance to you that you were too naive to understand.

“This time, there was a man,” you said. “I saw him vividly, though I cannot recall him any longer.”

“A man!” Anri said.

“Yes, and I believe a comely one, to answer what I know you will not speak aloud. His face has been lost to me, but I was frightened of him, or perhaps for him,” you said. “It is the first time I have watched someone other than my mother die in the fire. He embraced her as it happened, but despite their familiarity, I am certain it was not my father.”

Every single nightmare ended in the same way: a woman’s immolation, flames licking up her dress and lashing against her face, which resembled yours so greatly that you knew she could be no one else but your mother. Her expression was stony and set, though her eyes danced with a wild sort of panic as she burned, her jaw twitching from the efforts of silencing the screams that Reiji had claimed he had heard.

This was the first time that she had not been alone, her taut muscles releasing as the man appeared. Though your mother’s face never left your mind — you could not escape it when a facsimile stared back at you whenever you gazed at your reflection — the man was out of your grasp, a slippery sort of person who you wanted very badly to remember but simply could not.

He had had his back to you, facing your mother at her end, and then he had gathered her in his arms, clutching her tightly and allowing the fire to take them both. And though tears had dripped from her eyes, though she had shivered from the pain of their shared death, you had noticed that for the first time, your mother had seemed happy, as if her impending doom meant nothing in face of what you got the sense was a long-anticipated reunion.

“Did your mother have another lover?” Anri said.

“How should I know?” you said, harsher than you had intended. Anri flinched from surprise, and you frowned. “I apologize.”

“No, the error is mine, Miss L/N,” she said. “Please forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to be forgiven. You were merely expressing your interest in the subject, and I had the gall to snap at you for it. To tell you the truth, he did hold her in the way a lover might, but I have never heard much if anything about my mother’s past, so that does nothing to solve the mystery of his identity. Anyways, if ever he did exist, he’s likely long dead, so it does not warrant further investigation,” you said.

“Of course not,” she said, pressing a cake of powder against your face, blowing the excess away. “Do you think that this discussion has assuaged you?”

“That’s a question I can only answer after tonight, you know,” you said.

“Oh, I have spoken hastily,” she said. “Forgive me.”

“You needn’t apologize,” you said. “I am not Reiji nor my father. It isn’t possible for you to wrong me. For if you could, then I would not be Y/N L/N but Y/N Hiiragi, and as I am not, you ought to worry less.”

“You are still Lord Hiiragi’s daughter, and as such, I will give you the respect that that position demands,” she said.

“Am I?” you said. “What if I am that man’s daughter?”

“Were there even a hint of uncertainty as to your parentage, I do not doubt that Lord Hiiragi would’ve long ago sent you away,” Anri said. “Without question, you are his. A name cannot change that.”

“It is a reminder better given to my half-brother,” you said. “Reiji believes me to be a devil, one of the star-killing variety.”

“Well, that half-brother of yours—” Anri began before silencing herself. “Regardless. Not even the Shogun himself could take your inheritance from you.”

“Thank you, Anri,” you said, recognizing that she had put herself into danger just for the sake of your reassurance. It wasn’t fair of you to demand, so you mustered a grin in the hope that she did not continue to worry. “Am I ready, then? Reiji said that Father believes this suitor to be a genuine prospect, so I do not wish to tarry.”

“You are as lovely as ever,” she said. “The hollyhock of the Hiiragi.”

You could not see that supposed beauty, not in yourself, but if Anri said it, then it was definitely there. Clasping your hands, you nodded at her, your face warm at the comparison to your family’s flower.

“Thank you,” you said. “You may go fetch Reiji now. I am sure that he wishes to escort me, as is proper.”

“I will return at once,” she said.

You inhaled and exhaled, counting the seconds in between to calm your nerves. Your father had never once spoken favorably of a candidate for your hand until now — did that mean this was it, then? Had he finally found the family that he wished to align himself with? Which would it be, and would their son be cruel? You did not mind running the household, but if your husband were unkind or overly interested in your affairs, then you were unsure of whether you could handle it. And children, what of children? Would you be expected to have many? Would it be a demon which you carried, a star-killer like yourself or a Hiiragi which clawed at your womb as it left? All of these things and more you considered, the endless loop playing as you waited for Reiji and Anri to return.

“You look acceptable, sister,” Reiji said, his charade well-perfected at this point. If your marriage was meant to unite two clans, then you could not be referred to with the usual indignity. Of course, you could not be a Hiiragi, but you had to be considered the sister of one, or else your father’s efforts would be for naught, and given the instability of the country at the moment, that would be a fatal mistake.

“Thank you, Reiji — brother,” you said, correcting yourself when you stumbled over his name and he shot you a dark glare. The iciness of his eyes, which might’ve entranced anyone else, seemed sinister and dull to you, and you did everything you could to ensure that they were not settled upon you for too long.

Your father sat across from a boy with dark, wavy hair, who turned to look at you when you entered. He had wide eyes that were the burnished color of a gourd, and his face was appealingly structured, his shoulders broad and a sword strapped at his waist. When he noticed that it was only you and Reiji, he dipped his chin in acknowledgement.

“Mister Reiji Hiiragi,” he said. “It is a pleasure to meet you. Your father has spoken highly of you.”

“The pleasure is mine, sir…?” Reiji said.

“Kenyu Yukimiya,” the boy said. On closer inspection, he was nearing the cusp of manhood; several years your elder and likely even wiser than Reiji, he was hardly a boy at all anymore. “My father is daimyo of the neighboring province, and I am his heir. Am I to assume that that woman is your sister?”

“Y/N L/N,” Reiji said, maneuvering you in front of him so that your charms could be on display for Yukimiya. “Greet him, sister.”

“Welcome, Mister Yukimiya. It is an honor. Would you like some tea?” you said.

“I should not say no, I think,” he said. “In the face of such generous hospitality, who could refuse?”

As was traditional, all three of them quieted, contemplating and meditating on their woven mats as you prepared the tea, pressing your whisk against the powdered leaves and boiling the water. It was a soothing ritual, the billowing steam clearing your head of the migraine which threatened to build behind your temples, the easy motions of the preparation allowing your hands to work mindlessly and simply at the task.

After the tea was prepared, you bowed before Yukimiya. He raised his cup for you, and you filled it carefully, ensuring that you did not spill even a drop. Holding the pot steady until the liquid reached the rim, you bowed again and then repeated the actions for your father, after which came your half-brother. Then, you stowed the pot and the tea-making materials away; it would be improper if you, as the official host of this meeting despite contributing almost nothing to it, partook as well.

“That was elegantly done,” Yukimiya said as you returned to your place at Reiji’s side. “I’m impressed. For only being half-highborn, you have taken to the customs quite well, Miss L/N.”

He said it bluntly. Half-highborn. This was, after all, a person who did not have to fear your father’s rage, not when his own family was of a comparable status. The Hiiragis could not raise a hand against him, not if they wished to avoid a war with the Yukimiyas, and as that would be costly, your father could not respond to an insult even when it was so plainly given.

“She is a quick learner,” your father said, and instead of offense, there was interest twinkling in his mien. Yukimiya took a sip from his cup, mulling over the taste and your father’s response alike.

“Might I inquire why she has the name L/N, and not Hiiragi? If she is your daughter, then surely the latter is her birthright,” he said.

“She is a bastard,” your father said. “You know that already.”

“I was aware,” Yukimiya affirmed.

“Her mother died upon her birth; my daughter chose to take her name instead, as a way to keep her memory alive,” your father said.

“I see,” Yukimiya said. Whether or not he saw through the obvious lie was irrelevant; your father had given him a weapon with which he could defend himself to those who might question his future wife’s parentage, should he choose to take you. That was all that he needed. “She must be of a more sensitive temperament.”

“As a lady, it’s to be expected,” your father said genially.

“I confess I grew up without a sister, so I am not used to the inclinations of young women,” Yukimiya said. “I shall take you at your word, Lord Hiiragi.”

“I thank you for your trust,” your father said. He might’ve seemed indifferent, but in truth there was a great joy to the heaviness of his forehead and the set of his cheeks, which only you and Reiji could detect.

“If you are not opposed to me asking for your trust in return, and if the lady agrees to it, then I would like it if she might show me around your gardens,” Yukimiya said. “It’d allay any misgivings of mine if I could speak to her in private before I make a decision one way or another.”

“Neither my daughter nor I would deny such a gently given request, especially not coming from a guest,” your father said. “Y/N, please see Mister Yukimiya to the gardens at once.”

“Yes, Father. Please follow me, sir,” you said, standing and bowing at Yukimiya once more. He stood as well, walking purposefully after you. He was careful to pace his longer strides with yours, so that you were not gasping and racing to keep up with him, as you often were with Reiji. The casual tact warmed you to him, and as the two of you entered the gardens, you took a moment to sneak a glance at him.

“Your innocence is fascinating,” Yukimiya said when he caught you peering at him. “At first, I was convinced that it was an act you put on in front of your father, but it seems to be genuine.”

You cringed. “Forgive me, sir. I meant no disrespect by it.”

“It’s really interesting,” he said. “Do you think I mean to hurt you?”

“If you did, I could not stop you,” you said. “Our families are not on the best of terms, are they?”

“Who told you that?” he said in alarm.

“It is commonly known that the daimyos do not get along,” you said. “Why should your father and mine be any different?”

“The relationship is awkward, but it is not as bad as it could be, or as some are,” Yukimiya said, relaxing. “Were it any worse, I’d be a fool to come here alone in the pursuit of a mere girl.”

“A mere girl?” you said. “But is the alliance not what you are truly after? If so, then it would have been in pursuit of that which you rode, not of me, and so it would’ve been far less foolish and more pacifistic in nature.”

“True,” he admitted freely. “You are only an additional benefit, but one I am not opposed to. I would have accepted your father’s proposal regardless, but I must confess I am pleased to find you so agreeable.”

He meant to win you over with his kindness, as surely as he had won over your father with his stoic maturity. Reiji had instructed you in these things, told you to be wary of men who treated you well, but you could not help the fluttering in your stomach at the unprecedented tenderness Yukimiya was showing you.

“I find you agreeable as well,” you said. He let out a laugh, full-bodied and musical, suiting him exactly.

“Take me to your favorite place in these gardens. You must wander them often, yes?” he said.

“When I am given the opportunity,” you said, leading him down the path, past a copse of camphor trees and towards a low wall where hollyhocks burst from the ground, profusely flowering in shades of red and pink. They were towering, some arching above even Yukimiya, and a few bees darted around their blooms, paying you both no mind as you admired their work.

You preferred this location above all others, for the curve of the route and the height of the hollyhocks meant that you could, for a moment or two, be hidden away from Reiji and the rest of the Hiiragi household.

“And which flower do you find the loveliest?” Yukimiya said. You cocked your head before pointing at one so pale it was almost white, its petals reaching towards the sun and a butterfly resting at its center. Abruptly, Yukimiya drew his sword, and before you could cry out from shock, he brought it down on the stem of the blossom. The butterfly fluttered away, and the flower fell into his waiting palm, which he then extended to you.

“For you,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said, though your heart was still pounding from how quickly it had all been done. He tucked the flower behind your ear and stroked your cheek.

“We should return before your father grows worried about how long we are taking,” he said.

“Father wouldn’t worry,” you said, with only a tinge of rebelliousness.

“Oh?” Yukimiya said. “Is that so?”

“Er, I mean, well, it’s only that I’m in good company, and he is likely delighted by our camaraderie, so, ah…” you stammered when you realized how dangerous that simple misinterpretation could be. Thankfully, he only smiled at you.

“Of course, but fathers get protective over their daughters, and I would not like to fall from his favor when that very favor is so important to our success,” he said.

“It is sound reasoning,” you said. “Let us be off at once.”

You were dismissed to your chambers as the terms of the marriage were set, and this time Reiji did not come with you, so you allowed yourself to feel giddy. How you had been so frightened! If only you had known that Yukimiya would turn out in the way that he had, you would not have feared so greatly.

Anri came to help you undress that evening, and though she did not inquire, you knew she could tell from your uncharacteristic jumpiness that you were thrilled at the course of events. Being wedded to Yukimiya was not only a livable fate, it was one you could genuinely look forward to — if you were his wife, then you’d command a far greater respect than you ever had in the Hiiragi manor. You would no longer be the bastard-born Y/N L/N; instead, you’d be the next Lady Yukimiya, whose ancestry did not matter nearly as much as her progeny did.

As you settled down on your mat to sleep, pulling the duvet up around your shoulders and facing the window so your face could be bathed in the light of the moon, you hoped that you’d have a peaceful night. Whether your conversation with Anri or your joy at the engagement with Yukimiya…one or another of these things, you prayed, would have been enough to chase off your nightmares until the next week of fits came about.

To your eternal gratitude, it was a dreamless sleep you fell into, and indeed when you awoke to darkness, you could not discern what had caused you to stir. Sitting up and rubbing your eyes, your duvet falling in a puddle around your lap, you yawned, contemplating the notion of going to fetch a glass of water before attempting to return to your earlier state.

Before you could make up your mind either way, you became horrifyingly aware of a firm presence against your back. An arm wrapped around the side of your face, a gloved hand covering your mouth and a kunai pressing against the skin of your neck, angled so that it could pierce your throat if you moved even a centimeter. You did not even scream for fear of its wicked tip, and your breath came in harsh, short pants, the taste of linen washing over your tongue as you shuddered in the deadly embrace.

“Shh,” your invisible assailant murmured. “I’m good at this. It’ll be quick, young Hiiragi. You won’t even know it happened.”

Young Hiiragi. Not once in your life had you ever been called that, and before you could stop yourself, you were shaking your head, pulling back from the kunai, though he did not let you get very far.

“Plead all you want,” he said. “Go on, then. It’s late, so no one else will hear us. I don’t mind if you want to try; maybe if you offer to pay me more than my current employer, I’ll consider sparing you. Don’t think about calling for help, though. I’ll kill you before you can make a sound.”

He parted his fingers, though he still held you in place, staring ahead at the wall. You squeezed your eyes shut. This wasn’t real. It wasn’t real. It wasn’t, it wasn’t, you just had to go along with it and then you’d actually wake up and things would be fine.

“I’m not a Hiiragi,” you said. “I’m Y/N L/N. The bastard — the bastard girl. What good comes of you killing me? No one will care.”

He stiffened, you felt it against your body, though he tried to disguise it the moment that it happened. His voice was low and cold when he spoke next, as if you were the one who had wronged him and not the other way around.

“You’re the fucking girl,” he said. “That incompetent piece of shit. He told me he knew exactly which room the Hiiragi heir slept in before sending me, and you’re telling me he got it wrong?”

“Who?” you ventured to say. “Who wants to kill Reiji — my half-brother?”

“As if I’d tell you,” he said, and then the hand holding the kunai was balling into a fist and knocking against the top of your head lightly, almost teasingly. “Maybe if you think about it hard enough, though, you’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t — I don’t — are you going to kill me?”

You wished that in these last moments, you could’ve kept some kind of composure, could’ve held your head high the way your mother had, but you were nowhere near as strong as the woman in your dreams. You were a bumbling mess, tripping over your words, clinging desperately to a life you had never cared for in the first place.

“What to do, indeed?” he mused. “If I kill you, it’ll be ten times as difficult for me to come back to this place, but then again, you know of a plot against your half-brother, so how can I let you live? It’ll be a real weight on my conscience.”

“What conscience?” you said. “If you are a murderer-for-hire, then how can you claim to have anything resembling that?”

“I prefer being called a ninja, though as you please, lady,” he said. “By the way, this is generally when you would beg for me to spare you.”

“Will it matter? Will the course of your deliberations change if I beg?” you said.

“Give me something,” he said. “Something that makes letting you live worth it.”

“I have nothing of the sort. Only my own life, and even that is not so precious. I want to live, I cannot deny it; I want to live more than anything. It is a miserable life, yet it is mine, and I cannot bear to let go of it quite yet, so if begging is enough, then I shall fall to my knees gladly, but that is all I have to offer,” you said.

“Hm,” he said.

“They won’t believe me,” you tried. “Even if I tell them. Everyone knows I’ve been having nightmares this week. This is just another one of those terrors, isn’t it? If you think Reiji or my father would take me seriously in the best of days, then I’d call you delusional, but at a time when I am prisoner to my own visions, they are more likely to seek counsel from a quail.”

“How sorry,” he said. “To think that they would ignore their own daughter’s warnings. It’s only that kind of clan that could be killed by its own neighbors.”

“Yukimiya,” you breathed, the realization like a bucket of ice water over your head. This earned you an amused exhale.

“Smart girl,” he said.

“They sent you? But what about—”

“An excuse,” he said, before you could complete the inquiry. “For the son to come to the manor and grow familiar with its layout, so that he could direct me to Reiji Hiiragi’s quarters. It was a plan not without risk, but in this world, isn’t that the only way to succeed? Ah, I really should get rid of you now. I cannot believe that incompetent dimwit has put me in this kind of situation. I hate killing women.”

The kunai was back at your throat, this time the breadth of it resting against your pulse. You swallowed.

“Then don’t kill me,” you said. “Hurt me or take me hostage, but let me live.”

“A hostage?” he said. “Hostages are generally people who are wanted, Miss L/N. Taking you as one would bring me far more trouble than anything.”

“I don’t want to die,” you said. “What do you want from me? You said if I could give you something that makes letting me live worth it, you’d spare me.”

“There’s nothing,” he said. “That doesn’t exist. I was being cruel to you, lady, for no other reason than my personal entertainment. It’s like how a child might pry off the wings of a butterfly, causing it to suffer just because they can.”

“I won’t betray you,” you said. “Please, sir, I won’t. I really won’t.”

“Sir? I’ll admit I’ve never been called that before,” he said. “Would your opinion of me be lower if I said that I liked it? On second thoughts, don’t answer that. It’ll only hurt my feelings.”

“Have you no empathy?” you said. “You are joking around as if my life is not in your hands.”

“Empathy? For you and your kind, I feel none,” he said. “Hiiragi or not, you have spent your entire life in a walled off manor. We are so different as to be entirely separate species. Asking me to feel empathy for you is akin to asking me to move the sun a degree to the right. I cannot do it, I am not capable, and furthermore I think of you as grossly ignorant just for making the request.”

“Please,” you said, long ago having run out of anything else to say. He scoffed.

“That’s enough,” he said. “Let’s get on with it. I’ve wasted enough time here.”

“I’ll take you to my half-brother!” you said, the delicate flesh of your neck smarting from the shallow cut he had torn into it. “Reiji’s quarters. I will show you where they are.”

“You would trade his life for your own?” he said, pulling his kunai back, voice lilting with interest.

“Yes,” you said. He was silent for so long that, were it not for the crush of his chest against your spine, you would’ve thought he had vanished. Then, suddenly, he chuckled.

“Well, that’s unexpected,” he said. “Here I was, thinking you’d be the self-sacrificing type.”

“Kill him if you must,” you said. “But release me.”

Live. Live. Live. It was an imperative in your mind — you had to live. You could not die yet. You could not die here. If that meant latching onto your half-brother and draining him of his own existence, then you would do just that. If it meant you could survive, then you’d do it again and again, as many times as you had to.

“Close your eyes,” he said. You did so promptly, and your obedience was met with a condescending pat on the head. “Do not open them again until dawn. I shall let you live on the assumption that you are true to your word — but mind you, I will come to collect. Not today, but someday, I will kill Reiji Hiiragi, and you will be the one who gives me leave to do it.”

[firelightmuse]

Yume’s First Defeat

This moment, when Yume fights Zenos in the attack on Rhalgr’s Reach, Zenos easily overpowers her and Yume gets her first taste of defeat. For the first time in her life, she dueled an opponent and thoroughly lost.

This is an incredibly important moment in her life, as not only was it the first time she had to experience her ego getting bruised, but she also finally met the only person who her father would deem as worthy of marrying his daughter.

Yume cannot shake the feeling of knowing that if she were still her father’s heir and she was still destined to become daimyo, her father would have seen Zenos as the only one worthy to be Yume’s husband. In another time, in another life, she would have been betrothed to Zenos yae Galvus.

In turn, Yume becomes obsessed with wanting to fight Zenos again, for reasons that even she herself doesn’t quite understand.

[echoe-back-from-the-void]

Edo era JJK

Romantically involved characters: (Toji, Satoru, Suguru, Sukuna.)

Part 2 |

Every day I reminded myself I was lucky to be born the daughter of such a wonderful father. The first and only child of a great Daimyo, Nakamiji Hirano. Recently we had been invited to another festival at the grand palace by the emperor. The ride there, father had been silent, it wasn't that he had nothing to say but that he had too much.

Father was welcomed by many men who gave me leering looks before asking when I would be married off, offering to take me as a concubine or for one of their sons. I wanted to show displeasure but my father instead took his hand in mine before denying their requests.

Yes I was very lucky, I was lucky unlike so many other girls in different clans, gifted and traded like cattle. I was still young, only 11 summers, but I listened attentively as the festivities commenced. Making note of any hushed words shared among the clans.

It wasn't until we were back in the carriages again did father let out a curse, cursing the Zen'in clan for again propositioning us.

I knew our journey would take long to return home so I occupied myself with my thoughts and watching the scenery. A little further off I spotted another carriage before something was thrown out. As we got closer and closer I realized it was a boy. Maybe 16 or 17, long black hair and—"stop the carriage!" I said as soon as I could open my mouth.

The carriage stopped harshly and I jumped out to my father's shock, he had not seen the boy yet. I tripped falling out in my hurry but didn't care. Kneeling beside the boy I rolled him over to see his face. Bruised around his eye and a severe cut thought the corner of his lip. The boy rolled over with a groan before blinking up at me, I could see panic creeping into his gaze and raised my hands with a soft hushing noise.

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." I tried soothing.

From behind us my father finally got out of the carriage as well to approach. "Aya are you alright?" As he came closer he notice the deep scratches in my hand and knees. The side of my nose also scuffed.

"Father we can't just leave him."

"I understand." He agreed easily. Two of our guards lifted the boy into the carriage and set him on the floor. I frowned and kneeled beside him lifting his head into my lap so he wouldn't hit it on the floor of the carriage when we began moving again.  He groaned a couple times at some particularly hard bumps but did not regain consciousness.

When we moved him back to our home I offered to watch over him while assisting the nurse. Father only relented if I promised to not let my studies fall behind and to leave the door open.

When the young teenager regained consciousness he looked around cautiously. His eyes drifted to a girl who sat against the wall, asleep, her hands bandaged in her lap. He remembered seeing a girl fall out of her carriage to get to him and felt a tinge of guilt. Stupid girl.

His movements must've woken her because her eyelids began to flutter like two butterfly wings before focusing on him. She made work to move toward him but the second she put her hand on the floor to move she hissed and clutched it to her chest.

"I'm sorry." The boy said in a croaky unused voice.

"Are you okay?" The girl asked at the same time. The boy stalled in surprise and the girl tried again to move toward him. The girl focused on the water pitcher and glass beside his futon and with difficulty poured him a glass of water.

The boy drank the water with greedy gulps. "Thank you."

"What's your name?" The girl asked.

"Tōji." He said avoiding his last name.

Years later the boy continued to stay at the Hirano residence. Training under the guards he quickly flourished and insisted to be Hirano Hime's personal guard. But since the Hime did not often leave the property he would also go on short travels to train himself and or bring the hime back gifts.

"Toji!" A female voice said excitedly from far off before she began to run at him. He turned expecting her and caught her as she jumped into his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck in a tight hug as he held her up by the waist.

Aya moved her head back to see him with a wide smile. "Father said you would be coming back today." She hugged him again with a relaxing sigh. He himself felt his shoulders losen and soften at her touch and only her touch.

"I wouldn't miss your birthday for the world, Hime." He said softly letting her back on the ground.

She leaned back in the embrace to nudge his shoulder, "you only turn 21 once." She joked making Toji hum. He turned around again to grab his things and the two of them began to walk to the main building as Aya recounted everything that had happened and she learned since he had last been home. "—and the Zen'in's keep sending proposals so did a few other clans but father has turned them all down thankfully. A few Daimyo will be visiting for my birthday, father was the one to invite them, he's hoping that if I do not at least marry then I will still make allies and forge friendship with them. Since your home I was hoping we could train before they come, we haven't done it in so long and father wont let anyone else train with me."

Toji mentally thanked his lord for denying the Zen'in clan any proposals. He was miffed at the idea of his Hime being proposed to. And the idea of anyone else training her... he shook his head.

"So we can't train?" The Hime asked disappointed after seeing Toji shake his head.

"We can still train if your father allows it. My head is else where, I'm sorry princess." He said the childhood nickname with a fondness that made the girls ears turn red as she looked down.

"I'll go get everything set up while you settle back in." She said before quite literally running off toward the gardens.

After sparring with the older male she and him sat in the shade under her favorite tree. Her muscles ached as she leaned forward to stretch but she smiled despite that. "It's been too long since I had fun like that." She gave Toji a sincere smile that made his heart ache. There was no deflecting when she looked at him like that.

That smile she always gave him when her eyes would close and she would just glow. It didn't matter that her hair stuck to her forehead with sweat or that she was red in the face with flush. Instead he turned his face away before he could break composure. It wasn't fair that she could look at him like that and he couldn't do anything.

"You should go get ready for your party Hime. The first guest will be arriving soon." Toji reminded her and she jumped up.

"Ah! I guess we had too much fun." She ran back to the main building to get ready.

Within the hour the first of the guest arrived. Aya and her father greeted people as they were welcomed to the party. When everyone had arrived they all took their seats in the banquet hall. Lord Hirano took the seat at the head of the table as this was his home and Aya sat beside him in a soft peachy pink kimono. A few steps behind her leaning against the wall was her ever loyal and faithful guard, Toji.

There were only 4 guests. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Inumaki. But between all six, polite chatter and conversation flowed. Gojo who was seated closest to the Hime continued trying to bring the birthday girl into conversation. Aya would respond of course but would let herself drop out again as soon as possible much more preferring to listen than speak. Eventually Geto began telling his friend to stop bothering her making her give him a shy smile. "It's alright, I'm used to being overlooked in conversations and prefer to just listen. It's interesting the things you hear."

Gojo's eyes lit up excitedly. "Spare some juicy gossip." The Snow White haired man asked making Aya cover the lower half of her face to hide a grin.

"I would Gojo San but I much prefer to keep my secrets to myself." She responded back playfully. This lead to the two beginning to banter and eventually her speaking more with Geto too.

Her father had to take his leave before long. He kissed the top of his daughter's head and wished that she carry on with the festivities. At the same time Inumaki excused himself having not intended to stay long.

Conversation carried on until the doors to the hall were opened harshly.

Aya paused with her cup of tea halfway to her lips as she looked up. Naoya Zenin. Her lip curled at the corner before becoming impassive.

"Ara ara, it's seems my Invite got lost in the mail, Hime." He said. "I hope I haven't missed too much of the party." He closed his eyes giving a fake smile. "Ah where is the Diamyo?"

Before Aya could answer Nanami beat her to it with the same cool tempered voice he usually used. "Lord Hinaro had already retired for the night."

"Ah that's too bad I was hoping to speak with him after the party about my propositions." He said cockily sitting down at the opposite head of the table. A seat that had been left open all night out of respect.

Aya clenched the teacup saucer too tightly and it began to snap under her fingers. The sound caused the attention to again be brought to her. "I apologize." She said flicking the glass out from between her fingers. Dark red pearled at the tip of her thumb.

From the side lines, Gojo and Geto looked at each other in interest. Before sitting back to see how it would all play out. Nanami flicked his glasses higher and focused as well.

"Careful Hime, flowers like you need to be more careful." The Zenin said, his words dripping with condensation.

Aya didn't have to turn her head to see that Toji had stepped closer to her and bringing Naoya's attention to him.

"Ah I see you still keep that trash around, Hime-" before the Zenin could say more, Aya had flicked the last few pieces of glass directly at him while he blinked. The small pin sized shards cut the male's eyebrow, cheek and neck and blood began to drip from his cuts.

"Careful Naoya, you may be a Zenin but you are still in my father's territory. Speak to him like that again and I will have you removed." Aya spoke in a cold voice that dripped with venom making the Zenin flinch. Aya then stood from her pillow and brushed the glass off her kimono with a sweeping hand before shaking her head with a soft chuckle. "I changed my mind." She started softly before turning cold again. "Get out or I will have my guard personally escort you out."

"I'm not scared of some powerless freak." Naoya taunted making himself more comfortable.

By now all the tables occupants and the few servants in the room were paying attention. The men at the table each kept silent, none had actually met The Daimyo's daughter before today and were eager to see what she would do. "I see, if that's the case then you should be more worried about me."

"Hah! What can a girl like you do..." Naoya bragged.

Aya moved to go toward the Zenin and Toji came closer gently holding the back of her elbow, stopping her. She turned her head to face him with a bright smile while being obviously angry. "Ah, it's okay Toji." She said and the Male nodded back. One second she was there and the next she was holding Naoya's head back by his hair. The man's eyes were lit momentarily with fear before Aya slammed his head into the table and effectively breaking his nose.

The Zenin didn't know what to hold first, the Hime wrist to make her let go or his broken nose. The woman turned and began to forcibly drag him out of the hall by his hair before throwing him out the dining hall doors.

"See that he is taken off the property and returned home. If I see him on the property again I will personally punish those responsible." Aya ordered before brushing her hands against her kimono to smooth any wrinkles and calmly walked back to the dining hall.

"I'm sorry for that disruption. Let's carry on if possible." The Hime said bowing to her guest before making her way back to her seat.

"Hime-Chan. If you don't mind me asking, what have the Zenin proposed that has you so...furious?" Gojo asked leaning his head against his propped arm with a coy smile.

Aya set down her now cold cup of tee with a disproving huff. "It's not polite conversation." She said dismissively.

"I don't think we'd mind." Geto encouraged.

"Very well. I have a general if not extensive hate for their clan. Not just the people but also the way it is run. While most clans have kept tradition, the Zenin are fanatical. The boys are raised to believe they're better than anyone else and the girls are treated like cattle." She paused, before breathing out from her nose to control her anger. "Their proposition is that I be gifted to them as a concubine in return they do not kill someone dear to me. They have also threatened to kill my father and take me anyway. As far as I'm concerned I'd rather see their clan burnt to the ground."

Aya stood from the table again. "Like I said, it is not polite conversation. If you'll excuse me I need some fresh air." Aya bowed before leaving again out another door, this time her silent guard behind her.

When the two were far enough away from earshot, Aya leaned into the guard. "Naoya fucking Zenin! He just couldn't help himself and had to ruin a perfectly good party and now... now." She stoped unable to say more as Toji began to run his fingers down her back in a calming manner. "It's just not fair! You're stronger than the whole lot of them and they still look down on you."

"I don't care."

"I do! Those fucking psychopaths deserve to rot in shallow graves." Aya hissed in contempt. The moon catching her eyes as they glowed.

"It's fine." Toji again tried abating the rising explosive anger of the Hime.

This time she stepped away from him to stare him down. "No it is not. You are my blade, my dearest friend and only confidant. A threat to you is a threat to me, and I do not take their threats lightly. They have a bounty on your head." Small particles and rocks began to float behind the Hime. Toji frowned at the sight, the last time she got angry she exploded half the yard before being calmed down. "I should have their clan leader's head on a spike the way he treats you. You were dismissed from the clan years ago and they still see fit to threaten and order you around."

"Princess." He said softly getting her attention.

"What!"

Toji moved closer taking both her hands in his as he rested his chin over her head. Like a chain reaction her shoulder began to sink as she sagged into his chest. Exhaling a visible cloud as she calmed down. Everything floating fell back to the ground.

"I don't want to loose you." She said slowly putting her anger into soft words. Hands clenching his as she nudged the underside of his jaw. "It's not fair when you do that ya know." She pouted.

"But it works." Toji said playfully. Using his chin he tucked her head closer to him. "Would you like to return to your party or retire for the night?"

"Could we just stay like this a little longer. I'm too worked up to sleep and I don't want to socialize much more tonight. But I should still wish my guests good night or I would be a bad host." Toji nodded before escorting Aya back to the hall.

"I'm sorry gentlemen for so many disruption this evening. But I must bid you good night, you are all free to stay the night if needed and will be provided rooms." I moved to leave the room again when Gojo spoke. "Is there a chance we can carry this party over till breakfeast. You hadn't even opened your presents." He said the last part in a childish whine that made me smile tiredly.

"We will see in the morning."

Nanami left quickly after breakfast but Gojo and Geto stayed until dinner time and left after with promises to visit more often. I had liked the two. Gojo was childish but funny and Geto was quite intelligent, he liked the idea of talking to someone on the same level as him. In his own words he called Gojo a 'good for nothing airhead.' I had to chuckle remembering the offended face Gojo gave back.

The next four years followed in a same routine with either Gojo or as he preferred I call him, Satoru, and Geto, preferring Suguru, coming over. Satoru called them play dates like we were still children.

"Toji?"

"Yes princess."

"Can we go into town today?"

"Is there something we need?"

"Yes..."

We walked around town together gathering supplies for the garden and for training. I also gathered supplies to make sweets later, knowing that Satoru and Suguru would be coming over the day after tomorrow to spend two nights. I could honestly say the friendship shared was something I treasured.

In the four years since we met the Zenin had continued to threaten, even going as far as having a guard be impersonated as they tried to kidnap me. Another time they had tried assassinating Toji. I had never been so angry and if it weren't for Him I would've gone to their compound and started a war.

"Hime, is there anything else we need?" Toji asked with his hand resting on the back of my elbow to get my attention.

"Your birthday is soon, yes? You're going to be turning- 30." I paused to be sure I did the math right. He nodded and I smiled, "is there anything you want for your birthday? Maybe the day off to woo a wife?" I teased turning to face him and walked backwards.

"Princess." He groaned in distaste.

"It's an honest question, Toji. Not once since you've been my guard have you ever been on a date. It may not be up there with taking down your clan but you should give it a thought." I turned back around to continue walking. "While I enjoy having you as my guard and I by no means want to ever replace you, you shouldn't have to stay by my side forever. You deserve to be happy Toji." I said the last part quietly.

Toji looked at the princess as she walked with a slight bounce. He didn't want some crummy wife. He didn't want to woo women. What he wanted was walking three steps ahead and didn't care for that kind of thing. She didn't want a husband or a suitor. She hated the idea of concubines.

She was loud and spirited and joyful. She was so quick to defend him at any inconvenience, she didn't sweat the small stuff but she was always planning something. She wasn't shy of training and would give everything while still having fun. She cooked his favorite meals when he was quiet and joked with him until he'd laugh. She was stubborn and didn't stand down from what she believed. But if she knew she was wrong, she didn't argue or complain, instead asking to be told why. She was his light and he wanted to protect her as much as she did for him. And it seemed like every time he was catching up he was falling back behind.

She turned around again and Toji steeled his face. The smile she was giving him was different than her usually soft ones, this one was teasing. "Are you sure you're into women? Because if your not I could always ask Satoru if he kn—" Toji threw his hand over her mouth to stop her teasing. From under his hand he could feel her smile stretch into a big grin as her eyes sparkled with mischief. She had been spending too much time with Gojo.

He must've been really out of it from her teasing or maybe he was just tired but. Quickly Aya moved his hand down and pulled on it making him stumble so his face was closer to hers. Nose to nose her grin was wider and her words took on a higher pitch. "Are you really sure?"

Toji wanted to pull his hand away and shove her off, call her a brat before ordering they return home. But he didn't do that. Because they were nose to nose and he could smell the shampoo she used, see her eyes as they caught the light. Could feel the warmth of her breath against his lips. Why does she make everything so damn difficult!

He moved his hand away and flicked her forehead, distracting her enough that he could regain composure. "Just for teasing me we're going back early." He demanded making her pout.

"Welcome back Satoru, Suguru, just in time, lunch will be ready very soon!" The Hime greeted them as they got off their horses. A few steps behind was her ever loyal guard. The two men gave a short bow to the Hime before following her into the compound.

As they walked Satoru threw his arm over the Hime's shoulder with a playful grin, "what sweets did ja make this time?"

"You'll see." She said secretively. Her head moved to face Toji with a smile, "can we take lunch outside this afternoon?"

Lunch passed and they continued to lounge outside until storm clouds came to disrupt the fun. Despite Toji and Suguru wanting to return inside, Satoru and the Hime ran and played in the rain with smiles. With a secretive smile the Hime manipulated the ground under Satoru and he slipped in the mud, landing on his face.

The Hime clenched her stomach as she burst with laughter at the mud covered male. With a smile, Satoru held his arms out for a hug before chasing the Hime around the garden.

During dinner they all ate together inside as the weather had not let up any. When dinner was over they each separated to their respective rooms.

After a loud bolt of thunder the Hime woke up with a gasp. Her room was dark but with each strike of lightning the room was illuminated for a second. Someone was in her room. The next lightning strike she met her assailant head on with one of the weapons she hid in her room. She wanted to scream for Toji but the rain was so loud. After dealing with the man in her room she grabbed her coat and ran out her room to find Toji and her father. "Toji!"

Turning a corner she rammed into a chest and not knowing who it's was she took a fighting stance. "It's me, Hime." Suguru said reaching blindly for her hand.

"Sugu?" She jumped toward him in a quick hug. "There was a man in my room, I don't think he was alone."

"He's not, Satoru and Toji are dealing with some more outside."

"We need to find father." Aya said grabbing his hand and pulling him toward her father's chambers. When they got to the room they saw the side door leading outside was broken down, blood on the paper of the door. Suguru tried stopping her from running out the house but he too was a little shocked.

She slipped out of his hand and ran into the storm. A light haired boy brought down a blade on the Daimyos chest causing him to scream. "Father!!" Aya screamed running to the scene. Rocks and small pieces of dirt began to float around her as she ran. The light haired boy ran and seemingly disappeared into nothing. Aya got to her father first and held his hand while checking him over. "It's just a scratch. It's okay. You'll be okay, right?"

"My dearest daughter, *cough* beware the challenges you now face."

"No no, we're gonna face them together, right!? You still have to help me find a place in this world! Don't!"

"I loved your mother so much *cough* that nothing else mattered until we had you. She would be so happy to see how strong you are.... We love you, Aya." He gave a final cough before going still.

"No." That one word was said quietly and after that everything stood still, the rain stopped falling as it halted mid air. Suguru who was standing behind her on the defensive looked around himself in surprise, was this her?

From the other side of the compound Toji looked at the sky in shock and slight fear. He cursed before ignoring his opponent entirely to run to where Aya was. There was only one reason she could be this distraught.

Suguru tried hugging the Hime, anything to help her calm down. But he could practically taste the cursed energy as the air became heavier with it. He backed up in fear as the feeling was overwhelming.

"Hime!" A voice shouted from across the yard.

More and more things were being ripped from the ground as they began to float alongside her. The garden shed was one thing as it was brought into the air in pieces, her favorite tree to follow. He's dead! He's dead.he's dead.he's dead.He's dead. It repeated in near loop only causing her more distress. No sounds could be heard aside from the sound of her own voice in her head. She didn't feel the hands grabbing at her tightly, begging her to look at him. Her head lolled before her eyes met his.

"He's dead." She whispered so brokenly and then everything began exploding. Everyone ducked and Toji covered her with his body. Her arms came around his neck as she buried her face in his shoulder and began to cry. Each time she hiccuped something else would explode near them but despite that not once was any of them hit by debris. When the explosions died down all three men looked around to see the area was destroyed and partly on fire.

Gojo was the first to speak, "what the hell was that?!" His six eyes were being overwhelmed from the onslaught of colours and cursed energy in the air

"Her." With that simple word both Gojo and Geto looked down at you passed out. "You may use your cursed technique and call it a blessing oh 'honored one' but she doesn't have that luxury. At her worst she could kill you without intent and your six eyes could never save you." Toji pulled her into his chest to hold her, one hand going under her legs and the other supporting her neck before standing to carry her back inside.

Part two to follow soon HERE!

[levantesdrawings]

Illustration for a Ronin AU I've had in mind for a while. (Please, click on it for better resolution.) (Sasuke has long hair in memory of Itachi.)

Some Au snippets here. I'm still working on it. 😺

There will surely be innacuracies despite my efforts, I apologize in advance. 😿 And yes, there are some Romeo and Juliet vibes, I know. 😹

The Uchiha Clan (a poweful Samurai clan) fell out of favor with the Daimyo, who feared their growing fame among the population, and was therefore disbanded. This led to the Uchiha rebellion against the Daimyo and other loyal clans but of course ended in a massacre and Itachi's death on the battlefield in the attempt to stop the conflict.

Left for dead by his opponents, Sasuke managed to drag himself away from the battlefield and began a life as a ronin. The last of his clan, with nothing but pain and despair, he swore that one day he would get his revenge.

But the loss of his family and his people was not the only wound that Sasuke suffered. With the Uchiha rebellion the betrothal with Hinata Hyuga, daughter of one of the most noble clans in the nation, was broken.

At the beginning of their engagement they knew nothing about each other., but Hinata quickly won Sasuke's heart with her patience and kindness. Some time after the massacre, it was to her that he returned in the dead of night, when the pain and despair became too heavy a burden to bear.

They truly fell in love during those stolen moments, with Sasuke not knowing that the Hyuga were secretly a Shinobi clan and that there was an order from the Daimyo to the Hyuga Clan to track him down and kill him. This is because his body was not found on the battlefield. Something that Hinata never did, warning him instead.

[signalburst]

Shōgun Historical Shallow-Dive: Part 2 - Heir Crash Investigations

What happened to Ochiba no kata and Yaechiyo, the Heir, in history? This was the most requested topic for part two. Get ready for failson psych-outs, drag-king, diss-track action. None of that is a joke.

There is a very simple version of this story, and a very complicated version of this story. I'll try and split the difference, but again, if you're interested, best English-language high level overview of the period that is not horribly out of date.

Again! Not a professional historian, never did my PhD, so my opinion is going to colour this.

The simple version: Ochiba no kata in the Shōgun show is quite a departure from the historical Yodo-dono or Chacha. She did a lot of political manouvreing to try and get her son to regain the pre-eminent position in Japan, but ultimately lost out to Tokugawa's overwhelming political and military strength. Nobody knows if she died or escaped at the end of the siege of Osaka castle in 1615 (15 years after the show), so there are lots of cool folk tales about her.

The more complicated version:

Ochiba is depicted as a sneaky, conniving, scary lady who scratches out fate's eyes. Why? Short version, whilst she was a major magnate and power player during the period of the show and after, she was not a brilliant schemer. She also wasn't crazy malicious - she was trying to keep her son alive. Most of her plans came undone because of incompetence, not being a puppet master who bent men to her will with veiled seduction and threats. That's a later invention. (We'll come back to it at the end).

She was the dictator Koroda's (Oda Nobunaga's) niece, not his daughter. As far as is known, her and Mariko's real life counterpart, Hosokowa Gracia, did not hang out.

The real life Ochiba, Yodo-dono, became a nun after the Taiko (Toyotomi Hideyoshi) died. So... less sultry and cat-like, more pious, still an excellent political operator.

She stayed out of the war between the Regents and Toranaga/Tokugawa, and did send a letter to Toranaga/Tokugawa saying the Heir would remain neutral. This allowed the Eastern forces under Toranaga/Tokugawa to present Ishido/Ishida's mobilisation and war footing as rebellion against the Heir, and the Taiko's wishes.

After Sekigahara, Tokugawa (we're past the book now) claimed that he would be 'as a father' to the Heir - real name, Toyotomi Hideyori. Most of the Heir's former fervent supporters embraced the Tokugawa reign.

He didn't hate the Heir or want to knife him in his sleep. 'It must be emphasised that Ieyasu himself bore Hideyori no personal ill will. Although he had once been enemies with Hideyori's father, Ieyasu was sensible enough to acknowledge Hideyoshi's [the Taiko's] unique genius. He acted kindly towards the late Taiko's child.' (Chaplin, 511).

So how did they end up coming to blows? Ochiba no kata's real-life inspiration, Yodo-dono, was deeply suspicious of Toranaga/Tokugawa. She had her pride - expecting her son to inherit the Realm and all - and she was an excellent political operator in her own right. She wouldn't roll over and let Toranaga/Tokugawa throw all these plans away because of one battle between Regents. She stayed out of it to keep her options open.

Tokugawa was well on his way to implementing his unification of the realm plans, post-Sekigahara. He demanded that she and her son go to Kyoto to show they were good and loyal vassals. Yodo-dono refused on behalf of her, and her son, intuiting (correctly) that the Heir paying homage to Tokugawa would ruin what was left of the family claim. This certainly raised an eyebrow amongst the magnates who'd survived the civil war. To Tokugawa, this woman needed watching, as she was clearly not going to just accept that her son was just another daimyo now.

Once Tokugawa was made Shōgun, he installed one of his lackeys in Osaka castle to keep an eye on Yodo-dono/Ochiba, and the Heir. The lackey reported for a decade that the Heir was essentially 'effeminate' (his words) and a failson.

Tokugawa was fine with this. He was busy building a unified empire. He'd married his granddaughter-in-law to the Heir, and given away most of the Toyotomi (ex-Taiko) lands after the battle to lords that flipped to his side.

As far as Osaka went- Yodo-dono and the Heir - Tokugawa was, characteristically, waiting to see what would happen. He was hoping the whole Toyotomi 'remember how the Heir's dad was Taiko?!' thing would fade with time. Wishful thinking, but maybe the son of his late master would accept the way things were now.

Between 1601-1611, Tokugawa Ieyasu hadn't made up his mind to destroy the Toyotomi. After all, most of his ex-rivals were now scrambling to impress him by contributing the most money to ruinous castle-building programs he ordered, in order to keep them broke and squabbling amongst each other. Maybe Yodo-dono would guide the Heir to do the same?

Ding dong, daddy wants to check on his main political rival's kid! Tokugawa Ieyasu eventually remembered the Heir was still alive, and requested a meeting. Yodo-dono requested three Tokugawa hostages (three of Ieyasu's own sons!) before she'd agree to the meeting. She knew who he was, and she knew now what he was capable of.

Uh oh! In 1611, Tokugawa met the now 18-year-old Heir at a neutral castle and found him strapping, manly, and charismatic. His lackey had been lying to him! It turns out, the lackey keeping watch on Yodo-dono and the Heir had a soft spot for the Taiko, and had been deliberately telling Tokugawa not to worry about his son to try and prevent conflict. But this kid was dangerous. Dangerously awesome. If he impressed Tokugawa, there was a good chance he'd impress other busho and daimyo, drawing them to a faction to oppose the new Tokugawa rule.

Rulers hate him! This little moron used time shut away in a castle to develop into a political threat!

It was at this point Tokugawa made up his mind to destroy Yodo-dono (her son's chief counsellor, and the political force behind a growing anti-Tokugawa movement), as well as the Heir. If you've read any history, a leader cementing power can't let remnants of the old regime hang around to act as a magnet for opposition. Especially if they are impressive and cool - Tokugawa was blown away by the boy's charisma and charm. So Tokugawa needed an excuse to take out the Heir. Any old excuse would do.

The excuse was lame, and arcane. The Heir's dad was famous for a sword hunt. Basically, the Taiko was a peasant who became a general who became a samurai, and wanted to pull the ladder up behind him. No non-samurai would be allowed weapons. No one was allowed class mobility anymore. You were what you were born, suck it, and a big part of that was confiscating weapons to ensure no more uprisings... like the Taiko had been a part of.

But because the Taiko was all about glitz, glamour, and what we'd now call virtue signalling, he was going to melt all of these swords down into a giant Buddha! It was a pious thing, honest! This buddha would be located at a temple called Hoko-ji.

It's 1614, and Yodo-dono has gathered a network of anti-Tokugawa daimyo, busho, and - importantly - samurai. Many samurai had been left masterless (ronin) after Sekigahara. Even those with lords had been transformed overnight from professional warriors to bureaucrats (we'll get to this in a later part). They were restless, out of work, and they flocked to her banner for the chance to get paid for their skills again, and lose the stigma of being masterless. With his ranks swelling, the Heir looked more and more like a viable political contender.

The Toyotomi, under Yodo-dono, with Hideyori as the pretty dashing figurehead, began to throw their weight around. They rebuilt Osaka castle's fortifications, and they forged a bell at Hoko-ji temple funded by the proceeds of Father's Great Sword Hunt. It wasn't any old bell though. It was a diss bell. Read in a certain way, the kanji inscription on the bell could be interpreted as breaking the Tokugawa in two, and 'may the Toyotomi rise... again?'

Tokugawa sent an envoy to Yodo-dono, asking that, given this insult, she and the Heir might consider relocating to another province. Say, a less central, less jewel-in-the-crown-with-an-impregnable-castle province. It'd help make up for the insulting bell, after all. The veiled threat was not very veiled. 'Leave while I give you the chance.'

This drew the battle-lines between those who still held out loyalty to the Taiko's clan (or who just hated the Tokugawa), and the Shōgun's forces. The former flocked to Osaka Castle and dug in.

That was enough for Tokugawa, who laid siege to Osaka Castle. Well, he was very old now, so he let his son - the Shōgun whose dad told him what to do - lead the siege. Assaulting the castle was a logistical nightmare, but luckily for Tokugawa and his fledgling Shōgunate, they outsourced much of the work to the lords who had pledged allegiance to the new regime (read: almost all of them). Keeping these lords poor - say, through funding hugely expensive military endeavours - was one of the ways Tokugawa Ieyasu and heirs exerted control. Ieyasu sat on a hill in a comfy tent while others bled gold (and blood) to build the expensive siege works and start the assault.

There were two sieges. One kinda worked, the second wasn't really a siege, but that's what they're called in the sources 🤷

The first siege was very much carrot-and-the-stick. Archers would loose arrows into the castle, with scrolls wrapped around the shafts, requesting the Toyotomi surrender. Politely. Poetically. It didn't work.

Tokugawa Ieyasu (Toranaga) tried bribing famous commanders inside the castle, including famed hunk-hero and coverboy of the Samurai Warriors games, Sanada Yukimura. He told Tokugawa to go fuck himself. Tokugawa tried bribing another general, who considered it, was discovered, and beheaded in Osaka Castle to encourage the others. 🙃

Yodo-dono started dressing up in samurai armor and walking the walls, in full view of the besieging armies. Her son's forces found this 'both unnerving... and condescending.' She was acting like a general, which pissed the generals off. She was also accidentally undermining her now-adult son, and sapping confidence from those who'd pledged to his banner. Read the room, lady. This doesn't seem to be malicious - this was just her first experience actually wielding power in an armed conflict. 'Although she feigned the image of a warlike Virago, she was in fact a cloistered and rather narrow-minded woman who understood little of what went on outside of her castle. As such, Ieyasu knew that she could be manipulated when the time came.'

What's the best way to manipulate someone? Fire cannon at them!

'And now for my most cunning plan. Blowing her up.'

Tokugawa ordered his son to focus cannon fire on the living quarters of Osaka Castle. Yodo-dono's quarters. Twice a day, every day. They were using cannon seized from Portuguese ships, and the gun-crews are likely to have been using training manuals originally drawn up by our old friend, the English pilot. He was off living his best life in Edo at the time. But he trained accurate gunners - one round shot hit Yodo-dono's quarters and nearly killed her. While she and her ladies were having tea. The gall.

This was enough for her. She ordered her son to make terms with the Tokugawa. This wasn't worth dying for.

'Ugh, stop wrecking all my shit you fucking swine. That teapot was from Muji!' - Yodo-dono, 1615

Siege over! Can we be friends? Well, it's hard to go back from that. Tokugawa Ieyasu offered Hideyori/the Heir (well, really, his mom) two options: either Yodo-dono goes to Edo as a hostage to their family's good behaviour, or they agree to fill in the moat of Osaka Castle, making it less a fortress and more of a nice, big, open-plan house.

Option 2 was agreed, and Ieyasu issued a treaty document sealed with his own blood. The very obvious implication - don't fucking break it.

The Heir and Yodo-dono fucking broke it.

Urged on by his mother, Hideyori began to gather ronin (masterless samurai) back to his banner, re-dig the filled in moats, and gathered 120,000 fighting men to Osaka Castle. I forgot to mention how big this siege was, sorry. It was huge. And wouldn't you know it, many of these fighters were būsho, samurai, and ashigaru who were Christian. They saw the way the wind was blowing, and that the Tokugawa were getting wise to Portuguese intentions towards Japan. This might be their last chance (spoiler: it was).

The second siege (called the Summer Siege) began. From the Heir's side, it was much more ambitious than the first. The boy general, son of the Taiko, wanted to seize Kyoto, declare Tokugawa a traitor to the Emperor, and go on the offensive.

Unfortunately, like Sekigahara, many of the forces gathered in Osaka were there to oppose Tokugawa, rather than fight for one unified purpose. The war councils generally ended with disunity, and Yodo-dono kept interfering, which really, really was starting to wear thin with the Heir's vassals and allies. And the Heir himself. Imagine your mom turning up to work every day after you'd got a big promotion (Leader of the Western Armies). Not only that, your mom is literally coming to work in cosplay. The poor kid.

Long story short - Hideyori, the Heir, had no military experience. In a much-mythologised, last-of-its-kind battle between actual samurai - before they hung up their swords and became indentured bureaucrats - the Heir risked it all. His plan to sally forth and fight the armies of the Shōgun failed. They were beaten back by a contingent of 150,000 warriors under the Shōgunate, commanded by Ieyasu's son, Hidetada.

Key commanders were killed during the offensive, the Osaka forces lacked unity and cohesion (Sekigahara called, it wants its overarching lesson back). The Heir retreated back into Osaka Castle, but they didn't have a contingency plan and had few defences and obstacles established. The castle came under massive bombardment and constant infantry assault. The entire castle caught fire.

(Side note: a primary source written by a Dutch trader at the time said that generals loyal to the Heir set the castle on fire themselves, hoping to win favour with the Shōgun. Apparently, Hideyori discovered this and threw them off the ramparts into the flames. We'll probably never know whether that was true, but it's at least plausible.)

The Heir, Toyotomi Hideyori, and his mother, Yodo-dono - niece of Oda Nobunaga, most powerful concubine to the Taiko, most powerful woman in Japan - committed seppuku in the flames.

His body was found. Hers wasn't. You know what happens when this arises in history. There are folk legends that Yodo-dono escaped and lived a happy life in another province, but, hey, we all like a happy ending.

So if the inspiration for Ochiba no kata was a bit of a tone-deaf aristocrat nun who, whilst politically powerful, was not really a sexy, scary woman, how did we end up with Ochiba in the show?

After the Tokugawa defeated the Heir's forces, they had control of everything - eeeverything, including history books, plays, the works. What makes for a better story if you're on the winning side?

A mother was put in a terrible position when her husband, the ruler of the country, died. A group of men promised her husband they would place her son on the throne. One of them lied, stole the throne through force of arms and political savvy, and disinherited the son, despite the mother's best attempts. Her cause failed because she lacked the skills and authority to unify a movement, and her son was an untested youth who, in the end, just didn't have it.

The Heir's mother was an evil, scheming, sexually wanton (!) woman who destabilised the realm and got her son killed. She led them to disaster and without her, Tokugawa Ieyasu and the Heir would have gotten along fine! Her cause failed because she was a malicious harpy.

The Shōgunate chose option 2, and that's mostly the version we get in popular culture. It's hard to undo 260 years worth of character portrayal. Don't get me wrong, she was scheming, she was self-interested, but so was every major player in the period. She used her influence to gather support for her son, tried her best to overcome Toranaga/Tokugawa once she realised what he was, and she failed. To really send the moral message home, the Shōgunate cast her as a wicked woman, making her wickedness the reason she failed, not the complex factors that contributed to the downfall of the Taiko's clan.

So that's the story of Ochiba no kata's real life insiration, and what happened to the Heir - by far the most requested Part 2, and probably a bit depressing for Ochiba fans, unfortunately.

In Part 3, if there's any interest, we could look at the Dictator, the Taiko, and Toranaga and how they unified Japan, or we could look at a really interested question - what the hell happened for the 260 years of Tokugawa rule? How does it live on today (in some pretty dark ways) in the popular imagination? Your call.

[petriquors]

Maple & Steel

samurai!Iwaizumi x fem!reader angst

Pre-Edo Period royalty AU

The kami blessed you with a perfect day in your family’s garden, but you thank them with a restless heart. Seated under your favorite tree, a stunning maple with leaves as red as blood, your mind is anywhere but here.

You’ve read the same sentence in your book a dozen times, but you still can’t remember what it says. Every syllable drowns under the ominous swirl of your thoughts, so, with a sigh, you decide that reading is just as hopeless as you feel.

“What troubles you, my lady?”

When you look up, you see a man whose broad shoulders eclipse the low afternoon sun. The turquoise-and-white kamishimo he wears moves gently with every step, making him look like water flowing calmly over stones. 

On any other day, his presence would soothe you just as much as a walk by the river would. But today, Iwaizumi Hajime, the eldest son of his clan, is the last person you want to see.

The gentle breeze stills. Without it, the summer air hangs heavily around you, and silence buries the garden. 

Iwaizumi inclines his chin in your direction, peering down his nose at you. “Speak.”

“You would command me?” You smile through your threatening tone. You are the daimyo’s daughter, while he’s just a samurai’s son. If your father heard him speak to you that way, swift punishment would be in order.

If only your father knew about the romance you’ve been hiding from him.

You stand up, hiding your face in the shadows of the maple tree. Carefully, you eye Iwaizumi; watching, waiting for him to answer. On most days, he would respond to your coyness in kind, but today is not most days.

Today, a rift as wide as the sea lies between you, and you fear what you might find in his face when you cross the depths.

“Please,” he says gently, “tell me what’s on your mind.”

When Iwaizumi calls, you can’t help but answer. From the moment you met him as children, he’s known your heart well enough to see through lies and half-truths with frightening ease. “I heard your name on the war party roster. You’re going to travel at my father’s side.”

Though it was not a question, he still answers. “Yes.”

Your breath catches in your throat and tears sting your eyes. You knew it was true, but your heart still clenches when you hear it from his lips. “Congratulations.”

Riding with the daimyo is an incredible honor, but his eyes are full of dread. He looks away from you, searching for comforting words he cannot seem to find. “We ride west in the morning.”

“How far? How long?”

“Telling you might put you in danger,” he says.

“With whom?”

The stiffness of his upper lip is all the answer you’ll receive. You know that he’s right. He’s doing his best to protect you from the storm of war that gathers far to the west, but something more slices through your heart with a katana’s precision. 

You leave the maple tree’s shade and step into the sun, placing yourself within arm's reach of Iwaizumi. You watch his hands twitch at his side, see him internally weigh actions and consequences, duty and honor—and then, he seizes you by the hand.

You grip his arm. It’s sturdy, like a tree branch, so you wind your weak, vulnerable roots around him. In seconds, you’re captured in his embrace, planted firmly where your heart knows you belong.

When he grabs your face, neither the cool silk of his kimono nor the warmth of his fingertips can stop your tears. He holds you as gently as he would hold the head of a rose, with a touch so delicate that you barely feel him. You need more, you realize, as your longing overtakes you completely.

“I will not have you become a ghost,” you sob. 

A shaky breath flows from his lips, and you marvel at how well he manages to tame his emotions while yours are a raging ocean.

“I can’t protect you from this pain,” he whispers. You know his heart, too; he takes on your pain as if it’s his own, and counts every ounce of fear you feel as a personal failure.

You can't bear to look at him, so you let your tears soak his sleeve instead. A hum ripples from his chest and reaches your ears, shushing you as gently as a honed warrior possibly can.

With his free hand, he begins to stroke your hair. “Please, don’t cry for me. Sadness doesn’t suit your beauty.”

“But what if—”

“I would kill every cruel thought in your head if I could,” he interrupts. His voice has a sharp edge that makes you believe the threat wholeheartedly. “And then, I’d fill the space with sweet words instead.”

You sniffle. “Iwa—”

“I would write ten thousand songs for you. I would use ink and paper I made myself, so you can feel the patience of my love in every brush stroke. I would string together the words the kami whisper through the trees when I think of you. I would read them to you personally, reciting every word by your bedside until you grow sick of me.”

Finally, a smile tries to return to your face. You bite your lip, nuzzling his chest. “I could never grow sick of you.”

“Good,” he says. “Because I am nothing without your affection. When I ride west, when I raise my sword, I only do so to fight for a better future—one that you deserve.” 

The wind picks up, rustling the maple leaves and billowing through his kamishimo. You tilt your head to look at him, and you find red-rimmed eyes and a sad smile that’s full of love. Your heart beats like a butterfly’s wings.

“Wait for me,” he says

“Come home to me,” you reply.

“I will,” he says. “I promise, my love.”

[sagemoderocklee]

For The WiP Folder Game, I'd like to know (if nobady has already asked about it) about "The Beautiful Beast of Cāngdì" Thanks!

ohhhh im so excited you asked this one! ive been soooo eager to get this fic started and i keep almost doing so and then gettin sidetracked

so this is a magical creature AU! i got the prompt from a fic prompt blog like right after finishing Pearl-Filled Lungs, and since I'd just done that I wanted to do something different so I decided to do a dragon fic! in this fic, Lee is a dragon (based on Chinese dragons.)

the title is a play on Lee's epithet, Konoha's Beautiful Blue Beast, and Cāngdì comes from the Wǔfāng Shàngdì and means 'green deity' or 'green emperor'.

so far i have a summary of the overall fic and brief chapter-by-chapter summaries, along with chapter titles. this fic will be 9 chapters long based on the Chinese association of dragons and the number 9.

here is the majority of the summary i have:

Lee is a dragon, kidnapped from his home atop the eastern peak of Mount Cāngdì. He's young for a dragon, and thus small, and he cannot do most magic or fly making it easy to capture him. He was abducted by people in the exotic animal trade, who had been commissioned by the kaze daimyo. He had intended it as a gift for his daughter but she is scared of Lee, and so the daimyo uses it to boost his own ego, parading Lee out at formal events and political meetings and the like. On his 20th birthday, Gaara is sent to live in the daimyo's court at his father's behest. Rasa does not trust Gaara and hopes that the courts influence on his youngest will change his idealistic ways. Plus, Rasa is hoping for a political marriage between Gaara and the daimyo's daughter, something which Gaara has no interest in. One night, he stumbles upon Lee's prison. He tries to approach, but Lee doesn't trust him and Gaara is forced to leave. After that first night, Gaara goes back to Lee repeatedly to earn his trust, and eventually they develop a friendship. Gaara is the only person Lee has ever spoken to in all the years he's been imprisoned in the daimyo's palace[...]

anyways, im really excited to work on this fic and sad i dont have like a snippet i can share, but i do have the fic banner! thanks so much for the ask!

[lillymakesart]

So I have this idea for Spoiled Brat Mizu though it will unravel her perfect life.... But role assignments first. Master Eiji is her tutor, Ringo is the son of their head cook and is one of her besties, Taigen is....her bodyguard for a lack of a better term, Akemi is her friend and playmate when they were kids, also a spoiled little lady. Their dads are friends. Mizu is still excellent with the sword, although its mostly because she likes it and not for anything else. The only way Taigen got to stay as her bodyguard was because of all the samurai in all the schools, he was the one who lasted the longest when she challenged them. Story idea: An assasination attempt on her father (who is a daimyo) and while he doesn't die, he is gravely injured. Mizu goes on a path of revenge for her Dad and everyone tags along for the adventure. Ringo and Akemi because they think its fun. Taigen because he had to. She has none of the self-hatred. Just anger that someone tried to kill her father.

I came upon this thought while putting my daughter to sleep. LMAO.

im in love with this arc this plot this world building im BEGGING someone to please write the fic PLEEAASSSEEE

[jacksgreysays]

Primadonna Girl (needs papers, tickets, nerves of steel), (2024-03-25)

some additional lighter(-ish) additions to the bleak!primadonna AU (but still with some politics sprinkled in)

~

Primadonna Girl (fills the void up with celluloid)

~

“We’ve heard you’re the best blacksmith in town,” says the blandly smiling woman wearing a professional pantsuit that really shouldn’t work in the desert but somehow she’s pulling it off.

Even though Areki isn’t trying to hide the skepticism on her face, the woman’s bland smile does not budge an inch.

Sarcastically, she scans the vast, empty horizon that this tiny, nameless town barely interrupts. There is only one blacksmith in town. Frankly, this town is so small it shouldn’t even have one at all. It's not even big enough to be on most maps. Which is why Areki chose to set up shop here. Her response is as dry as their surroundings, “Thanks.”

Behind her manager, identity and amusement not at all concealed with her massive pair of mirrored sunglasses, is the best actress of their generation. What Kako Heijo is doing out in the middle of nowhere isn’t hard to guess—filming a movie, no doubt, with a ludicrous amount of explosions—but what she (or rather, her blandly professional manager) is doing talking to Areki is a mystery.

She sighs. “Can I help you?” she asks, because Areki isn’t keen on wasting time and it doesn’t seem like the other two women are in any rush to move the conversation along.

“Yes,” says the manager, words chosen slowly, as if she doesn’t have the full sentence yet, “we need…” She looks at Kako Heijo.

“Props,” says the most talented actress alive. Not too far away, Areki sees their film set—practically dwarfing the town—and the veritable army of production assistants unloading endless boxes of props.

“Props?” Again, Areki does not even bother trying to hide her skepticism.

Even her manager blinks, askance.

“Props,” repeats the international star of stage and screen.

“… yes. We need… props,” her manager confirms.

The silence is palpable.

Well, a commission’s a commission, and she has a child to feed. Areki sighs again, “What kind of props?”

—

(When the script allows, it really is best to film in the desert. An infinite sky, minimal scheduling and permit conflicts, and the Wind Daimyo is always eager to host globally acclaimed celebrities.

The fact that she chooses different areas of Land of Wind’s vast deserts, filling in the gaps of a long ago failed and abandoned search for the Godaime Kazekage, is just a coincidence. A matter of cinematography, really.

Anyway, only Shikako Nara would know that and she doesn’t exist anymore.)

—

“Kazekage-sama.”

“What now?” Kankurou snaps, looking up from the mountain of paperwork on the anchor of a desk in this prison of an office.

Jinzo, the secretary who actually runs the Kazekage’s office, shoots him a disapproving look. Well, whatever. Jinzo has never approved of Kankurou’s reign with the hat, only staying out of loyalty for the previous wearer, and it’s not like Kankurou even wanted the job anyway.

Behind Jinzo is the tiniest messenger genin, trembling as if they were in Land of Snow. Shit.

“You’re dismissed,” Jinzo murmurs to the messenger who flees with all haste, before he turns back to Kankurou, envelope in hand.

“What is it?” He doesn’t bother softening his tone, there can be no yielding from the Rokudaime Kazekage.

Jinzo doesn’t bother with it either. “An invitation.”

Ugh.

“Ugh, which councilor wants me to meet their suspiciously single, eligible daughter or granddaughter?”

“None of them.”

“None?” As if Jinzo hasn’t been tossing out the most audacious offers on a weekly basis.

“What I mean is,” he clarifies, “this particular invitation has nothing to do with that.”

There is an uncharacteristically hesitant pause.

“It’s for a movie premiere.”

Another uncharacteristic pause.

“A Kako Heijo movie.”

—

(There was a time when Kankurou was the least scary of his siblings, a mere puppeteer dreaming of show business, of reviving the dying arts of his culture. In comparison to his sister—eldest scion of the desert, Wind Mistress unmatched in the skies—and his brother—jinchuuriki and Wielder of the Cascading Sands—where was the threat in a fast talking, comedy relief?

But Kankurou doesn’t have siblings anymore, just like he doesn’t have any patience for people who think he’s the one at fault for his ascension staining Sunagakure a furious, ferrous red.)

—

“I’m not questioning your decisions,” Riku prefaces once she and her ward are in the relative privacy of their penthouse suite.

“That sounds like you’re about to question my decisions,” says the woman known world wide as Kako Heijo. Her eyes are sharp, but she gestures for Riku to continue anyway with an almost lenient air.

“I would never,” Riku says, blandly professional as always, “but I am curious about your reasoning behind the most recent addition to your retinue.”

“Our retinue,” corrects the preeminent multinational media darling.

“Kako Heijo’s retinue?” Riku counteroffers.

A considering hum, a nod, then another hand wave prompting Riku to continue.

“Do we really need a permanent props master that travels with us? One who has a child that also needs to travel with us?”

Riku’s responsibility shrugs. “I like knowing who makes my equipment. And I’m shocked, Riku, absolutely horrified,” she says, placidly, “I never took you for someone who would separate a parent from their child for financial reasons.”

She does not break in her professionalism.

“I am also wondering about your choice of VIP guest for the premiere.” Usually she never specifies anyone, letting Riku fill out the guest list based on her complex web of favors, social investments, and potential allies.

“He’s an important patron of the arts that resides in Land of Wind. What is there to wonder about? Surely it would be ruder not to invite him.”

She will not break.

“And plus,” adds the bane of Riku’s existence, “I heard he used to do stuff with puppets? Maybe I should introduce him to my prop master.”

She sighs, resigned. “And her child?”

“What a fascinating suggestion you’ve come up with, Riku!” says the exiled Nara clan heiress. “Yes, let’s do that.”

Riku is going to die from rage induced stress.

—

(Riku Sato used to go by a different name as well, but her duty has always been the same regardless.

If she knew forswearing the Genin Corps for advanced training in the Yamanaka clan arts would lead to this, she would rather have put up with a thousand D-rank missions to catch that fucking immortal hellcat)

~

A/N: I know as an artist you’re never supposed to point out the flaws in your own work, but I realize I should have had that middle section from Jinzo’s POV in order to make it… symmetrical? balanced?… with the other sections from Areki and Riku’s POVs. Really make it secondary characters looking in on the situation. But I just love writing Kankurou’s POV so much, I couldn’t help it TT_TT Also, this is roughly inspired by Mergen’s comments in response to the (this and that and everything, etc) installment of the ao3 port. Specifically, a brief theory that Souichi might be Shikako and Kankurou’s child, but the ages/math doesn’t really work out. BUT that did remind me of Shikadai’s cousins-that-aren’t and how, sadly, some of them wouldn’t exist. Or some of them would exist but not end up his cousins. However, one cousin in particular COULD have some interesting political ramifications (which is, you know, the whole point of this series) given he has Magnet Release and that was a major reason for Shikamaru being assassinated to begin with. I was considering Shikako finding Shinki when he’s recently orphaned (at nine, according to my Dreaming of S(haring the World) Shinki installment which ALSO has Kankurou) and then the two of them secretly training him in a sort of Anya to Anastasia (from the titular animated movie) type of con (that is less of a con and more a legitimate claim)… but that seemed pretty sketchy and also, like… surely SOMETHING in this bleak AU has to be better, slightly? So I made it such that one of Kako Heijo’s movies is filming near that town in the middle of nowhere before Shinki is nine which means Shikako can sense that there are TWO someones with Magnet Release, one of them being Shinki’s still alive mother :) Basically, this kind of solves the problem of Kankurou not having any children (thus making Shikadai his default heir) but it also adds some other problems in the sense that… well… both Areki and Shinki are untrained civilians and if some councilors who maybe didn’t fully internalize or maybe might have forgotten The Incident decide they’d rather be the power behind an untrained civilian Kazekage than one who is clever and bitter and suspicious of them… well… And then I figured I might as well flesh out Kako Heijo’s totally a civilian, blandly named manager since she’ll probably continue to make appearances in this AU. OVER A YEAR AND I CANNOT PUT THIS AU DOWN.