#empresssof

Send 🌸 for three things my muse likes about yours.

1. Her hair. Madara’s favorite color’s always been red. He won’t ever tell her but he thinks her hair is her best feature. Madara’s used to black-on-black, so it always catches his eye.

2. Her fuuinjutsu. The Uchiha have no tradition of fuuinjutsu or healing. Madara admires anyone who is capable of something he can’t do and sealing definitely fits the bill. He just doesn’t have the patience for the craftsmanship necessary. Regardless, he’d enjoy sitting down and watching her work.

@empresssof

Tears burn in Kushina’s eyes, but she forces herself to be brave and hold them in. Her hands clench around the fabric of Mito’s robe.

“Mito-oba,” she says, her voice strained. “It’s alright. I’ll be alright.”

If she tells herself often enough, with enough conviction, she may just start to believe it. In this odd village, Mito is the only person she can trust. She is a member of her clan, family.

She closes her eyes to keep the tears from spilling, smiling the biggest smile she is capable of while still being genuine. 

                     @9sik​ / @empresssof  said:      “rulers make bad lovers.”

    ENSCONCED  BENEATH        the  leafy  canopy  of  a  towering  tree  at  the  foot  of  the  thrashing  river  that  cut  through  Uzushio,    Hashirama  had  asked  of  Mito  her  honest  opinion  on  the  murmurings  of  their  respective  people.    the  pressure  of  duty  seemed  to  suffocate  their  brief  meetings  nowadays,    unable  to  be  seen  together  in  the  public  eye  without  the  necessity  of  their  union  for  the  benefit  of  either  clan  being  forcefully  insinuated.     it  embarrassed  and  irritated  him,     each  instance  infuriating  him  more  that  the  last  not  only  for  the  interruption  of  their  sparse  visits  for  the  sake  of  ambition  but  because  he  thought  of  Mito  as  more  than  a  pawn  caught  in  the  continuous  power  struggle  he  had  inherited.       she  was  a  dear  friend  and  ally,       someone  he  respected  for  her  great  skill  and  intellectual  prowess.    

had  she  not  also  a  mind,  a   heart,   and  a  voice  of  her  own  with  which  to  speak  ?  the  fact  this  affair  seemed  more  a  matter  of  when  he  would  decide  to  marry  than  if  she  would  even  entertain  the  thought  did  not  sit  well  with  him  at  all.     he  remembers  how  his  own  mother’s  wedding  bed  had  become  her  eventual  grave,    marriage  to  a  man  as  ruthless  as  Senju  Butsuma  more  a  death  sentence  than  a  privilege.     though  he  made  a  point  to  diverge  completely  from  the  monster  his  father  had  been,      he  did  not  want  Mito  to  submit  to  a  life  she  did  not  ask  for.       thus,   he  understands  the  flicker  of  distaste  that  steels  her  sharp  eyes  before  her  apprehensive  response  is  given.  it  even  makes  him  laugh,    the  sound  of  it  too  boisterous;    a  disruption  of  the  easy  silence  they  had  previously  adopted. 

* wordless prompts

Lips tip up into a smile. It’s biting and you can see a small glint of her teeth. She presses the blade of the dagger gently against her palm testing it’s sharpness. It stings as at it cuts a thin slice of skin, proving how a single swip could cause a bloody mess. She pulls the knife away from her palm. “I prefer hand to hand combat Grandmother.” Tsunade mentions yet still gets into a position to show off the skills she’s developed.

Tsunade twirls the dagger in her hand, it glints in the afternoon sun. She lunges forward, twisting her body lightly and marking the object in front of. Pulling away she takes a moment to admire her work before going again at a series of slashes, lunges, and twists. A moment later her grip loosens and slips, hand comes sliding along a blade. Blood mixes with the sheen of sweet and Tsunade feelings the burning sensation of pain radiating from the deep slice.

@empresssof

She knew that. Kushina did. She knew it with every look thrown her way, every comment made behind hands covering mouths. She knew it deeply, so much so that it ached thinking that, for just a moment, she had managed to forget.

Minato was to blame for this, with his kind words and pleasant smiles. Whenever Kushina lashed out, he was there, watching. In fact, he was watching her even when she sat quietly. But Kushina didn’t mind it with him since it was different from when everyone else did it. She felt no maliciousness but genuine interest. Had she been wrong to think it mattered?

Pressing her mouth shut, Kushina nodded. She tried a smile. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. It’s not home.”