IT’S WEDDING TIME!!!
Bunny, Yume , Ruitō, Osamu, Nana, Yoshi, Masae, Sovereign, Akiko, Aika, Πασιθεα, Junna, Haruto, Tsukiko, Touma (and, just incase you guys wanted to get a post in: Aosagi, Makara, Chinatsu, Gekirin, Hideo Fujiwara, Kaguya)

As requested via discord, Izumi will reference those who’ve requested to be NPC.

Please allow Osamu, the groom, and Nana, the wedding’s priestess, to post first!

The next round will begin on 10/15!

As Empress, Izumi had prepared herself for many things. Potential plagues, family feuds, food shortages, foreign tensions….and even another, meaningless death to start her back on square one. Never had she prepared for the day she would soon be someone’s wife — and after that, someone else’s mother.

It showed by the way her pale gaze shyly fell to her feet as she walked down that pathway, surrounded by family and the dynasty itself. She didn’t know when it’d happened, but her cheeks had turned a pale shade of pink — Izumi; a blushing bride. — Who would’ve ever predicted the day? She always seemed to put on a brave face in even the toughest situations, but as she strode slowly towards Osamu with Aika by her side — flowers decorating her fur — bravery was a feat she could not preform today. Couldn’t have been; not with the film of moisture that had begun to blur her vision.

When she’d finally make her way to the alter, there he’d been: her silvered moon. The love of her life, and to find something so rare on a day she never predicted….her heart couldn’t help but thunder within her chest with anticipation. Fear. Happiness. A warm, fond smile tugged at her lips as tears flowed gently down her cheeks.

It was hopeless.

Osamu stared at his reflection in the water, frowning at his disheveled appearance. No matter how hard he tried, his wiry coat seemed to resist every effort at smoothing it down, the tangled fur about his cheeks proving particularly defiant - and today, of all days.

It was all like a strange, lucid dream. Even now he sometimes still woke with a start, reliving some dark memory in the echoing halls of sleep, fur bristled and teeth bared at a threat only he could perceive. Yet the waking world always greeted him with an enduring peace each morning, the scent of wisteria mingling with the sea as he opened his tired eyes to breathe deep of this new life... and glimpse Izumi resting close by.

He had never meant for this to happen.

They'd met by chance an entire world ago, a lone Empress seeking to rebuild from the ashes of her family's legacy; she had seemed so fearsome even then, her delicate features sharp and determined. Osamu himself had only freshly awoken then, having perished in his previous body and finding himself more than a little surprised not to still have an Oni's sword embedded within his chest.

It had made sense.

She had made sense.

Izumi Fujiwara would be his redemption, his second chance; where he had failed once, he never would again. Osamu had sworn himself as her mentor and protector, and the days quickly turned to months as they journeyed together and rebuilt her dream into what was now the great Fujiwara Dynasty - yet in spite of all his strength, he could not suppress the warm feelings that began to stir in his heart.

Months turned to years, and that warmth stoked into a raging fire...

... Until she had suddenly vanished. The Dynasty fell to ruin once more, and what was left of Osamu lingered within Queen's Rest like a ghost, unable to move on. It had seemed fitting that the world's end approached; he still fought with the others to push it back, albeit without care that he would return unscathed (if at all).

Fortunately, he lived - and Izumi was returned seemingly from the heavens themselves. Their reunion was a breathless exchange of desperate longing and tangled limbs, the dam of his heart having broken in an instant as all of his long-suppressed emotion burst forth like an unstoppable tide.

They remained this way for some time - an Empress and her Samurai, coyly exchanging glances, a brush of a tail here, a small smile there - Osamu had felt like a teenaged boy, tasting the thrill of adrenaline while also pointedly avoiding the next step. Despite his feelings, he knew there could never be a next step. She was his Empress, and to overstep the boundary of his station would have dishonored them both. It would have brought shame to Izumi and disgrace to Osamu; for a while, he had resigned himself to this peculiar sort of stasis, basking in the warmth of the knowledge that she returned his ardor while still understanding (with great agony) that nothing could ever truly come of it.

So they attended a wedding for political reasons, got very drunk, and had passionate intercourse.

The rest was a blur.

Osamu looked at his reflection and felt his chest tighten. Who was he to marry an Empress? He could already feel their eyes on him, undressing the fur from his body as they probed deep to question the true intentions of his heart - if only he could tell them, show them. This was never meant to happen. He had never wanted it to be this way.

But he had - hadn't he?

The scent of wisteria permeated the air all around him; the scent of Izumi. Her face appeared in his mind's eye, warm and gentle, her lavender eyes drawing him in as he imagined again the sweet lilt of her voice, whispering in his ear like a gentle breeze.

Osamu did not think he deserved any of this, but if she did - then it would be enough.

He swallowed and readied himself for the ceremony.

---

Gods bless Izumi for making their wedding a private affair. If she'd gone all-out and summoned all the neighboring packs to attend, he might have fainted and fallen into the sea; just the audience of their own packmates was enough to set his heart pounding like a drum, but she knew him well.

He stood at the altar, more terrified than he'd ever been before. No Oni could compare to the acute dread of being the center of attention.

But then - he saw her.

Izumi rounded the corner, adorned in the wisteria flowers she so loved, hooded eyes downcast as the barest trace of a smile coursed her lips. She approached with grace and purpose, her steps slow and methodical as she ascended the incline and suddenly -

- It was just them.

Everyone else faded away, and it was only them. Only her.

... Are you certain? he whispered so quietly that only she might hear.

A strange tightness gripped his throat, and his vision suddenly blurred. Osamu couldn't remember the last time he'd ever wept; he blinked furiously, fighting back the unfamiliar sensation, struggling to hold himself together. Through the mist of his gathering tears, he caught a glimpse of her own streaming freely down her cheeks glittering like stars in the brilliant light of the morning sun, and he knew her answer just as he did his own. Osamu smiled, relieved.

She was everything he had ever wanted and never hoped to have.

Nana has seen weddings in the past, but never has she officiated one. Being asked to play the role of priestess here, when she feels the least holy and most filthy she's ever been, is surreal. So much so, in fact, that she very nearly denied the Empress' request!

But she couldn't, and now she is here, standing in front of the crowd of Fujiwara wolves, and feels out of place in a group of people who had once felt like home.

It's no one's fault. Nana instead attributes it to the swell in her sides, damning evidence of what she had done. There is a similar curve to the Empress' flanks as well, further solidifying the filth that stains Nana's soul like blood on fresh snow. For the Empress has her samurai, her future husband, and Nana has no one.

Once, as a girl, she'd dreamed of having a wedding like this. Of looking into the eyes of the one she loved and swearing herself to them for eternity.

Reality weighs heavily upon her now.

Still, the shrine maiden smiles, warmth blossoming in her chest as she looks at Izumi and Osamu and wonders just how long they've waited for this day. She will not ruin it for them by letting these feelings get to her.

Nana waits for the crowd to settle, for the Empress and Osamu to stand before one another, and gives them a moment to share private words before she begins the ceremony in full.

Esteemed people of Fujiwara Dynasty, begins the shrine maiden, and her voice wobbles only a bit, betraying the nervousness she feels. We have gathered here today to celebrate the joining of two souls, bound together in holy union.

Swallowing past the mild dryness in her throat, Nana turns soft eyes to the Empress, beginning, of course, with her. Empress Izumi, do you take Osamu-sama to be your husband, to unify the two of you into one, bound in illness and health, for as long as you two draw breath?

A pause, then, awaiting Izumi's vows.

The tunnel vision came next.

As they locked eyes with each other, the only thing that seemed to exist in Izumi’s view was the altar and him. It was such a sweet feeling – her heart felt as if it could soar right then and there. He whispered something to the crane as she made it before him – a question that she could only respond to with a smile and a nod. For the stream of tears had not stopped flowing, embarrassingly so, and if she dared use her voice now – surely, it would crack. Instead, a dark paw reached up to gently press against his cheek.

'I have never been more sure of anything in my entire life.'

Izumi wished she could say that herself. So she only hoped the visible struggle she had keeping it together told that much.

Nana had begun the vows, and her attention turned to the young priestess as she spoke. The empress still felt a bit of guilt in asking her to do this – if anything, the ivory woman should be resting in her state for the sake of the pups that were soon to come. Yet in Izumi’s eyes, she was most devout in the eyes of the kami themselves – the Empress trusted no one else to officiate their wedding except her.

“Empress Izumi, do you take Osamu-sama to be your husband, to unify the two of you into one, bound in illness and health, for as long as you two draw breath?”

She did not hesitate. She did not think about it.

As her lilac gaze turned to her silvered moon, they were filled with emotion. Pride, even, to finally say he was hers.

I do.

–and her heart waited for him to say the same, so that it may finally burst from it’s cage in anticipation.