#Nobunaga fic

[arias-diaryy]

Soft Underbelly

Nobunaga Hazama x Reader

Synopsis: The samurai has pride in keeping his prize safe (despite how terribly he’s doing it).

Warnings: yandere, fem reader, mentioned physical abuse.

3.4k words ... my first fic in a long while, big big big thank you to my beta reader who also came up with the synopsis lmfao

 Under normal circumstances, there would be a back and forth before bath time. 

Nobunaga’s working the third round of shampoo into your hair, grumbling under his breath when he still finds debris in your locks. Considerably less, given all the work he’s put in, but he still finds a stray leaf in your hair. He flicks it out of your head, brows furrowing. There isn’t any water in the tub, he’s just been rinsing you off over and over with the handheld showerhead.

It’s cold, and normally you’d be afforded the luxury of warm water. This time, Nobunaga was more interested in getting you clean rather than waiting for the water to heat up. You’ve been without clothes too many times in his presence to still feel overly embarrassed about it, though that doesn’t mean you’re comfortable about it. Nobunaga is crouched on the ground outside of the bathtub, washing you as if you were a labrador covered in mud. His sleeves still got water on them despite being rolled up to his elbows, and his hair is pulled back into a low ponytail to keep it out of the way. If he’s leered at you, you haven’t noticed. You’ve been desperate to avoid eye contact.

When he holds the showerhead up and over your body, the water runs down clearer than it did the last few times. There was dirt before, being washed away by the soap and pressure of the water. You and Nobunaga both internally cringed when the water ran red the first few times; you even moreso when the soap got into the cuts and scrapes littering your skin. He fussed over them, still does, you don’t expect anything less. Every cut he sees, he clicks his tongue and asks where it came from. “I don’t know” quickly becomes your default answer.

You wonder if he feels any bit vindicated, seeing you with blood and dirt under your nails, and twigs in your hair. All those “the outside world is too much for you” talks replay in your head, and your nails begin to dig into your palms out of frustration.

“Don’t do that.” Nobunaga says sternly, having caught the motion in his peripheral. You’re shaken out of your frustration, uncurling your hands. He’s perceptive enough to catch that, but not enough to realize that you want nothing to do with him? He furrows his brows a little more, his hands still in your hair and lathering it up with the shampoo. It smells like fruit, it smells girly. Juvenile, almost. 

“I’m not doing anything.” Nobunaga doesn’t say anything to you, removing his hands from your hair and grabbing the showerhead again. He makes a point of angling it more towards your face, and you flinch when the cold water hits you like a hard smack. You shut your eyes as the shampoo suds roll off your head and your face. One of his hands returns to your head, tousling up your hair and rinsing the shampoo out of it. The near icy water doesn’t help with your shivering, and you don’t think you’re in any position to be asking for hot water.

“I’m not a dog, I can bathe myself.” You say, halfway under your breath. Nobunaga might have rolled his eyes, but to do that, he’d have to momentarily stop looking at you, something he isn’t keen on doing.  “I didn’t say you were one.” He doesn't address your stewing emotions, no matter how clearly they’re scrawled across your face. You have half the mind not to respond with a snarky comment. 

There’s a pit in your stomach. There’s been one for quite a while. You assumed it was anxiety, but now you think it could also be an ulcer. Sometimes it gets so great that you think there’s really something wrong with you. Sizzling, contorting, creeping its way up into your chest. You felt it most in the first two weeks, and it’s waxed and waned since then. It’s spiked considerably from the moment Nobunaga found you again to now. It isn’t helped by the fact that you were expecting some sort of punishment; a sick retribution from him for trying to leave, and it has yet to come. 

…The fact that your escape lasted less than 6 hours probably has something to do with how he’s behaving. Oh, he’s annoyed, you didn’t need to be told. Though, you suppose he didn’t expend enough effort in finding you to truly be outraged. Nobunaga had found you in the woods behind the house, having yanked you out of the hollowed log you squirmed into. In the moment, it seemed like a good enough hiding spot, once you had the horrifying realization that he wasn’t that far behind you. For all the metaphorical and literal slaps on the wrist you got from him, you can’t be faulted for thinking he’d have more of a reaction to you trying to leave him.

In retrospect, it would have been smarter to travel alongside the road by the house and hitch hike. But wasn’t that too obvious? Nobunaga had been out of the house at the time of your escape, you didn’t know when he would come back. What would you say if the car he stole came driving down the road, and he saw you with your thumb out like a dumbass on the side of the asphalt? Plus, you thought you would’ve had a few days to make some distance. If you knew he’d be coming back tonight, you would’ve waited.

You’re pretty sure your previous comment wasn’t an invitation to conversation, yet Nobunaga begins talking anyway. “I can’t believe you, the one thing I told you not to do,” he chides. “and you didn’t even make it that far.” Nobunaga says it with a bit of humor, as if underneath his irritation, he finds this a little funny. Of course he does. Your hair feels like rubber with how much shampoo has been in it, and you despair internally when Nobunaga goes to put another dollop of it into your hair. “You’re lucky I found you before you got seriously hurt.” He scolds, roughy lathering the shampoo into your scalp one last time for good measure.

Despite it all, he’s still acting too flippant for your liking, you had expected him to… well, you aren’t sure. You’ve been on edge since before you even ran away, waiting for the eventual blow. Sure, he’s raised his voice at you and dragged you the whole way home, but you were still waiting for the worst of it. You thought he’d show his anger more, you did escape after all. The one thing he specifically forbade you to do.

(He also forbade you from locking doors and going near the stove without his supervision, but actually getting out of the house and making a break for it seemed more serious than any of the others). 

You shut your eyes to keep shampoo from entering them, but it’s too late. They sting almost immediately and you let out a small hiss of pain. So much for tear free. Nobunaga leans closer, pausing in his lecturing. “Are you crying?” He asks in a less stern tone of voice. “No!” You say, but you doubt he believes you. After all, you are tearing up. You blink a few times, and there’s tears in your eyes, which are now red and irritated. Nobunaga brings his hand closer to wipe your tears away, and you flinch. He grabs your upper arm to keep you in place, and you tense up more than you knew possible.

“Are you sure?” He asks again, and you don’t like the way he’s saying it. He’s talking to you like you’re a kid who got caught in a lie. “You got shampoo in my eyes!” “Uh huh.” Nobunaga hums, disregarding your declaration and wiping your tears away with his free hand. Your eyes are really red, he thinks. Maybe a drop of shampoo did get in them, though he remains unconvinced that you aren’t at least a little regretful for trying to run away from him. You aren’t that heartless. You go to rub at your eyes, and Nobunaga grabs your wrist to stop you. You flinch again, and he clicks his tongue in irritation.

“Would you stop being difficult?” Nobunaga says, taking a firmer grasp of your wrist to emphasize his point. “I’m not being difficult.” “You are, you’re acting like I’m going to hit you.” “Are you?” You ask, and Nobunaga only looks at you like you’re challenging him. “Should I?” 

You take a moment to respond. You can’t think of a smart answer, and although none of them feel outright wrong, none of them exactly feel right, either. “If I were you, I’d hit me.” It’s not a lie, if you were just half as deranged as Nobunaga, you probably would hit yourself. Nobunaga pauses for a moment, then laughs. As if it was some punchline to a joke. You aren’t as unsettled as you are relieved that he didn’t actually put his hands on you. At least he found it funny?

If you were him, you wouldn’t have deemed yourself worth the trouble. You would have gotten rid of yourself a long time ago, replaced yourself with another woman. One that looks similar enough to you, if appearances mattered. Yet everytime you would correct him, insist that you weren’t his girlfriend or anything of the sort, he’d wave you off and go on with whatever he was doing. You aren’t sure what he sees in you, it’s never stuck, no matter how many times he’s said it.

“You shouldn’t say things like that.” Nobunaga finally says. “I already said before, I don’t want to hurt you.” You want to roll your eyes. He’s the one who brought the topic up. Sure, it’s not like he ever punched you in the jaw or anything, but he has a knack for manhandling you every now and then. Nobunaga keeps on talking, not that you had a reply or anything further to add to the conversation. He’s back to being stern with you. “Don’t think you’re off the hook yet. I’m still mad at you. What you did was stupid.” “I know.” You mumble, avoiding his harsh glare.

“You’re not going to do it again.” He says, more firmly this time. With the same lack of energy, you reply “I won’t”. Nobunaga looks like he has more to say, but stays quiet. A distinct smell of smoke and burning food wafts through the hallway and into the bathroom. The food Nobunaga tossed into the oven an hour ago… 

He curses under his breath, his eyes going from the hallway to you. “Stay here.” He says, rising to his feet and leaving you in the bathtub alone, still with shampoo in your hair. You take it that it’ll take him a while to salvage dinner, so you take it upon yourself to finish your bath. You make sure to twist the shower handle to warmer water before taking the showerhead to get the shampoo out of your hair and eyes. The pit in your stomach hasn’t gone away, and the prospect of charred food for dinner isn’t easening your pain. You hadn’t spent long enough outside to be that hungry for Nobunaga’s culinary prowess, or lack thereof. 

-

There was zero chance of Nobunaga scrapping dinner to just order takeout. In fact, that chance most likely plummeted to the negatives given the stunt you pulled earlier in the day. Still, dinner wasn’t a total waste. You could eat around the burnt pieces of chicken, which were few and far between. The rice was stickier than you would’ve liked. You doubt Nobunaga would be letting you handle the cooking for a while, it’s practically a given that certain privileges would be rescinded. Temporarily, you hope, but rescinded nontheless. 

At least the vegetables came out fine.

Nobunaga sits down at the foot of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He looks over at you, laying flat on your back in bed with the blanket covering you. Your feet poke out from under the covers. Soft and warm, scratches on your soles. There’s a cut on the bottom of your left foot; it looks more like a thin slice of flesh was scraped clean off. Nobunaga can’t take his eyes off of it. He knows it’ll heal, but he can only run through all the different ways you garnered that injury.

He stares at your foot in his hand, brows furrowed. A sliver of him was impressed, perhaps a little endeared, that you were still clinging to this idea of not needing him. It was almost laughable, even more so given the state you were in when Nobunaga found you. Cold, exhausted, and hungry, you had somehow gotten two of your fingernails ripped off in the short time you were away from him. All that, and you had the gall to look at him as if he was somehow inconveniencing you by bringing you back home. You’d even tried to bite and scratch at him like some animal.

You really could be an ungrateful brat, sometimes. Maybe you were onto something about him hitting you. 

If anything, he’s only more convinced of how pathetic you are. Endearingly so, but pathetic nonetheless. You deserve an achievement for managing to scratch yourself up so much in a few short hours without him, truth be told. Not that he enjoys seeing the cuts on your body, but he does consider himself a little bit smart for not letting you have shoes of any kind, even ones for inside the house. You probably would have gotten much farther if you weren’t out there with just some thin socks.

Nobunaga shifts a little closer, gingerly taking your left ankle and foot in his hands. The foot with the nasty cut on the bottom. He didn’t want you picking at it or even looking at it, so he’d made sure to bandage it properly. If you were awake, you’d jolt like a spooked animal and try to kick at him. Though he’d always known you as a light sleeper, you don’t even stir when Nobunaga touches you. That’s good, he thinks. You need the rest. All that scrambling in the forest probably took out all of your energy.

Even looking at your sleeping face now, it’s hard for the samurai to imagine that just hours ago you were shrieking at him to let you go, to not bring you back home. He’d spent almost an hour painstakingly removing every splinter of wood caught in your feet and hands; all while you were squirming and trying not to kick at him reflexively. Another hour was spent getting the rest of you cleaned up. It’s almost like you’d prefer being out in the cold than being kept warm and safe with him. It’s so preposterous, he could almost laugh at the thought.

…Though, he can’t pinpoint any other reason for you acting out. Unless that’s just what it was, misbehavior for the sake of it. Maybe you wanted more attention? That seemed plausible to Nobunaga. He can’t imagine that you’re thrilled when he leaves your side to go on Troupe missions. When he returned, it was always to you looking miserable, only cheering up now that he returned to you.

(It was because he had a tendency to lock up the television remote in his absence to keep you from watching something he didn’t want you seeing, and the fridge almost never seemed to be stocked with actual food before he left you in your lonesome. He still hadn’t connected the dots).

(...Though the prolonged lack of human interaction did do a number on you, as well).

He knows that to some degree, this is his fault. He’s been too lenient with you, too soft. Uvo had made a passing comment once that it’d do him some good to instill some fear into you. Just a little, to keep you from misbehaving. Nobunaga let you talk back and maintain some independence, and you turn around and try to run away from him.

He gave you an inch and you tried to take a mile. If your ploy was really to get more of his attention, then you’d succeeded. Nobunaga can’t imagine not keeping a closer eye on you for the coming months. That, and he’d finally get around to putting some bars on the windows. His gaze lingers on you, on your foot resting in his lap. He wonders if you know how lucky you are, that it’s him who’s keeping you safe and not any other Troupe member. Someone like Feitan surely would’ve killed you, or at least made you wish you were dead. 

Nobunaga isn’t keen on taking a page out of Feitan’s book, though. He was generally averse to the idea of making you upset. He didn’t consider himself to be a bad man, one who hurts his woman. Sure, he’s killed more people than he can count and took great joy in it. He’s maimed women and children, and robbed people of all they had, all for the Spider. But that was different. It’s impersonal, and half of those people more or less deserved it anyway. Probably. Regardless, you escaping and making a run for it isn’t something he can brush under the rug, even if you totally failed.

A hot-head like Phinks, or even Uvo, would’ve broken your leg. Perhaps a bit excessive, you hadn’t made it far enough to warrant that in Nobunaga’s eyes. It’s like a part of you subconsciously didn’t want to go so far away. Like you wanted to be found. If you really hated him so much that you’d try to run away, surely you would’ve put some more effort into it. 

He could always just break your ankle, maybe both. Crude, brutish, almost, but that would get the point across. It wouldn’t be hard by any means. A flick of the wrist and it’d be done. Maybe he could wake you up before he does it, make you squirm a little. Perhaps you’d feel a fraction of the panic Nobunaga felt when he couldn’t find you anywhere; when he realized you’d ran away from him. 

The aftermath might be a little messy, but at least you wouldn’t be running away again. He could keep you like that for a few days, maybe you’d learn some appreciation then. It’d take Machi a while to get to his house anyway to fix you up properly. Maybe he wouldn’t even need her. You’d cry a lot, he’s sure. 

“What are you doing?”

Your voice, tired and having lost it’s previous bite, draws Nobunaga out of his thoughts. You’re still laying flat in bed, looking at him with your foot in his lap. You tense up, and he doesn’t miss the brief change in expression. You’re uncomfortable, and the man chalks it up to you being ticklish or something along those likes. Not that you ever claimed to be, but you always shyed away from his touch, always bit the inside of your cheek when he got close. Tensed up when his fingers brushed up against your neck or shoulders. It was cute.

Nobunaga doesn’t answer you right away, his thumb idly rubbing the skin of your ankle. It’s almost a soothing gesture. “Nothing, go back to sleep.” You retract your foot, and he lets you. He circles the bed, coming to the other side and getting in with you. You tense up, feeling Nobunaga slide in right next to you. You don’t move away, not that you had a chance to. Nobunaga presses himself against you, his arms wrapping around you.

You wince, being overwhelmed with his scent. In your brief time away from him, you’d enjoyed the smell of dirt and grass, and the wind hitting your skin. All things you never thought about too much, now feeling like luxuries. Your head is pushed into the crook of his neck, and the rest of you is too sore to do much about it. You suppose, if anything, that being in a warm bed is better than crawling into a log and trying to pretend the ants don’t bother you.

“You know I love you, right?” It’s something you’ve heard from him more times than you care to admit. You don’t say anything, only humming in acknowledgment. That isn’t enough, you know by now that he always wants an answer when he says he loves you. It sounds all too sincere, which ironically is the reason you hate hearing it. When he doesn’t hear a response, Nobunaga pinches your upper arm. So, to soften the blow of whatever’s in store for you tomorrow, you tell him what he wants to hear.

“I love you too.”

[ddevours]

 ✦ㅤ  .ㅤ  ˚ㅤ dança de espadas ( projeto )

[and-then-she-died-tm]

I HAVE A QUESTION FOR THE IKESEN FANDOM

👉👈

[xxsycamore]

𝘐𝘒𝘌𝘔𝘌𝘕 𝘚𝘌𝘕𝘎𝘖𝘒𝘜 𝘔𝘈𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙𝘓𝘐𝘚𝘛

featuring works written after July 1st, 2021. You can find my old (misc) masterlist here. Browse my Ikesen fics by tag here: 🏯 #ikemen-sengoku

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••• ━━━━━Oda Nobunaga

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event: 💃- Pull them in for a dance when noone else is around

Because, I said So [smut] Tags: Semi-public sеx, Modern AU, Boss/Employee Relationship

Owning you completely [smut] Tags:Bathroom (Onsen) Sex; Slight exhibitionism; Slight scent marking kink; Vaginal sex

Valiance [angst and fluff] Tags: OC; Strong Female Character; Light Angst; Feelings Realization; Love Confessions; First Kiss; War Allies to Lovers

••• ━━━━━Date Masamune

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event: 🥺 - Ask them how much they love you 

How The Dragon of Oshu Breeds His Wife [smut] Tags: Breeding; Impregnation; Ovulation; Crying; Gentle Sex; Cunnilingus; Oral Sex; Married Characters; Mentions of Pregnancy; Dirty Talk; Multiple Orgasms; Creampie

Wild like the color blue [smut] Tags: Modern AU, Public sex, Pool sex, Cunnilingus

••• ━━━━━Takeda Shingen

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event: 💃- Pull them in for a dance when noone else is around

Captor and Captured [smut] Tags: Kidnapping; Vaginal Sex; Cunnilingus; Femdom; Power Play; Nipple Play; Woman on Top; Alternate Universe - Modern Setting ;Light Dom/sub

CRADLE [smut] Tags: Breeding; Mentions of Pregnancy; Nipple Play; Dirty Talk; Hand & Finger Kink; Body Worship

••• ━━━━━Toyotomi Hideyoshi

ficlets from my 1500 followers celebration event: 🙏 - Warm their hands between yours

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event: Give them: 😘- A kiss on the cheek

Affections at dawn [smut] Tags: Vanilla; Vaginal Sex; Riding; Creampie; Aftercare; Gentle Sex

••• ━━━━━Akechi Mitsuhide

ficlets from my 1500 followers celebration event: 😘 - Keep smooching them until they protest ; 🙏 - Warm their hands between yours

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event: Give them: 🌼- A symbolic small flower 💃- Pull them in for a dance when noone else is around 🥺 - Ask them how much they love you

Blizzard incoming [smut] Tags:  Modern AU; Not wearing underwear; Slight exhibitionism kink; Vaginal sex

••• ━━━━━Sanada Yukimura

ficlets from my 1500 followers celebration event: 😈 - Linger in for a kiss, but never kiss them

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event: 💃- Pull them in for a dance when noone else is around

••• ━━━━━Kanetsugu Naoe

Tea break [fluff & smut] Tags: This is 90% tooth-rotting fluff and 10% smut; Massage; Body Worship; Blow Jobs; Cock Worship; Established Relationship

••• ━━━━━Mai (MC)

ficlets from my 1000 followers celebration event: Give them: 🧵- A hand-made craft

••• ━━━━━Kicho

ficlets from my 1500 followers celebration event: 😈 - Linger in for a kiss, but never kiss them

••• ━━━━━Uesugi Kenshin

ficlets from my 1500 followers celebration event: 😘 - Keep smooching them until they protest ; 🤪 - Crack a joke to make them laugh

••• ━━━━━Kennyo

ficlets from my 1500 followers celebration event: 😘 - Keep smooching them until they protest

••• ━━━━━Sarutobi Sasuke

ficlets from my 1500 followers celebration event: 💌 - Leave a love note in their pocket

••• ━━━━━Tokugawa Ieyasu

ficlets from my 1500 followers celebration event: 👔 - Steal their clothes to cuddle when you miss them

••• ━━━━━Mouri Motonari

ficlets from my 1500 followers celebration event: 🌸 - Breathe in their soothing scent

[tiny-wooden-robot-fics]

Voyager - Seven

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Oda Nobunaga (Ikemen Sengoku) x Original Female Character Characters: Oda Nobunaga (Ikemen Sengoku), Eri Davidson (Original Female Character of Color) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting (so much flirting), Teasing, Oda Nobunaga is a huge flirt and a huge tease, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Slight Timeskip Near the End

Previous Chapter (Six): No Easy Conquest | Next Chapter (Eight): A Familiar Face

Chapter Masterlist

Summary:

"Valerie, you should know that I never say anything I don't mean."

She glares at him.

"Calm yourself," he laughs. "It isn't as if I've never seen a naked woman before."

Read on AO3

“You did well today.” The Lord of Azuchi says the words as he helps her dismount from the pretty chestnut mare she’d chosen for her riding lessons. “How do you feel, having completed your first lesson?”

“Like I’m going to be really sore tomorrow morning,” Eri laments. “I can already feel the tightness in my legs.” 

“A soak in the baths tonight will ease the soreness,” he tells her, leading the horse back to the stable to brush and feed it. 

“Baths?” Eri raises an eyebrow, unsure if she’s heard him correctly. 

“Mm.” He grunts in response, his attention focused on the horse. 

“Wait… you did say ‘baths’, right?” She shakes her head. “As in, baths?”

He looks up at her. “I didn’t think there was anything unclear in what I said.”

She squeezes her eyes shut tightly. “You mean to tell me,” she starts, “that there have been baths at Azuchi all this time?” 

This seems to amuse him. “They were there before you arrived, and they will be there after you leave.”

Exasperated, she clicks her tongue. “No one told me!”

“I just did,” he replies simply. 

“Where are they?”

“Not far from here.” He motions vaguely toward the area behind her. At Eri’s blank look, he sighs. “Help me feed her,” he starts, motioning to the horse, “and I’ll show you where they are.” 

***

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She murmurs the words, her eyes taking in the sight in front of her. She turns to him, incredulous. “I can’t believe this has been here the whole time, and I’ve been wasting away in my room wishing for a hot bath where I could soak.”

“Why did you never ask?”

Because I’m a moron. Eri shakes her head. The maids must think I’m a nutcase. “Because I just… I guess I just didn’t think to,” she admits. “No one ever offered me anything different, so I didn’t know another option existed.” 

He cocks his head to the side curiously, studying her. “Surely they have baths where you’re from.”

“Actually---” She stops herself. “You know what? It doesn’t even matter.” She shakes her head again. “So it’s alright for me to use this tonight?” 

“As much as you like.”

“I get to wash my hair,” she croons happily. 

“Is that a special event?” 

This makes her laugh. “You have no idea.” 

“Well then,” he says thoughtfully, flashing her a smile. “Perhaps I shall come by tonight and observe this special event for myself.” 

Is he… serious? Before she has time to contemplate it further, he has turned on his heel and is walking away from her. 

***

“Lady Eri,” Haru calls from the other side of the shoji. “I am here.” 

“Oh, Haru,” Eri calls back, as she gathers her clothing into a bundle. “Come on in.” 

“I’m sorry for the delay,” Haru apologizes, bowing low as she closes the shoji behind her.

Eri waves a hand. “No, it’s alright. I just wanted to see if I could get your help with something.” 

“Anything,” the young lady smiles. “I’m here to serve you, My Lady.”

I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that, she thinks, shaking her head. “Tomorrow morning, before tea with Yasuke-San and his family, I’d like to go into town to buy a few things. I’ve already spoken to Ishida-San, and he’s given me a list of places I might find what I need and the money with which to buy them. Would you be available to go with me?” 

“Of course,” Haru beams at her. “I’m so glad you asked. There’s a new vendor I heard about who has the loveliest hair pins. I’d like to go see for myself, if we have time.” 

“I think we can arrange that,” Eri smiles. “I’ll send for you mid-morning, if that’s alright.” 

“As you wish, My Lady.” She bows once more before leaving the room, and Eri turns her attention back to gathering the clothing she needs for her trip to the baths.

***

If there is a more luxurious feeling than the one she is experiencing now, Eri has yet to find it. 

She sighs in contentment as she lowers herself into the steaming water. The baths at Azuchi are laid out much like the more modern ones that she has seen occasionally during her time in Japan, and she is grateful that just like those modern baths, there is an area for her to clean her body and hair before soaking in the steaming hot water of the large bath. She has purposely waited until late in the evening, when most of the estate’s residents have retired for the night. Her patience has served her well, as the baths are deserted by the time she gets there. 

I haven’t felt this clean in days, she thinks to herself languidly, watching the steam rise over the surface of the water. She submerges her head, re-wetting her hair before reaching up to grab her comb and oils. She has just started working the camellia oil through the first section of her hair when she hears his voice.

“It appears I have arrived too late to witness the beginning of your special event.” 

Eri lets out a yelp, dropping the comb in her hand onto the stone lip of the bath. Frantically, she reaches for her robe, but realizes that she is too far away from it to retrieve it without coming part of the way out of the water. “You--!” She gasps, letting herself sink deeper into the water and trying to cover her breasts with her arms. “What are you doing here?” 

The Lord of the castle gazes at her, genuine confusion in his features. “I did tell you that I wanted to witness it for myself,” he says logically, as though he hasn’t just scared her nearly to death. “Did I not?”

“I didn’t think you meant it!” She’s still curling away from him, mortified, trying to hide the private bits of her body. 

“Valerie, you should know that I never say anything I don’t mean.” 

She glares at him. 

“Calm yourself,” he laughs. “It isn’t as if I’ve never seen a naked woman before.”

She sputters, trying to come up with a snappy retort and finding she is utterly unable to. It becomes even harder to speak once he removes his own robe and Eri realizes that he intends to join her in the bath. “Oda-Sama---!” She averts her eyes, her face burning. 

“I think,” he starts, “that in such a casual setting as this one, it would be appropriate to use my given name. Don’t you agree?” He submerges himself completely, moving to the other side of the bath. “Please,” he continues, motioning to the abandoned comb and oils, “don’t let me stop you.” 

Stubbornly, she keeps her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Would it make you feel more comfortable if I looked the other way?” 

“Do whatever you want,” she snaps, refusing to look at him. 

“I told you, it isn’t as if I’ve never seen a naked woman before.”

“You’ve never seen me naked before.” And I was hoping to keep it that way.

“One could argue that I still haven’t,” he chuckles. “You’ve been keeping yourself covered, but even if you hadn’t, night has already fallen, and the darkness of the water covers what you don’t want me to see.”

She can’t refute that point. “Are you really that curious about what I do with my hair?” 

“I really am,” he answers. 

“It isn’t that interesting,” she rebuts. 

“Perhaps not to you,” he shrugs, the water lapping at his collarbones. “But the things we find uninteresting because we do them often are the things that are most interesting to people who have never seen them done.” He offers her a smile. “I promise to keep my eyes above your neck.”

Eri sighs. She knows that if she doesn’t resume detangling and moisturizing her hair before it dries, she will have a tangled, shrunken mess on her hands very soon. “You give me your word?” 

“You have my word,” he tells her solemnly, raising his right hand. “I would ask you for the same, but the truth is that I don’t really mind if your eyes wander.” 

Son of a bitch. “My eyes won’t be wandering anywhere near you,” she snaps. 

True to his word, however, he keeps his eyes on what her hands are doing in her hair, studying the way she parts the thick curls into sections and works oil through each section from root to tip. Even without her arsenal of modern styling and holding products, her hair takes well to the camellia oil, shining in the light of the lamps placed around the tub and curling into its natural z-pattern. 

“It’s beautiful,” he muses, once she has finished doing the same all over her head. 

Eyes wide, she looks over at him. “Thank you.” 

“You seem surprised,” he remarks. 

She shrugs, her arms instinctively crossing over her chest again. 

“The mere fact that something is unfamiliar to me doesn’t make it any less worth admiring,” he reflects. “Do you think me so incapable of recognizing beauty in all its forms?” 

Eri isn’t sure what to say to that. “Oda-Sama---”

“Nobunaga,” he interrupts her, laughter in his voice. “We’re naked in each others’ company. I think you can drop the formality.” 

Her face goes warm. “Nobunaga,” she tries quietly, the name fitting strangely in her mouth. 

“How sweet it sounds coming from you.” She can’t tell if he’s flirting or just teasing her. 

“I’d like to get out now,” she tells him. 

“I won’t stop you.” 

She huffs indignantly. “Can I ask you to please look away?”

“If that’s what you want me to do,” he shrugs. 

“Yes,” she tells him firmly. “I’m going inside to dress.” 

“As you wish.” He turns away from her, and she scrambles up out of the water, snatching up her robe and wrapping it tightly over herself. 

She takes her time drying and moisturizing her skin before dressing in her newly-cleaned modern clothing. She exits the bath house just as Nobunaga is pulling himself up out of the water, and a gasp escapes her. 

“Oh, you’re finished,” he says conversationally, as if he isn’t standing in front of her stark-naked and dripping wet. “I’ll escort you back to your room.” He seems to realize then that he’s still naked and reaches down to pick up his robe and drape it over himself. “So your eyes did wander a bit,” he smirks. 

“It isn’t as though I’ve never seen a naked man before.” She throws his words back in his face. 

“But you’ve never seen me naked before. Did you see anything you liked?” He asks her, that teasing lilt back in his voice. 

She ignores his question. “What do you think I am?”

“I think,” he starts seriously, holding out his arm for her to take, “that you are a mystery that I would like to solve.” He looks down at her, watching as she accepts his arm and loops her own through it.  

***

“You know,” Valerie starts, looking past her reflection in the mirror to gaze at his, just behind her, “you’re being awfully distracting.”

“Me?” Shinichi chuckles. “I’m not even doing anything. I’m just watching.” 

“Yes,” she says, “but it’s very hard to concentrate on what I’m doing when every time I look in the mirror, I see you lying there.” 

“Would it help if I helped you?” 

“Maybe,” she giggles. “It would help even more if you’d put some clothes on.” 

“But I’m comfortable like this.” 

“What you are, is a distraction,” she reiterates, wagging a finger at him playfully. 

“Alright,” he says, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and standing up. “How about a compromise? I put on a pair of pants and help you.” 

“That sounds like a fair deal.” She watches his reflection go into the third drawer of the bureau, pull out a pair of blue pajama bottoms, and slide them on. His reflection turns to her. 

“Better?”

“For now.” 

Her boyfriend closes the distance between them, bending over slightly to press a kiss to her lips. “Want me to get the back?” He asks, motioning to where her hair has been divided into two large sections. 

“Yes, please,” she tells him gratefully. 

They work together in a comfortable silence then, each tackling a section of her hair with moisturizer and a wide-toothed comb. More than once, Valerie stops moving, relishing the feel of Shinichi’s gentle hands working through her hair. Every now and again, he presses his fingertips to her scalp, softly massaging it and eliciting a pleased hum from her. 

It isn’t long before her hair has been completely worked through, divided into large two-strand twists. Without her even having to say a word, Shinichi reaches over and grabs the length of satin she uses to tie her hair up at night. He hands it to her with a smile. 

“Thank you,” she says, turning her face up for another kiss. 

“You’re welcome,” he says, obliging her and pecking her on the lips. “So now that you’re done and the danger of distraction isn’t an issue anymore, is it okay for me to get naked again?” 

“Well, I guess it’s alright now,” she giggles. “But I can’t promise I’ll be able to keep my hands to myself.” 

“I honestly don’t expect you to.”

***

“Valerie?” Nobunaga is calling her name, concern lacing his deep, heavy voice. 

“Oh, yes?” She looks up at him. “I’m sorry, you were saying something?”

“I was, but it was of little import.” He pauses, looking down at her curiously. “You seemed to go somewhere else for a bit.”

“It’s nothing,” she tells him, trying on what she hopes is a reassuring smile. “I was just… thinking about something from a long time ago.” 

He looks as though he wants to ask her what, but thinks better of it and decides not to. “A mystery, indeed,” he says instead, almost as if to himself. 

“Thank you,” she says quietly. “For walking me back.” 

“Does this mean I have your permission to join you some other night?” 

The question makes her laugh in spite of herself. “I promise to make less of a fuss if you warn me before you decide to show up,” she tells him sternly. “But you’ll have to keep your hands - and your eyes - to yourself.” 

“Hm,” is all he’ll say. 

Previous Chapter (Six): No Easy Conquest | Next Chapter (Eight): A Familiar Face

[citrus-writing]

is there a reason you dont include nobunaga?

Hi! Thanks for the ask! There isn't a reason, I just forgot to add Nobunaga, as well as some other characters. You’re not the first person to notice him missing, but rest assured he’ll be added to the new things i write! 

I’ve been really inconsistent with who I include in my fics, which I'm working on fixing. i‘ve been just kinda writing for whoever came to mind when i wrote, but i’m going to try to be more consistent and include more characters (nobunaga included). 

If you're curious, nobunaga is one of the characters you can send in requests for! I will take requests for any troupe member.

[bearsace]

the sunny self portrait of kiyomi kanai

an ikemen sengoku fic by bearsace

World-famous actress Kiyomi Kanai has it all: money, beauty, and the adoration of millions of fans. When she accepts a role in the hottest new Sengoku drama, she decides the best way to get in character is to visit Azuchi Castle Ruins... ...and apparently also to time-travel five-hundred years to the past, where she inadvertently saves the lives of two major players on Japan's world stage. Suddenly, this egotistic megastar has to think quick on her feet to survive being caught between two warlords-- and maybe learn to love a world without the glitz and glamour she's always known.

read on ao3! ✱ chapter one ✱

preview...

Thunder booms again, furious and deep and suddenly, I’m all too aware that maybe it’s not just pathetic to be crying out here. It’s downright dangerous. Lightning illuminates the man; he’s sporting a lab coat and a geeky sort of handsomeness, and he reaches a hand to me. I recoil defensively. “Kiyomi, you have to get out of here. There’s going to be—” The heavens split open one last time with a blinding flash of light, rain on my skin like bullets, thunder in my ears like jetplanes. I’ve never seen lightning so close until it engulfs us, and my throat tears with a scream of terror—and then my world is silent. ( Kiyomi Kanai Struck by Lightning, Lets Her Makeup Get Ruined—At Least She Was Wearing a Prada Miniskirt!! …God. The gossip blogs tomorrow are going to gobble this shit right up.)

[ataraxiaspainting]

What are your favorite yandere fics?

i'm going to be listing a whole bunch because i feel like people in the yandere community/fanfic community in general are just so talented!! <333 i'm still getting a grip on my writing style, so i really look up to them!

please read all content warnings before reading! also please respect everyone's rules!

sfw blogs:

by @teabutmakeitazure

devil's advocate (yan chrollo) cogency of the deluded (yan chrollo) roll a die, roll a poison (yan aventurine) pinprick on the backdrop (yan chrollo) (this fic doesn't have warnings because of spoilers, so please read with discretion!) perforate and permeate (yan illumi) closing shift (yan (demon) childe) prerogative (yan (modern) childe)

by @harmonysanreads

sumeru love hexagon au yandere ex boyfriend aventurine the persistence of memory (yan mr. reca) playing dress up with yan aventurine + sunday + dr. ratio + blade

by @brynn-lear

who drank it? (yan aventurine + dr. ratio + gallagher + more!!)

not sfw blogs (or just fics in general) listed below!

by @ddarker-dreams

hide and seek (yan scaramouche) zufriedenheit (yan johan) a dangerous game (yan childe) birthday blues (yan chrollo) when worlds collide (yan scaramouche) nexus (yan blade) (nsfw warning!) idée fixe (yan chrollo)

by @after-witch

bus stop (yan geto) (non-con warning) two birds one stone (yan gojo) (non-con warning) no appointment necessary (yan overhaul) sufferance (yan chrollo) (non-con warning) do no harm (yan overhaul)

by @uvobreakmylegs

enjoy the silence (yan (vampire) illumi) (non-con warning) digging deeper (yan (college au) nobunaga) (non-con warning) new beginnings (yan (mafia au) nobunaga) the sixth floor game (yan (demon) shalnark)

by @merakiui

kalopsia (yan xiao + zombie reader) cat's cradle (yan childe) hatefully yours (yan scaramouche) (dub-con warning) half-off love (yan scaramouche + implied yan childe) (nsfw warning) death row undertow (yan (serial killer) jade) (nsfw warning) sea glass (yan octotrio) 11:11 - sugar dew sewn anew (yan rook) eden (yan rollo) (non-con warning)

by @stickyspeckledlight

destroyed onset (yan aventurine) (non-con warning)

by @jessamine-rose

all of her yan harbinger fics honestly, but ardor of a lover (yan (vampire) pantalone) is actually my favorite!! <3

this list may be added onto in the future because there are so many amazing writers out there!

[uvobreakmylegs]

Refuge

part 1 of a werewolf!Nobunaga x female!reader fic

Part 2

Warnings: blood, gore, self harm, mentions of death

Word Count: 8.2k

The pale full moon shone down upon the quiet forest, illuminating the pure white snow that lay like a blanket across the forest floor. Light from the moon made the shadows of the barren tree branches even more obvious when combined the bright surface beneath them, and the pattern they made upon the snow resembled that of gnarled arms with outstretched hands, forever reaching out with extended fingers. Any animals that lived within the vicinity were asleep, either only for the night or in hibernation, waiting for the weather to warm before they dared venture out again.

Within the sleeping forest sat a wooden cabin, an obvious and out of place interruption to the quiet landscape of the endless trees. Someone had carved out for themselves a home within the woods with the small, simple cabin in the equally small clearing. It could either be viewed as a cozy space or an invader of the natural state of the forest, but regardless, it stood there, the chimney softly carrying up the last remnants of smoke from a dying fire. Above it, the moonlight hit the man-made building in a way that made it instantly noticeable.

And in the forest, there was one that noticed it immediately.

Where almost everyone and everything was asleep within the dead quiet of the wilderness, one was awake. And when he noticed the cabin, he stalked closer, his snout sniffing the dry air as he tried to discern who or what was inside the small structure.

Not many chose to live so far away from the rest of civilization, and when they did, it was for a specific reason, some job or craft of theirs that was better suited for out in the wilderness. For what reason was this cabin here, he wondered. A quick glance showed nothing of interest; only a small, frozen over garden to one side, and a dead log on the other that had clearly been used as a way to chop firewood.

Who was in there? A family? Or perhaps a couple that intended to start one?

Regardless of who was in there, they would be easy targets. Being so far away from anyone else and being attacked in the middle of the night would make them as much, as the sudden chaos that would interrupt their sleep would catch them off guard.

But perhaps, he thought to himself, there might be just enough time for his hunt to become interesting.

Standing between two pine trees, he breathed in.

Only a single human scent could be identified.

And as he listened with sharp ears that strained to hear of the interior of the cabin, little else was to be noted other than the faintest noise of someone breathing evenly.

Only one.

The longer he stood, the more he was certain that there was only a single person with in that structure, someone who was asleep like the rest of the forest.

That revelation dampened his mood.

Someone being alone in the woods must have been some elderly person who was stuck in their ways, he thought. They wouldn't be able to move fast, and they would hardly offer up any sort of challenge should he choose to attack.

While it wasn't always what he was looking for in his hunts, the thought of it being too easy was unappealing.

It would be several miles to the only town he knew was in the area, however. He would spend several miles trekking there and back to his own little camp if he chose to head that way. If he killed the person within, he'd satiate his hunger and have a better shelter for the night, possibly the next few days.

It was far more pragmatic to attack the cabin. While there would be little sport, he could always wait for the next month if that was what he wanted.

Yet even as he told himself that, he continued to stand there, staring at the quiet cabin.

….. No.

After waiting a month for this night to return, that wasn't the way he wanted it to end. Perhaps it was his own instinct that told him that. The need to have a proper hunt.

Regardless, he made his choice as he stepped away, turning and heading towards the direction of what must have been the nearby town as he followed his nose, picking up bits and pieces of more human scents that the gentle breeze brought his way. The cabin behind him was quickly forgotten as he continued forward. Thus the cabin and the woman within were left in peace.

And not an hour after, gunshots could be heard ringing through the night, though in the safety of your home, you weren't aware of any of it as you slept through the ordeal completely.

Winter was rarely kind.

That was a harsh truth that everyone in the region had learned, as the area where you lived was always hit with heavy barrages of thickly layered snow. Icy winds would shriek through the open spaces, running past trees and buildings as it brought with it a torrent of ice that clung to whatever surface it could. The blizzards would always beat down upon the wooden doors of the homes that did their best to keep the harsh weather out, and sometimes those storms would last for several days if not longer.

All of that left everyone chilled to the bone and desperately clinging to whatever shreds of warmth they could get their hands on. As such, everyone would ensure that their fireplaces or their wood burning stoves were in proper order. Nothing would grow during this time either, so if one wanted to survive, having ample food stored away was required. That could be a difficult task depending on how many mouths one had to feed.

Though for you it was a bit easier as you only needed to worry about yourself.

You lived several miles away from the nearby town of Willsden, and the area of the woods where your cabin stood allowed for enough extra space for you to grow your own crops. The summer and autumn months were spent growing your own food in the little garden, harvesting the vegetables when they were ready and storing them away. And for the food that you couldn't produce on your own, you would buy or bartering for whatever it was that you needed. All you needed was enough in your storage that would last you until spring came, and then the process would repeat itself.

Though the winters weren't always the same; sometimes the snow would thaw later than anticipated and that would cause you issues as you scrambled to find a way to provide for yourself, but overall you managed to do fine. The fact that you were surviving on your own for so long was proof enough of that. Even if it was difficult, you were happy with what you had and what you were able to accomplish.

As you stepped out from the warm confines of the cabin and into the harsh cold, you shuddered as a chill instantly set into you. The winters were far too cold and you wished you could simply stay beneath the covers where it was far more cozy.

But with the work that needed to be done, that simply wasn't an option.

The empty basket on your back shifted as you closed the door behind you, though you quickly readjusted it as you turned towards the forest that surrounded your home. Today's chore would be tiring: you needed to collect wood that could be chopped up and be used as fuel for your fireplace. It was simple enough to say that, but all parts of that process would be obnoxious, from finding and putting what you found into the basket, to carting it all back to your home and then chopping it up so it would be fit for use.

Obnoxious, but you needed your fireplace to remain lit so you could survive the winter.

Though as you looked up to the sky, you noted that the weather didn't look promising. Whereas the day prior had been rather clear, now the skies were dark and clouded, and there was something in the air that felt strange.

If you were to guess, a blizzard was likely going to hit the area, and soon.

You sighed to yourself. That work would need to be completed in short period of time. The last thing you needed was needing to go out and try to chop wood while a blizzard raged around you.

Best to get to it now.

After pushing your scarf up over your nose, you adjusted the basket once more before you walked forward, your boots sinking into the snow as you did so.

But when you had traveled a few steps, you noticed something.

At the very edge of the clearing, in between a pair of large pine trees, you spotted two prominent footprints that were set deep into the snow. Curious, you walked in that direction, wanting to know what might have left those prints. Most likely it had been some sort of animal.

You felt you were correct when you reached them and saw a faint indents in the snow where the claws had at one point gouged in. And when you looked at how long the prints were, it was clear that whatever had been standing here had been large.

A bear?

The thought made you gulp; bears being awake during the winter was dangerous, as they were always angry if they were awoken before the season had ended. They'd be hungry, too, and with a lack of food to be found in the forest, they were generally driven to find the food they wanted in the homes of people like yourself. Glancing back at your cabin, you found that the prints had been facing the door directly. An image came to mind from that: one of a bear standing in the snow as it watched your home while you were blissfully unaware inside.

But you hadn't heard anything the night prior. You had slept rather soundly, and that was part of what left you being reluctant to exit your bed that morning.

If you had made more noise in your sleep, would the bear have tried to come in?

A shudder ran through you as you thought of what might have happened if it had heard you. No doubt you would be dead, torn to pieces by a wild animal.

That would have been a gruesome way to go.

Looking back down at the footprints, you noticed that there were more than just the two, and your eyes followed along as you saw that the beast had decided to turn west, walking away from your home.

That was the direction of Willsden, you noted. Worry then hit you as you hoped everyone there was alright. Ideally, you would have tried to head towards the town and see if that was the case, but when you glanced up to the sky again, it was clear that you didn't have time for that. You still needed to collect your firewood, and even if you did decide to forgo that, the journey both to and from the town would eat up too much of your time. At the absolute worst, you would get lost in the snow and freeze to death.

It was better to continue doing what you needed to, and then, once it was safe to make the trip down to Willsden, you would do so.

You set off again, telling yourself that the people of the town would be fine. The town had a lot of people living there, after all. If some lumbering beast was on the attack, they would no doubt notice quickly. They also had the manpower to defend themselves, so whatever fight might ensue likely wouldn't last long.

Before you turned your mind completely to the chore you needed to start, you glanced again at the set of tracks.

…. Strange.

Looking at the placement of the tracks, it almost seemed as if the animal had been walking on it's hind feet the whole time.

….. The thought was utterly ridiculous, you told yourself.

That was the last you thought of the prints before you settled onto your task.

The basket on your back was nearly full with the soon-to-be firewood when you noticed an unexpected flash of color within the whites and browns of the forest. Turning your head to look, your brows furrowed as you couldn't quite make it out whatever it was as a dead bush stood in your way, blocking you from seeing whatever it was clearly.

Whatever it was, though, it was red.

You shouldn't have bothered to get a closer look. You had work to do and a short time limit to do it, if the clouds above you were any indication. All you would be doing by pushing your way past the bush was wasting spare seconds that you needed to make sure you would continue to live comfortably through the winter.

Yet your curiosity managed to be stronger and you did just that, the tall branches of the bush clinging to your clothes as you made your way by, snapping a few of them in the process. The sounds echoed out into the empty forest as you did so, and it served as a sign as to how alone you were within that space.

Though, evidently, you weren't alone completely.

The thing that had caught your attention could now be seen clearly, and as you stared down at the ground just as you had earlier outside of your cabin, it was obvious that this thing that had caught your attention was blood.

It marred the pure white snow with bright red spots, spattered across the surface like ink blots on parchment. They were sporadic and spread out, and you realized then that they trailed off in a singular direction. As your eyes followed them, you found that alongside them were gouges in the snow, like something had been dragged through. Almost seeming like footprints.

You would have noted another strange parallel when compared to what you had found hours earlier had it not been for the question that interrupted you:

Were these made by a human?

The size and the way the feet had dragged seemed similar to the footprints you might leave behind in such conditions. It certainly seemed unlikely that these would have been left by an animal. So a person had been through here. Given the blood trail that followed after the messy prints in the snow, whoever it had been was wounded.

Grievously so.

Without another thought you began to walk forward, following along the trail as you kept your eyes open for any sign of the person who had left it behind.

The trail was a long one, and often meandered about as the drops of blood and the footprints in the snow were erratic, going from one end of a clearing before doubling back and continuing the opposite way. You wondered what had driven this person to walk about in such a way – had they been out of their mind from the cold? Or had they been looking for something? Perhaps some sort of shelter before they attempted to dress their wounds. It was possible they had managed to find such a place.

Though with how much blood you could see, you had a bad feeling that whoever it was would be long dead by the time you found them.

The wind was picking up, you noted. You needed to be home before the storm hit. But it felt just as important to follow and see who was at the end of the blood trail and what condition that person was in, if just so you could leave a marker to indicate where their body was so they could be retrieved at a later date.

You felt that it was the least you could do.

Time seemed to pass slowly as you followed. How far you were traveling away from your cabin worried you – it wasn't smart to rely entirely on the trail you had followed, not with a blizzard that lurked overhead and threatened to cover the path you had made for yourself with freshly fallen snow. If you didn't find the wounded person soon, you would be forced to turn back, despite knowing the guilt that would weigh on you after such an action.

Just a little longer, you told yourself. If you didn't find this person within the next few minutes, then you would abandon the search effort.

As luck would have it, it was only a few paces more before you heard something. Something that sounded like a human voice groaning out in pain. Hearing that renewed your energy, and you rushed forward along the blood trail, your neck straining as you looked around the trees, trying to spot the person you had heard.

And when you walked past a gnarled old oak tree that sat upon an incline, you saw someone.

A man.

One that you didn't recognize. Not from the town or even beyond the slice of the world you called home.

His long black hair was frayed and messy as it flowed down his back and shoulders, and the blood that was speckled in his hair matched the blood that was present in the slight bits of hair upon his face. More worryingly, there was a wound on his shoulder, a small puncture wound that could have come from a bullet if the dried blood that still managed to look bright against his pale skin told you anything. His skin was also decidedly frostbitten, and the patches of red marred his cheeks, feet and hands in particular. As for his clothing, he only had on a ragged pair of pants that looked ready to fall apart.

He looked as though he was on the verge of death. But none of that seemed to concern him.

He was fully focused on the knife he was stabbing into the side of his torso. On the left of his body, just beneath his ribs, a curtain of blood had long since fallen and dried, and it was clear that at one point, he had been walking with the open wound as the left leg of his pants was also soaked in the substance.

Fresh blood was dripping down his skin as the blade he'd forced into his flesh moved to and fro, his numb hands moving the hilt as best they could with their limited mobility. His teeth were clenched as he did so, and the look on his face was nothing short of desperate.

Why was he doing that?

Then he let out a pained noise, and with both hands, he pulled again on the hilt.

You stood still, staring at him as you tried to understand why he was doing this.

It was almost as if he was trying to dig something out of his side.

He breathed hard as he continued to pull on the hilt before eventually giving up, letting out a loud gasp of pain as he fell back against the tree trunk in frustration.

Then he noticed you.

Gray eyes widened upon the realization, and he sat still for a few moments, as though he was amazed that he had only just now realized that he wasn't alone.

You didn't get a chance to speak before his face scrunched up in pain and he doubled over.

You didn't know what his situation was, but seeing that was enough to break you out of your stupor, and you rushed over immediately, pulling the basket off of your back before you knelt down and put your hands over his, trying to get them off of the knife hilt so you could remove it from him as safely as you could.

Only you weren't allowed to do so.

Without removing his grip on the knife, he pushed himself against you to shove your hands away. With how weak he seemed to be, the amount of strength that was in that shove was surprising.

You almost didn't hear it when he spoke at first, his heavy breathing making it difficult to understand him.

“I need it out of me.”

After a moment, you responded.

“It?” you asked, confused.

He didn't reply. Or rather, he couldn't. He was groaning in pain again, and you saw the veins in his forehead pulse as he struggled with the knife.

“You're going to kill yourself,” you told him.

He wasn't listening.

He only continued to dig that knife into his side.

Once again, you watched, truly uncertain of what you should do.

Except no, you knew what you should do. You should get that knife away from him. Stop him before he hurt himself any further, so then he might have a chance of surviving.

But with how determined he was to do whatever it was he thought he was doing, you didn't think you would be successful in getting him to stop. Nor did you want to wrestle a knife away from a man who was clearly crazed from the cold and his other injuries, and especially not when he wasn't as feeble as you had first thought. He could easily injure you if you tried to do that, or worse.

So then what were you supposed to do? Wait like this? Leave him?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard a strange sound come from where he had stabbed the knife into himself. A sound that resembled metal scraping against metal.

…. Something really was stuck in him.

And since it was clear that he wasn't going anywhere until it was out of him, you had little other choice.

The warning glare he gave you when you reached your hands out to him was harsh, but his gaze softened when you placed your hands on top of his as you said “please, let me help you.”

The man didn't answer, but he turned his attention back to the knife. This time, your steady hands helped his shaking ones when he began to pull at the knife again.

It didn't feel as though this was the right thing to do. Even with the knowledge that there was something inside of him, surely the correct thing to do was to take him somewhere warm and bandage his wounds, and then once the weather was more mild you would take him to the local physician. Surely whatever it was could wait to be taken care of until after he was out of the cold.

With every passing second that you tried to help you worried that you were only hastening this man's death. That the chances he had of surviving even until the next hour were only growing more and more slim the longer you kept this up with him. With every pull you made on the knife and the blood that came out of the gash that was only increasing in size, you were forced to wonder that if this man were to die, how much of his fate would ultimately rest upon your shoulders?

Then it came out.

You had felt it through the way you held the end of the knife hilt, how it traveled through the open wound, over his exposed insides until it reached the outside. The knife came out from his side forcefully and the thing inside of him fell out. It was too small and the blood coming from the wound was too great. Whatever had fallen out of him, it vanished into the snow next to him. The only thing you could discern was that it had been silver in color.

You didn't need to tell him that something had come out; immediately after his shoulders relaxed and he let out a sigh of relief, the kind you hear when a moment of great agony had finally passed.

Now that it was out, he might listen to you.

You took that opportunity to speak, saying “we can't stay here. There's a storm-”

He fell forward.

Onto you.

You barely managed to catch him, holding him beneath his arms and keeping him from falling face first into the snow. His head rested against your shoulder and he shuddered, his eyes now closed. He was unconscious.

Though if he stayed out here in these conditions any longer, he'd be dead soon. With all the blood he'd lost, it was amazing he'd held on for as long as he did. You needed to get him to shelter as soon as possible.

But at this point, would he even make it?

Despite his chances being grim, you knew that you needed to try to get him back alive. After tearing off a bit of your skirt to wrap around the wounds on his side and shoulder, and then wrapping your own cloak around his shoulders in a desperate bid to keep him somewhat warm, you began the task of taking him home.

The way you transported him through the woods was unceremonious, to say the least. His height and weight when compared to you meant that you couldn't sling one of his arms over your shoulder and carry him that way, and even if you could, the basket on your back would have gotten in the way. So you were forced to hook your arms beneath his armpits and drag him back to your cabin while you shivered from the cold after having given up the protection your cloak offered for his sake. The basket only made the task all the more difficult with how heavy it was. It was exhausting, and a look at all of the blood still spattered on his skin had you doubting more and more that he would make it back alive. The state of his heels was also worrying, as with every pull you made over a rough tree root, they appeared more scraped and raw every time you looked at them.

All you could do was hope that the makeshift bandages you'd fashioned on the spot were enough to staunch the bleeding in the areas that were worst.

Somehow, you managed it. After a grueling forty five minutes of dragging the unconscious man and praying that he didn't die on the way there, and after the anxiety that swelled within you once the storm finally started with the snowflakes that began to rain down from the cloudy sky, you caught sight of your cabin in the distance, and that was enough to give you a burst of energy to take you the rest of the way.

It was good timing. The wind was picking up and it was only getting colder. By the time you dragged him inside and slammed the door shut, a great deal of snow had managed to get inside as well. And with how high the snow had risen when you had returned, you noted that you very well may need to dig a path out from your door.

But that wasn't important right now.

You turned your attention to the man. The exhaustion of having dragged him through the woods had you falling to your knees before you crawled over to where he lay and placing your hands on him, reaching for his mouth and the side of his neck to see if you could feel some sign of life. Either his breath or that of a pulse.

…..

It was soft, but you felt a little bit of hot hair hitting your fingers when you gently pulled his lips apart. The pulse you felt in his neck was just as faint, but it was still there.

He was still alive.

The relief you felt upon that realization was so great that you reached down to hold him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed your face against his hair.

“I'm so glad,” you murmured, “I'm so glad you're alive.”

With the way you had your face pressed against him, you didn't notice how his eyelids fluttered open.

It was only for a brief moment, and when you pulled yourself away from him, he was unconscious once more.

The first thing you had done once you had fully composed yourself was properly clean and dress his wounds for fear of infection. You had no idea how long he'd been in that state, and the knife that he'd been stabbing into his side certainly wouldn't have helped in keeping that side wound clean. Although oddly enough, when you went about cleaning and dressing those wounds, you found that they didn't seem as bad as they did when you had first discovered him. And despite your certainty that he would be suffering from frostbite, his skin now showed little sign of any such issues. Perhaps he hadn't been out there as long as you thought.

Your mind went to your second priority, which was to get him warm as he was still ice cold to the touch. Once again you were forced to drag him awkwardly, this time to your bed as you had no other place to put him. By that point your limbs were screaming over the amount of exertion you had put them through that day, and now your movements were even more slowed and pained as you dragged him across the wooden floor. Getting him onto the bed was no easy task either, as he slipped off once or twice while you were trying to place him, forcing you to grab at him as best you could to keep him from tumbling onto the floor.

Eventually you were successful in placing him on the bed, much to the relief of your sore muscles. Given that you had no clothes that would fit him, the best you could do was cover him with as many blankets as you were able to spare. The man ended up bundled on your bed, the sheets up to his neck.

After taking a step back, it didn't feel like there was anymore you could do for him.

Whether he lived through this or not all depended on his own resilience.

You then took a moment for yourself to breathe, and from that point, the rest of your day didn't last long. The amount of effort you had put in to bringing him back to your home had drained you, and you barely had the energy to make yourself something to eat before you felt the strong pull of sleep overwhelm you. You ended up settling onto the floor not far from your fireplace, a few blankets placed beneath you to protect you from the hard surface of the floor while another was pulled around you.

You spared one last glance at the man from your makeshift bed, and found that he was the same as he had been earlier.

There wasn't anything more you could do for him, you reminded yourself.

Nothing other than sincerely hope he would pull through.

The blizzard was going strong when you awoke the next morning, bursts of wind hitting the entrance of your cabin repeatedly as the winter chill tried to force its way in. But the front door stood strong, and as you sleepily added more wood into the fireplace, the warmth within the room remained as it was at a comfortable temperature.

As much as you wanted to focus on the stiffness in your back that came from sleeping on the floor and the ache in your limbs from the strain you had put them through yesterday, you turned your attention to the man you had rescued.

He was still unconscious. But as you took a few steps closer, you noted that some color had returned to his cheeks. His breathing was also more even, though the longer you stared, he showed no signs of waking up anytime soon.

But he did seem better than he had when you went to sleep, and that was a sign of good progress for his recovery.

You hoped it was, at least.

With the blizzard keeping you inside, you spent your morning doing your best to care for him. After propping his head up, you managed to get a bit of water down his throat before you checked his wounds. The gash on his side seemed better. It actually looked smaller than you remembered it being when you first saw it. And the wound on his shoulder didn't seem serious at all once you lifted up the bandages.

That seemed a bit odd, though with all of the focus on the side wound, perhaps you were incorrectly remembering how severe the one on the shoulder had been. But as long as he was getting better, that was all that mattered.

Once you had changed out the bandages, you set about cleaning him up a bit more. You wiped away the blood that was still on his skin, doing your best to apply enough force to wipe it off but not to cause further pain. You even went as far as to brush out his hair, removing the tangles and the blood that had dried and clotted in the long black strands.

He looked much better once you had finished, and you remained seated on the edge of the bed while you watched him steadily breathing in and out.

Though you were still unable to tell when he would wake up, at that moment it seemed guaranteed that he would be alright.

A relieved sigh left your lips before you got up from the bed to make yourself a meal.

The mystery man slept through the entire day, and again on the day that followed. You did your best as you looked after him, making sure he was warm and that his bandages were clean. And while you weren't sure if there was anything you could feed him in his current state, you made sure to bring cups of water to his lips to ensure he had enough fluids in his system.

That night you felt that he looked better than he had before, and you went to sleep hopeful that he would soon awaken.

Your wish was granted the next morning.

A chill in the air awoke you suddenly, pulling you out of sleep as the warmth you so desperately craved was snatched away from you. You pulled yourself up with a groan as you looked about, trying to find out what had caused you to lose your rest.

You figured it out quickly when you turned and saw that the cabin door standing wide open with a pile of snow that had tumbled inside.

Your mind became clear in an instant as you wondered who had done that.

Then your gaze went to the bed to check on your guest, only to find that it was empty.

He had gone outside? In his condition?

Now that you were fully awake, you jumped to your feet and rushed to the door, worried that he had wandered off so far that you wouldn't catch sight of him. The snow was still coming down hard, and if he wasn't in the immediate vicinity, there would be little you could do for him. You couldn't take the risk of getting lost yourself to go after him.

It was a relief when you stopped at the open doorway and saw him.

He stood out in the open, between a pair of pine trees, clothed only in the trousers you had left him in and one of the blankets you had wrapped around him. Though it didn't remain there long as it slowly dripped off his shoulders before it ended up on the snow around him. Yet he didn't seem to notice or care that he was standing half naked in the freezing cold.

Instead, he was facing your direction, staring at the cabin in what seemed to be…. Amazement? Surprise? You weren't sure; it was hard to tell what exactly that expression was with the snowflakes that were still swirling about.

Right. The snow. The snow that was fast entering through the open door of the cabin, that was showing no signs of stopping and that your injured guest was still standing in. Enough of the snow had fallen that it was deep enough to submerge up to his knees, and he had no shoes. Or socks. Or anything other than the tattered trousers that were barely holding themselves together.

Best to get him back in case the frostbite managed to get him this time.

His attention was finally turned to you when you walked out, calling to him as you did so.

“Come back inside!”

He didn't make any move, and it didn't look like he understood what you said.

Wrapping your own blanket tighter around yourself, you huffed as you approached him. Trudging out into the snow like this was the last thing you wanted, especially when you weren't dressed for the outdoors. Your nightgown did little to protect you in that moment, so you tried your best to move fast, though the large amount of snow made it difficult.

The man continued to stare at you and said nothing, even when you reached him. Even when you knelt down and pulled up the blanket from the surface. Even when you once again wrapped it around him, he still seemed out of sorts, so you decided it was best to be gentle with him.

“Come back inside,” you repeated.

That time you put one of your hands in his while the other went to his shoulder, doing your best to be encouraging as you added “please?”

After a few moments more of him staring at you with a bewildered expression, he nodded. With that, he allowed you to lead him back inside, much to your relief. The cold air was brutal against your exposed skin, and you didn't want to imagine how bad it must have been for him.

The door was slammed shut once the two of you were back within the cabin, though now without some difficulty as quite a lot of snow had gotten in by that point, much to your dismay. Oh well. It would melt soon enough, wouldn't it? Besides, right now you needed to give your full attention to your guest.

The snow that covered his hair and shoulders quickly joined the pile on the floor as you brushed it off of him as best you could before you ultimately took off the blanket you had wrapped him in and grabbed another off of the bed, repeating the action you had made outside when you placed the fresh one on his shoulders. He only continued to stare at you with that same bewildered look.

While you found the way he acted strange, you decided not to think much about it – if he had any memory of what it had been like a few days prior, perhaps he was just astonished that he was still alive.

“Here,” you said, taking hold of his arm as you prepared to lead him again, “lay back down. Your injuries are bad.”

Again, he said nothing but allowed you to do as you pleased, letting you take him back to the bed and tucking the sheets over him once he took his place on the mattress. Part of you wanted to ask what he'd been thinking by going outside, but that was a question to be saved for later, if you remembered it.

“Are you feeling alright?” you asked him. It felt best to keep your questions to ones that could be answered with a 'yes' or a 'no', at least for the time being.

He was looking about the cabin, taking everything in when you asked your question, and when he turned his attention back to you, he nodded.

That was a relief, and you smiled at him as you replied “am I right in thinking that you're hungry? You must be, after all the time you spent asleep.”

Again, he nodded.

“Alright. If you'll wait, I can make a breakfast for the two of us,” you said.

He replied with yet another nod.

Things were quiet as you cooked, and you were happy to be next to the fireplace after the brief amount of time outside. The minute or so you had spent out there had chilled you to the core, and you hated to wonder about what it had been like for him.

You glanced over to find him watching you, and you thought that perhaps now you might try to get some answers, if he had any.

“Was there a reason for why you went outside?” you asked.

His brows furrowed, and he turned his head so he was staring up at the ceiling. And then, for the first time, he spoke.

“I don't know,” he said.

“Ah. Alright then.”

Clearing your throat, you decided to push forward with your next question.

“Do you know what happened to you?” you asked.

At that, his mouth pressed into a line and he looked uncomfortable. Quickly, you added “if you aren't able to talk about it, that's fine.”

“No, no, it's not that,” he told you, “I…. Uh, I don't…. I don't remember.”

“Oh.”

What exactly had he gone through before you found him?

“It looked as though you'd been attacked,” you said, “you have bullet wounds.”

“You were behaving strangely when I found you, as well,” you added.

He shook his head.

“I don't remember,” he reiterated.

Then he turned his head towards you as he asked “where are we?”

“In my cabin?”

“Yes, but where is it?”

“Ah. We're outside Willsden. About eight miles away from there,” you explained.

“Have you been in contact with anyone from there?”

You blinked.

“No?” you responded.

“I see.”

He went back to staring at the ceiling, though you noticed movement beneath the blankets after. His hand went to his side – the one that he'd been digging the knife into, where he'd gotten that bullet out of him.

Foolishly, you only then realized why he had been asking about where the two of you were.

“I'm sorry – with the weather still being bad, it'll take some time for the roads to clear up even after the snow stops, but as soon as it does I'll fetch a doctor for you,” you told him.

For some reason, he seemed surprised when you said that, and again he stared at you for a few moments.

You wondered if you really were as strange as he seemed to perceive you to be.

When the food was finished cooking, you moved to help him sit up in the bed only to be surprised at how easily he lifted himself up without your assistance. After the way you had found him half frozen to death in the snow and then the days that had followed, you would have thought him to be weaker, yet he moved without much trouble, though the wound in his side seemed to still be giving him some trouble as you saw him wince and grab at it again. At least the shoulder wound seemed to be better.

He spoke again when you were in the middle of your meal, having paused with his own as he asked you “what's your name?”

You answered him, and asked for his in turn.

Nobunaga, he told you.

The introduction seemed to help him, as once the two of you had the other's name, he was more open with you when he spoke. He'd been traveling, he told you, going from town to town in search of work. While he had been on his way to Willsden from Doveport before he wound up where you found him in the woods. Again, he told you that he didn't remember what had happened to him, but it seemed safe enough to conclude that he had been attacked, robbed and left for dead.

Hearing that, and remembering the way he had been when you first laid eyes on him, all you could feel was immense pity for the man. What sort of people leave another person to die in such a manner? Although it was silly to ask that question as you knew the answer – the number of people in the world who had no issue cutting short the lives of others for the sake of their own greed were far too many.

“I don't suppose you have an idea as to how long you were out there,” you said.

“Since the night prior,” Nobunaga answered as he sighed.

“The night?” you asked, confused. It didn't seem likely to you that one man could have lasted that many hours outside in the cold with the way he was.

Nobunaga seemed to realize that as well, as he corrected himself with “ah, maybe I'm misremembering. I couldn't have been out that long. So it must have been the morning at the latest.”

You nodded, as that made more sense.

“I wonder why I didn't hear any gunfire,” you then said, “wherever it was where you were attacked, it couldn't have been that far from here.”

“I do remember bits and pieces where I was walking for a long while. Maybe the area where I was attacked was further away,” he suggested.

Nobunaga then added “or maybe you were in too deep a sleep.”

“Ah… I suppose.”

It felt slightly embarrassing to admit it, but that explanation would make sense. It didn't bode well for you to sleep so deeply if something was wrong, however. But regardless of that, the person or people who had attacked Nobunaga posed a threat and they would need to be taken care of.

You got his attention again as you said “as soon as the road opens up, I'll fetch a doctor for you, and I'll report the crime as well.”

“Report it?” he asked.

You nodded.

Instead of seeming relieved, he seemed wary, his eyebrows furrowing as he said “I don't see much point in doing that. Those thieves are likely long gone by now. It's best to not bother.”

“Not bother?”

That didn't seem like a normal response. Was Nobunaga ashamed that he had been attacked?

“No one will blame you for what they did,” you said.

“I'm not worried about that.”

“Then may I ask what you are worried about?”

Nobunaga paused, his mind seemingly racing to find an excuse.

Why was he trying so hard to convince you to drop it?

“I just think there's no point because,” he began, waiting half a moment before he continued with “I'm…. I'm not getting any of the things they stole back. And I don't care much about what they took, anyway. I'm also still alive, so I have the satisfaction of knowing that they failed to kill me.”

He seemed hesitant about everything he said except the last part. That seemed to be the only part that seemed genuine from what he was telling you. Though why he wanted you to stay quiet was still a mystery.

…. Maybe he was still confused after that time he'd spent in the cold.

“I think you're right about that, that we won't retrieve your items,” you agreed, “but if there are murderers running about the area, others should be warned about it. What if they attack someone else? We could help the others in the town if we tell them.”

“Ah…… Right….”

It was clear he hadn't thought of that, and he didn't have any argument to make against that point.

Nobunaga leaned back on the bed as he continued “shouldn't you be worried about yourself, though? It doesn't look like you have any way to defend against murderers.”

“I don't, but I also think we'll be fine for the time being.”

“Why?”

“There is an advantage to the weather being so poor,” you stated, “no one will be coming here while the outside is still like that.”

Nobunaga nodded slowly, though his gaze was a bit distant after you said that. Was he worrying about his attackers finding him again?

“We'll be okay,” you told him, “I'm certain of it.”

He nodded slowly again.

Shortly thereafter he said that he wanted to rest more, and you retired to read quietly beside the fireplace while he settled back into the bed.

It was almost pitch black in the room when you were suddenly awoken as an unsettling feeling washed over you, a feeling that your subconscious was able to recognize. That it was strong enough to rouse you from sleep was odd, and even more odd was the sensation that had been recognized.

It felt as though someone had been watching you.

Someone had been standing over you, watching you as they took every slight movement you made, every soft breath you took as your tightly wrapped blanket rose and fell in a steady rhythm.

Why had they watched you so intently?

Some part of your mind told you with certainty that was what had happened; even though you hadn't been awake for it, you felt certain of that fact. After taking a few moments to process those thoughts, you glanced over at the one person who could have been doing such a thing.

Though it was hard to make out in the dark, you were able to see enough of Nobunaga's form to tell that he was in bed, and it appeared that he was asleep.

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness further, and though you couldn't make out everything, you felt that he didn't look as though he had moved from the bed at all; he was still in the same position he had been in when you both had retired for the evening. It certainly didn't seem as though he had quickly returned to the bed once he realized you were awake, and you surely would have heard him if he did. Not only that, how could he have moved that fast with his injuries still being as grave as they were?

It seemed unlikely.

You looked away from him as you stretched out your arms.

You were imagining things, likely due to the poor quality of sleep that came as a result from resting on the floor. But you had no alternative to that at the moment, so it was all you could do to simply make the best of it.

Once again, you laid down on your makeshift bed while you did your best to ignore the feeling of discomfort that it brought.

Instead, your mind went to the brief conversation you and Nobunaga had before you both had gone to sleep. Right before you had settled down, he had asked you about what you had said to him when he was on the brink of death.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“When you brought me inside,” he clarified, “I think I was partially awake for that, and…. I thought I heard you say something.”

“Oh. Ah….”

You remembered the words that had tumbled out of your mouth at that time, ones that were brought out through sheer relief when you had realized that he was still alive. For whatever reason, that moment felt more embarrassing now that you knew he was somewhat conscious for it, though the source of that embarrassment was unknown.

“I… I may have said something, yes,” you answered, looking away from him.

He nodded again, his eyes going back up to the ceiling.

The next morning he was awake before you were, and the way he sat up in bed almost made it seem as though he was waiting for you to wake up.

You weren't able to get out a greeting before he spoke.

“I realized that I haven't thanked you once for saving me,” Nobunaga said, “so…. Thank you. I really mean it.”

You hadn't even thought of that until now, but his gratitude was appreciated as you smiled at him as you answered “I'm just happy I was able to help.”

Nobunaga looked away quickly as a blush formed on his cheeks.

[arias-diaryy]

Under New Management

Nobunaga x Reader

warnings: yandere, fem reader

synopsis: Following Uvo's death, Nobunaga decides to take you in.

3.2k words / this is a reupload of an older fic from my (now deleted) old account, so it probs looks familiar. i didn't have any new fic lined up for Nobu's birthday so ur gonna have to take this, sorry!

Nobunaga closes the door to Uvo’s place behind him. The place is familiar, and it’s as if Uvogin could come back at any moment. There are a few day-old beer cans on the living room coffee table and one of his large jackets thrown over the sofa, waiting to be worn again. If he was any less jaded, he might have thought Uvogin was still alive.

The house, alas, is empty. It’s an older building on the outskirts of its nearest town. It’s one of many slightly run-down homes that are left (mostly) unoccupied in the area. It’s not derelict by any means, but it's probably seen better days. He isn’t here to judge the foundations of the house though, how there are some cracks in the wall from where the door was slammed with too much force or how there are weak spots in the floor. No, he’s here for you. 

You, who's down in the basement, are probably still waiting for Uvogin. You, whom he’s only met a handful of times, spoken to even less. He’s jerked off to you more times than he’d like to admit, something Nobunaga would have never admitted to Uvogin, not when the man was so finicky over you.

Nobunaga continues to walk through the home, a chapstick tube catching his eye on the counter. It was placed with some spare change, sunglasses that certainly belonged to Uvo and various keys. He pockets the keys, assuming he might need them later. Holding the chapstick in his hand, he examines it more closely. This was probably yours, based on the ‘Vanilla Apple” flavoring. With almost no shame and a mild sense of entitlement, he applies the chapstick to his lips. It’s like an indirect kiss. He puts that as well in his pocket.

His mind continues to linger on you as he takes his time looking around. He wonders how he’ll break the news to you, he isn’t sure what approach to take. He wonders if you’ll cry, or if you’d even believe him. You two have seldom spoken with each other, Uvo did most of the talking for you on the rare occasions you were present when Nobunaga visited. The longest conversation Nobunaga ever had with you probably didn’t even last ten minutes, and it consisted of him asking questions while you gave very short responses. Uvogin had always been in earshot. As if daring one of you (mostly Nobunaga) to say something out of line. It previously hadn’t been an issue if the two of them went after the same woman, but now all of a sudden Uvo was so uppity about if Nobu even looked at you for too long.

Nobunaga can remember feeling a sense of annoyance at your very existence in the beginning. It ebbed and flowed, but it was always consistent. The more time Uvogin spent with you, the less time Nobunaga got to spend with him. In addition to the fact that Nobu couldn’t make a suggestive joke about you without Uvogin snapping at him, it didn’t make Nobunaga particularly fond of you. He hadn’t even met you yet and already had a soured image of you. It didn’t help that it seemed like everyone else had someone to return home to, meanwhile, all Nobu had been his right hand.

The day Nobunaga did get to meet you, he still didn’t see what it was about you that had Uvogin so worked up. You were cute, sure, but he couldn’t point out anything remarkable, other than that you had particularly nice legs. Maybe whatever it was about you was something only Uvogin saw. You didn’t say anything to him, which he was fine with. You were probably just shy. Uvo joked later that you didn’t like him very much, which couldn’t have been true. Nobu hadn’t made that bad of a first impression, surely.

It was only in the coming weeks that his distaste for you would warp into something else. You were cute, and something much more tangible than the women in erotic magazines. A thought crossed his mind that he’d probably be as uptight as Uvo was about you if you were his. Maybe if Uvo wasn’t so strict about who you got to interact with, you’d give Nobunaga a chance. 

He idles about for a few minutes, a strange suspense hanging in the air that only he can sense. He wonders if you’re still down there or if you somehow escaped. Maybe you’ve withered away. He wonders if you think about him or even remember him. As he stands in front of the heavy basement door, he supposes it’s time to see what all the fuss over you was about.

-

If you had to guess, you’d say it’s been about a week since you last saw Uvo.

The basement isn’t so bad. It’s got an old television to keep you entertained. It only works half of the time, but it’s the thought that counts. There are a few blankets and the mattress you sleep on is comfortable. Uvogin left you with some water bottles and food (mostly snacks) to keep you from starving to death, though he usually wasn’t gone for more than two weeks. Even then, you were only resigned to the basement if he was going somewhere far. You never knew where he went, and it all seemed to be pretty last minute when he did go, but he always told you when he’d come back. He should have come back days ago. 

Part of you hopes to see him again. All things considered, he wasn’t the worst. If you can look past the obvious (the threats of violence if you ever stepped out of line, which you stopped doing months ago, and the kidnapping and the inability to ever leave), Uvo wasn’t so bad. He went out of his way to make sure you didn’t go hungry. He brought you gifts and anything you asked for. He made you happy.

Maybe being forced to be a violent man's live-in girlfriend for 11 months has taken a toll on your mental health. But you were alive. The few bruises he gave you were long faded. Uvogin was good to you, surely he wouldn’t abandon you in his basement now. Wouldn’t he have given you a heads-up? Had he gotten bored? Have you been too good? Maybe you should have acted out more. You haven’t been able to sleep much. Every noise would wake you up in the dead of night because of how much you wanted to see Uvogin again.

Your head perks up at the sound of the basement door slowly opening. It’s not Uvogin, it can’t be. You would have heard his heavy footsteps, and he would have announced himself somehow. Instead, you’re met with a man who is only faintly familiar to you. He’s tall with a face that’s on the gaunt side, though not outright unhealthy. His clothing doesn’t stand out, with beige pants and a green long sleeve. His most distinct feature is his hair, which is long and slightly greasy from what you can see.

“You’re still here, that’s good.” He says nonchalantly, as if you had anywhere else to go. Nobunaga’s eyes drift to the chains around your ankle. “You must have given him a lot of trouble if he had to chain you up.” He remarks, trying to ease up any tension with what was meant to be a joke. It isn’t working. You stare at him blankly, scanning his face. You’ve seen this guy before, but at the moment, his face isn’t recognizable to you. Nobunaga sighs, looking you over. You look sick, and he isn’t sure if you actually are or if it’s the unflattering lighting of the basement. Once locating the light switch, he flicks it on, and you don’t look much better. There are dark circles beneath your eyes, your lips are cracked, and your complexion is dull and lifeless.

Nobunaga comes closer, crouching down next to the mattress. He takes the chain into his hands, eyeing it over. It isn’t particularly thick or very heavy. It attaches to the wall, and there’s a cuff around your ankle to keep you from going far. He hadn’t found an obvious key in the basement, so he settles for using his strength (and nen) to simply break the metal chain without warning. The way you flinch doesn’t go unnoticed, but at least you’ll be able to walk out of here now. You scoot away from him, sitting up and against the wall rather than laying lethargically on your side. 

“Hey, come on, we’ve met before,” Nobunaga says, the discontentment in his voice thinly veiled. He fishes your chapstick out of his pants pocket. “Look, here. This is yours, isn’t it?” After a few seconds of warily staring at him, it finally clicks. It’s your kidnapper's equally strange friend, whose name you barely remembered. You tentatively take the chapstick from him, untwisting the cap, and apply some of the chapstick liberally, and there’s an awful fluttering feeling in Nobunaga’s chest.

He wonders if you’d somehow notice that he just used it minutes earlier. He averts his gaze, suddenly remembering the key ring he pocketed away. Again, without warning, he grasps your ankle, holding you in place as he tries out the different keys on the cuff. After some trying, it eventually comes off. There's a slight imprint of the cuff on your skin, but it hasn’t torn or broken your skin. 

“You’re Nobunaga.” You croak out, finally remembering his name. He grins, relief audible in his voice. “There you go, I knew you couldn’t have forgotten me.” You don’t smile back. Something must be wrong if Uvo was letting someone else get so close. Nobunaga’s gaze meets yours again, and he waits for you to speak. He’s expecting some sort of thanks for his good deeds. “Where’s Uvogin?” His expression falls slightly. Right, he forgot that you still think Uvogin is going to come home at some point.

“He’s dead.” 

There’s a heavy pause after he speaks. Nobunaga stares at you, waiting for you to emote, but you only stare back. He had hoped, expected, that if anyone else were to outwardly share in his grief it would be you. He stifles a frustrated sigh. The other members of the Spider grieved for Uvogin, nobody was thrilled about his death, Nobunaga knows that yet he can’t ignore the feeling that none of them truly understood. He chalks it up to shock, surely you’ll properly react to Uvogin’s death in the coming days.

The man wastes little time, not wanting to sit around in the dusty basement any longer. Without warning, Nobunaga takes you by the wrist and pulls you up, forcing you to stand on wobbly legs. He’s all too eager to have you lean on him for support as you get used to walking again. The days of being chained to the ground hadn’t done your muscles any good. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

Nobunaga’s words replay in your mind, yet they never truly stick. For half of a second, you’re relieved that your kidnapper is dead. Not arrested, dead. On the other hand, you’re now left with an equally dangerous man. What exactly was going to happen to you now? You weren’t clueless about Uvogin’s crimes, far from it. Uvogin boasted about the stealing and killing he did. At first, you thought it was a scare tactic, something to keep you from acting out, but he was truly proud of his proclivity for violence. Would you be killed? Surely the Troupe wouldn’t just let you go, it’d never be that easy.

As if Nobunaga could see the cogs turning in your mind, he speaks up again. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you from now on.” His voice takes a softer tone, trying to be reassuring. Each step up and out of the basement only makes the pit in your stomach deeper, to the point where you’re starting to feel sick.

Nobunaga barely picks up on your inner turmoil past what’s written all over your face. In his mind, him coming for you should be a great relief (and in a way, it is. You might have withered away in the basement if nobody bothered to come for you). Aside from the obvious fact that he can't let you go free, he doubts you’d be okay on your own at this point.

You’ve been dependent on Uvogin for anything like food or attention for nearly a year. As far as Nobunaga is concerned, you wouldn’t do well if you were thrown back into the real world and forced to take care of yourself. You might as well be a bird that’s had its wings clipped. Besides, it’s not like anyone else in the Troupe was going to take you in. Some of the other members had their own partners to occupy themselves with, Feitan even suggested outright killing you since you probably knew too much about the Troupe. It was only right that Nobunaga got to have you, he was the only one who was willing to anyway.

Besides, Chrollo did say that he could make the final decision about what happens to you.

He gets lost in his own thoughts; so caught up in his fantasies about his soon-to-be domestic life with you, that he almost doesn’t notice the way you dig your heels into the ground once he’s got you out of the basement and back on floor level. Nobunaga looks back at you, the corners of his lips twitching downward. 

“Come on, it’s fine. I told you that you’re safe with me.” He says, an impatient edge to his voice as he continues his firm hold of your wrist. “Do you want to bring some of your things with you?” Nobunaga says it as if he’s extending an olive branch. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you blink at him. “What?” “We aren’t going to be staying here.” Nobunaga says like it’s obvious. “You’re coming home with me.”

The apartment is quiet, save for the new pitter-patter of rain outside. You stand there idly, watching Nobunaga go through your and Uvogin’s belongings in the bedroom you used to share with Uvo. What right did he have to put his hands on your things? He shouldn’t be here, you think. You hold your tongue, the words not coming easy to you. You don’t attempt to help him or give any input on what clothes you want to take and what you want to leave behind. 

“I don’t believe you.” You say abruptly, still standing in the doorway. Nobunaga goes through the closet with his back to you, looking for a backpack or spare luggage. For half of a second, he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “Are you sure he’s dead?” You ask, which answers the question that was on the tip of his tongue. His expression falters slightly, but he doesn’t turn to meet your gaze. “I’m positive.” Nobunaga says with a strange finality to his tone.

He’s found a decent backpack now, more focused on deciding what belongings of yours to bring and which to leave behind. As far as he’s concerned, you two will have all the time in the world to talk about Uvogin once Nobunaga just gets you back to his place. It doesn’t even cross his mind that you wouldn’t be 100% thrilled at the prospect of being transferred over to his care.

You aren’t willing to drop the conversation topic though. You don’t want to believe Uvogin is gone, but there’s no way he’d willingly hand you over to this guy, right? “How? How did he die?” You press for answers, wondering if this is some prank. Nobunaga sighs, still not bothering to turn back to face you. “We can talk about that later.”

He says, taking your clothes out of the room’s dresser and putting them in the backpack. “You’re probably hungry. Why don’t you go get yourself something to eat? I’ll finish up here.” He says dismissively, effectively shooing you off. You tentatively leave the bedroom doorway after about a minute of silence, surprised that Nobunaga is so easily letting you out of his sight.

Wandering over to the kitchen, you numbly go about making yourself something to eat. It feels like muscle memory at this point, you’re so used to fixing up a sandwich for Uvogin. Today, though, most of the ingredients you’d usually use aren’t at your disposal. The lunch meat that was in the refrigerator expired last week, and there’s no cheese left. All you’re able to come up with is a sandwich with mayonnaise and some tomato slices.

You eat slowly, your appetite diminished from the turn of events and from how bland your sandwich is. Your eyes shift to the front door, and you can just barely hear Nobunaga back in Uvo’s bedroom. Maybe if you timed it right, you could get out of here. God knew if the front door was locked, but if you didn’t at least try, then you’d never know. You can hear the rain outside more clearly now. You’d be risking getting sick by running out in the rain, but that’s a small price to pay for freedom.

What would you even do, though? Where could you go that the Troupe wouldn’t follow? By the time you gather the nerve to take a few steps out of the kitchen, Nobu’s finished packing. “Do you feel better after eating something?” He asks, his voice catching you by surprise. He doesn’t comment on the quality of your sandwich. You choose not to answer him.

The rain picks up, now it’s impossible to treat it as a soothing white noise. It’s loud and you can hear the roaring winds with it. “I guess we can just stay here until the rain dies down.” Nobunaga proposes, and he motions for you to follow him. He sits on one of the two couches in Uvo’s living room, expecting you to sit next to him. You take your seat on the second couch, and Nobunaga’s able to hide his disappointment well enough.

He takes the remote and turns the television on, keeping the volume low. The news channel only talks about the current storm, it seems like you’ll both be stuck here for at least a few more hours. You focus on the news reporter, not wanting to look at Nobunaga. You can feel his staring, you know he’s waiting for you to talk to him. 

“What’s going to happen to me?” You finally break the silence, and Nobunaga seems just about amused at your inquiry. “I told you, I’m going to be taking care of you from now on.” He says it slowly, as if you didn’t understand him the first time.

His answer is too vague for you to do anything with, or maybe it’s the brain fog from not eating much in these past days. Nobunaga continues to look at you as if you were a beloved houseplant while you think over what he’s said. After a long pause, you finally respond. “I want to go home.” Once again, his smile falters and his voice returns to a more neutral one. “That isn’t going to happen. Your best option is to come just with me.” 

Nobunaga waits for you to say something, to give any indication that you at least understand your circumstances. You don’t though, rather you choose to pretend that you’re invested in anything the news anchor is saying. He’s confident that you’ll come around, though; it’s not like you have anyone else to rely on. 

[envy-of-the-apple]

Poly's Fave Fics

im so sick of scrolling thru my likes just to find a 500 word piece so here are all my favs on tumblr. none of these are mine.

JJK

Geto Suguru

Polluted (Multi)*

Bullying hcs

Gojo Satoru

Polluted (Multi)*

One moment was all it took (Dark!Soulmate!Gojo)*

Bad Boys Bring Roses (Yakuza!Gojo)*

Sukuna

Fight Night *

Polluted (Multi)*

The morning after (yakuza!sukuna)

Satosugu

Satosugu murdering your kid (cuz they love you or whatever)

College au Satosugu

Haikyuu

Oikawa

Naga!au

Bully*

 Like Nobody Else 

The Lion’s Den

Iwaizumi

Naga! au

 Like Nobody Else 

 Inexorable

Bokuto

Delusional fool*

Tutoring Session*

Kuroo

Undone (Squidgame au)*

Gift wrapped*

Osamu/Atsumu

Different*

control+shift+n*

complex*

Tendou

Unprofessional(office au)

Outrunning Fate 

HxH

Illumi

Trips

Enjoy the Silence (vampire!Illumi)*

Ingress [Part Two] [Part Three]*

Chrollo

30 Seconds (Bodyswap Soulmate AU)

Incitement*

Snowfall

Cost Affection

Uvogin

Lucky find*

Set Up (poly!Uvogin x reader x Franklin)

Shalnark

Sixth floor game

Moving Up (mafiaAU)

Nobunaga

Digging Deeper (College!Au)*

DBH

Connor

Connor likes to inflict pain*

Conor+Nines study group*

Connor + somnophilia*

Connor+hank escape attempt

The blue dress

Nines

Conor+Nines study group*

Obey Me

Simeon

Simeon gives mc an Aphrodiasic *

Simeon+Diavolo Corruption*

Drugging Mc with Cookies

Simeon+somniphilia *

Diavolo

Dissonance

Simeon+Diavolo Corruption*

[lucyw260]

Water Reveals All - Nobunaga

Another birthday of mine is here, so that means my yearly Nobunaga fanfic must be written. I wasn't having a good day today so I knocked this out in record time but then accidentally deleted most of it and had to rewrite it, it was way better before so I'm mad. I haven't posted since the last yearly fic, I hope you all are well

Words = 664

Warnings = establilshed relationship, bruises, water

Excerpt = “I conquered your thigh at this very hot spring. Have you forgotten?. It is mine, not even you are allowed to harm it"

After joint hard work trying to unify the country, Y/n and Nobunaga deserved a relaxing break away from castle life and responsibilities. So here they both were having a short hot spring vacation together.

Nobunaga was already lounging in the hot spring, steam obscuring his body so no prying eyes can take advantage of his visage, well he doesn't mind the prying eyes of his lover.

Y/n was hesitating at the edge of the hot spring, she wasn't even in the warm water and yet her cheeks were as red as the sunset behind her.

“We didn't come so I alone could bask in the water” Nobunaga declared as Y/n paced around the edge and he watched her

“Hang on, I'm trying to sike myself up” she said while trying to shake the nerves off. It was silly to be nervous as it's not like her beloved would see anything he hadn't seen before.

“I guess you don't love me enough to keep me company” Nobunaga had the audacity to pout and show his childish side while saying that.

Y/n laughed slightly, feeling glad that her beloved was free from stress and showing weakness.

“Okay okay, I'm getting in” she chuckled and dipped her toes in before sitting down a ways away from Nobunaga.

“Come closer” Nobunaga demanded in his lordly voice.

“As my lord says” Y/n jokes and makes her way over to Nobunaga but not close enough for Nobunaga’s liking.

He sighs before grabbing her waist and guiding her onto his lap, she wraps her legs around his waist in surprise so she doesn't fall backwards.

“That's better” he stated, staring into her eyes with his own carmine ones. He smirks as she puts her arms around his neck as he adjusts his grip.

The movement of them both had caused Y/n’s thin, almost seethrough bathing robes to ride up her thighs. Blushing furiously, she quickly tries to pull the cloth down before Nobunaga can get any steamy ideas.

Nobunaga can't help but try to sneak a peek of her perfect thighs but something else catches his attention instead. He firmly grabs her hand before she can fully cover her thighs.

Startled, she looks up at Nobunaga only to see him staring down at her thighs with trembling eyes.

“When did you get this?” he questioned in a nonchalant voice but those who knew Nobunaga well would be able to pick up the hint of obvious worry that was apparent.

He reaches down and lightly brushed his long fingers across a brown bruise on the top of her thigh, in no more than a phantom touch.

Y/n looks down to see what Nobunaga is talking about and sees a bruise decorating her high but she can't answer his question because she doesn't recall when she got it but then suddenly remembers something.

“Oh, I remember. I was organising the archive when a book fell off the top shelf and the corner of it hit my leg” she revealed before looking up at Nobunaga.

She could see the telltale signs of worry for her wellbeing in the set of his face so she continued talking.

“I didn't even know it had bruised, it was only a slight pain” she adds to try to soothe her black haired lover.

Nobunaga lifts his eyes off her thigh and looks into her eyes before his next action makes her gasp.

He bends slightly and presses a soft kiss to Y/n’s thigh, like a mother kissing away the pain of their child's wound.

“I conquered your thigh at this very hot spring. Have you forgotten?. It is mine, not even you are allowed to harm it" Nobunaga asserts with admonishment in his eyes.

And just like that, Nobunaga the warlord has come back to the forefront but his strong minded lover will cherish the brief and rare show of concern for her that came from his slow thawing heart.

Please don’t repost, edit or steal. Reblogs are more than welcome though!  

[mako-neexu]

keypoints about Fes (Aug 3-4, 2024) in relation to Dantes/Edguda (aka notes for me after reading a hundred or so Fes tweets)

Fes Day 1

The reveal that Salieri was among the Fes costume line up was hilarious so many people were saying "Okay Jalter!! Du Haine these traitors!!" and also "Come back and enjoy the fes with us Jalter! Bill all your expenses to that stargazing yukata ojisan over there!"

This was truly Avenger class summer (marie alter was also included)

Light reading was absolutely phenomenal - the lines delivered by sakamoto maaya and nobunaga shimazaki in Expo Live were amazing in Id chapter portion!!!!!!

[link of me crying about it] [second link] [third link] [fourth about his tears]

Official ID chapter MAD was insane it 1000% showed that the song was truly the feelings of the Avenger class from the bottom of their heart especially with dantes at the last few lines / the "noise" part too was freaking Salieri's i knew it!!!!!!

Paradis Chateau d'If was said to be insanely sweetly flavor that was strong. The grape is seems to be more jam than jelly. The bottom part was said to be peach syrup itself (but also mixed with some grape). The silver pearls sprinkles are called silver dragees that make it really fancy! It was also really thick that even when the ice melts, it won't thin out or get diluted at all.

Merch of Dantes is always sold out within the hour of both days

Oyo has a new wet monte cristo art

Chaldea (sweet papa) Kitchen Voice - "Owner...? Manager...? No! No, I am neither! I am but the patron. I am the ruler of shadows with an oriental-taste who have contributed in creating this tavern with ample (financial) resources. So enjoy yourself to the fullest! I am sure there is something here that will suit your tastes... No, there certainly is. Ahh, and one more thing, be careful of the heat. Even if you are not hungry, don't be afraid to rest and cool off."

Eye mirror quetionnaire top 3 - tenochtitlan, tonelico, and Monte Cristo

Side note: binaural Live2D Goredolf was cute!! Voiced goff!!!

Royst on day 1 flag with a new work

Tsuzumuda sensei with their message flag released!! thank you for the weapon design!

Fes Day 2

9th Anniversary live with Punchline Cosplay Ojisan!

He has the omamoris, maneki neko design!!! his notebook and feather pen prop!!!!! the cross designs on the glasses, the corset!!!! the gloves!!! the 14 stones!!!!! his cape also has the sea bream pattern!!!!!! the ponytail for Monte Cristo having also purple ends of his wig!!!... his stylists and makeup artists are so cool!!! the bestt aaa

Nobu complimenting Toyonaga Oberon!!!! i love it!!!!!!!!

He also complains being picked by his team mates for who looks like they're a good teacher he's embarassed wwww

"Who is the Servant who is most likely to have the most fun at FGO Fes?" Answer: Castoria Ishtar Mash

When revealing the answer he confidently explains that edmond is having the most fun considering his chaldea kitchen voice!!

After revealing the true answer, he RIGHTFULLY!!! complains to the audience that he's the type to go all out for Master!!!! It was amazing!!!

はしゃいでるマスターを見て一番はしゃいでるのはアイツ😭

I'll make a more detailed post about this... no let's turn it into a fic

Introduction of favorability gauge from space ere-chan brought out tweets of "monte cristo's favorability is MAX from the start so let's keep stacking~" from a lot of jp users www

Usagi Routo new illustrations are about PapaFesmon about guda's future and trying and failing to deny guda's offer of food as well as nobu's day 1 performance and day2 cosplay.. the best.

Flames of Applause Ce [cries and dies]

[tiny-wooden-robot-fics]

Voyager - Six

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Oda Nobunaga (Ikemen Sengoku) x Original Female Character Characters: Oda Nobunaga (Ikemen Sengoku), Eri Davidson (Original Female Character of Color) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting (so much flirting), Teasing, Oda Nobunaga is a huge flirt and a huge tease, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pregnancy, Pregnant Sex, Slight Timeskip Near the End

Previous Chapter (Five): The Chatelaine of Azuchi | Next Chapter (Seven): A Special Event

Chapter Masterlist

Summary:

The shoji slides open, revealing Haru. “Oda-Sama sent me to summon you,” the young maid tells her, bowing slightly.

“Go?” Eri raises her eyebrows.

Haru nods. “”Have you beaten him yet?” She asks, curious.

“I haven’t even come close to beating him,” Eri laughs. “That’s probably why he insists on playing me. It’s an easy conquest.”

Haru looks at her strangely. “I don’t think Oda-Sama is interested in easy conquests,” she says thoughtfully. “Perhaps he just enjoys your company.”

Read on AO3

Chapter Six: No Easy Conquest

Eri has just finished the last two-strand twist in her hair when there is a knock on her door. She opens her mouth to tell the person knocking that they’re free to enter, then remembers that she isn’t quite decently dressed. “Just a moment,” she calls, as she quickly throws on her sleeping robe. “Come in.”

The shoji slides open, revealing Haru. “Oda-Sama sent me to summon you,” the young maid tells her, bowing slightly.

“Go?” Eri raises her eyebrows. 

Haru nods. “Have you beaten him yet?” She asks, curious. 

“I haven’t even come close to beating him,” Eri laughs. “That’s probably why he insists on playing with me. It’s an easy conquest.”

Haru looks at her strangely. “I don’t think Oda-Sama is interested in easy conquests,” she says thoughtfully. “Perhaps he just enjoys your company.”

Eri snorts. “I doubt that even more than the easy conquest bit.”

***

“I think I shall teach you to ride.”

His words catch her off-guard; she is concentrating on her next move, trying to decide where best to place the smooth white stone in her hand, when he speaks. The words register in her head, and her modern brain takes them to mean something very different. She looks up at him in shock. 

“What,” he teases. “Are you going to tell me that horses frighten you, too?”

The meaning of his words sinks in then, and she shakes her head, trying to hide the embarrassment on her face. “I’m not.”

“Very well, then. We start tomorrow.” He places a smooth, black stone on the board. “It will be a welcome distraction for me.”

“Is there something you need to be distracted from?”

He looks up at her, his expression hard. “My information sources tell me that more of my enemies have begun to mobilize against me,” he starts. “I find no rest in my desire to unify this country.”

What must it be like, to have to always think about war? Eri can’t fathom it. She knows that she is a product of her environment, just as he is a product of his. Sitting here in the tenshu with him night after night, playing this game and engaging in casual conversation, has sometimes made it easy for her to forget what sort of world she has been unwillingly thrust into. 

“Oda-Sama…” She trails off, trying to gather her thoughts. “Why do you want to unify Japan so badly?”

The question seems to surprise him. “You are, perhaps, the first person who has ever asked me that question.” 

Eri smiles. “Then maybe you need better friends.”

“I have no friends,” he laughs. “My vassals are loyal to me because they feel it their duty to be, and because they support my goal.” 

“Well… I find that sad.” She places a white stone on the board, knowing that this is another game she will lose. “I can never win…” Her words die in her throat when she looks up at him. 

He’s staring at her, his lips pressed into a thin line. 

“Sad,” he repeats, narrowing his eyes. “You find it sad. Do you mock me?”

Confused, she shakes her head. “No, I’m not mocking you. But everyone needs friends.”

“Do you have friends?”

His question makes her laugh. “Of course I do,” she starts. The laughter fades, though, when she thinks of how she has, over the course of the last four years, distanced herself from those friends. “Although… if asked, they would probably tell you that I’m not a very good friend.”

“Why?”

“Friends are people you should spend time with if you can,” she shrugs. “People that you should show you care about. I… haven’t been very good at that lately.”

“I see.” Thoughtfully, he studies the board. “You’re going to lose this game.”

“And that’s different from all the other games, how?”

He chuckles. “You want to know why I desire to unify Japan,” he starts, placing his last stone on the board and looking up at her. “Quite simply put, I want to see a Japan where all people have access to the resources that they need. Where there are no wars over land, no unfair taxes, no one group of people being oppressed by another.”

“That’s… admirable.”

“You think it impossible.”

“To the contrary,” Eri says, thinking of the modern-day Japan she’s used to. “I think it’s highly possible. And I think if anyone can do it, it’d be you.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “You don’t need to flatter me.”

“I’m not.”

He studies her a moment, searching her face with those intense eyes. “You’re not,” he finally says. 

“I told you I wasn’t.”

He reaches up toward her face then. Eri flinches, and his hand stops in mid-air. They stare at each other for a moment. He drops his hand. 

“You…” She starts incredulously. “You were going to touch my hair.”

He nods, his expression unreadable. “I was.”

It should annoy her, she thinks. It should make her angry, the way she was angry when once, while visiting Eastern Europe, she was waiting in line at a public bathroom and a woman walked up behind her and put her hands in Eri’s hair. Eri had been livid then, turning on the woman to give her a piece of her mind. The diatribe she’d been planning had died in her throat then when she saw the cheerful way the woman was smiling at her. That woman didn’t think there was anything wrong or weird about putting her hands in my hair without permission. “I guess some things really don’t change with time,” she murmurs. 

He looks at her curiously. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t like it when people touch my hair without asking,” she tells him. “But sometimes, people do it anyway.” 

“So you prefer someone to ask first, before they touch it.” He leans forward, seemingly fascinated, and Eri is once again reminded of the woman in Europe. 

“Well, it depends on who it is,” she says truthfully. “And why they want to touch it. My hair is… I know that it’s different from what you’re used to seeing. Different even from Yasuke-San’s, in a way. But touching my hair is… well,” she considers her words carefully, “for me, it’s more of an intimate thing that I don’t feel comfortable letting just anyone do. That being said, if someone’s curiosity is genuine, and I know them well enough, I might let them if they ask.” She pauses. “So… so if you really want to, and you ask nicely, I suppose you can.”

He seems to be mulling over her words in his head. “No,” he says finally. “I won’t. Not yet.”

Quizzically, she looks at him. 

“I will wait,” he goes on, flashing her a cocky smile, “until you invite me to touch it of your own accord.” 

“How can you be so sure that will happen?” She crosses her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He simply smiles at her again. “Perhaps tomorrow, you will best me in a game of Go.”

***

Oh no, she thinks, glancing down at the plastic blister pack in her hands. She has just taken the last burgundy-colored pill in the pack, and all that is left are white pills - placebo pills. 

“Shit,” she mutters under her breath. “Shit, shit, shit…” 

Okay, don’t panic, she tells herself sternly, taking a deep breath. You still have some time to figure this out. She rifles through her purse, breathing a sigh of relief when her hand brushes against the patterned fabric pouch she’s been looking for. This pouch, she knows, is going to be her saving grace over the course of the next few days. Quickly, she unzips the pouch to take inventory of what’s inside. 

Five pads.

Seven super tampons, three ultras, and six super-pluses. 

Six feminine wipes. 

Two clean, folded pairs of panties. 

Briefly, she curses herself, thinking of the brand new, unopened menstrual cup sitting on her bureau back home. She’d put off teaching herself how to use it before her vacation in Kyoto, reasoning that she’d rather stick with what she was familiar with instead of trying something new right before going on a trip. “Dumbass,” she mumbles, irritated. “That could have been your lifesaver here.”

She does the calculations in her head. “Six to seven days of bleeding,” she murmurs. “One light, one medium, three heavy, then back to light again.” She isn’t sure if what she has will be enough to get her through this upcoming period, but she doesn’t know what her alternatives are. “Counting the pair of panties I came here wearing, I have three altogether,” she calculates. “If I can wash them the morning after I wear them, then I should be able to rotate them out enough to wear for the duration of the cycle.”

It still doesn’t solve the problem of what she will do next month, with no birth control and no supplies, but for now, she can only worry about this month. 

She’s still contemplating her options when Haru knocks on her door. 

“Come in,” she calls, stuffing everything back in her pouch and putting it into her purse again. 

“Lady Eri,” the young woman says cheerfully with a slight bow. “I’ve come to bring you an invitation.” 

“An invitation? Is it from Oda-Sama? I’m not due to meet him for another hour, I think.” 

Haru shakes her head. “No, it’s from Yasuke Ermias-Sama.” She holds out her hands, a folded piece of parchment on her palms. 

Eri takes the parchment, unfolding it to read the message inside. 

Lady Eri,

Please accept my apology for extending this invitation with such a delay. The children have been ill, and my wife and I have been busy making sure they are fully recovered. 

If you are available, we would love for you to join us for tea tomorrow afternoon. If this is agreeable, please send word by way of your maid and I will dispatch a servant to retrieve you tomorrow and bring you to my estate. 

Respectfully,

Yasuke Ermias 

“Oh,” Eri exclaims, tickled at the invitation. “Yes, I’m very much looking forward to this,” she tells Haru. “If you don’t mind waiting, I’ll write out my response so you can take it to him right away.”

Haru waits patiently as Eri sits down to write. Writing with a brush and ink is difficult, and Eri still hasn’t quite gotten the hang of it, but at least her writing is becoming more legible after many hours of practicing. She signs her name to the bottom of the note with a flourish, blowing on it to dry the ink before she folds it and hands it back to her handmaid. 

After Haru leaves, Eri decides to dress herself for her riding lesson. The seamstresses have been kind enough to make clothing cut and sewn to her measurements, true to what the Lord of the castle said. They have also obliged her request for a few hakamas that she can wear. She still isn’t quite used to wearing what is essentially a skirt all the time, but they are infinitely more comfortable than the somewhat confining kimonos that the women of Azuchi are wont to wear.

She dresses herself in her makeshift riding wear, tying her hair up into a puff with a piece of ribbon. After checking the mirror to make sure nothing is out of place and that her garments are all tied securely around her body, she decides to make her way to the stables. 

***

He is already there, waiting for her when she arrives. Curiously, she peers at him. “Am I late?”

He’s dressed simply in black and white, leaning against the outside of the stable with his arms crossed over his chest. Even at rest, his presence is a commanding one, and Eri wonders briefly how many hearts he has broken with his good looks and that same commanding presence. 

“You’re right on time,” he tells her, pushing himself off of the wall and motioning for her to follow him. “Come, let’s choose your horse.”

***

“Oh.” She utters the word softly, her heart nearly leaping into her throat when she sees it. Valerie doesn’t know much about motorcycles, but she knows that this machine in front of her is beautiful. The metal is painted a vivid, electric blue in places, its sleek design making it look like something out of an action movie. 

“Have you ridden on one before?” Shinichi asks, coming up behind her. 

“Never,” she breathes, “but I’ve always wanted to.”

“I was thinking,” he starts, “that we could do a picnic.” He motions to the basket tied to the back of the bike. “I’ve packed everything we need. There’s a nice spot outside of the city that I like to go to… it has a lake and everything. And the roads to get there are all nice, back roads that cars rarely travel on.” 

She tears her eyes away from the pretty machine in front of her to look at him. He’s smiling at her, in that almost-bashful way he has, and Valerie can feel her heart melting. 

“Only our first date since I moved here, and you’re already putting me to shame,” she teases him. “It looks like I need to step up my date-planning game.” 

He laughs. “Well… I figured we needed something good after all the long-distance dates,” he tells her. “It’s hard to plan nice things to do over Skype.”

She smiles at him. “You are so amazing.”

Walking over to the motorcycle, Shinichi retrieves one of the two helmets hanging off of the handlebars. “For you,” he says, handing it over to her along with a piece of black fabric. 

Valerie looks down at the fabric. “Is this what I think it is?” She asks, giggling a little. 

“Yeah…” he looks up at her a little sheepishly. “The padding on the inside of the helmet is there to make it more comfortable, but this will help in case the material the padding is made of snags. Plus,” he adds, “it’ll gather all your hair in one place so it doesn’t get too squished while you have the helmet on.” 

It is characteristic of Shinichi, this thoughtfulness. Buying a satin bonnet for her to wear under her motorcycle helmet to keep her hair from being damaged and snagged. Planning a picnic as a date so they could spend time together. 

“You really are amazing,” she says again, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. 

Previous Chapter (Five): The Chatelaine of Azuchi | Next Chapter (Seven): A Special Event

[eventinelysplayground]

An Evening Snack

I started this fic for @lorei-writes and @wordycheeseblob wish upon an aide event with the passion prompt but I stalled half way through and just finished it recently. It's also different from the others I did for the event and not exactly what I wanted but close enough. I'm still not as comfortable with Ikesen yet but I'm getting there so it was good practice. Kyubei and Chimaki 'talk' about Mitsuhide and Mai over a snack. Pure fluff WC approx 865.

It was late at night and as always Kyubei was taking one last walk around the manor ensuring it was secure before retiring to his room for the day. As he completed the familiar routine he came to a pause at the entrance.

Is that-?

Hmm?

Is what what?

…No, it's nothing.

In truth Kyubei wasn't all that surprised to see the hairpin adorning Lady Mai's hair, in fact he had been praying he was right. Kyubei continued on his rounds, unaware he had started humming to himself until he reached his final stop at the gardens. In this spot too he found himself pausing and remembering the events of the day.

I was the one who delivered it to Lord Mitsuhide while he was imprisoned.

What?

I asked if he needed anything before he left. He said there was only one thing he absolutely had to get…I believe it was his intent to give it to you upon your return to Azuchi.

“Even though I had just been in the dungeons my heart was uplifted as soon as I saw that hairpin, and knowing that was the most important thing to him at that moment…”

Kyubei let out a long breath and was about to head back into the manor when he heard rustling in a nearby bush.

“Chimaki, have you come to visit again already? I'm afraid I have to inform you that neither the Lord or future Lady of the manor are at home right now.”

Chimaki’s tail flicked at Kyubei’s words.

“Lady of the manor.”

Sighing, Kyubei sat down on the steps and looked up into the night sky.

“My lord has always been alone in the shadows, never concerned with the consequences of the way he's chosen to live his life but now…Now he has finally found someone.”

Chimaki moved slightly towards Kyubei and sat down, looking up at him with big eyes. He laughed knowing what that meant and began to rummage around in his pocket finally pulling out a hand towel that held some rice balls.

“Is this what you're looking for?”

Chimaki let out a small chatter and her tail swished elegantly around her.

“Hehe I thought so, guess I know you pretty well now.”

Kyubei tossed one of the rice balls to Chimaki and she began to eat.

“I like to think I know Lord Mitsuhide well too, I've served him a long time after all. He’s always been passionate about the things he does, giving everything of himself in the process. So much so he doesn't even usually bother to take care of himself beyond the bare minimum. Now there is finally something he truly wants for himself, that makes him happy and is a better use for all his passion.”

Kyubei bit into his own rice ball.

“At first I wondered, just what it was he was planning with her. Never expected that it would be this, though I doubt he expected it either.”

Kyubei let out a soft chuckle and turned his attention up to the stars again.

“I worried about him, his way of life was going to end up killing him one way or another. I don't think he will be in such a hurry to sacrifice himself anymore. Did you know Chimaki, he has already declared his intent to marry her to Lord Nobunaga and Lord Hideyoshi?”

Chimaki looked up from her rice ball and blinked at Kyubei.

“I swear it's true, of course at the time he was using it as cover to keep his other deeds undiscovered or so he said anyways but as I said I know Lord Mitsuhide well.”

Kyubei gave Chimaki a cheeky smile and she seemed to smile back at him.

“His passion and kindness always come through in the end, you just need to know what to look for. I suspect Lady Mai has figured that out as well by now.”

The smile left Kyubeis face replaced by a worried frown.

“She is perfect for him, and the only one who is capable of saving Lord Mitsuhide from himself. I hate that she has to carry such a heavy burden alone…”

Kyubei sat silent for a moment then tossed his barely touched rice ball to Chimaki.

“He's so close, she's right there and all he needs to do is not let go of her.”

Kyubei sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. He closed his eyes and sat in silence for a long moment as Chimaki watched him curiously. Finally he let out another sigh before standing.

“She's survived him this long. All I need to do is have faith, right Chimaki?”

Chimaki stood stretching her front legs and letting out a small raspy bark.

“Exactly, it will all work out.”

Kyubei gave a small nod to Chimaki before he walked away. Chimaki watched and waited until Kyubei was gone and then she laughed while shaking her head.

Of course it will all work out silly man!

A sadly sweet smile flashed across Chimaki's face brought on by something she left unspoken.

We kitsune take care of our own after all, even if this one does happen to be human.

[eruminx]

feitan headcanon/thought : manga spoilers below the cut

i see a lot of yandere fics display feitan as dirty and gross, but he’s not. he might have some form of germaphobia because he won’t eat anything someone that someone else has touched at all or has spoken on.

i think his torture room is full of stains, but nonetheless clean. i don’t think he or any of the troupe members see blood as a dirty thing. his torture room looks like an empty hospital room gone wrong. he takes pride in cleanliness. i also think all of the original members, if not all members, are clean people simply because they were raised in a wasteland. they spent so much time around filth and trash, why wouldn’t they want to feel clean?

And if you’re gonna call Nobunaga greasy you might as well call Illumi (the guy who sleeps in holes) greasy too cuz their hair looks the same…(joke btw) can y’all tell the Feitan brainrot is bad?