#ah well mitsuhide can rock me to sleep any time

[toreii]

Wedding Event Epilogue || Mitsuhide

Mitsuhide: “I just kissed my sweet wife… I do not think I am mistaken.”

His eyes crinkled as he cupped my face in his hands. Mitsuhide’s thumb brushed along my lips…

Mitsuhide: “...I will not let you go today.”

His rich voice reverberates as he continues to trace with the pad of his finger. His passionate eyes remain fixed on mine, and my heart began to beat loudly through my chest.

MC: “If we’re not going back… What do you plan to do?”

I quickly hide my displeasure and ask Mitsuhide-san.

Mitsuhide: “Why does it matter? We only have one night as husband and wife. I will fulfill your requests for as long as this lasts.”

(That’s… Is this Mitsuhide-san’s way of thanking me?)

I couldn’t help but feel sad.

Mitsuhide: “[MC]...?”

He peered at my face when I grew quiet… I suddenly hugged Mitsuhide-san.

Mitsuhide: “!”

MC: “...If we are married today, then let me fulfill Mitsuhide-san’s wishes, too. I don’t want to be toyed with. That’s why...Please tell me what you want.”

Mitsuhide: “I see… What I want, huh?”

Mitsuhide leaned in to whisper into my ear…

Mitsuhide: “Then… I won’t hold back, if that’s the case.”

A sweet, inviting voice flowed into my ears and all over my body.

…………

……

We went to a nearby inn, and rented a room. The quiet, gloomy room is tense with just us two here.

(Afterall… What is he going to do?)

I looked over at Mitsuhide-san… A pair of pillows were set next to me drawing my gaze over to them.

(What should I do?... There’s only one futon…)

Mitsuhide: “...[MC].”

MC: “Y-Yes!”

Mitsuhide: “Haha…”

Mitsuhide-san laughs.

Mitsuhide: “Your voice is trembling.”

MC: “! That’s…”

Mitsuhide: If you’re so alert, doesn’t it make you want to be more mean?

MC: “…”

I know he’s teasing me, but that’s actually pretty hot.

MC: “What do you mean?”

The tension has risen high, there is no coming back from it.

Mitsuhide: “It’s not good that your reaction is pretty cute.”

A silhouette approached me as his words sunk in quickly.

Mitsuhide: “Now, what’s the matter?”

(Ah…)

One moment, there was a slender hand next to my face, the next, I was pushed against the wall. Mitsuhide-san peered at me as I lost my escape in the dim light.

MC: “Um…!”

Mitsuhide: “What is it?”

MC: “Wha- What are you going to do?”

Mitsuhide: “Let’s see… I want you to sleep well tonight.”

While saying so, Mitsuhide-san slides his finger down my chest.

(This is Mitsuhide-san’s wish…!?)

MC: “Mi-Mitsuhide-san…!”

My voice quickly rises—

Mitsuhide: “First, I have to remove this obi.”

His fingers slide smoothly down grabbing ahold of the obi.

MC: “What are you doing!?”

Mitsuhide: “Taking the obi off.”

The obijime is removed noisily.

MC: “ P-Please wait…!”

(Even if we’re pretending… Seriously?)

Unsure of what to do, I’m on the verge of a panic attack when Mitsuhide-san suddenly stops. And then…

Mitsuhide: “Are you planning to sleep binded like this?”

MC: “Eh?”

Mitsuhide: “If you stay like this, you won’t be able to sleep because of the pain.”

Mitsuhide’s lips were relaxed in a cool smile.

(...That’s what he meant.)

I notice my misunderstanding, and my face burns more and more with embarrassment.

Mitsuhide: “If there’s something else you’d like for me to do, that’s fine.”

MC: “T-That’s not what I meant! Besides, I can loosen an obi by myself.”

Mitsuhide: “I see.”

Mitsuhide-san cleared his throat and removed his hand from me.

Mitsuhide: “Well, let’s stop here, and go to bed.”

(Really!?)

As he said this, Mitsuhide-san went ahead and slid inside the quilt.

Mitsuhide: “You get in, too.”

(Seriously…)

I heave a big sigh of relief feeling bitter and complicated, as well. When I got my obi loosened, I laid down next to Mitsuhide-san.

Mitsuhide: “......”

(If Mitsuhide-san wishes it… I think it’s fine for today… I can’t sleep with you… I don’t know what to do.)

I can’t see the next door, and time quietly passes. Even if we are not touching each other, I can feel Mitsuhide-san’s warmth…

(What? ...It’s embarrassing, but I feel very safe next to Mitsuhide-san.)

Mitsuhide: “[MC].”

MC: “...Yes?”

His voice calls out, and I gently turn to face Mitsuhide-san.

Mitsuhide: “...It may have been a mess for you. It wasn’t a bad day for me.”

MC: “I was surprised, but it was fun for me, too. ...Ah.”

In the midst of answering, I am held by an arm and pressed against his chest. I felt the warmth of my face and body.

MC: “Mi-Mitsuhide-san?”

Mitsuhide: “...... Goodnight, [MC].”

After smiling gently, Mitsuhide-san pats my back.

(Eh? This is…)

I don’t feel embarrassed as he puts me to sleep like a child.

Mitsuhide: “...Sleep well.”

(What… In the end, I’m just nervous.)

However, it’s pleasant to feel my back being stroked by a large hand… Gradually, I’m lured into slumber.

(I’m certain those who can become this person’s wife...while it may be hard dealing with his teasing, if they can spend every night like this, I wonder if they’ll be happy…)

I close my eyes as this thought runs through my head. Wrapped in gentle warmth, I slipped into a deep and peaceful dream.

[ikeromantic]

Friends and Frenemies

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfic - approx. 2800 words. This scene takes place after the events of the romantic epilogue. Mostly fluff, slightly spicy.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Kitsune's Day Out

Mitsuhide sat on the floor with his little mouse in his lap. His fingers stroked the nape of her neck as he listened intently to Sarutobi.

Sasuke and Miyake sat across from them on the edge of the bed. Miyake’s expression was somewhere between awe and exhaustion. He wasn’t saying much, just staring into empty space with a confused grin.

The ninja looked mildly pleased as he talked. “My professor took a little convincing. We had to call in the history department chair to talk to Miyake.”

“What did he want to know?” The chatelaine’s eyes were heavy with sleep. They’d spent the day walking around Kyoto, looking at historical sites - things Mitsuhide should recognize.

Of course, everything was so changed from his time that the places they visited may as well have been new. Even if they were the same structures, what lay around them had changed so much as to render the buildings and monuments unrecognizable.

Sasuke shrugged. “Details. It was like watching a verbal exam in a master class. And then he made Miyake pick out his own sword from a room of Sengoku period weapons. It was impressive watching him look each one over.”

At this, the warrior chuckled. “I almost didn’t. It was strange to see Kichihiroe looking so old and worn.”

Mitsuhide smiled. “But you did. So all is well.” He turned his attention back to Sasuke. “What is the benefit of bringing these men in on our secret?”

“Well, first off, this.” He handed Miyake and Mitsuhide campus ID cards. “You are both now officially visiting professors, with a stipend and everything. There was a small . . . additional favor they requested from you.”

“Which is?” Mitsuhide raised one eyebrow.

Miyake answered. “They want you to come in and answer questions. A lot of questions.” He wiped his brow. “They started in on me today and there is just no end!”

Sarutobi nodded a confirmation.

“So . . . they want to pay you to answer questions about the Sengoku era? And that’s it? That doesn’t sound so bad.” The chatelaine grinned.

Mitsuhide shook his head. “I am not sure it’s so simple. This interaction - couldn’t it cause -” he thought for a moment, trying to find the words. “A complication? If I let slip something they don’t know, or they tell me something that will happen?”

“A paradox.” Sasuke’s mouth curled up in the slightest smile. “I considered that. But we are already living in a parallel timeline. One in which you and Nobunaga live, as well as some other changes.”

“So the things they tell us, those aren’t things that will happen?” Miyake sounded a little tense as he asked the question.

“Right,” Sarutobi replied. “Or, mostly right. We can’t be sure how far apart our timeline is from the original, so I encourage you to forget anything you may hear.”

Mitsuhide snorted. “Once a truth is heard, it cannot be so easily forgotten.”

“True enough. Can’t unring the bell, as they say. But are you willing to take that chance and talk with the history professor anyway?”

“I will.” Mitsuhide stroked his little one’s neck with gentle fingertips. “It will be interesting, regardless. And you have gone to a lot of trouble to arrange things. It’s the least I can do to play along.”

“I appreciate that.” Sasuke gave a little bow. “So what did you two do today?”

Miyake elbowed him and gave the two lovers a knowing wink.

Mitsuhide’s little one blushed and covered her face. “No! Nothing like that! Miyake! We just went shopping. Oh - and there were these men -”

“Who kindly helped me pick up our bags when I dropped them. We were very appreciative.” Mitsuhide interrupted her before she could give away any more information about their run in with the modern day bandits. Not that he didn’t trust Sasuke and Miyake. He did - as much as he trusted anyone. But it was always wise to keep information to yourself until there was a reason to share.

Sasuke blinked. “Ok. Well. Tomorrow, I’d like to take you up to the university, Mitsuhide. If that’s alright. You can both come if you want to.”

“Oh! But I needed to run by the office for my job tomorrow! I wanted to give them my apologies for disappearing so suddenly, just when they offered me a position.” She bit her lip. “I guess it can wait though.”

“I can go with her to do that, if you want me to,” Miyake put in.

Mitsuhide nodded. “Yes, I think that’s a good idea. You two can run errands tomorrow while I satisfy the curiosity of some modern scholars.”

“Are you sure?” The chatelaine looked uneasy.

“I am.” Mitsuhide kissed her cheek. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, does it not?”

After they made arrangements for the coming day, Mitsuhide and his little mouse trekked back to her flat, leaving Miyake and Sasuke to themselves. It wasn’t that he minded the company, but he wanted to have her to himself tonight.

They stopped at a ‘small’ grocery on the way home to pick up something for breakfast. While Mitsuhide had noticed the number of foodstalls, he had not considered an entire store with shelves full of food. He wanted to ask if this was normal, but one look at his little one’s face gave him the answer.

She was not surprised at all. With barely a glance at the stacks of fresh vegetables and fruits, she led him further into the store.

There were at least five types of vinegar, he noted. An assemblage of noodles that defied sense. Several types of rice. Beans. And a variety of things with names he couldn’t identify as food, all wrapped in bright packages. “Masamune would love this place,” Mitsuhide murmured.

“You think? Maybe we should bring him something back.” She smiled. “I’m surprised you thought of him just now.”

“He’s a -” Mitsuhide paused at the realization he was about to say friend. Not ally. Not colleague. Friend. He bit back the word and finished with, “man who loves his food.”

His little mouse didn’t appear to pick up on the omission. “He really is. And he wants everyone around him to enjoy it too.” She picked up a package of rice, then added, “I wish I was such a good cook.”

“I think you’re amazing.” Mitsuhide settled his palm lightly on her low back, reassuring.

She smiled wryly. “Says the man who doesn’t taste his food.”

“Kyubei thinks so too. And his taste buds work fine.”

“Mhmm. Kyubei would eat a pile of rocks and tell me it was delicious if he thought he was supposed to. But I appreciate the compliment.” She leaned against Mitsuhide and sighed. “I wonder how he’s doing right now.”

Mitsuhide considered. There were a number of things he wished he’d had time to tell Kyubei. And of course, he hadn’t counted on Azuchi being attacked but, “I’m sure he is well. Kyubei is resourceful, talented, and I’ve left him the tools he will need. You should worry less about him, and more about yourself.”

“What should I be worried about?”

He grinned and leaned down to place a kiss on her cheek. With his lips almost touching her ear, he murmured, “You should worry about what I will do if I don’t get you alone soon.”

His little one inhaled sharply, cheeks heating. Her eyes were bright and full of desire as she replied. “Then we’d better hurry.”

They got back to her flat soon after, and unpacked the groceries. With the last items put away, she sat in a kitchen chair and looked up at Mitsuhide shyly.

It never failed to amuse him how innocent she could be in moments like these. As if she couldn’t admit what she wanted no matter how badly she wanted it. Of course, he’d take full advantage.

“How should I use your bath, little mouse? Can you show me how it works?” Mitsuhide already had an idea, but what fun was that?

“Oh! Yes. Sure. It would be good to clean up.” She led him to her small bathing room. “This handle is hot. This one cold. And if you press this, it will activate the shower. Just be careful where you point the nozzle.”

Mitsuhide leaned over her, pressing close. “So this one is hot?” He turned the handle.

“Umm . . . yes but, I should probably . . . get out of the way . . . the bathroom isn’t big enough-”

“And this one is cold?” He turned the other handle.

She nodded. “Yes. So. Ah, first rinse off with . . . with the shower. And . . . and th-then fill . . .”

Her distraction was deeply amusing. Possibly caused by his breath on the back of her neck and the way her hips met his. Not that he was unaffected. The press of her hips against him was maddening. The slight friction of cloth, the denial of skin to skin touch he ached for. But this was his game, and he knew what came next. Delay only made victory all the sweeter. Mitsuhide pressed the shower, and water fell like warm rain over them.

“Mitsuhide!” She gave a little shriek as he pulled her to standing under the flow. Her clothes clung to her skin, revealing as much as they hid. He could not wait to peel them off her.

“Oh dear. What have I done? Now you’re all wet!” He smiled widely and slid his hand under her shirt, popping the buttons open one after another.

She playfully swatted his other hand as he reached for her skirt. “You totally did that on purpose! I know you did!”

He shrugged. “Perhaps.” Mitsuhide slid her shirt off and enjoyed the sight of water pearling over the rise of her breast. Her soaked bra looked a deeper blue than it had when dry. A good color for her. His hands slipped around behind her, reaching for the clasp.

“You know, if you wanted to bathe together, you could have just said so.”

“Mmm, but this was more fun.” His fingers fumbled with the odd hook-and-eye catches, finally releasing them. Her bra fell away. Mitsuhide relished the sight. “You should probably help me get the rest of these clothes off. I’m fairly certain you don’t bathe wearing them in this age.”

She laughed softly and reached up to cup his cheek. “My wicked kitsune. No. We don’t.” And then she kissed him.

***

Kyubei frowned at the short, dark-haired man in front of him. “You can cut the act, Ranmaru. I’d recognize you anywhere. Besides, your work on that scar is atrocious. Who taught you disguises? Were they blind?”

The page - spy and ninja as well - sighed and set down the basket he was carrying. “I thought the scar was pretty good. It really changes my face. What gave it away?”

“Your fingers are still stained with beetjuice, for one. And you didn’t blend the edges well enough. I can see bits of raw paste at your hairline.”

“Well damn. Alright. You caught me. Are you here to kill me?” Ranmaru’s tone was light, joking, but there was nothing funny about the way his fingers curled around the hilt of the short blade he wore at his hip.

Kyubei rolled his eyes. “If I was going to kill you, you’d already be dead. I came to find out what you know - and how you know it. Are you willing to have a conversation with me?” He left out the alternative, which was knocking the page senseless, dragging him back to Azuchi, and putting him in the dungeon. He wanted to avoid that outcome. It wouldn’t do anyone any good.

Ranmaru shrugged. “Alright. Fine. But you’re buying us something to eat. I’m starving!”

“I can do that.” He led the page out of the alley they were in - a spot chosen in case things got ugly - and back into a market street. Kyoto was full of people selling things. He had his pick of at least a dozen stalls and shops for food, but made a beeline for one in particular. The proprietor was one of Mitsuhide’s informants, someone Kyubei could trust if this chat went sideways.

The two men sat down at a back table and ordered sake and food. Ranamru’s preference for sweet things had not changed in his absence. They were getting stewed peaches, peaches with rice, and peach-jelly stuffed mochi. Not to Kyubei’s taste at all, but then, he hadn’t come here for the food.

“What do you know about the attack on Azuchi?” Kyubei wasted no time getting to the point.

Ranmaru shrugged. “Would you believe I didn’t know it was going to happen?”

“No.”

The page giggled. It was a high, false sound with no real mirth. “Well, I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t believe me either. But I really didn’t know that was coming. I knew something was . . . my - my Master was working with some people. And they were coming to Azuchi so I knew they had something in mind. I thought . . .”

Ranmaru’s throat bobbed, stuck on the words. He looked away and wiped at his face.

Kyubei sighed. “So you weren’t sure what was planned. What did you think might happen? Is that what made you run?”

“Yes.” His voice was strained and he hadn’t looked up. “I thought . . . maybe they would try to kill him. Nobunaga. A direct attack. Or, poison? I - I didn’t want . . . but I was . . .”

“You were afraid they might ask for your help. Or participation.” Kyubei’s voice was pitched low, for Ranmaru’s ears only. This was not a subject to be discussed lightly.

The page nodded.

“So you ran.”

He nodded again.

Kyubei rubbed the short growth of hair on the top of his head. It was coming in, full and dark, but it itched some days. Especially after spending time on the road, with no rest. Touching it had become a habit for him when he was anxious or unhappy. This conversation was not making him happy.

“I didn’t want to be the one to - you know. Nobunaga has - he’s always been good to- to me. I thought, let them do their own dirty work. I would g-go back to Kennyo. Offer to be, to do a-anything else.” Ranmaru finally looked up. His expression was one of abject misery.

“I don’t blame you. It can be hard to serve two masters. Even when their goals usually align . . . often the methods do not.”

Ranmaru smiled bleakly. “I guess you understand a little.”

The tea and sweets came, and for a brief few minutes, the two men ate and drank in silence.

Finally, Kyubei asked, “So why aren’t you with Kennyo now?”

“I can’t find him. I know he’s working with . . .” Ranmaru’s jaw clenched. “I can’t say. But, I don’t know where they went. Or what they are planning next.”

“I need you to tell me the names, Ranmaru. Assume that I already know them, and from you, I only need confirmation.”

“Fine. Then you say them. I’ll nod if you’re right.”

Kyubei smiled. “Kicho.”

Nod.

“Motonari.”

Nod.

“The ‘shogun’ in exile.”

Nod.

“I was hoping the last one was a no. We worked so hard to set that boy up, but I suppose Yoshiaki’s allies got to him.” Kyubei took a deep breath. “And you really have no idea what they will do next?” He watched Ranmaru for tell-tale signs of a lie.

“I wish I did. I’d find Kennyo and get him away from those stray dogs.” The page almost spat.

“So what will you do now?”

Ranmaru tugged at his darkened locks, twisting them around his finger. “I don’t know. I am afraid to return to Nobunaga’s side. Afraid they will ask me to betray him. But that makes me a traitor to my Master. I am damned either way.” His voice was flat, empty of self-pity or any other emotion.

“You could work for me.”

The page raised an eyebrow. “You know I turned on both my masters. That I am a coward. What would you trust me with?”

“Well, not disguises, clearly.” Kyubei caught the curl of a slight smile on Ranmaru’s lips. “I’d want you to gather information from the daimyo loyal to the shogun. Nothing to do with either of your masters directly. No need to dig yourself a deeper grave.”

“I’d report everything to the Ikko Ikki too.”

Kyubei shrugged. “I’m fine with that? If Kenny’s monks act on the information, I doubt it will be to prop Ashikaga up further.”

Ranmaru chewed at his lip, thoughtful. Finally, he nodded. “I guess I can do that. Just until I find where Kennyo has gone and what he needs of me.”

“Then we have a deal. But I do have one more question before I leave you.”

“What?” The page eyed him, suspicious again.

Kyubei tapped his finger on the table, almost afraid of his own question. Asking it would be giving information away, but he needed to know. “Have you seen or heard from Akechi since the night of the attack on Azuchi?”

Next: Uncomfortable Questions

[mythiica]

Mini Scenarios - The Warlords Seeing Their Children for the First Time

Fandom: Ikemen Sengoku

Character: All warlords

Genre: Fluff, Micro fics! Mini scenes!

Warnings: None

Intended Gender Audience: Female Audience

Word Count: 1587 words total

Other comments: got an idea for one guy and i was like i need this for everyone

Nobunaga...

...tucks his hand under his small head and lifts him up slightly as to see him in the light. He does not know what to say at first because he is awestruck by this newborn. Despite just being born, Nobunaga can see that he has the same type of nose as you to. The baby cries loudly and swings its arms around, so Nobunaga offers him a finger – the child immediately wraps its small hand around Nobunaga’s digit.

          His eyes shine with endearment and he brings the child close to his chest before bowing his head. With his head pressed to the child’s Nobunaga whispers, “You, my son, will have the world.” Nobunaga drops his hand and laces his fingers with yours. “Both of you will have the world,” he promises with a soft smile.

Hideyoshi…

...paces back and forth outside your room, waiting for news from the maids. His brows are furrowed tightly together as hundreds of thoughts rack his mind. Everything stops when he hears faint cries. He drops his worried expression and rushes to the doors, but hesitates to open them.

         A maid opens the door instead – she had seen his shadow outside. She waves for him to enter, and the moment he does, Hideyoshi sees you holding a small bundle. Sweat mattes your hair to your forehead, but Hideyoshi only sees your radiating beauty. He falls to his knees, and his arm sweeps around your shoulders. “She is just as beautiful as you are..” he mumbles before kissing your temple.

         “You think so?”

         He nods quickly. “I know so.”

Masamune...

...doesn’t really know what to expect when someone fetches him from the main hall. The other warlords give him an encouraging smile before he leaves and heads to your room. You look up as he enters and then extend a hand to invite him to sit next to you. He runs a hand through his hair before crossing his legs.

         She coos softly, big eyes looking at her father. Masamune holds his breath as he brushes a finger over her soft cheek, too scared to apply more pressure. She reaches up and paws at the air, trying to grab onto him.

         You prompt Masamune to hold her, and he accepts her carefully. “Are you sure-”

         “Of course, Masamune,” you giggle.

         He can’t believe how warm she is despite being so small. “Little lass…” he mumbles.

Ieyasu…

...had demanded to stay in the room with you through the delivery. If you were not holding his hand, Ieyasu would have barked orders at all the maids throughout the entire process. However, he focuses his attention on you, doing his best to comfort you and guide you.

         He is the first to hold your son – Ieyasu brushes his thumb over the baby’s blonde hair, his green eyes glowing with adoration. Ieyasu clears his throat and offers you the bundle, but you simply lean against the warlord with a smile. “I want to watch you two.”

         Ieyasu blushes slightly and nods. He looks down at his child and bites his lip. “I hope he is as kind as you are,” he whispers.

         A smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “And I hope he is as brave as you are, Ieyasu.”

Mitsuhide…

...is away when he received the news. He drops everything he is doing and leaves the camp quickly, rushing to you as fast as possible. With the castle in sight, Mitsuhide slings himself off of the horse and runs up the stairs and through the hallways. He nearly misses your room, but he stops dead in his tracks when he hears soft singing.

         Mitsuhide opens the door slowly and slips inside. You turn around and break into a grin when you see him. He crosses the room in a few strides, and his arms wrap around you, bring you into his chest. Inhaling slowly, he can feel your heart beating… and small heart as well. When he leans back slightly, Mitsuhide’s eyes land on his tiny daughter.

         “Baby mouse…” he whispers.

         “You already have a nickname for her?”

         He smirks and gives you a soft kiss. “Of course. Now I have… my little mouse and my baby mouse.”

Mitsunari…

…is at a loss for words when you offer him your small child. His lip trembles slightly and he pushes his glasses up. “H-How do I hold her?” Mitsunari tried to think back to all the books he had read about parenting, but in the moment, everything had fled from his mind.

         You giggle and smile. “Like you would a book, Mitsunari. Hold her head, here–”

         As you place your daughter in his hands, you support her head until Mitsunari cradles her gently.

         “She’s… so small… are you sure there isn’t another one?”

         “Mitsunari!”

         He breaks into a bright grin and shakes his head. “She is perfect.”

         When the child opens her eyes, Mitsunari marvels at the fact that they are the same shade of purple as his. His heart melts and he nestles against you.

Kenshin…

...can be heard from the other side of the wall, shouting at the maids, demanding to know your condition. He finally convinces the women to let him inside, and after seeing you holding your baby in your arms, Kenshin goes completely silent. He closes the distance between the two of you in moments, but he stops directly in front of you. “Why… why isn’t she making any noise?”

         “She is sleeping,” you explain. “Would you like to hold her?”

         Kenshin reaches out, but stops himself, as he did a few moments ago. “Won’t I break her?”

         You laugh quietly. “Not at all. Here.”

         Your daughter nuzzles against the fuzzy collar of Kenshin’s sleeve. He is completely silent as to not wake her, but then he looks up at you with big eyes. “I would die for her.” His voice cuts through the silence with a degree of seriousness that hits you.

         “Kenshin-”

         “I would die for both of you.”

         You tuck your arm around him and lean your head against his neck. “I know you would.”

Shingen...

...cannot stop smiling as he holds his daughter close to his broad chest. He peckers soft kisses to her head, making her giggle. Shingen then turns to you and kisses you repeatedly until you catch his jaw with your hand. “Shingen, please!” you laugh.

         “Can I not worship my angels?”

         You blush sheepishly, and he gives you a quick kiss on your cheek.

         Shingen brushes his hand over her head, petting her hair down slightly. He then begins to rock her back and forth gently. She closes her eyes and falls asleep rather quickly. “An angel indeed,” he murmurs. “Look how good she is!”

         “Wait until the middle of the night when she wakes up screaming–”

         “Ah, it will just give me more opportunities to spend time with her,” Shingen replies without hesitation.

         Your heart melts at his dedication and you begrudgingly give him a kiss.

Sasuke…

...never would have imagined that you would give birth to his son in Sengoku Japan. Sasuke runs his fingers through your hair before pushing his glasses up his nose. “How old do you think he can be when I start to teach him how to be a ninja–?”

         You turn your head slowly and look at him. “How is never?”

         Sasuke laughs nervously and shakes his head. “I’m.. joking…”

         Nodding, you take your son back and rock him back and forth. Sasuke kisses your neck and watches the two of you with a loving gaze. He pulls the corner of the blanket over the child’s face and puts his hand underneath yours to support him as well. “I can feel his heart.”

         “He’s going to be strong, just like you Sasuke.”

         “No,” he replies.

         You are confused. “No?”

         “He’s going to be strong like you.”

Yukimura…

...looks at his son with wide eyes.

         “Are you sure that’s mine?”

         You roll your eyes. “Yes, Yuki.”

         “And it…” he swallows, “came out of you?”

         “Yes, Yuki,” you giggle. “Come here and hold your son. And don’t call him a ‘that’.”

         Yukimura scrambles up from his spot and pads over to you. He holds his arms out awkwardly and waits for you to place the child down. “W-What do I do now?”

         You help him bring the baby towards his chest. “Hold him. Just like this!”

         The warlord looks at the sleeping child and bursts into a smile. “This is easy!” He leans forward slightly, resting his forehead against yours.

Kennyo…

...watches you from the other side of the room.

         “Kennyo, won’t you come here?” you ask softly, extending your hand toward him.

         But he shakes his head.

         “What’s wrong?”

         “I’ll scare her…”

         You shake your head and nearly laugh. “Scare her? Enough of that – come meet your daughter.”

         He exhales and walks over. However, when you offer your child to him, Kennyo panics. “Y-You’re much better at this than me… I’ll only hurt her.”

         Despite his protests, you tuck her into his arms and show him how to hold the child. She looks up at Kennyo with big eyes before reaching upwards. Her coos are playful and curious, so you push Kennyo’s elbows upwards, as to help him.

         He lifts her slowly, bringing her closer to his face. Instead of fussing, as Kennyo had expected, she laughs and tries to grab his hair. Kennyo tries to contain his smile, but it captures his lips and he marvels at the child.

[amenomiko]

What would the Sengoku Husbands do when their daughter cry in the middle of the night?

PART 1

1. Nobunaga

Daughter: *awake from her sleep and cried*

MC: *startled from her sleep* Oh, she's awake.

MC were about to rose from the futon when suddenly the sound has stopped, also, realizing the space beside her is still empty and cold. Did Nobunaga still working on his papers? She thought to herself, then she heard a low yet gentle voice not too far from her. It was Nobunaga and her new born daughter.

Nobunaga: *craddles his daughter in his arms* Shh.. You will be alright. Let your mother rest for now. She deserves it. Don't cry. I won't let anything happen to you. *smile gently as his daughter rest her head on his shoulder*

MC awww-ed silently until..

Nobunaga: *menacing smile* especially if any lowly man make you cry I won't hesitate to display their head on the castle gates.

MC: *long sigh* 😑😑😑😑

Nobunaga:.....MC you will wake her again. Go to sleep.

MC: She's still an infant Nobunaga..! Oh joy-- (-"-;)

2. Hideyoshi

Right after MC gave birth to their newly born daughter, Hideyoshi has taken care of everything. Both his wife and his daughter. There is no any night that MC has to get off from her futon to make the baby sleep back if she cried in the middle of the night. Even if she insist on doing so, he still won't let her. No matter WHAT.

Hideyoshi: *peeks. More like GLARING*

MC: ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ.... 😑😑😑 Honey, I'm just singing lullaby for her.

Hideyoshi: But- What if you had a sore throat? (´・д・｀)

MC: Honey, a lullaby won't give me sore throat. And I'm not singing a rock song sheesh.

Hideyoshi: Rock has a song?? Σ(д)

MC: No- That's not- Ahh nevermind. *about to sing another song*

Hideyoshi: MC! Wait! What if you had a sore throat and then it turns out to be body heat and then you had a cold and next a fever and next-

Baby: Unnn... *CRIES* EHEEEE QAQ!!

MC: TOYOTOMI HIDEYOSHI FOR LOVE OF NOBUNAGA CAN YOU NOT-- THE BABY IS ABOUT TO SLEEP OAO

Hideyoshi: *gasp* I- I am indeed loyal to Nobunaga-sama but I don't love him- no I dedicated to him but-

MC: GET OUT OAO

Hideyoshi: EHHH Σ( Д ) ﻌﻌﻌﻌ⊙ ⊙ !!!

3. Masamune

Baby: *cries* EEEHHHEEEE QAQQQ

Masamune: Oohh my little kitten is awake! *craddle her in his arms* there there.. Shhh shhh..

Baby: *sniff* Q3Q

Masamune: *kisses her forehead* Do you want me to sing a lullaby for you?

Baby: Q3Q *rest her head on masamune's chest*

Masamune: Ahh.. Ehh.. I don't know any song tho.. But your Uncle Sasuke has teached me rap song before.

MC: Honey. NO. Rap is NOT a lullaby.

Masamune: Ahahaha I'm joking, MC. Just go to sleep, I got this~

MC: *sigh* Okay, thanks Honey. *smiles at Masamune before she pat the pillow to rest her head*

Baby: Unn *about to cry again*

Masamune: (Hmm I wonder what she want..) Oh! Maybe this one. *strips his top hakama* There.

MC: *heard the word "there" and out of curiosity she turn towards her husband and her eyes went WIDE as BIG AS PLATE* HONEY WHAT THE HELL- WHAT ARE YOU DOING??

Masamune: I was wondering if she want some milk *WINK* 😏😏😏😏

MC: ASDFGHJKLF ((((；ﾟДﾟ)))) DATE MASAMUNE STOP IT THIS INSTANT!!!!!

4. Ieyasu

MC: Anata.. I'm sorry, I still feel weak.

Ieyasu: *kisses MC's temple* It's fine already. Stop apologizing. You deserve rest and I won't expect you to be healthy right away. You are not wonder women. Or whatever the name of the woman from the weird picture thing that weird ninja show me *mumble mumble*

MC: Hehehee Thank you. *kisses him on the cheeks* (*´˘`*)♡

Ieyasu: //////// *COUGH* W-well, sleep. The baby is crying again.

MC: Honey, that's the 4th time you said that. And she is still sleeping. You just put her to sleep right?

Ieyasu: Uh yeah. Well.

MC: Our baby is cute right? (*´˘`*)♡

Ieyasu: Yeah of course. She looks like you afterall >/////> and she's just like you.

MC: Hm? Why?

Ieyasu: Well.. Every time she cried she would always laugh and smile when she see me and she would.. *blushes* suck my thumb until she falls asleep.. *blush darken* c-cute. Like y-you.

MC: Awww ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

Ieyasu: S-STOP IT I'M- I'm not blushing. The weather is too hot- that's all..!! ////////

MC: I didn't say anything about blushing tho. *giggle* and its spring time, Honey (∩´∀`∩)💕

Ieyasu: *POOOOOFFFFF* O////////O

5. Mitsunari

Baby: *about to cry* Unnn QAQ

Mitsunari: Ah..! My little princess..! I'm here, I'm here, I'm- -BAM!!- *slipped on one of his books and fall down* @ A @ hawawa??

MC: *gasp*!! Anata are you okay?? Do you need help?

Mitsunari: Ah, no no MC..! I'm alright! I also didn't know how I can lie down on the floor (*´▽｀)ﾉﾉ

MC: *concerned* are you sure?

Mitsunari: Yes, my wife, don't worry *Rubs his back and continue to walk towards the baby* There, there, I'm here ❀(*´▽`*)❀

Baby: Unnn QAQ

Mitsunari: Oh..! Do you want milk? Uhm- *pauses*

MC:....Anata? Does she want milk?

Mitsunari:.......

MC: *poke* Anata? Hello?

Mitsunari: MC.. I.. *troubled look*

MC: ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ??

Mitsunari: She wants milk but I don't have one what should I do??

MC: ....How we get to make our daughter again?

Mitsunari: Eh? *stare at MC and gasp when the "INFO" blends in* O/////A/////O ah- ah- y-yes- forgive me- the- your- yes.

MC: (*´∨`*) *takes the baby away from Mitsunari as he still blushing all to himself*

6. Mitsuhide

Mitsuhide, whom always be away from the castle to collect information, requested for a long, temporary leave for him to stay at the castle ever since MC gave birth. Just like Hideyoshi (except the overly motherly habits), he takes care of everything for his wife and the baby.

MC: *pat on the baby's back* shhh shhh there there.. Oh no.. She is still crying. I've given her milk and tried to get her to sleep. I wonder why..

Mitsuhide: Come. *takes baby from MC and rest his daughter's head on his shoulder, and when he does it, the baby calmed down*

MC: Oh Anata.. I just can't compete with you. Everytime you do that she will always stop crying.

Mitsuhide: *chuckles* I'm surprised myself. I'm just worried if she doesn't like me.

MC: Aww why would you say that-

Mitsuhide:...Because I'm full with gunpowder smell.

That makes MC silent for a while. But before she speaks again, he said

Mitsuhide: But she didn't. She just smile and sleep on me. Like this.

MC swoons when the love of her life gives a soft smile. The smile only meant for her and her daughter.

Mitsuhide: And it's good because..

MC: *giggles* Because she can sleep easily?

Mitsuhide:......Because one day when she has grown up she can immediately use a gun to fire some useless man. Right, MC? ( ͡^ ͜ʖ ͡^)

MC: Ah... Haah... ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ

Mitsuhide: And when I'm on a mission she can help me to get any bunch of pests to be away from you 😊😊😊

MC: (-"-;)......

Mitsuhide: So we need to "make" more later, in order to protect you 😊😊😊😊

MC: ASGSHDGDJSKF MITSUHIDE- MMMF >/////< *kissed by her husband deeply*

[ikesenhell]

Land of the Living

GLITTER & GOLD, CHAPTER 2. You can find all other IkeSen works of mine here. NOTES: This was a LiveWrite! Thank you to @selenecrawford, @jennacat84, @kerriescreativecorner who hung out and helped make edits!

The sun rose over Waŋblí Hoȟpi, bright orange rays peering over the mountains and plains. Masamune was up with the dawn. Habits died hard, even when you were home. Calming his drumbeat heart was a Herculean task, so he roused himself and took a walk.

Ieyasu had put him up in his house, a small yellow building with a tiny pepper garden out front. Masamune checked on the plants and his bike before ambling down the dusty street. No one stirred at this hour--

Well, save the general store.

He hadn’t expected her out on the front porch. She stood with her arms folded, long, dark hair sweeping behind her in the wind. God. What a sight. Masamune paused and drank it in, watched how the firebrand of the world reflected against the shine of her. Out of all the things he’d seen--all the places he’d been--nothing compared to her.

Eventually she saw him. She blinked in surprise and shot him a smile, so he tipped an imaginary hat and released a whistle.

“Hello there, Lass.”

“Wow. It’s been ages since you called me that.” Her eyes crinkled, fingers beckoning. “Come on. What are you doing up so early?”

“I could ask you the same.”

“Cheater. No fair turning a question around on me without answering it. You want some tea?”

“They don’t offer tea as much out other places, you know.” He tucked his hands in his pockets anyway and stepped onto the porch, following her inside. “Just get up early usually for the drives. You know. Courier stuff.”

“Ah. Courier stuff. I see.” He heard the laugh in her voice more than saw it. “I didn't think couriers had hours, strictly speaking.”

“Not strictly speaking, no, but I liked to keep a good schedule going.”

This time he went with her into the small back kitchen. Long ago, when he was a kid still, he’d watched her father make all the cabinetry out of wood they’d hewn from the mountains. They were made to last, that was certain; she dipped her hand inside one and produced a coffee tin filled with leaves. Masamune brushed back a hand-embroidered curtain from a slender window and settled in. “So. What was your problem? I don’t remember the store ever opening this early.”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t.”

“What, you gonna get me spilling my schedule to you and not divulge yours? That’s just plain rude, Kitten.”

Her smile was thrilling and thin. “Oh, I’m ‘Kitten’ now? Get the honey, would you? I keep it in the spice box.”

Masamune flipped open the small chest on the table and selected the tiny glass jar, setting it by her elbow. She thanked him with a nod and ladled a small spoonful into two mugs. “No, I just--I couldn’t really sleep.”

“Do tell.”

An inhale. That was never good. Whenever someone sucked in a breath like that, Masamune had learned to hold his tongue and hope for the best. Good news never seemed to follow. Sure enough, she shut her eyes and twisted her head, as if just shaking it would push whatever it was away.

“It’s the damn ship.”

A tingle ran up his spine, the bone-deep, ingrained smell of gunpowder lancing through his nose. Without thinking, he cupped a hand over his eyepatch. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So I got up and started sorting out my affairs--”

“No,” he growled. “No, you ain’t. It ain’t gonna take you.”

She shrugged again. “You’re the only one it hasn’t taken.”

“It--” He sputtered through a sentence and tried again. “It didn't take my dad, either. He took him. Look, it--that ship ain’t gonna touch you. You don’t have to settle shit.”

“Rich words coming from the man who’s been on the run from it for the last couple of years.”

That stung. Masamune fell silent and just watched her stir the tea, her brows meaningfully arched. There wasn’t any sense in arguing with her. Instead he shifted closer, wrapping an arm over her shoulders. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”

Her dark eyes glittered sideways at him. He pressed on. “And I ain’t fixin’ to let you just go like that. It’s not about to happen, not while I’m around, Kitten.”

At last--at last!--she leaned her head into the crook of his neck and sighed. Masamune nuzzled her scalp and inhaled the sweet smell of bergamot and spice. Slowly, carefully, he eased her toward the table. “I could take you away from here, you know.”

Her eyelashes fluttered. “I know.”

“We could just go. Anywhere. Anywhere you want.”

“I know.”

“Being a courier ain’t so bad,” he assured her. “It’s all the road you’d ever want and all the sunsets. No ship ever touched me out there on the road. It won’t touch you here, but--”

The bell at the front of the shop jingled. She frowned, casting a glance toward the door, and got to her feet. “No one should be stopping in at this time.”

“I’ll wait.”

She rounded the corner. Masamune took a long sip of the tea and wondered if he could get cloves all the way out here. He’d found some in the west, maybe it would stand the journey--

“Ah!” A man’s voice boomed through the shop. “The new chosen!”

That sounded ominous.

“Excuse me?” Her voice faltered for only a moment. “I’m sorry--we’re not open yet--”

“Don’t worry about that. Such things are the mundane. No more!”

“Th’fuck?” Masamune muttered, and got to his feet.

“Your new journey awaits! You were chosen by The Ship! Your shop is the domain of the living, not the chosen dead--”

That was quite enough. He rounded the corner, rolling back his sleeves meaningfully. She stood behind her counter, brows arched and back rigid. The speaker wasn’t much to look at; an ordinary man in jeans and a worn t-shirt, a thin farming jacket slung over his arms. As soon as he laid eyes on Masamune, he blanched.

“You got a problem, here?” Masamune growled. “Should I be seeing him out?”

“Yeah.” Her voice shook. “If you don’t leave, I’m afraid we’ll have to escort you out.”

The man who stared at them was a stranger. And that was an oddity of its own--Waŋblí Hoȟpi wasn’t large enough to have outsiders, exactly. Then again, it had been quite a long time since he’d been home. Maybe it was a newcomer. Masamune took another meaningful step forward. “You heard the Lass.”

“You,” the stranger breathed. “Masamune Date. The one that defied Fate.”

“The one that did what?” He snapped, regaining his composure only a moment later. “Y’know what? Yeah. Sure. Sounds strange, but I’ll go with it. Besides that, you got a choice here: leave the shop on two legs, or just one. You feel me?”

At last, the threat hit home. Casting her one final look, the stranger disappeared between the store shelves, the bell announcing his departure only a moment later. Masamune vaulted the counter after him.

“I’m locking that damn door.”

She took a steadying breath. “Yeah.”

He locked all the bolts in record time. “You know that fellow?”

“No,” she answered. He heard the familiar scrape of a shotgun pulled out from under the counter and the crack of checking to see if it was loaded. “And I don’t plan on it. He might be one of those weird folk that moved outside the town limits.”

“Can’t say I know ‘bout them.”

“Yeah, couple years back, we got word of some people squatting out there in the old farming areas. Didn't see a point in clearing them out, I think, cause there just wasn’t any threat to them. Suffice to say, I’m creeped out.” She joined him at the door, gun in hand. “He still out there?”

Masamune parted a curtain and shot his glance up and down the street. “Can’t see him now.”

“Great.” She didn't ease up on her grip. “Just great. How do you think he knew?”

“Words gets out, I think.”

“That it does,” she replied solemnly. At last, she rubbed her eyes. “What the actual fuck was that about?”

“Dunno, but it creeped the living hell outta me.” Masamune snapped the curtain shut and turned to her, stroking her hair. “You okay?”

“No.” She exhaled hard and spun on her heel, marching back to the kitchen. He followed at a clip. “No, I’m not. I don’t--I don’t want to be chosen. I’m not--I’m not going to die. Not like this.”

“Atta girl,” he praised, checking out the back window. In the distance, someone stood--doing what, he wasn’t certain. He wrenched the curtain shut. “Ain’t no one gonna take you.”

“No. They’re not.” Setting the shotgun down on the kitchen counter, she rounded on him and declared, “I’m going to find out what’s up with that ship.”

---

“No.” Ieyasu was barely audible over Mitsuhide’s strangled laughter. “No. This is stupid.”

“Let him--” Mitsuhide wheezed for air, “Let him finish. I want to hear how this train will wreck today.”

“Kitten’s gotten resolved to track the damn thing down.”

Mitsuhide rocked back so hard in his chair that it collapsed underneath him. Mitsunari gasped and lunged to his aid. Ieyasu just scowled.

“How does she propose to do that? Follow the nonexistent tracks? Smell the nothing on the wind?”

“It’s got something to do with those weirdos outside of town, we think.”

“‘Think’,” Ieyasu repeated. “Are you sure there’s a lot of thinking going on here? It doesn’t sound like it. That ship predates anyone here at the settlement.”

“Look,” Masamune snapped. “How many people have you lost to a fucking ghost ship?”

That stopped the laughter. Mitsuhide pried himself from the wreckage of the chair and straightened up, brushing himself off. Emboldened, Masamune pressed forward. “How many times is this gonna happen before you do something about it?”

Ieyasu’s eyebrows crinkled. “It isn’t a matter of doing something. There’s not much that can be done for a hallucination, or whatever it is--”

“My ass it’s a hallucination. Do you think what happened to my dad was a hallucination?”

The other man opened his mouth and clearly thought better of it. Slowly, he closed it again. “That’s not a fair question.”

“Yeah, it is.” Masamune rapped his knuckles on the table. “How many times is it gonna happen before you take it seriously? When a third of the town is gone? Half? All of it?”

“A fair point,” Mitsuhide drawled, finally serious. “Though it begs the question of where, exactly, you propose we start. It isn’t as if we’ve been sitting on our asses while people disappear.”

That was a good question. He didn't have any clear cut answers--just a few hunches. “Look. I’ll do a little field work. If I need some references, I’ll bring it back to you all. Deal?”

Mitsunari beamed. “We’d love to help. Right, Ieyasu?”

“Go dunk yourself in the missile silo,” Ieyasu grumbled. “Fine.”

[sabraeal]

Kiki and obi shenanigans, modern au. Up to no good… pranks on the squad :P probably Mitsuhide but zen or shirayuki would be good too.

“This health food thing has gone on long enough.”

Obi bangs around the cabinets blearily, scowl pulling his mouth long, tossing aside small crinkling packages that read whole-grain quinoa and flaxseed, to rummage in the deep recesses of the kitchen. Mitsuhide watches distractedly, sipping at his protein shake and hardly even noticing the chalky taste.

Don’t worry, Dad. Even now he can see that slant to her smile, the way her lips seemed to be holding secrets at bay. I’ve got the husband thing handled.

“Look at this!” Obi holds out a shimmery bag at arm’s length. “Kelp. Not even seaweed. But kelp. She puts this in her cereal, Big Guy.” He presses a hand to his chest, scandalized. “All I want is to find a freaking box of Cocoa Puffs the first time through, and I find this. You know,” Obi is warming to the topic now, dropping his voice to a loud whisper, “she brought bran muffins to study group –”

“Obi.” Mitsuhide’s hands pale where he grips at the counter. “Can I talk to you?”

Obi so stands abruptly he clips his head on a shelf, the whole cabinet rattling with the force of it.

“Ah, fuck,” he hisses, rubbing at the back of his head sheepishly. “Yeah, sure. What’s –” Obi’s voice stutters when he turns, finally looking him in the face – “up?”

He laughs, nervous. “That’s some look, Big Guy.” His hand comes up, rubbing at his shoulder. “I haven’t even done anything yet –”

“No, no.” Mitsuhide shakes his head, trying to force his mouth to smile but – but he doesn’t feel it, not now, not when –

I’ve got the husband thing handled.

“That’s not it,” he grits out, his hands in tight fists on the countertop. “I just wanted to ask you about…about something personal.”

Obi stares at him wide-eyed, and really – no one is more surprised than Mitsuhide himself that it’s come to this, that there’s no one else he trusts more about this kind of stuff than someone who thinks kid’s cereal is a meal.

“Please,” he says, eyes fixed to where his knuckles have gone starkly white against the formica. “Don’t tell anyone else.”

“I –” Obi bites off whatever he was about to say, turning his head away and pulling hard at his shoulder. “Yeah, sure, Big Guy. Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Do you know if…” Crisse, he can’t even look at him. This isn’t any of his business, and it’s even less of Obi’s but – “Do you know if Kiki is, ah…seeing anyone?”

Obi stares dumbly for a long moment, the only movement on him the slow blink of his eyes and the incredulous huff of his breath.

His mouth crooks, his eyes narrow, and Obi sits back in his hips, letting his hands drop to the island. “Well, I guess you’ve found us out, Big Guy.”

There is literally nothing about this that he trusts. “What?”

“Me and Kiki have been fooling around for a while now,” he drawls airily, flashing him some sharp canines. “You know. Friends with bens. Eff-dubya-bee.”

He winks.

“Fine,” Mitsuhide sighs, shoving away from the counter. “Don’t take this seriously.”

This problem set is going to be the death of her.

Kiki is excellent at crisis management – a savant really, which is good because Zen can be a public relations nightmare without even leaving his bedroom – but she’s six problems into a ten page set, and she’s about ready to strangle CEO B (head of a Fortune 500 company) with nothing more than the drawstring of her hoodie. He’s the issue owner of every gaffe for the past five problems, and honestly, if she didn’t think Professort Luigis would take points off, her solution to ‘how do you resolve the issue?’ would be arranging for CEO B to have an accident in his thirty-fourth floor office. Namely taking the fast way down to the lobby.

“Uh,” she hears from the doorway. “Kiki?”

Her papers are strewn across the coffee table, spilling off the edge onto the floor and creeping up the couch. She’s not sure how long she’s been there, but there’s a stale taste to her mouth that says hours at least, and her tea’s gone cold in her thermos. God, what is she even wearing? Not a bra, that’s for sure. Fuck midterms, honestly.

She looks up, and of course, of course it’s Mitsuhide. Not that she minds, he’s seen her vomiting before (unplanned, a stomach flu that took her hard her first week in the chapter house), but they haven’t talked in days, and she likes leaving him a more…put-together image over long periods of time. Something to leave him thinking about.

Fine, she likes to look hot, like a flannel-wrapped dreamboat that he wants to peel his LaFleur jersey off of. Sue her.

“Hey,” she says, so cool. She’s aware she’s on the floor in sweat pants she’s stolen from him, pegged up to her knees because any lower and they unroll, with a sweatshirt that has a ketchup stain (not hers, and only from this morning. One day Obi will learn to use his huge hands to not squirt condiments all over the table, but today is not that day).Sexy.

“Did you need the couch?” She hopes her eyes convey that she would very much like him to come sit behind her. Maybe even massage her shoulders a little with his huge, strong hands, and – “I could move my stuff.”

“No.” He lingers nervously at the archway, face troubled. “I just…saw you and thought, er…”

That he’d come manhandle her? C’mon, let that be it. There’s a crick in her neck and she has been a very good girl lately.

“Obi said something the other day,” he admits, like it pains him. That in itself isn’t strange; Obi is about as pleasant as a hernia on a good day.

“Obi says a lot of things,” she replies, raising her eyebrows. “Did this involve me somehow?”

“You could – yes.” He grits his teeth, and she’s interested now, turning to face him. “He said that you…um…that you were…” His voice drops; she has to struggle to make out, “Sleeping together.”

What. She tenses her eyelids so she doesn’t blink in confusion, doesn’t give away the game. Across space and time, she hears Obi say, trust me.

Well, at least this will be funny.

“Oh yeah,” she lies, “like three times a week. Regular orgasms really clear the head.”

His jaw drops. “Wha – Obi? Why?”

She smirks, leaning on her problem set, so casual. “Come on, Mitsuhide,” she croons, “have you seen those hands? Mm.”

Is there a reason Mitsuhide thinks we’re fuckingA good reason, I mean

its fkn hilarious lolbside that?

That is the question

he wanted 2 no if u were cn any1it ws lik angels cam dwn 2 giv me th sweetest prank f all timwat ws i suppsd 2 do?dnt tell himits funnier this way

….All rightIt is pretty funny

its lik th prank that keeps n givin

Snow still lingers on the grass, but the day is warm, and Shirayuki finds an extra spring to her step when she bounds up the walk to the chapter house. Her presentation went well in art history – even though she’s not sure she could tell the difference between Titian and Carvaggio without her copious notes (painstakingly reviewed and corrected by Zen and Kiki the night before) – and to celebrate, she veered through the campus conservatory, letting the humid air and floral scents wash over her. She’s not sure she could be in a bad mood if she tried.

Mitsuhide is on the veranda, slowly rocking the swing with one foot, creak-creak-creak. They’ll have to oil it come spring, otherwise Zen will complain about the sound all through finals.

“Hi, Mitsuhide!” she chirps, bounding up the steps. “Nice day, isn’t it?”

He shakes himself, like he’s waking from a dream, and blinks owlishly up at her. “Huh? Oh, Shirayuki. Yeah, nice, I guess.”

Her mouth pulls into a frown. Mitsuhide’s been like this for at least a week now; sullen and distracted, almost listless. She would blame it on the weather – it’s hard to keep cheerful when schoolwork weighs heavily on you like this, and the days are so short – but the past few days have been hinting at not only spring but summer, and his mood has only grown worse.

“You know,” she starts, drawling the words uncertainly. “If there’s something bothering you, you should talk about it.”

“What?” He jumps, eyes darting wildly toward the door before skittering across the lawn. “No, nothing’s wrong. I’m – I’m fine with…everything. Things are good. I’m just –” sweat beads at his brow – “I’m just minding my business.”

“Okay,” she says, wide-eyed. “Great.” Her hand falls onto the front door, grasping the handle. “I’ll just –”

“I wouldn’t,” he blurts out, hand outstretched. “You don’t – it might not be safe.”

Her heart pounds at his words, and she drops the handle as if it scalds her. “Not…safe?”

She cradles her hand against her chest, breath coming is short bursts. She must be misunderstanding, there’s no way – Clarines had been the safest place she’s ever know and she can’t – it can’t –

“Obi and Kiki are in there,” he explains dully. “You shouldn’t – you don’t want to interrupt them.”

She can suddenly breathe again. “Oh,” she laughs, bracing herself against the door. “Are they fighting again? Someone should probably stop –”

“No, not fighting, they…” Mitsuhide sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Obi and Kiki are sleeping together.”

Shirayuki’s not even moving, but she stumbles. That’s what happen when the rug is pulled out beneath you.

“What?” she breathes, fingernails scratching against paint. She has to will her hand flat again. “No way.”

“Yeah, it’s, uh…” He grimaces. “A casual thing. Friends with benefits.”

There’s something clinging to her skin, something that makes it crawl and drip and drag, and she – this isn’t – “Kiki? With Obi?”

She could have sworn – Kiki always said –

Mitsuhide nods, slow, painful, and – and he wouldn’t say something like that if it wasn’t true. He didn’t lie, and he wouldn’t spread rumors, so – so –

“I, uh.” Shirayuki shuffles away from the door. Her breath comes harshly, comes raggedly, and she shouldn’t – she doesn’t have any reason to feel like this. “I have something to do. In the library.”

She scurries down the front walk, drawing her cardigan around her, and wonders where the nice day went.

Obi’s not sure how it happens, but their late-night anime watching turns into before-bed anime watching, Doc curled against his side as they lay on his narrow bed, one leg thrown over his and head cradled in the curve of his shoulder. She’s warm against him, comforting, and it’s not really a surprise how easily he find himself slipping towards sleep when they’re like this, when she acts like he’s – he’s –

Normal. The sort of guy you let yourself fall asleep next to, in a platonic way.

God, he needs to not fuck this up. This whole friendship thing.

Two episodes is usually enough to make her go soft against him, to send her slow, even breath curling across his collarbone, but tonight she is rigid beside him, her legs firmly crossed over each other instead of his. He peers down to see her worrying at her lip, mouth tipped at the edges into a thoughtful frown.

“Hey,” He squeezes her playfully, making her look up at him. “You okay, Doc?”

Her eyes dart away from his for a moment, and he’s lost at what to do, how to even go about asking her what’s wrong, when she blurts out, “Do you want me to leave?”

He blinks. “What?”

“I…” She squirms against him, as if she isn’t sure whether to push away or press closer. “You don’t have anything you’d rather be, um, doing?”

Besides giving them another reason to be falling asleep in this bed? “Should I?”

“I…” She lays her head against his shoulder, and it strikes him that she’s sad. “I just though you’d rather be with Kiki, because, um…”

“I like having my ass kicked?” he laughs, eyebrows raised. “That’s like a once a week thing. My pride can only take so much, Doc.”

“No, because…” She gives a little frustrated moan, burying her head in her hands. “Because you’re, you know –” her voice drops into a whisper – “having sex.”

“WHAT?”

Doc jumps, hands clamping down on his shirt to keep her from flailing off the bed. “I just…” Her eyes are wide, earnest. “Mitsuhide said…”

“Wha-what?” He should really, really think before he opens his big mouth sometimes. “No, that’s – gimme a sec.”

Zen is finally home, comfortable in his flannel pants; buried deep in the common room’s best easy chair, feet kicked up as Captain Holt says boNE in varying degrees of incredulity, when Kiki’s phone loudly interrupts.

He grunts, annoyed, and she rolls her eyes. A glance at the screen sends her eyebrows up to her hairline, and she flicks back a simple answer.

“Hey, Mitsuhide,” she says, bemused.

“Mm?” he groans from his place on the floor, half asleep over his law books.

“I’m not fucking Obi.” Zen stares, but Kiki is straight-faced, serious, like she’s pulling off a band-aid. “It was just fucking funny to make you think so. But joke’s over.”

“What.”

Zen closes his laptop, sighing with regret as he levers himself out of the chair. “I’m just going to go…not be here for this, thanks.”

ABORT ABORT PLAN CANCELLED PRANK OVER

K