#ikesen tag

[sh0jun]

MC telling the warlords they need to see a therapist. ESPECIALLY NOBUNAGA!

How would they react to that 🤔

OMG HI

XD yes they definitely do need therapy qwq

Telling the warlords they NEED to see a therapist

Their first question to this statement would be, "what the hell is a therapist?"

After you explain what a therapist is and that you've already booked a lesson for them meaning they HAVE to go there (because they cannot say no to you). Weapons are not allowed during the session.

• Oda Forces

→ Nobunaga Oda

• oh? Interesting.

• the therapist and he will have an interesting talk to say the least.

• obviously he isn't really going to answer any of the therapist's questions. Well not a straight answer anyways

• will scowl every time the therapist manages to figure him out

• in the end he doesn't open up to the therapist and instead challenges them to a battle of Go.

→ Hideyoshi Toyotomi

• ends up helping the therapist

• that's it

• he listens to the therapist's problems and tries to help him the best he can

• somewhere during the session he will confess his undying loyalty to Nobunaga

• Therapist tries to tell him to value himself more

• the therapist almost gets punched

• how did things go there? I think you can figure it out

→ Mitsuhide Akechi

• another one who doesn't open up to the therapist

• they both actually have a.....competition? They both counter attack each other by asking questions

• this goes on for a WHILE a long long while

• of course Mitsuhide won. But he tells the therapist he enjoyed the session

• no he's not coming back again. The therapist got way too close to figuring him out.

→ Masamune Date

• ends up crying and confessing anything mid way through the session

• idk why. I see him as someone who would do that

• anyways he will also boast about his cooking, Shogetsu and MC

• will invite the therapist over to lunch

→ Ieyasu Tokugawa

• doesn't want to go.

• what do you mean he's going to help me with my past traumas? I don't want to go

• he's like a cat when you try to take them to the vet

• very grumpy and salty throughout the session. Would not give a straight answer to any of the questions

• would leave midway through the session

→ Mitsunari Ishida

• sunshine. Angel. Not even 5 minutes into the session and the therapist knows what his problem is

• he will try his best to help out this angel

→ Keiji Maeda

• no.

• refuses to go.

• doesn't want to risk getting caught. He will dissappear once again just to leave the session

→ Ranmaru Mori

• also ends up crying and confessing

• this is the only one so far with whom the session has gone smoothly

• Uesugi Takeda Forces

→ Kenshin Uesugi

• he was already upset because his weapon got confiscated.

• points a knife at the therapist when he touches a particularly delicate subject

• where did the knife come from? No idea.

• someone needs to stay in the room (MC) to calm him down

• will need many more therapy lessons but the therapist has refused to attend any more sessions with him

→ Shingen Takeda

• flirts with the Therapist

• either charms the therapist or gets kicked out

• even the therapist tells him to lower it down in the sugar intake

→ Yoshimoto Imagawa

• therapist tries his best to keep up with Yoshimoto

• but over time he gets lost

• he will also probably get kicked out

→ Kanetsugu Naoe

• another one who has a hidden knife

• actually talks pretty formally with the therapist

• the therapist already kind of shaken up by the incident with kenshin approaches the subject pretty cautiously

• surprisingly enough Kanetsugu cooperates

• success!

→ Yukimura Sanada

• does he need therapy? I personally think he doesn't

• maybe he does but not as much as the others

→ Sasuke Sarutobi

• I don't think he needs therapy

• he does but not many sessions

• very cooperative

• sits through the Sessions with others to calm them down in case they decide to attack the poor fellow doctor

• Lone Forces

→ Kicho

• doesn't want to go

• he was already traumatized enough. Why must he approach the subject again

• will be cooperative as in will not point any hidden weapons at the therapist

→ Motonari Mouri

• he just dissapears

• you won't see him at the sessions at all

→ Kennyo

• reluctantly agrees

• reluctantly cooperates

• would go in meditative state sometimes just to avoid some questions

Thankyou for reading!

I tried to add them all in this one! But some of them are a little shorter than the others as I have no idea what they might do qwq

Taglist:

@bakersgrief @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @mollycoddle707 @bontu-the-l0ver @ludivineikewolf

[ikeromantic]

New Year's Ask Event

I'd love to see Mitsuhide with my OC, Bryndolyn. (She has red hair, green eyes, and freckles, curvy build. She's happy/giggling and blushes easily. She'd do anything to help someone else, but she's no pushover. She understands the importance of standing her ground when necessary and she'd stand by her man to the last.)

Sweet/Spicy

How about a first kiss after (or during) a snowball fight! 🤭

Thank you!! 🥰

Awww thank you for entrusting me with your lovely OC. I hope I've done her justice! Approx. 900 words of first kiss sweetness ^_^

Mitsuhide surveyed the battlefield. Snowballs splattered the trees and stone pathway through the garden. Damp patches and bits of ice clung to his clothes where his little mouse had scored a point. Bryndolyn was behind a line of brush just ahead of him. She thought herself well-hidden, but he could see the red of her hair peeking through the winter-dark limbs. That and she kept stifling a giggle. 

There were two possible methods of approach. To the left, a line of evergreen trees he could use for cover as he came around to flank her. Or to the right, which would bring him under the eave of his home but without any cover. The choice was obvious. Only a fool would take the unprotected route and get the deserved snowball to the face. 

He ducked behind the line of trees, stepping carefully to avoid crunching the packed snow underfoot. Mitsuhide did not disturb the pine needles as he moved through them. The creaking of snow-covered branches covered the sound of his quiet breath. He slipped through the veil of icy branches and there she was. Crouched, a snowball in one mittened hand, the other hand tucked under her furry cloak. 

Bryndolyn was facing his direction, her cheeks and nose pink with cold. A smile lifted the corners of her mouth and danced in her eyes. “Oh no! You found me!”

“I have.” He held up the snowball in his gloved hand. “Are you ready to face the consequences?” 

A hint of mischief entered her grin. “You first.” She moved the arm beneath her cloak, tugging a long, thin cord into view. The branches above him dipped and a pile of snow fell on his head. Bryndolyn giggled at his sudden gasp and then she tried to leap away.

Mitsuhide wasn’t about to let her escape after such daring trickery. He lunged forward, capturing her in his arms even as they both fell forward into the snow. Mitsuhide twisted as they tumbled, protecting her. They landed in a tangle of limbs and cloth, Mitsuhide on bottom and Bryndolyn held tight against his chest. 

Bryndolyn’s green eyes were wide and surprised, but one look at his face and mirth replaced the shock. She started to laugh. 

“Are you amused, little mouse?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah.” She looked pleased with herself. “You always win, but this time I got you!”

He grinned. “Is that so? Because it seems to me that you are the one caught.” Mitsuhide tightened his hold on her. He could not help but be very aware of the luscious curves of her pressed against him. The softness of her round hips and full breasts beneath the heavy winter clothes. The nearness of her.

“Maybe, but you didn’t see the look on your face. I wish I had a picture.” She giggled again. “You still look pretty surprised!”

“Surprise, hm?” Mitsuhide loved the expression she wore now. Joy and affection lit her smile like a lantern on a winter night. “Little one, do you think it is surprise you see?”

Bryndolyn eyes widened as she suddenly realized how close they were, how tightly she was held. Hre gaze met his and there was a heat in them he had not expected. Desire as bright and warm as her happiness. “Stop trying to tease me.”

“Am I teasing?” He brushed a gloved finger along her jaw line. She was so lovely, he thought. Fiery haired, eyes like polished jade, lips that looked as soft and sweet as a summer peach. If anyone was teased, he thought, it was him. 

She leaned her face closer to his, studying his expression. “Are you?”

Mitsuhide knew he ought to let her up. Push her away. Laugh the moment off. But he didn’t want to. He wanted her. His precious, silly, amazing, beautiful Bryndolyn. His hand slipped to the back of her neck, sliding beneath her loose hair. His chest felt hot and tight. His pulse was pounding madly and he could feel the galloping beat of her heart in time with his own. 

He was not an impulsive man. Not one to bend to whim and want. But this was so much more than mere desire. It was only a slight shift of his head. The merest motion to cross a fingersbreadth of space between them. His lips met hers in a rush of misting breath. 

Her kiss was as warm and soft and sweet as he imagined. Moreso. Though it lasted only a moment, a handful of racing heartbeats, a breath, Mitsuhide felt that kiss to his core. The heat of her lips shivered through him and left an ache in his soul when parted from his. 

Bryndolyn gazed down at him with an intense expression. There were emotions shifting in the depths of that emerald sea. Deep, hidden and mysterious, even to Mitsuhide. She touched his cheek with a mittened hand, and he could feel the shape of her fingers beneath. “Are you,” she murmured, repeating her question. 

Mitsuhide could only smile his crescent moon smile.

[workbyrui]

Happy birthday, Hideyoshiiiiiiiiii!❤💚

This is him getting the Hideyoshi treatment for his birthday this year!

*headpat, headpat!*

Thank you for always looking out for everyone!

[indecisive-changeling]

Hello otome-enjoyer nation. Happy new year!! I recently got into Ikémen Series and i just wanna say its so fun🥹?! Focusing on IkeSen and IkeVamp because…storage issues:((

But IkeSen feels so nostalgic because of the overly-detailed clothes and decor…even tho I haven’t played anything like it lol. I chose Nobunaga’s route (mainly because of his voice) and is interested in Ieyasu’s ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻). Still have to choose a route for Ikevamp but i might go Napoleon’s or Wolfgang’s…

I try not to think of it, but when i hear these names i remember they’re from actual people and their faces flash in my mind 😵‍💫😵‍💫 especially Napoleon’s… ( ;´ - `;) breaks the immersion sometimes cuz i think of his short ass and tight pants😀

Posted this because i want to ask tips and advices as an F2P!! And maybe some company because i’ve only seen tips from reddit posts 7 years ago😭 and only a few tiktoks from 2 years ago😭😭 or 3 now that we r in 2025?! I feel so lonely ;^;

Like how do i get more clothes in IkeSen?! Tips on how to beat Princess Lessons and Glam-offs?? Cuz my princess-from-afar is so barren and basic ˙◠˙ Should i spend gold to gacha for clothes or save it?!?

And my IkeSen keeps having this “Access Denied Access Denied” screen, often in the middle of chapters or if i leave it untouched :( i use an Iphone to play (with freaking storage issues) (why do pictures have to take sm gb???). What do i do with it, its so annoying:((

Anyways that’s it ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ have a good n lovely day-night peeps :DD

[natimiles]

Random question of the day:

What I think of mine (here comes my long ass list of faves):

Roger: yes

Liam: yes

Ring: no, he'd die of embarrasment

Isaac: yes, but he'd probably be afraid to hurt me by accident

Mozart: yes

Nokto: yes

Ieyasu: yes, after I insist

Kanetsugu: no (idk why, he just doesn't give me that vibe)

Mitsuhide: yes

Rafayel: yes

Levi: no, he'd die of embarrasment #2

Satan: yes, after I insist #2

Simeon: yes

So, the overall result is: yes

[aquagirl1978]

Time to update my tag list - if you'd like to be added, please either reply to this post or send me a DM/ask - you can specify which series or all series, characters, and NSFW/SFW. I will assume all series/characters if you don't specify.

I write for the following series (I have about 15 Vamp/Sen fics coming soon):

Ikemen Sengoku

Ikemen Revolution

Ikemen Vampire

Ikemen Prince

Ikemen Villains

[gothmayoi]

i was reading ranmaru mori's wiki page and found this. is this common knowledge? i had no idea 😭

[ikemen-daily-questions]

Question Of The Day

Are there any polyships you imagine with your fave(s)? Or are there any suitor/suitor ships you enjoy? Tell us about it! Go ham detailing hcs if you want!

╰❧ Daily Q's can be answered with your voice- or your OC's!

If you'd like to suggest a question, send me an ask! || About This Blog

Divider by @/cafekitsune

[sh0jun]

Okay Hideyoshi

No offense

But that sounded more like a group study project rather than discussing war

[ikeromantic]

Hi dear.

Hope that your holidays have been great and you will have an amazing new year.

Regarding your ikemen event.

What do you say to give Mitsuhide and Ivy Rose a combo (you know I don't mind any of the categories) if memory serves me right, then the last time they were in one of your lovely works, it was the one with the wormhole and it ended on an open cliffhanger ^^

So the scenario could be would they be able to find their way back to each other in time or would they missed their moments by mere seconds.

Sorry, this came to mind when I thought of a scenario, and I blame it on the fact it is well past midnight here right now. xD

It would be the 3 piece with those two and it only seem fair that this ship gets a last one - kind of like Motonari and Ivy Rose have 3. ^^

You are so sweet! Oooh and coming up with a part 2 for Lover Lost! Yes! This was fun ^_^ This story follows Lover Lost - approx 900 words.

The rain fell at a slant. Sharp, cold needles of water that soaked through clothes and turned the skin to ice. Mitsuhide ignored the chill, the shivers that ran up his limbs. The cold wasn’t important. He needed to be out here, to -

“Are you sure this is the one?” Hideyoshi’s voice came through the roar of storm, barely audible despite his shouting. 

Mitsuhide gave a tired nod. Surely this one was it. Another of those ‘worm holes’ Sarutobi described. High winds, loud thunder, lightning arcing through the sky. He’d been hunting these storms since one took his Ivy Rose from him.

Hideyoshi moved closer, close enough that Mitsuhide could see his rain-streaked face, wet hair plastered to his head. “You said that last time too!” 

“I’m sure. And if not this storm, then the next one.” He walked past Toyotomi, unwilling to have this conversation again. She would come back, he knew. There was no way Ivy Rose wasn’t doing the same thing, wherever she’d ended up when the worm hole took her. Seeking a way back. One of them would succeed. Mitsuhide knew it as surely as he knew the sun would rise.

He pushed ahead as the wind gusts came stronger and more frequently. Above him, branches creaked and there was the sound of cracking wood, as loud as a shot from a tanegashima. The rain was falling so hard now that Mitsuhide could not see past more than a handsbreadth ahead. 

Hideyoshi’s hand fell on his shoulder, forcing him to stop. “She’s not here, Mitsuhide. Ivy Rose is gone. You’re just going to get yourself killed like this.”

Mitsuhide pulled out of Hideyoshi’s grasp. “She is not gone.” 

He wasn’t sure if Toyotomi heard him or not, and didn’t care. He stumbled on, deeper into the gloom. The storm was a physical force, a pressure against his skin. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stood up, and his bones felt the shudder of every crash of thunder. 

Then there was nothing. A sudden, absolute emptiness. As if Mitsuhide stepped from the rain into an abyss. A place outside of the world, outside of time. Fear gripped his belly, but his heart sang. “Ivy!”

His shout sounded muffled, even to his own ears. “Ivy Rose!” There was no reply. Only the darkness, stretching away from him in every direction. An absence of light, of warmth. Panic welled up in him and he pushed it away. He was the left hand of the Oda. He was Mitsuhide Akechi. And no storm, no void, no worm hole, would keep him from his little one. 

Mitsuhide rallied himself. In every situation, there were angles. Connections. Levers. Ways to work and move through them. Surely this place, this thing, had them as well. Even the abyss had to have geography. He stopped stumbling forward, rushing toward nothing, to think. 

Behind him was the Sengoku. He’d only walked forward so far, so that meant he had just three directions to consider. Left, right, forward. Any could be right - or wrong. There was no physical sign to give him a clue, which left only the non-physical. Science, magic, and desire. Mitsuhide did not understand Sarutobi’s science, and he was no magician. The only tool he had was his own heart.

He closed his eyes and focused himself on what he wanted. Ivy Rose in his arms again. The scent of her hair, the softness of her lips. Mitsuhide pictured her in minute detail. Remembering every feature, from the freckle on the top of her foot, to the curl of hair just behind her ear. Then, when he held all of her in his mind’s eye, he took a step. Another. And another. 

“Mitsuhide?” 

His eyes opened to a sudden flash of lightning. The rain roared around him again, and he staggered. The void was gone. Ivy Rose . . .

“Mitsuhide!” And in a heartbeat, she was there. Arms wrapped around him, holding him. Her hands clasping his arms, cupping his cheeks, holding his hands. “It’s you! Really you!”

“Ivy Rose.” His arms went around her. This moment he’d dreamed of for more than a year. It felt as if it could not be real. 

She smiled up at him, tears and rain mixing on her cheeks. “I kept looking for a way home. I didn’t know . . . I thought . . .”

He pulled her close, holding her so tight that for a moment, neither of them could breathe. “You came back.”

“You found me.” 

“Nothing will take you from me again.” Mitsuhide kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. He didn’t notice the spill of tears from his own eyes, nor his ragged breath. “Nothing.”

Ivy Rose clung to him, kissed him back. “Nothing,” she agreed. 

He lifted her into his arms and carried her back toward Azuchi castle. His heart felt full as if to burst, and he still couldn’t quite convince himself this was real and not a dream. That his Ivy Rose would still be in his arms instead of dissipating with the dawn. 

“I’m going to hold you until the sun comes up.” He kissed her temple.

“Longer than that, I hope,” she smiled up at him. 

“Much longer.”

[misty-moth]

I’m having a grand ol’ time~

[rkmaru]

This is how I imagine the cutscenes with the boys all huddled together in the war room.

[revasserium]

I'm being a rebel and requesting Ikesen Masamune and barefoot 💜

send me one and a character u__u

hurricane (prompt: barefoot)

masamune; 1,813; fluff and... that's it; @violettduchess is quite possibly one of the only ppl who can get me to write for a fandom that i had no plans in joining BUT HERE I AM FOLKS. here the fuCK i am.

he has always been a hurricane.

there are moments in a person’s life big enough for a single choice to put them on a completely different path, and then — there are those moments, much smaller moments, adding up to that one, bigger, monumental, life-changing moment. this is one of the latter.

the moon is heaven bright, swinging low in a full-bellied sky, and insomnia had plagued you till you’d come into the inner gardens for refuge. at least here, it felt like you were stuck between the pages of a waking dream. so… sleep-adjacent, right? right.

you swing your feet off the edge of the pristinely mopped wooden walkways, your sketchbook propped in your lap, a charcoal pencil gliding over the smooth, moon-bleached pages. you let your hand take the drawing where it wants, and these days, there’s only one place that your hand (and, subsequently the rest of your mind and body) seems to want to go.

masamune.

he appears as fish-tail flicks of your wrist bring him to life on the pages, each sketch fluid and overlapping with the next, almost like the depiction of dance — the crinkle at the edge of his eye, the curve of his hand as he rests it on the hilt of one of his blades, the strong, graceful slope of his shoulders and back, the crescent moon curve of his lips as he smiles, ever light, ever teasing, in your direction.

“ah… is that what i look like?”

his voice makes you jump, and even now after all this time, it sets your heart racing in your chest as you whirl around to find his nose inches from yours, that self-same smile hinged across his damnably gorgeous lips.

“w-wh — why aren’t you sleeping?” is your stumbling, cobbled together response to being jump-scared in the middle of his castle pagoda, but it’s the best you could come up with. he only leans back, chuckling, his arms tucked into the long thin sleeves of his kosode as he casts his eye up towards the full moon, his expression for once devoid if mischief or calculation. it’s strange, seeing him like this, so still and so quiet, and something about it makes you go still too, wondering if this is what its like to be caught in the eye of the storm, where the quiet is only ever momentary and destruction dances just beyond where your mind can reach.

“i could ask the same of you, kitten. so tell me… why aren’t you sleeping?” he grins as he joins you, propping one arm on a bent knee, watching as you gather yourself, palms pressing to the pages of your sketchbook.

“i… i couldn’t sleep.” you look down at your own knees, and it strikes you then that your feet are still bare. you can’t help glancing at masamune, and sure enough, his feet are bare too. no wonder i hadn’t heard him coming.

but something about this sets you off, the sight of his bare feet next to yours, and even though it shouldn’t be so tantalizing a thing — the flicker of bare flesh, the hint of skin unseen— you feel like one of those ancient victorian maidens, blushing at the sight of bare ankles.

you can’t help it; you start to laugh.

and masamune, sitting beside you, finds himself transfixed, held still by the sound of your laughter, pouring from you like rainwater from a stream. so clear and beautiful it sets his body arrack with shivers.

“what?” he asks, quirking an eyebrow, “is there something on my face?”

at this, you pause, stifling your giggles with a hand pressed to your lips, and you look at him. your eyes meet, and not for the first time, you feel yourself falling into them — into him. even like this, his one blue eye is something of a miracle, a thing of celestial majesty. it wasn’t until you’d met him that you’d realized what blue eyes look like up close — up close, they are the shattered light of a millions stars, fractured and reformed and singing through a universe of endless dark to end up here, shining out from him and landing on you, and god — he’s looking at you like all those million, billion years of starlight had traveled the expanse of every galaxy just to look at you.

just to see you like he does now.

“no… there isn’t,” you say, whisper, more like, reaching out a hand to trace your thumb over the lid of his closed eye. he doesn’t push you away. instead, he leans in closer.

“then, what’s so funny, kitten?”

you simply shake your head, trying to swallow down your belly-full of laughter, your mind showing you a strobe-quick flash-forward of you trying to explain the concept of foot kinks and websites that cater to such 500 years in the future before deciding — no. alas, tonight is not the night you try to educate one date masamune on the intricacies of body part kinks. though no doubt he’d take it in stride. no — that thought too, you tamp down before you’ve the mind to follow it down into a deep, dark rabbit hole from whence you might never recover or be recovered.

“tell me, please…” he grins, a grin that is simultaneously plea and pleasure, and in it, you can hear the knife-sharp promise of desire, “i’d like to know if something other than me has the power to make you laugh so much.”

“it’s just —” you bite your lips, fighting for the words, “we’re both barefoot.”

he blinks. and you can tell that whatever he was expecting the answer to be, this is clearly not it.

you track the flitter of emotions as they dance in quicksilver steps across the planes of his face — surprise, confusion, amusement, all painted porcelain perfect on the dark of his brows, the faint twitch of his lips. finally, he settles on a sorted of muted bemusement as he cocks his head at you.

“and… do people of your time tend to sleep with socks on?”

“no, it’s just…” you blush again, unable to help yourself.

“just what?” his voice is light, and he is still.

you swallow, hard,

“just… it’s weird — i mean — it’s not like i haven’t seen anyone else barefoot before just… this was — you’re just — and i —” you trip over your words in a hurry and end up tumbling through into incoherence so fast all you can do to styme the flood is to clamp your mouth shut and pray.

oh god please… tell me this is a bad dream.

but when you open your eyes, masamune is still there, watching you with that singular eye of his, expression inscrutable. and still, he doesn’t move.

“so…” and finally, finally, the stillness breaks — he cracks it open like an eggshell, stretching himself out as he leans back, propping himself up on his elbows, lengthening till he’s splayed out over the gleaming wooden boards of the walkway, his face bathed in ghostly moonlight.

“i’m not the first man you’ve seen barefoot, hm? that is a problem.”

your mouth drops open and for a moment, you gape at him wordless and fish-like, and he laughs as he turns to look at you.

“tell me his name — i’ll have his head in the morning,” he says, in a voice so casually serious that for a moment you think he might actually mean it.

“masamune!”

and then, he’s laughing too, a big, bright, uproarious thing that shakes his entire body like the foundations of the earth. it is deep and rich and lovely, warm and sweet as sun-kissed honey. you let yourself be swept up in his laughter, dropping into silent giggles, and then something louder, letting your shoulder bump into his, your bodies finally touching and then —

there’s a flurry of clothing, a shifting of weights. you find yourself pulled into him, tipping towards him like inevitability.

your sketchbook lays forgotten on the walkway next to you as masamune holds you close against his chest.

“ah… i really don’t like that…”

an entourage of tingles frissons through your body at his words.

“don’t like what?”

“the fact that you’ve seen someone else barefoot before. it bugs me.”

you peer up at him, lifting your head ever so slightly from his chest. he’s looking at you, and the sunrise-blue of his eyes are shadowed with something darker now, something decidedly less innocent than just the thought of bare feet.

“then… what will you do about it?” you ask, feeling the heat of his body, the solidness of him, the rightness of you between his arms.

“hm… are you teasing me, kitten?” his voice is gravel and earthquake and you’re emboldened by the sound, by the way his pupil dilates, the black hole at the center of every galaxy — gravity made solid, made real.

“yes,” you breathe, leaning up like a dare and he meets you gloriously, his lips hard and pressing and soft and pulling. there’s a fire unspooling at the base of your spine, stoked by the heat and truth of him, so close, too close — you break apart gasping. he grins, lynx-like and wolfish as he grazes his teeth along the column of your throat.

“good,” he says, sighing into your flesh as you arch up into him, your fingers curling into his hair as he flips the pair of you over. he pulls you beneath him and he is storm and thunder, he is rain and wonder — he is water to your desert skies, the sunlit days to all your moonless nights.

and as he makes to rend you into pleasure, into nothing more than ache and belonging, he pulls back with a bone-deep growl, a sliver of hesitation, of self-preservation.

“are… are you sure you want this?” that you want me? the echo is not lost on you.

and it’s not the first time he’s asked you the question, and you have a feeling that it wouldn’t be the last. but you reply as you had, once upon a time, in a distant, sun-drenched afternoon, when you’d been telling him about one of your favorite poems from your time.

you smile, tug him down for a kiss.

“yes,” you say, like you’d done on that long-ago afternoon, “i want you — i want this, masamune. because… I love you.”

“i will love you when you are a still day… i will love you when you are a hurricane.”

[eventinelysplayground]

Tag List Time

Hey everyone so I've gotten asked in the past about a tag list but at the time I didn't have one and it seemed like a bit too much work at that time tbh. Now I have the time to devote to it and get it organised properly so I'm making some.

If you would like to be tagged on my fics go ahead and comment or msg me and I will put you on the list. Make sure to mention if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific works, for a refresher I do Ikepri, Ikevamp, ikesen and Ikevil. I tend to write more for the first two but I've been playing them longer and I find it easier. I also write SFW NSFW and spicy so you can specify that as well if you like.