#fieryanmitsu

[pseudofaux]

even an injured hand grasps at grace

A lonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnng time ago I did a follower celebration with short fictions and promised a longer story to the winner. That (incredibly patient) winner was @fieryanmitsu, who asked for a story set after Mitsuhide’s Act II. Holidays, family stuff, a global pandemic, more family stuff, a crisis of creative drive, MORE holidays and MORE time later... Here, at last, it is. Anmitsu, thank you so much for participating in that follower celebration, for being so kind about the mortifying amount of time this has taken, and for being a fellow Cat Daddy fangirl. I am very, very grateful for your grace! M, 6000 words, SLBP Mitsuhide. CWs: obvious but unnamed depression, brief discussion of death by weapons. (But mostly it is happy-thinky-poetic wife worship and baby fever.)

Sometimes when she is exhausted she speaks in this silly way. His love for her makes him warm to his toes. Adorable, his wife is adorable. He will never again allow any other duty to shove her out of the place she deserves in the center of his heart.

He will never hold a sword again. The discovery that there is still any strength in the arm once so mighty, enough that he can use it to work: a cause for gratitude and relief. A gift. He can attend to the responsibilities of his new life. He has a new life. Master Tenkai knows better than most men what death looks like when it bears down in a flash of metal. Sword death is the smooth silver of steel, spear death is the sluggish brown of mud that will cradle a dying man, and death by bullet is the black of blood that comes out so thick it is purple before it is red. Weapon deaths are cold, as though to compensate for the heat of their forging. There is a depth of balance in this that he cannot yet name, a mystery of the heavens like the others he spends so much time thinking about and helping the mountain villagers understand.

This new life is mostly keeping up their modest home (half residence, half tiny temple), and sharing knowledge with the villagers and their children. Of course he still thinks of Sakamoto when he sees the children growing... but his entire life he has been too much in his own head, and since they came to the mountain he has gotten better at leaving memories alone. He does not forget, and he hopes this makes him a decent man. Like any decent monk, he allows the thoughts of Sakamoto their due, which is to rest and flow over him as water flows over every side of a fish. It is right that it surrounds him. He could not and cannot do anything for Sakamoto, or address the irreparable harm he caused. He can consider it, meditate on it, and live with what he has done. And he will. Because he can live.

Swordwork’s precision and steadiness are forever gone from him, he believes. But he still has his arm and still has his life, even after he made peace with losing much more before Hideyoshi’s sword came down. He can pet the cats that congregate around the little temple, and he can twirl bits of string and stalks of grass for them. He can still write, his characters more calligraphic than they were before. He has to work hard to make clear strokes when he teaches the village children, and he feels that is a just requirement. When the house needs repairs, he can make them, and he can draw air into his lungs and live with his failures and successes both, or at least live with his failures and the grace he has been given. He has the brush, and he has the strong walking stick that his wife has helped him cut to the right height. The staff is smooth in his hand after only a few months’ use, a little extra oil applied when they have it. He wonders if he is allowed this easy comfort, but will not allow a walking stick to be a thing that trips his thoughts. His watchword now is moderation, not abnegation. If a fallen tree limb comes to him he will be grateful, and if the wood breaks he will let it go. He is willing, now, to let so much go.

There is only one exception, and she sleeps easy these days, when the cold of night on the mountain curls them together as though they are rabbits in a burrow. They wake slowly to this dream life. The part of him that is a decent monk cannot help but wonder how different their lives might be if it had been this for them all along. He did not want to rule; he had only ever wanted to spare others the hardships of ruling, and allow all good people the comfort of safety, from most divine ruler to most helpless child. These thoughts are in his head. Here in their tiny room in the building that is their home and the village’s temple, she is in his arms. In his heart and his bones, he knows that fact is grander than any man’s attempt at divinity.

He never has to force smiles at the children who come to the temple to learn. They are rowdy, eager, and completely charming. He is comfortably grinning at a group of them when he catches sight of her at the bend in the path that leads to their home. She is smiling, too, and there are tall leafy greens sticking out of the pack behind her shoulders that remind him of the folded wings of a fine hawk, the kind favored by samurai and nature alike. What would they do, if not for her hawklike competence and gentle ferocity?

Likely starve, he tells himself, on both melancholy days and happy ones. It is only the truth. He has learned a few things, but cannot match her, and while he is always available to the villagers, he stays near the temple unless he is asked for in the town. She does their shopping, she is their face. No one of quality can resist being won over by the warmth of her smile.

The children are thrilled to see her, and it reminds him of a dream he has had several times now, something he has kept to himself because it is so precious and he still does not want to ask anything of her. He is not sure if the slips of dream come from the peace of their life or the torment they left behind them, whether the dream is reward or recompense. But the cheers of the children take hold of his heart and make a tapestry of the scraps of his happiest dreams, weaving them tightly with what he is truly seeing. His thoughts nearly take him to his knees-- or perhaps that is an insistent little person, tugging at the edge of his sleeve.

“Master Tenkai!” chirps the village child. “Hana is home, so it is time for our lesson!”

They teach the children together in the afternoon’s warm, clean light, and only send them home when it is time for her to prepare their evening meal and him to complete the evening sweeping of the temple floor. Later that night, she seems relaxed and sleepy next to him, full of food, full of love. She asks, “Do you remember when I asked you to bring me a stone, so I could make you pickles?”

That is a pleasant memory from their life before, a luminescent pearl floating through silt that suffocated so much happiness. But the memory itself is light. So his smile is easy and does not feel like punishment, and he nods and strokes the space between her shoulders.

“On this mountain I have all the stones I need,” she declares, pressing her cheek to his chest. The smoothness of her face is finer to him than any pearl, a marvel of sensation that settles him, instantly and completely. “And I will make you pickles every week, if you want them,” she adds.

Sometimes when she is exhausted she speaks in this silly way. His love for her makes him warm to his toes. Adorable, his wife is adorable. He will never again allow any other duty to shove her out of the place she deserves in the center of his heart.

“Only whenever you are inclined,” he says, drumming his fingertips to tickle her.

Her giggle is sleepy. “There’s not time to make them every day,” she quips, snuggling closer and sliding an ankle between his calves. He has only the one dream that is sweeter than his actual life, and he is keeping it close to his chest for now. But he will not keep anything closer to his chest than she is. They squeeze one another, and he expects they do not fully relax their arms until they fall asleep.

A winter has passed, and a spring. This is their first summer on the mountain, so they are learning the cycle of invigorating mornings, sweltering afternoons, and unpredictable nights. They have already learned from kind villagers how to best coax food from the pebbly soil of their garden, and their efforts in the summer are devoted to this every day until the air grows too hot and they retreat to the shade of the temple to fan themselves with their hands and drink water that (they hope) has managed to hold some of the chill of the night before.  

Every morning he braids her hair, and in these summer days a few strands always escape and stick to the back of her neck, temptations that coax him to bare her shoulders and murmur along the skin he worships. She often swats him away, because even after tending the garden there is plenty of work to do. But sometimes she does not swat him away at all, and some days she draws closer with a magnificent, confident need. He cannot determine if it is need for him or need to show him something, but each time, their bodies become hotter still, sweat running like streams and stinging their eyes even as it makes moving together easier.

There is a day at midsummer when they cannot help themselves, resting on the step to their home. They are covered from the relentless sun by the good new roof of the temple. He is vulnerable to melancholy in the heavy air that precedes a storm. She knows this. By the time the thunder and rain seem to be on every side of them, heaven’s own veil around the little holy place where they live, their hands are in each other’s hair, she is straddling him, and he is kissing her so deeply he can taste their midmorning snack. The last time she went to town she came back with karashi seeds, and their food this week has been bright in their mouths, cleansing and flavorful. He is hungry for it.

“Mitsuhide,” she pants quietly. The rain around them is so dense no one would hear her, but that name is never spoken above the softest whisper. Her other sounds are louder, even louder than the roar of the rain, and he loosens his hold on himself to match her. He groans as he tilts his hips up toward hers, everything that he is straining for her. They are so warm that even though the air is cooling around them, the rain may as well be steam. One of her hands slides from his hair to his neck and then down his chest, between their bodies, until she palms his insistence and he gasps for her until she squeezes. They moan together, unbearably hot in the sweet agony before they join.

“Now? Here?” he asks. They’re alone, but he craves her comfort as much as her indulgence. There is always a point where he stops asking, but before that he needs permission. She gives it in a nod and shuffles off his lap onto the floor, still stroking him through his clothing. Her clothes are already loose from their embrace, and she puts her other hand inside her collar and tugs down until she is cupping her breast. His blood in his ears is louder than rain or crashing waves or the war chorus of a hundred desperate men. He lunges at her, one hand in her hair and another at the back of her neck to soften her landing. When he is over her, he snarls at her temple before kissing the space with the beastliness that is revealed by these stormy days. It is a wet kiss, and because his tongue cannot taste enough of her he ends up licking from her cheek to her hairline. He savors her, salt and spice and earth and somehow his, as he pushes into her hand. She does not let go of him. He never wants to let go of her.

His hand slips from her neck into the heaven of her opened collar, and his thumb finds her nipple between her fingers. She lets go, gives herself to him, and he pants adoration into her ear as he rolls the peak, beautifully strong, until she moans. He knows this is right, that nothing else in the world is anything next to the truth of how right it feels to cage her in, make her tremble, and soothe her, serve her.

So he doesn’t hold back. He tells her she is the most wonderful, beautiful, desirable, beloved. His mind makes poetry for her and he licks the words onto skin he pinches delicately between his teeth. You are rainfall to a dying man, you are here, you feel better than breezes, you are mine. After all he has done, he remains a man, and a man is an animal, as any man who has gone to war can say with certainty.

The thin clothes he wears for gardening are sticking to his body, and he swears he can feel the drag of each thread against his skin as he moves with her, friction enough to spark a fire through their sweat. Her hand on him is maddening kindling.

“You are flames,” he declares as he ruts down into her hand. “You are burning me.” A man is an animal, a gasping creature not sophisticated enough to express all she makes him feel.

She slows her hand and hums, pleased by they way he gives himself over. That is the way they play. “It is too wet for flames,” she murmurs, as though she is consoling him instead of throwing tinder on the fire she has made. “Drown in me instead of burning, my love.”

The affection in her words soothes his amorous madness and spreads the familiar, comfortable warmth to all the tips of his body as the power shifts between them again. He loves her so much. Could any man convey so much feeling? To be an animal is not bad, but it is base, and she is made of heaven and still chooses to be with him. He smiles at her in wonder of all her beauty and bravery. He will focus on giving her anything that he can.

“Gladly,” he whispers, smiling wider. He takes her wrist and pulls her away from her work. When she complies and settles her hand against the floor by her head, he unties the rope of faded jute braids that hold her kosode closed at her hips. She is worthy of finery but dressed in these threadbare rags with him instead, and still her eyes say she has what she desires. As he drops the thick cord beside their bodies, he thinks he will try to find her a pretty bead, or even a nice smooth stone from the stream, something to adorn her middle and give her pleasure when she sees it. She gives him so much pleasure.

Their clothes as temple keepers are very humble, but they are much easier to remove than their daily wear of only a year ago. Sacrilegious but sincere, he mutters his gratitude at the simplicity of baring her body to his eyes. Her slopes are gorgeous, winding like the gentlest river against the air. She reminds him of a war map he saw years ago, illustrated with hills and pools so lovely he mourned as war was planned against the unarmed ground.

He shakes away that memory to construct another of the way she looks right now, sensual and receptive, womanly in the way she came to be when they started their lives here. Back in control of herself, of both of them, she parts her lips and breathes his new name. He undoes the scrap of old kimono that serves for his sash, and peels away his own sweaty robe. When he comes back down to her, she has freed her arms from her sleeves and their hands find each other, fingers dancing warm and worn as they wrap together.

Now it is still raining, but the roar of it has quieted to a loving hiss. The light is gray and blue, so she looks like nighttime. She pulls him to her with the power of dusk closing flowers, and their kiss is moon-soft, full of promise instead of frenzy. Her lip is a marvel between his and he loves pressing it with his own lips and teeth and sucking gently to make it swell. He wants to touch it with his thumb while he’s inside her and then kiss her again, maybe kiss her while he touches her with his thumb.

The chill at his back cannot last when there is so much heat between them, no matter what she says of drowning instead of burning. A man can drown in the bubbles of a hot spring as well as he can in winter’s water. He sucks in a breath and breathes it out into her mouth, and when she does the same with more force he shudders. His hands slide to her hips, where her curves fit into his palms as though he were a farmer and she were a ripe stalk of rice. She is at least as crucial and nourishing.

He is so hard he doesn’t need to take himself in hand. The head of his cock slides (with a sureness he would never claim aloud) between her folds, against the spot that makes her thighs flex. The movement is easy, a slip if not for his control. They are always so eager for one another.

“How?” he asks, and kisses the chin she is offering as her head is thrown back. “Here? This? Just outside the reach of the rain?” A demon is in him, to tease her like this, but the demon wants her pleasure as surely as he does because this is what she wants, for everything to be drawn out until their tension snaps. “Do you want the air on all your skin?” he continues. “I will give you anything. Just tell me.”

She hums the thoughtful sound that means she’s thought of some way to drive him insane. Thunder cracks with an ominous sharpness in the distance, and when she tilts her head and looks at him there is lightning and mischief in her eyes. He squeezes her but still she wriggles out from beneath him... and she goes to one of the beams that holds up the roof, safe from the rain thanks to the overhang. She moves her feet back and bends at her waist and he can do nothing but feel blessed and aroused, so aroused he is stupid. The warmth she put in him turns to tingles, like she has displaced the lightning from her gaze and made his skin the sky and his bones the bare, vulnerable earth. Within himself he feels a frighteningly intense buzzing.

“This first,” she declares. “Just watch for now, darling. Stay where you are.” Her thighs and calves are so defined from the ways she has to toil in this new life that he feels a shadow of guilt for enjoying the sight of her so much. It vanishes when he sees her fingertips between her legs, right at his eye level. She is pulling his mind apart, but her method for that is giving him this gift, and in this life he takes what he is given.

“Yes,” he rasps, and swallows before the dryness in his though makes him cough. “Yes, of course.”

The movement of her arm slides her loosened braid along a shoulder like a brushstroke. Her touches are sure-- she told him months ago that she learned to do this when he made her sleep alone for nights on end. He curses his foolishness even as he is grateful for it. She is always turning the most miserable ingredients into feasts, his wife.

Her sure fingers make circles and dip into her folds to smear her arousal. She likes it a little messy sometimes, another thing she has revealed in the safety of their seclusion. He loves what she loves, and he wants to put his mouth on her, put his cock in her, so badly that he fears his voice will scar his throat in a mad escape if he has to stay apart from her much longer. But he will die of idiocy alone if he interrupts. So he watches, the cool air of isolation doing nothing to keep his belly from tightening when she coos. Her hips begin to drop forward to meet her hand and he bites the flesh of his palm to stave off insanity as long as he may. She is a cat, he realizes, playing with all his many frayed ends. When she glances back, whatever she sees on his face-- he must be flushed, he feels terribly hot-- makes her laugh, dark and sweet. She keeps going and keeps her eyes on him. There is that gentle command so uniquely her in the way she looks at him. It makes him feel like he is blooming frantically, too fast, a blossom pummeled by rain and completely out of control... and she keeps looking, keeps smiling, draws the moment into moments until he thinks he might sob.

And then she curls her fingers against herself to beckon him and says “Come here.” The way her voice puts the words somewhere between request and demand is flattering, but he has no time to be flattered. Rain-cooled air yields against his arms and legs as he rushes to her. Immediately, he is there behind her legs, positioning himself, and the heat of her backside would burn him were he not already so ruined. Against her at last, he can appreciate the way the weak light on her sweat-slicked back is more beautiful than the finest inkwash, the ways she smells competent and domestic and alluring, like the precious sweet scent of soil that hides between mountain pebbles. She is all these things, and she is so calm as his mind whirls in its delirium of adoration and arousal.

He doesn’t mean to tremble, but his hold on himself has been too tight, and the spaces where his teeth dug into his hand throb. Like the mongrel pet to a noble lady, he has little other purpose but to love her. He sees that she can sense it. There is a grace to her certainty when he grits his teeth, even though she is wound so tightly that when the head of his cock finally presses inside her, he must push. Slick, soft, smooth, she feels, somehow, despite the pressure. As he pushes fully inside, their groans are wanton to the point of inhumanity, more like the sound of creatures in the night than of a man and his wife. His wife, his wife. He pulls back and groans again at the way her body fights to keep him. He swipes the braid off her back and kisses her shoulder, pushing back in slowly as her soft, strong body welcomes him.

“More,” she cries, her first sound of vulnerability, and he is eager to take care of her. He knows to move steady and powerfully but keep it slow at first. She comes better around him, but needs to be allowed to focus, so he is quiet as he focuses on her and the way the muscles of his back stretch and roll to please her. He is still a fit man, and he hopes his body thrills her as hers thrills him.

She makes a needy noise between her teeth and moves faster, shaking just a little. She hisses “keep going,” and of course he does. The tension he felt a moment ago is so unimportant now he is not sure if it was real. In the time when things shift between them he no longer needs permission, and he feels the magic calm settling over him-- it is his turn. All he needs to do is what she needs from him, it’s so simple. And he would do anything she asked, for the chance to be so near her when she finds bliss. It is already rising up his legs, like a snake squeezing and sliding, like ripples... and her sighs are like waves. Maybe she is too wet to be flames because she is water itself. The way into her is blissful enough, a slick heavy pressure around him where she is swollen from all their kisses and touching. The challenge of it makes him grin with a ferality he usually keeps well out of sight, and he presses on, pulls back, kisses her shoulder again and calls her his beloved. His voice doesn’t shake.

Hers does. “Again,” she pleads, grasping back for his hand. “I want it again.” She guides his fingers in circles until he knows where she is and what she needs, and then she lets him give it to her. Trust is such a sacred thing.

When he touches her she laughs, and he laughs too, and fucks her with a great deal of joy. They find their pattern: her hips push back to meet his thrusts, so when he presses in, deeply, they fit as cleanly as a carpenter’s masterwork. The storm has truly cooled the air but all it does is chill the fresh sweat on their skin as they move. It invigorates him, makes his spirit shout with a freedom he cannot contemplate at the time. His wife is using the beam that holds up their roof to push back against him, allowing the tender space between her breasts to be abraded by the wood. There is room for nothing but happiness here, nothing to do but honor her sacrifice and make her feel more pleasure.

“Yes,” she rewards him with her voice for a particular thrust, dragging out the sound at a pitch that registers inside him while he is inside her. So he moves himself even faster to try and repeat it, then relishes the sweetness of her soft whine. It makes him feel like he is surprising her with his love for once, instead of the constant way she graces him with her own.

He leans over her a little more. “I want nothing as much as I want your happiness,” he tells her, the croon of his voice broken by the intense way their bodies are connecting. Her hand comes back over his, keeping him in place. Magnificent. “Go on,” he tells her. “Again, love. Just like you want. Just like I want. Again.”

She shudders and stops moving her hips (she clings adorably to the support beam, her arm as tense as her hand on his). He keeps going, because he knows that is what she expects. At the end, what she needs is to be filled, to be given something to clench around, and he needs to be that for her. He is so driven, from inside and out, to fuck her, that he cannot do anything else until he feels it, not think or breathe, only move into her as though he can shove bliss into her body. So he tries, until he feels the shaking of her legs as perfection alights, and then he takes one great breath before it hits them both as she squeezes tighter still. They gasp together again as her clenching and soft sounds pull his warmth to fill her. Abundantly. Deeply. The air comes out of his lungs onto her shoulders, then touches his cheeks with the softness of a cloud.

She is breathing heavily, and slowly she puts her weight against the wood and becomes still. There’s a gentle press against his hand before she drops her arm. He’s tempted to catch it and kiss her knuckles, but he does not want to move from being curled around her back. He does move his hand away and puts the arm around her belly instead, holding her that much closer. She feels exactly as warm and soft as a cat who has fallen asleep in the sun.

There is a slick, sticky feeling all around his cock, but there’s nothing unpleasant about it-- something in him actually relishes it, loves the thought of mixing, loves the thought of there being too much, it makes him want to take her to the floor and have her again-- and she does not ask him to move, so he stays until he softens. “Darling,” he whispers then. “I’m going to get us a cloth.” He has desires, but he has mastered himself.

But she mumbles “No. Hold me.”

So when he pulls out as not to slip from her, he simply sits down and pulls her with him, right down into his messy lap. There’s not a breath between the time they land and her turning so she can snuggle his chest. He strokes her hair and kisses her cheeks and nose and tells her what a marvel she is. She is all pliant affection, touching his arms, kissing his jaw, raising a love welt on his shoulder... reaching to stroke him gently, experimentally, just like she did when they were on the steps.

He has mastered himself, but not as well or fully as she has.

He pulls over their clothes and lays her out on top of them on the temple floor so he can join their bodies yet again, unhurried. They have the time for slow lovemaking in this life, and the grace. Her knees frame him as he moves and he cannot help but kiss one and then the other, reveling in her laughter (when he tickles her ribs, she tightens deliciously around him) as much as in her love. They lay together for a long time after that, cool and lazy in the quiet. When the rain is replaced by the first note of tentative birdsong, they know they should move in case someone comes to the temple. Despite the afternoon, they are a cautious couple by nature.

He attempts to clean her with their clothes, and carries her to their room to rest more comfortably. Her hair clings to the idea of a braid, but much of it is loose and floats about his arms in the sodden air. There is a satisfied tilt to her mouth when he helps her sit, and as he moves behind her the last he sees of her face is her smile curving deeper. He settles his robe over her shoulders and combs his fingers through her hair to ward off tangles. When he is finished, he replaits her hair and kisses the ribbon, then her mouth. She shakes her head, hiding her mouth and making him chase it. His rewards are sleepy giggles, enchantingly low, every time he catches her.

Several kisses later, he redresses and leaves for the kitchen to make them a simple meal. He delights in feeding her by hand as soon as he returns, because their closeness makes him feel whole and doting on her feels right. They stay near as they bathe, and then they go back to bed. It is early, but they will need to start early tomorrow to make up for the time they spent not working this afternoon. They have earned their sleep. He wonders if he will have the dream again.

Tucked into their bedding, she is in his arms, not yet dreaming herself. “Darling,” he says quietly into her hair, and murmurs love until she turns to kiss him sweetly and tells him to go to sleep.

He does have the dream. It is the most wonderful dream yet.

“Chichi-ue!” The voice is high and happy. It is coming from behind him, so he must turn away from the sight of his wife with a baby at her breast. Before he can see the little one who called him-- called him chichi-ue, his child-- the dream shifts and his wife is with an older child, tasting broth and listening patiently as the child recites ingredients. Then his wife is with two children, each holding one of her hands as they turn on the bend of the path to their home, and the smallest lets go of her to run to him. Their faces are all obscured by a sudden cloud of mountain dandelion seeds borne on the wind... all he can see are healthy little legs and feet in clean sandals, slapping against the ground as fast as they possibly can. The movement becomes a child’s hand with a brush, marvelously steady and precise. The same hand around a cluster of flower stems. Scraped knees and palms and little puffs of breath between shrieks and giggles as tears are soothed away. Two voices laughing over the plunking sound of skipped river stones ending their flights, and he recognizes the stream where they stand. The face and voice of the herbalist in the village, kindly telling them to be patient and then whispering something they might try. Four simple bowls, mismatched but meant to be together, set around a table. He can see this scene over his own shoulder, hears those same two voices dutifully expressing gratitude for their meal. The sounds change as his dream gives him the voices at different pitches through time, thankful for their rice, fish, vegetables; the bowls stay on the table, the food in them changing in dizzying whirls of color until he wakes.

“Good morning,” says his wife, in the voice she can only use for the first words of the day. Quiet and deep as a hidden pool. “I love you.”

He reaches to stroke her cheek, and tells her about the dream at last. She tells him her dreams, too.

Exhausted but awake, awed and unsure, he holds his son for the first time in the crook of his better arm. All of him shakes, because he is weeping at the perfect newness of this child. The baby, so unhappy with the village woman who came to help with the birth, settles into his father like poetry, and closes sweet dark eyes, and yawns flawlessly. They way the baby’s tongue trembles reminds him of a stretching cat. Master Tenkai of the mountain cannot look away. There is so much to see, and there is something about gazing at this tiny face, shifting magically from pinched to peaceful, that shows him the virtue of disregarding time completely. He should know it for what it is: another effort by man to control what he cannot. Everything that marks time in a human way can be broken. The sun rises no matter what people do in the night.

One of the temple cats senses a fellow creature and leans up to sniff at the baby. The baby’s father is happy to share the sight. The cat noses at the baby’s plumpness and then slinks off, but Tenkai stays where he sits, holding his son beside the bedding where the baby’s mother is gazing at them both with a tired, happy expression on her beautiful face. Her hair has all come loose from its ribbon. The woman from the village said it was an easy birth, but it certainly took its time. At the end, they have their perfect son, and she is alright. Everything is alright. The greatest challenge facing them at the moment is that he will have to learn to braid one-handed. He chuckles to himself and the baby blinks, then settles.

He will never hold a sword again. Whatever time may be, it feels like he made his peace with a more important truth a very long time ago, perhaps in another life entirely, and had only to relearn it. To hold his woman, and child, and the other he believes will join then... that is more than enough for the warrior who was once Mitsuhide, who became Master Tenkai of the mountain. All else may come and go. He will treat everything with respect, and allow all that is temporary to leave his hand like water. His family, permanent and indescribably precious, is the only thing that he will never, ever give up.

#slbp mitsuhide #slbp fanfic #slbp fanfiction #samurai love ballad party #fieryanmitsu

[otonymous]

I have been meaning to congratulate you on the launch of your Patreon for the LONGEST TIME!!! But, I am a slowpoke and apparently time has no meaning for me, because I constantly lose track of it... so here we are a month (or has it been two?!) later!! Still, I just needed to scream my congratulations for you at the top of my lungs!! CONGRATS YOU LOVELY, AMAZING AUTHOR!! 😍

As someone who has followed your blog since the beginning, it is SO SO awesome and inspiring to see you reach this next level of your dream!! I seriously cannot wait to see where you will go from here and am so excited for you! 💕

Even though I haven't been keeping up with your work recently since our fandoms don't always overlap, I absolutely ADORE seeing your posts on my dash regardless and just interacting with you in general!! Your positivity and passion honestly just make my day!

Though... 👀 I see that you're rolling up your sleeves for the upcoming Tears of Themis, which I am also 1000% looking forward to as well! I hope that we'll both love it, and that it'll give me more excuse to read your wonderful stories!!

For now, sending you all my love and looking forward to seeing where your path will take you next as both an Otonymous fangirl and also... definitely as a patron!! 😉

@fieryanmitsu!!!!!! 💖💖💖

This was literally me when I read your Ask.  No joke, not even lying.

Thank you soooo much for your lovely words.  I am left quite speechless by how incredibly kind you are.  And I have to say that if it hadn’t been for you and your encouragement at the very start of my writing journey, I likely wouldn’t even be here today.  I remember your comments on AO3 reacting to some of the first fics I ever wrote and they still warm my heart to this very day.  It is beyond my wildest dreams to have your support as a patron on Patreon too (I am seriously trying hard not to cry rn LOL).

I am so thrilled to hear that you’re also looking forward to Tears of Themis!  May our otome paths cross again with this game, my friend!! 💯🙌🏼😂

Once again, thank you for your constant support.  Your passion and positivity are always uplifting and awe-inspiring, and I will forever be thankful for SLBP’s Mitsuhide for bringing us together 🥰💖

Sending you all the love in the world 💕💕💕

- XOXO, Otonymous

#still crying #all happy tears ofc #LOLOL #thank you so much again #q&a #fieryanmitsu #super awesome person #patreon #slbp mitsuhide #slbp #tears of themis #otome

[topibeeru]

Sorry for the sudden drop-in, but I just wanted to say that I’m the type to queue up fanart reblogs so my reblogs/comments/tags won’t show up for a while. But since that will take a while, I just wanted to tell you right away that I am in love with your art and all of your Arthur and Arthur x Frey fanart is giving me life!!! I love those two so much and I was just squealing and dying as I went down your blog! Thank you for blessing my eyes!! 😭😭😭

AAAAAAAAAAAA NOOO I SHOULD BE THE ONE TO THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭💖💓💖💓💖💓💓💕💕💖💓💖💓💖 Arthur and Frey is very near and dear to my heart and it makes me really happy that you love them as well! tbh I haven’t been able to draw much lately because of artblock.. but your support gives me the strength to continue drawing more Arthur x Frey in the future!! I hope you’ll look forward to it hehe 💕 thank you so much!!

#thank you so much for your kind message 😭😭💖💖 #you made my day ;u; 💕💕 I’m really really happy #fieryanmitsu

[athela-3]

Been seeing your A3! ask meme around and it’s so cute!! Thanks for making that!! Would love to see your answers for: 🎮🌻🍰💪!!

Hello there! Thanks for the ask, and I'm glad you like the thing! 😁

🎮 Name the last game you played (besides A3!, if applicable).

I think I managed like half an hour of Assassin's Creed Origins somewhere in the past few days? Been too busy for much gaming, but still hoping for an SSR Revival Token, heh, so A3! is my prioritised game at the moment.

🌻 What's your favourite TV show?

Ah. Unfortunately, I am not a TV person. The only thing I've consistently made a point of watching is MotoGP, so I guess that's it. It's not a show, exactly, but I've been watching since 2006, so 🤷🏻

🍰 Name one thing you like that people don't expect you to like.

Well, my interests tend to be only tenuously related to each other, so it's a bit hard to tell what the baseline would be. Hm. Oh, probably A3! itself, actually! It's quite the outlier.

💪🏼 Of the entire A3! cast, who do you think you'd be friends with in real life?

I kinda wanna say Tsumugi, who's about my age, also a teacher (well, tutor), and seems the type of person I often find myself friends with. That being said, I can imagine getting along quite well with the earnest types like Juza and Sakuya, or conversely my fellow linguistically... flexible folks, Citron and Homare.

#a3! #ari speaks #fieryanmitsu

[animaniachan]

thank you @fieryanmitsu for the tag!

the task was to describe yourself with photos you already have. you can’t download or search for new ones.

—so basically my life consists of gachas breaking my heart, not getting enough sleep, procrastination, and f o o d 💖💜

lots and lots of food—especially sushi 🍣🍣 the macarons are just there bc it’s a large part of my hobby (psst I made those in the pic) bc I actually bake competitively~~ (yes, that’s a thing lol)

tagging: @currywaifu @derireo @moonsumi @hirugamis and anyone else who wants to do this, please feel free!

#yona convos #about yona #fieryanmitsu #tagged #a3!

[uwua3]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you’re supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out. We are all beautiful 💖💖💖 wonderful bean❤🌻

🥺🥺🥺 ANMITSU!!! i tried sending this back but i think i sent too many asks yesterday hhh TT please know you’re sooo beautiful and i just think you’re so #Cool ✨✨✨ i feel like i look up to you the way a kid sees their older sibling,,, like you’re just the Best and i appreciate you so much 🥺🥰 i hope to be half the ~ adult ~ you are one day! thank you so much for this~ love you! ♡

Bunnie 💗🐰

#bunnie loves her friends! #fieryanmitsu #bunnie loves content creators!

[mankai-onlyfans]

// ahh thank you so much!! ;U; I really did have a lot of fun with it, and I'm glad you guys did too haha

everyone be sure to stay hydrated, self care, and stay indoors! ♡

#//ooc post #fieryanmitsu #<method acting> #// honestly you guys are half of what makes the blog what it is!! so give urselves kudos too #// it's a two way street of uwus and shitposting and love here ♡♡♡

[aeshiinou]

Freeze! You're under arrest for being so lovely. Copy this message to 10 other blogs that you think are beautiful and deserve it. Keep the game going and make others feel beautiful!!! 💖✨

ANMITSU I- I LOVE YOU SO MUCCHHHHH SHSJSJJDJDJ YOU’RE TOO SWEET I DONT DESERVE THIS DJJEISKDK

n-nids,,,,you sent me twice,,,IM NOT COMPLAINING THO HSJAKSJDJDJDJ I LOVE U NIDS JSJSJJD YOU’RE SUCH A SWEETHEART 🥺💕💞💞💕💕💞💞

@juzaa

#jae answers #juzaa #fieryanmitsu

[ri-translates]

I just wanted to say THANK YOU for all of these Itaru backstage story translations!! They were such a blast to read, especially the “Gamer in NY” story - that ItaIzu is giving me LIFE!! Thanks again for taking the time to write up these translations and sharing them! 😍

Ahh thank you so much for reading them!! 😭💕 I’m glad you enjoyed the stories! A FELLOW ITAIZU CONNOISSEUR...Itaru can be so smooth at times, it makes me rage in tsun 😤😤😤

My next planned tl will have lots of cute moments so please look forward to that! And thank you for follow! I hope you have a wonderful day!! 💕💕💕

#ri speaks #fieryanmitsu #thank you so much for this message it made my day aaa ;;;; #not a tl

[primeministerofantarctica]

Just wanted to send in 🎮 and 🥂 if you’re still doing the A3! asks!!

🎮 Name the last game you played (besides A3!, if applicable).

coolmathgames bubble popper i only play a3

🥂 Are you a morning person, a night owl, or something else?

absolutely night owl

thanks for the ask! <3

#ask #fieryanmitsu

[derireo]

💜✨This is an Amazing Content Creator Award! Your creations are incredible and they light up every dashboard they land on. Pass this on to eight of your favorite creators to show your appreciation and let them know their art is loved! ✨💜 ((Received this from a lovely anon, and just wanted to pass on the love!!))

Wow, thank you Anmitsu! 🥺💖 After spending a lot of time doing bare minimum editing rather than writing, this made me feel a lot better after struggling for so long, lol;; This was really sweet of you to send, haha! I can't do much other than give you a lot more of my love! <333

#ask #answer #fieryanmitsu #rou talks #uwu go boom

[otonymous]

I LOVE ASK GAMES!! Sending you “rose” and “sun”!! And since you asked, sharing my answers too~ my favourite flowers are lilacs, cherry/plum/apple blossoms and daisies (I’m a fan of all tree flowers actually)! My favourite season is Autumn and Spring (but only after the snow melts and it’s not gross and muddy anymore HAHA) 😊

So sorry my response is coming late, dear @fieryanmitsu!!! (Tumblr issues 😒) 😭💕 

Rose: favourite flower?

Oooh!  I love lilacs and cherry/plum/apple blossoms too!  I can never stop myself from smelling every lilac that I pass (sorry to all my neighbours if you see a stranger coming up and sniffing every bloom LOLOL)!  As for myself, I love peonies and am also a giant fan of tulips!

Sun: favourite season?

I totally agree; Spring is wonderful the moment the muddiness disappears LOL!  I am also a big fan of summer just because it signifies beaches, BBQs and extra long days of freedom (from school, at least 😂)!

Thank you so much for sending in this Ask, my friend! - XOXO

#q&a #fieryanmitsu #get to know me #get to know you #gif with purchase

[ary-se]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you’re supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you’re beautiful inside and out. We are all beautiful 💖💖💖 wonderful bean❤🌻

MITSU OMG ILY TYSM I'M... 🥺🥺🥺 U HAVE MY UWUS FOR LIKE THE 2873833RD TIME

#fieryanmitsu

[slbp-secret-cupid]

Aphrodisiacs (Nobuyuki/MC, 18+)

Happy Valentine’s Day, @meruchan!! I am your Secret Cupid~ I’m here to deliver you some Nobuyuki love~ I know you were hoping for something M-rated/smutty, so I tried my best to insert a couple of steamy scenes, haha! I’ve never actually written smut before, so hopefully this turned out okay!

Also, it’s been a looong time since I’ve written something, so I’m sure everything’s all over the place! Since I’m just trying to get back into the swing of writing again, any comments would be appreciated! :) Enjoy!

APHRODISIACS

PAIRING: Sanada Nobuyuki/MC

RATING: 18+ (contains some smutty descriptions and adult/sexual topics)

~*~*~*~

“WHAT?!” Umeko exclaimed. “You’ve been dating for over a month and you STILL haven’t done it?! How is that even possible?!”

“Now, now, Umeko! Maybe he’s just being a gentleman…?” Matsuko interjected as she gestured for Umeko to calm down.

I could only cringe at Umeko’s outburst – not that I blamed her for her reaction, since I was starting to get concerned myself. It was already a shock to me that I was even dating THE Nobuyuki Sanada! He was the heir to an illustrious family business and I was but an apprentice cook at a small, though well-known, Japanese restaurant. He frequented the restaurant often as a customer, and, somehow, we had hit it off and eventually started dating almost two months ago.

“Yeah, he’s been nothing but a gentleman, in fact,” I responded with a sigh. “Maybe it’s because he knows I’m a virgin and doesn’t want to rush me… But, to be honest, I want him to try something with me!”

“Have you tried telling him that?” Umeko asked. “Sometimes you just have to get straight to the point!”

“Well… I’ve been too embarrassed to say anything. This is my first real relationship, and I don’t want to come off weird, you know,” I replied, feeling my face heat up with a blush. Really, I was mostly embarrassed at the amount of time I spent fantasizing about him in inappropriate ways. He really didn’t need to know that.

“Hmmmm, yeah, you don’t want to look too desperate either, I guess,” Matsuko added with a nod.

We all fell silent as we pondered my dilemma. After a few seconds, I opened my mouth to tell them to not worry about it, but was interrupted by Umeko snapping her fingers with a gasp.

“I’ve got it! I just remembered this article I read in a magazine!! I still have it in my purse – hold on!”

Umeko scrambled off my couch and dashed over to her purse, nearly colliding with the wall in her excitement. Moments later, she pulled out a popular tabloid I’d often seen at the checkouts at the grocery store and dropped it into my lap.

“Here, I’ll lend it to you. There was an article in there about natural aphrodisiacs and it lists a bunch of food that apparently makes you super horny! Why don’t you try cooking him up a dinner with some of those aphrodisiacs and get him in the mood! You know, seduce him!!Maybe that will jump start him to, well, jump you!”

“Oooh, seduction might not be a bad idea! Nowadays it’s totally normal for the girl to make the first move, you know!” Matsuko chimed in, having seemingly forgotten her previous comment about not looking desperate.

“Seriously?!” I exclaimed. It’s not that I hadn’t heard of aphrodisiacs, but I just didn’t think they were actually real. Besides that, me seduce him?! I already felt way out of my league!! He was always so calm and collected, I couldn’t even imagine him falling for any kind of seductions!

“Well, just read it first and decide! You never know!” Umeko giggled.

All I could do was sigh and reluctantly accept the magazine. Once I’d promised to give the article a read, our conversation moved on to other topics and it wasn’t long before our girls’ night ended and Umeko and Matsuko went home.

Alone now in my apartment, I settled down on my couch and started to flip through the magazine. It was aimed primarily at women and contained various articles on skin care, fashion, diets and of course… love advice. I blushed as I landed on an article about the newest sex toys. Though I’d heard about them from my friends, I’d always been too shy to buy one myself. I couldn’t help but skim the article out of curiosity. It was a review on a new product that was aimed at virgins – apparently it was designed to help ‘train’ women who were nervous about having sex for the first time.

I could feel a blush spread across my cheeks and the skin on the back of my neck prickled. I ignored the warm feeling that spread through my abdomen and quickly flipped to the next page.

“Here it is… ‘In this edition of ‘The Lover’s Guide’, we’ll introduce you to thirty natural aphrodisiacs to spice up your love life!’” I read out loud to myself, cringing at how corny it sounded.

However, despite my doubts, I started reading the article, mostly fueled by my own desperation. The article listed out various food products that would, apparently, increase one’s sex drive while explaining the ‘science’ behind it. Oysters apparently contained zinc, which is supposed to boost the male sex drive, and amino acids, which can trigger increased levels of sex hormones. Chocolate contains 'feel-good’ chemicals phenylethylamine and serotonin. Certain spices acted as sexual stimulants. The list went on and on.

As I read more of the article, I soon found myself forgetting my skepticism as the culinary side of my brain automatically started piecing together a menu using these ‘aphrodisiacs’. Soon, I was already making a mental grocery list and thinking of how I could plate and present each course…

~*~*~*~

I had just placed the plate of dessert into my fridge when I heard the doorbell ring.

“Coming!” I called as I stripped off my apron and hung it up on its hook. When I opened the door, I came face-to-face with the handsome, smiling face of my boyfriend.

“Good evening,” Nobuyuki greeted before leaning down to kiss me chastely on the cheek. Leaning back, he gently handed me a bouquet of vibrant red roses. “For you. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“They’re beautiful! Thank you!” I exclaimed, cradling the bouquet gently as I stepped aside to let him inside.

“I also brought a bottle of champagne,” Nobuyuki added as he shut the door behind him. He slipped off his shoes and placed his work bag on the floor. I couldn’t stop myself from admiring his broad shoulders through his perfectly-tailored shirt as they shrugged off his coat.

“Is something wrong?”

I was suddenly snapped out of my ogling by Nobuyuki’s voice and I realized that I hadn’t moved since he’d come in.

“Sorry, I was just distracted! Are you hungry?” I asked, turning my back to him to hide the guilty flush on my face. Trying to distract myself, I walked into my kitchen, intending to look for a vase for the flowers.

However, a moment later, I squeaked as I suddenly felt Nobuyuki wrap his arms around me from behind.

“I’m famished,” he breathed into my ear. I shuddered as I felt his breath on the back of my neck. All too quickly, though, he let me go with a chuckle and made his way over to the dining table.

“Gr-great!” I stammered. This man was not good for my heart!! “Because I prepared a lot of food!”

Taking a deep breath, I opened my fridge and prepared myself for… the worst? The best? I honestly wasn’t sure what to expect, but, well…. here went nothing.

I reached into my fridge, pulled out a bowl and set it on the table. It contained raw oysters laid out on a bed of ice chips.

“Oysters?” Nobuyuki breathed, his slender eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Yes, they were on sale! So, I thought it might be nice to indulge!” I quipped, sitting down across from him and setting down a plate of lemon wedges and a couple of small serving plates. “Umm, you don’t dislike oysters, do you?”

I raised my eyes to study his face nervously, but he simply smiled back at me gently, his head tilting slightly to one side with the gesture.

“Not at all. I just wasn’t… expecting it. I’m happy to eat anything you make for me.”

“Well, that’s a relief! Help yourself then!”

I knew that any effects from the food wouldn’t be instantaneously, but I found myself holding my breath anyway as I watched Nobuyuki reach for an oyster. He squeezed a few drops of lemon juice on it before delicately raising it to his mouth. My mind automatically flickered back to the magazine article I had read earlier last week. Not only were oysters full of zinc and amino acids for boosting the sex drive, it was said that oysters were also sexually appealing because of the sensual way that they were eaten.

That article couldn’t have been more right. It was as if my brain was running in slow-motion. My eyes fixated on Nobuyuki’s mouth as he tipped the oyster into his mouth. I was acutely aware of every movement of his lips as the oyster moved past his lips and I could feel a hot coiling feeling ignite in my stomach as he made a slurping sound. My mouth went dry as he made an appreciative sound – moan, it was a moan, my brain screamed – and licked his lips.

God, those lips… I couldn’t even count the amount of times he’d kissed me breathless with those lips. He was an amazing kisser, and I couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel if those skillful lips kissed the rest of my body. Especially between my thighs.

Before I knew it, my brain flashed to an image of Nobuyuki’s head between my legs. He would moan, as he had just now, as his tongue languidly licked along my folds. I could hear wet, slurping sounds as his lips sucked at my pussy, drinking up the juices flowing out. I had never felt so wet before, and I couldn’t tell whether the wetness came from myself or was simply his saliva. Then, suddenly, I gasped as he teased a finger between my wet lower lips, pushing in as he continued his ministrations with his mouth.  The sensation made me groan and I could feel another gush of hot liquid flow out as he reached in deeper with his finger. I couldn’t help pressing myself against his face, pushing him in deeper—

“You’re not eating?”

“S-sorry! I was just waiting for you to try the first one!” I yelped, my mind slamming back to reality at his question.

I couldn’t believe that I had just did that!! I mentally slapped myself for suddenly drifting off to fantasyland and reached for an oyster myself. Instead, I forced myself to make small talk to distract my brain, and soon we had finished the oysters, along with some of the champagne. I then pulled out the next course from the oven.

“Baked salmon with asparagus,” I said, placing Nobuyuki’s plate before him.

According to the article, salmon contained omega 3s which are linked to serotonin boosting your happiness and mood. Meanwhile, asparagus is rich in vitamin B6 and folate, which are said to increase arousal and orgasm. Not to mention their suggestive shape…

“Oh, I also tried making it spicy – since I know you like your food on the flavourful side,” I added. Chili peppers apparently stimulated the release of endorphins and generated physiological responses in the body similar to those experienced during arousal, like sweating and increased heartrate.

“Ah, that definitely has quite a kick to it,” Nobuyuki commented as he finished several bites of his salmon. “I’m certainly feeling the heat, now, haha.”

He put down his fork and knife and loosened the collar of his dress shirt, undoing the first couple of buttons. My eyes automatically followed the sudden motion of his hands and followed the ‘v’ of his slightly open shirt. I could see a light sheen of sweat along his neck, which was slightly flushed. My gaze moved up to his face, staring at his parted lips as he fanned himself lightly with his hand. The look on his face instantly sent another shot of heat down to my privates and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.

I couldn’t help but wonder if this would be the expression he’d make in bed. Perhaps he’d look like that, covered in a light layer of sweat, with locks of his soft hair sticking to his skin and lips parted in pants as my hand moved along his shaft. I imagined him groaning my name as I stroked him up and down, keeping my grip at just the right pressure for his abdomen to tense underneath me. Just when beads of pre-cum start dripping out, I dipped my head down to cover his tip with my mouth. I flick my tongue over his head, lapping up the beads of liquid, relishing in the gasp that escapes his mouth. Then, I slipped my grip lower as I took in more of him into my mouth—

Oh my GOD, STOOOOOP!!! I screamed at my mind, shaking my head as I quickly went back to my meal, attacking my salmon with a vengeance.

I thanked the magazine article for giving me the idea to use chili, as the heat from the food gave me an excuse to hide the blush on my face. I felt my face get even warmer as I realized that I could feel a slight wetness between my legs. How was it possible that I was this turned on?! Maybe there was something to this aphrodisiac business…

Though I was feeling heated, when I glanced over at Nobuyuki, he looked completely calm, the heat from the chili seasoning long gone. He had finished eating his portion already and was casually sipping at his champagne while watching me with hooded eyes and a light smile. It was a familiar expression on him, and I often caught him looking at me this way, though I never could figure out what he was thinking. One thing was for certain, though: this look always gave me butterflies.

“Do you still have room for dessert?” I asked, trying to distract myself from drowning in that smoldering gaze.

“Certainly. What’s on the menu?”

“Well, since it’s Valentine’s Day, I really wanted to do something with chocolate! And I saw this fondue set on sale at the department store the other day, so – chocolate fondue!” I responded as I cleared the dining table of our dinner plates.

I then quickly put together the fondue set and started melting the dark chocolate I had bought. I then pulled out the plate of fresh fruit that I had painstakingly prepared. The article had cited chocolate as an aphrodisiac, which made it a convenient fit for our Valentine’s dinner. I had also relied on the article to pick out many of the fruits on the platter. Those fruits apparently contained certain vitamins and minerals that were supposed to elevate energy levels and promote positive moods – which would lead to being in the mood.

“Ah, the fruits look delicious,” Nobuyuki commented, already swiping up a strawberry and popping it into his mouth.

I smiled at his boyish behaviour. He was always so put together, but, when it came to dessert, he always let his guard down just a little bit. I would have never expected him to have such a sweet tooth – and he was especially partial to fruits.

“Strawberries, bananas, cherries, mangos, pineapples… and what’s this?” Nobuyuki asked, pointing at the small round balls sitting with the fruit on the platter.

“Oh, they’re cinnamon doughnut bites. I thought it might be nice to toss in a different texture.” I responded. The real reason, though, was that cinnamon had also been listed in the article as an aphrodisiac. Apparently, the spice produced heat within the body and facilitated sexual arousal.

“Doughnuts, hmmm? Yukimura would be jealous – he loves doughnuts.”

“Oh, I made a lot – you can take some leftovers for him, if you want.”

“Thank you, I think I will. It’ll be a nice repayment since I borrowed something from him earlier this week.”

As soon as the chocolate was melted and ready, Nobuyuki immediately picked up one of the doughnuts with his fingers – completely ignoring the small fork I had put out for him – and dipped it into the chocolate. However, instead of putting it into his own mouth, I found the chocolate-covered doughnut dangling in front of my lips.

“Say, ‘ahhhh’,” Nobuyuki said, his eyes narrowing in a smile.

I couldn’t help but blush a little as I opened my mouth. Nobuyuki popped the doughnut into my mouth and I felt my lips and tongue brush against his fingers before he moved them away.

“Oh my, looks like I made a bit of a mess,” he remarked, looking at his hand. Perhaps he had dipped the doughnut into too much chocolate, or it had simply dripped down onto his hand when he had fed it to me, but bits of melted chocolate covered his fingers.

Without another thought, he brought his hand to his lips and began to languidly lick the chocolate off his fingers. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from watching the movement of his tongue lapping over his fingers – the motion was far more sensual than it had any right to be. Whether it was caused by the cinnamon on the doughnut or something completely more primitive, I immediately felt a burst of heat through my lower abdomen.

It was going to be a long night….

~*~*~*~

As I stepped out of the washroom, I saw Nobuyuki slip something – it looked like a card – into a gift bag. He then capped the pen he was holding, stowing it back into his pocket.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t stay later, dear one,” he murmured apologetically as he shrugged on his coat. He had suddenly been called back to the office to deal with an urgent work situation, so our night had been cut shorter than expected.

“Oh, please, don’t feel bad! You can’t help it if an emergency comes up. I’m just happy that we were able to finish eating dinner!” I responded, leaning into the kiss he placed on my cheek.

“I’ll make it up to you next time,” he said with a smile before handing me the gift bag. “This is for you, by the way. Please do open it after I leave. I hope you’ll enjoy it.”

“Thank you, Nobuyuki. Flowers and a present? You’re spoiling me!”

“Not at all. Giving this to you may as well be a gift for myself, my dear.”

After slipping on his shoes, he turned around and suddenly I found my face caught between his large hands. A second later, he pulled me in for a kiss. His lips hungrily moved over my own and the soft, pleasant sensation made me moan before I realized – my body still felt hot and bothered and this kiss was doing things to me. I felt his tongue push past my slightly parted lips, deepening the kiss, and I could taste the lingering flavour of chocolate. I was desperate to taste more of him, and pressed myself further into his kiss, but he suddenly pulled away.

“I have to go, now,” he said with a small smile.

Though he sounded apologetic, I could see a teasing twinkle in his eye – he knew exactly what he was doing. He chuckled as I tried to glare at him, but my scowl quickly turned into a smile when he gave me another peck on the cheek.

“Good night, Nobuyuki. Drive safe!”

“Good night. Don’t stay up too late,” he responded with another smile. Then, he left, and I was alone once more in my apartment.

I let out a sigh. Well, there went that plan. I had hoped that he would stay the night and that my aphrodisiac-laden dinner would entice him into finally making a move on me.

Feeling sorry for myself, I picked up the gift bag Nobuyuki had given me and pulled out the tissue paper. I immediately saw an envelope and pulled that out first. I opened the card that was inside and was greeted with Nobuyuki’s neat, flowing script along with a folded piece of paper.

The card itself contained a short and sweet message from Nobuyuki wishing me a happy Valentine’s Day. I then unfolded the piece of paper – it looked like it had been a page ripped out of his notepad or day planner – but, as I read the message, I felt an odd feeling of dread flood through me.

'Happy Valentine’s Day, dear one. The other day, I was reading an article in a magazine that I found in Yukimura’s room. There were some fascinating articles that were quite enlightening. One of those articles gave me the perfect idea for your Valentine’s Day gift. I’m sorry I couldn’t stay to witness you opening your gift. I would’ve loved to see you try it out. I’ve left the magazine for you to read the article yourself as it’s quite informative. I’ve bookmarked the pages for you.’

I immediately looked back into the gift bag as I felt my heart race faster. Sure enough, there was a magazine tucked against the inner siding of the bag. My hand trembled slightly as I pulled it out. It was the exact same magazine that Umeko had lent me, and there were two sticky notes sticking out of the pages.

I flipped to the first sticky note and found myself face-to-face with the article about the sex toy for virgins. I immediately felt heat rush simultaneously up my face and down my neck. Seriously?! A second glance into the gift bag revealed a discreet black box labeled with the name of the sex toy. I wasn’t sure if I should feel flattered or embarrassed.

However, as I flipped to the second bookmark, I decided that I most definitely felt embarrassed.

The second sticky note was stuck on the article about aphrodisiacs and written on said sticky note were the words: 'Thank you for dinner.’

END

#slbp #2019SLBPCupidExchange #slbp nobuyuki #smut #meruchan #fieryanmitsu #fanfic #submission

[animaniachan]

👀 I see you are playing, too!!! Here to send some asks your way!! 🖊️ 📷 🌿

𝓜𝓲𝓽𝓼𝓾~~ yeshh, it’s my first step of being tumblr-alive again uwu

In response to this: A3! Ask Game

🖊: If you can watch any A3! play in real life, which one would it be?

Oof, this is a suuuper hard one to choose from—but I think I’ll have to go with Dead/Undead but Clockwork Heart and Fantom follows at a very close second and third! I’m just a big sucker in general for action and I loooove the plot for Dead/Undead (｡ì _ í｡) Seeing the makeup/visuals for the actors will be super dope as well as all the action scenes. If any of you’ve watched Blooming Live, the performance of RESPAWN was unreeeal 😌

📷: What’s your go to comfort food?

Definitely chocolate—I’m not a dessert person in general but chocolate is the one thing I will never betray ✨ Have any of you ever eaten Nutella out of the jar before? Because yea, dat me too—you’re not along in this world looool o(*////▽////*)q

🌿: What’s your favourite flower?

Hmm, this one actually shifted a lot through time. I grew up LOVING the carnation (momma Omi supreme uwu) but over the years it’s between the wisteria or iris...can’t really decide between them...

#a3! #a3! ask meme #a3! act! addict! actors! #q&a w/ yona #fieryanmitsu

[weebtarurights]

Itaru Chigasaki SSR (An Adult’s Way of Charming)

Special thanks to @fieryanmitsu​ for donating me the backstage~ T/////T I was crying cuz I couldn’t grind for this card! 

Story Title: "Perfectly Matched Shot"

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ PART 1 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Togawa: Chigasaki-kun, do you have a minute? Itaru: Yes. What is it? Togawa: Would you be interested in this? Itaru: A fashion fair, huh. Togawa: I received a complimentary ticket from a business partner the other day, It seems like 1 ticket can accommodate two visitors. Chigasaki-kun has many acquaintances in the theater company, I thought it'd be great if someone who likes fashion could attend the event. Itaru: Certainly, I  already have a few people in mind... Togawa: If so, feel free to take the tickets with you. Itaru:  Thank you. I'll talk to everyone in the company. (I can count myself out if there are two people who want to go.) Togawa: Ah, one more thing. Please let me know your impression about it after. Itaru: ....Understood. (So I have to attend the event myself in the end...)

Itaru: I'm back...Ah, Yuki. Talking about erfect timing. Yuki: Hm? What do you want? Itaru: You see... Are you interested in fashion fairs?

Yuki: Fashion fairs? What's up with you all of a sudden? Itaru: You don't have to be overly suspicious, you know. Yuki: Suddenly hearing such a thing coming from you just sounds fishy. Itaru: What an utter lack of trust. That aside.... Listen to me first. I got a complete ticket from my office. Would you like to go to the fair with me? It seems like various brands are joining the fair. I think it'll be quite impressive to see.  What do you think? Yuki: Heh...Sounds fun. When is it? Itaru: On this day. Yuki: Ah--...I have another plan for that day. I can't make it. Itaru: I see. It's about fashion so I thought of inviting you first but it can’t be helped if you have some other plans. Who should I talk to next though...? Yuki: In that case, I think Tenma would be interested. Itaru: If Tenma is interested, I'll invite him. Yuki: ...Ah, but that guy seems to be swamped with work lately so it might be difficult to invite him. itaru: Hmm... I guess I have no choice but to invite someone else. It's hard to go alone after all.

Izumi: Eh? Yuki, Itaru-san. Itaru: Director-san, GJ. Good timing. Yuki: Why don't you tell her what we're talking about just now? Itaru: That's right. Izumi: I have a bad feeling about this... Itaru: You don't have to react like that... You see---

Izumi: .... I see. So that was what you're talking about. Itaru: You looked relieved. Yuki: You were cautious of nothing. Izumi: Well, both of you were staring at me when I entered the lounge. I have no idea what you're talking about... Itaru: Haha, we didn’t mean it. Sorry. Sorry. ...Would you like to go? Izumi: Let's see... I don't have any other plans for that day. If you don't mind me coming along with you, I'll be glad to. Itaru: Good, good. I'll be expecting you, director-san.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ PART 2 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Itaru: There are more booths than I expected. Izumi: There's so much to see. It's fun! Itaru: I'm glad director-san is enjoying it. Next up are the shoe booths... Izumi: It's kind of lively. I wonder if there's an ongoing event. Itaru: Let me see-- ....I get it now. Director-san, look over there. Izumi: ....Ah! Itaru: Would you like to check it out? Izumi: Let's go! Visitor A: What a huge shoe centerpiece! Visitor B: Hey, that guy taking a picture over there... Isn't that Sumeragi Tenma!? Visitor C: You're right! He's soooo cool! Itaru: As expected of Tenma. Striking poses and taking pictures in places like this doesn't bother him one bit. Izumi: Fufu, it's Tenma-kun on work-mode. Igawa: Tenma-kun, is this alright? Tenma: It’s good. Thanks. Hm? Itaru-san, director-san. I didn't expect to bump into you in this fair. Itaru: I received a complimentary ticket at the office. I didn't think I'd see you here too. Tenma: I came here for work. It's more of part work, part play though. Izumi: I see. That's why Igawa-san is also here. Good work. Igawa: No, no. Rather than the work itself, I'm more worried about Tenma-kun.

Itaru: Worried....? Igawa: You see, this place is huge. Itaru: Ah--I get it. Izumi: Indeed. We can't be assured he won't get lost here.   Tenma: Hey, don't just casually agree with him! Itaru: Haha, sorry. Sorry. Tenma: Geez.... Well then...I still have to make rounds to other places.   We have to go. Izumi: Sure, take care! Itaru: Cya--. ....Let's check out the shoe booths. We're already here anyway. Izumi: Let's go! (Wah, the women's corner is filled with fashionable shoes I don't usually wear) Itaru: Found something you like? Izumi: I'm just curious. All the shoes here are something I won't usually wear. It's all new to me... I can't imagine wearing it. Itaru: Come to think of it, director-san is always on the move so it's kinda hard to imagine you wearing it. But I can imagine these shoes will look good on director-san. It's good to choose one of those shoes from time to time. Izumi: I see...I'll man up and choose something from them someday. Itaru: That "someday" might never come.   Izumi: T-that’s not true! Itaru: If you're going to wear one of those shoes, please show me. Izumi: Ugh....Understood. Visitor A: Hey, hey.  Did you take a good photo? Visitor B: It's perfect! Izumi: That's right! Itaru-san, why don't you take a picture like Tenma-kun next to that shoe centerpiece? Itaru: Ehh.... No thanks. I'm good. Izumi: Please don't say that. It might be surprisingly fun to try. Itaru: Okay, fine. I got it. Tenma's pose, huh.....Like this? Izumi: Looking good! I'll take it now.....Ready, say cheese!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ PART 3 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Izumi: I'm back. Itaru: I'm back. Yuki: Welcome. Itaru: Oh. Yuki, you came back earlier than us. Yuki: I'm done with my business. Kazunari: Hey, hey. You went to a fashion fair,  didn't you? How was it? Izumi: It was so much fun. There's a lot of stuff to see from the trendy to the unique ones. Itaru: I enjoyed it more than I expected. Kumon: Heh-, how nice-! Itaru: That reminds me, we bumped into Tenma at the venue. Kazunari: Ah, so that was it! Itaru: That was it? Kazunari: Tenma upped a post on his Inste.  He went to a fashion fair too! Yuki: Look, he's leaning against a big shoe looking all smug. Itaru: Ah-, this one. We saw Igawa-san taking this picture. Izumi: Speaking of, I took a picture of Itaru-san making the same pose. Maybe we should post it on Inste? Itaru: Ehh, that picture? It's kinda embarrassing but I guess it's fine. Izumi: Let's ask Tenma-kun before posting it-- Tenma: I'm back. Izumi: Tenma-kun, welcome back! Itaru: Welcome back. Izumi: We were talking about bumping into you at the fair. Tenma: Oh, is that so? I already posted the picture I took today. Kazunari: I saw it! The pic Tenten upped is so sick~! Itaru: I'm planning to up a picture to the theater company's Inste. Can I tag you? Tenma: I don't mind... but what kind of picture are you posting? Itaru: This one. Tenma: This? ...It’s the same pose as me!

Izumi: I asked Itaru-san to strike the same pose as you did. Itaru: At first, I felt like I'm just doing it cuz I don't have a choice but it's surprisingly fun. Kumon:  Eh, what pic? Show me too! Kazunari: Ohh! It’s so perfectly matched!  Yuki: Uwah, it's the same smug expression as the hack. Tenma: That was uncalled for...! Itaru: What do you think, Tenma? If you'd like to be the one to choose, we can pick another picture too. Tenma: Nah, that one's fine. I think this is the kind of stuff that'll make our fans happy. Itaru: Thanks. I'll up it then. Kazunari: Lemme snap a pic with the same pose and tag Tenten too~! Kumon: Me too! Me too! Yuki: Heh, sounds good. Should I press the shutter? Tenma: What's the point of taking a picture now?! Izumi: Ahaha! Itaru: Alright, let's up it…. and done. Ah, I got a response right away. Kazunari: Everyone's doing the same pose as Tenten! Kumon: Seems like people reacted to it right away! Cool, the likes and comments are increasing! Yuki: Heh, it's getting popular.

Choice 1: " They said it's cool" Izumi: Everyone in the comment is saying that Itaru-san is cool! Itaru: I'm grateful for that. I feel flattered. By the way, what do you think, director-san? You're the one who took the picture. Izumi: Of course, I think it's the coolest thing in the universe! Itaru: Hey, aren't you just throwing a half-baked compliment cuz you feel responsible for making me pose that way? Izumi: ....H-half-baked? Itaru: Figures. Izumi: B-but It's true! I really think Itaru-san is cool! Itaru: ....Then I'll take that as your true opinion.

Choice 2: "They said it's funny" Izumi: Everyone in the comment is saying that Itaru-san is funny. Itaru: That's strange. I'm pretty sure I posed seriously. My expression should have been fine. I wonder what's funny about it? Tenma: Fhm, perhaps even if Itaru-san had the same posed expression as me, it didn't turn out as awesome as mine?   Yuki: No, there are a lot of comments saying, the similarity is gradually creeping up to them as they are comparing your pictures. Tenma: W-what did you say!? Itaru: It would've been cool if Tenma was the only one who posted it. Was it my fault somehow? Tenma: Geez....That was unintentional but well, I guess it's okay as long as they're happy with it. Itaru: It's ok? Izumi: Ahaha!

Itaru: If it’s making our fans fired up then maybe, it's nice to do something like this from time to time. Izumi: Fufu, you're right!

---End---

#a3! #A3! translations #itaru chigasaki #itaru chigasaki backstage #a3! itaru #An Adult’s Way of Charming #Veludo SHOE STORE