Somewhat Wholesome

NO SELF DEPRECATION!!!

I’ll start

I like the body’s thick thighs

I’m real good at singing

I’m a kind and funny person

my hair is nice

I’m decent at art?

umm I’m a good listener

tags (no pressure guys!!): @nad-zeta @bokutoism @belladonnabarnes @mareaderinsertfanfiction @mllorei @silhouette-of-a-dream @lumos-barnes @venulus and @anyone else who wants to join

I have pretty lips.

I’m decent at writing and keep on learning 💪

I’m smart & hardworking.

Now, who should I… (◔‿◔)(. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

I have pretty hands

I’m good at convincing 

I’m a quick thinker 

Thanks for the tag @mareaderinsertfanfiction​!

My hair has this nice reddish shine when the sun hits it right.

I am decent at motivating others

I’m quite logical/analytical

i.) i like the color of my eyes a lot

ii.) i’m a decent writer and determined to keep learning, like what lorei-writes said

iii.) i feel like i’m good at psychoanalyzing people

1) My eyes have a cute shape, fortunately I never struggle w eyeliner cause of this

2) I’m kinda good at making people laugh w my outta pocket humor

3) I’m good at listening to people and solving their problems for them (which is why I’m doing psych, though I can’t solve me own probs for shit haha)

1 My lips are a nice shape not thin and not thick either.

2 I am good at seeing the best in people.

3 I like that I perceive what is positive about a bad situation.

Day 8 Cuddling

Nobunaga rough 👀

When he looks at my face, Kanetsugu lets out a troubled laugh.

Kanetsugu: “I feel the same as you, mc”

Kanetsugu: “I can’t put my feelings properly into words, I didn’t think I would be good enough for you”

With a serious face, Lord Kanetsugu looks straight at me.

Kanetsugu: “I’m in love with you”

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Ieyasu: Hells! It’s too hot in this suit!

Riding a creaky-ass, completely open funicular railway car up and back down a mountain at a 106% incline with a bunch of screaming children = my worst nightmare. But it was goddamn breathtaking.

THIS  👏 IS WHAT  👏 STRONG  👏 FEMALE  👏 REPRESENTATION  👏 LOOKS LIKE  👏 👏 👏  

Yukimura + Bridge of Nose (treasuring)

He knows his worst fears are confirmed when his heart dislodges from his chest and rushes headlong into the ground, splintering in tiny little shards. It will be the worst he has ever felt in a long time, having it confirmed that what he’s been seeing isn’t a dream or flights of fancy. The roar in his ears deafens him.

Saizo doesn’t immediately quip back either, and that’s how he’ll truly know. The ninja, so meticulous in each breath of his muscles, will still as if his whole body has been put momentarily on hold for his mind to catch up. In fact, he stills for so long, a second longer than necessary, Yukimura really won’t know how to breathe for the rush of panic that comes billowing through the hole in his chest.

“You’re going to have to repeat that, little lord.” And it comes out low, warningly, cautioning him to think through his thoughts carefully before uttering them into the space around them and making it real.

He soldiers on, because he’s a Sanada and he’s never stopped, not when it comes to fighting for his heart. “I asked you how do you seduce a woman, Saizo?”

Saizo looks at him then, his whole body twisting around like crooked bark. The gleam in his eyes won’t be unkind, but it won’t be compassionate either. He drops the arm halted midway on its path to his new cupboard, and Yukimara spies how his friend places an old, crumbling comb onto the floor, wrapping it in a kerchief before tucking it away from his prying eyes.

“And why are we asking this?”

He would have thought it obvious from the question, or at least obvious enough from the way the ninja looks him over. Nothing has ever escaped Saizo’s observations, so why bother asking? He can only conclude that his friend is being cruel, forcing him to confront what little pride he has left after having it chipped away piece by crumbling piece every day since—

He first notices it at dinner. The spark in the air crackles loud and tingles across his skin. It’s the strangest feeling, like trying to catch fireflies in moonlight, but nothing will come to him until his eyes settle on her, not too far away, and his entire body awakens at her smile. But she’s not smiling at him. That’s when his vision booms out and he notices his brother in frame, staring at her as if she alone possesses the moon and stars in her eyes. Their gazes lock too long on each other for it to seem appropriate.

It’s impossible, his mind shouts, so he leaves it be. Until he catches them again, this time in the hallway, and their palms brush softly underneath their sleeves, grasping each other’s fingers for the solitary second it takes for them to pass each other. The slide of skin is so quick and furtive his breath catches in his throat and something sharp oozes down to his toes. He almost wishes he hadn’t caught them, damning this strange prickle in the air whenever they’re together. 

He gains a fierce awareness of their proximity soon after, a deep pooling suspicion that makes him want to rip his skin off and hack it to pieces. He sees them everywhere. Hiding in plain sight. So heavy will his heart weigh, it pulls him down and down and down until he chokes on the longing and sickness coming from a fear he knows is not his natural state. He’s forced to wear the rind of somebody he doesn’t recognise, and it makes him sick.

Is it any wonder why his heart crashes so quickly now?

“Dear, why are you asking me this?” Saizo will move from his spot on the floor, his breath close enough to hiss.

“Because I love her.”

And the confession destroys him. It bubbles so suddenly to the surface he has to spit it out, because what’s he to say under such scrutiny but the truth? A sharpness, bitter and biting, weaves itself around every muscle. He thinks it’s his heart, a new one, spawning in ugly spurts, that squeezes his breath in a chokehold, strangling him.

He hears a sigh rushing out not in irritation, but sympathy. He knows it’s a little pathetic, so he expects many things from Saizo in this moment. He expects the ninja to huff in amusement, the cruel jeer cutting at the skin he wears now until it peels off him in layers. He expects the ninja to offer advice, doled out sardonically, until his words shame him enough to crawl out of the pitiful wasteland that has become his heart. He expects the ninja to take out another lovers guide, and hopes that the salacious content will sizzle the fire lying dormant within so that it burns across his face, his chest, his soul, cleansing him. 

He expects all of it. What he doesn’t expect, at all, is the softness cupping his cheeks, the nothingness before a heartbeat, and then, like a faint candle, the feel of Saizo himself. Lips on his nose. Gentle. Sweet. 

Warm.

It melts him.

Then Saizo pulls back, and everything is bright again. Sharp. “If you want to seduce a women, that’s how you do it,” he says, betraying nothing in his voice. “But I think it might be time to face the truth, dear.”

And Saizo turns him around, fingers clasped at his shoulders, so that his gaze faces towards the garden where he can see, in the little alcove hidden to most, the woman who takes his breath away together with his fierce, noble brother. She’s laughing though he won’t catch the sound, and he peeks Nobuyuki swaying ever closer, as if a force out of their control pushes them together until their bodies wilt into each other. They’re alive and so beautiful, silhouetted by the sun, that words dam up in his chest. Choking. He battles silently to drag them out.

It should be me, he screams. He should be the hero, not the one left behind. But silence is all he gets in this story.

They’re going to fall in love, he weeps. And the revelation exhausts what’s left of his strength.

Stop, he pleads. They won’t.

He stands there with the Lord Assassin holding him adrift, watching his brother curl errant fingers into her hair, and he will be too afraid to move for fear of the cut and burn and blinding pain caused by his broken heart strewn pitifully on the floor. 

He wonders through the roaring waves what he’ll do with all these pieces.  

There are too many pieces.

Companion drabble to [THIS].

Nobuyuki + Wrist (desire/lust)

“Are you trying to seduce someone, Lord Yukimura?”

She says it with so little forethought and insight into the mind of his dear brother, he’ll have to snort in amusement. So sudden will it burst forth, like a gale of wind from his chest, he won’t have enough time to catch the sound against his sleeve before it travels across the breeze to where they are huddled. 

“Milord, have you heard?” she calls out. “Your brother has a lady crush.”

Of course he does, but how she hasn’t recognised it escapes him. It’s not that he thinks her dumb, quite the contrary, but one would have to be a little thick in the head not to notice how his brother’s mood oscillates between extremes thanks to a girl with eyes so big and true he himself risks falling into them.

“I’m sure my brother has been very subtle in his bid to win her hand.” He’ll give Yukimura a pointed look, stopping beside him. Calm down, it says, she doesn’t know.

She flashes them a toothy smile, and the strangest sensation will flood him. A low and sultry warmth pushes against his skin. He suddenly understands why Yukimura acts the fool around her. It’s that smile, he concludes. It’s a very lovely smile, without a trace of guile, so forward and bright he feels an itch in his fingers to reach out and curl his hand around her hair. How utterly absurd, he thinks a moment later, and the disappointing lack of restraint he shows will irk him.

“Perhaps we can help. Show your brother how to woo her off her feet.“

“And what would you suggest, my dear?” 

Damn. Too forward. Her brows arch. She noticed.

“A demonstration,” she says, after a meaningful pause. “Look alive, Lord Yukimura. This is for your benefit.”

He has but the space of a heartbeat to catch on before she reaches out for something, and then he doesn’t know what to think because his mind will have suddenly fled for the heat that jolts and curls around his fingers. He looks down and sees it’s her hand around his wrist and, dear god, he can’t be thinking this but, oh, how he wishes she would just step closer and engulf him.

“So Lord Yukimura, you see how I’ve grasped your brother? This is what you do next.”

And for all of Yukimura’s embarrassed wheezing, it’s nothing compared to the fierce hunger crashing through him in that moment. As she turns towards him and gazes into his eyes, his body will feel like it’s shedding years of musty cobwebs to become moist and dewy.

She tugs at his hand then, playfully, until it goes slack and she lifts it, with great care, letting it hang in the air between them.

“Milord, excuse me,” she says softly, breath tickling his fingers.

His poor, dear, fool of a brother will look at them with such conflict it will make him feel like a bully when he’s alone in his room later. But right now, with so much heat coiling around him, there’s only his plonking heart and her lips pressing delicately into his wrist. Then her tongue flicks out, like a butterfly’s kiss, licking at his flesh. All the while her eyes stay locked on his, and he won’t believe what she shows him. She’ll let him see inside those big depths, past the sweetness and light and down and down into a chamber of flames and scathing desire; all consuming and wreaking havoc on his self-control, pulling him both ways until there’s nothing but fire, fire everywhere, in her eyes, his eyes, all around them. He knows he should run, yet he wants nothing more than to be strangled by the chains keeping her shadows at bay.

Then it’s gone. All of it. So suddenly he sucks in a rush of air, hand falling innocently to his side.

There will be a moment too long between them, a crackle they share with their eyes, before she smiles that toothy smile and strolls off, chuckling at Yukimura and sending him a jovial wink.

The destruction she leaves behind devastates him. He won’t know what to say afterwards for the longest time, only that his heart will henceforth murmur the same thing every day to itself whenever he sees his brother: 

I’m in trouble.

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.

Please forgive me.

Companion drabble to [THIS]