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Under Their Good Care
Fandom: Obey Me!
Character: Luke
Word count: 45
Genre: angst
"See? Demons aren't bad." Simeon stroked his head. "They'll take good care of you."
He spread his wings and rose to the sky. The gust almost swept the hat off Luke's head.
Luke held it in place, but it wasn't fitting well between his horns.
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Unwell
(A bit late birthday gift for @aejumi ! )
(Thanks, @tsundere-mitsuhide for emergency betareading, hah.)
(All my other writings can be found on writing masterlist.)
When Nobunaga entered her room, the world froze.
The room was empty.
But not just empty.
Her sewing utensils scattered all over the floor, needles still stuck in to the fabric. Abandoned. Abandoned as if she left in hurry... or someone made her leave.
Was she still somewhere close? No doubt he would have heard her scream if it happened just before he arrived. But there were no signs she resisted. She must have been drugged so she slept before she realised what was happening.
Who would kidnap her? Oh, there were many suspects, but insolent and daring enough to capture the Demon King's lover right under his nose?
Mitsuhide was the answer. If anyone could track them soon enough, it was him. But just when Nobunaga was turning around to dash to his retainer, a quiet sound stopped him in his tracks.
Footsteps, he would recognise them everywhere. And a slight rustle of fabric, unmistakable and dear.
He was sure the relief, the same relief he last felt when she had woken up after poisoning, must have shown on his face. There was no doubt.
"Nobunaga!", she rushed to him, her pale face lit up on the sight of him like the Sun itself.
She leaped into his arms and he squished her in a tight hug, burying his face in her hair. As he let her go from his arms, he placed his palm on her forehead, just like she always did when she was worried about his health. She didn't seem to have a fever, but she still looked ill, an almost green tint on her fair skin. Very ill.
"You're unwell. I'll call Ieyasu immediately."
"I'm fine," she said with a slight smile. "Lately I'm just a bit... nauseous in the mornings."
#ikesen#ikemen sengoku#ikesen nobunaga#ikesen fanfiction#ikemen sengoku fanfiction#hyolf's writing#hyolf's fanfiction
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Chapter 6 of Angelic Minds is up!
The wonderful banner is by @greedylilshit!
Chapter summary: You persuaded Levi not to wreck his life, but now you're late to school and on top of it, Lucifer caught you skipping class. But you still need to check on Mammon and make sure he's okay. Your attempt to save him... how badly it can fail?
What are Angelic Minds?
A long, alternate take on Angelic Demons pop quiz. It doesn't require the reader to know the event - it's rewritten as a new story and re-interpreted definitely not as a comedy the event was. It features no pairing and is focused on the political plot behind the incident, as well as its consequences.
Summary: Diavolo’s unpleasant prank turns serious when the bangles sent by Michael as a gift get stuck on the demon’s arms and change their personalities more and more every day. Both Diavolo and Simeon seem to enjoy the situation, albeit for different reasons and you can’t figure out what’s hiding behind their uncannily cheerful facades.
You watch in horror when the demon brothers destroy everything they once cared for and you’re catching yourself having surprising thoughts too - and come to the conclusion that this must end.
Your intervention adds to the strain on yours, Diavolo’s, and Simeon’s relations and to the charged political situation, as well as the conflict that threatens to arise as the brothers’ loyalty towards the Devildom wavers and cracks under the spell.
It's a story full of angst, sabotage and intrigue. Of sacrifice and betrayal. And of course, of brainwashing.
Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28025979
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Chapter 8 of Angelic Minds is up!
the wonderful banner is by@greedylilshit!
It took a long time, but chapter 8 is here!
You're under Barbatos's supervision at RAD, since the absence of the brothers might bring danger upon you - but as the butler made plans with Luke, you use this chance to ask the young angel about Simeon's words. Will he be able to help you uncover the truth?
What are Angelic Minds?
A long, alternative take on Angelic Demons pop quiz. It doesn't require the reader to know the event - it's rewritten as a new story and re-interpreted definitely not as a comedy the event was. It features no pairing and is focused on the political plot behind the incident, as well as its consequences.
Summary: Diavolo’s unpleasant prank turns serious when the bangles sent by Michael as a gift get stuck on the demon’s arms and change their personalities more and more every day and all you can do is watch in horror how they destroy everything they cared about. Both Diavolo and Simeon seem to enjoy the situation, albeit for different reasons and you can’t figure out what’s hiding behind their uncannily cheerful facades.
Your intervention adds to the strain on yours, Diavolo’s, and Simeon’s relations and to the charged political situation, as well as the conflict that threatens to arise as the brothers’ loyalty towards the Devildom wavers and cracks under the spell. But... will you be able to protect them? Or yourself? You're catching yourself on surprising thoughts as well...
It's a story full of angst, sabotage and intrigue. Of sacrifice and betrayal. And of course, of brainwashing.
Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28025979
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Chapter 10 of Angelic Minds is up!
The wonderful banner is by @greedylilshit!
Back to the House of Lamentation and time to start working on the preparations to the party along with everyone. Solomon accompanies you on your rounds, seemingly concerned about what you messaged him about the day before, and about the spell.
You also look for Belphie who was nowhere to be seen for a while - and check up on him. There is definitely something going on with him too, even if it seems relatively mild.
Read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28025979
Kudos and comments are more than welcome! There's no better boost to conficence and motivation than feedback :3
What are Angelic Minds?
A long, alternative take on Angelic Demons pop quiz, rewritten and re-interpreted as a new and stand-alone story with a GN reader. It's focused on the political plot behind the incident, as well as its consequences.
Both Diavolo and Simeon seem to enjoy the situation, albeit for different reasons and you can’t figure out what’s hiding behind their uncannily cheerful facades and the half-truths they tell you.
Your intervention adds to the charged political situation, as well as the conflict that threatens to arise as the brothers’ loyalty towards the Devildom wavers and cracks under the spell. But... will you be able to protect them? Or yourself? You're catching yourself on surprising thoughts as well...
It's a story full of angst, sabotage and intrigue. Of sacrifice and betrayal. And of course, of brainwashing.
#angelic minds#obey me#obey me!#obey me fanfiction#obey me solomon#obey me belphegor#obey me fanfic#hyolf's stuff#hyolf's fanfiction
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Can we have a Reader talking to Asmo about how they're Ace, and Asmo being all "Oh honey, we been knew" and explaining things on how he only acted like that so the Reader can come out on their own?
Sure thing~! I hope I gave your prompt justice... it ended up much longer and much more nuanced that I planned, with reader being nervous about their coming out.
I hope it’s still good!
“Hey, Asmo,” you finally summoned enough courage to start but you felt it escaping again once he looked up. He sent you a bright smile, like always.
You wondered, why did you come to him first, out of all demons.
To the Avatar of Lust, when his sin in its most core meaning was completely alien to you. Your whole friendship really seemed to defy logic, but it was working.
And working smoothly, despite the clashes you two had at first. At the beginning of your stay, he definitely wasn’t your favourite demon but after he understood better where your boundaries lay, he just settled into his usual flirting and never made any real moves on you again – and proved to be a great and affectionate companion. In the end his flirting wasn’t that bad anyway – a surprising conclusion, but yet somehow you didn’t mind it that much after a while. It was just flying over your head.
He was such a perpetual flirter that it seemed almost instinctual and – for some reason – noncommittal. None of his lines felt like he expected a flirty reply and you never felt pressured to flirt back. And he never showed even a hint of annoyance or disappointment when his pick-up lines had no effect.
But that felt a bit phony – to just leave him with his obviously missed flirting attempts. It needed some clearing up. However, after all the time he kept trying to flirt, not minding the lack of response, the coming out just seemed… late. The longer it remained unspoken, the more difficult it was to collect your courage and tell him.
And you couldn’t help but worry – not if he’d accept you, but rather if he wouldn’t think that you just let him embarrass himself.
“There’s been something I wanted to tell you”, you said. The whole introductory sentence wasn’t necessary, you knew that but you couldn’t help but stall.
Surprisingly, he didn’t say anything. Normally, you’d expect him to butt in and ask if you’re going to confess, but he just smiled at you even brighter and let out only an encouraging hum as he rested his chin on his hand, focusing all his attention on you.
“It’s just…” you started again, but couldn’t help but sigh. “I’m ace. I mean asexual. That means…”
“I know what it means, hun” he interrupted you and reached for your hand to gently rub your knuckles. And a hint of the same tenderness enriched his smile. “Thank you for trusting me with that.”
“You’re not surprised then?” You weren’t sure why, but a tiny bit of annoyance rubbed at you at the fact you were stressing yourself out for no reason. But after that one split-second, only relief remained.
“Should I be? You never showed any interest in anyone, so it was quite an obvious conclusion.”
“So…” you sighed, “you knew.”
“Of course I knew,” he exclaimed. “I am the Avatar of Lust after all. I can sense lust in people, I can tell when there’s none.” He shrugged cheerfully, as only Asmo could in the middle of a serious talk. “But you seemed to avoid the topic… so I figured it was for the best to just keep everything up. You never seemed bothered anyway.” His smile wavered a bit with worry. “Were you?”
“Not really,” you shook your head.
“I’m glad!~ I didn’t want to pressure you with a sudden change. Though…”, he lingered on a thought for a moment, suddenly quiet and calm, “It made everything more difficult instead, didn’t it?”
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An Angel’s Choice
Fandom: Obey Me!
Character: Simeon
Warnings: character death
Word count: 44
The Celestial Realm couldn't let someone just take hold of such formidable power. Simeon understood that.
You perished completely, along with your soul.
The moment he lost you, nothing was the same ever again.
He didn't fall that day. But he wished he had.
#obey me!#obey me#obey me simeon#death tw#character death#twitterature#all souls' day celebration#hyolf's stuff#hyolf's fanfiction#obey me fanfiction
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Angelic Minds - event rewrite!
Currently only on Ao3, link is in the source of the post and on my Masterlist here (Due to Tumblr's link ban).
The fic is angstier and darker re-interpretation of the event. Celestial Realm is an anti-utopia and not interested in maintaining good relations with the Devildom. There's political plotting and sabotage as well.
Summary:
Diavolo’s unpleasant prank turns serious when the bangles sent by Michael as a gift get stuck on the demon’s arms and change their personalities more and more every day. Both Diavolo and Simeon seem to enjoy the situation, albeit for different reasons and you can’t figure out what’s hiding behind their uncannily cheerful facades.
You watch in horror when the demon brothers destroy everything they once cared for and you’re catching yourself on surprising thoughts too - and come to the conclusion that this must end.
Your intervention adds to the strain on yours, Diavolo’s, and Simeon’s relations and to the charged political situation, as well as the conflict that threatens to arise as the brothers’ loyalty towards the Devildom wavers and cracks under the spell.
Rewrite and continuation of the Angelic Demons event, uses some of the dialogue from the event, but re-interpreted not as the comedic story the event is, but a story full of angst, sabotage and intrigue. Of sacrifice and betrayal. And of course, of brainwashing.
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Roots
Fandom: Obey Me!
Character: Asmodeus
Genre: light angst
Betareading: @reneotomegirl
Summary: based on one of the @mammon-chan’s scenarios to the prompt asks. Unrequired love featuring Asmo and OC Ren. Written for Asmo’s Week started by @milas-imaginarium
Word count: 609
As usual, Ao3 link in the source.
“We have to dye those roots”, Asmo ran his fingers through Ren’s hair, still a bit damp after his post-workout shower. “Immediately.”
“Okay, okay,” the boy sighed. “Yep. Absolutely an emergency.”
“Reennnn, you need to take better care of yourself~!”
“I can do this myself, you know?” he complained but obediently sat in the chair, already used to all the beauty regimens Asmo liked to run him through.
“Oh no, you can’t. The last time you dyed your roots yourself, you completely wrecked your hair. We can’t have that again.”
Ren sighed again and shook his head, but there was a slight smile ghosting on his lips. And he surely didn’t mind the beauty sessions at all. Tired after the harsh training, he would sometimes even drop by without being called.
Whenever it happened, Asmo was overjoyed that Ren would seek some time together on his own. Without any gratification in mind, just to be around. There was something refreshing and fulfilling in the fact that Ren was coming to him just with Asmo in mind, his attention fully on Asmo, and not on his own pleasure and satisfaction.
Knowing that was giving Asmo unknown feelings he didn’t have a name for. Asmo couldn’t help but be captivated by this boy, who was showing him sides Asmo didn’t even know he had. And Asmo wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t savour all those new sides of his. After all, he loved himself over anything else.
But still, Asmo wanted to pamper Ren - with whatever Ren was willing to take. He wanted to shower Ren in everything he has to give. And he couldn’t think of anything better than himself.
He wanted more of Ren. Asmo thought he wanted nothing more than to ignite lust and sate it. But during those beauty regimens, when he ran his fingers over Ren’s skin, brushed Ren’s hair, when he had that peculiar human under his touch, he wasn’t even sure what kind of “more” he wanted.
It wasn’t like him to be this conflicted. And it wasn’t like him to keep promises if he didn’t feel like it. For Asmo, his whim was law. He usually didn’t care either if he’d shatter someone’s trust. And yet he wouldn’t dare to break that one promise he gave half-heartedly that day.
Not after Asmo himself accidentally helped Ren figure out his identity. That was the moment that broke the ice and made possible what they now had - but closed another door for Asmo. Or locked it. It was closed anyway, but Asmo wasn’t used to just accepting that he cannot get what he wants.
But whenever he thought of the overjoyed expression when Ren learnt that asexuality was a thing, Asmo knew he wouldn’t ever force that door open and lose that trust.
Not after that unfortunate joke about using charm, long ago, and the talk that followed. Asmo never fully understood the point, but grasped enough to understand why this point of view was making Ren oppose the idea so strongly. And why Ren was wary of him despite the pact and his natural resilience granting him safety.
And Asmo had to respect that. This was the first “must” he placed upon himself on his own.
As long as Ren was looking at him, it was okay. As long as Ren was appreciating him, it was okay.
Asmo placed a kiss on the top of Ren’s head.
“I reaaaally love you, you know that?”, he whispered into Ren’s hair. And he really meant that this time, more than he himself was aware of.
But as always, Ren’s response was only an amused:
“Right, right.”
#obey me asmodeus#obey me!#obey me#swd obey me#obey me! shall we date#hyolf's stuff#hyolf's fanfiction#AsmosWeek#TheFandomLovesAsmo
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Doodle$ and Drabble$
This was created for Doodle$ and Drabble$ creator gacha - please check out the post I linked in sources, it’s an initiative to help out a fellow creator!
For @venusastera - autumn fluff with Luka! Thank you for your donation! I’m recently inspired to do illustrated ficlets, so both fanart and fanfic - I hope you’ll enjoy them :3
Alice threw her soaking raincoat and all the collected fallen leaves into the sink. The rain didn’t catch them by surprise, but the autumn weather didn’t go easy on them. The wind was strong enough to break Luka’s umbrella, and her coat was proved somewhat ineffective. The feeling of wet skirt on her knees and thighs was definitely not something she wanted to experience anytime soon.
“It will be warm here in no time.” Luka closed the door of the stove and took out one of the cover lid rings with a fire poker to put a pot with fresh milk onto the fireplace.
“You have a knack for it. Just poof, and the fire is there.” Alice sighed, but a gentle smile on her face was more than enough to prove she wasn't really sad about it. “Here,” she put a towel onto his head and started drying his hair.
“Thanks.”
After a while the fire was cracking, a pleasant warmth radiated from the stove as they were sitting close and trying to warm up.
“The milk is about to boil,” she noticed. “I’ll take care of it.”
“I’ll do it. It's hot,” he stood up but she cast him a pouty glance.
“You get mugs and cocoa. They're on the top shelf. I can't reach it.”
“...oh.”
“See?”
“Y-yeah." He kissed her forehead somewhat awkwardly, probably embarrassed not to have noticed that, and reached for the cocoa box. “...I'll put them lower next time.”
#ikerev#ikemen revolution#ikerev fanfiction#ikemen revolution fanfiction#ikerev fanart#ikemen revolution fanart#doodle$ and drabble$#luka clemence#hyolf's fanart#hyolf's stuff#hyolf's fanfiction
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Shogetsu’s room
(This ficlet wouldn’t be the same without @rainyluneotome‘s proofreading. Thank you!)
(This fic is a part of IkeSen Pets series of one-shots. Other stories can be found here.)
(TW: terminal illness)
Masamune entered the room with a bowl in his hand. Shogetsu raised his graying head slowly, looking at him with eyes dimmed with pain. After a while he managed to stand up and made a few steps closer and nuzzled his cheek against Masamune’s hip. So weak, as if he were a normal cat.
Masamune held the bowl for Shogetsu, as the tiger was slowly eating minced meat, his paws barely keeping him up.
It’s been a long time since his orange fur shone. The lump on his side looked the same as yesterday, his breath heavy as usual. Ieyasu’s herbs couldn’t make Shogetsu feel better anymore and while Ieyasu didn’t say a word, Masamune knew it was time.
Shogetsu finished the meat and tried to lay down, paws unsteady, and Masamune had to help him with that again. Shogetsu rested on the floor and sighed, looking at his master as if he already knew what was coming.
Masamune touched the hilt of his katana, but couldn’t unsheathe the sword while Shogetsu was staring into his eyes.
It was so unlike him to hesitate like this.
But he sat on the floor, let Shogetsu rest on his lap and simply stayed there, petting the tiger’s head, as the animal was dozing off into sleep.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow for sure, he thought again.
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Shogetsu’s eye
(Thanks to @tarralin this text is more English than it was. Thank you!)
(This is a part of IkeSen Pets series of one-shots. Other stories can be found here.)
“You had tremendous luck, Masamune,” someone said.
Masamune was slowly regaining consciousness, pain throbbing in his head. Who was talking? He knew the voice and after a while, waiting for the fog in his head to disperse rather than fighting it, he finally connected it to a right person. Mitsuhide. What was he doing here? Masamune wanted to ask him that, but he felt so nauseous, he didn’t risk it. A metallic tang in the air caused him to be even more sick than he felt. Blood. The smell of blood. The realisation sobered him a bit.
He opened his eye slowly, trying to focus on anything, just to keep a grip on reality.
Everything was red.
Reddish brown stains on almost everything, including Shogetsu’s face, half of it dirtied in drying blood. Dead bodies piled up on the floor between dishes and cold food. Someone entered the room, but Masamune didn’t really notice more than the strike of pain the sound inflicted.
“What...” Masamune tried to ask Mitsuhide, his throat was however too dry to finish the sentence.
„Here, drink some water.” Ieyasu appeared in his view and almost shoved a cup into his face. „With this much sake you’ve had it’s quite impressive you survived.”
“I wasn’t... drinking?”
“How it is even possible a cook can’t tell he’s got sake instead of water?” Ieyasu complained while he was helping Masamune with the cup.
“That vassal of yours put a lot of sake in your food and drinks. More than enough to knock you out completely.”
He slowly rose his torso from a tatami mat, his head spinning, but working somehow. All the pieces were slowly falling on their place. The vassal he visited. A feast they had. Then he passed out to wake up with horrendous hangover in the blood-stained room. Treason, of course. Possibly a murder attempt, but why with such means?
He held the cup and Ieyasu moved to Shogetsu to examine his eye.
“Why did you even bring your tiger with you?”, he asked, but probably didn’t expect any answer.
“Just did,” Masamune said anyway.
“Good hunch. He saved you.”
“He did?”
“When we came to your rescue,” Mitsuhide butted in, stressing the word rescue a bit too much, „all of them were already taken care of.”
“Shogetsu.”
“Indeed. He saved your ass.”
There were many bodies though. Shogetsu must have had a difficult task to save his master from that many hostile men, all of them armed, considering how many blades were scattered on the floor.
“How’s he?” Masamune asked, but Ieyasu clicked his tongue while trying to cautiously clean the tiger’s face.
“He’ll live. But the cut is quite deep, went through the lid.” He gently put some salve on the wound. „He lost his eye.”
“He’ll be a good match for you.” Mitsuhide’s joke was very not funny, but Masamune didn’t have any strength to argue.
He slumped on a table and groaned. Both other warlords shut up, just gave him one more cup of water and collected him and Shogetsu from the messy room and brought to a clean one. The mansion was deserted. The vassal’s troops were defeated by Ieyasu’s and Mitsuhide’s backup and most of the assault aimed directly at Masamune was taken care of by Shogetsu, the vassal included. Without their liege soldiers didn’t put up much of a fight and just fled. There was probably some time to use before the rebellious vassal’s allies – if he had any, that is – come to finish the job, so Masamune was placed in a free room and taken care of until the poisoning lessened.
Later he was told Shogetsu didn’t allow anyone enter the room he was assaulted in, just guarded his master. He didn’t even let in Mitsuhide and Ieyasu at first, too nervous to realise who they were. Growling alarmingly, he remained curled protectively around the unconscious Masamune. They had to retreat to the corridor but once Shogetsu recognized their scents, he finally allowed them to pass and even led them hastily to his master. Not only led, he pushed Ieyasu forwards with his head, not allowing him to stop to examine the bodies, poked Masamune’s cheek with his nose and didn’t let Ieyasu leave until Ieyasu faked some unnecessary check-up and treatment.
#ikesennw reblog#cybird#ikemen sengoku#ikesen#shogetsu#masamune#fanfiction#fanfic#hyolf's fanfiction#hyolf's fanfic#hyolf's writing#ikesen fanfic#ikesen fanfiction#ikemen sengoku fanfiction#ikemen sengoku fanfic
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Forgotten Dreams p. 4
(Thanks for @tsundere-mitsuhide and @tarralin for betareading!)
(This is a multi-part fic. All chapters and other writings available here or on Fanstuff Masterlist. Previous part can be read here.)
Nobunaga wasn’t good at waiting. Yes, he could wait for his plans to bring results, but idly waiting for things to happen? This wasn’t his style. There was nothing to do, and he found it difficult not to be able to act on the discovery. She disappeared like a fog again and that left him restless.
He looked into his glass. There wasn’t much to do every evening but drink and watch the ice melt; tonight it was Godfather on the rocks. It was the last cocktail to try out at the bar. At this point he knew the taste of every drink the barkeeper could offer, despite setting a limit of one new drink a day and checking out the bar in turns with Sasuke, sometimes together. Somehow Sasuke seemed to consider the quiet, dim-lit bar a better place for plotting than their small rented flat.
There was only one thing lacking for the perfect plotting place – Mitsuhide smiling in the darkest corner. But in the future there was no one to assist Nobunaga in his plans. Just Sasuke, who was rather the one planning more than assisting, since he knew the world so much better.
The barkeeper always looked at them knowingly, with a pleasant smile on his face, as if he guessed their purpose in coming every evening. None of them had spoken up about it, just chatted with him out of politeness and boredom about everyday mundane things. Nothing specific. Just one of many hushed conversations that ran somewhere in the background, never really becoming a noise. He gave off a fatherly air which didn’t falter even around the most bossy customers he had, so he was easy to talk to.
Nobunaga checked his watch. Long ago he couldn’t help to appreciate this practical invention, but after a few years it became second nature for him to have it on his wrist. The future had a lot to offer and he still couldn’t stop his excitement to learn it all but some things slid easily into his life as if they were always there.
The ice melted and the drink tasted more like flavoured water than a cocktail, so he simply left the rest, paid the check and left the quiet pub. There was no point waiting anymore. It was long after most office workers departed for home. Very unlikely that she’ll drop by tonight.
Just as he crossed the street and headed to a nearby station, a woman turned into the alley which led to the pub. Her face was hidden behind a fringe so long one could barely see her eyes.
The end of the half of the year has been a nightmare. Financial reports piled up and didn’t leave much time for rest. She had to stay at work late and come early, despite not having any important tasks officially to do herself. However, all documentation came through her office and there were always someone else’s mistakes to correct. Lots of them.
Her frustration built up more and more, but she knew it’s still nothing compared to the end of the year, so she just gritted her teeth and worked as hard as she could force herself to.
Most of the time she was too exhausted to look for a place to drink on her way home, but this was the last day of the nightmare and she felt like celebrating the victory of survival.
She entered the pub and headed to the counter, almost smiling as she saw the familiar face of the barman, always considerate, always knowing what drink she’s thinking of or would like.
Voices of customers buzzed slightly in the background, though most were already finishing their drinks and food. Some of them leaving while others remained until late in the night. She went through the pleasant sound of their chatter as she approached the counter.
She climbed a stool – still warm from its previous patron – and the drink she wanted already there waiting, the barkeeper smiling at her nicely.
“It’s been a while,” he said. “On the house.”
“I can’t accept that…” she looked at him, but his fatherly smile just rendered her defenceless. “Alright. Thank you. I appreciate it.”
Two days later she dropped by again and sat at the counter, still not recovered after the financial reports and the fact she had to resume working anyway, like if the frenzy never happened. At least she could arrive early and enjoy her drink on the corner of the counter, watching the pub slowly filling with patrons, most of them seemingly coming there regularly and enjoying the quietness and space to talk without having to shout more than just getting drunk.
The barman greeted her with a nod. She nodded back and headed to the side of the counter. Not much later, she had a bowl of noodles to dig in. She nodded at him again and not much later a high, stemmed cocktail glass. She sipped the cocktail, fruity and reddish, quite refreshing despite no ice was in the glass. She wasn’t an expert, but figured out there’s never ice in these typical fancy cocktail glasses.
“This one is good. Thank you.” She smiled at the barman with a slight reserve.
“I thought it was perfect for today. Enjoy yourself then.”
The barman left her alone while she was sipping the Cosmopolitan. Quite strong, but strong drinks were definitely good for such days, especially after all these nights, when she couldn’t afford being hungover the next morning. This one was definitely a drink she wouldn’t drink a week ago, but nevertheless well-balanced. More refreshing than sweet, indeed just perfect for today, even if she was ordering the sweetest ones for most of the time. To think of it, she had sweet drinks most of the time. Like if she needed some sugar rush. A bit surprising. She didn’t have such a strong preference earlier, but now?
She looked around in the bar. It was still quite empty at this hour, most of the regulars and first-timers arrived later, so she had some time for herself. All the nearby tables were still free, just a few deeper in the room, hidden in corners were occupied, so it was quieter than she was used to. As if the pub was still half asleep. She liked it this way. It was never loud in here, but the conversations did make some background noise.
She could hear even that someone left the table hidden in the shadows behind her back. Calm footsteps approached the counter and she suddenly felt electrified. A shiver on her back was a pleasant sensation though.
This was nothing unusual for a customer to leave their table to get another drink, but her body reacted as if it was the most important event of the century.
The man – no doubt it was a man – passed behind her back and she really wanted to look at the source of this pheromone rush, but was worried her face would betray her, so she just eyed him from behind her hair, her eyes safely hidden behind the long fringe.
“Another one... please.” The man’s voice was deep, he made a little pause like if he remembered to add the polite word a bit too late, and she recognised him. The same voice that made her so unsettled the other day, weeks ago, when she had met that weird lab coat guy.
The barman prepared a glass, threw some cracked ice into it and started pouring liquors, thoroughly observed by the man.
She could tell the man was older than her, with silver streaks in his hair, but had quite a youthful face. He seemed sturdy and his forearms confirmed it as she could trace the movements of his muscles whenever he moved a hand.
But his presence was strong, he seemed like one of those overconfident, pushy types.
Then he looked at her.
“Oh?” The smile he gave her a shot through the heart. “Aren’t you Sasuke’s friend?”
“Ah... Well, right, we talked the other day.”
He sat at the counter, not next to her… unfortunately. But she could tell he was giving her space. If he was any other stranger she’d feel threatened indeed, but now? She wouldn’t mind him. But again, not good to be too proactive, especially since the man gave off the air of confidence and was definitely the type to like some conquest. Though she didn’t know why was she so sure about it. What was that nostalgic feeling anyway?
She disciplined herself to keep calm. She never fancied such guys, no matter how intriguing it was to play with danger, she kept her guard up around them. Including this one. But her own intense reaction was difficult to subdue and she couldn’t really make heads and tails from it.
But for some reason, there was a tint of excitement in her heart, like if she just met a crush she hadn’t seen for a long time.
(Part 5)
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Forgotten Dreams p.1
(This is a multi-part Nobunaga’s dramatic route AU. Other writings can be found on Writing Masterlist.)
(It’s more English thanks to @ikemenprincessnaga proofreading. Thank you!)
It had been a while since she last had those dreams. Their vividness dimmed over time, the emotions they were bringing lost their strength, but they were still there. Not so unsettling as at the beginning, fortunately. She wasn't bothered anymore, just disappointed they haunted her for all these years.
After all that time she thought they might have left her alone for good. High time for the effects of that lightning strike to wear out.
She talked to the doctors in the hospital as she was recovering after electrocution, but they couldn't do anything about it. All they did was to hypothesise the strike induced those dreams for an unknown reason. Nothing she couldn't figure out by herself.
She sighed as she arrived to work to brew the first morning coffee for her boss. He demanded to have his coffee already awaiting him when he entered the office, so she had to be early. Fed up with this dull job and the charming life of a mere secretary, she had however no choice left but to grit her teeth. Her chance to work in fashion industry slipped away due to her stay in hospital. They needed a new employee right away and didn't bother to wait until the newbie recovered. Someone else was hired in her place, but the costs of life stayed the same and she needed a job.
This was the only option. They offered an acceptable pay, had quite a good commute and a quick start. She took the job not asking a question, though she knew there must have been a reason for the urgency of the offer.
After work she was busy too, but moonlighting couldn't provide her enough income to make a living yet. Her hand-made clothes barely sold. Not surprising; beginnings are never easy, and she was aware she wouldn't be able to make a name for herself so quickly. This much was obvious. No matter how much she wanted to make another dress, there were already three unsold ones.
Today’s work was especially hard to bear. She still felt the sensation of cloth lingering under her fingertips. The dreams might have been diluted to barely recognisable images, but she could feel the haori almost as if she really was touching it. She dreamt a man was about to wear a newly delivered haori, but she noticed a pin. She couldn’t remember why was the pin so important, why it turned out to cause that chaos, but it caused a commotion.
The man’s face and name escaped her memory. The same way those strong feelings she had for him in the first few dreams did. Which was good, actually, she didn’t want those dreams to interfere with her daily life and the emotions were just too overwhelming; they stormed her soul and tormented her for the entire day. Fortunately she didn’t wake up shaken and devastated anymore. But the cloth she touched left her hopelessly missing sewing. And she was often sewing in those dreams.
“Hey, smile,” she heard a man’s voice. Deep in her thoughts, she didn’t even realise it was the time. “It’s a pity to see such a pretty girl sulking. I don’t want you to spoil my mornings with that face.”
She hastily greeted him. The boss passed her without really bothering to answer and entered the office, slamming the door.
Looked like she was going to have a long day. She made everything right, the coffee was there, hot but cooled down enough for him to drink it right away. But the irritation she always had deep in her heart and mind was growing steadily, especially when she was longing to do something meaningful but the whole day was about to be filled with mundane tasks to at least try to make this small, badly led company working.
She was heading to a quiet pub through well lit evening streets, when she almost ran into a man in a lab coat. No wonder, it was just in front of the nearby university. Trying to dodge her, he dropped the papers he was holding, so she stopped to help him gather them.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t watch out where I was going.”
“You don’t need to apologize, I should pay more attention, too.”
He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t really tell where did she know him from. Brown hair, brown eyes, glasses... Maybe from school? Or maybe from a part-time job? Anyway she must have been just passing him, not really noticing his presence at that time. She just couldn’t recollect, much to her distress, and she didn’t know why it felt so important.
There was no point prying into things though. She apologized once again and walked away.
(Part 2 on Writing Masterlist)
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Fanfiction and fanart reminder
Fanarts and fanfics will be moved to a blog dedicated to art and writing. Here I will be only reblogging them, not necessarily just after I post it there. Do if you want to get the stuff earlier, you're very welcome to follow that blog.
As soon as I get my depression back, I'll be back to writing and will go first with sone one-shots and then try to refurbish older multi-part fics and repost them there.
This blog will go back to mostly screenshots, some commentary and worthy reblogs. I'm still going to reblog good fics and art here and mine as well.
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Forgotten Dreams p. 3
(Thanks to @tsundere-mitsuhide all weird not-very-English sentences were Englished up. Thank you!)
(This is part 3 of Forgotten Dreams. Previous part here. Other chapters and writings available here or in Fanstuff Masterlist.)
A woman almost ran into him, mumbled something indiscernible, then exited the pub as he was heading to the counter, without bothering with her. Nobunaga approached Sasuke with a feeling he’s wasting his time while he should be doing something much more important. What was this weird feeling about the woman who just passed him? He couldn’t even see her face hidden behind a very long fringe. Still, there was something familiar in the way she hastily marched through the room.
“It was her.” Sasuke said finally.
Nobunaga froze and looked around, but the door behind her already closed. He turned to the door to run after her, but stopped. There was no point following her. Too many alleys and streets to look for her and the bar was exactly halfway between two stations. She could have chosen any of them. He could probably track her down, but with only two people it wasn’t likely to succeed. Not to mention it could scare her.
Sasuke must have had a reason not to tell him right away. To wait until she left.
“I expect you to have an important information for me.” Nobunaga sat at the counter and nodded at the barkeeper.
He quickly got his drink and moved to the point.
“Report, Sasuke.”
“This is not a way to talk to a friend. Not very future-like at least.”
“Enough of it.”
Sasuke looked at him with his typical blank face that indicated he’s not pleased but going to drop the issue anyway.
“She didn’t seem to remember.” His voice was quiet. And sad.
“Tell me more. What did you confirm?”
“She told me she had a feeling we met somewhere, but couldn’t remember anything else.”
Yes, it looked like this. If it was indeed her, she must have heard his voice even if she wasn’t looking up at his face. But she didn’t react. She just passed by as if he was a stranger.
He steepled his fingers, deep in thought.
Maybe he was. Nobunaga hesitated. All he was focused on was finding her. He didn’t give it much thought, didn’t wonder what would their reunion be like or how would it go. Sasuke admitted she might not remember, but confirmed he saw her once. On this basis, Nobunaga decided to take everything in his hands. But now as he saw her so oblivious, so indifferent, he wasn’t sure he should even interfere in her life. She lived her life here. This was her place, her home, her time. Did he have a right to turn it all over?
Yes? That was the answer he would have given just a few years ago, before he felt the love for her and before he unreasonably felt her life mattered more than the other. Before he arrived in the future to see this completely alien world.
But anyway he couldn’t just let it go. If she was happy here, he’d have a tough decision to make, but the woman that shone in the Sengoku wasn’t there anymore. She seemed so grey and wilted that he didn’t even recognize her. There was no spirit in her movements anymore. He spent years in this new, wildly unpredictable environment, and long months beforehand to learn and prepare, all to find her and bring her home. He would probably give it up if he saw her smile more happily than she smiled for him.
But he still had to confirm it. Even if she doesn’t remember, he had to know.
“She seemed frustrated.” Sasuke said as if he knew what was happening in Nobunaga’s head.
Maybe he did. They knew each other for years now, he could guess right. Without doubt he could.
“We need a plan. What are the chances to running into her again?”
“Quite good. She knows the place and visited it before. She might come again on her way home.”
“If she dropped by on her way from work, it means she works or lives somewhere near.”
“Rather work. It’s not a living area.”
“...indeed.” Nobunaga thought about it and had to agree it made sense. No one lived in those huge glass buildings. While a residence at the top of such tower would be prestigious, it didn’t offer any homey feeling people needed to feel comfortable. Especially the people of the future. Most of them lived in small dwellings, and only a few in mansions, just like in his world. Only the reason they lived as they lived was different, but the dynamics seemed similar.
“It’s still early to leave work, isn’t it?”
“Yes, she probably left on time. She looked very tired though. I’d say it’s not the work abundance but quality what exhausted her. Especially considering the bitter look on her face.”
“It would be difficult to patrol the area to find her then, in the short time we would have.”
Sasuke didn’t respond to that, but Nobunaga could guess it was not a clever conclusion. He didn’t hit the mark. Again.
“First, we need to approach her.” Sasuke’s voice brought him back to reality. “So she doesn’t run away.”
“Would it be advisable to tell her my name?”
“I told her mine, no avail. She’d freak out if another famous name appeared. Let’s continue with Odakawa.”
“Fine.”
Nobunaga emptied his glass. So he’d have to remain under false name, even for her.
“We’d better leave it to her feelings.” Sasuke added with a slight hint of hope. “She could sense we’re acquainted, the more we talked. You’d be even more familiar probably, if you talk to her. Her memories might still be there.”
“We have to find her first. The last time you saw her was two years ago and didn’t manage to locate her in all this time.”
“Lord Nobunaga, did you miss how huge and crowded the cities are here in future?” He pushed his glasses with his finger like he always did when he heard something preposterous or annoying and had to correct Nobunaga’s way too easy thinking.
“Can you look into who does she work for?”
“...I’ll try.”
The hesitant answer gave Nobunaga quite a good glimpse into the chances of success. So it wasn’t possible after all in the future. He had to find another way to track her. And to do it in this short time all office workers finish work and head back home. With a possibility of work over hours.
Right now they didn’t have much but this small pub.
(Part 4)
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