#ieysasu tokugawa
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Sasuke, D is for Dear, 🥹
Mitsuhide, S is for Secret, 🫣
Ieyasu, A is for Appetite, 😉
Kenshin, B is for Beauty, 😘
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For these please don't feel even a little bit like you need to do them, but if any catch your fancy and you just want to I won't complain! ❤️
I chose Ieyasu. I think he needed a little more love ^_^ I feel like this ended up being more 😘 than 😉, but here we go! Approx. 900 words.
Ieyasu felt an itch under his skin. Not literally. He would have preferred literal. An itch could be resolved. Scratched until satisfied. Treated with some medicine. Ignored, even. But this itch . . . tossed herself in his way every day. He could not find a place she did not haunt. And when she was not there in form, she was in his thoughts.
Her presence was driving him mad. He could not focus on work. His only escape was in the rigor of sword practice. Which was why the pale morning sun found him in the practice yard, faced off against Masamune.
“Again,” Ieyasu called, and lifted his sparring sword.
“Hungry for another round, lad?” Masamune laughed and came at him once again. So far, the one-eyed dragon held four victories to Ieyasu’s three. He probably thought the young warlord was hoping to draw even. If he really knew the reason . . .
Masamune’s practice blade caught him in the thigh. Ieyasu threw himself out of the way. His own sword whistled through the air in a wild slash that the dragon easily avoided.
“You getting tired?” Masamune’s grin was infuriating.
“No.” Ieyasu answered the challenge with a flurry of slashes, changing his stance in a whirlwind of motion. He was a good swordsman. Great, even. But so was Masamune. He only managed to drive the one-eyed dragon back, his edge catching nothing but air.
“Huh.” Masamune circled, looking for an opening. He wasn’t one to waste energy on an ill-timed strike. “Not tired then. Distracted?”
Ieyasu ignored the question. He lunged forward, but his attack was parried. He danced back to a defensive posture.
“Hmmm. But distracted by what?” Masamune’s grin widened. “If a man had to guess . . . I bet this distraction has big eyes and a sweet smile and hair that -”
“Shut up.” Ieyasu’s jaw clenched so tight it hurt. Was he so obvious? Or was the one-eyed dragon so intuitive? “I am not distracted.” He launched another attack and this time scored a glancing blow to Masamune’s side.
He laughed off the hit, and used the moment to create his own opening. Masamune’s sword slammed into Ieyasu’s upper shoulder. A hit that in a real fight might have been lethal. “No? Maybe just hungry then.”
“I ate.” Ieyasu ignored the sweat that trickled down his forehead and back. The throbbing pain in his shoulder and leg. He could feel the bruises there already swelling.
Masamune’s blue eye glinted with a fierce playfulness. “Sure, but it’s about what. Sometimes a man gets hungry for just one, specific thing.”
Ieyasu darted forward, another slash and another parry. He was not going to dignify this ridiculous line of conversation with a response.
“Nothing else will satisfy.” Masamune grunted as he repelled another attack. He leapt and shifted. “That hunger eats at you.” He brought his sword around to almost land another blow to Ieyasu’s damaged shoulder. “Nibbling at your spirit.”
“Nothing is nibbling!” Ieyasu barely managed to avoid being hit again. He went on another full out attack, and for a moment there was no conversation. Only strained breath and the screech of dulled edges sliding off one another.
Masamune took a hit to his arm, but ignored it. He lunged into the blow and used his momentum to knock Ieyasu off his feet. His sword came down fast, stopping just short of Ieyasu’s throat. The metal rested coolly against the blonde’s hot skin. “You can’t think until you sate it, lad.”
They shared a look. Ieyasu felt a tangle of burning emotions well up in his chest. Annoyance, affection, desire, shame . . . all of it coming too fast and hard to swallow down. These were feelings they both understood, a brotherhood of trauma, stress, and loneliness.
Masamune let him up.
Ieyasu stood and walked out. He barely noticed what he passed, where he was going. He wasn’t thinking, just moving. Letting his heart lead, in all its wildness and contradiction. His feet led him forward until he found himself there, standing in front of her.
She sat there with a swath of fabric in her lap, a needle and thread in hand. Her smile lit up her eyes as she saw him, so bright and sweet and naive.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Ieyasu held out his hand.
The chatelaine set down her work and took it, one brow rising in an unspoken question. A question that remained unspoken as he pulled her close. Holding her so tightly that neither could properly draw breath.
His mouth found hers, crushed her lips to his. She was so soft, so sweet. The taste on her lips of mint and tea and honey. The warmth of her tongue as she pushed past his barriers to return the kiss with the same passion that burned in him. Ieyasu thought, as he kissed her, that Masamune was so very wrong.
The hunger in him was only growing as he tried to satisfy it. Holding her, kissing her . . . he wanted more. He wanted all of her. Not just the feel of her body but the joy in her heart. The love in her gaze. Every sigh, every glance. She’d broken him wide open. Torn down his walls and left him bare and desperate.
When he finally drew back from the kiss, his lungs aching for air, he rasped three little words. ”I love you.”
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Ieysasu "that's my girl, touch her and die" Tokugawa 💛
#he can be so annoying sometimes but he loves tf out of mc and i respect him for being so sappy against his will 😋💖#tokugawa ieyasu#ieyasu tokugawa#ikesen ieyasu#ikesen ieyasu tokugawa#ikemen sengoku#ikesen#love is stronger than the sword#ikesen events#aerin.jpg#my post 📫#l'hôtel.ikesen#ikesen.ieyasu
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Ieyasu Tokugawa Masterlist
Ieyasu - Appetite -😉 - a little angst, a little spice
Ieyasu - Beauty - 🥺 - fluff and light angst
Ieyasu - Lie - 😩- angst.
Eskimo Kisses, Ieyasu, Sweet
Ieyasu Tokugawa - Surprise! - Magical Morning
Broken/Ieyasu/Angst
Gathering - fluff and light spice
Strength - MC has a stalker and Ieyasu offers comfort/support
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Strength
Ok, so this is for @ikemenlover but the ask has been eaten in my inbox. It's a good thing I copied it to my notes, huh? ^_^ Approx. 1400 words on the ask: Hey Can I have Fanfiction of Ieyasu tokugawa with MC who has a psycho stalker and hurts her very much and ieyasu taking care of injured MC?
Ieyasu followed the maid through the halls of Azuchi and into the chatelaine’s room. Despite the fact that it was a beautiful spring day, the windows were closed tight and she lay curled up on her futon beneath a blanket. The maid gestured silently, her face twisted with worry.
The warlord shooed her out and then knelt beside the bed. “Mai?”
She stirred, but only to pull the blanket over her head. “Leave me alone.”
“I would. But the maids are worried about you. They said you didn’t eat last night or today, and that you won’t get out of bed. So get up, and I’ll go away.”
“I will. Later.” She didn’t come out of the covers.
Ieyasu frowned. This wasn’t like her at all. Mai was cheerful. Annoyingly so. And full of energy, enough that he felt tired just talking to her. She always had a smile for him and a kind word. Always. Maybe she was really sick. “Now. I have to look you over and see if there’s something wrong.”
“I’m fine.”
“Then come out.”
“No.”
Annoyance blossomed in Ieyasu. He had a thousand things to do, and he did not have time to coddle her. His real fear was buried somewhere under that justification, his fear that something was very wrong here. With one strong pull, he tore the blankets from her grip and tossed them away from the futon.
Mai immediately turned away from him, but she could not hide the dried blood nor the stiff way her legs moved. “Dammit, Ieyasu! I don’t want you to look at me!”
“Mai . . .” Ieyasu felt all the air knocked out of him. He fought back a wave of panic that made the room seem smaller and darker than it was. “You’re hurt,” he rasped, and forced himself to take a breath.
“I said I’m fine.” He could tell she was crying now.
“Stop being an idiot and let me look at you.”
She went still, and for a moment he thought she would ignore him, but she slowly sat up. Her breath hitched as if the motion pained her. When she looked at him, he saw why she’d hidden her face. Her lips were split, swollen, and bruised. One eye was so puffy that she couldn’t open it. And she was cradling her wrist.
Ieyasu rocked back in shock. “What - what happened?”
“I fell.” The lie was so blatant that it hurt.
Though he wanted to know more than anything, right now it was more important to treat her injuries. He could find out how they’d happened later. He knew there was no fall that did this. “Alright. Let me . . . let me see.”
He took out his ointments and bandages, first cleaning the wounds on her face and then carefully treating them. The tear on her lips might leave a scar, he thought.
She winced at the sharp sting of the medicine as he worked. “Will that . . . make it go away faster?”
“It will, if I reapply it for you. Twice a day for the next week, at least.” He frowned at her, wishing she trusted him enough to be honest. Ieyasu moved to her hand. Several of her fingers were broken, the wrist sprained. Her nails were torn and bloodied as if she’d been fighting something. Or someone.
“What about my hand? I have to be able to sew.” She looked as if she might cry again.
Ieyasu gently stroked her forearm, the only part he was sure he could touch without hurting her. “You will. I wish you’d come to me right away though. This will hurt more, now that they’ve had time to sit like this. The bones out of place.”
It took a moment to pull them straight, and then to bind them so that they could heal. “I’ve had to do this several times. For Masamune, after a fight.” He glanced up at her face and saw fear there.
“I just . . . I fell. On my hand.”
“Mai. I’ve seen a lot of injuries. These aren’t the kind you get from falling.” He took her other hand and examined it. No broken bones, just some scrapes on her knuckles, and torn nails. He began to bandage them as well.
“Ieyasu. I can’t. I can’t say anything else. Or-”
“Or what? Mai, you have to tell me.” His eyes blazed with the intensity of his feeling, though his expression changed little. Something in his chest shifted, aching in an unexpected way as she met his gaze.
Her next words were so quiet that he almost couldn’t hear them. “He’ll hurt someone else.”
“He?” An irrational rage shot through Ieyasu. Irrational because it had no direction. He still didn’t know who had done this or why. “Who?”
“I . . . I don’t know his name.” She took a shaky breath. “I thought he was nice, at first. He helped me carry my shopping bags. But then he - he -” She started to tremble as if her body would rather shake itself apart than to continue.
Ieyasu carefully pulled her into an embrace. He held onto her as if she were made of the most precious, fragile porcelain, afraid he might crack her delicate exterior.
She clung to him, and the tears came. Great, heaving sobs that tore from her as if the act of crying itself hurt. Words came too, in that undammed flow. At first he could make no sense of them, but eventually the story came clear.
This man she’d met knew all kinds of things about her. Where she lived, who she associated with, what she ate and drank. He’d been watching her for weeks at least. And then made his move.
“H-he told me he hated . . . he hated that I could smile,” she cried. “Th-that he would hurt mmme until . . . until . . .”
Ieyasu gently stroked her back, letting himself express the emotions he was not ready to voice. He cared for her so much. Too much to see her like this. “Why,” he asked, when she finally quieted, “why didn’t you tell us? Me or Nobunaga? Anyone in Azuchi?”
“He said -” Mai took a long, slow breath, calming herself. “He said he would kill a servant if he even thought I told someone. I - I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. And, and now . . .” Her voice disappeared in another wave of helpless tears.
“I promise you, he is not going to hurt anyone.” Ieyasu wasn’t sure how to keep that promise, but he couldn’t let Mai sound so broken and hopeless. He would have to speak with Nobunaga. Somehow, they would keep everyone safe until this man was caught. And they would catch him. One way or another.
After taking a few minutes to get her tears back under control, she nodded. “I - I believe you.”
“Good.” He settled her gently back into the futon. “I am going to send for some food and while you eat, you are going to tell me everything about this man. What he looks like. Where you saw him. What did he wear. Every detail.” Ieyasu’s voice was cool, calm and collected as always. But anger simmered just below the surface. Anyone who could hurt a woman like this - much less one as sweet and naive as Mai . . .
“And when you are better, I am going to teach you some things. To make sure this never happens again,” Ieyasu added.
Mai gave an uncertain nod. “I don’t know if I can. I’m not very strong or fast.”
A remembered shame boiled in Ieyasu’s gut as he remembered his own helplessness and fear. He’d been a child then, and Mai was a grown woman, but it was the same feeling. The same problem. In this world, you had to grow hard and strong. Cruelty would not pass you by just because you were sweet. Beautiful.
“You can. If you are strong enough to learn.”
“I. . . I think I am. With you as my teacher.”
When her fingers curled around Ieyasu’s hand, he felt his heart lurch in his chest. A sudden, erratic pounding like a deer bounding across an open field, full of wildness. He pulled his hand back. “I’ll send for food. And get something to write on.”
This would not be easy. Catching her stalker. Training her to defend herself. But Ieyasu would not fail. He had to be strong. She needed him. And, in the echoes of his fierce heartbeat, he knew he needed her.
#ikemen sengoku#ikesen ieyasu#ieysasu tokugawa#tw violence#fanfiction#fanfic#otome#otome guys#hurt and comfort
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Ieyasu Lie 😩
for @ikemenlover! This is an angsty one. Approx. 900 words.
Ieyasu was numb. He knew he should feel something right now. Sadness. Anger. Betrayal. Anything. But all he felt was an exhaustion, as if any reaction would cost him more than he could bear. There was a knot in his gut, and this he assumed was the weight of all those feelings. They lay tied up with one another, too heavy to lift and too tangled to tease apart.
“If you want me to stay,” the chatelaine said, “tell me. Because I would stay for you.” Her eyes were damp with unshed tears and her lower lip trembled. She bit it, holding in her own emotions as best she could.
“Why would I care if you go? Home to another village or 500 years in the future, it doesn’t matter to me.” The lie sounded more certain said aloud.
She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. “Ieyasu . . .”
He clenched his fists against the sound of his name from her lips. She was so precious to him, this fragile, naive creature. Given to his care. He’d known he could never keep her. Staying here, with him, would break her. She would lose that sweetness and innocence. And he could never bear that. “I said go! Only a fool would cry over returning home.”
“I - I don’t care if I am a fool.” She tried to reach for his hand, but he stepped back. “I love you.”
Ieyasu could not help the breathless gasp, the sound of a man drowning, a man in pain. The words were a knife to his heart. Savage in their tenderness. His throat closed against the denial that sprang to his tongue.
“Tell me you care. Even just a little bit?” A tear escaped the corner of her eye, clinging to her lashes before rolling slowly down the curve of her cheek.
Everything in him wanted to pull her to his arms, hold her there and tell her a thousand times how much he loved her. To shower her with kisses and tease a smile from her lips. It tore his heart to pieces to hold silent now. But he would rather die than see her suffer. She had to go home. It was the only way to keep her safe, to make her happy.
“I don’t care about you,” he lied. “Go home and forget me. Forget all of this.”
Whatever she felt now, she would forget. He told himself this as he walked away. Made it a mantra against the sound of her crying. He repeated it even when he knew the scars in his own heart would never heal.
When he was alone, sequestered in his office and far from her and those desperate entreaties, he could still hear her voice. I love you. I love you. Every word, a thorn in his heart.
“Sir, the chatelaine’s possessions are packed,” a servant came by to let him know it was almost time.
“Why are you bothering me with that? I’m busy,” he snapped.
The servant bowed. “Yes sir. I understand.” He turned to leave but Ieyasu stopped him.
“Did she remember the earrings I gave her? I have no use for them. And the haori? That pink color suits her.”
“Yes sir. And her parasol as well. Everything you gave her.” The servant waited to see if Ieyasu wanted anything else.
He broodily stared down at the correspondence on his desk. None of it was urgent. Busywork. An feeble attempt at distraction. “When does she leave?”
The servant shrugged. “She did not say.”
Ieyasu knew though. When the storm came. The one that would take her back through time. He dismissed the servant with a gesture and then sat in moody silence. This was for the best. She should go while she could.
His mind cruelly replayed the day he gave her those pearl earrings. The surprise on her face even as he gruffly told her it was a reward for archery practice. Another lie. Their time together was riddled with his lies. Eaten up by them. He was not made for such a gentle creature, nor for the affection she showed.
As his mood turned to melancholy and guilt, the sky overhead turned dark with storm clouds. The golden afternoon light turned grey and fat drops of rain began to drum across the roof and the windows. Ieyasu stood and began to pace. It would happen soon, he thought.
Outside, the world grew darker still, and a terrible wind shook the eaves and tore the leaves from branches.
How much longer, Ieyasu wondered, before she was safe from his reach forever. Gone to a place he couldn’t follow. The thought of never seeing her smile again made his eyes ache. Before he could consider it, he was already moving. Out the door and into the wildness of the storm.
He would let her go, he promised himself. But he wanted to watch. For her safety. He plunged into the tearing rain, his hair plastered to his head despite the buffeting winds.
The chatelaine stood beside a tall shrine in the center of town. The only figure out in this weather. Her pale kimono was stark against the darkness, giving her an ethereal look. A spirit haunting the tempest.
Ieyasu watched as the darkness thickened around her. This was it. She had not lied. He could see her form waver, as if she wasn’t really there. As if he’d only imagined her. With a shout, he lunged toward her, unable at the last to sit by and let her go.
“I love you,” he cried, and the words were torn away by the wind. Lost. He reached for her, but his hand passed into nothing and he was alone. Alone with his lies. Alone with his broken heart as all the tangled emotions in him came undone. He wasn’t numb anymore, but it was too late. Far too late.
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