a-mitsuhide-blog

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

kantoantxt:

She couldnt quite wrap her head around all that was happening, in that current moment. One minute, she had a giant fur coat placed around her shoulders, then the next, escorted into what she could only assume was a castle of sorts. Led by a small helper, she was placed in a large wash room, with a bath full of hot water. 

It was almost as if she herself, were royalty. She figured this was something out of a fairy tale, and that she would most certainly snap out of the little day dream, and find herself faced with that blue eyed man once more. Something about him felt…familiar. She couldn’t recall where she would’ve seen him, or if she even would have. Lost in thought, the next thing she knew, she was placed in a light blue Kimono. Looking at the woman helping her, she spoke softly. 

“Who is that man?” 

The woman blinked, dumbfounded. Instead of telling her a name, she just informed Leaf that he was a warlord, which Leaf assumed was something important. As her hair was being pulled back into a loose bun, Leaf wondered if she gave off the wrong impression. She was a foreigner, who knew little to nothing about the region. As she was led back into the main room, she looked at the woman once more. Giving Leaf a small nod, she exited the room. Clasping her hands in front of her, she gave a small smile. 

“Do you…uh, do that often?” She asked carefully, taking a step forward. “I’m not from this region, I’m quite confused.”

He lays eyes on her and feels the blood rushing to his cheeks. Perfect. Running a hand through his hair, he steps forward and says, “Welcome, my little bird. I am Mitsuhide, lord of this kingdom - Nixtorm.” He blinks and begins to chuckle. “Forgive me! It seems that your beauty was so captivating; I just...did what I usually do when I see someone of that stature. If I am making you uncomfortable in any way,”

A pause.

“Please let me know.”

 Mitsuhide returns to the window and gazes out of it. “What is your purpose of being here, my little bird?” he asks of the young woman, and smiles. The fan is still in his grip; he flicks it open, fans himself, showing her the ornate inlaid designs that the ornament held. “I can tell that you are not from around this region. Did someone send you here?” The last sentence, it escapes him a lot more gravely. Spies were the last thing he needed, though he trusted that the person before him was not of them.

He sighs. Gazes at her once more. 

“You are absolutely beautiful, in every way.”

snow bird;

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

Put 'Confess!' plus an accusation about my muse in my ask, and my muse will confess whether it's true or not!

Here’s some examples to start you off-

Confess! Are you turned on by [insert kink here]?

Confess! Do you like [insert name here]?

Confess! Is it true that you once [insert odd/silly activity here]?

Confess! Are you scared of [insert fear here]?

Confess! Did you cry during [insert movie here]

Or think of your own! Be as cunning as you like…

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

shooting star - mitsuhide & molayne

starter for @mocrosoftoffice

Curled fingers reach for the book perching on the topmost shelf, he manages to grab it with ease. Smiling, the young warlord walks around the place, eyes to the sky and ears to the ground. The bookstore is quiet, of which the few that are milling about are tending to their own business. A hum escapes his lips and he steps into a designated area to light a pipe.

As the smoke rises in curlicues, he removes the pipe from his lips and a huff and puffed grin escapes him. Once more, he is remains in the solitude of a large antique bookstore, of which mystery reigns supreme and any doubts can be fashioned from the musty old pages of the books that call this repository home.

Mitsuhide  takes another puff of the pipe, and exhales very, very slowly. His eyes are pinned to the sight of the smoke rising into the aether. How is it, he wonders, that a person like this, like myself, be in the solitude of my own company? How indeed? But here he is, being in the solitude of his own company. He smiles again, this time a little wider.

He peers out of his seated position within the smoker’s box, like a caged animal observing outwards, unable to break free. His eyes roam over the remaining few person in the bookstore and blue irises lock upon a curious man standing nearby him. So he extinguishes the pipe and leaves its remains in the box and heads out into the musty air. Black hair swept aside with trailing glances, he approaches the man and says, “Hello, may I ask to what you are perusing?”

The warlord feels exposed, having stepped from the safety of the box and into the unknown. Outside, night is falling and an observatory lies in the distant horizon. He really shouldn’t have come to Alola, if this was all he were to experience. But, he kept his mind open and ready for what this interesting man would surprise him with.

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

winter nocturne - mathew & mitsuhide

starter for @rockettheory

You wanna know me Well what’s to know? Do I amuse you When the night is slow? Do your eyelids ever close Caught spirits in your waking woes?

Eyelids flutter open. A dream. Just a dream. A young man just like him, working. He removes himself from the bed, slowly brings himself to the window where he gazes out, watches the skyline turn a myriad of colors in the winter dawn. Snow is falling, lightly. He gets dressed. Eats lightly with the retainers, served by the handmaids. He finishes, the plates are cleared and he walks out, the fan still within his grip. Today, he is to receive that young man. He is but one of many who have found this land and want to study it. But why would he come to him in a dream?

It is outside the castle grounds that he finds the young man waiting. His breath slows. It is cold. He is dressed in odd winter apparel but he still seems to be shivering. Today, it is colder than usual; he can feel it in himself. “こんにちは (Hello),” he begins, calling the servants waiting outside to bring in his bags. “Mathew-san, right? Welcome.” He slides the fan out of view into his pocket and bows; does not extend his hand. “Come,” comes as finality, and harshly, almost an order; he is concerned about the man standing there in the cold.

He turns away from Mathew and strides back into the castle grounds, the servants already preparing a feast for the young man. “Here,” he says to the seemingly nervous man, “take a right after the column and I’ll meet you for a quick meal soon.” He returns to his chambers, places the fan in a drawer, shuts and locks it. Just a dream… Meeting Mathew seemed like an everyday activity; he was used to diplomatic visits and this seemed just like one.

Despite this, the circumstances in which they would first correspond were a bit odd. He receives a letter by carrier pigeon, informing of a man named Mathew Jermain, wanting to spread the technology known as Technical Machines (TMs) to this region. Mitsuhide had initial thoughts about it, for his people did not have any use for such a thing but it was Mathew’s persuasion that led to today and the young warlord’s agreement.

He meets the man in the dining hall, where a sumptuous feast of fish, seasonal vegetables, chicken, pork and prawns lay on the table. “Please, Mathew-san, you can have as much as you’d like.” Rice is served in two china bowls inlaid with an Articuno design. Before allowing the man to speak, he adds on, “Thank you for coming. We look forward to having your services be put to good use.”

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

The retainers inform him that this region is noticeably more tropical than anything Nixtorm will ever experience and that the famed Battle Tree contains several “trainers”. According to further research, they were noted to be persons who had 6 Pokemon, not 2 and competed in turn-based battles.

So, here he is, curious and exhausted from the long ride aboard the cruise ship, when he notices that many people are staring at him. Bemused, he pays them no heed until a smaller woman with a noticeable aura of aggression steps forth does he notice the cowering passengers on board.

He ignores her as well; it’s none of his business until it becomes apparent that the words that leave her mouth are directed at him for none dare pipe up. Strange clothes? Likewise, madam. Her attire is rather odd as well and he guesses that she is not of this region as well.

“Mitsuhide,” he answers simply and turns away. The aura reminded him of when he served under Lord Nobunaga. It oft resulted in clashes between him and the higher ups. A small, sad smile worked its way to his features.

Perhaps she did want to speak to him for a specific reason, or it could simply be because she was curious about his origins as admittedly, he was of her. Regardless, the boat was docking and he walks away with his luggage, leaving a trail of applause in his wake.

He walks down the gangplank and it is no sooner than he makes the first few steps that he hears something that piques his interest and there it is, is…

dear stranger, who are you?

・ starter for @a-mitsuhide !!  ・ 

     Though Alola is smaller in comparison to other regions, it seems to be a hotspot for trainers and tourists alike. They flock to the warmer region, and she can say it is definitely warm, despite coming from the relatively warm region of Hoenn herself. Yet despite the warmth and the blaring sun unwaveringly scorching down on her back, Lucy still dons her regular outfit. Impractical for the weather, yes, but she wants to keep her signature apparel as she powers through the competition.

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[a-mitsuhide-blog]

Send ♣ for a drunk message ((on both!))

♣ for a drunk message

Maxie:

[text: Gladion]: hhhhh Alolan alcohol is the best

[text: Gladion]: look at me!! i’m swimming in the sea /o/

Mitsuhide:

[text: Great One]: ah forgive me but it seems that I might’ve left something at your abode. 

[text: Great One]: may I pick it up.

[text: Great One]: also, this stuff is much stronger than any sake I’ve ever had in Ransei; I’m starting to see doubles of you.

[text: Great One]: wait is that you in front of me?

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

✘ and ❤ for both!

Maxie:

✘ for an unsent text

[text: Mathew Jermain]: You know, it’s been so long since I’ve even picked up this phone and this first thing I think of is you. Thank you so much for bringing back what I lost. Thank you. 

❤ for a lusty/loving/affectionate message

[text: Mathew Jermain]: Hey kid, my house is past the Mart if you’re feeling cuddly. :)

Mitsuhide:

✘ for an unsent text

[text: こいびと; failed to send]: I don’t know how to use this piece of technology. Please help?

❤ for a lusty/loving/affectionate message

[text: こいびと]: I’m hungry. For you.

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

✉ OwO

For a 2AM text

[text: The Psychic Girl]: hello. it’s me. i was wondering if 

[text: The Psychic Girl]: you would like meet 

[text: The Psychic Girl]: right now to go over 

[text: The Psychic Girl]: my home? 

[text: The Psychic Girl]: I’m scared of the dark. 

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

💋+ whatever number for ya girl leaf 👀

No. 14 - on the collarbone

It comes softly, then harder and harder. From kisses to nips and he’s screaming with pleasure. Letting her loose, he thinks, is one of the best decisions he’s ever made. 

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

Send ✉ for an 2 AM text

Send ✘ for an unsent text

Send ☠ for a threatening message

Send ❤ for a lusty/loving/affectionate message

Send ♣ for a drunk message

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

W-what are your thoughts on TMs?

“We do not have such technological advancement like you do but I must say, artificially teaching moves to Pokémon? 

Fascinating.” 

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

How many wars have you fought in, Warlord?

“More than you’ll ever see in your lifetime.”

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

Cake or pie?

“I personally prefer mochi.”

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

| P O K E M O N   C O N Q U E S T |

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

Send 💋+ a number to kiss my Muse!

On the nose.

On the cheek.

On the forehead.

On the hand.

On the neck.

On the nape of the neck.

On the shoulder.

On the chest.

On the stomach.

On the knee.

On the ankle.

On the ear.

On the jawline.

On the collarbone.

On the lips.

[a-mitsuhide-blog]

The first snowfall arrives as he gazes from within the castle of Nixtorm. Today, he will go out into the populace, meet the people. It has been so many years since Nobunaga was defeated. He clutches his fan, and his knuckles turn white. It is cold.

He is dressed in the royal robes of Nixtorm, a swathe of blues and golds flowing languidly around his body. His hair, adorned with a simple hairpin right through the loose bun he had used to tie up some of his long locks. The rest flow until his waist.

I have failed you...I have...failed myself.

Sentiment.

He sweeps from the room. The castle echoes with his footsteps. Most are asleep this early in the morning. Before this, they had no rest. He regrets this. Again, he tells himself, he will go out and meet the people of Nixtorm, speak to them not as a ruler, but as an equal. He has no use for the fan but it is Nobunaga’s gift to him. He grips it, puts on a fur coat that a servant hands to him and heads out.

As he draws the coat tighter still, he looks up for a brief moment when he feels a body collide against him. Admonishment is his first point of action but he hears the young girl’s voice, and hesitates. She is dressed in clothing that is not of this region and an odd adornment rests upon her tiny wrist. “It is fine,” he begins, “are you alright? You seem cold.”

Here, he takes off the fur coat and places it on her small, slightly angular frame. The coat rests heavily upon her thin shoulders and the vast majority drags upon the snowy ground. He is of half a mind of telling her to join him, for she seems not of here and is currently in possession of his finest piece of apparel. He hesitates, is she perhaps a spy from another part of Ransei? Where light remains, shadows do not gather.   

She is light, he knows, somehow. “Come with me,” he asks of her as he gently leads her into the castle, whereby most occupants are already awake and beginning the day’s routine. There are whispers as he brings her into his inner chambers. A servant leads the young girl away from him, where he has prepared a fine bath for her.

Rubbing his temples, realises that he did not ask of her name. “Dress her well,” he tells the maidservant and she flushes and scuttles away.   

He realises what he has done, and sighs. He hopes she is not frightened.

snow bird;

starter for @a-mitsuhide

Closing another book, Leaf sighed. 

There she was, on a boat towards the Ransei region, with little information. Professor Oak had warned her beforehand, that they didn’t have much on the place, only that it was very traditional and quiet. They weren’t sure of the technological advances there either, which meant that communication wasn’t guaranteed. For all they knew, they could still be sending mail by letter. 

Even though she knew it was likely, she hoped that somehow she would be able to keep in touch with the professor, at least. Her mother was quite prepared for her daughters absence, and made sure to load her up with a few things from home. 

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