#I wonder what her salted rice balls are like? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wangsejabin · 1 year

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Chapter 59

Pan'er looked out at the rain.The rain was beating against the banana leaves outside the window, and at first glance the sound was miscellaneous, but when she listened carefully she could hear a special rhythm.

She reached out for a moment and the cold rainwater wet her hands, making her subconsciously flinch, but then she went to reach out again, and Aunt Qing came over and said that she was still childish and wanted to close the window, but she stopped her. That was when the Prince walked in. "Your Highness." Pan'er called as she turned, making a move to get up, when the Prince had come close and held her down. "What are you doing?"

Seeing that her hands were still covered with rain droplets, and remembering the scene he had seen when he came in, the Prince took the handkerchief from Xiang Pu and wiped her dry, then put it in his hands and rubbed it hot."You're not a child." "I am a child." She said it with a straight face, crossed her arms, raised her belly slightly, and wrinkled her nose, making the Prince laugh again, under the illusion that he had raised a daughter.

" Alright, you're a child." He distracted himself by saying to Aunt Qing, "Isn't it time for your meal, order someone to pass it up." Then he went inside and changed into his homely clothes before the two walked outside together.

The evening meal was still very generous. The dishes included duck gizzards in Shao wine, baked bran with assorted ingredients, fire cube with honey sauce, beef roasted in wine, pigeon baked in salt, and fish mouth in sauce. Most of the dishes were Huaiyang dishes, all of which she loved, and probably because it was raining and cold today, there was also a one-pint pot.

The so-called one-pin pot is a soup pot, and there is no standard of what must go into this dish, it's all spontaneous. But the Jiang family's cooks do a fine job, and this one-pin pot has been eaten twice before by Pan'er, with chicken and duck and fish balls, meatballs, whole pigeons, and probably some other things that she doesn't know about.

All in all simmered into a pot, simmered soft and creamy soup, when the pot is simmered, put in several kinds of seasonal green vegetables, mountain mushrooms, dried silk, bamboo shoots, sliced chicken, shredded ham, etc.. The soup was so thick and fragrant, and the vegetables so fresh, that Pan'er could drink two bowls of soup and eat a bowl of rice with the soup.

When the Prince saw her eating like this, he was disapproving of her, saying that only puppies and cats would eat like this. But Pan'er liked to eat like that. The second time, the Prince stopped, knowing that it was useless to talk about it.

This time, as expected, Pan'er asked Xiangpu to serve her a bowl of soup. As she drank the soup, her body was warmed up. She couldn't eat it herself and asked the prince to watch. She also asked Xiang Pu to give him a bowl of soup, but he refused. In all seriousness, the soup was well made and fresh enough, but when the Prince saw it, he remembered the way Pan'er used it to soak his rice and eat it.

"There is nothing wrong with eating this way, many people in Yangzhou eat rice in soup, we have a dish here called nine silk soup, in fact, this dish is similar to nine silk soup, that is, it is also a soup and a dish, it is right to eat the dish with rice."

Anyway, whatever Pan'er said became a bunch of sophistry, which the Prince had only recently discovered. Because of her gags, the prince, who did not stop eating and did not say a word, had changed a little and did not say nothing during meals. When he saw her eating with her eyes narrowed and her face enchanted, the prince wondered if the East Palace's kitchen was still not up to scratch, and was tempted to let the Jiang family have two cooks sent over when he left.

After the meal was finished, Pan'er was full again. But it was raining outside today, so there was no place for her to go for a walk, so she had to go around the house. The prince went to drink tea and read the newspaper, while she went around the house, not stopping to open the window every now and then to look outside. At one point, I heard her say to the servants, "I don't know how long this rain will last."

At another time she said, "The rain has finally stopped." But it was dark by then, so naturally she couldn't go out, and she tossed back to make her little dress. Yes, Pan'er had found herself another job in the last few days, making clothes for the children. The Jiang family had sent her a lot of fabric, and after a few days of careful selection, she finally chose some of the most inconspicuous fine cotton cloth, and asked Xiang Pu and the girls to help her cut it into palm-sized pieces, in the name of making clothes for the unborn child.

Don't ask the Prince how he knew this, he was just like this when Pan'er was tossing and turning, drinking tea and reading the confidential papers. He remembered that at first she had cut out a lot of fabric, and then the oddly shaped pieces of fabric got smaller and smaller, and eventually there were just a few left in her hand.So the Prince had come to the conclusion that she was not good at needlework.

But it didn't matter, she didn't need to do the sewing anyway, there were plenty of people down there to do it. The Crown Prince had been busy for a while and was afraid that she would be too bored in the courtyard, but now she seemed to be too good at finding things for herself to do. Pan'er worked on her needlework for a while and then tossed her things aside, without the Crown Prince worrying that she would hurt her eyes if she stared at them for too long or anything.

She was just a tea's worth of heat, and also the needlework didn't work, so she got frustrated with it and just didn't want to do it anymore, and then she threw it away. According to her, she was in no hurry, there was still so much time before the baby was born anyway, and the prince doubted that when the baby was born, her little garment would not necessarily be ready.

Because of this, he also told Zhang Laishun to tell Aunt Qing to keep an eye on it and find two good embroiderers to make it all together after a while. In fact, without Zhang Laishun's reminder, Auntie Qing knew that she had taught Pan'er how to do everything, but not needlework. When Pan'er ran out of things to occupy herself with, she came to work with the Prince.

She couldn't win at chess and she couldn't win at backgammon, so she had recently found a new game - playing five pieces.The origin of Go is even older than Weiqi, but unfortunately it is so simple that not many people play it, and many families use it as a primer for young children to learn Go.

However, it is said that when Go was introduced to the Japanese, it became very popular there and was played by all men, women and children. This is said to be what Pan'er had heard in his previous life. In fact, if you play it seriously, you will find that Go is very interesting.

Firstly, it is simple, you don't have to count ten moves like in Go, but of course you don't have to count, you just don't have to think too hard. The second is that you can win or lose very quickly, so you don't have to be as patient as you are in Go. Pan'er usually has to move first, and then the Prince will move again. After she has played three pieces in a row, she will find that her way is blocked by the Prince, and she will then adopt the routine of killing the teacher with her fists, moving randomly and just trying to block the Prince's way.

She was so interested in winning that she usually won five out of ten games. But it is said that she usually wins, but in fact she is not aware that someone has let her win. Usually she repented when she made a mistake, and the Prince told her many times that she was not a true gentleman to repent and that she had no regrets at the start. When she could not, she would pretend to be pathetic, and then the Prince would give in and let her repent. The time passed slowly in this way, and just as Pan'er yawned for the first time, a sudden sound of a zither came from outside.

She perked up as if she'd had a cocktail of blood. "Here we go again!" At this point, the Prince was a bit tearful, always feeling that the more he got to know her, the more faces she had, like digging for a treasure with many things hidden inside, and with every shovel, there was always a surprise coming out.

It could also be called a shock, after all, sometimes Pan'er's reaction was a bit unusual, and the Prince was quite puzzled anyway. Just like now. It was not the first time that the sound of the zither had appeared, it had been there for almost half a month, and it was clear that the person playing the zither was highly skilled, one of the best the Prince had ever heard. Who was the player? Who had nothing better to do than to play the zither at night?

The prince was not curious, but Pan'er asked Zhang Laishun to find out, and the result was Jiang Qiong, the sixth daughter of Jiangcheng. When it came to Jiang Qiong, according to Zhang Laishun's enquiries, the Jiang family praised her from top to bottom, saying that she was the most beautiful woman in Yangzhou, that she was gentle, virtuous and generous, and that everyone had good things to say about her.

What does such a young lady want when she stays up at night and plays the zither in a nearby pavilion?In fact, everyone knew that Pan'er should have been jealous again. But she wasn't jealous, she was like a rooster's blood every time she heard the sound of the zither, and even asked the prince to appreciate it. Her reaction was not like that of a woman.

The prince even suspected that she had been opening the window to see if it had stopped raining just because she was waiting for the sound of the zither.Not to mention the fact that Jiang Qiong was playing the zither outside in the early spring chill on such a rainy day, but Pan'er had only cheered up a little before she started yawning again.

It was time to rest, and it was best to sleep on a day like this when it wasn't too hot or too cold. She seemed to be a bit sleepy lately. The Prince thought to himself as he glanced at her. When she washed up and went to the couch, Pan'er went to lie down inside, but the sound of the zither outside was still lingering, with a faint hint of sorrow, as if to say that it was difficult to find a soulmate in a high mountain and flowing water.

The prince was curious, "Why is the little jealous girl not jealous this time?" Pan'er was waiting for the prince to say this, she guessed he would not be able to hold it in. "Why should I be jealous?" The prince half leaned back on the pillow and glanced at her with a 'stop pretending, I'm waiting for you to be jealous' look. Of course this was what Pan'er read from the Prince's expression, with some of her brainstorming thrown in, but she certainly wasn't telling the truth. She also came to her senses and sat up, legs crossed, with the look of someone who wanted to have a long talk with the Prince.

She was still a little confused when the prince glanced at her stomach and Pan'er became a little embarrassed, she was nowhere near her stomach, it wasn't showing at all, how could she possibly be nesting. Still, the Prince was so considerate that she was endlessly flattered and obediently moved closer to his arms. "I don't understand, why would Your Highness think I would be jealous?"

" Aren't you?"

"Your Highness hasn't even seen what she looks like, just because of the sound of a zither, why should I be jealous? Is it great to know how to play the zither? I am not extremely good at the zither, but I can still play a few pieces, so why should I be jealous of her?" The prince didn't say anything, but was clearly saying that was the case.

"Besides, if everyone says it's good, there must be something fishy in it. I was the prettiest little girl in the area where we lived when I was a child, not to boast, but I was good looking and polite and understanding, and all those older women and aunts praised me in front of people. "

"What do you think? I've also been told that I don't look like my father, that I must have been born in secret when my mother went back to her mother's house, and that my mother went back to her mother's house for so long because she resented my father's incompetence and ran away with someone else, and then they didn't want my mother anymore, so my mother returned with me in tow."

Pan'er evened out her breath and continued, "You see, it's the ordinary people in the city, there are so many rights and wrongs, you can't say that human nature is evil, but only that some people don't mind watching the hilarity, anyway, everything that doesn't make sense can make them speculate some story."

"The place where my family used to live, which Your Highness has never seen, is the most dilapidated place in the entire Yangzhou city, dirty and messy. The people who lived there were all the lower class people in the city, all hard workers, bathers who gave baths to people, Taoist nuns who pretended to be gods and spirits, blowmen who played at red and white ceremonies, dog-skin plaster sellers who walked the streets, and landlubbers who cheated, or the lower nine as they were often called. "

"The adults were so busy making a living that they neglected the children. The children and adults in the house have to be clean to be comfortable. But in that kind of place, if you're clean you don't fit in. You'll attract people's eyes, plus my father that wooden person, to put it nicely could be called simple and having no temper, to put it bluntly called a henpecked coward.

"If a man can't stand up, a woman has to be strong, otherwise the family will be bullied there, so everyone in the neighborhood has experienced my mother's strength. Plus my brother and I, we're one of the best among the kids, and when you add up a few things, there are people who see what's going on. My mother fought several women over it, saying she would tear their mouths off." Pan'er got excited and boasted.

She realised that she had spoken too much, and smiled shyly at the Prince, and hurriedly got to the point: "What I mean by this analogy is that this is the norm, that it is impossible for something to be perfect, and that if someone says it is good, there are bound to be others who say it is bad for various reasons. What is the one thing that is said to be good? We are now living in the Jiang family's garden and everyone's name is Jiang, so we can't believe everything we hear."

The prince also became interested and looked at her, "After all you've said, you want to say that the Jiang family's girls are not as virtuous and generous as Zhang Laishun has inquired, but also not as gentle and decent, and extremely beautiful as they've said."

Pan'er nodded her head, "That's pretty much it." The prince laughed, but did not say anything. She was annoyed by his laughter and pouted, "Am I not right?"

"Yes, why not, I just realised you are very clever."

"I've always been clever." Seeing that the prince was silent again, she became annoyed again,

"Isn't that so? Doesn't Your Highness think I'm clever?"

"A little bit clever."

"Just a little clever?" The Prince chuckled,

"Well, a little more than a little clever."

"That's all?"

"Isn't that enough? You've told such a long story, you're just turning the corner and saying that people are not as good as they say they are," the Prince was speaking slowly, but when he saw the first signs of her annoyance, he sped up his speech,

"The point is that I think it's quite reasonable. " "Your Highness also thinks I have a point?" She looked at him, looking quite serious. The prince nodded, and she burst into laughter, snuggled into his arms and stopped talking, extraordinarily obedient. "After all is said and done, it's still a little jealousy." The prince murmured.

#mtl #yingchong

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annyllel · 5 years

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See what happens when you go wandering in people’s homes?! Sometimes you can hear some interesting--and amusing--stuff!

#breath of the wild #the legend of zelda #botw #gerudo town #link #risa #npc #tloz #tloz botw #she's practicing #don't you get a kick out of those dummies?#there are more of them at the school #I love risa #she's great!#great fun too!#I wonder what her salted rice balls are like?#screenshots #botw screenshots #I am op

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tsukishumai · 3 years

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pairing: miya osamu x gn!reader genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, slow burn word count: 3.2k summary: In which Osamu finds that the stranger lurking outside his store window has a connection to his restaurant that he could have never expected.

Osamu remembers every single face that has walked through the doors of Onigiri Miya since the day they’ve opened. He has yet to hire another worker, manning all stations of his business himself. The rush hours always provided him with a bit of a heavy work load, but Osamu has learned a lot about diligence and patience. Business had been good enough; traffic was steady throughout the day, and he had his fair share of regulars whose orders he had already memorized.

The stuffy, salt-and-pepper haired man in the pressed three-piece suit always ordered two umeboshi onigiri and a medium iced green tea. The kind old woman that ran the shop across the street would come in for his salted salmon, and if he had extra, Osamu would throw in an extra tuna mayo. She’d always smile and give him a pat on the shoulder, her eyes crinkling in a way that reminded Osamu of his grandmother.

It was when the shopkeeper had slowly walked out of his establishment and back to her own that Osamu noticed you standing a few feet away from his storefront. You had been wearing a face mask, but Osamu could see that you were staring at his sign. Your eyes squinted at the block letters that looked down at you, before they trailed down to land directly on Osamu. You seemed a little startled at the fact that his eyes were already staring at you, but you were standing outside his restaurant, weren’t you?

Before he could lift a hand to wave you in, you quickly turned and walked away.

Every few days, either during the dinner or lunch rush, Osamu would catch a glimpse of you outside of his restaurant. You’d stare at his sign for a few seconds; maybe glance at the menu board that stood a few feet away from his entrance, or look at the pictures of his full menu taped to the restaurant window. he would see the way you studied each item, yet you always walked the opposite direction.

It bothered Osamu. Why didn’t you want to come in? Did his menu look boring? Was his sign uninviting? Is his decoration too traditional? Should he have made it look a little more modern? He grumbled to himself about it each time you peeked in, and walked away. Why do you bother coming so often if you didn’t want to try his food? Osamu huffed.

It wasn’t until four weeks later, when Osamu had posted three brand new flavors on his menu board that you finally deemed his restaurant worthy enough to step in.

You had stopped by a little bit later than usual today, the dinner rush had come and gone, and the only ones left in the restaurant were you and Osamu. He stood patiently waiting behind his counter, desperately trying to look busy and as if he hasn’t been waiting for this moment for weeks.

He waited until you were close enough to his counter to say his greetings. You nodded at him in acknowledgment, taking a seat at the bar in front of him. He handed you a menu, and your eyes roved over the words as if they hadn’t done so dozens of times prior.

“Can I get ya anything to drink?” He asked, and you took off the baseball cap you had been wearing, setting it down on the counter beside you. Your finger hooks along the ear loop of your face mask and Osamu realizes he’s seeing your face for the first time. You place the piece of cloth in your pocket, and Osamu fights the heat across his cheeks.

“Just water,” you said, and Osamu was quick to set a fresh glass down in front of you.

“What’ll it be?” He asked after a few moments, adjusting the bill of his hat and settling his hand on his hip.

You hum a little, tapping your finger against your lips before you reply. “I’ll have the combo #2 with the gyoza.”

Osamu nodded, “What two flavors onigiri would you like?”

“For the first one, I’ll have your most popular flavor,” you say, before closing the menu and handing it back to him, “I’ll let you choose the second one.”

Osamu raised an eyebrow at your odd request, but nods anyway, putting the menu away and walking back to give his hands a quick wash.

He begins to gather his ingredients when he noticed you take out a notepad and a pen from your bag, placing it on the counter in front of your water.

“So,” he says, starting the process of making his number one seller (salted salmon), “What was it?”

“Excuse me?” You asked, pausing the drink that was half way to your lips. “What was what?”

“Well, ya stood outside for weeks, so I gotta know,” Osamu said, placing the delicate filling into the ball of rice he was kneading in his palm, “What made ya decide to finally come in?”

You tightened your lips, awkwardly setting the cup back down on the counter and placing a palm on your forehead.

“I was that obvious?”

“Were ya trying not to be?” He laughed, looking at you expectantly.

“It was the flavors on your board,” you finally replied, leaning back in your seat, “There was one that my grandfather used to make.”

Osamu smiled to himself, wrapping his first finished onigiri in the seaweed he had roasted earlier that day, placing it gently on a serving platter and moving over to make the next rice ball.

“That’s a coincidence,” Osamu said, “Your grandfather must have had great taste.”

“He used to own a restaurant,” you blurted out, and Osamu hummed.

“You’re kidding,” he said, “Whereabouts?”

You nibbled on your bottom lip, shifting your eyes side to side as if debating on whether you wanted to divulge him in your greatest secret. Eventually, you leaned forward, resting your elbow on the counter and placing your chin in your palm. “Actually, it was this one.”

Osamu’s fingers froze. “Ya don’t mean—?”

You nodded excitedly. Osamu lets out a scoff. “Now you’re just messin’ with me.”

“No, I swear!” A bright smile erupted across your cheeks as you jumped a little in your seat, “My grandparents used to own this restaurant.”

“I thought this was a boutique before I bought it?” Osamu questioned, putting his final touches on the second rice ball.

“It was,” you agreed, taking a sip from your water, “They owned this place until I was in high school, and sold it before they retired somewhere in the mountains. It’s been a few different stores since, but this is the first time it’s become a restaurant again. I was pretty surprised when I first saw it.”

Osamu felt an odd sensation of pride began to brew in his chest, shown in the way he sprinkled his sesame seeds a little extra forcefully.

“Well,” he said, placing the plate of two perfect onigiri right on the counter in front of you, “I hope I do this place some justice.”

You smiled, and Osamu found himself smiling with you. He pointed out the shake on the left, and the surprise flavor on the right. You nodded, intrigued, picking up the onigiri lying on the left side.

Osamu makes the gyoza while you take your first bite, nearly pumping his fist in victory when he sees you close your eyes in satisfaction, the tension he didn’t even know you carried slowly melting from your shoulders. He sees you quickly jot down comments on the notepad next to you, and Osamu tries to peek at what you wrote when he gives you the gyoza.

“Ya jottin’ down comments about my food?” He joked, and you jumped a little at his voice, “Got any suggestions, then?”

You smile sheepishly, “It’s just a little hobby of mine.”

He nods, grabbing a towel and wiping down the counter that he had just used. “Well, ya let me know if ya need anything else.”

“It’s just you working tonight?” You ask, grabbing your chopsticks and picking up a piece of gyoza.

“It’s just me every night,” he chuckled.

Your eyes widened as you chewed on your food, swallowing with a loud gulp.

“Doesn’t that get exhausting?” You ask, quickly jotting down your notes before diverting your attention back to him.

Osamu just shrugged. “I poured my everything into something I didn’t love half as much as cooking. This is just how I know how to do things.”

You tilted your head to the side, “What did you do before this?”

Osamu takes a deep breath as he lifts his hat up a little bit to ruffle his fingers through his hair. He flips the cap around and puts it on backwards, his vision no longer half covered by the bill of his hat and he can now look at you fully. He almost wants to laugh because no one has ever asked him that version of this question before. It was always, ‘What are you going to be doing after volleyball?’

He hated the fact that any answer other than ‘I’m going to play professionally’ was deemed a shame, or a waste. For Osamu, he didn’t want to waste another second not pursuing his passion.

So it was refreshing to tell you about volleyball as if it was just a footnote in his food journey; something that he had done prior to finally recognizing his actual potential.

You gawked at him in disbelief, “Volleyball? Were you even any good?”

Osamu actually recoiled in offense, “I’ll have ya know I was on a team that went to nationals three years in a row.”

You raised your eyebrows appreciatively, and Osamu straightened a little.

“So why food?” You question him again, and Osamu wonders if you’re always this inquisitive. He’s answered this question hundreds of times, swore up and down that he would shoot the next person that even dared to say ‘Why food?’ in front of him. Yet for some reason, he felt more than happy to divulge you.

“Because food is more than just something ya eat when you’re hungry. It’s coming back from a long trip, and it’s the warmth that spreads through your body when ya eat your mom’s cooking for the first time. That taste of victory that spreads across your tongue when ya go out for a meal with your pals after a game. The sensation of closing your eyes in satisfaction when ya take a bite out of a fresh onigiri after a long day,” you pause your scribbles at that moment, looking up to shoot him a playful glare. Osamu chuckled and continued, “It’s laughter shared around the table, and memories made over a plate that makes food more than just nourishment for our body, but also for our soul.”

Osamu feels his cheeks heat up as he finishes his speech, embarrassment beginning to sink in at the end of his long tangent. You looked at him with a soft look on your face as you finished the last bite of your first onigiri, and dusted your fingers from any stray grains of rice.

“Words to live by,” you commented, lifting your glass of water up in agreement before tilting it back for a drink.

He let out a breath of relief that lasted only a second when he saw you reach over to pick up the onigiri with toppings he picked out for you. He held his breath as you took a bite, not expecting to see your eyes widen so fast, snapping your head down to the innocent rice ball that now sported a bite mark.

“Shio kombu cheese?” you say hurriedly, holding the onigiri closer to your face.

Osamu steps forward, “Do ya like it?”

You take another bite, chewing slowly, savoring the flavors as they melded in your mouth, and your eyes nearly begin to water.

“I never thought someone other than my grandfather would be weird enough to come up with this,” you laughed, scarfing down the rice ball in less than two seconds. “Yet here it is.”

“It’s not weird,” he defended, “It’s refined.”

You laugh as you dive into a story from your childhood spent sitting in this exact restaurant. Osamu listens intently as you recount how many different failed recipes your grandfather had forced you to ty and review, helping him decide what to put on the menu, or which combinations would bring in the businessmen that always seemed to just walk passed the restaurant.

He tells you of the tantrum his brother threw when he told him he was quitting volleyball, but still, Atsumu was his first sale. You pester him about his secret ingredient, and give him an incredulous look when he says it’s the rice. (“My old volleyball captain is a rice farmer.” “… what an interesting volleyball team.”)

The furniture was different, and the lay out was unfamiliar, but the atmosphere around Osamu’s counter had brought you right back into your childhood, reminding you of all the reasons why you loved what you did in the first place.

Long after your plates had been emptied, and the hour hand on the clock had extended way passed closing time, you finally paid for your meal, stood up from your seat and prepared to take your leave.

“Thank you for the meal, and the conversation,” you lean forward to read his name tag, “Miya-san.”

“Osamu,” he corrects, and raises an eyebrow at you.

You tell him your name, and Osamu repeats it in his mind over and over again.

“Come back soon,” he calls out his usual greeting as you walked out the door, but it felt different when he said it to you.

“I will,” you smile, waving a hand before stepping into the night, leaving Osamu with a dizzy head and fluttering stomach.

��･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

In the following weeks since his late night encounter with you, Onigiri Miya had ceased to be a simple stop along someone’s route to work, or an afterthought on the way home.

One could imagine Osamu’s surprise when he arrived an hour and half before he was due to open, and already a line began to form down the sidewalk. He thought, perhaps it was a fluke, or maybe there was some sort of business convention in town nearby – something to explain the sudden spike in popularity.

Yet day after day, the crowds of people came to him by the dozens, climbing over each other to get a taste of his cooking. He couldn’t stop to wonder how long this was going to last, barely having the time to stop and give himself a break.

He finally realizes it’s not merely coincidence when the lines get longer, yet the faces he sees stay the same. Osamu remembers every single face that walks through the doors of Onigiri Miya, and it’s the ones that he sees over and over that truly give his restaurant its meaning.

The last customer of the dinner rush left thirty minutes ago when Osamu’s phone rang.

“‘llo,” he greets, sandwiching the phone between his ear and shoulder as he sweeps the floor, thinking about how he needed to start looking for someone to hire.

“Hey, asshole,” the voice of his twin comes through loud and clear, “When were ya gonna tell me ya invited that food blogger to your restaurant? And how the hell did ya get them to like your garbage cooking?”

Osamu stops in confusion, grabbing the phone and holding it up himself. “Did ya finally get hit in the head a little too hard at practice? What the hell are ya talking about?”

Atsumu curses at Osamu, telling him to hold on a second as he sends him the link.

Osamu pulls the phone away from his ear for a second, quickly pressing on the blue url that popped up from Atsumu’s chat bubble.

It took a second for it to load, but when it did, Osamu’s jaw dropped

ONIGIRI MIYA IS AN ONIGIRI MUST HAVE by L/N Y/N

Beneath the obnoxious title was a photo of his sign, shining brightly against the wooden panels of his building, looking very much like a beacon for those searching for the perfect plate.

“Your shop is all over the internet and I had to find out about it on my news feed?! What the hell kinda brother are ya...”

Atsumu’s voice faded into the background as Osamu read the flattering words you had written about his restaurant. You complimented the decoration he had been insecure about, and he chuckled at the way you had described the fluffiness of his rice. He was captivated by your use of prose, painting the perfect picture of exactly everything he wanted his food to convey.

It wasn’t until he got to the last paragraph when he felt his breath hitch in his throat.

Though the years have passed, and the season have changed, the sentimentality of this particular shop had never lost its meaning for me. For the first time in years, I felt the soul of my grandfather, the curator of my inspiration and passion, all around the atmosphere of what is now Onigiri Miya. I have every faith that the new owner has already done him justice.

“Excuse me, are you still open?”

Osamu tore his eyes away from the screen, the very author of the only review that will ever matter to him stood a mere few feet away from his counter.

“Call you later, Tsumu,” he said hurriedly.

“Hey, wh—“

Osamu slips his phone back into his pocket, turning his attention back to you. You had a cheeky smile on your face as you waited patiently.

“Welcome to Onigiri Miya,” he says dryly, and you laugh at his tone.

“Should you be on your phone while you’re on the clock?” You joke as you settle in the same seat you occupied the last time you paid him a visit.

“I don’t know,” Osamu crosses his arms, “Should ya be writing articles about people without telling em?”

You winced a little at his words, holding your hands up in surrender. “You saw it then?”

Osamu nodded.

You looked to the side, rubbing the side of your arm. “Did you like what I wrote?”

Osamu smiled, uncrossing his arms and walking to the back to wash his hands. You watch him curiously as he walked back to you, and pointed to a spot on the wall directly to your right.

“That’s where I’m gonna put it,” he said, “when I print it out and frame it.”

You laughed at the seriousness of his face, and he smirked in satisfaction.

You ordered the combo #2 with a side of gyoza, letting Osamu pick the two flavors. You mentioned how you tried to visit a couple of times, but the line was always so far out the door. He realizes that he has you to thank for that, and you blush deeply when he sincerely tells you so.

“So,” you say as you munch on the honey garlic pork onigiri he prepared, “Aren’t you glad you did this instead of boring, old volleyball?”

Osamu nearly chokes at the insult. “Volleyball is not boring.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he says, clearing his throat, “Let me take you to a game some time. We can eat something other than rice balls.”

You look up from the half eaten onigiri at the chef who made it so carefully, looking so bashful and nervous you couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah. I would love that.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

thank you for reading! reblogs are highly appreciated <33

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iidigestive-readerii · 2 years

Text

Midnight Talks and Morning Chats: Chapter Five

Read Chapter Four: Here

There were some similarities between herself and Aang. Some, not many.

Waking up at dawn was certainly one of them. She had always been a light sleeper - even lighter since the Boiling Rock.

The floorboards barely creaked as Aang walked by, probably using his bending to make his footsteps quieter. He'd taken to taking a morning walk every day since they had come to the beach house. There was too much on the kid's mind..

She'd taken to making breakfast every morning. It was the least she could do, after everything the gang had done for her.

Pushing back the covers, Suki made to get up - only to feel the arms tighten around her waist.

"No…comfy," Sokka mumbled, dropping his head into the middle of her back. "Stay."

"Do you wanna make breakfast?"

He groaned, releasing her and rolling over. His hair was loose, spreading over the pillow. "No…"

Snickering, Suki stood and stretched. Sleeping in an actual bed was…disorienting. Pushing the thought away, she quickly dressed and left the bedroom. The moon was still visible when she passed the windows, just…hanging there. Watching her.

The halls were quiet, save for some snoring echoing from some of the bedrooms.

She stilled, staring back at it. The moon spirit…had been a person. A princess. Someone that Sokka loved and couldn't protect.

Yue.

No wonder Sokka was so protective of her. The pain in his voice last night had been heartbreaking as he described what happened the night the sky went red.

He'd already lost one lover…and for awhile herself as well.

A slight breeze wafted through the house, making the air smell like salt and jarring her from her thoughts. If she closed her eyes and inhaled, it nearly reminded her of home.

Nearly.

Remains of dinner were still in the kitchen, the dishes drying near the washing pot - and there was Aang, setting the kettle methodically and lighting a flame underneath with a finger.

"You're still here." Suki went to uncover last night's rice, smiling when Momo scurried over to her and demanded to be pet. She scratched his chin before taking a pan from the drying dishes and setting to work rolling the rice into balls. Yaki Onigiri and some fruit leftover from last night sounded good.

Aang nodded, staring at the kettle. The bags under his eyes were dark. "Didn't sleep well…wanted some tea to take during my walk."

There was an unspoken agreement in the look they shared: don't talk about the war, about Sozin, the comet, Boiling Rock…anything but that.

Momo chattered, bringing them back to reality. He held a paw out, asking for some rice. A happy purr left him when she dropped a small ball of rice into his paw.

"...is the play off limits?"

"Suki…"

"It should have been a musical." Suki clapped a hand over her mouth while he groaned, trying to keep her laughter quiet.

"It was horrible. I was played by a horrible actress - at least your person was good!"

"I was only in one scene, there wasn't room to mess up."

Aang groaned, rubbing at his eyes. "Absolutely horrible - they should have stopped at the invasion."

Suki made a noise in her throat, continuing to roll the rice. She had her own opinions on Aang's plan, but she kept it to herself mostly. "You went to bed early last night - you missed Zuko's rant about the lack of stage presence half the actors had. And how the special effects weren't properly conducted in beat - whatever that means."

A small smile cracked across Aang's face, though it quickly faded. He turned when the kettle screeched, taking it off the range and putting the frying pan on it. "Do you want anything in particular?"

"Ginger Rue please." Reaching for the oil, they worked in silence while he began to steep the tea and she began cooking breakfast.

There was part of her that wanted to blush but… this was Aang. He didn't judge, and if he did, he kept it to himself. Ginger Rue tea was the only thing available as a birth control on Ember Island. Even while tracking her cycle - though that had disappeared months ago - anything to avoid pregnancy right now. They couldn't risk it.

Aang went to set the table, quietly moving around the kitchen as he did so. He found some nuts in the cabinets while he was at it, adding it to the table.

There were heavy footsteps on the stairs, followed by -

" - but it would have been so cool!"

"And expensive. How much do you think those people make?"

"The economy sucks everywhere, we can thank Sozin for that - but come on! I know you agree with me!"

Zuko smiled as he walked down the last of the steps, looking at them before giving a long suffering sigh. "I'm gonna disagree."

"Oh come on!" Sokka exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. He didn't seem to pay anyone attention while walking into the kitchen, though he did smack her butt and steal a ball of rice in a fluid motion, earning a swat on his arm. "You're impossible."

"...I admit it would be interesting, on an outdoor stage." Zuko pulled out a chair and sat, taking a sip of the tea Aang set in front of him. "I'd imagine it'd be a safety hazard, amateur benders and acting combined."

"There used to be a troupe in the Earth Kingdom with each kind of bender. It was so fun watching them."

Everyone paused, looking at Aang filling up his thermos. It wasn't often he mentioned little tidbits like that anymore.

"...my uncle mentioned that once. They kept performing for decades after the airbenders…passed."

"You can say killed, Zuko." Aang went to the hooks where the cloaks hung, draping one over himself and pulling up the hood. Momo scurried to him, settling on a shoulder. His grip tightened on his thermos. "I know what happened to my people."

"Aang he wasn't trying to…nevermind," Sokka muttered while the Avatar walked out the door, shutting it softly behind him. "That play really messed with him, huh?"

Zuko snorted, taking another sip of tea. "It messed with all of us."

The Yaki Onigiri began to sizzle, filling the room. Without a word she took some tongs and began to move each to a plate Aang had left beside her.

"What are the plans for today?" Sokka asked, breaking the silence.

"Training."

"Gross."

"The comet is a few days away Sokka."

"Uh huh. Still sounds boring."

"You of all people…" Zuko shook his head in exasperation.

Suki set the Yaki Onigiri on the table, and made to move back to the range before Sokka grasped her wrist.

"Sit down. We can eat more later if this isn't enough."

"You're sweet," Suki muttered, kissing Sokka lightly on the lips when she sat down.

Zuko shook his head. "You two can join us training, if you want."

"Maybe...sex is a good workout though." Suki snickered as they both failed to respond, taking a bite of her breakfast.

#midnight talks and morning chats #suki #sukka #ember island players #sokka #zuko #aang #sozin's comet #update #Yue

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hereformcdonaldshonestly · 3 years

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hi! i read some of your writing pieces, and they're amazing! 🧡 if you don't mind, could i request some headcanons of iida, yaoyorozu, jirou and sero with a gn! crush or s/o who tends to puff out their cheeks? they usually do it whenever they're concentrating on doing something (like taking a test, cooking a meal, etc.) or when someone teases them a bit too much and they get slightly upset (they're pretty much like ">:T *hmph!") i thought this would be cute, hehe. thank you so much! <3

How the Characters React to You Puffing Out Your Cheeks

Paring: Tenya Iida, Momo Yaoyorozu, Kyoka Jirou x !gn reader

Summary: This is how Tenya, Momo, Kyoka, all react to you puffing out your cheeks when focusing on something and how they get a little upset about how you get teased for it.

Notes: This is so cute! Also, I hope you like the new format, I thought it was much more organized! You have to let me know how you like it :)

Genre: Fluff 💖

Tenya Iida-

Tenya loved when you puffed out your cheeks like that, he never questioned why you did it but he doesn't care on why. He just thought it was adorable!

You were taking a test in class, this was more of a major grade so you definitely needed to ace this. You had wonderful grades, but you still loved to do well in your classes good grades or not. Tenya sat behind you, glancing up at you every now and then. He could hear the tiny "hmph!" and he smiled. He could imagine your face right now, with your cheeks puffed out and you're so concentrated that you don't know what's going on around you. Mineta sat next to you, you poor poor child, and he saw what you were doing. You heard him snickering but ignored it since you didn't really care, I mean come on, it's Mineta who would care? Tenya frowned slightly, after class he let you go ahead and he waited till Mineta was about to leave. "Minoru, you know it's not nice to make fun of others like that." He says with slight anger in his voice. Mineta laughs and rolls his eyes, "are you talking about (y/n)? Come on, it was funny to watch." Iida immediately frowned, "it's not funny. Actually, I find it quite adorable and of course, you wouldn't see it because let's face it, you'll never find someone as great as them. Or anyone at all, at this point." He says firmly, Mineta's eyes are wide and others stare in shock.

You heard everything, smiling, you thought about how much he really loved you. You sat by the corner, waiting for Tenya to show up. Whenever he did, his face was slightly red and he had one of his hands balled up into a fist. "Babe?" You ask, he quickly jumps back. You start laughing, "I didn't see you there (y/n)!" You hug him without saying another word, he smiled and hugged you back. "Thank you Tenya." He smiles into your hair, "no problem my dear."

Momo Yaoyorozu-

You and Momo were in the cafeteria, you guys agreed to help cook for all of the students. Well, that and so you could get some leftovers because whenever you two cooked, it tasted amazing! You were working on cooking the Miso Soup while Momo got started on the curry rice.

You had your cheeks puffed out, making sure you cook the tofu to absolute perfection. Momo smiled, she loved when you did that. She always loved to see the determination in your eyes whenever you were focusing. You were the type to either go big or go home so this definitely made you want to get it perfect. "Babe please pass me the salt." You say, your eyes not leaving the pot. She laughs, "what are you needing salt for?" She asks while handing it to you, "I'm going to make sure this is the best Miso Soup you've had!" You exclaim and get back to stirring. Momo laughs and that's when she hears Katsuki say something. She turns around to him, with an eyebrow raised. "Hey dumbass, make sure your cheeks don't pop or explode because, from the looks of it, it seems like it!" He says you weren't paying that much attention. You got used to it over the years, but Momo, oh boy, she was ready to kill that boy on the spot! "What did you say?" She asked, putting the spoon down and fully turning to face him. "You heard what I said dumbass." She frowned, "I don't think that your attitude is called for. They are adorable when focusing like that, so if you have a problem come to me about it but if not then don't say a word." She says, slowly getting close to him, with a hint of anger in her voice.

Katsuki's eyes went kind of wide, shocked, but not that surprised. He knew how protective she was over you. "Now if you excuse me, I'm going to get back to cooking so get out of the kitchen." She says, pointing to the door, he just nodded and walked out silently. You smile and look at her, "thanks babe." She kisses your forehead, "don't worry about it dear." She pauses for a second and looks at you, "is something burning?" Your eyes go wide and turns around to see your tofu burnt to a crisp, "MY MISO SOUP!"

Kyoka Jirou-

You and Jirou were sitting in the library, listening to music. She had one earbud while you had the other. It was a new song that came out, you couldn't remember the name but all you know is that it's a jam. You guys were studying for an upcoming exam, and it was a major part of your grade.

"Okay babe, now you remember," she pauses. She looks up and sees you puffing out your cheeks, she smiles and goes silent, not wanting to interrupt your thought process. She goes back to writing something down on her paper, that's when she hears what sounds like laughing. She takes out her earbud and stays silent to see if she hears it again. And she does, she turns around and sees that it was some random group of kids laughing. Since you guys were at a public library, she couldn't pinpoint who it was exactly. She stands up, seeing that you were still focused, and goes over to them. "Hey is something funny?" She asks, leaning on the table next to them. One of the boys looks up at her and laughs, "Yeah, look at that kid! Who even does that, they look like a chipmunk!" She frowns, "hm." The kid still laughs and points to you. She grabs his hand quickly, "don't point at them, you'll distract them." She says quietly but looking him dead in the eyes. He has slight fear in his eyes, "now you listen okay?" He nods, taking a step back. "They're everything to me, my world. And right now they're studying so they can be the best pro hero they can be. Now you will go and walk away before it gets worse." She says, letting go of his hand.

You took out your earbud, noticing that Jirou was gone. You turned around in your chair to see her staring there with a death glare and a group of boys speed walking the hell out of there. You looked at her confused, and she just shrugs. "I'm not sure, I guess they don't like rock music." She says, sitting back down next to you. You laugh and roll your eyes, not saying that you knew the real reason. Whenever she took her earbud out, you heard her get up and heard her say that you were her world. You smiled at the thought and seen she was back to studying. You sigh and lean on her, "I love you Jirou." She smiles, "I love you too (y/n)."

This was so cute! I love protective Iida!

I hope you have a great day!

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pixelwisp-archive · 3 years

Text

Itadakimasu!! | Part 11: I'm Sorry (Written Chapter)

word count: 3.1k

The Mixtape: Thinking of you | CA, 1979

The music that pooled out of Onigiri Miya was anything but what you expected. A small smile crept up onto your face - despite your best efforts - and with a featherlight touch, you crept into the restaurant, silently thanking the soft jazz for drowning out the creaks as you pushed the door open in search of a certain chef.

Osamu stood at the sink, hands working some leftover dishes from the work day. He hummed softly along to the music, and it surprised you just how nice he sounded - how his deep hum complemented the honey voice that dripped through the speakers; rich, thick, and soft like velvet. You padded into the kitchen, clutching the wine and apron closer to your frame so as not to bump it on anything that could give you away, and allowed yourself a few minutes to listen and appreciate before ultimately ruining the moment.

“I didn’t know you could sing, Miya.” You brought a hand up to suppress a giggle as he stiffened and dropped the plate he had been washing with a loud clatter. Osamu bowed his head and cleared his throat, loud enough to drown out the music for a brief moment before it ultimately pervaded the kitchen once more. He grabbed the nearest towel to dry his hands before reaching for the remote, the music ceasing with a quick click. Once he turned around, your eyes immediately fell on the dusted pink that settled onto his cheeks, and you did your best to ignore the warmth that ignited in your chest at the sight.

"So, Etta James, huh?" Osamu coughed awkwardly, turning his attention back toward the sink to finish up the last few dishes that lingered in the basin.

"Ya know Etta James?" An affirming hum left your lips as you placed the bottle of wine and your apron on the island, eyes flitting over the rustic kitchen in search of wine glasses.

The kitchen was a decent size, the bright wooden counters and cabinets a stark contrast to the dark iron of the appliances, but it complemented each other and suited the space well. The soft ivory paint on the walls kept the overall area from being too loud compared to the rest of the restaurant, and you wondered if Kita was behind the greenery that added a lush, vibrant addition to the otherwise plain shop. Your eyes landed on a modest pile of cookbooks stored neatly in the corner, and you let out a huff of victory as you made your way over to the wine glasses that sat in a windowed cabinet above them.

"My parents were big fans, they've always had a funny fascination with America," you explained, and from the corner of your eye you saw him nod. The two of you relished in the, for once, comfortable beats of silence that followed, and you were surprised when he - for a second time since you had met him - decided to be the one break it.

"My Ma used to have this busted up, old, mix tape that she would play every night when she made dinner. Got it at a flea market when she spent a semester abroad in California. She always talked about how she wished she could visit again." The fondness in his voice made your heart squeeze. You busied yourself, listening intently as you placed two wine glasses onto the counter and filled them generously. "Eventually the cassette broke from years of abuse, but I managed to find the songs and make her a playlist. She still listens to it, every night, and I guess I got so used to it that it feels almost...wrong, to cook without hearin' it in the background, even though I'm not home anymore." You slid one glass over to him and he raised a brow at it, a soft smile pointed your way.

"I think ya skimped me a bit," he joked, and you chuckled sheepishly, a hand coming to scratch the back of your neck.

"What can I say, I like my wine." He chuckles as you reach for the small remote.

"You didn't have to stop it, you know. I love me some Etta," you said, and his smile widened ever so slightly as you pressed play, the smooth voice fluttering through the speakers once more, softer this time as you adjusted the volume. You lifted the wine glass to your lips, taking a tentative first sip. The second the bittersweet liquid hit your tongue, you closed your eyes and sighed into the familiarity. It flashed you back to Tokyo; the seemingly endless nights on the balcony with Tendou and Semi, your drunken laughter rivaling the music in volume as Semi sang along with fervor - but, really, does anyone sound good when they're nearly a bottle deep?

Reality slammed into you like a meteor, and you were instantly struck back into the present moment, meeting Osamu's eyes as he watched you curiously. You felt the warmth crawl up your neck from the embarrassment, and you cleared your throat in the hopes that you could divert his attention to literally anything else.

"So, are you gonna teach me how to properly make some Onigiri tonight?" His eyes fell on the apron you brought, the one he gifted to you, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise as his lips settled into a playful smirk.

"Who said anythin' about 'teach'? I said I'd show ya how I make it; I didn' say nothin' about teachin' ya."

"And miss out on learning how to make Onigiri Miya's signature dish? No way." Osamu scoffed as you grabbed your apron and began tying it around your waist. His arms folded in front of him, his lips a thin line. You couldn't tell if he was thinking or already disapproving.

"This was meant to be an apology, you know," he started, but you cut him off.

"I know! And what better apology than by helping me perfect my shaping?" The resigned sigh that followed meant a victory for you, the grin proof enough for both of you that you had won. "So, what are we making today?"

"I figured I'd keep it simple tonight. Ya like fatty tuna?" Of course you do. Who doesn’t? "Great, let's get started then."

To be honest, you weren't expecting Osamu to be as patient with you as he was. Even though you were decently acquainted with the 'art form' that was Onigiri (as so eloquently and dramatically described by Osamu), you decided to entertain him and pretend to struggle with every step - over shredding the tuna, spilling the spices, adding too much mayo - in the minor hope that you could catch him stressed and maybe a bit frustrated - but to your somewhat disappointment, mostly pleasant surprise, every effort to get at least a furrowed brow or a groan was met with a warm smile, sometimes a breathy chuckle, and a strong pair of arms gently guiding you through the correct steps.

It was as equally frustrating as it was endearing.

"Now ya wanna dip yer hands into the dish of water I left on the side for ya, yeah, great, that's it - now grab a pinch of salt - not too much, just a pinch, and ya wanna rub it into yer hands to prep for the rice."

"What if I have a cut somewhere?"

"Do ya have a cut?"

"Well, not that I know of, but what if there's a cut I don't know about?"

"Well then I guess we'll find out soon, won' we?"

You huffed, but nonetheless pinched the tiny mountain of salt and collected a modest amount before tentatively rubbing it into your hands. Your shoulders were stiff the entire time, prepared for the sudden sting on the off chance the salt decided to acquaint itself with an unknown wound on your hand. You heard Osamu stifle a laugh, and your eyes met his as he smirked at your cautious form.

"Stop staring at me, focus on your own stupid rice ball." He laughed - loudly, beautifully - and you felt your hands tremble the slightest bit as you tried to put all of your focus on making a stupid, dumb triangle out of some stupid, dumb rice.

"Need some help?" You merely grumbled in response as the little bundle of rice and filling crumbled in your hands, despite your feeble attempts at shaping it. He set his own, perfectly shaped, onigiri aside and scooched over to you, his arms reaching around your form, chest pressed lightly against your back. "Yer pressing in too softly, so the rice isn't holding. Cup yer hands like this-" he cupped your hands within his own "-just like that. Now press a little firmer, like this." You were trying your best to pay attention to what he was showing you, you really were - but you couldn't help but marvel at how soft his hands were. You expected them to be rough; calloused from years of cooking, volleyball, and the handyman side hobby, but clearly that wasn’t the case. What kind of lotion did he use to make them feel so smooth? Probably some fancy homemade Aloe Vera lotion Kita made for him, you thought with a scoff.

This new revelation had also made you hyper aware that your hands were not, in fact, soft - countless burns, cuts, and other various acts of carelessness in the kitchen have given your hands a battle worn texture that no amount of hoity toity, all natural Aloe Vera would be able to soften up. He must have been cringing inside just having to touch the absolute burlap that is your haggard looking, stupid hands, oh god-

"Nice job, yer doin' great." The gentleness in his voice plucked you from your inner turmoil, effectively grounding you back to the task at hand. What was once a crumbling mess of rice and tuna now stood a beautifully crafted onigiri, the plump triangle nestled snuggly in between your hands. A gasp left you as you beamed at the finished product, and you whipped your head toward him, twisting slightly within his grip so you could face him properly.

It was then that you realized just how close he was to you.

Whatever words you had planned to say to him died in your throat as your brain tried to comprehend why the hell his face was so close to yours. Osamu seemed to be in a similar state of shock, eyes wide and mouth emulating a fish, opening and shutting when the words weren't coming to him. From the way your own mouth gaped, you imagined you shared a similar expression.

Simultaneously, almost comically, you separated yourselves and severed eye contact, Osamu finding something above you particularly interesting. What exactly, you weren't sure - you were too busy eyeing every minute detail of the remarkably plain tile flooring.

Like an awkward embrace from an old friend you never truly vibed with, the uncomfortable silence settled between you two once again.

It would have almost felt nostalgic, if you didn't hate it with a seething passion.

'And my arms need someone, someone to enfold'

The playful jazz number cut through the silence, and you mentally cursed Etta for clearly not reading the room - your arms were certainly not looking to enfold anybody at the moment, and you imagined it was likely that Osamu felt the same.

You spun back around toward your work station, a quick roll of your shoulders the only indication that you were gonna keep working, because you sure as shit didn't trust whatever would have come out of your mouth had you chosen to open it. Lucky for you, he seemed to get the hint and moved back toward his own work station, making quick work of shaping what he had left, while you continued to struggle, albeit far less than before.

Not a word had been uttered in the moments that followed, the music filling the awkward rift that split between you.

To be honest, you felt guilty that nearly every interaction between you two inevitably dissolved into a dense, unbearable tension; the once lighthearted mood suddenly cracked open like a fault line, the quiet settling between you like dust, and it always felt so thick that trying to bring the moment back its old, enlightened state seemed to take such an immense amount of effort - effort that neither one of you appeared to want to put forth.

You wondered if Osamu shared a similar sentiment.

While you finished up the last of your onigiri, you allowed your attention to flicker to Osamu as he eyed the leftover tuna filling with seemingly great interest, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. You watched as he scooped the mess onto his finger, putting obvious effort into keeping it balanced as he brought the teetering pile to his lips. Right as he went to close his lips around his finger, the tiny mountain fell, smearing onto his chin and landing on the counter with the saddest little ‘splat’ you'd ever heard. The disappointment he exuded at his misfortune is what ultimately broke you, and you laughed - a bright, gleeful sound that dispelled the suffocating air in an instant, and made you feel like you could finally breathe again (which was ironic, considering how out of breath you were from the incessant giggles that sprung free with absolutely no regard for your lung capacity).

Your hand flew to your mouth in an (admittedly failed) attempt to stifle yourself, as well as possibly save the last shred of rapidly waning dignity Osamu was probably holding onto for dear life. You folded in on yourself, laughter bouncing off the restaurant floor and - again, probably - stabbing directly into Osamu's crumbling pride.

Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, Osamu's loud, beautiful laugh cut through your own, and at the sight of his uncharacteristically bright smile, accompanied with the little smear of mayo on his chin, you realized that, maybe, probably, he was actually doing just fine; and that this - laughing with him - was something you'd never been given the chance to do before, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't something you wished you could do more often.

You hoped that, maybe, Osamu wanted that, too.

"So, I take it they didn't teach you how to make onigiri at your fancy schmancy culinary school?" He smiled as you bit back a groan. It was embarrassing, how ugly your onigiri looked next to his. Sure, you were joking about your incompetence in the beginning in the hopes to rile him up a little; but when it came to actually forming the balls, well - there's a reason the spite onigiri you made were small and round.

"You win this time, rice man." He boldly plucked one of your creations and plopped it onto his plate, while you opted for one of his. You knew yours were gonna have too much mayo and way too much seasoning, and you weren't about to subject yourself to that.

You took a bite out of the rice ball and audibly moaned - how is something so simple so delicious? He chuckled, lazy smile draped across his features as he watched you eat. The little sparkle in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by you, and you felt a tiny tug on your heart at how excited he was that you were enjoying his food, even if he wasn't being outwardly showy about it like you tended to be.

"'This time'? Does that mean we're doing this again?" You reached for another one of his as you hummed to yourself.

"Hmm, maybe. Maybe I'll force you to bake me some macarons." You were kidding, of course - you wouldn't wish that upon even your worst enemies - but the way his eyes brightened and he agreed with a small but noticeable lilt to his voice had you wondering if maybe making macarons wouldn't be all that bad if you made them with him.

He bit into your onigiri, taking a far more generous bite than you would have, and you snickered at the obvious attempt to conceal the grimace he had involuntarily made upon swallowing. The way he tiptoed around his critique of your failure was incredibly endearing ("It's not bad, just...mayo-y." "You don't have to eat it, you know." "No no, you worked hard, I'm gonna eat it."), and you felt the first little crack form in the walls you had begun to keep up around him ever since the curry incident.

The longer you enjoyed the food, wine, and - surprisingly - company, the harder it became to ignore the guilt that had settled onto your heart earlier in the evening. What started off as a mere twinge had become a sizeable weight in your chest, growing each moment you spent with him that didn't make you want to launch him off the summit of Mount Fuji.

"I'm sorry," you said, quiet and out of the blue. He shot you a confused smile.

"Pretty sure that's my job right now," he pointed out, and you offered a meek chuckle in response.

"I shouldn't have sold the dessert onigiri. Seeing just how passionate you are makes me realize the gravity of what I did. My ego was a little bruised and instead of being an adult about it, I openly insulted you and Kita by making a mockery of your business. I took it too far, and I'm really sorry about that. I'm sure it goes without saying, but I'm gonna stop making them so you don't have to worry anymore." He was quiet, staring at you in a way he hadn't before, and it made you feel far too exposed, playing with the rice crumbled on your plate as you waited for a reaction.

"I'm sorry, too. I only said those things because the idea of you expanding yer menu terrified me. Yer an amazin' chef, and I honestly think ya could run me out of business one day." His voice was soft, too; and you felt the crack grow considerably wider, your vulnerability peeking through pinched brows and hands that you couldn't seem to keep still. "I've always wanted to open up a location in Tokyo, and expand the menu. Onigiri made sense because it's always been a source of comfort, but as much as I love makin' em, there're others things I wanna make, too."

The air between you was...light. The weight that usually settled itself into your shoulder blades seemed to have dissipated, and you couldn't tell if it was the wine, the time, or Osamu. Maybe it was all three.

"I...I like it better when we don't hate each other," you said.

"I never hated you," he said.

"I never hated you either," you admitted.

"Does that mean we can stop pretending we do?" He looked you, and you saw hope.

You smiled.

"Yeah," you said. "We can."

Prev | Masterlist | Next

Fun facts -

Osamu listening to old 60′s love songs just did something to me ok, especially my girl Etta

Kita is 100% responsible for the plants

Osamu’s mom kept the tape, even after it finally broke beyond repair. It reminds her of Osamu’s father, who she met that summer in Cali

he was another exchange student from Japan. They had a summer fling and inevitably said their goodbyes when the summer was over and he had to fly back home.

They ended up bumping into each other a year after she moved back - and fate has been a big theme for the Miya’s ever since.

Osamu has always felt a little funny about it - it feels too convenient, and he doesn’t like the idea of not being in control of his own path.

He thought your ugly rice balls were disgusting, obviously, and he was sure to eat his own after the first one lmao

A/n - when you haven’t updated in so long you have to look at past chapters to remember how you formatted 😭. BUT ITS FINALLY DONEEEE, this chapter KICKED my ass oh my god but it feels so good to be finished and we’re finally moving into new territory~ I’m very excited for the next few chapters!! I hope you guys enjoy this latest chapter, please don’t be afraid to shoot me messages if you have questions!! I have a LOT of behind the scenes content that doesn’t make it into the fic sometimes and I’m always eager to share 🤩✨💛

Taglist (bolded cannot be tagged!)-

@larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @fucktheworlddude @doctorspencereid @keiarma @cherriechurros @halesandy @k3nma-fairy @jewlmin @tabipleats @kaleidoscopekai @confusedturtle @vintagexparker @hoeevern @syaziahvg @hallothankmas @lilith412426 @aurorahoneybuns @oikawakuns @reina-de-tay @prettyinblack231 @snowyseungs @darlingkuroo @chloji @1sillylittlething

#Itadakimasu!!#osamu smau #osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #osamu miya smau #osamu miya #osamu x y/n #haikyuu smau #haikyu smau #hq smau #hq!! smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x you #haikyu x reader #hq!! x reader #hq x reader #osamu x you

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crystalas · 3 years

Text

Blazing Blue part 1

Red Son runs away from home after overhearing his father call him a worthless excuse of a demon, agreeing to a truce with MK he ends up with the Monkie crew unaware that someone wants to steal a power that was sealed away long ago.

Chapter one: Truce buddies

Demon Bull King stood amongst the ruins of his old hidden stronghold, his robot clones busy digging out the remains and salvaging anything of use. He took a weary sigh and he surveyed all of what he had built since his revival and growled at how quickly it was destroyed…annoyingly at his own hand! Only then to be enslaved by Spider Queen while trying to raise enough funds to rebuild it. Needless to say, it had a been a few rough months for the Demon Bull Family.

“Man, I had heard your family had fallen on hard times but this is embarrassing!” a voice chuckled and Demon Bull King felt himself bristle with anger, he spun around to smash whoever thought it wise to mock a ten-foot-tall bull demon only to find the black monkey warrior Macaque lounging leisurely on top of a pile of rubble.

“Begone, you annoying simian shadow, I have no time for you” Demon Bull King snarled.

“Aw and I came all the way down here to chat, how rude. I mean I’ll excuse you not getting out the fine China for me on account of well…” he gestures to the crumbling ruin as a chunk of wall collapsed behind him. “Your recent string of humiliating defeats and the fact you had to team up with Monkey King…just wow…how low can you go?”

Macaque quickly sprung to his feet and nimbly dodged a lump of molten metal that flew right past him and buried itself into the ceiling behind him.

“If you have come here just to mock me then I will make you pay for every word you speak tenfold!” he roared.

“You’re right I’m sorry, I actually wanted to see if you were interested in an alliance of sorts?” Macaque exclaimed as he hopped lightly down the rubble pile without so much as disturbing a brick and looked up at Demon Bull King with a smile.

“You come to my home…Mock me and my family and rub salt in my wounds and you ASK FOR AN ALLIENCE!!??”

“What if I told you, it’s a plan to destroy the Monkey King? And his little fan club?” Macaque offered, Demon Bull King glared at him said not a word and then with speed not many would associate with a creature of his size and bulk snatched Macaque with his hand and brought him up to his face to look him in the eye.

“Know this Six Ears Macaque just because I have been buried under a mountain for the last few centuries does not mean I am ignorant of current events! You tried to best Monkey King with his protégé’s own power and you still lost!” Demon Bull King snarled as Macaque squirmed in his tight grip before erupting into shadowy mist and escaping. Demon Bull King glanced around trying to find the real one only for what he hoped was the real one to appear perched nearby on what remained of his furnace.

“See that’s why I’m here, Monkey King knows I like to… “borrow” power from other people, and he probably think I’ll go for powers of say his fanboy or someone just as good but what if I blindsided him with powers of say… The Demon Bull King? Or Lady Iron Fan? Or maybe say the power of demon fire?”

“No. Begone.”

“Com’on I’m not even asking you to do anything just let me borrow some power and I’ll do the butt kicking!”

“Begone.” Demon Bull King replied even harsher than last time.

“Fine, I get it.” Macaque grumbled “Best shot you have of getting your revenge and you’re going to turn it down!”

“I am not as foolish as to become a mere power source to another being, that is not an alliance that is servitude at best!” Demon Bull King declared standing to his full height with his fist clench ready for battle. “And do not think me as foolish to let you even try!”

“Fine. Fine I’ll just try Red Son, he’s more open minded about these things. Plus, I’ve heard the rumours of his… hidden inheritance” Macaque smirked as he spun on his heels and walked away casually only for a fist to slammed into the wall blocking his path.

“You will stay away from my family!” Demon Bull King hissed.

“So, it is true? I mean I’ve heard stories about it but given what I’ve seen of him in action I’d begun to doubt any of them!”

Demon Bull King thought quickly but to be fair his wife was more the brains of the operation, if Macaque was beginning to doubt the stories better to confirmed it than deny them.

“Red Son is a pathetic whelp, who is an embarrassment to us and unworthy of being called my son, he only brings shame and defeat to whatever he does. Whatever rumours you had heard are merely that; rumours. If he did have any power worthy of the Demon Bull King family name, don’t you think I would have used it by now?” Demon Bull King declared coldly, “You have clearly wasted your time and mine. You have your answer. Now go!”

“I guess they must be wrong if even you say Red Son is a worthless excuse of a demon. My mistake, you know how stories get hyped up over the years…I’ll be on my way” Macaque said sadly as he hopped down and walked away arms crossed behind his back. As he did, he glanced over at one of the corridors that snaked through Demon Bull King’s hide out to see a quiet and pale faced Red Son…

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

Red Son had managed to find his room amongst the rubble and save some clothes, books and tools. Sadly, an iron girder had broken through the roof of his room and destroyed his computer set up and mechanics bench, in a way he was ok with that. Rebuilding his computer would give him something to do while the reconstruction was underway. Now he was heading to the main chamber as he was getting peckish and fancied going up top to grab some food, might as well see if Father didn’t want anything before, he headed out.

As he walked down the corridor, he heard his father shouting and the muffled voices of him talking to another. Who could that be? Red Son wondered as he started to walk faster, Mother shouldn’t be back just yet. She had left the city to find spell ingredients for her magics, [it is kind of hard to locate stuff like dragon scales and tree spirit sap in a dense city metropolis.]

As he came to the opening to the main chambre he heard something that made his heart stop.

“Red Son is a pathetic whelp, who is an embarrassment us and unworthy of being called my son…” his father said, as he tried to listen everything else but it just to swim in and out of his focus as his head spun. “…Only brings shame and defeat…Worthless excuse of a demon…waste of…my time…”

Why? Why would his father say that? Red Son thought they had made progress in their relationship, okay fine he had only called him son that one time but…but that was still a better than nothing? He saved him when the Spider Queen caught him in her webs, they fought her together.

Was he really back to square one? No. it was apparently worse than that he wasn’t back at square one he was off the game board entirely as far as his father was concerned. Heavens knows how his mother must see him give she has called him useless to his face! He had tried no end of times to prove himself only to come home with nothing to show for it.

He didn’t even register Macaque walk by as he spun on his heels and went back to what remains of his room; stuffing what he had salvaged into a backpack and swallowing back a painful lump in his throat as he quickly wrote a note leaving it on the metal girder for whoever to find. He took a deep breath trying to steady his emotions before disappearing in a swirl of flames.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Monkey Kid or MK was feeling down of late; his Master the Monkey King had given him the task of catching a red leaf with a gold dot on it. That didn’t sound too hard right? Not when Monkey King is making it rain hundreds of other leaves all of different colours and hues as well and expects him to find it in minutes!

MK sighed, he knew what the lesson was about he was supposed to focus on that one leaf and avoid all other distractions. If he pulled it off and mastered it, he knew he’s probably be able to find a grain of rice on a beach or something as pointless but somehow totally cool sounding. Problem was he couldn’t pull it off, he kept getting distracted or just overwhelmed by the leaves getting dumped on him from above.

So now he sat on a ledge of Flower Fruit Mountain overlooking the sunset on the city, he liked to come here when he wanted to clear his head. On one hand it was freaking awesome he was the protégé of The Monkey King a warrior of renowned legendary might and skill…on the other hand sometimes it would dawn on him on just how daunting it was to live up to the expectations of an immortal warrior who seems to have seen everything the world has to offer and then some.

He sighed as he stood up and brushed the dirt off his pants before grabbing his staff. He began to walk he saw that he wasn’t the only one taking in the view with a sense of melancholy. As he got closer, he squawked in alarm as he saw the familiar flaming red hair and ragged jacket.

“RED SON??!!” this outburst caused Red Son to leap out of his skin and jump to his feet. “What are you doing here?!”

“Oh, push off Noodle Boy, last time I checked you don’t own this mountain!” Red Son snapped grabbing his stuff and storming off “But if you’re here that means Monkey King isn’t far behind and I rather not have to deal with him on top of everything else!”

“Huh? Hey wait!” MK shouted as he noticed the backpack. “What’s in there?!”

“None of your concern!” Red Son barked back.

“It is my concern when you show up on Monkey King’s Mountain with a suspicious bag! What’s in it?”

“It’s not a bomb or anything!”

“You got a BOMB??!!”

“Oh, for the love of…NO! I have not got a bomb or anything of the sort! I mean for pity’s sake I can literally throw fire balls why would I need to carry an explosive weapon??!!”

MK dashed forward and tried to grab the backpack and Red Son tried to pulled it away from him leading to a very childish game of tug of war.

“Lemme see what’s in it!”

“NO!”

“If you’ve got nothing to hide then you have nothing to worry about!”

“ITS MY STUFF SO LET GO!”

Sadly, a backpack that had endured many scorches from its owner and grounded by rubble could only bear so much and with one last pull from both sides the backpack’s fabric tore open and Red Son’s stuff poured onto the floor. Red Son dived down to grab what he could as MK took in the sights of clothes, food, and other mundane stuff.

“Dude…are you camping or something?” MK asked as he saw one of the items that had skidded out of Red Son’s reach, he knelt down to pick it up and saw it was a hand sized family portrait of Princess Iron Fan and Demon Bull King…before he could get a good look it was snatched from his hands.

“Just leave me alone!” Red Son growled “You can clearly see that I am not a threat!”

“Red …are you ok?”

Red Son was trying to figure out how to keep his stuff in a backpack with a massive hole in it, but he was also trying desperately to ignore the look of concern that was coming from his enemy.

“Are you running away from home?”

Red Son didn’t respond to that and he had stopped fiddling with his backpack as he was now staring sadly at the photo.

“Why?” MK asked softly.

“Why do you care?”

“I mean…I dunno…you and your dad seem to be getting on when I last saw you, seems strange that you’re running away!”

“I AM NOT RUNNING AWAY!” Red Son roared his hair flaring up in flames, gripping the photo tightly as he did. The flames died quickly as did Red Son’s anger as he then whispered “I’m…I’m…just making things easier for my parents…”

MK tilted his head in confusion, he looked at Red Son for a moment. This was a guy who was always so confident, loud and proud of his name and heritage he literally introduces himself in full name whenever he’s about to do something dastardly or anything for that matter. Now he was sitting there with a backpack full of his possessions, on a mountain far from home, staring at a family picture like he’s never going to see them again.

MK sat down next to Red Son, putting the staff away to show he meant no harm.

“Want to talk about it?”

Red Son looked away angrily.

“Ok how about I go first? You know how cool it is to have someone like the freaking Monkey King show up and say that’ll they teach you? It is don’t get me wrong but then you begin to see how big of a shadow you’re stuck under? We’re talking about a guy who literally stole from the heavens and got away with it and has beaten up who knows how many monsters and demons? I sometimes wonder if I’m ever gonna be good enough for this, it’s just feels like the whole universe is just waiting for me to screw up, just to prove that I can’t do it… y’know what I mean?” there a few moments of silence and MK was about to try again when he heard a small voice.

“At least he believes in you, it must be nice to have a someone like that.”

“Your parents don’t?”

“… …no…” Red Son muttered, “I overheard my father today telling someone that he considers me an embarrassment to the family name, along with a few other choice words…”

“So, you��left?”

“I don’t know I wasn’t thinking at the time!” Red Son cried out angrily tugging at his head in frustration, “I want prove to my father that I am worthy of being his son but how? How do I show him that I’m not a …a…pathetic whelp?”

There was a heavy tense silence between them as they both looked at each other and then at the city, the sun nearing finished setting and the in the twilight the city lights began to shine.

“You know what?” MK declared as he got up. “We both need a break!”

“What?”

“A break from all this living up to people’s expectations and ideals! A chance to recharge the batteries and get some of that well-being self-care stuff!”

“What exactly are you proposing?” Red Son inquired nervously.

“We can just hang out; you know play games and chill? Also, you can stay at mine till you get this all sorted out!”

Red Son looked at MK like he had just announced that the moon was made of cream cheese and was inhabited by flying guinea pigs.

“So…a truce?” he ventured nervously

“Yeah! My friends and I don’t fight you, and you don’t fight us!”

Red Son looked down at his destroyed backpack, then glanced at the mountain side he was on and realised that maybe coming up here to hide was a dumb idea.

“It not like I’ve got anything better to do!” he grumbled.

“AWESOME!” MK beamed “Let’s go! We’re gonna be Truce Buddies!”

#monkie kid red son #red son #monkie kid #monkie kid mk #spiceynoodle #sort of but kind of

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kumeko · 3 years

Text

A/N: For @giyushinozine! I wanted to tangle with Shinobu’s growing feelings, the complicated mess of her not knowing how she feels only that their relationship isn’t the same as it was before.

…

It was raining. Standing on the threshold of an abandoned house, Shinobu breathed in the earthy air as she watched the steady downpour. Not even the birds and insects wanted to be caught in this weather, and Shinobu missed their usual song. Instead, she was serenaded by the soft plip as rain hit the hole-filled roof, the pitter-patter of droplets as they struck the earth.

This wasn’t the first storm that had caught her unawares. It probably wouldn’t be the last. If anything, a dilapidated building was better than the caves she’d hidden in before. There was no point in risking a cold by heading to the town proper and searching for an inn.

Well, there was one point. Shinobu grimaced as she looked over her shoulder. Barely visible in the gloom was Giyu. Suddenly she found herself longing for a damp cave. Maybe she could even just keep heading home; what was a feverish week in exchange for a couple of hours worth of peace? Getting trapped with Giyu was the worst luck. It had been off-putting running into him while returning from a mission, but spending the night with him?

The rain was looking more and more tempting. Shinobu stared at the dark clouds one last time before stepping back with a sigh. If she got sick and a demon attacked—she shook her head, refusing to entertain the idea any further. She could put up with Giyu until the rain stopped, at least.

Steeling herself, she turned around. The house was a small one with a simple layout. The biggest room was this first room, featuring a sunken hearth and space around for its occupants to huddle. Water leaked into the house from several sizeable holes in the ceiling, but luckily none were near the firepit. Unfortunately, while Giyu was sitting next to the hearth, he hadn’t actually started a fire. Hand on her hip, Shinobu tried to keep her irritation out of her voice as she asked, “Where’s the fire?”

He looked at her, a sleepy expression on his face, and shrugged. “It isn’t there.”

“I can see that.” Shinobu bit her cheek. This was just minute one. She had to at least make it to an hour before giving up. “Whyisn’t there a fire?”

“I didn’t start it,” he answered simply.

Maybe Kanao would visit her in jail. Shinobu gritted her teeth and quickly strode toward the center of the room. “This is why no one likes you. It’s common sense to start a fire when it’s cold.” Ignoring his surprised flinch—and honestly, why did that surprise him? He should know how everyone felt by now—, she knelt by the hearth and inspected the coal there. Oddly shaped and crumbly, they were at least dry and would hopefully kindle. “Otherwise we’ll get sick and the last thing I am doing is carrying you back.”

Giyu didn’t say anything, just watched as she pulled out her tinder. His eyes were barely visible in the half-light. At night, it would be impossible to see him at all. While that was preferable, she didn’t want to break her neck walking around this place in the dark. Luckily, it didn’t take long for the fire to take. The flames flickered to life, a thin curl of smoke rising to the roof. Immediately, the warmth hit her skin and she sat a little further back, letting the heat remove the chill from her bones. She sighed, “That’s better.”

He kept quiet. Soon, the crackling flames were the only sound in the room as they greedily gobbled up the remaining coal. Idly, Shinobu glanced at her companion. She could count the number of times she’d been alone with him with a single hand, maybe two. It was odd. They’d worked together for so long, but she’d never really thought of him before now. Maybe it was his lack of presence or the way he isolated himself. Even now, with no one around but the two of them, he kept to himself, his eyes trained on the fire.

Shinobu had never considered herself someone who needed conversation. She liked silence almost as much as she liked chatter, liked how doing nothing could sometimes be utterly comfortable. This was neither of those things. Feeling awkward and slightly unnerved, she wondered how she should break the silence. The shadows danced across his face in strange patterns. She kept adjusting her posture, her legs falling asleep as they waited, yet he hadn’t moved an inch.

In the end, she didn’t have to. Her stomach gurgled hungrily, and Shinobu immediately wrapped an arm around her waist as a mortified blush burned her neck. She snapped her attention to Giyu. Their eyes met and any hopes she had that he hadn’t noticed vanished. “I…” she mumbled, her brain running in circles as she tried to find an explanation that kept her dignity.

“Hungry?” Giyu asked.

“Yes,” she reluctantly admitted. Somehow, an hour had passed since they’d taken refuge. Even now, the rain didn’t let up, the droplets drumming on the roof as the night took over. Shinobu prided herself on her preparation, but she had planned on arriving home hours ago.

Something crinkled and she watched as Giyu pulled out a leaf-wrapped bundle. Holding it out, he offered, “You can have some.”

“I don’t need—” Her indignant response was immediately cut off as her stomach grumbled yet again. The hot blush on her neck crawled up her cheeks and there was no escaping this now. Flustered, she quickly got up and moved next to Giyu. As she sat down, her hand out to take the food, she growled, “You tell anyone about this and you’re dead.”

Confused, he cocked his head. “Why?”

She wasn’t sure if that was ‘Why would I tell anyone’ or ‘Why would I die’. She also didn’t care. How could she ever look anyone in the eye if they knew that Giyu of all people was more prepared than she was? Shaking her hand insistently, she snapped, “Does it matter?”

Giyu gave her a long, blank stare before slowly unwrapping his bundle, revealing three large onigiri. “No.”

Somehow, even when she got what she wanted, Giyu still frustrated her. What did he think of it all? Did he care? He had thawed since their last, but changes with him were as subtle as erosion on a rock. It didn’t help that he was as dense as one. Fighting down her irritation, she plucked one of the rice balls from his hand. The very round rice balls—Giyu took the ‘ball’ part literally it seemed. Still, maybe it tasted good.

A single bite dashed her hopes: the food was as tasteless as he was. Resisting the urge to gag at its blandness, she asked, “Do you know what salt is?”

“Yes.” Of course his expression remained utterly placid as he ate. Bite after bite, his face was as still as a lifeless pond. Maybe his taste buds had died long ago. Noticing her stare, he held out the last ball. “You want another?”

She couldn’t stop the grimace. “I can barely handle this one.” There was no point in nuance or tip-toeing around a matter with him. If Shinobu didn’t bluntly state it, he wouldn’t get it. “Did you make this? It’s terrible.”

“Terrible?” Shocked, he looked at the ball, then back at her. It was like kicking an ugly puppy.

“Yes, terrible. You can’t serve this to anyone.” Shinobu rolled her eyes. “How did you mess up something so simple? Even I can do this.”

“Oh.” Looking utterly devastated, he stared at the rice ball. It was impressive how broken he looked, even though his expression didn’t change much.

“Just add salt next time,” Shinobu relented, already tired of insulting him. Like this, he reminded her too much of Kanao when she’d first started learning things. Kanao. Her mind wandered to the Butterfly Estate, to the five girls waiting there. Well, perhaps four now that Kanao had her own duties. Aoi would be worried. She always worried too much. “She won’t like this,” she muttered, half to herself.

Still chewing on his riceball like a hamster, Giyu shot her an inquisitive look. “Who?”

She hadn’t intended to say that aloud. Another clumsy mistake in front of him. Maybe she should just bury him under the wisteria trees; they needed the nourishment. Reticently, she mumbled, “Aoi.”

He only looked at her, perplexed. Shinobu longed for the good old days when she didn’t care about anything. Louder now, she repeated, “Aoi. I’m late from the mission, she must be worried.”

“She isn’t,” Giyu replied immediately.

It took her a full minute to process his response. Gritting her teeth, she asked politely, “Why not?”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” he stated flatly with the absolute assurance that only a complete moron had.

Last Shinobu had heard, there was another water pillar in training. They wouldn’t miss Giyu’s absence for long. Curling her hand into a fist, Shinobu glared at him. “This might be a foreign concept to you, but some people actually care about others.”

Honestly, she wasn’t sure what about him made her so angry. It couldn’t just be his rudeness—Sanemi was twice as rude and she didn’t want to murder him at every encounter. No, it had to be something deeper than that, but she didn’t want to waste her thoughts on it, on him. Focusing instead on her nails digging into her skin, she forced herself to calm down.

Now that her appetite was appeased, however badly, she listened to their surroundings once more. The rain tapped unevenly on the roof, the storm abating slightly. Unfortunately, it was still rain. She was still trapped here with him. Resigning herself to her fate, she shifted to get more comfortable one. “Even in this weather, a demon might come. We’ll have to take shifts,” she announced, rubbing the back of her neck.

Giyu nodded his agreement.

When he didn’t say anything else, Shinobu added irately, “I’ll take first watch.”

Once more, he merely nodded. Rude, lacking manners, utterly unreadable—Shinobu didn’t know how it was possible to find only new disappointments with a single person. The only thing he had going for him was his slightly above-average looks, and even that was ruined the second he did something. Fine, whatever, she thought. It wasn’t like she could sleep comfortably, knowing the only thing between her and death was him.

Leaning forward, she stoked the coals once more, embers flying as she gathered the broken rocks together. “Make sure this doesn’t disappear when it’s your turn.” Satisfied, Shinobu sat back and stretched her arms above her. Maybe she should take a walk after this and smooth out the crinks in her back. “I’ll wake you up in four hours.”

“Okay.” Crossing his arms, Giyu buried his hands in his sleeves. His eyes remained open.

“You know you can sleep, right?” she asked, just in case he didn’t understand what a ‘watch’ meant. The other pillars didn’t like him, after all. Maybe he’d never gone on a mission this long with someone other than her.

“Yes,” he nodded, his eyes still wide open. There was nothing about his stiff posture that looked like a man about to sleep.

It wasn’t worth pursuing it any further. She refused to go bald from the stress of dealing with him. And if he didn’t trust her abilities enough to rest, well, he was the one who wanted to pull an all-nighter.

Making herself comfortable, Shinobu rested her cheek on her hand as she watched the coals. It was going to be a long, uneventful night. Even demons didn’t like coming out on nights like these. In the distance, she heard an owl hoot, the rustling of leaves, the chirping of crickets. The rain almost washed it all out, a steady static noise. It had been too long since she’d had an uneventful night like this.

An hour passed. Then another. Glancing at him from the corner of her eye, she observed Giyu’s profile. He was just as hard to grasp from his side as he had been from the front. Maybe he’d be a mystery to her for her entire life. Tired as she was, that didn’t sound entirely bad.

“You’re strong,” he said, breaking the silence. She wasn’t sure if she was still in her watch or part way through his now.

Drowsy, she retorted, “Of course I am.”

“You’re strong,” he repeated, as though she hadn’t said anything. “So no one has to worry about you. The strong…” he paused. She could feel the weight of it. “The strong come back.”

She didn’t have to ask if that was personal experience. There was only one reason anyone joined the corps, after all. Still, Shinobu wished she was sitting across the fire, still able to see his expression. Or even just was more awake than she was now. His voice had a flavour to it. She could only imagine what he looked like.

Her eyes closed. Opened. Closed again. The next time Shinobu was aware of her surroundings, there was a warmth behind her head and a strong arm around her shoulders. Giyu’s, her fuzzy mind provided helpfully. She should be disgusted, but it was warm and comfortable, so she’d allow it just this once. His breathing was even, as always, and she fell asleep once more to the sound of his heartbeat.

When Shinobu woke up the next morning, she was alone. Curled up on the ground and a jacket covering her shoulders, but utterly alone. Rubbing her eyes, she slowly sat up and glanced around. Sunlight filtered through the holes in the roof, illuminating the place. There wasn’t hide nor hair of Giyu anywhere. It felt almost like a dream, though if it had him in it, it had to be a nightmare.

The only proof that any of it happened was his jacket on her shoulders, keeping her warm. It fell to her lap in a crumpled heap as she straightened up. Gingerly, she picked it up between two fingers, eyeing the fabric distastefully.

What, exactly, was she supposed to do with this? Returning it felt like a loss. Shinobu glanced at the hearth in front of her. She could still burn it in there; even if the coals were gone, there was plenty of dry wood in this house.

She bit her lip, studying the jacket once more. Part of her could still feel the warmth of his shoulder, hear his quiet voice. Shinobu couldn’t return it, couldn’t destroy it. Couldn’t figure out exactly what riled her up about this man. It’d be easier if she didn’t care or was truly as disgusted by him as she acted.

Sighing, she folded the damned fabric. If she couldn’t figure out what to do with it now, she’d just have to keep it until she did.

#giyushino #tomioka giyuu #shinobu kochō #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #fanfic

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zutarasecrettunnel · 3 years

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For Zutara Week 2021 Day 6: Spirits

Your Face, I See

Synopsis: The war is over for everyone but Katara, who keeps seeing the scarred face of the boy who sacrificed himself for her and for the world, everywhere she looks. When she finds out why she is experiencing these so-called hallucinations, she may be led right into a trap centuries in the making.

Read Chapter 1 here or on AO3:

After the war, scars were everywhere.

The earth lay scorched, trees stood singed, soldiers returned mangled to their homelands. The blemishes of war seemed to stain every surface, no mark more personal than the other, all a collective memory of survival for a world too long drenched in strife. None except for the mark that constantly haunted the waterbender. That mark was familiar. Each surface seemed to contain the same ragged skin, the same aged trauma, the same golden eyes.

It had been three months since she had escaped war into peacetime physically unscathed but obliterated nonetheless. Three months of seeing the scar that marked him, the banished prince of the Fire Nation, in nearly every object and landscape that entered her vision. It started in the Fire Nation palace only a week after the cacophony of flame and lightning that had ended the 100 Years War for good. Flickering flames cast the shadow of ruined layers of flesh, folded in on themselves like the staggering billows of crimson curtains they would appear behind. For months she stifled gasps as cat-like eyes seemed to watch her from around the imposing columns of the nation's grandest hall. Flashes, like the one that had taken him during the blaze of Sozin' comet, nothing but small jolts appearing out of nowhere like the snapping of a campfire during a ghost story.

The first time she saw him she almost believed he was real. His face had appeared in the blackness of the doorway of her borrowed chambers one night as she sat rocking at the edge of her bed, having only just awoken from another nightmare. In the soft candleglow, she had almost believed he had miraculously returned. This face was the one she remembered - taciturn, loyal, fragmented, handsome. It was not the ashen face of suffering he had held before finally succumbing to his family's dynasty of cruelty while his sister shrieked in her chains. This face, the one she had so long ago described as the face of the enemy, was the one she had begged the spirits to let her see ever since the Fire Sages had whisked his lifeless form away from her in the smoky aftermath of the Agni Kai.

But that's all it was. His face, unaccompanied by a body, and fading almost as soon as she had been able to adjust her eyes to the sight - a one-time hallucination brought on by sleeplessness. Just another aspect to the nightmare she was experiencing while awake and asleep, a side effect of watching a boy who had quickly become one of her closest friends die in her arms. As the plain blackness returned, so did Katara's heartbeat, sputtering back to work as if it had forgotten its role in her body and only just now remembered it had to keep her alive. She blinked again and again, feeling wetness on her cheeks. She would not sleep for the rest of the night.

It wasn't until the next time she saw him that she started to become concerned. His face appeared again ten days later, this time emanating from the bark of the willow tree near the royal turtleduck pond, illuminated plainly by the midday rays of the Fire Nation sun.This time it could not be blamed on candlelight and tired eyes. The waterbender gasped, dropping the rice ball she held. It rolled ungracefully into the pond, immediately being devoured by a small family of turtleducks.Her companions stopped their own consumption at the sound of her sharp intake. Sokka stared at his sister with concern. Suki followed her stare to the willow tree, looking back at the younger girl puzzled. Toph was the only one who continued nibbling absentmindedly on her own rice ball as if she hadn't noticed Katara's outburst at all.

"What is it?" Aang's voice broke through Katara's shock. She blinked, and already the second hallucination of the prince was gone.

"N-nothing," she stuttered, trying to recover, "it's nothing. I thought I saw a cave hopper and I-I-I thought they only lived in the caves!" She felt a reassuring touch on her elbow, looking to see Sokka offering a half-smile. He had noticed the deep circles forming under her eyes, the way any upturn of her mouth never reached them. Unsure of what else to do, he offered his presence as some semblance of reassurance to his sister, trying to impart that he was there for her no matter what.

"Oh," was the only response from the Avatar, hesitation clear in the single syllable. He hated seeing Katara like this, jumpy and anxious. None of them had been the same since Zuko had entered the spirit world, despite how they had all tried to move on. They had gotten everything they had worked for, an end to the century-long suffering of the four nations, but the cost seemed as if it was too great to bear. He worried he would never see the carefree Katara he had spent so much time trying to cultivate in the overburdened young girl again. The world was finally better, finally the way she deserved it to be, and yet he still couldn't make her happy.

The already somber mood of the group's lunch only soured more. It was then Katara decided she would work harder at keeping the ghostly image of the fire prince at bay, or at least keeping her hallucinations to herself. Despite her silent commitment, the visions only got worse. As time went on they became more frequent. First it became every day, then what seemed like every hour. Everywhere she went in the palace, in the streets of the capitol marketplaces, and even on the shores where she sought the healing nature of her element. Every inch of this vibrant and troubled nation was haunted for her, from the planned peace festivals to the pop-up protests of the now displaced ruling class. She stayed to help Aang restore order, working to ensure the stability of the nation her friend had so dearly loved, the nation whose honor he had sacrificed everything for.

With the increase in frequency of the hauntings, so increased the abject panic rising in Katara. It was becoming more difficult to hide her affliction from the others. After months of torment, while floating secluded in the star-speckled waves of a small, hidden inlet not far from the crater's edge, she finally asked for help.

The rising tide sent salt water lapping at her skin, while her eyes caused it to flood her face. She would often seek healing in these waters, but had so far been unsuccessful in drowning her grief. Tonight she basked in Yue's light, and finally got the courage to beg her celestial friend for relief.

She wasn't sure it would work, ignorant to the communication abilities of the spirits, but desperation consumed her. She had heard Sokka try talking to the moon shortly after they had left the Northern Water Tribe, sadness laden in his usually upbeat voice. She suddenly wondered if he had also seen visions of the princess after she had left them.

"Please, spirits. Please, Yue," she began her sorrowful overture to the large lunar surface overhead, floating parallel to the enormous heavenly body. "Why do I keep seeing him? Why do I keep seeing Zuko?"

She swallowed hard in the ensuing silence, trying to wait patiently for an answer. She was met only with a quiet, steady glow. Eyes closed tightly in despair, she listlessly started swimming back to the shore. As she neared the empty beach she heard the velvety cadence of the moon spirit speak softly between her ears.

"I know you miss him."

Katara froze in the water, settling upright, her toes sinking into silky sand. The ocean still covered her up to her shoulders. The voice arose in her again.

"Tui and La must circle each other in an eternal dance. One is not complete without the other. This is not what was meant to be," she explained. "Your anguish has pierced even the spirit world, and many have taken note."

Katara let her body sway loosely in the waves as she listened intently, her sand-covered feet her only anchor to this world.

"There are some that might use-" The sweet tones emanating from the pale night sky were sharply interrupted by a graveled voice. The new voice called out loudly, direct and authoritative.

"Katara!"

At the sound of that voice calling her name, she snapped her body toward the beach, searching the dimly lit shore for it's source. She hesitated for only a split second, taking one last glance at the moon, before summoning a grand swell of ocean to deliver her directly to the dry sands. Once ashore, she continued seeking the source of the voice. Her eyes darting from dark cliffs to jagged palm fronds, her heart beating wildly.

Finally she saw it, and immediately crumpled into the sand.

It was his face again, staring back at her from a rocky, moonlit crag. Just as it had been the hundred times before, his expression was serene, tranquil. Except this time it changed. This time the face curled into a twisted smile, an expression more suited for the deposed Phoenix King than his son. She stared, horrified, watching the distorted lips form the syllables of her name over and over. When it turned, revealing a hulking, segmented body like that of an enormous centipede, she finally screamed.

She could hear Zuko's voice continuing to call her name, begging her to help him, as she quickly picked herself off the ground and darted past the monster back toward the palace, heading recklessly into the heavy night.

#zutara #not me writing a whole ass chapter fic for zutara week!#it will not be done before the end of the week #but i will try not to abandon it!#zutara week 2021 #zutara fanfiction #better late than never #zk week 2021 #zutara week day 6 #this is gonna be a short chapter fic #with short chapters #unfortunately i dont have time to write an epic #im still on hiatus from my wip

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sabraeal · 3 years

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Get Up Eight, Chapter 7

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Free Space

The air is sweet outside of Hiratsuka; the ocean’s salt still carries its pale sting on the breeze, but it cannot compete with the last of the spring’s harvest. The paddies are flooded still, slowly draining under the heat of the sun; wet earth weighs down the air’s sweetness, rich and full. This far into the season it is gold and green as far as the eye can see, set over a shimmering stretch of blue; a precious comb laid on silk. But this, this is finer than any gift an emperor could give his concubines. Ryo might buy jade and sapphires, but it could not buy a moment in time, experienced with all the senses of the body.

The threshing would come soon, as the end came for all beautiful things. The fields will be allowed to dry, and in weeks, this ground would lie fallow, a barren marshy plain awaiting its next use. But impermanence is a part of beauty, what made a sight such as this so precious and so dear. Just as petals fell from cherry trees, or snow sifted from the winter sky, this moment only existed in the here and now. In mere days, all of this would be gone.

Even Obi slows ahead of her, hands resting on the tight nip of his hips. Stalks spring thickly up beside the road, paddies dug so close the cobbles have sunk, curving the edges of the walkway like a scroll unfurled. He stands in the middle of it, a samurai out of a wood-block print, surveying his domain--

“Well,” he huffs, turning his chin over his shoulder. “It sure smells like shit.”

Shirayuki tries to stifle it, to keep the noise buried deep in her chest, but it’s impossible-- a laugh hiccups up between her lips, and try as she might, her sleeve doesn’t muffle it a single bit.

“What, ojou-san?” His mouth quirks at a corner, too sly for innocence. “Don’t you think so?”

Now that he mentions it...yes. That sweet earthy smell mixed with standing water gives off a fragrance that only a fly could love. The rice may be sweet on the wind and salt may still roll through with a breeze, but when the skies were quiet and her feet were still, it savored of nothing so strongly as the pies oxen dropped on the road.

Not that she’d ever give her samurai the satisfaction of agreeing.

“Surely it isn’t so bad as all that.” She takes in a large, pointed breath, and prays she won’t cough. “I only smell sweet grass.”

Both narrow brows scurry up his forehead, rumpling his scar. “Is that so, ojou-san?”

With a sharp smile he swaggers over to one of the sparse pines clinging onto the road, dropping down into a squat. “Then you won’t mind if we take our rest here?”

“W-what?” There’s barely any room for the cobbles, and none at all for two travelers trying to stay off them. And the smell...

“Come on.” He pats the muddy ground beside him; it splats beneath his palm. “This water looks healing if I do say so myself. Perfect to rest your poor feet in.”

Shirayuki casts a dubious glance over the road’s edge, knowing full well what she will find. These paddies are not freshly filled, water sparkling blue under the fair sky like in the ukiyo-e; oh no, this is a field left to drain, the water growing murkier with every day, probably rife with leeches and worse. Fine for plants, but for her poor, weeping blisters--

Well, she’d certainly collect quite a few friends putting her feet in there. They would be such a comfort before she succumbed to whatever infection stagnant water gave her. He blisters throb at the thought.

“We should keep going,” she informs him steadily. “Weren’t you just saying there was much road left to be traveled?”

At least, that had been his excuse in Hiratsuka. No time for dallying, ojou-san, he’d told her, slipping a vendor a few mon for the onigiri in her hands. We’ll have to sleep on the road if the light fades before we get to Odawara.

Obi doesn’t exactly frown; such an expression isn’t in his nature-- instead his mouth pulls to the precise width of the line she’s toeing.

“Well,” he hums his dangerous way, the sort that says only her twelve ryo stand between his hand and her cheek. His body unfurls to standing with an exaggerated slowness, a threat in every curl of his limbs. “Since ojou-san doesn’t need a break, I suppose we can walk all the way to Oiso.”

Her ronin stands across from her, kimono threadbare, hakama in hardly better shape, arms folded across his narrow chest. She knows that cock to his hip, that hint of a smirk on his face-- he expects her to fold, he expects her to beg like the delicate ojou-san she’s pretending to be.

Even wrapped tight under her tabi, the warabi loosely tied, her feet ache. Kino’s wife would plead to stop-- no, command him to. Either way, she would merely confirm what he already knew; she was a pampered fine lady, unable to keep up with the grueling pace he set. A burden he would be made to bear all the way to Kyoto.

Shirayuki shifts the sack on her back, Buddha’s hand pressing into her spine. “Fine. Let us keep going.”

Marsh bleeds into hills, the road flattening and slanting both, reeds rising up into pines. The shade is a welcome reprieve, as is the sea breeze that stirs the branches overhead and sends shadows to dance at her feet. Even as nature’s wonder presses in around her, Shirayuki cannot help but think she might be able to enjoy it better if her feet were not about to pop off at the ankle.

Oiso is hardly an hour’s walk from Hiratsuka, but every step is on needles, stabbing wherever her sole touches cobble. Still, still-- she will not relent. Surely they would see the post for the shukuba at any moment, and then she might--

“Ojou-san?” A shadow falls over her; even if she could not see the patched hem of his hakama, the scent of his sweat, clean and earthy, would give him away. His hands hover at her shoulders, steadying without touch. “Are you all right?”

“Ah!” She steps back, covering a wince with a smile. “No, no. I’m just fine. I can keep up! Oiso is only a few miles away, isn’t it?”

“It is.” He shifts back, arms folding into a forbidding bar of steel across her vision. “Do your feet hurt, ojou-san?”

His tone might be playful, a little sing-song like a child at play, but it is a knowing gaze that he wears, fixed to the hem of her kimono. She shuffles her feet, hoping they fall into shadow-- if only she had bought new tabi in Hiratsuka, she would have had a few more hours before the blood stained the new cloth.

His breath hisses through his teeth like a palpable hit. “Ojou-san!”

Ah, so he’s seen it. That will make this conversation a hair more difficult.

“Don’t worry about me!” she yelps, sweeping away from the hands that would grab her, that would hold her in place to behold the extent of her foolishness. “It can wait until we get to Oiso-juku!”

He shakes his head, sitting back on his heels. “We’ll rest.”

Her cheeks puff out with annoyance. “Aren’t I the one who makes those decisions, samurai-dono?”

His mouth pulls thin for a moment, considering her, but the next has it bent in a bright smile. “All right then. Let’s rest. We can have some of those onigiri in your pack.”

Shirayuki longs to protest-- she did not make her way trading on feminine weakness in Yokohama, and she was not about to start here and now because this man would let her-- but her stomach growls long and loud, a beggar on its knees.

“Well,” she murmurs, looking away from that smug grin. “If you insist.”

“You know.” Obi’s fingers pluck nimbly at the twine knotted around the bamboo leaf, slipping it open with a firm tug on one end. Inside, the rice still steams, just cool enough to touch. “If you had said something, we could have stopped at Hiratsuka.”

Shirayuki looks up, her legs stretched out before her, wiggling her toes with a grimace. She spares him a raised brow, managing only a strained, “Could we have?”

His mouth opens, then closes again. Gold eyes shine almost green in the shade of the pine trees, but they drop away before she can determine whether it is merely a trick of the light. “Maybe.”

Her lips press tight as she watches him, long fingers separating one sticky triangle off from the others. “You’re worried. Did something happen...?”

At the hatago, Shirayuki assumes, but caution stills her tongue. The days she has spent with him have been long, but still-- she’s known him for only three. What trouble dogs his steps now may have been bought and paid for long before she knelt across from him in a tea house and offered twelve ryo to take her away from her own.

“Should I rewrap them?”

Her head jolts up; the amber of his eyes waits to trap her, honey-warm with curiosity. He presses the still-warm onigiri into her palm, and she-- she nearly says no. She may be smaller than him, but she’s not a child. A single rice ball would not a meal make.

But then he chucks his chin downward, toward where her feet sit bare save for the bandages.

“Oh,” she breathes, flexing them. Even that small movement sends pain lancing up her legs. “No, not yet.”

He shifts, mouth rumpled into a dubious knot. “It’s soaked through in places.”

“It’s fine.” Sour plum bursts on her tongue, rice sticking to her teeth as she tries to hurry it along. “It will take too much time to tend to now.”

If anything, his frown deepens. “I can work quick, ojou-san. You said last night that I’d done a good job.”

“I...” A frisson ran through her when he’d cupped her heel in his palm, fingers brushing over her blisters with a gentleness she had not expected from a man as rough as him. And when his hand had slid higher, gripping her calf to hold her in place-- “It can wait. Until we stop.”

Until she is sure she won’t need her legs to support her afterward.

He hums, unconvinced, but settles back onto his seat, knees crossed in front of him. If he were born to a greater station, there would be block prints of him like this, desultory and cross-legged, moments away from a war.

“Oiso is close by,” he reminds her, as if she did not tell him the same only minutes ago. “If the pain’s too much, let me know. We can always stop for the night.”

She swallows her bite of onigiri, watching him steadily. “Would you stop on your own?”

He lets out a long, annoyed breath. “No.”

“Then we’ll press on to Odawara.” She offers him a soft smile. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not a short walk,” he warns her, impatience creeping into his tone. “If you’re really hurting--”

“I know.” She smiles. “I’ll tell you.”

He leans back on his hands, a laugh rasping out of his throat. “I doubt that. You’d faint before you’d admit you can’t keep up.”

She lets out a huff. She can’t say it’s not true, but all the same, he doesn’t have to say it. “I--”

“Well, well.” A man emerges from the pines, lips stretched to a smile so wide that her own cheeks hurt. “Look at what we have here, boys.”

Shirayuki jumps-- not far, stretched out as she is, but enough to tuck her feet beneath her kimono, hiding the bandages. Obi’s already got his own beneath him, his knuckles bone white where they wrap around his hilt. His gaze fixes on the treeline, steady and gold, the way a tiger might watch from the long grass, and her breath catches. Obi might wear a man’s skin, but in this moment he is more wolf than warrior, a predator in the guise of its prey.

But that man doesn’t see it. He strides into the copse, blades rattling at his side, heedlessly smiling at his death. “No need for that, oni-san.”

Obi’s hilt creaks beneath his grip. “I’m not your brother.”

Her eyes blink wide, searching the strained planes of his face. This man may be a stranger, unwelcome in their company, but to be so unconscionably rude-- well, Shirayuki can hardly countenance it. Not from a man who slid goshujin through his teeth like steel bared from its sheath, a man who wielded manners as a weapon--

A man who knows that his rudeness would mark them more than submission. She’d seen what counted as fighting words when she ran the sake house; not a single bushi worth his blade would let a ronin parry their generous parity.

But still, this one only smiles. Wider now, the sharp edges of his eyeteeth cresting the ridge of his lips.

“Oh, no?” Men shuffle through the trees, the boughs obscuring their gaunt faces, but still, Shirayuki is sure-- they don’t smile like this samurai. No, ronin. He might have the paired blades wrapped at his hips, but there’s no crest on his haori, only a single long tail winding over his shoulders from the hair at his nape, instead of a bushi’s top-knot. “But we shared a drink back at the hatago, didn’t we?”

Shirayuki takes in the worn hem of this ronin’s hakama, the meticulously mended seams of his haori, the fine material his kimono had once been; none of it is familiar, nor is his face. “Obi-dono?”

Something twitches in the depths of Obi’s jaw. A flicker of recognition, perhaps, to pair with the fleet warning that lopes across his eyes.

“Having a rest, I see?” the ronin observes, edging ever closer to the clearing, his men jostling around him. Three of them, plus the headman; more than any man could manage, no matter how skilled Obi might be. “Now, we were just thinking the same thing, weren’t we?”

Tension thickens the air, and there’s no reason for it, none at all. Not unless her yojimbo is restless, eager to prove to her his prowess. It’s an exhibition that she is less than enthused to participate in, especially with these odds.

“Please.” There is no sake house for her to serve, but her old role drops over her like a mask, mouth stretching into that close-lipped smile, hiding in behind her sleeve. “Come in. I mean--” Obi stares at her, chin slowly shaking, a silent plea-- “please, come sit.”

It’s his stare-- pupils pinprick small with shock, white a thin ring all around the gold-- that reminds her that she’s still looking up. Her eyes drop, fixing to the stranger’s hands, where no dirt lingers beneath his nails, each one diligently picked and scrubbed to cleanliness. But no-- it must drop farther still, down to rest demurely on her knees. Already she's done too much, said too much; a hostess speaks to custom with ease, but a retiring ojou-san in the company of her retainer...

She would be silent. A woman ready to fade into the background as the men carried on her business.

Shirayuki shifts, rolling up to rest on her knees, head bowed. Not three days on the road, and already the role she has chosen for herself chafes.

“Well, since onee-san has been so kind.” The man saunters from the shade, crouching down to a kneel. “It would be rude to refuse.”

Obi’s jaw works, a rebuttal brewing on his lips, but she holds out a hand instead, quelling. Her palm brushes over his knee, the muscles hovering beneath her fingertips going tense, his breath caught in his chest--

And she jolts it away, letting it hover safely over him instead. Still, he lowers onto his feet, placing the blade at his side. The right side, she notes with satisfaction, until he rolls back, legs crossing at the ankle before him, hands braced on his knees. A shogun’s stance, she had thought when Kino took it, but Obi in his threadbare kimono, juban long since lost, and faded hakama...

He makes it look like trouble.

Shirayuki swallows a grimace, bowing her head over her hands. “You are too kind, oni-san--” Obi grunts, displeasure stark on his sharp face, but at least leaves his protest to that-- “please, partake in our meal as well. We have only just started.”

Obi swivels toward her, betrayal writ clear in his eyes, but there’s nothing for it. She’s already asked the headman to sit; she can’t possibly ask him to starve. Not unless Obi would like to risk these men finding them on another stretch of road, far from any shukuba, the night much closer, their minds less wary.

The ronin casts a lingering glance at the onigiri still on the leaf, his tongue tracing the barest path over his lips--

“It is you who are too kind, onee-san, by offering,” he says, the picture of well-born courtesy. “We’d be happy to. As long as you don’t mind sharing our food as well?”

Obi blinks. “Your food?”

The headman holds up a hand, and at once his ronin come forward, dropping their sacks in front of them, and--

“Oh,” Shirayuki breathes, staring at the array of bento tumbled across their makeshift camp. Thinking of what they might well find inside them, her stomach shivers, just short of making its anticipation known. “Well, if you insist...”

As each lid springs open on the men’s hakubento, a feast spills forth: rolled egg and minced fish cakes, soy bears and boiled lotus, taro and shiitake. One has whole, simmered shrimp with pickled ginger, and the water in her mouth nearly leaks out at the sight of it.

“So much,” Shirayuki murmurs, palms pressed flat to her thighs. “Where did you get it all?”

“The hatago.” The ronin’s mouth lifts at a corner, gaze darting to where Obi sits beside her, stiff. “I’m surprised your man didn’t have them pack one for you.”

She resists looking at him, just waits until he’s finished his sticky bite of onigiri to say, “We were in a hurry.”

The ronin’s reply is a sly flash of teeth. “Hope you made it where you were going.”

Obi settles back onto his heels. “Not fast enough.”

It’s an answer made to be muttered, but Obi enunciates every syllable clearly, punctuating it with an insolent lift of his gaze, meeting the man’s with a pointed finality. It’s her first instinct to scold him, the way she might with Kino-san when he acted out of turn, but her breath catches in her chest.

She would do that. Her, a girl raised beneath the bar of a sake house, used to putting men in their place before they reached too far out of it. But a young ojou-san, naive to the ways of the world-- she would sit silent, letting the men speak their piece. If a fight broke out, she might scream, covering her fear with her sleeves, and hope for the best. Ah, never has she been so ill-suited for a role before.

It doesn’t matter in the end; the ronin only twitches his mouth to mark it before turning to her, smile firmly seated on his lips.

“I’m the headman of this outfit.” The man pats his chest, drawing her attention back to the fine material worn thin, to the juban that is still meticulously white when it has not yellowed at the collar. “They call me Mihaya.”

No family name, she notes. That’s fine enough for her. “And I’m Shirayuki.”

She casts a pointed glance toward Obi, willing him to show one glimmer of the respect he pays every other creature that’s made their acquaintance, but he makes no move to introduce himself. Instead he only reaches forward, past all the fine foods Mihaya’s men have provided, and picks up the last of their onigiri.

“Are you going to have this, ojou-san?” he asks, so mild. “Or should I?”

She draws in a deep, steadying breath. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine with sharing with the others.”

His lip juts at that, sullen, but it disappears behind a sharp smile. “Well then, more for me.”

Her only solace in his rudeness is that at least Mihaya’s companions return with the same, too busy stuffing their mouths to pay attention to propriety. Even with such fine bento as these, they dig into each box like men who haven’t eaten in days instead of mere hours ago.

“You must be from around here.”

Shirayuki startles, attention whipping back toward where the headman sits smiling, one hand brace on his knee. “Since you’re traveling south, I mean. Unless you’re traveling back home, onee-san?”

“Oh, no. I’m from--” Obi’s warning glance stills her too-honest response-- “not so far away.”

“Thought so.” There’s a conspiratorial sparkle in his eye as he leans toward her. “I don’t see many of your kind on the road, at least not without an entourage.”

“Oh.” Her fingers clench in her kimono, keeping her seated. She should have thought of that; a girl from a family with money to spare would have sent her with a handful of men, carrying her from Edo to Kyoto slung like precious cargo between them. “I thought-- I mean, my grandfather thought traveling with one guard would draw less attention than a dozen.”

“Might keep more eyes off you, sure,” Mihaya agrees, crunching on a slice of taro. “But it’s safer to have more men when the roads get...rough. You get set on by bandits, and one sword won’t do you much good, onee-san.”

“Is that so?” she asks mildly. “I thought-- what is the saying? Having a single, well-made blade is better than a thousand that will break on the first strike.”

Obi coughs.

“True enough, onee-san.” The headman’s smile wears thinner with each word. “And it’s so much harder to find quality nowadays.”

They have only known each other this past hour, but already, Shirayuki finds little quarrel with Mihaya or his manners; at least, not as much as she does with Obi and his, but still--

Still, she mislikes the smug glance he cuts toward Obi, his gaze raking up his worn and well-mended clothes, the lack of his juban, and clearly, clearly-- finding him wanting.

“For some.” There’s a bite to her voice that surprises her, but she likes it. “I am fortunate indeed to have found such an exemplary bushi as Obi. I could hardly wish for better.”

Mihaya’s expression crumples like a paper lantern in the rain. “I’m sure--”

“Where are you from, Mihaya-san?” she interjects; the last thing they need is to have this rest spoiled by this odd hostility between headman and yojimbo. Especially if it might force her to admit she’s only had her exemplary guard for all of two days. “You don’t sound like a man from Edo.”

A dark shadow flits over his face, like a cloud passing over the sun, gone before she’s ever truly seen it. “Here and there.”

The west, his accent says, though it’s too crisp to be from any common man. Just like his clothes, his voice betrays him. Still, there’s no reason to push; plenty of men have left their domains these days. With tension between the shogun and emperor--

Well, Shirayuki wouldn’t want to be a man with a blade in hand. Samurai had once lived and died by the sword before the shogun wrenched the domains beneath him and brought an end to the warring states. But with all the silken pillows being pulled from beneath the tender seats of the daimyo, blades rattle in their sheaths, threatening its return.

“Where are you off to, onee-san?” Mihaya’s smile is brittle as he sits back, eyes casting her a hooded, measuring glance. “Not all the way to Kyoto I hope.”

Obi shifts, restless beside her. Her fingers sweep out subtly between them, thumb and small finger spanning the gap. It stills him, but not his grunt, wary and dissatisfied. Too cautious, her yojimbo. To avoid so obvious a question only means she has something to hide.

And she does, she does, but none of these men need to know it. Let them think her a loose-lipped ojou-san, if they wished. Better than a girl with no family and a dozen ryo in her bag, with only one guard to keep her safe. “I am.”

Mihaya whistles, long and low, impressed. “That’s a long journey for an ojou-san like yourself. What’s so important in Kyoto?”

“Ah...” A cousin, she should say. That’s what she told Obi, after all, and one story was easier to keep track of than a dozen. But still, there’s something in the headman’s eyes that demands more, than makes a cousin seem a pale prize to crawl across a country for.

“A husband,” Obi offers, so easy. “Arranged. You know how these things are. Ryo flows through fingers easy enough, but blood binds. Man’s eager to have her too.”

“A girl as pretty as this one?” Mihaya laughs, giving her a demonstrative glance. “I can believe it.”

“How about you, Mihaya-san?” she asks, if only to keep from more speculation. “Where are you and your men heading?”

“Funny you should ask, onee-san.” His mouth twitches, almost triumphant. “Kyoto. Just like you are.”

#obiyukibingo21 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #freespace #Get Up Eight #samurai AU #edo AU #my fic #ans #I think this is the first time since Seven Suitors where I have posted a fic on my birthday #actually did I post the second chap on time?? i no longer remember #this might in fact be the first time #there are moments in this fic I am DYING to get to #but the idea of doing this Mihaya plotline was too exciting #i mean who could say no to an onsen episode...not me #and so now we are getting this mihaya mini-arc #before some of the other plot-centric parts >:3c

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needs-to-stop-looking-at-yigas · 3 years

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Hahaha sooo SOMEONE is experiencing really bad pms cramps and so I was wondering if you could by any chance write something with Pomma and Sooga? Like- Pomma is on her 🩸 too and Sooga is pampering her like the fucking simp he is? And maybe he’s into period sex too idk lol I’m just going off on a tangent here 😭

Fucking, period club my bitch. Let me see what I can do for you man.

"Pomma? I'm back, I hope you weren't waiting too long."

Kohga was out on some meeting with Rhoam, so it was up to Sooga to cheer up his other love in his life; Pomma. She was raked in pain and agony. Body acting and bloated and bleeding-Sooga could only imagine this awful this period was. He knew what to do, having grown up in a house full of women, but he could only partially understand her strife.

She looked up from her bed, groaning. Her hair was a mess, and she looked exhausted, but he still found her stunning. He set the tray down, and placed the hot rag on her lower stomach. He did research, and this was something that was supposed to help the cramps.

"Oof...thank you, Soogy. Did you-"

"Get what you requested? Absolutely. I apologize I couldn't make It, but I feel like you'd like some actually good seafood paella. I DID catch the fish myself though."

"Aw, how sweet of you. My big, strong Soogy, going out and fishing for his lady~"

She held onto his strong, pretty chin, and watched him melt into her touch. It wasn’t until she let him go, that he recalled what he was doing. Right, Sooga, focus. He cleared his throat, helping her sit up, before grabbing a spoonful of the fragrant looking rice. Despite her chuckling at it, he still spoon fed it to her, even going so far as to clean her face when she had just a small bit of mess on her pretty features. He could tell she wasn't savoring it though, and he knew exactly why.

"Pomma."

"Come on! I've been begging for it all daaaay."

She whined. Sooga sighed, putting the bowl down, before reaching for the small box. Kohga liked having all sorts of expensive and fancy treats to himself, but Sooga was the only one to know the hiding spot. He wouldn't mind missing a few, surely. She sat there eagerly, finally having something that DIDN'T suck today. Caramels, fudge, nuts- all types of goodies, all for her. She cut out the middle man, and yoinked the box from his hands, helping herself blissfully. Sooga chuckled, taking a minute to watch her.

"Satisfied?"

"Uh huh. I mean, sucks for you, YOU have to explain what happened to Kohga’s candy."

"Oh he'll understand. Hopefully. Regardless, you let me worry about him. I want to cater to you in every way I can. You're precious and beautiful to me."

She groaned, laying back down in quite a grumpy way.

"Ugh, I don't FEEL beautiful. I feel gross and bloated. I'm like a hippo."

"...a pretty hippo?"

"I will show your balls what I'm going through."

Sooga held his hands up a bit in defense.

"Apologies, thought it'd be funny. But truly, I find you just as beautiful today as I did yesterday. Every single bit of you."

She licked what remained of the chocolate from her fingers, before looking in his direction.

"You're not just saying that, are you?"

He took her hand in his, nodding as he gave it a light squeeze.

"You look incredible. Truly. The only woman I can find myself attracted to."

She chuckled, running her fingers through her hair. He loved it when she did that. Always made her look so pretty.

"Wish I could feel that. Instead I just feel all bloated and in pain and just, MONSTER horny, it's bullshit."

Sooga cocked his head to the side.

"You...you feel aroused. While you're on your period?"

"Well not EVERY woman, obviously, but I do a huge chunk of the time, yeah."

"Would you like me to help?"

Pomma raised a brow at him, as if he just said something stupid.

"You know I'm bleeding, right? Like. A lot. You'd be putting your dick in that."

"I have no qualms,"

He puffed out his chest a bit, not at all wanting to disappoint his love. Even though the idea DID make him hesitate, just a bit.

"I mean, what man would I be, if I couldn't have you as you were?"

She looked him up and down, expecting some punchline. When she didn’t get any, she seemed just a bit hesitant.

"I don't know, Sooga. I mean, I would LOVE that, really, but this isn't your speed, and-"

He cut her off when he pressed his lips against hers. It was just a simple enough of a distraction for him to slip his hands past her clothes, kneading and massaging at her chest. Oh, the way she moaned into his mouth. He pulled away, but kept his forehead pressed against hers.

"I will not force myself upon you. But I beg you to let me prove myself to you. I beg you let me soothe you in any way I can."

She let her hand glide up his chest slowly, as if she was just noticing his muscular form.

"I...okay. But if the blood grosses you out, I don't expect you to keep going, okay?"

He nodded. He peeled off her clothes, ever amazed by her body. Beautiful, full, abundant in stretch marks and soft flesh. He started off with her chest, tongue twirling the nipple in his mouth, his other hand pinching and pulling. She wasn't kidding when she said she was aroused. Her hands were on him in a second, feeling up his frame greedily, and legs were twitching oh so adorably.

"Hmmm...you can't wait too much longer, can you?"

"Don't act so cocky-"

"But you like that. I can see it by the way you look at me. You want me to take care of you. And I VERY much enjoy doing just that."

He usually wasn't so coy, especially with Pomma, but he couldn’t help it. Her flushed cheeks left him unable to be so restrained. He sat up for a minute, and made quite the show of taking his clothes off (save for the mask), just to give her something nice to look at. Once nude, he pulled her closer by her big, pretty thighs, pressing his hard cock against her absolutely soaked pussy. She looked up at him, lightly smacking him at his core.

"You suck. What happened to my good boy? Not this. Cocky fuckhead."

"This 'cocky fuckhead' made you laugh though, didn't he?"

He leaned down to kiss her precious nose, before slipping inside of her. He watched her lips quiver as soon as he felt him inside of her. He pushed himself fully into her, until his balls pressed against her ass. He studied her face, not looking underneath them. All that mattered was that she was wet for him, and that her face oozed pleasure. She grabbed at his frame, and the sight of her melting around him; there wasn't a sight in all of Hyrule that looked as beautiful.

"S-shit, mommy needed this."

"I can tell. You haven't smiled like this all day. And that, is by far, the MOST arousing thing about you. Now please, let me see how content I've made you."

Sooga always knew how to treat her. Knew her body needed a certain pace or a certain touch.

"S-Sooga-"

He could read her like a battlefield. He gave her exactly what she wanted. He hoisted her feet over his shoulders, pushing his cock right into that perfect spot. Her head tossed itself back, her giant breasts bounced in time with his thrusts, and with the help of a firm hand on her ever sensitive clit, she came. He knew her cute little toes curled when she came, and it made his heart absolutely melt for her. He pulled himself out slowly.

"You're lovely. Radiant. Precious. Ganon himself would love to have the chance to touch-FUCKING HELL."

She snapped out of her lust fueled daze quickly, looking up at him in panic.

"WHAT'S WRONG?!"

"Apologies, I uh. Just saw I'm covered in blood, and I panicked. Thought I hurt you. Or me."

"Did. Did you think you broke your dick??"

"I'm no medical expert, but I didn't rule that out."

"Oh my god I just got my g-spot hit by an absolute moron."

"A moron who loves you."

She laughed into her hand, shaking her head. Her body was sweaty, blood was at her thighs, and her heart was trying to calm the fuck down.

"Yeah. I love you too. Come here, give mommy some sugar~"

"Yes ma'am."

He leaned down to pepper her sweet lips in kisses, before she softly cupped his face in her hands.

"You take such good care of me."

"You deserve to be cared for. Now, how about I start you a nice, hot bath, and change the sheets for you?"

"Depends. Do I get the fancy bath salts?"

"Anything less would bring shame to my name, my darling."

How could he have been so lucky, to be able to help someone so incredible?

#asks #lemon #sooga #listen in canon hes like #so not into pussy #but for you bitch #his ass is sucking it up #pomma

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imaginesmai · 4 years

Text

Peter Parker - No more fondue on my watch

This got a little out of hand... Hope you like it @peterwandaparker!

Plot: Peter and you have been together for a while now, but nothing can go past Captain America eagle’s eyes.

Warnings (or notes): SMUT or nearly smut, but there is a dick. And this is Peter Parker x Rogers!reader. Let’s be honest, there is a bit of Stony

You bit your lip, uncrossing your legs and doing it again just by pure nervousness. Or boredom, that worked too. There was a ray of sun that had moved since you had arrived the length of the table. If you fixed your eyes there for a long time, just like you had been doing, you could see it moving; and it was the most entertaining thing you had done since you had woken up. And you had woken up really, really early.

But that’s what you got when you lived in another district, you wanted to look presentable for him, and your father was Captain America, who could have a heart attack if you were late once more. Who wasn’t as punctual as your father was Tony, the engineer who still was in his lab for sure.

You weren’t uncomfortable in the tower, but you had places to be instead of the living room. Like, your boyfriend’s room.

“Hey dad” you tried.

Steve was wearing what you called ‘I’m gonna meet my crush’ attire. Tight grey shirt, black jeans and a fairly big amount of hair gel. He was reading a book of his list of ‘things I missed under ice’, which in your opinion was too long and boring. But he insisted in completing it, maybe just for the sake of Tony, who wrote it.

He raised a brow at you, his eyes not leaving the book but letting you know that he was aware. You coughed to make you sound as casual as possible, because sneaking out on Captain America wasn’t easy.

“How… much longer?”

“I don’t know” he gave you the same answer for the fifth time. “Whenever Tony finishes what he’s doing. It’s not like you have anything better to do, Y/N”

You bit your remark about your plans; any plan, actually, was better than waiting in the compound in silence since seven in the morning.

“But I’m hungry” you said, and Steve raised his head finally. You contained the proud smirk.

“Didn’t you have breakfast at your mother’s?”

Steve Rogers was a man of a diet. He didn’t have chocolate, sweets, fried stuff or anything that could be bad for health, and he forced anyone who lived with him to have 5 meals per day. The thing was that you were still a minor, and you didn’t always live with him.

Your mother and Steve didn’t have the perfect relationship, you could say. They were both wonderful people, but too stubborn to get along. So it pained you to lie about her, but that was the only way to get around your dad.

“Not really, since you woke me up at five” you almost barked, still hurt that he had blasted your phone away. “But mom wasn’t awake and there was no milk”

“I can’t believe that’s how she raise a child” Steve tightened his jaw. “What’s next? Telling me you had pizza for dinner?”

With extra cheese, actually

“No, dad” you lied again, salivating at the thought of pizza. “Can I eat something or should I starve to death?”

Steve was quiet for a while. He was against every type of snack; and if he ever pardoned one, was that tasteless rice pancake without fats, sugar or salt. It felt like eating cotton. He looked at the clock of his wrist, and sighed, going back to reading the book.

“Try not to raze Tony’s pantry, please” he gave up. “And don’t eat anything that has … just try to avoid eating Nutella from the jar”

You chuckled and hoped off the sofa, speeding to the kitchen. Closing the door behind you, you marvelled at the huge space in front of you. It was probably bigger than your father’s and mother’s apartment. Without wasting another beat, you walked to the fridge and enjoyed the opportunity of the free card of food.

The fridge was full of things that you couldn’t even name, but you were more than aware that that’s who Tony was. You contented yourself with a ham and turkey sandwich. Knowing you weren’t going to go back to your father, you made another one and reached for the bag of chips in the top counter.

You were just putting everything in the tray along with two juices when your phone sounded.

Petey-pie [9:39]: i’m getting up early 4 u

Petey-pie [9:39]: hurt not to wake up by u smashing a pillow on my head

Petey-pie [9:39]: where are u

You sent a quick reply, telling him to stop being so needy and that you would be there in a minute. His room was on the other side of the compound, so you weren’t worried about running into your father; besides, luck seemed to smile at you, because you heard Tony’s voice from the living room greeting him.

And you knew that Tony was enough to keep your father busy for a few hours; after all, he didn’t put the ‘I’m gonna meet my crush’ attire for nothing.

You picked up the tray and tiptoed toward the other end of the kitchen, where the door for the main hallway was. You ran past your ‘room’, the one you used when Steve went on a mission with the Avengers and didn’t want you to stay alone, or with your mother. That he wasn’t living there anymore didn’t mean he wasn’t a part of the team, much to your mother dislike.

There weren’t many things there, but you quickly changed from your boots to soft padded socks with small cute bears decorating. Once you were comfortable enough to spend the whole morning there, you closed the door of your room and skipped to his.

Peter wasn’t facing you when you opened the door, but rather looking out of the window daydreaming. He turned around once you were in, and gave you the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. He still had his eyes swollen by sleep, and his pyjamas were on. But he seemed awake enough to pick up the tray from your hands and set it aside, cornering you in the bathroom’s door and locking your lips.

You smiled into the kiss and raised your hand behind his neck. Peter’s room smelt a lot like Axe, a bad habit in your opinion that he had gotten from his dad mentor. The window was half open and his bed was still undone, which gave you a sense of home that you hadn’t felt in a while.

Peter’s lips against yours weren’t nice, but demanding. He pressed himself against your body and cradled your head with his hand, tilting it so that he had better access. When you ran out of air, he teared away and looked at you with a lovestruck gaze.

“Hi” you managed to say, out of breath. It came out a little high-pitched.

“I missed you” he whined, and pouted like a puppy. Your heard literally broke with his look, so you leaned forward and kissed him again.

The spring break was hard for everyone. There was no highschool, and even if it was good news for every teenager, for you wasn’t. It meant you couldn’t see Peter every day, that you lived with your mother during the week, and that you could only sneak around your father some weekends. Peter was probably who felt it the worse, since he was a rather clingy boy, and had made it known in the three months you had been together.

Peter broke away to keep pressing kissing on your cheek, nose and forehead. They were light kisses, so fast that you ended up giggling and tossing between his arms. When he felt like he could let you go, he gave you a final peck and stepped back.

“Breakfast in bed” he said, giving a side glance to the trail of food. “Is it any special service?”

“Only for the best” you chuckled, and walked to the bed.

Peter’s bed was probably the softest one. When him and May had moved over, Tony had made sure he spoiled Peter rotten. With May’s help, they bought him the comfiest cushion, the nerdiest stuff and the best computer. He didn’t accept half of it, but the bed was different. You let yourself be drowned in it, pale blue sheets surrounding you and making you feel like in a cloud. You closed your eyes and rested your head on his pillow, that smelt like him and made it ten times better.

He followed you close, and you felt the bed dipping under his weight. Slowly, he crawled until his head was resting in the space between your neck and shoulder, and you could caress his hair. His body was covering yours, and when Peter threw the covers over the both if you, it felt like you were in your own perfect little world.

The tray laid forgotten on the desk as Peter curled into a ball by your side, hugging your body as if it was his personal pillow. He tangled your legs together and intertwined his fingers with yours. When he was comfortable enough, he talked, and his hot breath hit the side of your face.

“I missed you” he repeated.

“I missed you too” you answered, turning your head so that your noses were touching.

“You know what I missed the most?” Peter asked, and by the smirk on his face, you knew that shy-Peter wasn’t making an appearance. “This”

Peter’s hand rested on your bare belly, and from there he kept going down. He was met with the hem of your trousers, a baggy sweaters that you had snitched from your mom before leaving that morning. Peter’s skilled fingers started undoing the knot of the front, and his body rocked against yours slowly.

“I hope you know what you’re doing” you teased.

By any answer, Peter shifted so that he was hovering over you, his hand still placed between your bodies and his eyes boring into you with burning love. He gave you a lazy, lopsided smirk and finished with the knot of your trousers.

He didn’t bother in tugging them down, but sneaked his hand down and his thumb touched the lace of your panties. He didn’t have to look to know they were the purple one, because he knew your wardrobe by heart; and because with the spider bite, came a constant flood of teenager’s hormones.

Your skin was soft and warm against his finger’s pad, and he gifted you with a soft grunt that made you clench your thighs and trap his hand in between. Peter chuckled.

“I don’t think I can stand another two weeks without seeing you” Peter said.

“Let’s just enjoy the moment”

And that’s exactly what you did.

Peter kicked off the covers and let his lips be lost against your neck. They nipped, kissed, licked and bit your whole neck, never leaving any mark but testing your limits. He knew where to touch you to make those noise, and he spent his time there. His hot breath hoovering over you was enough to make you come on your panties.

But he didn’t have enough, so he ended up tugging your pants down and off the bed and letting his hand be lost in your pussy. He ran one lazy finger up and down your lips, parting them and creating a delicious friction against your clit.

“Peter – Peter, oh – wait – stop, Peter!” you cried out an pushed his hand away.

Peter’s eyes almost got out of their socket and you saw panic filling his features. He was off you in a second, and what a sight. His hair was messy from tugging too much, t-shirt gone and pyjamas pants holding a tent of its own. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes, begging to yourself to last a big longer.

“Get inside” you moaned, opening your legs again. “Please – please, I need – I need –“

You hadn’t seen Peter move so fast in his life. He was standing in front of you when you blinked, fighting with his pants and boxers at the same time. His erection bobbed up and down until it almost touched his stomach, and you were sure he was as turned on as you.

You were about to take off your t-shirt and mount him yourself when the door was kicked open and both Peter and you screamed.

“Y/N!”

“Peter!”

“Dad!”

“Mr. Stark!”

You didn’t think the mood after not seeing your boyfriend for two weeks could go down so fast, but it did when a very flushed Tony Stark and a totally mortified Steve Rogers opened the door of Peter’s room. You covered yourself the best that you could with Peter’s sheets, and he took the pillow to hide his dick.

“What the hell were you doing?!” Steve screamed, and you had to remind yourself that it wasn’t a good moment to say ‘language’. “What – why are you – Y/N Rogers, you’re so grounded!”

Your father’s face was as red as his shield, only discerning from an apple by the blue and white of his eyes. Tony’s shock seemed to be wearing off, and he was simply leaning against a the wall with a hand covering his evident smile.

“Haven’t you heard of knocking, dad?” you asked, your voice still too high for your liking. “You can’t just burst into someone’s room”

“I can’t – I can’t?!” wrong answer, you guessed. “You can’t do… that! And with him!”

“Mr. Rogers, I – “ Peter tried to talk.

“Shut up” Steve growled, and Peter’s Adam apple bobbed up and down. “Listen to me, you end this right now. And don’t ever expect to see him again.”

“What?!” you let the sheets fall to your lap, exposing your thankfully still covered front. “You can’t do that!”

“You don’t get to say what I can and can’t do!”

“Steve –“ Tony tried.

“I can! You only see me on weekends, I live with mom! You can’t say who I can and I can’t see!”

“Then maybe you will come and live with me” Steve said, and your jaw dropped. “Get dressed. I’ll – “

“Just because mom and you don’t love each other anymore doesn’t mean I can’t love someone!” you screamed out.

The room got silent, and Steve actually paled. The thing about him was that he wasn’t a bad father at all. Your mother had thrown you at him when you were younger, and even if she loved you, you knew that most of the arguments came because she loved to make his life impossible. Steve was patient, loving, funny and cared for you like no one.

But he was also afraid. Afraid of you going to parties, afraid of you getting a sleepover, and afraid of you having a boyfriend. The man had lost so much, that it terrified him that he could lose you too.

For the first time since he had heard the noises in Peter’s room, he got to finally look at you. You had tears in your eyes, your cheeks red and your lips pursed as if when you were going to cry. He knew what a bratty teenager was, and what he saw in your eyes wasn’t the tantrum you throw sometimes when he didn’t let you go somewhere.

He looked at Peter, then. The boy looked even more devastated than you. With just a pillow covering his lower half, Peter was chewing on his lip and looking at Steve lacking all the respect he always had. There was only desperation, and Steve felt bad.

“It’s not about that” Steve whispered, and sighed. Even if he didn’t age like normal people, he felt like greys hair coming out. “How… for how long, you know? This?”

“Three months” you whispered back, and a tear rolled down your cheek. You quickly caught it with your finger, and rubbed a furious fist against your eye.

Steve slumped against the wall, and closed his eyes tightly. There was a headache coming his way, and at full speed. His daughter with Tony’s son protegee, his daughter doing… that with Peter, and his daughter growing up and him being left behind.

“Just – just be careful” Steve made a small grimace and coughed it away. “Say goodbye, we’re leaving. And please… next time lock the door, Parker”

You knew you had to talk about it with your father, that he wasn’t done, but for the moment, he muttered a quick goodbye and left the room. You felt like your heart was beating again. Tony had a smug smile on his face, and rose up from his leaning position too.

“And here I thought you didn’t bring girls home because you were a shy boy” Tony teased, and Peter felt like dying. “We’re talking about this later too, Pete”

With that, Tony left and the door was left ajar behind him. It was silent for a while, until Peter’s knees gave away and he sat beside you in the bed. The pillow fell to the ground and he put his elbows on his knees, covering his face with his hands. The decision of not saying anything was for the sake of your father, because you wanted to wait until he had everything figured with his feelings for Tony in case he felt obligated to stay away for you.

You raised a hand and placed it on Peter’s shoulder, and you swore he gave a small relief sob. Your suspicious were proven when he finally said something.

“I can’t believe that just happened” he whispered. “I thought I was gonna die”

“We’re not off the hook yet” you joked, and kneeling in bed, pressed a small kiss to his neck. “But for now we’re okay”

“Yeah”

Peter gripped your hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. He looked at you sideways, and attempted to smile. It was shaky and hesitant, but it was enough for you. Even if you hadn’t been dating for long, you had known the boy for your whole life, and you didn’t want to think what to do without him.

“I should get going” you muttered, and crawled out of bed. “I don’t want him any angrier”

Peter stood up too, and even if the mood had been killed and felt more like throwing himself off a window, he pressed his lips against yours one last time. Not a second after you had moved your hand to cradle his cheek, a barking voice came from the hallway.

“No more fondue when I’m around!”

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yachisupremacy · 3 years

Text

oh GOD // Kiyoko Shimizu

[12:33 pm]

Today had been a busy day already, and you had only been clocked in for a little over two hours. The constant flow of customers was a little overwhelming at times, but for the most part, you were just glad it helped the day go by a little quicker. You and Osamu alternated between taking orders and preparing rice balls. The shop was particularly busy during this lunch hour, so you both had to work fast to get customers in and out of Miya’s little onigiri shop.

The two of you had met in university, and quickly hit it off. While you were only going to culinary school for the cooking skills, Osamu was also majoring in business with hopes of opening his own shop one day. Having shared many classes together, both of you discovered you really enjoyed the friendship the other had to offer. A few years later, Osamu had asked you to be his sous-chef when he opened Miya Onigiri. Of course you agreed.

After 2 hours of steady business, the last customer of your rush left, stomach filled with rice and a warm smile on their face. You breathed out a sigh of relief. Finally a moment for a break.

“Man I’m hungry.” Samu grumbled as you took a drink of water. The bell at the front of the shop jingled to alert you of another customer. You were ready to grumble out in annoyance until your eyes met a pair of familiar blue ones. “You can handle customers for a bit yeah? I’m going to take my meal break while we’re slow.” You nodded at Osamu’s words, knowing you didn’t have much of a choice anyway.

You looked back towards the front where the familiar woman stood, another man you vaguely recognized trailing behind her, their hands intertwined. Oh. You made your way over to the register and greeted the couple with a somewhat forced smile.

“Hey! It’s been forever since I last saw you, I didn’t know you worked here,” Shimizu greeted you with a small smile. She gestured to the man beside her and introduced him as her husband. Tanaka Kiyoko was her name now. You nodded kindly at the man in front of you before taking their orders.

As soon as you rung them up you quickly turned to your work station, hoping to avoid any further conversation with the couple in the shop. You sighed quietly to yourself, wetting and salting you hands, before beginning the process of making their onigiri. You couldn’t help your mind from drifting back, looking at Kiyoko had only reminded you of how you felt all those summers ago.

Your back was pressed against the soft mattress of your childhood bed. Kiyoko's hands cupping your cheeks. "Can I kiss you?"

You quickly shook your head as if that would clear the memories that tried to resurface.

Her lips were soft. Your lips moved in sync with each other, soft, slow, lovingly. The moment felt perfect. Your chest felt light, and your head felt giddy. This was the first time you had ever kissed a girl. You relished in the moment, the way Shimizu's hands felt when they held you close.

"Shit." You murmured under your breath after unintentionally crushing one of the rice balls you were working on. You quickly filled and reshaped another ball so you could get the couple out of the store.

"Here you guys are!" you said, passing them the freshly packaged onigiri over the counter and offered them the most genuine-looking smile you could muster. Kiyoko's hand barely grazed yours as she took the food from your hands. It was like a single touch had sent a jolt of electricity through your body.

"It was nice seeing you." You told her as she and her husband were about to depart. She smiled sweetly and nodded her head quickly.

"Yeah! We should catch up sometime." You nodded at her words and waved goodbye as they exited the shop. As soon as the bell jingled and the door finally latched shut, you let out a breath of air you didn't realize you were holding.

You stared at your hand where her touch had slightly grazed you. You wondered if she remembered the moments you shared too. You shook your head again trying to dismiss the thoughts, she's married now.

It was as if Kiyoko fit perfectly in your arms. The two of you snuggled up to each other as you watched a movie together in your living room. Your parents weren't home so the two of you were able to display more affection. You soaked in the warmth that radiated off the beautiful girl in your arms.

It was comfortable, you felt safe... and loved when you were with her. That was until you heard the front door lock moving. You quickly pulled away from Kiyoko and created enough distance between you so that your parents wouldn't know that you were attracted to a girl.

You could hear Shimizu's sigh from beside you and flashed her an apologetic glance. She was tired of hiding it. But your parents were catholic, and for some reason you couldn't help but be swallowed up by guilt for breaking their rules.

"Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?" Osamu's voice had you jumping out of your own skin. You turned to him and smacked his arm lightly.

"You scared the shit out of me!" You gasped out as you pulled yourself back to reality. He chuckled at your antics and shrugged his shoulders.

"Not my fault you weren't paying attention," He poked fun at you. "What has you all spaced out anyways?" You groan softly and dramatically laid your head on the counter.

"I'm going to be bitter when I'm 50 years old." Osamu raised an eyebrow at you, prompting you to continue.

"My ex just came in," you coughed lightly before continuing, "with her husband." Osamu gasped and shoved you playfully.

"You can't just break up their marriage!" which caused you to burst into laughter. The atmosphere in the shop became a little lighter and you were able to shake off some of your remorseful feelings.

You took a deep breath after calming down from your giggles, "No, no I don't plan on breaking them up... I was just so afraid of what my parents would think when I was younger, that I let them tell me how to live.

"I just wish I had let loose a little more, you know? I would have been a lot happier."

#LMAO IM SO SORRY #my lesbian crush showed me this song and i was like okay me #i hope you enjoy #hq!!#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #wlw #hq kiyoko #kiyoko x reader #kiyoko shimizu #haikyuu x reader

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jokertrap-ran · 3 years

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(未定事件簿) EVENT!「温暖闹元宵」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: A warm, festive Lantern Festival Translations (FULL)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *The tracking tag for ALL Event Stories will go under: #Tears of an Event *salt for sugar, sugar for salt~

After the Spring Festival Holidays, I came to the base to carry out work, as usual.

MC: (Haa… Even though I’m glad that I can meet everyone again after the holidays, there’s still a part of me that refuses to believe that the Holidays are over...)

I placed the dossier file that I had been flipping through down, sighing lightly.

Zuo Ran: What’s wrong? Is the case a trickier one?

Xia Yan: Are you feeling unwell somewhere?

MC: (Uh oh, they heard me...)

I never thought that anyone would hear the sigh I released earlier. Looking up, I saw everyone peering at me in concern. I frantically tried to explain myself.

MC: Nothing! Nothing at all! I was only…

Lu Jinghe: Post Holiday Syndrome?

Mo Yi: Which is something that happens after a long holiday and…

Lu Jinghe: I obviously know what it is.

Lu Jinghe: I’m just surprised that someone like you, who maintains a regular schedule, actually understands something like this.

Mo Yi: I do also happen to be a Private Tutor, myself.

MC: (There goes the two of them again.)

MC: I’m really okay! Don’t worry about me, everyone!

Zuo Ran: Don't force yourself if you truly need a break.

Lu Jinghe: But everyone does like their holidays, no? It's gonna be the Lantern Festival soon.

Xia Yan: How about we celebrate it together then?

Almost as if assenting with Xia Yan, Peanut, who was here at Base today as a special guest, chirruped happily.

Mo Yi: Do you mean "you and her, both"...

He swept his gaze past Xia Yan and I...

Mo Yi: Or all of us here?

Xia Yan: ……

Lu Jinghe: Just nice then! We weren’t all gathered together before to celebrate the New Years back then, so how about we celebrate the Lantern Festival together?

MC: Ooh! I agree! We can all make glutinous rice balls together!

Zuo Ran: In the Base?

Lu Jinghe: Didn’t the Salon for leisure just get renovated? We can probably make some glutinous rice balls at the bar counter or whatever.

Lu Jinghe: But if Mo Yi and Zuo Ran disagree with this idea, then you’re also all very welcome to go to my house instead.

Mo Yi: ...I agree with this idea.

Zuo Ran: ...I second that agreement.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

After the ingredients we’d purchased online had arrived, we split the work up and got right to it.

During the time I used to make the stuffing inside the glutinous rice ball, everyone else had used this time to make differently coloured skins for them, all using different ingredients.

Other than the classic, white-coloured skin, we also came up with purple-coloured skin, made from adding purple sweet potatoes into the mix, orange-coloured skin from the addition of pumpkin, so on and so forth.

MC: (I know that Dr. Mo knows how to make desserts, but I didn’t expect everyone else to actually be fairly decent at this.)

MC: (I have to do my best too! Come on, I have to make some decent-looking glutinous rice balls at least!)

Lu Jinghe: Big sis, have you ever made glutinous rice balls?

MC: Nope.

I glanced around, looking at the glutinous rice balls that everyone made before turning back to my own.

MC: Mine looks a tad… Different…

Zuo Ran: Practice makes perfect; don’t feel dejected about it, I’m sure you’ll be able to do it.

Mo Yi: That's right. Let me teach you; there's actually a certain technique to this.

MC: But the bar counter's only so small. Look at us, five people and a bird squeezing down here like this; I'm sure none of us can work to our fullest potentials like this.

MC: How about I retreat to the backline? Let me help as your assistant!

Xia Yan: Hey, hey. Mine's not actually all too up to par either.

Xia Yan: But it'll be a great help if you could help me watch Peanut for a while. It'd be bad if it happens to eat these glutinous rice balls we're making.

MC: No problemo! I guarantee to see this task through!

15 minutes later.

MC: Lawyer Zuo! Look! Doesn't this look like you?

After giving up on the process of making glutinous rice balls, I developed a new craft— Adding embellishments to the already completed ones.

To pinch everyone's leftover skins into hair and features before sticking them all onto the glutinous rice balls!

Zuo Ran: Very much so; you're very skilled at this.

Lu Jinghe: Hey, no fair, big sis! Why didn't you make one for me too?

MC: I did! Everyone has one!

MC: *Brings the special glutinous rice balls that had been created through taking advantage of everyone's work and places then on the bar counter with a natural flourish*

MC: Look! I even made Peanut!

Xia Yan: *Looks at the Peanut and looks back again at the "Peanut" on the glutinous rice ball*

Xia Yan: Absolutely adorable; I'm keeping this forever.

Mo Yi: I never thought that you'd be this good at it. Perhaps we can try other handicrafts together next time.

Zuo Ran: *Coughs* I think that pretty much does it for the glutinous rice balls; there's enough for all five of us here.

Zuo Ran: But it looks like there's only equipment to boil coffee here. Cooking these glutinous rice balls would be...

Lu Jinghe: Then how about you offer up your coffee maker and let's see if we can make it develop a new function?

MC: Oh! I remember now!

I took out an electric cooker and some tableware that I'd previously placed in the cabinet.

MC: We're always working down at the Base into the late hours of the night, so I bought these and placed them here with the intention of making supper for everyone. Looks like this is when it comes in handy!

MC: Let me cook it for all of you since I didn't participate in the making of them!

Mo Yi: You really are considerate. We'll pack up the things here on this side then.

MC: Okay!

Zuo Ran: I'll help.

I picked up the box where the glutinous rice balls were stored and was just about to move to the side when Lu Jinghe stopped me.

Lu Jinghe: Hold up! The ones that sis made are also mixed together with the ones in that box.

Lu Jinghe: You can't cook those together with these!

Xia Yan: You're right. I did say that I'll be keeping them forever after all

MC: It's my fault for being careless. I'll sort them out!

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

After sorting through the glutinous rice balls that had all been piled together in the box, I finally finished cooking them.

MC: Quick, come try them! I might not be very good at making them, but I think they turned out rather well after cooking!

Mo Yi: You've already done astoundingly well for your first try.

Zuo Ran: Good work.

Xia Yan: I'll just have to practice it together with you a couple more times next time! Careful, it's hot.

Lu Jinghe: Now, I wonder which one's the one that big sis made~?

MC: Lu Jinghe, hurry and eat your food or I'll go pack you a red packet later and pack it into that mouth of yours.

Even though everyone had given me their affirmations, after we'd all taken a bite out of the glutinous rice balls, however...

MC: ……

Lu Jinghe: ……

Zuo Ran: ……

Xia Yan: ……

Mo Yi: ……

Mo Yi: I seem to recall there being other customs to the Lantern Festival other than eating glutinous rice balls.

Zuo Ran: That's certainly so. There are other things like admiring lanterns, guessing lantern riddles, releasing lanterns into the sky and the like.

Xia Yan: Some of them sound way more fulfilling than making glutinous rice balls.

Lu Jinghe: I'll get someone to send the materials over immediately.

I enthusiastically nodded as I drank my water.

But a single glance back at the messy bar counter made me cringe.

MC: It's all my fault for mistaking salt as sugar…

MC: And we've still got so much leftover ingredients…

Zuo Ran: No. Everyone made these glutinous rice balls together, so we all have a share in this. Let's just leave it for tomorrow when we can try again.

Xia Yan: There’s still a couple of days before the Lantern Festival after all; I’m sure we’ll be able to make some tasty glutinous rice balls before then!

Lu Jinghe: I’m willing to taste-taste no matter how many times it takes, so long as it’s something you make, big sis~

MC: Haa...

MC: We might not have yummy glutinous rice balls, but this Lantern Festival’s a happy one so long as I get to be with everyone.

MC: Well then… I’ll be relying on you all for the next couple of days, it seems!

~END~

#Tears of Themis #Translations #Otome #Mihoyo #未定事件簿 #陆景和 #Lu Jinghe #左然 #Zuo Ran #夏彦 #Xia Yan #莫弈 #Mo Yi #温暖闹元宵 #A warm festive Lantern Festival #Tears of an Event

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emma-nation · 4 years

Text

Ticker Than Water - Bloodbound AU (Chapter 4)

Summary: When Amy changes the course of the events at the Opera House, she could never imagine the consequences she would have to face. After being by Rheya’s side for five years, she’s finally ready to be reunited with her friends and find a manner to defeat her. But when the time comes, what will prevail? Her love for Kamilah Sayeed and her friends or her family ties with the First Vampire?

Genre: Angst, Drama, Romance

Tag List: @slytherinthoughts7, @lightning-fury, @spacecarrousel, @gavryllo, @kamilah-the-bloodqueen, @whoinvitedalx, @sheyah, @imnotdonewiththeelementalists, @belvoiresqueenbee, @morvengarde, @tephy24, @iam-the-fuckin-queen, @scorpichoices, @leavemeandmyshipsalone, @jen825, @andreear17, @justejuste727, @evexofxtime, @zoe6111, @shanuuh, @ilovekamilahsayeed, @kenna-and-val-are-my-queens, @fal-carrington, @spookyjellyfishlove, @samgtt700, @just-thinking-loudly, @martachm, @masterofbluff, @rice-wifee, @lifeisadance96, @serafinedupontownsme, @hellyeah90sbaby

4 years ago - Japan

The first signs of Winter started showing on the city outside. Kamilah wondered what she'd be doing if she was still living in New York. Working, perhaps. And also planning the next Dark Solstice.

The necklace. She didn't have time to retrieve it from the secret drawer in her office when they ran away. It would be her only memory from something that didn't exist anymore - her relationship with Amy.

"I did it," the penthouse door opened in a slam, making Lily completely lose focus on her video game or Jax stop sharpening his katana. Adrian seemed to be in ecstasy. "I... I managed to grow a seedling from the sample we obtained from the Tree Of Death. This could stop Rheya for good."

"How great," Jax replied with some sarcasm. The last few months turned him into a version of his late master, Takeshi. "And what about the others? Also, how long is it going to take?"

The others. Kamilah's stomach flipped. Amy was one of them, along with Rheya's husband and daughter. And she was so strong as the First Vampire herself.

"It's a start, Jax," Lily added. "It'll be easier to take her down once she becomes a Feral."

"Fine, but I'd like to do the honors."

"Kamilah?" Adrian approached, touching her shoulder briefly. "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes," Kamilah told. She was too invested in her own thoughts, reflecting about the part where she'd have to face Amy again. What if they had to kill her? Would she be able to do that? "We will wait. When the time comes, we'll fight again."

Lily suggested a celebration, Jax agreed and so did Adrian. Since their arrival, they barely left that penthouse. Except for the occasions where they attended Kano's training sessions. The psychic vampire taught them how to guard their minds from Rheya. And also Amy.

"You can go. I'll stay here."

"Come on, Kamilah," Lily started dragging her to the door. "You never say no to booze."

"I'm saying this time."

"Lily is right," Adrian said. "You are coming with us. It'll be a good distraction."

"Yeah," Jax agreed. "We must stick together. Remember?"

This manner, the three younger vampires managed to make Kamilah to go out for the first time in months. Still a little insecure about their safety, they decided to visit The Five's nightclub. In the end, it was not terrible. Jax and Akeyo engaged in a singing competition, while Lily attempted to copy The Evolved's robotic dance moves. The female vampire let out a small laugh.

"Finally," Aiko slowly approached her. "Acceptance is the last stage of grief."

"I guess so," Kamilah replied in a dry tone.

"She's not coming back. She made a choice."

"I know."

The reminder of that fact hit Kamilah's heart like applying salt in an open wound. One year had passed. Amy was still doing atrocities together with Rheya. She showed no signs of regret or mercy. Not even a trace of the old Amy still existed in her eyes. The powers had changed her completely.

"I need another shot," she ordered to the bartender. Then she looked at Aiko, who observed her with the same old and seductive smirk. "Two shots actually."

----------

A blow from one of the mythological creatures that surrounded Amy in the mindscape forest threw her hard against a tree. Though the fight was happening inside her mind, the pain felt extremely real, as if her skull had been fractured.

"Ouch..." she moaned in pain. "Can't... back... down..."

A fire blast started to form in the center of her palm. If she could maintain the focus, it should be enough to stop the creature that was about to strike again.

"Ha!" Amy released the fire ball, that disappeared mid-air. "Fuck!" She screamed, punching the floor repeatedly. Noticing her frustration, Kano pulled her back to reality.

"There's something wrong," he spoke in all his wisdom of a 500 years old man, in a 5 years old body.

"Not even when I'm mad - and trust me, I'm really mad - I can make this work."

"You won't be able to do this moved only by anger. You need focus and discipline."

"Kano," Amy squeezed the water bottle she held, "we've been training for hours. I can't conjure one decent blast. I'm focused, I'm doing all the meditation exercises you taught me... I just can't. Maybe she drained my powers while I slept."

"It's not that," Kano handed her another water bottle, that she drank all in one sip. "There's something blocking you from reaching your potential."

"What could it be?"

He forced her to face all the nastiest skeletons in her closet for a second time that day. Starting by the childhood trauma caused by her mother's behavior. Though Amy knew the reason behind her rage outbursts, the marks would always be there.

The child version of herself was drawing in the kitchen when her mother entered, completely disturbed.

"Mommy!" She called. "Look what I've made for you."

"Nice," the woman barely looked. She was too busy inspecting the cabinets for her painkillers. "Where are them?"

She swallowed a couple of pills and little Amy's heart filled with hope that her mother would finally be able to give her some attention and love.

"Can we play teacups now? I missed you. You spend the whole day in the bedroom."

"Can't you see it, Amy?" The woman yelled at the child. "I am sick! Why can you just respect me? Why can you just be quiet, huh?!"

As she slammed the bedroom door, the little sat down on the floor breaking into tears.

"What did I do wrong?" She asked herself.

"Nothing," adult Amy sighed at the scene. "You did nothing wrong."

Then they moved to the Opera House. What else could be there to be seen? Amy did both of her crucial decisions - the one where she decided to tempt the fate and avoid the death of one of her friends, becoming a monster in consequence. And the one where she took the dagger. That was the most painful to watch. She had already seen Lily dying in her arms, as Kamilah plunged a stake in her heart to prevent her from becoming a Feral. She also saw Jax, sacrificing himself to die as the warrior he was, not as a disgusting rotting creature.

This time though, it was Adrian who took the fall to save her life...

"Not her! Never her!"

"Adrian!" The past version of herself screamed, kneeling down on the floor near the male vampire. "W-Why did you do this? Y-You didn't have to..."

"Amy..." he clutched the injury in his abdomen. His skin was already acquiring a grey coloration. "I had to. I was the one to bring you to this world in first place. I swore to protect you."

"But..."

"Shhhh, it's okay. I've had a long and accomplished life. I made a lot of mistakes too and somehow I think this how I must pay for them. I... I'm ready to be reunited with Eleanor and Charles."

She glanced at the rest of the group. Lily was sobbing uncontrollably. Jax punched the wall in anger and denial. Kamilah was also kneeled by Adrian's side. She was trying hard to prevent the tears from falling.

"And Amy?" Adrian said, before handing her a stake. "Take care of Kamilah. She needs you."

"No!" Both versions of herself screamed at the same time, as Adrian forced her hand to stake his heart. She collapsed to the floor before they moved to the next memory.

She and Rheya were terrorizing some citizens in New York City. Those who still refused to bend to their orders and obey their every command.

"I condemn you to be my prisoners," Rheya smiled deviously, staring at the small group of people restrained inside a TV station. They secretly planned to leak information about the Apostolous family to other states, including their ability of controlling and manipulating minds. "You can be my servants after all. You could entertain me, feed me... or even fight for me."

Amy emerged from a door in the back. Her hair was a mess and she had bags under her eyes. She was in a terrible mood, what lead her to slowly approach and start to snap the neck of each one of the victims. One by one.

"Foolish creature! What the hell do you think you're doing?" Rheya asked, visibly annoyed. "I wasn't going to kill them yet, they could be useful to my purposes."

"Getting things done faster," Amy told. "I'm starving, I'm tired. I can't wait to get home and feed."

"Of course, you spent the whole night out with Serafine, going to clubs and using your psychic powers for recreational purposes. I told you I needed you in shape this morning. You disappoint me."

"I'm sorry, Rheya. You were going to kill them anyways. They're all useless insects, isn't it what you always say?"

"You're right," the First Vampire approached and touched her chest using her indicator finger. "But I give the orders here. We may have the same blood, the same powers powers but I'm in charge. Do you understand?"

Amy was back to the same mindscape as earlier, surrounded by creatures in a forest. She felt angry at herself, yet she accepted it. She embraced the fact she was weak to resist the darkness inside her. It was part of who she had became. And now she wanted to change and make things right.

"I can do this," she closed her eyes, focusing on conjuring a psychic wave strong enough to push the horde of monsters away from her. When she opened them, ready to hit them... nothing happened.

"What?!" She yelled, back at Kano's office. "This time I did it. I faced the Opera memory and how things should have went. I embraced the fact I did horrible things too."

"There must be something else. Something you're refusing to face and let go."

Amy had no idea what it could be. At Kano's suggestion, they ended the training session for the day and she went back to the hotel to rest and reflect on what could be blocking her powers. After a long bath, she stared at the bed. The same bed she and Kamilah shared an intimate moment in the previous night, before she told her about her engagement with Aiko.

She finally turned on her phone. Iola had been trying to reach her all day.

"You need to return home, immediately. She has lost her mind."

"What is it this time?" Amy asked, getting dressed to meet Lily at the penthouse she lived with the rest of the group.

"She wants to-"

"Amy?!" Rheya seemed to have taken the phone from her daughter's hands. "I wanted to speak to you, darling. Are you finished with The Five yet? I need you to come home."

"Why?"

"I've signed a contract with a TV channel. Next week they'll begin to film our own reality show: 'The Apostolous'. Isn't it wonderful?"

No. It wasn't. Together with her insane ancestor and her family, Amy would be locked in the mansion with Priya, Serafine and Dracula, while every detail their daily routine was registered by the cameras and shown on television to the whole world.

"Rheya..." Amy sighed, thinking of some excuse. "Why don't you wait a few more days? I mean, a party with your new allies would be a great start for the reality show. Wouldn't it?"

"You're right," the First Vampire answered after a pause. "I don't know when you've gotten so smart, but you're having some good ideas lately. Anyways, I must start planning our party then. Talk to you later, darling."

Only a lot of alcohol could make Amy relax with all the latest news. When she arrived, Lily was still the only one in the penthouse. Jax, Adrian and Kamilah were doing some personal businesses.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Amy asked, taking a sip directly from the bottle of sake before aiming her next shot at the pool game.

"I was going to," Lily told, observing as she sank three balls in a row. "I couldn't imagine Kamilah would go straight to your bed in the very first night."

As Lily finished her own turn, Amy noticed she was about to win the game. However, she would never be able to make the right move with that one question bothering her mind.

"Does she love her? Aiko?"

"Do you want the honest truth? No, she doesn't. She only got in that sudden relationship with her to forget you. And if you ask me, I bet Aiko is forcing her to get married."

A hint of a smile appeared on the corners of Amy's mouth. She still had a chance. With the right shot, she could win Kamilah's heart back.

"I win," she grinned as she cued the last ball into the pocket.

"Best of three?" Lily asked, after taking a sip of the sake. "So, now tell me about Rheya going all Kardashian."

Amy rolled her eyes in annoyance. She was about to start talking about Rheya's reality show when the penthouse's door opened, making her heart speed up inside her chest.

"Oh," for her disappointment, it wasn't Kamilah. "Hey, Jax."

"Hello, Lily and..." he glared in her direction, clearly uncomfortable with her presence. "You."

"Jax, come here," Lily called, assuming some alcohol and games would be able to seal the peace between them. "Amy was about to tell me about Rheya's latest bullshit."

"Later, Lil. I gotta... I gotta take a shower. I was training with Akeyo all day."

As soon as he left to the bedroom, Amy sighed:

"He'll never forgive me."

Kamilah arrived right after she finished her sentence. She didn't say a word, she walked directly to the bar, serving herself some expensive whiskey.

"We're not allowed to bring visitors," she scolded Lily. "After five years you should know that."

"I asked Adrian first," Amy told in her defense. "He said I could..."

"Oh, Amy. Congratulations on your new show. It's all over the internet. You must be loving the attention, aren't you?"

"Thank you. By the way, for someone who doesn't care care you're way too updated about my life."

There was a heavy tension between them. Years of unresolved feelings and unsaid words were affecting the whole environment surrounding them, like an earthquake.

"I-I..." Noticing that, Lily started walking away too. "You two must have a lot to talk about. I'll be in my bedroom."

Amy still tried to prevent Lily from leaving, but it was useless. She was alone and under Kamilah's hard cold gaze.

"You shouldn't be here," the female vampire said once again.

"Why?" Amy decided to confront her. "My presence is bothering you?"

"Not really, but it put us at risk. She could come here any second searching for her spawn."

"She won't. Besides, I can fight her."

"Oh really? How's the training going by the way?"

"Good," Amy lied. "I'm... I'm finding myself. Finding a balance between my powers and the darkness they can bring."

As if she still could read her, Kamilah raised an eyebrow and opened a small sadistic smile. Was it so obvious she was failing miserably? Did Kano tell the others how poorly the training session had gone? She swallowed dry.

"About yesterday..." Amy opened her mouth to speak, changing the subject. She had to know how Kamilah felt about the other night.

"Nothing happened yesterday," Kamilah nodded.

Before she could speak again, Adrian emerged from the elevator.

"Amy, good to see you here," he wanted to show her something in a secret Raines Corporation HQ he had built. "Come with me."

She gave Kamilah one last look. It wasn't over. She wasn't going to give up and pretend nothing happened between them. She wasn't going to act like the feelings weren't still there, alive and strong as ever.

"What?" Adrian asked with a smile during their way to the building.

"Nothing," Amy smiled back. She had never been so happy to see him. That vision had struck her really hard. "I'm just glad you still trust me."

The building was highly secured. Adrian guided her to the laboratory in the basement. Some scientists were still working late night, on many different projects.

"Only a few people know about our secret weapon," Adrian told while he typed a password on a keypad, opening a heavy metal door. "Only us and The Five. After all, anyone else could have their minds accessed by Rheya."

After walking through a long corridor, they stopped in front of a glass. Behind it, Amy spotted a small growing tree.

"Is it..."

"The Tree Of Death. I managed to obtain a sample and grow a seedling from it. It's still small and young, its sap is not so poisonous. It won't cause much harm yet."

After Demetrius was brought back to life, the Tree Of Death and the island ceased to exist. With that, there was nothing that could stop Rheya. Until now.

"Adrian..." Amy remembered testing her powers, or when Rheya used to grow different plants and flowers in the backyard, according to the occasions. "I can make it grow faster with my powers."

#bloodbound #kamilah sayeed #kamilah x mc #rheya apostolous #bloodbound fanfiction #playchoices #choices stories you play #thicker than water

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linerwriter · 4 years

Text

We Are Family

I’m back! And with something inspired by the LU discord’s prompt this week: fluff!

I had originally planned on a Sky and Wind centric story, but, uh, that’s fighting me, so have something I’m actually somewhat proud of.

Also! This is posted on ao3, if you prefer reading on that. Same username, linerwriter, on there. The only thing on there besides this is a Persona 5 fic, but I’m hoping to post some of the ones from here I really liked to there.

I hope you guys enjoy this!

The idea came after several months of travel and no breaks.

Time had noticed how several of the boys, especially ones used to family and companionship, would cast longing looks toward the houses with their lanterns still on in the windows, or would quietly look away after a child asked their mother for something. It tore at him to see them so depressed, and so when they finally returned to his Hyrule, he schemed.

It was hard. He was the unofficial leader of the group, the eldest (so to speak), so whenever something bad happened, he was the first one they came to. It was aggravating, to say the least, when Sky came to him for help with the cuccos, and immediately after Wind accidentally knocked something over and set off the horses.

It was a long time coming, but finally. The table was set. The food was cooked. It was time for the feast to begin!

He could see the joy in the boys’ eyes when he brought them out to the barn and they were greeted with the mountain of food Malon had cooked. Time and Malon had brought out the special table and chairs, the dark oak ones they had at their wedding, and decorated it with a plain white tablecloth with lace around the edges. They had placed flowers on the table, a mix of lilacs, gardenias, hyacinths and Silent Princesses Malon had convinced Wild to give her. Strings were strung up horizontally across the roof; they had managed to convince (re: bribe) some fairies to sit on the strings and enjoy the festivities for the night.

“What…” Legend spoke in shock, “How did you manage to do this?” The other boys nodded in agreement, their faces mirroring Legend’s. Time swore he could see a tear coming out of Sky’s eye.

“With some hard work, determination, and lots of love.” Malon spoke up from beside Time, “Now come on, let’s eat!”

They didn’t have to be told twice. Wind was the first to the table, a bright grin on his face. Wild was right behind him, sitting beside the younger boy and beginning to take some of the food set. The others soon followed suit, with Hyrule staying behind to thank Malon for all of the food.

“Oh, it was nothing, dear. Enjoying it is enough thanks for me.” She shooed him toward the table, turning toward her husband once he left.

“Proud of yourself?” She cocked an eyebrow at him, a small smirk on her face.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, love,” He kissed her, pulling away when someone shouted, “Ew, Mom and Dad are kissing!”

“Shush, you!” The boys laughed and continued dishing out food to each other and admiring the decorations. He looked toward his lovely, beautiful, fantastic wife and said, “Shall we join them?”

“We shall!” She cried with a flourish and dragged him toward the group. Malon had really outdone herself this time. Plates were piled high with mashed potatoes, salt-grilled vegetables and mushroom skewers. He saw some rice balls on the other end of the table, almost halfway gone. There were a few different types of stews being passed around, along with some cornbread. A big bowl of salad was near the middle, next to the main attraction: the Hylian turkey.

It was huge, a masterpiece among turkeys. The skin was browned to perfection, the meat nice and juicy. The stuffing looked amazing, filled with bread, herbs, and spices. He couldn’t wait to have some.

“How’d you manage to find one that big?” Twilight asked across from him, gesturing toward the meat. Time smiled behind his glass,

“Trade secret, pup.”

Twilight rolled his eyes and took some for himself. He took a bite and visibly melted.

“That good, huh?” Warriors spoke up from beside Four. Twilight nodded, a euphoric look on his face.

“Malon, you are a Goddess’s send.”

Malon giggled beside him, “Why thank you, dear.”

“Ms. Malon, is there any more?” Wind asked eagerly, his plate already clean.

“If you wait a little longer, Wind, I may bring out some carrot cake.”

“Really?!”

Malon nodded, “And some cookies and fruit cake, too, if you’re good.”

Wind gasped in delight, turning to shovel some vegetables onto his plate. Wild laughed and patted him on the back, urging him to slow down. Around the table, individual conversations struck up, securing the bond between them even tighter.

Twilight turned toward him, a grin on his face. “Ready to eat?”

Time grinned right back, “Absolutely.”

Hours later, after the feast was done and they had cleaned up, they laid together in bed, the house quiet and content. They had spent many hours in the barn, sharing stories and smiles over plates of food and, eventually, a campfire. The fairies had migrated with them, interested in the tales of the different incarnations, and had formed a glowing halo above them.

“Did you ever imagine your life would turn out like this?” She spoke from where her head rested on his chest.

He thinks for a moment. When he was his youngest, he hadn’t even known of the world outside of Kokiri Forest. He thought he was going to live forever, like the rest of the Kokiri. Then Navi and the Great Deku Tree and the Master Sword happened, and suddenly he was friends with a princess and had traveled through time, and then he stopped a kingdom from the moon. At that point in his life, he had considered settling down with something, maybe have a kid or two, but he felt he wouldn’t have deserved it. Now, though...

He sighed, “I don’t think I could’ve imagined anything that happened to me when I was younger. But,” he kissed her head, “I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“Not even if someone put a sword to your heart?”

“Not even then.”

She huffed out a laugh, “Sap.”

“You love me.”

“I do, and sometimes I wonder if that’s a good thing.”

Time rolled his eyes, “Gee, thanks, dear.”

Malon sat up from his chest with a laugh. She kissed him, a soft smile on her face“I love you. And this family.”

Time smiled back, “I love you too.”

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #hero of time #hero of winds #hero of twilight #hero of legend #Hero of Hyrule #hero of warriors #hero of the sky #hero of the wild #Hero of the Four Sword #fluff!!!#LU discord fluff week #it's here #and I'm back #after months #:)

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