#HE CAN COOK ANY CUISINE LET ME SPEAK IT ALOUD ONCE AGAIN

[jackalopedaily]

Jackalope Daily Day 378

I am simping SO hard over him I actually need help. I'm winning the olsimpics, I have a degree in simpology. Specifically for Jackalope.

[17wishbones]

Here is the FINAL part (3) of Chapter VII: War’s End! So glad that you made it all to the end. A rather bittersweet sort of sensation but, it was fun writing this to the very end. I so wanted a happy ending, but I still sort of followed Rengoku’s path and cried my eyes out again but it was worth it. Again, this one I know I could write better so I’m going to work on it. Thank you all for reading through this and sticking with me. This was just so fun to do!

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                                      Chapter VII: War’s End

“Everyone ready to go?” Tanjiro asked his ‘lively’ crew.

Zenitsu was sitting with Nezuko who was comfortably set in her box. “Yep, yep! Me and Nezuko-chan are as ready as we’ll ever be.”

“Finally! I can get out and stretch my legs!” Inosuke shouted with glee as he grabbed his two blades.

“Hope you have room for one more.”

“Oh, sure, we do-- _____, is that. . . is that really you?”

“In the flesh.” You stepped through the doorway in just the uniform. Over the weeks, you garnered a leveled bob cut of your locs, an eyepatch over your left eye, and scars littering your arms and around your face. “I’ve missed you all so much.”

“COOOOOOK!!!” Inosuke bum-rushed you into a hug, sniffling loudly beneath his boar’s head. “WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!?”

Zenitsu joined him, well, more like pushed him out of the way as he hugged you next. “____, WE WERE WORRIED SICK ABOUT YOU!! WE THOUGHT YOU WERE A GONER!!”

“I’m so sorry for up and leaving just like that. There was a lot to process after the Mugen Train incident, and I didn’t want to muddle your healthy minds with my emotions. I wanted to be mentally strong for you guys.” 

‘Her scent is still sad. Of course, she has a reason to be. She lost Rengoku-san, and has had to cope with that loss on her own. I know how tough that can be, but I have Nezuko with me still. She doesn’t have any kin or home to return to. Demon slaying is all she has. . . and us.’ Tanjiro’s eyes lit up. “That’s right! You have us.”

“Hmm? What was that, Tanjiro?” You asked.

“We’re a family, isn’t that right, _____?”

His words surprised you, and it made your heart jump with joy. You looked at all four of them as a part of your family. There wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for them. “You’re absolutely right. That’s why I want to come with you. Besides, as a Hashira, it is but my civic duty to protect Kyōjurō’s juniors.” Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you spoke fondly of him. “He was so ecstatic to have more apprentices under his belt. Therefore, I must follow in his footsteps and watch over you.”

“YEEEESS!! Having Cook with us will make traveling even better.”

Zenitsu frowned at him. ‘As if traveling with you has been anything pleasant.’

“Now, before we go. I want to see Senjuro. Did you relay the message to him already, Tanjiro?”

“Mhm. As soon as we got back, and when I was able to move. Do you want us to come with you? We’re heading through that direction anyway.”

“Perfect! Let’s be off then.”

You all travelled down to the Rengoku Estate, seeing Senjuro sweeping out of his home. He was caught off guard when you embraced him.

For a moment, there was silence as he held you back tightly, his eyes swelling with tears. Seeing him reminded you of all the times you spent together. The three of you were a team when you and Rengoku were training for the Final Selection. Senjuro, sweet and kind, had a quiet fire burning in him. He was going to be something amazing, just like his brother.

“Senjuro, how have you been? Are you alright?” You inspected him from his ember-tipped hair down to his sandals.

“I’m better now, after seeing you. You left in such a hurry, I was worried that you weren’t going to come back.”

“You’re stronger than I, Senjuro, and I wanted to be that for you. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, _____. Are you leaving with Tanjiro and the others now?”

“Yes. I want to follow in your brother’s footsteps and protect those that I love and those that can’t protect themselves.” You knelt down, looking into his big, soft eyes. “I really wanted us to be together.” You said this, not knowing when death would knock at your doorstep. “I love you, Senjuro. I know you’ll be a great man in the future.”

“Mmm, I think I will be, too.” He hugged you one more time. “I love you, too, _____!”

You returned the favor before you both let go. You reached for your belt, pulling out a small box of goodies. “For you. Hope you like them. Take care, Senjuro.”

Your days, though filled with amazing memories, came to a close as you fell protecting the children. More than anything, you wanted them to succeed. Sacrificing yourself was the only way to win. It was a swift pain, a slow burn, and then darkness bled into your vision as your soul lifted towards the light and your warm, wavering aura vanished from your body.

You were sorry that you couldn’t stay as you walked halfway across the red bridge, spotting flame-tipped hair just over yonder. He peered over his shoulder, a proud smile spread on his handsome features as he held his hand out to you.

Over the red bridge did you both cross, fading into the distance.                                                          

                                       ( B O N U S - E N D I N G)

Summer had come and college was out! Most couldn’t wait to spend it goofing off on a beach, traveling across the States, or going right back into school a couple weeks later for summer courses. Many people had many things to look forward to, but you? You had woken up at the ass crack of dawn, taking in the morning air as you raced down the steps with your suitcase fully packed.

“Mom! Dad! Come on! We have to get the airport now! I can’t be late.” Your parents were so slow sometimes and that made you anxious. You could leave them here and catch a ride there or make it on your own but they were not having any of that.

“We’re coming, _____, we’re coming!” Your dad said with a mouthful of foaming toothpaste.

“You usually don’t wake up this early with this much energy.” Your mom added. 

“It’s not everyday you get to study abroad in the land of the Rising Sun! I have a day’s worth of traveling to do so I can always sleep later.” Yeah, you didn’t get any kind of sleep last night as you’d be spending most of it in the air.

You hurried them up and sped to the busy airport to meet with the group of classmates you were leaving with. You said your goodbyes to your parents, boarded the plane, and wished for a safe trip. 

As soon as service was offered, you grabbed a couple drinks, ate whatever they served in the trays, and knocked out until landing - save for the few bathroom trips -. 

Your horizon suddenly expanded the moment you walked out of Japan’s airport, looking around you in amazement. You had to keep murmuring to yourself, “Do not weeb out. I repeat, do not weeb out.” You loved anime, you loved Japanese culture, and you loved their idea of cuisine. Japan felt like the place for you.

“Okay everyone, please come together,” spoke your sweet, endearing Japanese princess of a teacher, Mayamoto-sensei. “We’ll be heading two hours out by bus to Kimetsu Daigaku (Kimetsu University). Rest up and be ready for a little surprise set up by a few students who were interested in meeting you guys soon after arrival.”

You internally squealed with glee. You weren’t dressed up for the occasion but who was going to tell you that you couldn’t wear a pair of sweats on the ride there. With your short locs retwisted and your good outfits packed, you were set to go!

So set that you were the first off the bus and getting your things out. “This is going to be a great experience, I know it!” 

“Nn! I agree!” 

“Oh my god!” You jumped, scared by the booming voice beside you. “Oh… oh my god.” You had laid eyes on one of the most unique men you had ever had the pleasure of gazing upon. He was different, what with his flame highlighted tips, dazzling eyes, and charming smile. 

“Yes. . .?” He slowly stood, his eyes never leaving yours once locked. This man, a vocal and expressive man, was left speechless. He ogled you for much longer than he’s ever done, going over your brown skin, your brown eyes, your short locs, everything! He immediately bowed before you, introducing himself. “Konnichiwa! Rengoku Kyōjurō to moushimasu! Yoroshiku onegai-shimasu!” (Formal: (Hello!) I’m called Rengoku Kyōjurō! Nice to meet you!)

Your eyes bugged out of your face. ‘Shit! Wasn’t he speaking English a minute ago? Okay, okay, what did he say?’ You looked back to see your sensei and the students watching the two of you interact. This was not how you kept yourself out of weeb trouble. Hell, you were still trying to figure out what his fine ass said so fast.

“Onamae wa, nan desu ka?” (Polite: What’s your name?)

You sighed, being able to understand that. “Watashi no namae wa… _____ _____ desu. Doozo yoroshiku.” (Casual: My name is _____. Nice to meet you.)

‘_____?’ He eyed you for a second longer before he placed his hands on his hips, smiling wide from ear to ear. “Very good, _____! I’m Rengoku Kyōjurō, and I am with a few classmates to meet you all. Welcome to Kimetsu University!”

“Woooow, his English is so good.” You thought. Aloud.

“Thank you! I have been learning since elementary! Your pronunciation is good, but your flow is slow. However, I am sure you will improve after being here for a month!” 

‘Oh, thanks for putting me out there!’ You smiled nervously. This handsome, wild man was nothing like you had expected. “That’s what I’m hoping for as I’d like to work, live, and travel here in the future.”

“Is that so?” He faced you with his arms crossed over his chest. “Be my student!” Your mouth, along with the others, dropped at his proposal. You looked to your sensei for help, and she encouraged it with an approving nod and smile. “Great, then it’s settled! You’ll be fluent in Japanese in no time!” He looked off to the distance, laughing loud as you smiled in confusion.

(Modern AU Sequel coming SOON!) - - - - - - - - - Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII (Part 1) / (Part 2) / (Part 3)

[cloudshapedpatch]

Misguided Royalty

Chapter Four: Look Twice; The Shadows Obey None

A secret lovers/ancient china au created by @mikoriin

Also big thanks to @mlbyay, this probably would have taken a lot longer to update if they hadn’t asked 😅

First / Previous / Next (coming soon!)

💚 💚 💚 💚 💚 💚 💚 💚

As the narrator, I will spare you the lecture the princess received from her mother and step-father. It was long and emotional. Empress Sabine cried twice and Marinette almost shed her tears during her apology. It was very moving. I almost cried myself.

The reality of the situation was dire, after all. If anyone were to have recognized her, they could have followed her, ambushed her, or just killed her on the spot.

Of course, the Emperor and Empress did not tell Marinette the details. There was no reason to worry the princess by telling her that the kingdom wanted her dead. All she needed to know was that she was valuable, and must not leave the palace until she either became Empress or could fend for herself, whichever came first.

The irony rang heavily in the princess' mind as she made her way to her bedroom (accompanied by two guards). She already knew of the bounty over her head, and it was painfully obvious that her guardians were trying to hide it from her. In some ways she felt sorry they had failed in shielding her, but she was also glad to know the truth. She was set to become Empress, after all, she should know what goes on in her kingdom.

Now that her rendezvous was over, she had promises to give the staff.

First, the coins to the maid for getting the common clothes. Then a message was sent to Alya asking a favor for the stable hand for taking the night off. And for most of the guards and maids and other various staff who pretended they hadn't known she was going to leave, she went down to the kitchen to bake.

Since leaving France, her home, she had missed eating the foods of her childhood. She had once shared some croissants she had made with her four personal maids (they were all in awe of the flaky bread), but she felt it was more appropriate to make something a little fancier as compensation.

Madame Césaire was a master in Marinette's eyes. The head palace cook was none other than her best friend's mother. She had insisted that Marinette could call her whatever she pleased, and would be honored to have a title from the princess' original culture. As such, Marinette called her Madame Césaire. Every so often she snuck into the kitchen because the smells of food were so delicious she couldn't pass up the opportunity to sneak a peek at her next meal. Most times when Marinette found herself sneaking away from her studies to the bustling kitchen, she found Madame Césaire making cuisine from her own heritage.

Before moving to China, Marinette had never seen a Creole person before, neither had she tasted their food. Now she quite liked the Mediterranean soups and meats that didn't get served often enough. And whenever Marinette wanted to relive childhood memories, Madame Césaire always let her into the kitchen to bake.

'It is quite sad you had to leave your home, but you have gained a new one. Still, it is important to remember where you came from.' She had said to the princess the first time she requested use of the kitchen.

But the usual bustle of the servant's kitchen gave the princess no solace. Despite this being one of her favorite places in the whole castle, her feet shuffled around as she showed the elder chef how to bake macarons.

"Madame Césaire?" Marinette started, her hands fiddling with her apron, "Where do you purchase your ingredients?"

The older woman stopped whisking egg whites for a moment to think. "I do not know. The Emperor gives me money to buy the month's ingredients. I rarely get to know what what it is before hand." A thoughtful look glazed her eyes before she shook her head a little, mixing the contents of the bowl she held a little faster.

The truth was, Marinette could not stop thinking about the farmer's market. The absurd prices, the lack of materials, it all ate at her heart. She was mad, no, livid.

And an angry teenager is no force to be reckoned with.

As she whisked and piped and assembled the macarons, her thoughts did not waver from the village. Marinette could not help but think Emperor Dupain was afraid she'd see the suffering, and was not worried for her safety at all.

Not once did she let herself think about the blond boy.

"Thank you, Madame. I'll go deliver these now." Marinette called after she had packaged up most of the cookies (What? She left some for the kitchen staff too). Glumly so, if I may add. If Damocles had seen her drag her feet around the grounds, he'd have been quite upset.

Unbeknownst to the princess, the dark assassin of the night had come back to watch her. In fact, he had been watching her every day since their first encounter.

To say he was fascinated with her would have been an overstatement, but even he couldn't deny his curiosity. He was perfectly content to just stand aside and spectate. And today especially he was glad he had come to listen.

When she had spoken aloud her entire plan to her hummingbird to go into town two days prior, he had to laugh. She certainly was different. Perhaps they just did things differently in France, but that was no matter. He had an assignment, to watch carefully and form a plan.

It scared Chat Noir, to think about what Papillon would do to him if he knew what was in Chat's heart. Chat had no desire to kill her. He was convinced he never really wanted to from the start, but perhaps that was caused by the love in his heart.

No, not love. Just fascination.

So can you blame him or wanting to talk to her again? His reasoning was that, well, third time's the charm.

I can blame him. But my opinion doesn't matter, now does it?

As Marinette finally finished making her rounds around the castle bearing treats, the sun had already started it's descent. It had been a long, eventful day. Yet, she still felt troubled.

And it was that boy's fault.

Tikki chirped happily as Marinette released her from the cage, but the princess continued to pace.

"Who does he think he is?" She whispered, mostly to herself, "Some nerve he had, asking for my whole name. Well! He thinks he's so smug."

Tikki tweeted sadly.

"Yes, I agree. He did seem fishy. Especially with that goodbye? Who even uses 'adieu' here?" She gasped, as if having just realized something. "Oh, Tikki, what if he somehow knew who I am? Oh, this is bad."

Somehow, Tikki looked both sympathetic and annoyed. And she's a bird. I have no idea how she managed that.

"Don't give me that look. I know, I know... It's absurd! There's no way he would have known."

Meanwhile, Chat was nearly bursting with amusement. I wish I could have back-handed him.

"Actually... would it have been so bad if he knew?" She flopped onto the bed, hands in her hair. "Gah! I wish Alya were here."

Tikki flitted over to the door, chirping to be let out.

"Sure, Tikki. Guess we could both use from fresh air."

She grabbed a candle while Tikki flew around anxiously, but hesitated once her hand touched the door handle.

"Tikki?" She stage-whispered, "What if he's out there?"

The bird made no response, only continued to anxiously fly around, waiting to be let out. In a burst of (quite misplaced) confidence, she pushed the door and stepped out, Tikki right above her head. After a moment of looking around, she sighed in relief.

"Phew. I thought he was going to be here."

"You thought right."

Marinette yelped in surprise, jumping up and away from the voice.

And there was Chat Noir. Again. Why can't he just leave already?

"Can you stop doing that?" She screamed, but it only came out as a hoarse whisper.

"Why? It's quite fun."

"You... ugh!"

A smile crept onto Chat's masked face, and he did nothing to hide it. "I know you have more treats left over, aren't you going to offer any to your guest?"

I think this is the exact moment Marinette realized her life was truly out-of-control. Her eyes blew wide and she sputtered for anything to say, but no words were spoken. However, a million thoughts raced through her underdeveloped brain. Mostly consisting of 'who does he think he is' and 'if I refuse, will he kill me'. Reluctantly she nodded, and wordlessly went into her room for the extra macarons.

But she should have known better. Feed a stray once, and it will always come back for more.

* * * *

The next night, Chat Noir came again. This peeved Marinette, which is actually what is peeving me. He's a literal assassin and she's only mildly inconvenienced by his presence!

Goodness, she is so irritating sometimes.

Anyway, when the princess went out to her balcony that night, clearly expecting it to be empty, she had another scare.

It was kind of funny, actually.

This time, however, when Marinette had requested the maids to bring her a snack (for Chat, of course), he attempted to make small talk. If you can imagine, this made both the princess and me very uncomfortable. Chat seemed to be having the time of his life though.

"What are you doing here?" She dared to speak, once the snack was gone and a pause appeared in the forced conversation.

"I'm here to talk. I quite enjoy your company, Princess."

The cocky smirk on his face only fueled her anger. "Well, forgive me if you don't understand, but you aren't exactly good company yourself."

"Whatever do you mean? I come, you feed me, I leave! I don't see the problem."

"The problem is, Chat Noir, or whatever your true name is, is that you tried to kill me! If you aren't going to, then why are you here?"

Now the figurative mask had been swept off Chat's face like a swift breeze had slapped him. He looked away, clearly contemplating the idea of fleeing. He then looked back at her again, with a fake sort of anger flickering in his inhuman green eyes.

"Would you rather I kill you then?"

"I- I... no."

"Then I'll return tomorrow."

And he jumped off the balcony. Marinette could not bring herself to the edge to see if he was alright — she knew he would be — but the sad look in his eyes burned behind her eyelids.

Despite all logic, she fell asleep with pity and guilt settling in her chest.

[kutemouse]

And Then He Was Gray (Part Three)

Disclaimer: I edited the pic I used for my header, but the OG pic belongs to BTS & BigHit.

Age Recommendation: 21+ (Not just a recommendation, kuties!)

Warnings: Swears, goddammit. Consumption of alcohol, bikinis and topless boys, pool party, JIHOPE, ass-grabbing, sexual tension x 7 billion, making out, JIN, JIN, AND MORE JIN.

Word Count: 1,943

Summary: Your best friend Jeon Soyeon invites you to a kick-back with all of her friends and their significant others, intent on hooking you up with someone. Everyone seems taken, though, until he arrives, wearing a star-studded, gray top that makes your mouth water.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

And Then He Was Gray (Jin One-Shot, Smut, Fluff) Part Three

Soyeon made me change first before changing into a skimpy, little navy blue bikini herself. “That barely covers your ass,” I advised as she walked out of the bathroom.

“Really?” she said, turning around and examining her butt. “Perfect.”

I rolled my eyes, quickly grabbing a lacy, kimono-type cover-up and throwing it over myself before Soyeon dragged us both out of the bedroom. Hobi and Jimin stumbled out of the bedroom next to us, giggling like crazy. Hobi reached out and grabbed a handful of Jimin’s ass, squeezing hard before capturing his boyfriend’s full lips in a passionate kiss.

“I need to get laid,” Soyeon sighed, causing them to break apart and laugh.

“Don’t worry, So-So,” Hobi said, winking. “You’ll get some tonight, I just know it. Bet you will too, Y/n.”

“Wh-What?” I stuttered.

“Jin likes you,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Soyeon squealed. “Told you!”

“I seriously doubt that,” I muttered, thinking about our brief interaction in the basement. Would he still be interested after I acted so cold?

“Trust, Y/n. I just talked to him, and believe me when I say he’s never talked about a girl after meeting them the way he talked about you,” Hobi said. “He even remembered your name.”

Hobi gave me an up-down glance, smirking as he surveyed my bare legs and waist. “And when he sees you in that bikini, trust me, he’ll be all over you.”

“Eyes up here,” I snapped as Hobi’s eyes roamed over my cleavage.

“Hey,” Jimin protested.

Hobi tugged Jimin close to him. “Trust me babe, she’s not my type,” he murmured before sensually nipping at the skin of Jimin’s neck, causing his boyfriend to sigh in pleasure.

“You guys are something else,” I said, shaking my head.

We reached the backyard to see pretty much everyone else there, some sitting on the pool’s edge with just their feet in and others already swimming. Soyeon ran up to the pool and gracefully dove in. I looked to the side and saw Miyeon watching her, biting her lip as if trying to hold herself back as Soyeon emerged, hair slicked back. “Come on in,” she said, holding her hand out to Miyeon. “The water’s great!”

Miyeon hesitated before jumping in right beside Soyeon. “Atta girl,” I thought, smiling to myself. “Get some.”

I glanced around and noticed a couple of people were still missing. “Where are Taehyung and Yuqi?” I asked aloud as I sat and dipped a foot in the pool.

Jimin rolled his eyes, settling in on my right. “Where do you think?”

I shuddered. “Actually, I don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, it’s probably less scarring that way.”

Yoongi and Soojin were sitting on my left, quietly watching the others with her head on his shoulder, while Namjoon and Minnie were already in the hot tub, giggling and stealing kisses here and there. Jungkook and Shuhua were also nowhere to be seen, and neither was the one person I actually wanted to talk to.

I stood up, deciding to take a little walk. I got no more than ten feet away when he appeared in front of me in nothing but a pair of black swim shorts. Jin’s eyes slid down my body, starting from my eyes, catching on my partially-exposed breasts, then roaming down to my bare waist before flicking back up to my eyes. I’d never felt so exposed in my life. “Hey,” he said, taking a step closer. “Y/n, right?”

So much for remembering my name. “Yeah. Jin, right?”

“Right.”

Now it was my turn to check him out. My gaze roamed over his broad shoulders, lingering over his tight, toned abs, and the subtle lines of muscle that drew my eyes below his waistline. His perfect, pink mouth was drawn upwards in a smirk. I unconsciously bit my lip, thinking how good those lips would feel against my skin.

Jin drew close and pressed his thumb against my bottom lip, drawing it out from between my teeth. “That’s my job,” he murmured. Heat flooded through me, wetting my core and causing every muscle in my body to clench.

I scoffed, pulling away slightly. “You don’t even know me.”

“Maybe,” he said. “But I know about you. I make you nervous, yeah?”

I didn’t answer, my cheeks so hot they felt like they were on fire.

Leaning down, his lips lightly brushed against the shell of my ear. “Good,” he whispered. Tingles shot down my nerves, making me shiver despite the warm summer air.

Jin drew back, still smirking, and stalked over to the hot tub where everyone else had congregated. He sat, putting his feet in the bubbling water, before turning to look at me. He flicked his eyes to the ground next to him, and I swallowed hard before coming over and sitting where he indicated. Jin nonchalantly pressed his palm into the ground behind me, effectively pinning me to his side, as the group engulfed him in their conversation. Mesmerized, I watched his lips as he talked and melted under his smile as he laughed. “What about you, Y/n?” Namjoon asked.

“Wh-What?” I stuttered, tearing my gaze away from Jin.

“Where do you go to school?”

“Oh, I don’t. My family owns a restaurant, and I’m waiting for my brother to get back and help out so I can go to university. He’s been studying culinary arts out of the country. I’ll probably do the same.”

“Wow, that’s so cool,” Soojin said, speaking for the first time since we’d met. “I love cooking. What type of food does your restaurant serve?”

“Authentic Korean cuisine” I said proudly. “Have been for four generations now.”

“Okay, it’s settled. Next kick-back, you’re in charge of food,” Yoongi joked, pointing at me.

Everyone laughed and moved on to another topic, but Jin’s eyes never left my face. “I also love to cook,” he murmured.

“That’s… cool,” I said weakly. “Maybe sometime we could… cook for each other.” God, could I get any more pathetic? That was the lamest excuse for a date I’d ever thought up.

To my surprise, Jin smiled. “That sounds fun.”

“It does?”

“Yeah. I’d love to get to know you more.”

Before my blush could deepen any further, Jin leaned down to whisper in my ear. “Listen,” he murmured. “I’m gonna go inside and start cleaning up. I think the night is drawing to a close, and everyone else looks a little… busy.”

I turned, seeing Minnie and Namjoon kissing deeply, as well as noticing Yoongi’s hand tracing lazy circles over Soojin’s thigh as he murmured something in her ear. Soyeon was tugging Miyeon upright, giggling, and Jimin and Hobi were already walking towards the house, hands roaming all over each other.

I sighed. Just as I predicted. Everyone was pairing off, and I was left being the most single singleton there ever was. “Want to help me?” Jin asked.

I looked at him in surprise. “Sure.”

The water splashed as he withdrew his feet and stood up, holding out his hand to me. I grasped it, and he easily drew me upright. Once we were both standing, he didn’t let go of my fingers. I felt rather small next to him, but I think that had more to do with his overbearing sexual presence than our heights. Jin led the way, still holding my hand, opening the sliding glass door and slipping through. I followed, and we quietly started putting food into containers.

“I’m always the one cleaning up,” Jin sighed, breaking the silence. “Everyone else is so wrapped up in their SO’s, they wouldn’t even notice if the food sat out all night.”

I chuckled. “I believe it.”

Once the food was put away, Jin turned and leaned against the counter, his hands grasping the edge of it behind him. I had to turn away once I realized his torso was still bare. The temptation of his abs drawing taut and his arm muscles flexing was almost too much to bear. “I-I should probably get h-home,” I stuttered. “Soyeon said she might stay the night, I’ll just text her and–”

“Turn around,” he commanded, cutting me off.

I couldn’t disobey even if I wanted to, but I still kept my eyes on the ground.

“Look at me.”

I bit my lip as I looked up into Jin’s dark, piercing eyes. He closed the distance between us in one stride and once again pressed his thumb into my bottom lip, drawing it out from between my teeth. “Didn’t I say that was my job?” he said, his tone stern.

“Fuck,” I thought, feeling my legs turn to jelly. He knew. There was no way he didn’t know.

“Don’t bite your lip again… unless you want to be punished.”

I shook my head fiercely, feeling myself slip. “No, I-I’ll be good.”

Jin smirked. “I know you will.”

He wrapped his hands around my waist and squeezed, lifting me onto the counter. “You’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?” he murmured, nudging my thighs apart with a knee, his dark eyes boring into mine as he pressed his body into my core.

“Y-Yes,” I stuttered.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Jin.”

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. “C’mon, baby girl. I know you know what I want to be called.”

I gulped, hoping my voice wouldn’t come out as shaky as I felt. “Yes… Sir.”

Jin let out a deep groan. “Good girl.”

He leaned down and pressed his full lips against my neck, flicking his tongue out for a taste and causing goosebumps to break out all over my skin. I threw my head back and moaned.

“Do you know your colors?” Jin murmured against my skin.

I nodded, unable to speak from finally obtaining the pleasure I didn’t know I’d been craving. “Words, baby girl,” he muttered before tracing his tongue over my sweet spot once more.

“Yes,” I gasped. “I do.”

“What’s your color now?”

“Green. So green it’s not even funny.”

Jin chuckled before drawing back and pressing his forehead to mine. “I knew you were my type of girl the second I laid eyes on you,” he murmured. “My friends have been trying to get me with someone ever since my break-up over a year ago. Unfortunately, none of those girls ever understood my needs.”

“I do,” I said breathlessly. “I know exactly what you need.”

Jin was so close now our breathes intermingled every time we exhaled. His gaze flickered between my lips and my eyes as he hooked his fingers under the fabric of my cover-up and slid it slowly down my shoulders. I shivered and gasped as air hit my bare skin. Jin was in total control of the situation, and he knew it. I saw how he relished in the way he was making me desperately compliant.

Finally, Jin grasped the back of my neck and kissed me, completely enveloping my lips with his full, pink ones. The push and pull between my mouth and his settled into a steady rhythm as we hungrily devoured each other, our thirst finally being quenched after what felt like miles of desert. Each time his lips met mine, Jin flicked out his tongue to taste me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and my legs around his middle, eliciting a groan from him as I drew him as close as possible. His hands slid up and down my naked waist, dipping down to my hips, then around my body to squeeze my barely-covered ass.

“Hey guys.”

We broke apart, and despite me roughly pushing Jin away in embarrassment, he kept his arms firmly wrapped around me.

Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ

BWAHAHA who do you think interrupted them?? 😏 Part Four is here!

[izayoi-no-mikoto]

Yuletide treat - Vatican Miracle Examiner

(contains spoilers for the anime.  Set soon after episode 12.)

Roberto is kind, and loyal, and good.

It doesn't particularly surprise Ryouta to discover this; in the course of his short life, he has looked up to two people above all others, Kou for what he has done in life and Josef for what he did in death, and both of them counted Roberto as someone special.  To earn the friendship and admiration of two such people is no small feat, and it says much of Roberto that he has done it.

Ryouta knew this before, but it was more an intellectual exercise than anything else; he hadn't met the man, had never spoken to him, had never witnessed the workings of his mind or the kindness of his spirit or the depth of his loyalty.  Of course Roberto had to be a good person, Ryouta thought, but he thought little deeper than that.

Then his condition takes a turn for the worse, and he sees three specters before him, and--Ah, it's time, he realizes, it must at last be my turn to die.

But it isn't.  Ryouta wakes up again, somehow--miraculously--still alive, and that is when he meets Roberto for the first time.

"That belongs to you," Ryouta says, nodding at the golden bookmark, and a flood of emotion pours over Roberto's face, too vast and too swift for Ryouta to translate, and--Ah, he thinks, I see why you became his friend, Josef.

That should, he thinks, be the end of it.  Kou spends seemingly every waking moment at Ryouta's bedside, but aside from that one time, Roberto doesn't accompany him, doesn't impose on them, doesn't interrupt.  Ryouta isn't particularly affected by this one way or the other, and in all honesty he didn't expect anything different.  Perhaps Roberto makes himself scarce because he's overwhelmed by the discovery of Josef's sacrament, or perhaps he just isn't as invested in Kou's little brother as Kou himself is--either of which would be perfectly understandable, and Ryouta sees no reason to even ponder the question.  But as Ryouta's condition improves from catastrophic to perilous to actually not half bad, Roberto increasingly visits--sometimes with a book under his arm, sometimes bringing nothing but himself and a gentle smile, always sincere--and Ryouta soon wonders if perhaps the reason for Roberto's prior absence was simply that he didn't want to infringe on their brotherly bonding when Ryouta's time might have been running out, or their celebration upon discovering that Ryouta would, at least for now, survive.

Today Roberto announces his arrival with a knock on the door.  At first Ryouta can't guess who it is, but Kou breaks off mid-sentence and glances over at the sound, his face already lighting up.  It's as though he can sense Roberto's presence through the wall, or perhaps can recognize the weight and cadence of his knuckles on wood.  Either way, he clearly knows who it is without asking, and it's the sheer joy in his expression as much as anything else that makes Ryouta call out, "Come in."

Ryouta is strong enough that his voice carries, now.

The door creaks open, and Roberto steps inside.  "Roberto!" Kou exclaims, as thought he can't hold back his excitement.  He so often greets Roberto this way; it tickles Ryouta, just a little, to see his responsible, mature older brother unfold like this.

"Hiraga," Roberto says by way of greeting, and even though using the surname should sound distant, impersonal, he manages to imbue it with a fathomless fondness that fills every syllable.  Then he looks over at Ryouta.  "Hello, Ryouta," he says pleasantly, and though the depth of emotion has slipped away, the warmth is very real.  "How are you feeling?"

"Quite well, thank you," Ryouta replies. "In fact, I feel better than I have in... quite a long time."

Roberto and Kou exchange a glance, one of those looks that speaks to implicit understanding of things left unsaid and a bond extending beyond the capacities of human explanation.  It's at times like this that Ryouta wishes he were inside their circle, wishes that he could understand exactly what they do, how they live, the things they've seen and experienced together, because there is obviously something here that he doesn't understand, something involving him, and--

But at the same time, he wants no part of it.  He knows that there are some places he is not meant to intrude.

"I'm glad to hear that," Roberto says, and he pulls up a chair and takes a seat beside Kou.  "I was just thinking that if your doctors okay it, you might appreciate something other than hospital food.  I'm pretty good in the kitchen, you know."

Kou beams.  "Oh, will you cook for him, Roberto?" he asks, excited, then turns to Ryouta with bright eyes.  "Roberto is a fantastic cook, Ryouta, I promise you that you've never tasted anything nearly so delicious--he can make positively anything, one time we were in North America and he made us bison--"

And so begins a cascade of gushing descriptions of pancetta-wrapped beef tenderloin, and cranberry-gorgonzola-pecan spinach salad, and braised soy-apple pork chops, and all matter of cuisine that Kou without exception praises rapturously, his hands clasped and stars in his eyes.  Roberto doesn't even try to cut in; he just watches and listens with his cheek propped up in one hand, wearing an expression that is equal parts bemused, flattered and hopelessly fond.  And if he won't stop Kou, well, then Ryouta can't find it in himself to stop him, either.

"--and if you have the opportunity to eat Roberto's cooking, you simply cannot pass it up!" Kou concludes at last with a decisive nod.

Ryouta blinks, dazed.  "I look forward to it," he says faintly, because it seems like a safer option than mentioning any specific details that might get Kou started again, and also because it's true--after all, he trusts his brother's judgment implicitly, in all things.

"You're exaggerating, Hiraga," Roberto says with a roll of his eyes.  "If you talk up my cooking that much, he'll only be disappointed.  It's better not to give him false hope."

Kou gapes as though Roberto's self-effacement is a personal insult.  "Disappointed?  I have never once been disappointed by your cooking, Roberto!  If anything--"

Kou's renewed fervor is cut short by the ringing of his cell phone.  He breaks off to fish his phone out of his pocket and glance at the screen.  Then his face goes blank.  "I apologize, but I have to take this," he says, his eyes flitting to Roberto.  Roberto gazes back, then nods.  Vatican business, then.  Kou excuses himself from the room, leaving Roberto and Ryouta to their own devices.

Roberto waits until the door softly clicks shut, and then he turns to Ryouta.  "I wish it could have happened without you almost dying, but I'm glad I finally got to meet you," he says.  The bluntness is painful, but refreshing--everyone knew Ryouta's life had hung in the balance, but no one else has dared speak the words aloud in his presence, as though giving voice to the thought might bring the reaper back to finish the job.  Roberto, it seems, has no such qualms.  "Your brother speaks well of you."

Ryouta's cheeks go hot.  "My brother is too kind," he says, enfeebled.

Roberto chuckles softly.  "That's true," he allows.  "But that doesn't mean he's wrong."

Ryouta's cheeks must be bright red by now, he's sure of it.  Of course his brother speaks well of him; a good older brother cares for his younger brother, and Kou is nothing if not good in every way.  But hearing someone else say it is completely different.

"I've always looked up to him," Ryouta admits.  "I know I can't do everything he does, especially when I've been in the hospital so much. But I try to live up to his ideals."

"Not many people can live up to Hiraga's ideals," Roberto says, unexpectedly frank.  "Believe me, I've tried."

Ryouta studies him, not bothering to try to hide it.  He's pretty sure Roberto would see through him anyway.  Roberto meets his gaze, then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.  "You must miss him," he says, gently.  "What with him being gone on missions for the Vatican all the time."

"I do miss him," Ryouta says.  No point denying it.  "But I know he's doing what's important to him."

Roberto's pursed lips soften, just a bit.  "When he got the phone call saying your condition had worsened, he dropped everything to fly to Germany to be here with you," he says.  "You're important to him, too.  Don't forget that."

Ryouta flashes back to that moment.  The three specters he'd seen so often, too often, except now they loomed over him and he realized, Ah, this time they're here for me--and then, that tiny voice of weakness, the one he'd spent so long trying to crush out of existence, raised its head and whispered, faint and defeated:  I just wish I could have seen my brother one more time.

"Father Roberto," Ryouta says, "can I tell you something?"

Roberto's eyebrows rise.  He reclines in his chair, crosses his legs, folds his hands in his lap.  "What is it?"

"I don't know if you'll believe me," Ryouta says.

Roberto's somber expression doesn't even twitch.  "My job is quite literally to try to disprove miracles," he says.  "I have to be skeptical about everything.  So no, I can't promise I'll believe you.  But I can promise that I'll hear you out."

So Ryouta tells him.

Ryouta tells him about the three hooded specters.  Ryouta tells him about Danny, and his mother, and all the sick and ailing children he'd seen swept away in their wake.  Ryouta tells him about praying for the dying, believing it was all he could do, believing it was the reason he was put on this earth.  Ryouta tells him about the sacrament.

Ryouta tells him about seeing the three specters once again and realizing, deep in his gut and with chilling certainty, Ah, it's my turn.

He falls quiet at last, and Roberto sits beside him and lets the silence stretch.  It grows deeper and heavier, and Ryouta fidgets, second-guessing his decision.  He doesn't believe me, he thinks, suddenly doubting himself, he doesn't believe me, I've ruined everything, I--

"I'll be honest," Roberto says abruptly.  "I don't know if you can actually see, I don't know, the agents of Death or whatever you'd like to call them.  I don't know if they actually exist or if you're just hallucinating them or if you're making them up out of whole cloth.  I don't even know how I would prove or disprove it.  But I do believe you."

Ryouta's breath escapes him in a relieved rush.  His head suddenly feels too light.  "You believe me?"

"You're an honest kid," Roberto says.  "Like I said, I don't know if what you see is real or not.  But this isn't an investigation. It's real enough to you, and that's all that matters to me."

Ryouta swallows, suddenly overwhelmed by the urge to cry.  He manages to control himself and settles for sniffling a bit instead.

"But Ryouta," Roberto continues, leaning forward again, and now his face and his voice are so grave that Ryouta feels his heart drop, "you have to promise me one thing."

Ryouta gulps.  His hands clench into nervous fists beneath the sheets.  "What is it?" he asks, his voice small.

What could Roberto want of him?  Was he going to demand that Ryouta never breathe a word of this again?  Never speak of this to Kou?  Or--

"Promise me," Roberto says, "that if you ever see them come for your brother, you'll tell me."

Ryouta's anxiously churning mind screeches to a halt.  He stares at Roberto, perplexed.  "Why?" he blurts.  "It's not--" and then his voice falters, and he has to gather himself up again before he can resume speaking.  "It's not something I'd wish upon anyone else," he mumbles at last, the words dragged almost unwilling out of him.  "To know that someone will die, and not be able to save them--"

"I'll save him."

Ryouta had been saying something, but the sheer ferocity in Roberto's voice makes him forget all words.

Roberto takes a deep breath.  "I'll save him," he repeats, more restrained this time, but without losing an ounce of steel.  "No matter what, I'll save him."  He stares at Ryouta as though willing him to understand something that cannot be put into mere words.  "I'd go through Hell to save him," he says, quiet and strained but utterly unyielding.  "I'd do anything to save him.  So you have to promise me.  Please."

Unable to speak, Ryouta nods his agreement.  A promise.  Roberto leans back, as though he is only now satisfied.

The door swings open.  "My apologies," Kou says, sliding his phone back into his pocket as he reenters the room.  "I couldn't--" he breaks off, glancing between the two of them as though he can sense the heaviness of what has in his absence passed between them.  "Did I interrupt something?" he asks.

"No, no," Roberto says, leaning his chair back on two legs and waving a lazy hand in dismissal.  "Ryouta and I were just chatting while you were gone.  Your brother's a good kid, you know?"

Kou's hesitation instantly evaporates.  "I know he is," he says, casting an affectionate look Ryouta's way, and so he misses the painfully soft expression that sweeps over Roberto's face.

He misses it, but Ryouta doesn't.  I'd do anything for him, Roberto had said, and Ryouta suddenly knows, with more certainty than he thinks he's ever felt in his life, that Roberto's words are the truth.  And Kou might not know it yet, might not yet realize it, but--

Ah, Ryouta realizes, now I know why my brother loves you.