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aura-bug · 10 months

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What is your favorite yokai(Both from Yo-kai Watch and real mythology) ?

YIPPEE TIME TO RANT

My favorite yokai from YKW are Unfairy, Wobblewok, and Arachnia, and they all have one thing in common: gremlin behavior

unfairy is a stupid little rat thing that took down two war generals and then got defeated by a hose. wobblewok is a fucking Thang sealed inside a giant kamameshi rice cooker who lurks the deepest pits of hell and has killed hundreds. and arachnia is arachnia

as for my favorite MYTHOLOGICAL yokai, it'd probably be any of the creechers originating from buddhist lore. tbh that hardly narrows it down but I'm specifically talking about dragons/any of the 8 legions, since a majority of my OCs revolve around those yokai in particular and I think theyre really cool aaaaaaaaa.

the 8 legions (hachibushuu) are a group of 8 different celestial species that reside in the Buddhist version of heaven (<- using that term VERYYYYY loosely, also technically one of the legions don't live in Tendo, they got kicked out, it was a whole thing). They're super cool and powerful and they serve Buddhas/Bodhisattvas and whateva.

The 8 legions are made up of the Ten/Devas (buddhist equivalent of angels but not really), the Ryu/Nagas (dragons), the Karura/Garuda (bird people that eat dragons), the Magorakas (half-snake people), the Kinnara (half-bird musicians), the Yasha (heavenly warrior demon guys), the Kendatsuba (artistic spirits that eat scents), and the Ashura (scary demigod guys that are angry and violent and aren't allowed in Tendo anymore boohoo).

The 8 legions are actually Hindu in origin, but then the Buddha told them all to join his cool kids club (buddhism) and then they did

I could talk at length abt each of these guys but then this would be like 500 paragraphs longer than it already is. so I wont but I WILL do so if prompted

If we're talking about yokai that are SPECIFICALLY japanese in origin, there's a lot of ones that are extremely silly that I love a lot so I'll list them off rapid fire

-ghost that tells you to kill yourself (itsuki)

-rat that fucking explodes (kodama nezuki)

-water behemoth (umi bozu)

-eyeball ass jumpscare (shirime)

-literally any of the women (all the yokai ending in "onna")

-big spider (tsuchigumo)

-tamamo no mae (tamamo no mae)

-any of the several ridiculous prophet yokai that appear once and tell you your crops are gonna die unless you like their image and share it with the rest of the village. it was like the origin of those superstitious chain emails (this includes yokai like Amabiko, Arie, Kudan, Jinja Hime, etc etc, but my personal favorite is Amabie, SIMPLY because it originated from a misspelling)

-any chimera yokai (kotobuki, nue, baku, rokugyo, etc. I just think theyre neat)

but my FAVORITE yokai of ALL TIME

IS THIS THING. NANJAKA.

ITS NAME LITERALLY MEANS "WHAT"

IT ORIGINATES FROM THE BAKEMONO TSUKUSHI EMAKI (1820) AND IT HAS NO DESCRIPTION. NO STORY. NO EXPLANATION. NOTHING. IT DOESN'T EVEN HAVE AN UPPER HALF. THERE'S ABSOLUTELY NO WAY TO EVEN GUESS WHAT THE ARTIST WAS THINKING WHEN MAKING THIS GUY. I DON'T EVEN THINK THE AUTHOR THEMSELVES KNEW WHAT THE FUCK THEY WERE DOING BECAUSE ITS NAME IS JUST "WHAT." ITS LIKE THE AUTHOR WOKE UP AFTER BEING BLACKOUT DRUNK, SAW THIS DRAWING, AND WAS LIKE "ok what the fuck is this"

I ADORE IT. PEAK YOKAI WEIRDNESS AT ITS FINEST

#rant OVER. I just really love ghosts n spirits n all that jazz #yo kai watch #japanese folklore #long post

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kaiapaia · 2 years

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MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

I'm gonna be honest, this is just some really self indulgent domestic fluff and smut with my favorite onigiri chef. Like if you enjoyed, reblog if you also agree that Osamu's love language is food.

Pairing: Miya Osamu/Reader

Content warnings: no pronouns used, afab reader. Contains smut.

WC: 2179

AO3 link: here

Everyone who knows Osamu knows he loves to eat. He tells people that he can’t pick a favorite food, and for the most part that’s true, he’ll eat anything put in front of him. There are a few things he’ll savor - his mom’s spicy tuna mayo onigiri, Granny Yumie’s kamameshi, and the takoyaki he gets every summer at Tanabata in Osaka are some of the dishes that come to mind - but Osamu’s favorite thing to eat is you.

The smell of frying food greets him when he opens the door to your shared apartment. He toes his shoes off and hangs his hat on the hook by the door, and pads over to the kitchen. You’re standing in front of the stove, hair tied up with a too big apron tied around your waist, squinting at a handwritten recipe card on the counter as several pots sizzle and boil in front of you on the stove. The apron was a joke gift from Atsumu, a housewarming gift with ‘kiss the cook’ printed in big letters on the front, and Osamu is pretty sure he recognizes his mother’s handwriting on the recipe card as he steps in the kitchen to wraps his arms around your waist and tuck his head in your neck.

“Welcome home,” you greet him, affection heavy in your voice as you raise a hand to gently card through his hat hair while you stir a pot of sauce on the stove. He just grunts and tightens his arms around you, turning his head to trail little kisses up your neck to your ear, where he tugs your earlobe in between his teeth and then blows cool air on the wet skin, sending shivers skittering down your spine. You turn in his hold, a smile on your lips as you swat at him playfully. “Samu! What are you doing?”

“Just followin instructions,” he says, an impish smile on his face as he turns around with you in his arms to pin you against the countertop “See, it says right here,” he skims a teasing finger over the swell of your breasts, “I’ve gotta kiss the cook.”

Before you come back with the sarcastic reply he knows is on the tip of your tongue, he leans down and captures your mouth with his. The kiss is soft and slow, and your lips taste like cucumber mint chapstick. One of his large hands cups the back of your head, and you nip his plush bottom lip. His fingers in your hair tighten instinctively, and a deep groan rumbles out of his chest. The kiss starts to get hungrier, but as he runs his tongue over the seam of your mouth a beeping timer goes off from somewhere behind him.

“The katsu!” you say, pulling away and scrambling out of his arms. You scurry over to the stove and begin fussing with the sizzling pot of oil, using tongs to fish out two golden brown cutlets. “Dinner will be ready soon, so you should go shower,” you make a shooing motion at him without turning away from the stove. “You stink.”

Osamu takes a moment to appreciate your mussed hair and the way you haven’t quite caught your breath yet before he shoots you a little two-finger salute and ambles out to the bathroom. The hot water does feel nice on his arms, sore from slinging 50 kilo rice sacks, but his stomach rumbles loudly, so he finishes the shower quickly and strolls back out into the living room. He’s just in time to watch you set out two steaming bowls of katsudon, hot soup, and pickled vegetables on the dining room table, before you shuck your apron and take a seat.

“Thank ya for dinner, darlin,” he says, leaning over to kiss your cheek before he tucks into his food. There’s quiet conversation as the two of you eat and share stories about your workdays, and your cozy apartment feels warm and intimate as the world shrinks to just the two of you at the table.

Eventually, all that is left is empty dishes and your joined hands on the table. Osamu rubs his thumb on the back of your hand and watches with his chin propped in his hand as you gesture wildly while you talk about the shenanigans of the coworker who you’ve affectionately dubbed your work wife.

“- and then the elevator doors opened, seriously, it was like they were on cue,” you laughed. You sighed and squeezed his hand affectionately. “I suppose it’s time to clean up,” you distentangle your fingers from his and move to get up, only to look at him with big eyes when he puts a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“You cook, I clean, remember? That’s the rule,” he says, standing. He reaches over you to gather bowls in his hands, deliberately leaning in close to press a kiss to your hair. He hears shuffling behind him and knows you’re getting up to follow.

“But you’ve been in the kitchen all day,” you argue. “At least let me help.”

“A’right, fine. You dry,” Osamu tosses you a rag as he takes his place at the sink. He waits till you’re occupied with a pot before he flicks a handful of water at you, and he can’t bite back his snigger at the way you startle and glare at him. A few dishes later, he sees you move out of the corner of his eye, but he isn’t fast enough to dodge the now-wet towel that cracks across his ass with a flick of your wrist. “Kinky,” he whistles.

“Fair’s fair, babe,” you wink at him as you take a clean dish from the sink. You squeak as he claps a soapy hand on your ass, leaving a wet handprint on the seat of your lounge pants.

“Now it’s fair,” he says smugly, jiggling your cheek in his hand for a moment before he begins washing the last bowl. You sputter and stick your tongue out at him as you dry the last dish, before turning to try and examine the wet spot on your pants. Osamu just laughs at your indignation and dries his hands. He reaches out to loop a finger in the drawstring of your pants and draws you in, the fingertips of his other hand skating up your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He buries his fingers in your hair and traces your jawline with his thumb, staring at you contemplatively. “I think I’m still hungry,” he says, looping an arm around your waist.

“Why didn’t you say anything before we cleaned everything up?” you ask, wrinkling your nose at him. You go to pull away, and he tightens his grip on you.

“Because I want somethin’ sweet,” he says. He closes the gap between you and kisses you, the movement languid but purposeful. He kisses like he’s hungry and wants to savor each pass of your lips, each swipe of tongue. The movement of his mouth against yours draws a sigh from you, and he swallows it greedily. Slowly, he pulls back, appreciating the way you blink up at him. He swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting some of the moisture that clings to it, and brings it to his mouth with an appreciative hum. “Sweet,” he murmurs, meeting your gaze. “But I know ya have somethin sweeter for me, darlin. Will ya lemme taste you?”

You hold his eyes for a moment before a giggle bursts out of you. “God, Samu, that’s so corny,” you laugh, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Don’t act like ya don’t love it, sweetheart,” he says, leaning in to nibble on your ear. “Whaddaya say?” he whispers to you. “Gonna lemme eat you out, make ya feel good?”

Your laugh stutters and turns breathless in your chest. “Please,” you breathe against him.

As soon as you ask, you feel him bend down and haul you over his shoulder. Another laugh tumbles out of you, high and surprised as your world upends and you find yourself looking at his delectably round ass. You can’t help yourself, you reach down and slap it, only to yelp as he turns his head and bites your ass through the thin fabric of your lounge pants. You’re still breathlessly giggling as he deposits you on your bed, kneeling between your legs like he belongs there, before he leans down to capture your lips in another kiss. You can feel him smiling into it too, before he deepens the kiss and draws a moan out of you as he trails his lips from your mouth down your neck.

You feel him nose aside the collar of your shirt and bite down, sucking a mark into the soft skin just below your collarbone. At the same time, his hands start dragging themselves up your sides, bringing your shirt with them. Osamu pulls your shirt off and busies himself with kissing and sucking his way down your chest, leaving a trail of marks as he brings his mouth to one of your breasts, nipple already pert and pebbled. He sucks it in his mouth and rolls it with his tongue, before gently biting at it.

“What - hah- happened to eating me out?” you pant, looking down at him.

He lets your breast slide out of his mouth and smiles lazily at you, grey eyes twinkling with mischief. “Relax,” he says as he kisses his way over to your other breast, rolling your wet nipple in his fingers. “Ya don’t rush a good meal.” He gives your breast the same attention, making sure to not leave either peak unattended. He continues until he has you panting and shifting underneath him, rolling your hips in little circles against his chest in search of friction. You feel him huff a quiet laugh against your skin, the puff of air cool on the wet marks littering your chest.

Leisurely, teasingly, he begins to make his way down, sitting back on his haunches to pull your lounge pants off, and then slowly, your panties. He takes his time, enjoying the way they stick to your folds as he pulls them away. He trails his fingers all the way down your leg, carefully sliding your panties off and discarding them somewhere behind him before he presses a kiss to your ankle. He meets your gaze as he readjusts himself to lay between your legs, his big hands wrapping around your thighs as he settles himself in front of your sex.

“Thank you for the meal,” he murmurs, laving one kitten lick over your clit before diving in.

Osamu is a messy eater. Your pants and moans are undercut with the sounds of him greedily eating you out, and over the blood rushing in your ears you can hear him murmuring - “you taste so good darlin, could stay here forever.”

Your thighs start to shake and he knows you’re getting close. You feel him trace a finger over your opening, teasing you for just a second before he sinks a finger into your wet heat. A moan shakes itself out of your ribcage as you arch your back, fingers fisting in the sheets and your thighs tighten around his head. He sucks your clit in his mouth and adds a second finger, and he crooks his fingers in the perfect way that has you falling apart around him. You throw your head back and come on his face, and you can feel him moan as he works you through your orgasm.

As soon as your vision clears you reach down and tug on whatever you can reach, urging him up to kiss you. You run your nails through the short hair at the base of his neck, and he shivers in your hold while you taste yourself on his tongue.

You roll your hips against him, feeling his hardness against your upper thigh, and he drops his head to your shoulder with a moan. “C’mon baby, let me take care of you,” you urge, coaxing Osamu onto his back. He quickly shucks his pants and boxers and pulls you on top of him, pulling you in for a sweet kiss before you sit up and line him up with your entrance.

“M’ not gonna last,” he gasps out as you sink down on him, his hips snapping up to meet yours. You both moan in unison as you begin rocking your hips against his, the sensation of him so deep inside you too much for both of you. You brace your hands against his chest and do your best to ride him, but your thighs are already shaky after your orgasm, so you don’t protest when he grabs your hips and begins to chase his release in your warmth. Keeping yourself upright with one hand, you reach between your bodies and find your clit. The brush of nerves makes your eyes squeeze shut, and you bring yourself to a second peak moments before his hips stutter and you feel his cock twitch inside you as he comes with a low groan.

You both take a moment to recover, panting chest to chest. You move first, smattering kisses over Osamu’s face and chest as he blinks up at you with a dopey grin. “I love you,” he sighs happily, tracing nonsense shapes over your hip. “Next time someone asks me what my favorite food is, I’m gonna say your pu-”

You slap him on the shoulder. “Don’t you dare, Miya Osamu!”

#miya osamu x you #miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #miya osamu smut #kaiawrites

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