#osaiwa

#4: One of the challenges I've set up for myself for this year is to take a prompt and turn its original intention on its head. For today's OsaIwa post, I decided to take a line from an NSFW prompt list and make it fluffy and innocent. Though, it did turn more crack-y than fluffy, but oh well. Atsumu is so fun to fuck with.

If Miya Atsumu had one single regret in his life, it would be that he didn't eat Osamu in the womb. If he had two, it was that he had let Osamu and Iwaizumi meet. Of course, both of these regrets were easy to have in hindsight: fetus Atsumu hadn't known what an absolute shit his twin would turn out to be, and the Atsumu who was fresh off his Olympic high hadn't realized that his athletic trainer had the worst taste known to man, but what could he do? Besides murder Osamu and dump his body in the ocean?

"I think you're overreacting, TsumTsum," Bokuto said as they drew near to the door of Osamu's first Onigiri Miya branch. Atsumu just looked balefully up at his friend. Bokuto loved everyone, even that moron Osamu, so it wasn't unsurprising that he didn't see the problem here.

"Nah, it's not an overreaction," Atsumu said. "If I throw him in the ocean, Ma really would skin me. She's got a taxidermist all picked out ta dye my hair dark and stuff me and set me up in her living room so she can pretend she has one nice, quiet son instead of the two she's got."

"Not what I meant, but man, that's dark," Bokuto commented.

"We deserve it," Atsumu said with a shrug. He straightened his shoulders and opened the door.

"Welcome to Oni-- aw, fuck, it's you," Osamu groused.

"Great ta see you too, scrub," Atsumu snipped. Osamu rolled his eyes.

"Hey, Bokkun, nice ta see ya," he said.

"Hi, Miyaasam!" Bokuto chirped. They took their seats at the counter, and Atsumu squinted around suspiciously.

"What're you lookin' for?" Osamu snarled.

"Nothin'," Atsumu said. Osamu rolled his eyes again, but then a smirk began creeping across his face.

"Hey, babe, we got company!" he called over his shoulder. Hardly a moment later, Iwaizumi emerged from the kitchen - which, rude, Osamu never let Atsumu back there! - and smiled at the sight of Atsumu and Bokuto.

"Hey. How're you two recovering? I caught the stream for that last Jackals and Falcons match. Looked brutal."

"You have no idea," Bokuto groaned. "I thought my arms were gonna fall off at that last spike in the second from Aran!"

"Yeah, Aran-kun's a cannon," Osamu laughed. "Hajime, are ya hungry? I just got done with a fresh batch, extra spicy fer ya."

"You're a menace," Iwaizumi laughed, leaning up to press a kiss to Osamu's cheek - gross - and then walked around the counter to sit beside Atsumu.

"Here, scrub, you can have some too," Osamu said, setting out plates for them. "Tryin' a new recipe. Bokkun, got some tarako here fer ya, so ya don't burn yer tongue off."

"You're the best, Miyaasam!" Bokuto crowed, pulling his plate closer to himself. Atsumu rolled his eyes and grabbed an onigiri for himself. He didn't bother asking what was in it— it could be anything from spicy tuna mayo to some horrific combination of half-spoiled ingredients Osamu had lying around to fuck with Atsumu, and there was no way to find out without taking a bite.

This time, it did turn out to be actual food, spicy kimchi and mayo, and something else that Atsumu couldn't quite put his finger on. He hummed, taking a second bite.

"Balance is off," he said with a shrug, then stuffed the rest in his mouth.

"Which way?" Osamu asked. Atsumu hummed, chewing.

"Yer mayo's overpowerin'. Yer goin' fer spice here, right?" Osamu nodded. "If yer tryin' fer the consistency with how much mayo yer puttin' in, ya may wanna chop yer kimchi finer so it'll mix with less. It'll also bring out whatever that extra spice is— chili sauce?"

"Tried it with siracha this time, fer the consistency yer talkin' about. Not the worst idea you've had," Osamu said. He glanced at Iwaizumi and snorted. "Do ya need to use yer safeword, darlin'?" he asked, and Atsumu promptly sprayed the bite he'd just taken all over the counter. "Tsumu, what the fuck?!" Osamu cried.

"You what the fuck?! You can't just say that shit, ya fuck!"

Iwaizumi burst out laughing. He slapped Atsumu on the back as he accepted the glass Osamu held out for him. "I'd hate to see you react to how we actually talk at home," he wheezed once he had taken a long drink.

"I never shoulda let you two meet," Atsumu grumbled. "You were supposed ta be better than this, Iwaizumi-san!"

"I mean. You've met Oikawa. That's my best friend." Iwaizumi just shrugged and took another sip of his drink. "And yeah, Samu, it is too much for me. You'll get me there eventually, though, don't worry."

"I mean, the process is half the fun," Osamu said, and though to any other ear it would've been completely innocuous, Atsumu knew his brother. He knew when Osamu was fucking with him, and when he meant the double entendres that he always claimed Atsumu was reaching too far for. Atsumu rolled his eyes, scooped up Iwaizumi's plate and dumped his own remaining onigiri on it, and walked out the door. He ignored the sound of his brother shouting at him and Iwaizumi and Bokuto laughing. He'd had more than enough of that moron for one day. Really, for his entire life, but...

At the end of the day, Atsumu did love his brother. Which was why he hadn't eaten him in utero, or murdered him and found some way to dispose of him without facing his ma's wrath. Not that the fucker deserved it.

Though. His onigiri was pretty good.

Come into my ask box, ask trick or treat, and I’ll either treat you to some fluff, or trick you with some darkness!

Trick

Hajime wasn’t entirely sure why he was still here. He was dead, that much he knew. But, for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he was still attached to this cemetery. From his previous attempts, he knew he couldn’t leave. If he did have unfinished business, or whatever the hell was keeping him here, he couldn’t remember it. All he could remember was his name - Iwaizumi Hajime - and that he was attached to this creepy, spooky, godforsaken cemetery.

And like clockwork, the handsome man kept coming. At the same time, every single day since Hajime had woken up from wherever he had been. The man was good looking. Tall, chiseled features. He was the kind of man Hajime would have hit on obscenely at the bar.

“Hey, honey,” the man said as he crouched by a headstone. “You would have been proud of me today. I finally did it. I finally opened the shop. Onigiri for everyone!” The man chuckled hollowly.

For as long as Hajime could remember, which, admittedly, wasn’t very long at all, the man had come and done this. Told whomever he was visiting all about his day. He would tell them how things were going, and then he would cry, and then he would whisper something Hajime couldn’t hear, and then he would leave.

Of course, Hajime was always curious about who this handsome man was visiting. But he never went to look. He felt like that was a breach of privacy. However, he did notice something. Day by day, visit by visit, the headstone was deteriorating. Far faster than it should have been. And that made Hajime’s curiosity all the more powerful.

“This is so fucking hard, honey. This is so hard without you. But I’ll make - we’ll make it.” The man put his hand down on the headstone, fingers trembling slightly. Hajime saw the stone crack in half. The man didn’t seem to notice at all. “I love you, honey. I’ll see you tomorrow.” The man stood, and left the cemetery.

As soon as he’d walked off the property, the stone started to split in two. Before he could think any better of it, Hajime leapt forward, and tried to stop the stone from falling apart.

“What the fuck,” he whispered. He faced the stone, which was crumbling. And he faced his hands, which were trembling, just like the handsome man’s had. But he couldn’t help himself. The stone had his name on it. Iwaizumi Hajime. In large letters. But it was the date that threw Hajime off. Most of the stones in the cemetery were far more recent than the date this stone read. This stone was at least a decade old.

He felt a pull, then a snap, then everything went dark.