Because I enjoy teasing:
Mar. 23rd, 2008 11:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
misoraSome (Easter?) snippets, from a few various fics I'm currently working on.
From Lotus Resiliens, ch 6:
“Oh, yeah? Can you do this?” He bent and placed his palms on the ground, flipping his legs into the air after him, and held his body straight and locked in a handstand. His long red tunic fell slightly, revealing his taut stomach. The gang gasped and watched in awe as he barely moved, and Katara found herself watching his exposed torso and sinewy forearms for what ended up being a very long, awkward and speechless moment.
He let his legs fall, righting himself once more, and again the group clapped. He looked over at her expectantly, bronze eyes issuing a challenge. She snapped back to attention and resumed her scowl.
“Of course I can. I’ve done lots of strength and stretching exercises. I’m very flexible,” she seethed, practically snarling the words at him before hoisting herself up on her hands and holding a steady handstand to rival his.
She realized belatedly that gravity would take its consequence on her clothing as it had on Zuko’s, as her water tribe robe parted and slipped over her head to cover her face, and she knew then—with a feeling in her gut akin to a sinking sea prune—that her leggings and most likely her stomach were bared. It wasn’t such a big deal to expose her bare skin in such a way to Aang, and to her brother, and to other members of the group; but to do it in front of the haughty Fire Prince was humiliating. To make it worse, the group’s reaction to her handstand was dead silence. The only sound was that of Aang’s slightly embarrassed cough.
Katara flipped her legs back down and righted herself again, trying desperately and futilely to hide the pink that had risen in her cheeks. Zuko was watching her as he had before, she noticed, but now with a glimmer of something she couldn’t quite define in his good gold eye.
_________
From Repentance (NC-17 continuation of "Absolution", Z/K):
The next morning, Katara was aware of the worst feeling of aching soreness she’d ever experienced in her entire life, as she awoke in her own bed after dreaming she’d spent the night in another.
It hurt to stand. It hurt to sit. It hurt to lie down.
She took her time bathing in the warm water of a private bath area adjacent to her room, soaking herself for half an hour—until the water had lost most of its heat—and letting it flow gently over her legs and between her thighs. As the water moved according to her will it took on a slightly hazy gleam, and seemed to shimmer as it moved intimately over her tender flesh, soothing her muscles like a balm.
This was not an injury from a battle…but strangely, it feels that way.
The ambivalence of her own feelings startled her. There was a stab of guilt, of course; she was now no longer pure, as a young maiden, by Water Tribe standards. It had been her responsibility to maintain her virginity until marriage, as was custom. Hakoda would be beyond livid if he found out. Alongside it was the vague taste of regret that slid down her throat, and pooled tightly in her stomach.
Just who is providing penitence here; him or me?
________
From Untitled (extremely-late gift fic for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
orepookpook):
“…It’s about a day or two’s travel on Appa,” Aang was saying, calmly. His big gray eyes were looking up earnestly at his firebending instructor. “We’re supposed to meet Guru Pahtik there, who I’ve met before. He’s a really nice guy. Really, really loves onion and banana juice…”
Zuko was nodding, but not truly listening to him. His mind felt too preoccupied, too weighted. It was as if his thoughts were laden with lead. He turned his face to see that Aang was looking up at him with a curious mixture of concern and skepticism.
“Are you sure that this is what you want, Zuko?” the monk asked, twisting his hands around the wooden staff he held. “You’ve come so far along this path…I just feel it would be a shame to not have you with us at the end, to help us.”
The Fire Prince kept his expression remote, as he turned to look out at the expanse of ground below them from where they stood on the stone balcony. “I’ve already helped you. I’ve taught you the essentials; you should have no problem honing your firebending skills further. You’ve learned a lot in a short amount of time.” He turned to the boy once more and rewarded him with a small smile. “You’re a smart kid.”
Aang briefly returned the smile. “I mean, you originally said you wanted to help us overthrow Ozai. I thought you were going to stay with us through it, to the end, to face him with us. But…if you want to stay and make certain your mother stays safe…I understand.” He ducked his head. “I’ve never had a mother, so I don’t know what it would feel like to have one…and I certainly can’t imagine how important it would be to have one back, after thinking you’d never see her again.” He met Zuko’s eyes once more. “But I think it’s pretty important to you.”
__________
From Il Bordello (WHR 30_lemons fic. Context: Between episodes 24 and 25, Amon hides Robin at his apartment for a night, and she makes an interesting discovery.):
The tea kettle chose that moment to interrupt her, whistling loudly.
After allowing it to steep appropriately, Robin collected her pot of tea and a small cup—as well as a dish containing more pickled ginger and a dumpling from the fridge—and went back to the living room with her items. She set the pot and the food on the small end table near the couch, and looked determinedly at the widescreen TV and DVD ensemble underneath it. Next to the disc player was a moderately-sized stack of discs in plastic sleeves. She looked at them from across the room for a long moment before she realized what they were; Touko had owned DVDs as well, and had rented or bought them from various places.
A movie, she thought. That will take my mind off of things.
She went to the small cabinet underneath the TV and knelt down, examining the stack of sleeved discs. Most of them were unmarked, without any designation of what sort of movie it was at all, which was not very helpful. But, rummaging through them further, she found some that were labeled. Strangely labeled.
Most of the titles confused her. From Japanese to English, the names translated to things like ‘Nurses Gown Offering’, ‘Loli Wife First Ecstasy Violation’, ‘Splash’, and ‘Super Body Private Teacher’. There was one called Wakamezake, which was read as ‘seaweed sake’—which to Robin, made absolutely no sense. Sake made of seaweed?
There were a couple in English, most with names she didn’t understand either. Lolita. Nymphet. The only one she understood was a French title, L’Amant, ‘The Lover’, also marked ‘unrated director’s cut’. Ah, a romance.
...Amon didn’t really seem like the type who would watch romantic movies, but…
_________
Hehehe. ^^
*goes back to writing*
From Lotus Resiliens, ch 6:
“Oh, yeah? Can you do this?” He bent and placed his palms on the ground, flipping his legs into the air after him, and held his body straight and locked in a handstand. His long red tunic fell slightly, revealing his taut stomach. The gang gasped and watched in awe as he barely moved, and Katara found herself watching his exposed torso and sinewy forearms for what ended up being a very long, awkward and speechless moment.
He let his legs fall, righting himself once more, and again the group clapped. He looked over at her expectantly, bronze eyes issuing a challenge. She snapped back to attention and resumed her scowl.
“Of course I can. I’ve done lots of strength and stretching exercises. I’m very flexible,” she seethed, practically snarling the words at him before hoisting herself up on her hands and holding a steady handstand to rival his.
She realized belatedly that gravity would take its consequence on her clothing as it had on Zuko’s, as her water tribe robe parted and slipped over her head to cover her face, and she knew then—with a feeling in her gut akin to a sinking sea prune—that her leggings and most likely her stomach were bared. It wasn’t such a big deal to expose her bare skin in such a way to Aang, and to her brother, and to other members of the group; but to do it in front of the haughty Fire Prince was humiliating. To make it worse, the group’s reaction to her handstand was dead silence. The only sound was that of Aang’s slightly embarrassed cough.
Katara flipped her legs back down and righted herself again, trying desperately and futilely to hide the pink that had risen in her cheeks. Zuko was watching her as he had before, she noticed, but now with a glimmer of something she couldn’t quite define in his good gold eye.
_________
From Repentance (NC-17 continuation of "Absolution", Z/K):
The next morning, Katara was aware of the worst feeling of aching soreness she’d ever experienced in her entire life, as she awoke in her own bed after dreaming she’d spent the night in another.
It hurt to stand. It hurt to sit. It hurt to lie down.
She took her time bathing in the warm water of a private bath area adjacent to her room, soaking herself for half an hour—until the water had lost most of its heat—and letting it flow gently over her legs and between her thighs. As the water moved according to her will it took on a slightly hazy gleam, and seemed to shimmer as it moved intimately over her tender flesh, soothing her muscles like a balm.
This was not an injury from a battle…but strangely, it feels that way.
The ambivalence of her own feelings startled her. There was a stab of guilt, of course; she was now no longer pure, as a young maiden, by Water Tribe standards. It had been her responsibility to maintain her virginity until marriage, as was custom. Hakoda would be beyond livid if he found out. Alongside it was the vague taste of regret that slid down her throat, and pooled tightly in her stomach.
Just who is providing penitence here; him or me?
________
From Untitled (extremely-late gift fic for
orepookpook):“…It’s about a day or two’s travel on Appa,” Aang was saying, calmly. His big gray eyes were looking up earnestly at his firebending instructor. “We’re supposed to meet Guru Pahtik there, who I’ve met before. He’s a really nice guy. Really, really loves onion and banana juice…”
Zuko was nodding, but not truly listening to him. His mind felt too preoccupied, too weighted. It was as if his thoughts were laden with lead. He turned his face to see that Aang was looking up at him with a curious mixture of concern and skepticism.
“Are you sure that this is what you want, Zuko?” the monk asked, twisting his hands around the wooden staff he held. “You’ve come so far along this path…I just feel it would be a shame to not have you with us at the end, to help us.”
The Fire Prince kept his expression remote, as he turned to look out at the expanse of ground below them from where they stood on the stone balcony. “I’ve already helped you. I’ve taught you the essentials; you should have no problem honing your firebending skills further. You’ve learned a lot in a short amount of time.” He turned to the boy once more and rewarded him with a small smile. “You’re a smart kid.”
Aang briefly returned the smile. “I mean, you originally said you wanted to help us overthrow Ozai. I thought you were going to stay with us through it, to the end, to face him with us. But…if you want to stay and make certain your mother stays safe…I understand.” He ducked his head. “I’ve never had a mother, so I don’t know what it would feel like to have one…and I certainly can’t imagine how important it would be to have one back, after thinking you’d never see her again.” He met Zuko’s eyes once more. “But I think it’s pretty important to you.”
__________
From Il Bordello (WHR 30_lemons fic. Context: Between episodes 24 and 25, Amon hides Robin at his apartment for a night, and she makes an interesting discovery.):
The tea kettle chose that moment to interrupt her, whistling loudly.
After allowing it to steep appropriately, Robin collected her pot of tea and a small cup—as well as a dish containing more pickled ginger and a dumpling from the fridge—and went back to the living room with her items. She set the pot and the food on the small end table near the couch, and looked determinedly at the widescreen TV and DVD ensemble underneath it. Next to the disc player was a moderately-sized stack of discs in plastic sleeves. She looked at them from across the room for a long moment before she realized what they were; Touko had owned DVDs as well, and had rented or bought them from various places.
A movie, she thought. That will take my mind off of things.
She went to the small cabinet underneath the TV and knelt down, examining the stack of sleeved discs. Most of them were unmarked, without any designation of what sort of movie it was at all, which was not very helpful. But, rummaging through them further, she found some that were labeled. Strangely labeled.
Most of the titles confused her. From Japanese to English, the names translated to things like ‘Nurses Gown Offering’, ‘Loli Wife First Ecstasy Violation’, ‘Splash’, and ‘Super Body Private Teacher’. There was one called Wakamezake, which was read as ‘seaweed sake’—which to Robin, made absolutely no sense. Sake made of seaweed?
There were a couple in English, most with names she didn’t understand either. Lolita. Nymphet. The only one she understood was a French title, L’Amant, ‘The Lover’, also marked ‘unrated director’s cut’. Ah, a romance.
...Amon didn’t really seem like the type who would watch romantic movies, but…
_________
Hehehe. ^^
*goes back to writing*
