sportsanime | Bonus Round 4: Quotes

Entry tags:

Bonus Round 4: Quotes

A shipping olympics favorite, this round uses quotes of all sorts to fuel your creative endeavors.

This round is CLOSED as of 7PM on July 21 EDT. Late fills may be posted, but they will not receive points.

RULES

Submit prompts by commenting to this post with a quote attributed to a specific person or character, along with any ship/ot3/etc. from one of our nominated fandoms.
- Example: "You must be the change you wish to see in the world." - M. Gandhi
- The quote can come from anywhere. Famous people, poetry, songs, books, movies, your neighbor, etc.
- Your prompt MUST include some kind of relationship. (This is not the sports anime gen olympics.) Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Makoto & Rin). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Makoto/Rin). Please don't say "Any pairing," either!
Fill prompts by replying to the prompt with your quote-inspired fanwork.
Remember to follow the general bonus round rules, outlined here.

FORMAT

Bonus round shenanigans all happen in the comments below. Brand-new works only, please.

Required Work Minimums:

400 words (prose)
400px by 400px (art)
14 lines (poetry)

There is no max work cap.

Format your comment in one of the following ways:

If PROMPTING:	If FILLING:	If FILLING as a TEAM GRANDSTAND participant:
PROMPT: TEAM [YOUR SHIP] Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to, including Grandstand or Sports Teams Write it exactly as it appears on the team roster or your team will not receive points Place the prompt's relationship in the first bolded line of the comment. Including the canon isn't required, but it's nice. Below that, place applicable major content tags (when applicable; otherwise write "no tags" or "none") Visual example	FILL: TEAM [YOUR SHIP], [RATING] Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to Write it exactly as it appears on the team roster or your team will not receive points Replace RATING with the rating of your fill (G - E) Place applicable major content tags and word count before your fill (when applicable) NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and use clear tags in your comment. Written/text fills should be hosted at AO3 ONLY as a new, unchaptered work. Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere. You may include a small safe-for-work preview of the fill in your comment. To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" alt="DESCRIPTION OF YOUR IMAGE"/> Visual example	FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, [RATING] Replace RATING with the rating of your fill, G - E, as explained in the rules Place applicable major content tags and word count before the fill, where applicable NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and use clear tags in your comment. Written/text fills should be hosted at AO3 ONLY as a new, unchaptered work. Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere. You may include a small safe-for-work preview of your work in your comment. To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" /> Visual example

Posts not using this format will be understood to be unofficial discussion posts, regardless of what they contain. They, like all comments in this community, are subject to the code of conduct.

SCORING

These numbers apply to your team as a whole, not each individual teammate. Make as many prompts/fills as you want!

For prompts: 5 points each (maximum of 50 prompt points per team per round)

For fills:

First 3 fills by any member of your team: 20 points each
Fills 4-10: 10 points each
Fills 11-20: 5 points each
Fills 21+: 2 points each

All scored content must be created new for this round.

Etc.

If you're hunting through the prompts looking for what to fill, a good trick is to view top-level comments only.

Have a question? Check The FAQ first. If you still need help, feel free to contact the mods. Happy fanworking!

Page 93 of 141

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Aoyagi Hajime &/ Teshima Junta, Yowamushi Pedal
blood

"(509): Currently bleeding through my leggings. Not good. Not good at all.

(406): Hospital.

(509): I am invincible."

- Texts From Last Night

Authority figure of your choice (including but not limited to Daichi) & Hinata/Kagayama or Bokuto/Kuroo (Haikyuu!!)

no tags

"I put the fires out."

"You made them worse!"

"Worse... or better?"

- Invader Zim

Edited 2016-07-13 01:42 (UTC)

Oishi Shuichiro/Kikumaru Eiji (Prince of Tennis)
no major tags

"I am thinking it's a sign
That the freckles in our eyes
Are mirror images and when
We kiss they're perfectly aligned

And I have to speculate
That God himself did make
Us into corresponding shapes
Like puzzle pieces from the clay"

- Such Great Heights The Postal Service

Edited 2016-07-19 01:32 (UTC)

I'm glad you liked it! It was a great prompt and so much fun to write

Ashikiba Takuto/Teshima Junta (ywpd)

no tags

"Always leave before the lights go on.
Before the party ends, before we hit the dawn.
Always leave before tomorrow comes.
All the greatest loves are the unfinished ones.

Goodnight, goodbye.
By the time you turn around, I'll be gone.
I'll be gone."

- Don't Send the Searchlights, Gold Motel

angst... the thing oikawa did isn't specified but i guess right now it reads as cheating. it isn't cheating or some romance drama mistake where suga thinks he cheated but he really didn't. they both know what "it" was and it was immaterial compared to the disintegration of trust. sorry that this is a lot.
word count: 435

Tooru carries his spine upright, but he is curling in on himself, visibly, at the edges. His proud head is bowing, in resignation, his hands are in his pockets (to keep Suga from seeing how they shake and sweat), and his elbows are tucked close to his frame.

"You hate me, don't you." Despite Tooru's visible discomfort his face is remarkably dry. It's cold and composed and even in tone, like marble. Damn him, Suga thinks, how can he not be feeling anything. "I knew you'd hate me, if you found out, so I hid it. It's alright. I can take it. You're under no obligation to stay. No hard feelings." Suga feels a surge of hatred toward him. Of course Tooru can handle it, Suga's seen him- helped him!– work through the exact same process before, after his last breakup. Suga is disgusted that he let himself get sucked into this pattern.

“You’re the worst, Tooru.”
Tooru takes it with the same cold eyes and shallow grin. Suga’s face is hot, tear ducts burning with pressure, and what he wouldn’t give to make Tooru feel the same way.
“You’re malicious. You even admitted that all your exes said it. Why did I believe you when you said it wasn’t your fault? Why did I think we’d be different, anything but the next link in your pattern?”
Tooru’s mask is cracking and Suga relishes the thought of getting to be the one to see beneath it, one last time.
“It was only a matter of time before your malice turned on me”
Tooru’s smile is stretched thin like a rubber band. Even this close to snapping he is taking it with grace.
“The thing that gets me most isn’t even what you did,” I walked you through the aftermath of the last time you did it, after all, I knew what you were capable of, “it’s that you hid it from me, out of spite. Rot in hell, Tooru.”
Suga gets to see his face shatter, as he turns on his heel to leave. Good.
Tooru's eyes bug out. "No, I didn't- wait- I didn't mean it- I wouldn't spi- never- wait!"
He had been so, disgustingly! prepared for the whole encounter, but Suga got to see the real Tooru, one last time.
"Su- Suga-- Koushi!" His voice was shaking, hands were out of his pockets, jittering like they did after too much caffeine.

Less than three minutes after Tooru told Suga "you can go, no hard feelings, I won't ask you to come back," he was begging for Suga to return. He was repulsive.

i dont actually have anything constructive to say but my brain just went "YES" at seeing this

Word Count: 1188 Warnings??? I cussed a lot and got hella angsty. ALSO i'm sorry this probably isn't what you wanted and it's sure as fuck not what I wanted when I started writing this. also i couldn't decide on which way to end it so. i just went neither.
----

When you’re in your mid-twenties, it’s weird, Iwaizumi Hajime thinks. You have this clear sense of who you are, your maturity level, etc. You feel like you’re actually who you’re supposed to be. You also have this strange hindsight on every year before, where you thought you were an adult, you thought you were never going to change, and you see every change that was made, every stupid mistake you made. At least, Iwaizumi does.

He sees the bright colors he wore with light colored jeans his sophomore year of college and wrinkles his nose. He sees the shows he laughed at and obsessed over when he was eighteen and he shudders. He sees the way he roughhoused his friends constantly when he lived with Matsukawa, and cringes a little. There’s all these mistakes he’s made, or just personal choices he made that are different now, and it almost seems like a different person. He wouldn’t change them, however, they made him who he is now, but it’s just. Strange.

It’s stranger noticing how the people you know- the people you love- have changed.

The thought rings in his head distantly as he chews on a noodle, only half-listening to whatever story Oikawa is telling. His boyfriend is making grand gestures with one hand, and he half thinks that maybe at one point Oikawa’s eyes sparkled when he used to tell stories. He thinks that maybe Oikawa’s smile didn’t used to be so thin, brittle. When he thinks of the man he fell in love with years ago, he thinks the picture might be different.

He tries to think of the ways Oikawa has changed.

He thinks of the polo shirts Oikawa wore for a few months when they were nineteen. He thinks of the way Oikawa teased their friends too much, prodding and hitting sensitive points, their freshman year of college. He thinks of Oikawa crying after the last surgery on his knee, sobbing harder still when they told him he could still play volleyball when they were juniors. He thinks of the searing kiss Oikawa gave him when he found out he made the national volleyball team.

He thinks of how they reassured each other when Oikawa left for training camp for a month.

He thinks of how since then, Oikawa seems stretched thin, a shadow of his old self. Like he has some sort of persona he needs to project to the world. He’s always had a persona, sure, but he shed that around Iwaizumi, his Iwa-chan got to see the real thing. It’s like Iwaizumi has been cut off, and pompous, asshole Oikawa is the new constant. It makes Iwaizumi want to scream.

He thinks of the night a week ago when Oikawa denied that Iwaizumi was his boyfriend to some fans.

“Iwa-chan? Earth to Iwa-chan!” Oikawa waves in front of his face with a little laugh.

“Hm?” Iwaizumi jerks his head up, jolted back to reality.

“Ah, it’s alright, I was just telling you about a cute fan that stopped me today.” Oikawa’s smile falters just a little, he thinks.

“Oh, right.”

There’s an awkward silence. It’s the kind of silence that makes the air thick, that suffocates. It’s the kind that makes you second guess everything, that makes your thoughts run like water and your tongue heavy, that makes every syllable seem like it needs to be forced through. You know something is wrong, and it tortures you, but you don’t want to disturb the fragile calm.

But it has to be done.

Oikawa breaks the silence first. “Iwa-chan,” his voice is so quiet, and he won’t meet Iwaizumi’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Iwaizumi’s throat is still closed tight. He chokes out, “You.”

“What?” Oikawa is surprised, eyes wide, hands anxious on the side of the table.

“You, you’re- god, you’re so different now,” He can’t stop now, it comes spilling out. “It’s fucking killing me.”

“What do you mean? I’m- I can change.” Oikawa’s voice is shaking.

“That’s the fucking problem. You’ve changed. I’ve changed.” He stands up from the table, walking to their living room.

Oikawa follows him, touches his shoulder hesitantly. “Iwa-chan, please, explain this to me. I-“

“You’re pompous, arrogant, so fucking full of yourself.”

“I’ve always been like that, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa laughs nervously.

“But it was never real!” He feels his eyes prickling. “It was all a façade, and when we were alone, I got to see underneath it. I got to see you.”

“Iwa-chan…”

“What happened? You left for overseas, for training, and you came back, different. It’s been a gradual change, but it’s been two years now. It’s like you’re a fucking shell, like you don’t know how to be real anymore.” Tears are definitely running down his face. “Who killed Oikawa Tooru?”

“Hajime,” Oikawa’s there, brushing away the tears, voice gentle. “Hajime-“

Iwaizumi pushes his hands away. “You don’t get to call me that. You denied me.”

“Are you still mad about that?” Oikawa smiles, fragile. “Iwa-chan, it didn’t mean anything. It just doesn’t look good to the media if I’m dating someone.”

“I remember when you didn’t care. When you’d hold my hand in public, when you kissed me under the New Year’s fireworks. Where are you, Tooru?”

“I’m here, I’m right here, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa’s crying now. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to- I just. I’m so. I’m so stressed.”

“We’re all fucking stressed, Tooru. We’re adults.” Iwaizumi snaps.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Neither do I.”

They both sit there, quiet, crying for a bit. Iwaizumi on the couch, head in his hands and Oikawa sitting against the wall. Finally, Oikawa speaks, his voice tentative and quiet.

“I’m not dead yet, I think.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t respond, but waits.

“I mean, the real me. I dunno. It’s just, this is easier, I thought. People don’t have to know what’s bothering me, they don’t have to know how sad I am. It’s easier for them.”

“That’s what I’m here for, you fucking idiot.”

“I wanted to stress you out least of all! Besides, why did it take you two years to bring this up?!”

“Like I said, it was gradual at first. I didn’t really notice for a while, then it snuck up all at once. And then, I kept waiting. I kept thinking you’d crack, you’d come back to me. Then I just kinda accepted this as the new constant.” He waves his hand around at ‘this.’ “And sure, you didn’t want to stress me out, but what about you fucking denying me? That has nothing to do with keeping all your shit bottled in.”

“It’s the one thing I can control.” Iwaizumi doesn’t know if Oikawa has ever sounded so small. “All I can control is the way the media sees me. But- if it hurts you, then it isn’t worth it, then I don’t care.”

The silence stretches. Iwaizumi isn’t sure if he believes it, if he believes his Tooru is still in there somewhere. He hopes, god does he hope. But he’s not sure if hope is enough anymore.

He’s not sure which way to change.

tags: non-graphic mention of sex
word count: ~955

note: i may have taken a liberal interpretation of this that is significantly more upbeat than the prompt intended... :3

_____________

It's been a long time since Rin has been to Iwatobi, over a decade, closer to two. He looks out the train window but he can't tell if it looks the same. The train is moving slowly enough as it approaches the station, it's just that it's dark, the moon only a sliver in the sky.

As promised, Makoto is there to meet him at the train station. Rin said he didn't have to and Makoto said he won't every time, but he wanted to this first time; even through the phone Rin had heard his smile, and he's lost too much time denying Makoto's smiles.

Makoto smiles. "Hi."

Rin gets all fluttery inside. He's forty years old and getting all fluttery because a boy—because a man has smiled and said hi to him. At least he's not blushing.

Spoke to soon.

Makoto's lashes sweep down and his smile curves up more when he sees Rin's blush, but he has the grace not to say whatever he's thinking.

They start walking to Makoto's house, which is the house Haru grew up in; after Haru moved to Tokyo, the Nanases put it up for sale and the Tachibanas bought it. Rin is looking forward to seeing it again and wonders if he'll recognize it inside, how much has changed and how much Makoto has kept the same.

But Makoto takes an unexpected turn, only grins when Rin asks where they're going, and it takes Rin a few blocks to figure out they're on their way to the swim club.

Makoto had mentioned going so Rin's not entirely surprised, he just hadn't thought Makoto meant the moment he got there. Or after hours. It's kind of a tradition, though, breaking into Iwatobi Swim Club, so he grins and goes along with it.

They don't have to actually break in, since Makoto is a co-owner now. When Makoto asks if he brought his swimsuit, Rin says, "Of course. I'm not wearing it like Haru probably would be." They both grin. "But yeah." Rin holds up his bag and pats it.

After getting changed, they walk out to the pool. As they're approaching the water, a flash of color catches Rin's eye in the moonlight coming in through the windows, then stops him.

It's not a sight he's never seen before, but as he gazes at the cherry blossom pool he's nonetheless filled with wonder.

"You remembered." He looks over in time to see Makoto nod. They look at each other a moment and maybe it's the way the starlight is reflecting in Makoto's smile but now Rin sees something he hasn't before, and he wonders how he missed it back then: "It was your idea in high school."

"It was everyone's idea," Makoto says, smiling.

Rin is sure now that Makoto is the one who remembered his elementary school dream but if Makoto doesn't want to say anything about it, Rin will respect that.

"Anyhow," Makoto says, "this time there's no chance of rain. You can swim in the cherry blossoms as much as you want." He offers another smile as he rubs the back of his neck. "I guess it's not as good indoors, because there's no sunshine either—"

"No," Rin says, looking at the luminosity of Makoto's smile and allowing himself a fanciful moment to imagine that the moon is actually reflecting the shine of the smile instead of the other way around. "It's perfect."

Makoto's smile curves up more. "Go on, then."

Rin doesn't need to be invited twice: he takes a few measured steps and dives in at the deep end. He comes up, petals clinging to his face and hair, and laughs at their soft touch as he looks around for Makoto.

Even though Makoto put on a legsuit, he's just sitting there, dangling his feet in the water. Rin swims over and hooks his hands over the edge. "Come on in, the water's nice."

"This is for you," Makoto says with a smile; smiles more and comes easily when Rin takes his hand and tugs him in.

They kiss. Treading water, amidst moonlight and cherry blossoms, they kiss, and it's the most clichéd romantic cliché Rin can imagine...

And as the kissing and touching go on and on, water and petals and starlight swirling around them with their movements, it's just the most romantic thing Rin can imagine.

"Makoto," he murmurs in the shallow end where they can stand, wrapped in Makoto's arms, his legs wrapped around Makoto's waist, "fuck me~"

Instead of the breathy or wordless yes Rin is expecting, Makoto pulls back and Rin reads the reluctance on his face as Makoto lets him down to stand on his own.

"Oh, right, yeah," he says before Makoto has to say anything, realizing it: "Because little kids swim here."

Makoto shakes his head. "That's not it—I'll have to drain and clean the pool anyhow after this, because of the cherry blossoms. Just, I want our first time to be perfect..."

Rin can't imagine anything more perfect than this but the way Makoto glances off, like he was looking towards something rather than away from Rin and the pool, Rin thinks Makoto must have something specific in mind. He can hardly wait to find out what it is but yeah, he can wait long enough to enjoy the cherry blossom pool.

They swim some more, make out some more, laugh and talk and splash some more, and finally get out of the pool as the water starts to sparkle with the first light of the sun coming over the horizon, a new day.

Rin latches his pinky finger around Makoto's as they head out, feels Makoto curl around him. The deep breath he takes as they start walking through Iwatobi's sunlit streets fills him, pushing out the regrets he's saved up through the years, making him feel lighter.

Yeah, it's a brand new day.

no tags

god I hate myself I'm so upset
this diverts pretty heavily from canon, fyi

tags: major character death, angst, nightmares, drowning, suicide (fml)
wordcount: 1101 (FML)

The tent was dark, but the boys had a small flashlight to pass around, illuminating whoever spoke. The crash of the surf was audible in the distance, down and away from the raised grass beneath their tent.

In the morning, Rin would be leaving for Australia to go to a special swimming school. Tonight, the winning medley relay team of the Iwatobi Swimming Club shared snacks and stories as the moon rose outside.

“All the men in my family,” said Rin. “Not just my father. My grandmother said there’s a curse on our men.”

“A curse?” Nagisa’s eyes grew wide. Makoto clutched the mouth of his sleeping bag tightly in his fists. Rin’s expression remained somber.

“A curse,” he repeated. “My father, and my father’s father, and my father’s father’s father. The sea took them all.”

Haruka was listening and scowling. He watched Nagisa grow excited and Makoto grow fearful, and he said nothing. It was just a story. Rin was a romantic with a flair for the dramatic. Of course something so common as a fisherman’s death would be spun into a fanciful tale of magic and sorrow under his direction. Haruka rolled his back to the others in his sleeping bag, burrowing in.

“Do you still miss him?” Makoto asked softly, and immediately Haruka felt shame at his dismissal.

Rin had lost his father. He was allowed to make up stories if it made him feel better.

Distantly, the sea snapped and hissed against the breakwater.

***

Haruka was having nightmares again. Tonight, they weren’t about racing, or the end of high school, or losing his way in another dry maze.

He dreamed he was swimming with Rin.

The ocean buoyed them both. Rin carved through the waves, tall and lean, swimming out deep. Keeping pace behind him, Haruka felt the raw freedom he’d always hungered for. Then the bottom dropped out of his euphoria as he realized the water had wrapped hungry tentacles around Rin and was dragging him out, deeper and deeper, pulling him under.

Haruka tried to yell, to make the water stop, but it forced itself into his mouth, his nose, rejecting him, rejecting him, dragging at him and tossing him and finally regurgitating him onto the rough sand.

Please, Haruka thought blindly, fighting for air, begging the sea, please, give him back.

The sea was placid and flat.

Rin was gone.

***

Haruka tossed a handful of coins. He rattled the bell, clapped his hands, bowed. Head inclined, eyes closed, he prayed:

Let Rin finish the race and come back to me.

He remained still for a long moment, breathing slowly.

Then he straightened up, clapped his hands again, and moved away from the shrine to allow others forward to pray. He approached the handrail by the steep downward slope that angled away from this mountainside shrine to Susa-no-wo.

Distantly, the Tsugaru Strait glittered benignly under the bright sunlight, swaddling Hokkaido, separating it from the island Haruka had always called home. Rin would be swimming the marathon across it in the morning.

Haruka glared down at the water.

You can’t have him, he thought bitterly.

The sea shimmered. We’ll see about that.

***

Five hours in, the sky grows dark.

“I can’t make sense of it,” the old fisherman apologizes, steering his boat through the wind waves that have begun to chop the surface of the strait. “The skies were clear, the forecast said we’d have blue skies through the weekend.”

Distantly, Haruka can see Rin fighting the current and the rising swell. The grease that the open-water marathon swimmers use to coat themselves before their journeys has mostly worn off, and Rin’s arms plunge unprotected into the raw salt of the surf over and over. Haruka looks at the sky. It’s getting worse.

“Grandfather,” he says to their guide, not unkindly, “how far is it?”

The old man squints. “The current is picking up. At this rate, another two hours, at least.”

Haruka shakes his head. The sky is threatening rain. Rin’s coach is not here today, which makes it Haruka’s call to end the swim early. Rin won’t like it. Rin never wants to give up, especially this far into a swim. Haruka’s fingertips are white with pressure where they grip his elbows. Thunder rattles in the distance.

“Go,” says Haruka, “get him out now.”

The fishing boat chugs towards Rin, gaining on his struggling form, when a plunging storm wave takes him and he’s dragged below.

Haruka throws off his windsuit and is in the water in a heartbeat.

***

You’re too late, child.

I’m not. Give him back.

Haruka strokes furiously through the surging dark water, reaching out with all of his senses to find Rin.

You can’t help him. The current tugs at Haruka, and he leans into it, takes its momentum to propel him further down. He was mine from the day he was born.

He never was.

Oh?

No. Haruka catches a minute change in temperature, a flash of warmth, and in a trice he’s shot in its direction. His lungs burn, his eyes burn, his skin burns, but his fingers close around Rin’s wrist, Rin, Rin who is still struggling weakly, alive, alive, and he rockets them both up to the surface.

This is my love and you cannot have him.

They break the surface and Haruka sucks in a breath. Rin coughs, vomiting out seawater. The sky has opened. The air is half water.

The water wants Rin back.

You cannot have him. Haruka struggles, treading water, carrying Rin as dead weight in the intensifying storm.

Foolish child.

Haruka almost panics when something brushes his ankle, but then the boat is close, and a ring preserver flies towards him. He grabs for it desperately, throws Rin over it, uses it to help the fisherman haul them both back to the boat.

Haruka feels the brush on his foot again and something like a dreading comprehension begins to dawn.

Debts must be paid, child. What are you offering in his place?

Haruka understands at last. He sighs out a long, shuddering breath, and the water accepts it.

The fisherman is pulling Rin’s weakened body up onto the deck. Rin continues to retch; seawater foams out of him.

“Rin,” Haruka calls, and for one moment of lucidity Rin comes out of his marathon haze and locks eyes with him. “I -”

The sea collects its payment, and everything goes dark.

I really love all the sensory details in this! The prose has so much texture and earthiness to it (pun unavoidable).

Oh, this is truly lovely <3 Your prose is so evocative!

Kominato Ryousuke / Fuji Shūsuke, Daiya no Ace & Prince of Tennis
Tags: body horror

I like my women like I like my coffee: COVERED IN BEES!
--Eddie Izzard

lays in wait, patiently with bait

bless for you this prompt and I hope it baits as intended (two thumbs up)

Kikumaru Eiji/Oishi Shuuichirou OR Hazuki Nagisa/Ryugazaki Rei Prince of Tennis, Free!
sexual content

"Stuck in a limbo, half hypnotized
Each time I let you stay the night, stay the night
Up in the morning, tangled in sheets
We play the moment on repeat, on repeat

When you're standing there in your underwear
And my T-shirt from the night before
With your messed up hair and your feet still bare
Would you mind closing the bedroom door?

Baby you don't have to rush
You can leave a toothbrush at my place, at my place
We don't need to keep it hush
You can leave a toothbrush at my place, at my place
'Cause I just, I just can't let you go
Give me something I never know
So baby you don't have to rush
You can leave a toothbrush at my place, at my place"

- DNCE, "Toothbrush"

prayer hands emoji

Edited 2016-07-13 04:03 (UTC)

Tags: Just a little blood, mob/crime au
Word count: 455

There was only one man in the organization Kazuya would always whole-heartedly trust, and he didn't even have a face to place with the name.

A simple ‘Chris’ the only name he was ever given, whether a handle or real he couldn't even begin to guess, but the one that had brought him to his knees and saved him in the same regard just as many times over.

This time found Kazuya praying to the flickering static that his connection wasn't dead, that the one solid, constant, soothing voice wasn't lost forever; trickles of blood running between his fingers as the world began to get a little blurry at the edges.

“Ka-K-Kazuya! Are you still with me?”

Thank god and whatever else might be out there. “I’m still here Chris.” Barely.

“Good, then stay with me. I'll be there shortly.” Kazuya’s thought briefly startled by the appearance of one particular word in the last sentence.

“You mean they’ll be here shortly,” Waiting on the normal extraction crew in tight situations to show up and save the day. Kazuya far more familiar with the procedures than he would care to admit.

“No, I mean exactly what I said,” Kazuya’s blood running cold at Chris’ serious tone.

If that's the case… I am so screwed. Curling up into the tightest ball to clutch at his side staining even darker. Knowing Chris could locate him with the tracker on his person, but wondering if he had enough time, and just what it meant for him to be the last man standing.

Time seemed to pass in blurs before Kazuya felt his shoulder shaken in a frenzied effort. A familiar deep voice that he was hearing for the first time up close; vision fading to black as the blood loss finally dealt its toll.

Kazuya waking up in a standard white-washed hospital room, the beeping and buzzing of monitors reminding him just how close he had come to knocking at the final door; a shifting weight distracting him at one side of the bed.

A face he had never seen before but fitting the smooth voice so perfectly filling his vision, strained with hints of lack of sleep and nourishment biting at the edges of eyes and lips.

“Pleasure to finally meet you Chris, even if in the worst of circumstances when you can't even trust your own team.” Kazuya somehow managed to mumble out.

A smile gently curving against a handsome face, and Kazuya knew he was done for instantly. Willing to sacrifice anything and everything for the man who had already shown him the same.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance Miyuki Kazuya.”

A strong and steady hand grasping Kazuya’s own with one promise- to never let go.

nsfw

887 words

fill here

a/n: two tags out of three since i can't do full-on hentai...

Hunger Games/Catching Fire au, mentions of violence, death, and blood/injuries
1761 words

i'm literally so sorry for this i saw this quote and the first thing i thought of was them acting differently public vs private in a thg au and now here we are r i p

Miyuki wins the Games when he's only twelve. It's probably the last thing anyone--let alone the Capitol--expected. A small, scrawny kid from Twelve, unfortunate enough to get reaped his first year in. But he's smart, capitalizing on the fear and desire not to die in an arena like this, entertainment for everyone watching. Miyuki used what he could to outsmart the other tributes, to beat them all out. To win.

People were in awe--still are--of the twelve year old no one thought could win it all, yet ended up being one of that year's strongest and smartest tributes.

Miyuki's only seventeen when he meets Furuya Satoru, one of District Twelve's tributes that he'll be mentoring that year.

He never really expects much out of the tributes from Twelve. No one from here has won since Miyuki did five years ago. And it's pointless to get attached to faces that'll be lifeless in a few days time, anyway. He's taught himself that very quickly.

Furuya's something entirely different. Someone who proves everything Miyuki thought he knew wrong. It's almost ridiculous. Here's someone--so quiet and non-threatening looking at first glance--who pulls a ten on his training score. Who can aim and throw knives unlike anything Miyuki's ever seen before.

Here's someone who has a real chance at winning, at making it out alive. With a little guidance, maybe, it's definitely a possibility.

Furuya's lethal in the Games. And he catches everyone's attention.

He's a monster, Miyuki hears some of them talk as the Games go on. He's incredible. Twelve hasn't had a tribute like this since--

Furuya's not perfect, of course. He gets himself into stupid situations a few times, gets a few injuries. Miyuki has to use money from sponsors to send him medicine a few times, or supplies and weapons after Furuya's broken them in the arena, and each time he sends notes attached with comments or advice or criticisms, hoping it will help Furuya forward, closer to victory.

In the end, no one's surprised when Furuya's crowned the victor that year. The most promising tribute wins and District Twelve has another victor. No longer just Miyuki.

.

"Miyuki-senpai?"

He rolls over in his bed when he hears Furuya's voice, soft and quiet, and frowns when he sees him standing in the doorway, like he's uncertain of himself. "Furuya? Something wrong?"

Furuya's silent for a moment, looks like he doesn't know where to begin. "I..."

For a brief moment, Miyuki thinks that no one would expect Furuya to be like this after watching the Games--quiet, thoughtful, tentative, gentle. They've never really seen this side of him--probably don't care to--because all those people want to see are fighters who make the game before them more entertaining. They don't care about the real people behind those masks.

Not many people do.

Miyuki's one of the few who has gotten to know Furuya in a personal context like this, who has gotten to see the real him. Melted down version than the battle-ready prodigy, District Twelve's newest victor.

"Nightmare?" Miyuki asks because he's familiar with those too, still has them even five years after he'd been in the Games. They're not as bad as they had been right after he first won, but they're still terrifying all the same. Impossible to forget.

Furuya nods, and Miyuki beckons him over to his bed, lets him climb in beside him. There's plenty of room for the both of them, and by now he knows that it's better when you're not alone, when there's someone who understands.

"How long?" he asks, laying back down, his eyes on Furuya laying on the pillow next to him.

"Since the Games ended."

"Yeah..." That was months ago. They're on Furuya's victory tour now. "Yeah, that happens."

"Did I wake you up?"

"No." He nudges Furuya's shoulder, gentle, lets his hand rest on his arm. "Don't worry about that."

"Alright..."

"Your toes are cold," Miyuki mumbles after a few moments of silence between them, a few moments of just laying here face to face, close but not close enough.

"Sorry." There's a shift in the bed, and it feels like Furuya is going to pull away. They've never done this before.

Furuya's pulse beats rapid under Miyuki's fingertips when he reaches out a hand to keep Furuya in place, to keep him here. He doesn't know if it's because of the dream he'd had a minutes ago, or if it's this proximity, trying something new.

"You don't have to leave."

Furuya doesn't say anything at first, but he does stay, and they've moved, lay a little closer together now. "Okay."

.

("Does it ever stop?" Furuya whispers, much later, against Miyuki's hair, one night when he'd migrated from his own room to Miyuki's, crawled into his bed and settled there like they've been doing since that first night. Just a lot closer than before.

"I'll let you know when I find out," Miyuki mumbles, his lips pressed against Furuya's collarbone, his hand rubbing gentle circles on his side.)

.

Even though he tells himself it'd be easier not to want this, it'd be easier not to chase after it, Miyuki finds it difficult to keep whatever this relationship is between him and Furuya from becoming more than that.

First, it'd started out strictly as two people who understood each other, who survived similar circumstances and are struggling to live through the aftermath now. Then he'd let Furuya sleep in his bed a few times--which became a welcomed and frequent habit very quickly--and even after the victory tour was over, sometimes Furuya would ask if he could spend the night at Miyuki's place back in Twelve or ask if Miyuki'd stay with him. (Miyuki'd make a show of thinking about it, but almost always would agree in the end.)

He could feel his guard weakening around Furuya over time. Could feel barriers he had wanted to keep up disappearing until they no longer existed anymore, melted away.

And then, things really had changed, lines that had existed prior to this had blurred. They'd shared things about each other that no one else knew--whispered secrets to each other in the dead of the night when they'b both lie awake, staring at the ceiling. Then, Furuya had cupped Miyuki's cheek one night after they had dinner together and Miyuki walked him home--just a short walk to the house next door to his in the victors' village--and pulled him into a quick, but gentle kiss under the moonlight.

"Thank you for everything, Miyuki-senpai."

Miyuki didn't respond, then, only pulled Furuya in again, kissed him harder that time, his fingers twisted tightly in Furuya's hair. His answer. He didn't want to let this go.

But, like most things here, happiness and safety doesn't ever seem to be completely obtainable. Not without a million obstacles in the way first.

When the next Quarter Quell's announcement comes along, they're sitting in front of the television on Miyuki's couch (which has practically become Furuya's too, since they all but officially live together), Furuya's head in his lap and Miyuki's hand running through his hair, waiting to hear what they'll be sent to the Capitol to mentor unfortunate tributes through this time.

"This year's tributes will be reaped from each district's already existing pool of victors."

That. That's the last thing either of them were expecting. Furuya sits upright as soon at the announcement is made, and Miyuki sits frozen, staring at the screen, hands curled tightly in his lap. There's no way. This has to be--

"We're going back?" Furuya mumbles, then repeats it, like he can't believe it. "We're going back."

He hasn't seen a look of fear like this on Furuya's face since the nightmares were at their worst a few years ago. But now it's back, after all this time and the false hope that they were free--

"We'll figure it out," Miyuki finally forces himself to say, when Furuya's hand finds his again later that night. I won't let you die.

So they put on their armor, relive a past as fighters and lethal weapons all over again. If they want to win, they'll have to take it up again. If they want to stand a chance at making it out alive, they'll have to come out just as strong as they did before.

District Twelve's incredible victors, ready to fight, ready to win.

.

"You're bleeding," Miyuki says quiet, reaching up to wipe the blood from Furuya's cheek with the sleeve of his jacket.

They ran into a few other tributes in the forest, had to fight them off, came out of it with a few scratches, but victorious. They're strong. They have to win. Will win.

He doesn't relax completely--can't when they're here and being on guard is necessary if they want to find some way of surviving this--but with Furuya it's easier. In this moment, a tiny sliver of solace, a brief escape from everything surrounding them, it's okay. Welcomed.

As Miyuki lowers his hand from Furuya's face, Furuya catches it in his own, curls their fingers together. "Miyuki-senpai?"

"Yeah?" He simultaneously hates and loves when Furuya looks at him like this--soft, with complete trust. Love. It scares Miyuki when he's reminded that he has this--something he can lose, something that could be taken away in an instant--but he also wants it, needs this. They're the same and they have each other, and there's comfort in that. Always has been.

He knows he'd fight for this. Until his last breath.

"I love you." Furuya says it quiet, not necessarily uncertain because he's said this to Miyuki before when they've been alone, but it's never been quite like this. Where they've been shoved into an arena together rather than alone and with nothing, forced to fight for what they've gained since their initial victories.

He still hates that this look, this intimate moment and gesture and words--meant for private spaces consisting of just himself and Furuya--have to be seen in a very not private space, on a camera for everyone watching the Games to see. For those people, all they're supposed to be is fighters not lovers, not real people. That's all he ever wants to be to them, who view their lives as nothing.

But that doesn't mean he won't take this, won't take all he can while he still has it. While they still have each other.

"Yeah." He smiles when Furuya presses a kiss to his knuckles, Miyuki's other hand resting on Furuya's thigh. He squeezes it gently. "Me too."

Kageyama Tobio/Sugawara Koushi OR Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, Haikyuu!
no tags

"My heart was shoved
In a little crack in my crammed bags
Unfolding it, I re-read it

My dreams too were shoved
In a little crack in my crammed bags
Unfolding them, I re-read them

Infinite?
I trembled

After all
this is finite"

-- "Mugen Glider" by Asian Kung Fu Generation

thank you very much; i'm just really happy you liked it!!!! :D

Matsuoka Rin/Nanase Haruka, Free! OR Aomine Daiki/Kise Ryouta, Kuroko no Basuke
no tags

"I thought, I saw a man brought to life
He was warm, he came around and he was dignified
He showed me what it was to cry

Well, you couldn't be that man I adored
You don't seem to know
Seem to care what your heart is for
But I don't know him anymore"

-- "Torn" by Natalie Imbruglia

oh, thanks so much! the prompt read to me a lot like motion, constant if inconsistent in speed (and unknown where the motion leads to, if that makes sense?) which i wanted to capture in a kind of quiet moment with these two... the idea of chris and zaizen finding a place to be rests close to the heart : ))

no major content warnings

dump miyuki and date jared

Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma (Haikyuu!!)
no tags

a real sign in Laurelhurst Park

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Page 93 of 141

Bonus Round 4: Quotes

Prompt: Team Grandstand

PROMPT: Team Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

PROMPT: Team Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei

Re: FILL: Team Grandstand, PG

Prompt: Team Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou

FILL: Team Kanzaki Miki/Tachibana Aya, T

Re: FILL: Team Aldini Takumi/Yukihira Souma,G

FILL: TEAM KYOUTANI KENTAROU/YAHABA SHIGERU, T

Fill: Team Tachibana Makoto/Yamazaki Sousuke, T

Fill: Team Grandstand, G

FILL: Team Matsuoka Rin/Nanase Haruka, G

Re: FILL: TEAM KOZUME KENMA/KUROO TETSUROU, T

Re: FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, T

PROMPT: Team Chihayafuru

Re: PROMPT: TEAM GRANDSTAND

PROMPT: TEAM TENNIS NO OUJI-SAMA

FILL: Team MIYUKI KAZUYA/SAWAMURA EIJUN, T

FILL: Team Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, E

FILL: TEAM KURAMOCHI YOUICHI/MIYUKI KAZUYA, T

Prompt: Team Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru

Re: FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, T

Prompt: Team Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru

Re: FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, G

FILL: Team Kanzaki Miki/Tachibana Aya, G

PROMPT: TEAM MATSUOKA RIN/NANASE HARUKA