sportsanime | Bonus Round 5: Myth & Lore

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Bonus Round 5: Myth & Lore

Summer's a time for swapping stories around the campfire. With that in mind, this round draws inspiration from the stories humanity have told each other over the centuries.

This round is CLOSED as of 7PM on August 4 EDT. Late fills may be posted, but they will not receive points.

RULES

This round does not have prompts. Instead, we ask you to draw inspiration from the wide pool of mythology, fantasy, folklore, and fable. An urban fantasy or supernatural AU? A re-imagining of your favorite folk tale? Characters swapping ghost stories or playing D&D? As long as your fill in some way incorporates the fantastical and/or supernatural, it's welcome here.
Your fill still has to be about a ship from one of our nominated fandoms. What ships you create work for is up to you, though.
To submit your fill, simply leave it as a comment as a reply to this post.
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.

Remember, this is a NO-PROMPT round. Format your fill comment in one of the following ways:

If FILLING:

If FILLING as a TEAM GRANDSTAND participant:

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 (without brackets) 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)
If no major content tags are applicable, make sure to state this-- even if including other additional tags
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
If no major content tags are applicable, make sure to state this-- even if including other additional tags
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 fills as you want!

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!

Threaded | Flat

Himuro Tatsuya/Murasakibara Atsushi; Kuroko no Basuke
no tags; sky pirates, but with dragons
word count: 630

Himuro Tatsuya has his future all worked out.

He's going to make it as the captain of a dragon crew one day. He's from a rich family and a good upbringing, he's served on plenty of dragon crews so far in his young life, and Captain Garcia seems to have taken a particular shine to him, and it doesn't matter that she's just as fond of Taiga too, because Tatsuya is confident that if she has to choose between the two of them, she'll choose him.

He's going to become of the dragon captains of legend, spreading order across the skies, famous for how well he understands dragons. He'll get a powerful dragon of his own, perhaps even a fire-breather if he's lucky, and everything else in his life will click into place afterwards.

That changes from the very first moment he sees the Yosen pirates on the horizon.

The thing about pirate dragons is that they don't follow the rules. There are regulations in place for dragon breeding, but pirates don't care about creating hybrids. Most of them fail, but sometimes they turn out like this; a large, imposing dragon that has scales so thick that it might as well be wearing impenetrable armour. Tatsuya has only hear of Aegis in tales from retired dragon crew members who have fallen from the sky, speaking of how it's impossible to stop, and how the dragon herself isn't even half as terrifying as her crew.

"Masako," Alex growls out, and it fills Tatsuya with enough curiosity that he's distracted for a moment.

One moment is all it takes.

"We're taking this one," the pirate captain announces, and Tatsuya is snatched up by Aegis's foreleg before he even realises what's happening.

"Tatsuya!" Alex cries out, echoed by Taiga, but Aegis flaps her wings, leaving Angeles and his crew far behind.

"Let go of me!" Tatsuya yells, struggling against the dragon's grip.

"You don't mean that," a bored voice tells him, and Tatsuya stops struggling to see the boy, roughly his age, clipped onto Aegis' rigging, hanging off her underbelly rather than being on her back with the rest of the crew. "It's a pretty long drop if she does let go of you."

Tatsuya frowns, so full of questions that he doesn't even know where to begin.

"It's more comfortable here," the boy tells him, before Tatsuya can even ask. "It's hard to eat when you're standing on Aegis' back. The wind just blows all my snacks away."

"Snacks?" Tatsuya asks, and frowns in confusion as the boy holds up an entire bag of packaged sweets. "Why are you eating snacks in the middle of a pirate raid? Speaking of, let me go."

"We've been over this," the boy tells him, gesturing at the clouds beneath them. "You'll probably die. You're here until Aegis lands and Masa-chin decides what she wants to do with you. You better not cause a huge fuss, or she'll just decide that it's easier to feed you to Aegis."

Tatsuya pales. "Has that happened before?"

"Once or twice," is the reply. "Only for really annoying people, though. Masa-chin has more patience than I do for that, though."

Tatsuya takes a moment to properly take in the boy comfortably nestled in Aegis' rigging. Even though the dragon is big enough to dwarf anyone, he still looks big. Tatsuya wonders just how tall he is. His eyes are the same violet as his hair, and it looks better on him than Tatsuya would expect of anyone. Tatsuya clears his throat quietly, looking away.

"And who are you?"

"Murasakibara," the boy says, waving a handful of snacks in greeting. "I'd share my snacks with you while we wait to land, except I don't really want to."

"Oh," Tatsuya sighs. "Great."

No Tags, Bokuto Koutarou/Akaashi Keiji, Haikyuu

"With the power of love or something or rather, we will defeat you"

Bokuto Koutarou/Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou, Haikyuu!!
Tags: None
Little Red Riding Hood AU
Word count: 1594 words

Once upon a time, there was a boy. His name was Keiji, but his mother made him wear a red cloak so that he wouldn’t get lost in the woods, and soon, people just started calling him by his surname, Akaashi. Akaashi was loved by everyone in his village; he was kind, selfless, and always knew how to make other people feel better.

Over the years, Akaashi grew into a handsome young man and started to help out around the village, sending food to the elderly and keeping them company.

“Your grandmother isn’t feeling too well,” his mother told him as she gave him a basket of all sorts of sweets to take to her. Inside the basket, there were some homemade Baumkuchen and Castella, as well as various fruits picked out from their garden. It looked delicious. Akaashi’s mother also gave him a flask of hot, steaming tea. “Take these to Obaachan, and don’t forget your cloak!”

Akaashi took the basket, fastened his crimson cloak around him, and walked through the woods, taking his time. He found some beautiful flowers along the way and decided to make a small bouquet for Obaachan; daisies and poppies were her favourite. Obaachan said that red was her favourite colour, because it reminded her of Akaashi.

The afternoon sun was starting to set when Akaashi heard a rustle in the bushes behind him. He turned around, but no one was there.

“That’s weird,” muttered Akaashi to himself. He continued to walk a little more cautiously, but he heard the same noise behind him again. When he turned around, he saw someone - no, something standing behind a tree, eyeing him. A large wolf leapt forward, his eyes glinting maliciously under the sunlight.

“Hello,” the Wolf said, baring his teeth. He looked at Akaashi with hungry eyes and then glanced at the basket in his hands. “Are you lost, love?”

“No; I’m quite fine, thank you,” Akaashi replied. His hand instinctively went to the knife he carried in his pocket.

“Where are you headed?” asked the Wolf, his eyes still on Akaashi’s basket.

“North,” lied Akaashi. He was heading West, but he wasn’t about to tell the Wolf that.

“Hmm,” nodded the Wolf. “I must say, though, the Castella smells amazing,” he glanced up at Akaashi again.

Keen to get away from the Wolf, Akaashi was struck with a sudden idea.

“Would you like a piece?” asked Akaashi, lifting up the lid of the basket. The fresh scent seemed too tempting for the Wolf, who nodded and took a slice of the sponge cake.

“Thanks,” smiled the Wolf, his teeth still flashing threateningly. “I’m Kuroo, by the way.”

Akaashi, knowing better than to trust Kuroo, merely ignored him and kept walking.

“I’d be careful if I were you. There’s been a trickster out lately …” Kuroo called out to Akaashi, but Akaashi had already started to walk off towards his grandmother’s house. He didn’t want Kuroo the Wolf to waste his time any more. “Wait!” Kuroo let out a strangled cry in a final attempt to stop Akaashi.

Feeling sorry him, Akaashi turned around. Kuroo looked at him with pleading eyes - or as pleadingly as a wolf could possibly look, he supposed - and crept forward. Still keeping his hand on the dagger he carried around, Akaashi stared back at the Wolf. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but Akaashi thought that Kuroo’s eyes looked almost human for the briefest moment.

“I’m … I need help …” Kuroo whispered, glancing around Akaashi. “What’s your name?”
Akaashi checked his watch; the sun was starting to set and he really wanted to get to his grandmother’s house before dark. He pursed his lips. “I’m Akaashi,” he said quickly.

Kuroo looked relieved at knowing Akaashi’s name. “Akaashi,” he repeated in a soft voice. “You probably won’t believe me, but that’s okay. I just have to try …” Kuroo sounded as though he was talking more to himself than Akaashi, but he continued anyway. “You see … I’m not actually a wolf,” murmured Kuroo.

Akaashi almost laughed - he had read enough books and seen enough films in his life to figure out that there was a high chance that Kuroo was lying through his pointy teeth.
“Kuroo … I don’t have time for this,” Akaashi told the Wolf honestly. “I have to go to my grandmother’s …”

“Akaashi, please …” begged Kuroo. “All I need is to ki - ,”

“No,” Akaashi snapped. There was no way in hell he was going to kiss a wolf, for crying out loud! Without another word from Kuroo, he stormed off to his grandmother’s house, feeling annoyed that Kuroo had wasted all his time. It was getting darker now, so Akaashi picked up his pace until he found, some ten minutes later, his grandmother’s house lighting up in the darkness of the woods.

Akaashi ran to the front door, excited to see his grandmother. When he walked inside, however, he knew immediately that something was wrong.

Obaachan was nowhere to be found; her bed was empty and there was no note.

“Obaachan?” Akaashi called through the house, looking through the kitchen and bathroom, but she wasn’t there. He felt sick to his stomach; had Kuroo by any chance gotten to the house earlier and eaten her?!

Akaashi did the only sensible thing he could do at that point; he called the huntsman and a good friend, Bokutou Koutarou.

“Hi, Bokuto-san. It’s Akaashi. I have a problem here, my grandmother’s missing, she …”

The front door banged open and Kuroo stood, panting at the door. “Quick! Akaashi, your grandmother, she got taken away by the trickster, I think,” Kuroo explained in hushed tones, pointing to the hill just beyond Obaachan’s house.

“Did I hear ‘trickster’?” Bokuto asked on the phone.

“Oh, yes. Uh, someone’s just informed me that Obaachan’s been taken away by the trickster. Do you happen to know who he is?” Akaashi didn’t want to sound too panicked; he left the house and followed Kuroo, not caring if it was a trap. He needed to find his grandmother.

“Her name,” Bokuto corrected him, “is Shimizu Kiyoko. She’s the fairy who lives in the forest and lures unsuspecting people into her garden and then … well … I’ll come help you!” Bokuto hung up the phone.

Akaashi could feel his heart racing as he ran behind Kuroo. He was scared, but Obaachan must have felt even more frightened! He felt a pair of strong hands pat his back and he turned to see a friendly face.

“Bokuto-san!” Akaashi had never been so relieved to see the huntsman.

“Let’s go get Obaachan back!” cried Bokuto, charging ahead. “Wait, who are you?!” Bokuto turned to Kuroo who was running alongside them.

“I’m Kuroo, the Big, Bad Wolf, apparently,” there was a hint of bitterness in Kuroo’s tone. “Shimizu-san, the trickster, she cast a spell on me … she told me that I suited being a wolf because I was better off alone. I can’t change to my human form unless I do some ridiculous self-sacrificing act or someone kisses me,” he sighed.

Suddenly, they pulled up near the edge of a glittering garden. It glowed in the dark, with mysterious plants and flowers shimmering under the moonlight. Akaashi made to go forth and find Obaachan, but Bokuto, however, stopped and turned to face Kuroo.

“That’s it? You just need a kiss to go back to being human?” Without another word, Bokuto leaned in and kissed Kuroo, much to Akaashi’s - and apparently Kuroo’s - surprise. Kuroo yelped and leapt back, but he was transfiguring before their eyes. In less than ten seconds, a tall, handsome man was gazing back at Bokuto with twinkling eyes.

“Th-thank you,” Kuroo murmured, touching his own face and observing his hands under the stars.

Akaashi felt extremely guilty. He should’ve trusted Kuroo, he could’ve kissed him, and yet …

“I’m sorry, Kuroo,” Akaashi looked at Kuroo, who shrugged, smiling.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I would’ve done the same, probably,” Kuroo told him, patting him on the back. “Now let’s go save your grandmother,” he said, and the three of them walked through the garden to the large treehouse that glittered with fairy lights.

With Bokuto’s fighting skills, Kuroo’s strength, and Akaashi’s speed, the three of them managed to successfully save Obaachan, and escaped from Shimizu-san. She didn’t seem too upset that they took Obaachan away; on the contrary, she smiled at them and told them that she was impressed with their teamwork.

Finally, Bokuto, Kuroo, and Akaashi made it back to Obaachan’s cottage and they sat by the fireplace, eating the sweets that Akaashi’s mother had made earlier that day. Later that evening, they put Obaachan to bed, and the three of them sat outside in the garden, looking up at the night sky.

“Thank you for saving me, Bokuto,” Kuroo said, placing his hand in Bokuto’s open palm. “And thank you, Akaashi, for giving me a chance to help you.”

“Thank you for helping me save my grandmother; both of you,” whispered Akaashi, holding Bokuto’s other hand, who sat in between them.

Bokuto didn’t say anything but spluttered, embarrassed. There was a comfortable silence that followed as the three of them held hands and gazed up at the stars together.

“That one kinda looks like three lovers holding onto each other,” Bokuto gestured up at the constellation above them, not letting go of Akaashi’s hand as he pointed to the sky. “And that one,” he lifted the hand that held Kuroo’s, “looks like an infinity symbol.”

Himuro Tatsuya/Murasakibara Atsushi; Kuroko no Basuke
sexual content, gore, cannibalism, blood, bodily fluids; cannibal demons au
word count: 1104

There's blood smeared across Atsushi's face, but it isn't quite enough.

illness

691 words

makoharu (Free!), HP AU where Haru is a half-merman and gets sick.

--

“Haru?” Makoto calls from the entrance to their common room.

Haru opens his eyes in time to see Makoto maneuver inside, balancing a covered bowl of soup in one hand and with what looks to be a thermos tucked under his other arm.

“Oh, good, you’re still here.” Makoto sets the items on the coffee table before flopping down on the floor himself, leaning against the sofa where Haru is laid up. “I half expected you to try sneaking back to the lake.”

Haru looks away and pulls the blanket further up his face.

“No. I wasn’t going to do that.”

Makoto laughs.

“You’re a terrible liar, Haru-chan~”

Haru grouses at him to drop the -chan, as usual, not admitting that Makoto was right - a few more minutes and Haru might have given in to the temptation to go swim in the lake again, even though swimming in the lake is what landed him in this mess in the first place. He at least wishes he was in a bathtub and not laying here, even though the roaring fire in the fireplace is hot and toasty.

“Really, though, it’s not like we’re home in Iwatobi. And even then we can’t swim in the sea in the fall. It’s even colder here! No wonder you got sick. You have to rest up. The giant squid will still be there once you’re well.”

“I don’t swim in the lake because of the giant squid…”

“I know, but you two are friends, right?”

Haru mumbles something like a maybe. He’d swam around in the icy cold depths for about an hour the day before, and while the mermaids who live there are used to the temperature enough to handle it, for Haru, who’s used to warmer waters, it wasn’t exactly the best idea.

“Here you go,” Makoto passes him the thermos. “It’s the second and last dose from Madam Pomfrey. You should be better by tomorrow.”

Haru accepts the thermos and takes a sip of the burning, pungent liquid. He grimaces in disgust, but Makoto levels him with a stern look until he forces the entire drought of liquid down his throat. The horrible taste is worth it, though - he feels less stuffed up in a matter of moments.

“How are your gills?”

Haru pushes down the blanket a little, sniffing wetly. Makoto gets up on his knees, turning around so he can peer at Haru’s neck. He pulls a face. They must look pretty bad, but then Haru didn’t need Makoto’s facial expression to tell him that, he can tell as much from how they’re achy and swollen and oozing with slime.

“Hold on.”

Makoto rummages around in his bag for something, and produces a vial.

“This should help.”

Haru, after meeting Makoto’s reassuring gaze, bares his neck. Makoto wipes away some of the slime with a handkerchief, first, and as gentle as he is having the delicate tissue touched directly like this is almost overwhelming - intensely ticklish and threatening pain without quite getting there, like tugging at a scab that’s not ready to fall from the skin.

“Sorry,” Makoto mumbles, probably in response to Haru’s face going tight. He finishes up, then drips sone of the liquid from the vial into Haru’s gills. They instantly feel clearer, less irritated.

“Something else from Madam Pomfrey?” Haru asks as Makoto puts the bottle away.

“No, I made that one myself.”

Haru knew that Makoto was particularly gifted when it came to herbology, but he didn’t realize he was quite that gifted, nor that he knew so much about the anatomies of half-mermaids. He shoots him a look that’s both impressed and grateful.

Makoto settles in one of the armchairs to read and Haru begins to feel himself drifting off, but catches himself long enough to thank Makoto in a murmur. Makoto replies that it’s nothing, but him staying here while the rest of the school is off at Hogsmeade just to look in on Haru is definitely something, so Haru thanks him again, more emphatically, and this time Makoto just smiles and accepts it.

No tags, Nozomi/Honoka, Love Live

Little Mermaid Au

no major content warnings
Tadokoro Megumi & Inui Hinako

EYYYYYYY GUESS WHICH SHOW I JUST PICKED UP

no major content warnings
Ashikiba Takuto & Kuroda Yukinari

Kiki's delivery service AU complete with a black cat!

Kasamatsu Yukio/Kise Ryouta; Kuroko no Basuke
sexual content, red riding hood elements
word count: 1350

The villagers don't know that Ryouta is responsible for the way the woods grow, that he stretches his influence to their farms, where his trees once stood in an age that has passed so long ago that nobody remembers it but him. Yukio does, but he keeps it to himself when the villagers complain about the resident wolf in the woods. Surely, he thinks, the golden pelt gives Ryouta away, marking him as something more than an ordinary wolf. He can't be the only one who sees it.

Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Haikyuu!
no tags
541 words, dream eater!Oikawa

There’s a boy Hajime only sees in dreams, coming over when he’s asleep and then awake in a world unlike any other because it’s Hajime’s, solely Hajime’s. The boy’s smile is like honey, warm and golden and Hajime wants to cup it, feel how soft his lips might be but this is a dream, this is all just a dream.

(Are you even real?— some part of him longs to ask, wonderingly.)

But that’s not what’s actually asked; instead, it’s: “When did you get here?”

Balloons drift in the sky above them, shades of cotton-candy crawling across the vast sea-blue, as if someone’s dropped their confection into a swimming pool just to watch it float, then, sink. Hajime, the one stuck in reality, would have clicked his tongue and thought what a waste, but this Hajime, who’s now lost in REM, wishes he could remember this sight as clearly after he leaves, not bits and wisps of had-beens.

Dream Boy opens his mouth; one balloon pops, raining gummies. “I’ve always been here, it’s just that you’ve never looked.” His laugh tinkles, reminding Hajime of the windchime he’s hung by his room window and the way it sounds during windy afternoons. “Think of me like a pen you’ve misplaced, only to find it tucked by your ear, or in your grasp the whole time.”

Hajime lets the quiet mull around them as he thinks about what has been said; quirking an eyebrow, he sighs and finally concludes, “You’ve been sneaking in and out of my mind, haven’t you? At least, when I’m asleep, that is. What’s so interesting about me? You visit almost every night nowadays.”

”Ack—!!” The other squawks, letting his eyes widen in what Hajime supposes (dubiously) is admiration. “I’ve been caught in the act! Absolutely red-handed, in public view no less!” That doesn’t sour the grin playing on his lips; it remains Cheshire-bright, just this side of teasing. Butterfly-quick, Hajime wonders if it’ll taste as sweet as it looks if he kisses it off Dream Boy’s face. “Then again, you’ve always been exceedingly sharp sometimes despite that musclehead of yours.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Hajime picks up a clod of green gummy bears and flings it towards the boy; he dodges it with the finesse of one too used to avoiding things his whole life. He grunts, slightly dissatisfied over his miss. “Also, what does that make you then? Some kind of thief?”

“Please,” Dream Boy wrinkles his nose and waves a hand dismissively, “don’t drag my great reputation through the mud just because you’ve never had the pleasure of dabbling in my profession.”

Hajime raises another handful of gummies.

His dream intruder concedes, pouting, huffily clarifying, “Don’t be a ruffian, Iwa-chan, it’s important to respect your regular dream eater!” Pointed gestures towards the sky and everything around them are made. “Otherwise, you won’t be having dreams as wonderful as this!”

“So you’re a glorified housekeeper,” Hajime deadpans, and with a steadily quickening heart, thinks it isn’t so bad at all to see Dream Boy this ruffled every once in a while.

(He wakes up feeling sticky, as if he’s waded through puddles and more puddles of melted gooey gum, and puts it down to karma.)

Edited 2016-08-03 17:39 (UTC)

Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Haikyuu!
no tags, immortality
519 words, immortal!Oikawa

“I can’t really die,” the boy sitting beside Hajime announces with no fanfare whatsoever.

He nearly throws his glass of water at him just for that. To be honest, he’s starting to regret the blind date Matsukawa and Hanamaki had set him up on because:

a) stranger danger
b) he gets random idiots like this
c) he can never stress on the importance of wasting a good Friday night just by himself

Instead, he’s stuck here in this ramen place— Chindoushuu, really— with what could possibly entail as the weirdest exchange of words he’ll ever have with anyone his whole life, excluding his two meddlesome friends, of course. Despite his better misgivings, Hajime throws caution to the wind because you only live once, and time might pass faster if he humours his date anyway. So, he clears his throat and begins to say, “That’s unfortunate to hear about—“

But then he’s cut off; the boy stands and moves to make an exit. He doesn’t even spare a glance at Hajime as he brushes past, and perhaps, it’s the coldness in his eyes, or the way his body gives itself away with every jerky motion, there’s something jaded about him and Hajime can’t think of a reason for why a guy as young as him should act this caged.

(Unless, really, he’s not lying.)

Hajime’s hand shoots out, stopping the boy in his tracks. “You haven’t introduced yourself yet.”

“Didn’t think I’d need to after that.” The boy tries to pull away but Hajime holds on. He sighs; it sounds very tired. “Let me go?”

“Not just yet.” Hajime motions for him to sit down again. “Tell me your name first, then, we can dive into this whole…undying business.” The boy still doesn’t make a move. “…please?”

The boy finally smiles; it’s hesitant, like a sun peeking behind clouds after a rainstorm, but the barest of warmth is still felt. He sits down. “Oikawa Tooru, that’s—that’s my name.”

Hajime takes a sip of his water. “You paused. Not sure of your own name?”

“My bad!” Oikawa laughs, tone light despite the implications behind what he’s just admitted. “It gets harder to remember your own name the longer you live, really.” He gives his order to the cook behind the counter before he resumes speaking. “It’s like being old, except I still look twenty six even after all this time.”

It should be ridiculous how this person has basically confessed to being an immortal but Hajime finds himself believing him anyway; the ennui in Oikawa’s body language tells enough: I’m too tired to hide the truth, too old to be playing hide and seek either.

Hajime feels a bit bad for acting the way he did earlier then. “You probably need someone to remind you every now and then.”

“What? Are you offering?” A cheeky smirk graces Oikawa’s lips; it makes his face light up and eyes twinkle and ah, Hajime’s heart beats hader, he thinks, beauty is such a timeless thing.

Hajime hides his blush by turning to the counter and placing his order as well. “We’ll see.”

Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Haikyuu!
no tags, mentions of future character death, immortality
507 words, immortal!oikawa

“What are you gonna do when I’m gone?”

Tooru shifts around so he’s face-to-face with Iwaizumi; they’re curled on the couch, warm like two puppies in a basket, legs tangled, foreheads gently bumping against each other. It’s easy to forget about everything else when they’re together like this but Tooru doesn’t want to forget, he wants to hold onto these moments for as long as he can. As morbid as Iwaizumi’s question was, he finds himself answering it with a lightness he never knew his chest ever had. “Lots of things, Iwa-chan! There’s going to be so many that it’ll take me at least a hundred years to try all of them!”

“Keeping yourself busy, eh? Would it kill you to take your time and lie low every once in a while?” Iwaizumi’s thumb tweaks his nose but the smile on his lover’s face tells Tooru that Iwaizumi’s glad he’s being upbeat about it because though the future may only bring Death for Iwaizumi, for Tooru, the stretch of immortality will remain a constant, looming further than anyone’s journey here in this world.

(His is a beginning with no end.)

“Well, I think it’s pretty well established by now that I can’t die, so,” Tooru shrugs, “don’t raise moot points, Iwa-chan, unless…you like watching me shoot them down.” He jerks one brow up, grinning like he’s caught the other doing something wholly uncharacteristic.

Iwaizumi makes a face at his insinuation and leans up to bite his chin, coolly ignoring all the fuss Tooru raises when his teeth grazes the skin and leaves a faint red line. “Whatever you say, Hanger.” He touches the mark he left, slow and contemplative. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask…”

Tooru blinks; apparently it’s his turn to prompt things along. “What is it?”

The other huffs, hesitation visiting him only once before he comes clean. “You’re going to live forever, and perhaps, if reincarnation is as real too, I might pop up every now and then to say hi.” They both laugh at this and Iwaizumi’s shoulders are less tense as he continues, “I don’t know when that’ll happen or if I’ll actually be lucky enough to be reborn as a human again, but you know what?”

His hand closes over Tooru’s, and the grin he wears is the brightest thing Tooru thinks he’ll ever kiss— for now and ever only now.

“Don’t wait for me. Don’t think it’s wrong to love somebody else when I’m not alive anymore; grieve if you need to but don’t drown in it, because I want you to move on. Nothing comes from being stagnant, especially in a life as fickle as yours.”

“Imparting wisdom while subtly snarking at me; that’s a whole new level of multitasking for you, Iwa-chan.” Tooru yelps as Iwaizumi pinches his arm, but that’s okay (because he’s okay too). Smirking, he raises a hand in salute and jauntily replies, “Yes, sir!”

(I’m not ever getting older, the back of mind whispers, but I’ll remember falling like this for a long time.)

Iwaizumi Hajime & Oikawa Tooru, Haikyuu!
no tags, hinted reincarnation, past iwaoi
673 words, immortal!Oikawa & reincarnated!Iwaizumi

“Hey, Mister!”

Tooru turns around and finds a small boy running up to him. He has green eyes and dark hair that lay in spikes on his head, and the familiarity of it takes his breath away. He crouches down so that he’s about level with the kid’s face. “Yaho! What is it, Shounen-kun?”

The boy even scrunches his face the same way that Hajime did back then. “You shouldn’t give nicknames to people so easily when you first meet them. It’s kinda rude.” He folds his arms and huffs right into Tooru’s face. “I thought all adults should know this!”

Tooru doesn’t miss the jab in that taunting lilt of adults and the kid has another thing coming if he thinks Tooru isn’t averse to stooping any lower— actually, quite literally considering their height differences— because he may be breaching a thousand years old as of today, but he’s never too old to dip into immaturity. He lets the most shit-eating grin he has stretch on his lips. “What’s this, Shounen-kun? I didn’t know the living breathing epitome for adulthood is actually this short in real life! How pitiful!”

Apparently Shounen-kun, in the span of the first ten seconds of Tooru’s sass, decided that he’d had enough of pokes at his pride today, for he says nothing but stomps extremely hard on Tooru’s toes; tears immediately springs to his eyes and he yelps like a kicked puppy.

“How dare!”

“I’m a kid but you behave more like a kid than I do,” he comments and rolls his eyes.

(Tooru’s heart is warmed by how exact it is to a brighter part of his past, and maybe, as Hajime once mentioned, he needs reminders every now and then.)

“Okay, okay, stop trying to bring down the great Oikawa-san.” He ruffles Shounen-kun’s hair, ignoring the protests and stink eyes that come his way for doing that. “You chased after me like a man late for the Shinkansen; what gives?”

Shounen-kun just stares at him at first. Then, he bites his bottom lip and looks away. Abashed. “I’m not actually too sure? I don’t know, I saw you pass by Obaa-chan’s shop and my feet just followed.” He squints at said appendages. “S’weird.”

Tooru smiles again. This time, when he ruffles the boy’s hair, it is far more gentle. “That’s alright. There’s a lot of weird things in life actually; for instance, like me!”

Shounen-kun seems to be having a field day with pulling faces at Tooru. Tooru is having a field day by going down memory lane too. “I can see that already.”

“You’re really just a crabby old man inside, aren’t you?” He lets out a dramatic sigh at that but, oh well, if Fate wants to play games with him, then, he’ll make it worth its while. “I’m a thousand years old today, you know? Isn’t that amazing?”

The kid looks up in surprise when he hears that and leans forward to pat Tooru’s cheek. His voice is grave, but it isn’t tinged with pity, which Tooru is immensely grateful for. “I think that’s more lonely than it is amazing, Oikawa-san.”

“Oh, you picked up my name just now!” He laughs at the boy’s answering snort. Tooru closes his eyes, and remembers the years of wandering alone in eternity, and then, the years he spent with Hajime, no matter how short the latter is compared to the former. He opens his eyes, and breathes, “Perhaps it is lonely, but perhaps it’s also just how things happen.”

Tooru shrugs.

“Life, too, is weird that way, and I’ve made my peace with it.”

Green eyes size him up for a few more seconds; the kid nods, a bit reluctantly. “So, even you can be mature too.”

“Have you no respect for the elderly, Shounen-kun?”

“Stop calling me that—“

(What a tiny little ghost of him you’re being, Tooru’s conscience muses, what a tiny little rock.)

“—my name’s Izumo!”

Tooru smiles.

“Then, it’s nice to meet you, Izumo-chan.”

(And there goes another beginning.)

Edited 2016-08-03 18:40 (UTC)

Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, Haikyuu!
no tags, rule 63, elemental magic
434 words

“I thought you’d be more of a water person, Oikawa-san.”

“Oh?” Oikawa hums and whirls her hand in vague motions, lets the flames she has conjured track its direction. Her grin is unfairly sharp; Kageyama thinks it’s sort of fitting for one who cuts to the point— and sometimes away— as much as her. “What’s these grand delusions about me, Tobio-chan?”

The emanating heat prickles on her skin, turning her lips dry, and Kageyama wishes she had the foresight of bringing a bottle of water with her before she started looking for her senior in the practice halls. She swallows the saliva that’s collected at the back of her throat. “I was just guessing…I guess.” Kageyama internally cringes at her own choice of words. “You’ve never told me which element you favoured.”

“And for good reason,” the other girl laughs and waves flippantly. “You don’t go telling a future opponent your secrets now, do you?”

Kageyama flinches because what Oikawa has said is true; there may be two years between them but Kageyama’s eligible to participate in the professional circuit now, she’d gotten her magic certification just two weeks ago. She sighs; why does Oikawa always have to make so much sense, and yet not, at the same time? “It’s not like I’m going to use it against you—“

A tiny burst of flame spirals forth by Kageyama’s feet.

“Care to repeat that again?” Oikawa’s are narrowed, ever so dangerous as she’s poised to make it surge if Kageyama so much as missteps (both literal and figuratively).

Two years ago she’d have been cowed but they’re equals now so Kageyama stands her ground. “I mean it. I won’t use whatever you tell me against you.” She flicks her fingers; droplets of water spray from the tips of her nails, extinguishing the fire below. When she looks up, her gaze is as steady as a river current making its way through the downstream. “You’ll just learn something new to make up for whatever you’ve lost.”

Oikawa tsks, then, squints at Kageyama. “You’re no fun anymore. Why do all the kids grow up too fast these days?”

(Kageyama barely bites down on the says the one who moved further, faster, than anyone else in junior academy that nearly tips off her tongue.)

The older girl taps her thigh twice, and her flames curl into themselves, melting inwards like molten lava and pooling in a circle; they blast upwards one last time, and in that moment, everything is an illumination of red.

Oikawa’s hair is rust when she says: “Let’s see who crushes who first now.”

Miyuki Kazuya/Oikawa Tooru, Daiya no Ace & Haikyuu!
no tags
poetry fill, 22 lines

if you want to be Icarus

Tell me, tell me
how many bones
have you broken, and
how many tears did you shed?

Did you cry when the floor met you
or did you laugh at
the things that should’ve
held you down instead?

Is it true, is it true
then, that
flying’s not the problem,
but it’s the mess of paperplanes
inside your room, inside your head
that’s keeping you from finding
land again?

(I thought you knew better
if you want to be Icarus,
you have to love falling
so much more
than
anything else
you’ve ever had.)

Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Haikyuu!
no tags
428 words, Card Captor Sakura!AU aka guess who's Sakura here

Hajime has to be very frank when he asks, “Why am I the one who has to go around catching the Clow Cards?”

“Because the Sun Guardian chose you or something along those lines, isn’t it?” Hanamaki nudges the aforementioned Sun Guardian who’s slumped on the small cushion Hajime has set on the desk for him; Matsukawa blinks awake and brings a paw up to muffle his yawn. He’s still sluggish as he gets up, tiny wings lazily fluttering, tail curling around the mug of honey milk beside him.

He takes a sip, clearly enjoying the sweetness of the drink and leeches the heat from it as well. “If it makes things easier, just think of the Cards as bugs.” He licks the cream clinging to his mouth. “You know, the ones you loved to chase after when you were a kid.”

“The grandest, biggest Insect Catch-‘Em-All,” Hanamaki adds just for the sake of playing devil’s advocate.

Hajime glowers at his so-called best friend. “Don’t think I won’t rip the costumes you force me to wear every time a Card pops up.”

The so-called best friend merely remains unfazed; he taps a finger on the camcorder he always somehow magically manages to whip out even during the most erratic of moments. “Do your worst. I’ve got all the memories I’ll ever need of them here.”

Gritting his teeth, Iwaizumi points out, “What you mean is you’ve got all the blackmail you’ll ever need from me.”

“Astute,” the other boy grins and replies, sharing a look of mutual satisfaction with Matsukawa.

“You’ve got to admit though, you do look rather fetching in them,” the Sun Guardian tries to reason, “and Makki’s sewing skills are truly a marvel.” He waggles his thick eyebrows for further emphasis.

“What’s so wrong with using regular clothes?” Hajime groans. He tugs the mug away from Matsukawa’s grasp in spite of his protestations; let that be a lesson to him when it comes to choosing sides and battles.

Hanamaki chortles. “At least I know there’s someone else other than Mattsun who appreciates the clothes I make for you.”

Hajime’s head whips around and the expression on his face could boil water. “Do not.”

“Ah, yes,” Matsukawa joins in on the fun. “A certain counterpart from Miyagi who’s after the Clow Cards too.” He grins deviously; it makes Iwaizumi shudder in horror.

“Who are you both trying to imply?”

Hanamaki and Matsukawa chime gleefully in unison: “Who else? Oikawa, of course!”

(Iwaizumi nearly summons Firey to make them repent, which is a truly sobering reality, indeed.)

Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, haikyuu!!

twewy au

mentions of violence, suicide, guns, death
894 words.

Oikawa smiles in the infuriating way that makes Iwaizumi want to wipe the smirk off his face, preferably with his fist.

“Did you really think I died, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa giggles and Iwaizumi’s mouth is open—of course? What else was he supposed to think after Oikawa shoved him into a coffin, closed the door, and sent him down the Miyagi River while spouting things about not being able to be “Charon” or some shit like that—especially when the last thing he saw was Oikawa’s resigned smile as if he accepted his death.

“Well, I’ve known to be quite the actor,” Oikawa continues and Iwaizumi squints. Telepathy. God damn it. Screw you, he shouts in his mind, screw you!

Oikawa titters. Iwaizumi didn’t even know someone could titter until he met Oikawa Tooru.

“Now, now,” Oikawa’s still so smug, “don’t look so glum. Isn’t it a celebration when people return from the dead?”

No.

In a flash, Oikawa tosses something to him and upon reflex, Iwaizumi catches it. The black metal is cool, sleek, and Iwaizumi feels his stomach drop out when he looks at his hands.

It’s a gun.

“Let me tell you a little tale,” Oikawa muses as he circles Iwaizumi, much like a predator circling their prey. “Imagine this: a baby boy is born. His parents rejoice! It’s a grand affair—until the boy turned four and asks why his grandmother is watching him. His parents are confused; why would the grandmother be watching him? She’s been dead for ten years.” Iwaizumi stiffens.

“One day, he follows his grandmother. He sees all these people running around and these monsters twisted from graffiti trailing after them, each disappearing with individualized pins. Two girls, one with a massive wrench and the other with a potted plant—he saw them fight, enchanted. But he had a mission, so he followed his grandmother to a small café, three miles from home.” Oikawa hums.

“It turns out that his grandmother wasn’t surprised at all that he could see him. In this café, with an intrinsic decal out in front, was the only place where they could converse and talk. Players of the Game came in, until the last three days, in which no one paid a visit to her shop.” Iwaizumi wonders if this is going to take a long time—Oikawa’s always had a flare for the dramatic.

“Wow, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa pouts condescendingly, which looks ridiculous. “Are you really getting that bored? Maybe that’s why your grades suck.”

“Stop reading my mind,” Iwaizumi snaps back.

“Hard to when you’re so loud,” Oikawa replies with a shrug of his shoulders. Iwaizumi is not loud. Oikawa laughs.

“Well, fine, fine, short story even shorter—my grandmother taught me all the ropes and I decided to kill myself in order to play the game and become the Composer of Miyagi!” Oikawa sighs fondly, as if in memory. “My partner was super mad though; you see, I decided to break our pact three days in because I already had enough power by myself to take out the Composer, so she turned into Noise, whoops, but now everything’s okay!”

“That’s—you’re—you’re terrible!” Iwaizumi splutters. Oikawa gasps, mock hurt, and places a pointed hand on his chest.

“Aw, but I treated you so much better than my last partner.” Oikawa shrugs. “Can I really be the one to blame for Miyagi losing its charm?” He grins and Iwaizumi knows that he knows that’s not what they were talking about.

Oikawa finishes his little stroll and now, he’s behind Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi turns around and there’s Oikawa, pointing a gun at him.

“Oh yeah,” Oikawa sighs, “I guess I should return this to you.”

Iwaizumi gets assaulted with the memory of Oikawa, gun in hand, looking at Iwaizumi shivering in fear on the ground. Cold eyes, cold gun, cold bullet through his warm heart.

“You,” Iwaizumi says and raises the gun.

“Me!” Oikawa chirps. He flicks the safety off. Iwaizumi’s hands do the same—Oikawa’s imprinting on him, even now. “Ready?”

He’s going to count down, Iwaizumi realizes with much horror, and then he’s going to kill him. Then he’s going to erase Miyagi.

“Three.” Oikawa. The Composer. Oikawa. The Composer.

“Two,” Oikawa is going to shoot him.

He has to do this. He—he spent a month working for this. It can’t just all go to waste now.

Don’t you think, Matsukawa had hummed that third week as he absentmindedly stroked Hanamaki’s Noise Form’s fur, that you’re too loyal?

Is that supposed to be a bad thing, Iwaizumi fired back, pin clenched between his hands.

No, Matuskawa had sighed in this memory, clearly used to Hanamaki being there to explain things with him, as long as you don’t sacrifice the world for someone you really care about.

“One,” Oikawa’s finger moves onto the trigger. Iwaizumi’s does too. He feels tears pool at the corner of his eyes and run down his cheeks; he hates it, feeling weak like this, and suddenly it feels as if a dam broke out and he sobs, heaving in great gulps of air as he struggles to breathe. He doesn’t collapse but he might as well have; he lowers his gun. Concedes.

“Sorry,” he whispers. To who, he doesn’t know.

“Don’t apologize, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa laughs.

He pulls the trigger.

**

Iwaizumi wakes up at Miyagi Park.

Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Haikyuu!
no tags, time travelling, unresolved feelings
510 words, time travellers/scientists!iwaoi

“How much time do you have left?”

Tooru checks his wristwatch and sighs. “Just around twenty minutes.” He glances towards Iwaizumi. “What about you, Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head, slightly rueful as he unclasps his watch and holds it up. “I’ve got fifteen.”

Upon hearing that, Tooru groans, whining, “That damned five minutes difference! When will it ever stop being the bane of us?!”

“Some things just never change; just like your tendency to blow things out of proportion,” his friend casually comments while rummaging his knapsack. His hand comes out with a journal and he quickly sets to jotting the details of their current coincidental meeting down. “Just learn to accept it, Kusokawa.”

Tooru’s aware that what’s inevitable will remain so, but if anything, studying and experimenting with time travel has definitely screwed in the necessity of carpe diem to the back of his mind. He grumbles, “You, of all people, should understand it’s never as simple as that. Every single minute— seconds even— counts!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Iwa-chan, stop tuning me out.” He’s a little bit irritated as Iwaizumi continues to ignore him, but whatever; he’d rather not waste this small pocket of still time they’re lucky enough to be able to collide into simultaneously. Tooru rarely gets to see his friend otherwise, since the two of them are usually immersed in different timelines: Tooru flies to the future while Iwaizumi lingers in the past.

(Before they got into this whole thing, Hanamaki had looked at them, confused, asking, “You both usually go everywhere together, so what’s up with the sudden split?”

Tooru had laughed it off— because he didn’t know the answer to that either— but Hajime—Hajime had kept silent.

Tooru wishes he hadn’t; it only reminds him of the noiseless slipping of years to be spent apart.)

Something soft whacks his face and Tooru falls out of his thoughts. “Can’t you just pass me stuff normally? I’m not your personal dartboard, you know.”

“Look, it’s milk bread. I got it when I landed back in Seijou.”

Tooru gapes at him. “You promised you wouldn’t go back that far!”

“I’ve gone and I’ve came back. Deal with it.”

“That’s not the point!” An undefined lump gets caught in his throat, and Tooru wants nothing more than to spit it out, along with his worries and fears and, and— his feelings for Hajime.

(His watch indicates they only have five minutes left.)

Iwaizumi stands up. “I’ve gotta go.” A tear appears in the space of dimensional air behind him; he’s about to step through it until Tooru grabs the edge of his jacket and he pauses to look backwards.

Tootu has, ironically, always been the more tight-lipped one when it comes to weaker moments like this. He closes his eyes and gives in. “Remember to miss me, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi flicks his forehead and pulls away, calling out over his shoulder, “I’ll get you more milk bread next time!”

Then, the tear swallows him up.

(Tooru doesn’t want more milk bread; he just wants more time with Iwaizumi Hajime.)

Sawamura Eijun & Haruichi Kominato, Sawamura Eijun & Miyuki Kazuya, daiya no ace

twewy au

mentions of violence, typical canon supernatural elements, death
960 words.

“This isn’t my body,” Haruichi tells him one day when they’re eating ramen for lunch, his own bowl of noodles delicately untouched.

“Okay,” Sawamura squints around a mouthful of noodles, decidedly disgusting but he’s starving, “that’s fine?”

Haruichi worries his bottom lip between his teeth. It’s decidedly not fine.

Being that this is Day 6 and tomorrow is a do or die situation—Sawamura doesn’t know what it’s going to be but he knows that the Reaper’s Game is far from being easy—Sawamura takes Haruichi in. He’s short, pink hair, eyes slid shut with a permanent smirk on his face. But now, he just looks like he’s glowering at the universe for being unfair.

Sawamura can’t imagine Haruichi not being this Haruichi, which is unfair considering Haruichi just told Sawamura that he wasn’t this Haruichi.

“I’ve got bangs that cover my eyes,” Haruichi whispers, “and I’m… frailer.”

“Okay,” Sawamura thinks for a moment. “What color is your hair?”

“Pink,” Haruichi murmurs.

“But your hair is pink now!” Sawamura is confused.

Haruichi’s eyebrows tremble.

“This is—“ he sucks in a breath, “this is my brother’s body.”

“Okay,” Sawamura nods, because that makes sense. He tries to imagine Haruichi a bit slimmer and with his bangs covering his eyes and—gosh, he really can’t.

“So your entry fee was your body?” Sawamura scratches his cheek. Haruichi’s silence is answer enough and Sawamura fishes out the last of the greens from his bowl. He doesn’t really understand why Haruichi waited this long to tell him and why he kept the pretense that he was in the right body for so long, but Sawamura knows enough about demons and nightmares to allow for it to be a secret.

“Well,” Sawamura says conversationally, obviously casual but not insulting, “that’s fine. Harucchi is Harucchi, no matter what! I didn’t become friends with you because of your body. I became friends with you because you’re you.”

“Eijun-kun,” Haruichi laughs with a hand over his mouth, “you’re drawing attention.”

“Whatever,” Sawamura huffs. He’s done with his meal.

Haruichi finally picks up his chopsticks. His ramen’s gone cold.

**

“Congratulations on making it past Day 7,” the reaper says, shaved head and all, as they struggle to catch their breath and nurse their wounds from the final fight. They’ve been transported to this awkward black limbo in between the RG and UG. “I am the Conductor on here as the Composer’s proxy. You’ll get your entry fees back soon.”

“We did it, Harucchi!” Sawamura yells and tackles the other around the waist, lifting him up and spinning him around. Haruichi laughs, obviously relieved, and they spin in sheer joy for a while.

“But only one can return among the living,” the Conductor says and that’s when Sawamura’s blood runs cold.

“What,” Haruichi whispers, still in Sawamura’s arms. Sawamura’s just glad that he didn’t drop the other in shock, placing him down.

“That’s the rules,” the Conductor shrugs without a care, “what if a bunch of players won? We can’t just return all of you willy nilly.”

“That’s—that’s unfair!” Sawamura yells and Haruichi agrees with a nod of his head. “We weren’t told that when we started!”

“I don’t make the rules around here, kid,” the Conductor shrugs, “but anyways, the player who erased the most noise gets to go back. With that, Kominato Haruichi, congratulations.”

Sawamura’s so relieved. He drops to his knees.

“What? That’s impossible!” Haruichi is upset, his voice cracks uncontrollably with grief. “Sawamura is the one who eliminated all of them; without him, I would be dead!”

“You are dead,” the Conductor counters. Haruichi looks like he’s three seconds from smacking them upside the head.

“It’s alright, Harucchi,” Sawamura laughs, “it’s okay! You get to go back and get your body back and everything.”

Haruichi looks devastated. His eyes finally open and Sawamura smiles widely. His body is floating upwards and he wipes his face to still the tears that are streaming down.

Then, he’s gone.

The Conductor clears his throat.

“Sawamura Eijun, you will be headed back into the game for the next week.” He shrugs his shoulders—he doesn’t make the rules. “For another chance at life. Here is your entry fee back.”

The memories of baseball assault him—that’s right, he used to be a pitcher, no, he is still a pitcher, he still loves baseball, he feels full as if he accepted that he was whole when he was missing such a large part of him.

“And now,” the Conductor sighs, “Week 2 will begin. Your entry fee this time around is Kominato Haruichi.”

“What?” Sawamura yells, frozen in shock.

“Remember,” the Conductor’s body is gone but his voice is still there, “if you die, Kominato Haruichi’s life will be forfeited as well.”

**

Sawamura wakes up in Musashikokubunji Park.

He yells.

**

“Be my partner,” Sawamura yells as he grips the teen’s shoulders, shaking him back and forth. “Form a pact with me.”

“Oh, Sawamura,” the guy smiles despite the man-handling, “you’re so forceful before the first date! Before we even knew each other’s names. Never pegged you for being such a cheap date. What is the colloquial term? Netflix and chill? I’m more of a wine and dine myself—”

Sawamura drops him. But the pact must have been completed. Lights swirl around them, sickening in their familiar glow.

“My name is Sawamura Eijun,” Sawamura hisses. “They took my friend.”

“We’ve all paid a price to be here,” the male says as if he was talking about dirt. Sawamura clenches his fists. The guy adjusts his glasses. “I’m Miyuki Kazuya—you can just call me Miyuki. Take care of me, partner. I’ll need your strong hands to handle these seven days.”

Sawamura grits his teeth. Miyuki laughs.

Sawamura Daichi/Oikawa Tooru, haikyuu!!

pkmn au

typical canon supernatural elements, fighting
644 words.

“What are you doing?” Sawamura asks and taps his foot against the ground.

Oikawa looks up, paintbrush dipped in honey in his hand. He’s got a farmer’s hat atop of his head to protect him from the harsh rays of sun, but it somehow makes him look more pretentious than usual.

“I’m slathering honey on the trees to attract wild Pokemon,” Oikawa blinks, “this one is a Munchlaw tree so it might take a while, but eventually one of them will come.”

Sawamura winkles his nose. He feels like he’s going to regret saying this but:

“Why don’t you just headbutt it?”

Oikawa fixes him with a look of sheer disbelief.

“You know,” Sawamura gestures to the tree with a hand, his arms crossed otherwise. He can feel embarrassment creep up his neck. “Just, I dunno, get your Pokemon to do it for you.”

Oikawa is still staring at him. Some of the honey drips of the bristles of his brush. Sawamura waits for the inevitable.

“Sawamura-kun,” Oikawa wheezes through laughs, his paintbrush forgotten on the forest floor. “You’re more of a barbarian than I thought! Is that what people from Johto do? Headbutting trees? Ah, that would explain why your region’s folk lack common sense.”

“Suga doesn’t lack common sense,” Sawamura mumbles sourly, because Suga’s his best bet at an example.

“Suga’s a special case,” Oikawa hums and picks up his brush, resuming his work. “I—ah, that’s so funny,” he giggles, “I had no idea that Johto was such a barbaric region. What else do you do?”

Sawamura shuffles from side to side.

“We walk with our Pokemon out of their balls all the time,” he eventually admits and Oikawa’s eyebrows rise.

“I remember that!” Oikawa chirps, putting the honey and brush securely back into his backpack. “I was there to help you out when you were almost arrested! You can only do that in Amity Square here—with the permitted Pokemon.”

“I don’t really get it,” Sawamura mutters and crosses his arms. He’s definitely not pouting. “It’s just—how do you bond with your Pokemon otherwise?”

Oikawa snorts.

“My bond with my Pokemon is fine,” he says, taking a few steps back, and Sawamura falls in line with him. “After all—you can’t say that my bond is weaker than yours considering that my Pokemon wiped the floor with you.”

Sawamura grimaces at the memory.

“Well, well,” Oikawa laughs, “the humble breeder didn’t stand a chance against the Champion of Sinnoh, after all. But it was a good effort,” here, Oikawa loops their arms together and draws Sawamura in closer, “and it was fresh to have someone not recognize me.”

They wait for a while. A Combee buzzes nearby.

“Alas,” Oikawa murmurs sourly—his Empoleon comes out with a flick of his wrist and silently dispatches the Combee, returning to the Pokeball when it’s over. Oikawa doesn’t move a single muscle, simply watching with careful eyes to see if a Munchlax is nearby.

“What’s the likelihood that it’s going to show, again?” Sawamura groans; this is worse than the time he watched a trainer walk instead of bike to hatch his eggs.

“One percent!” Oikawa chirps. “But I’m feeling lucky.”

**

Oikawa screams when the Munchlax shows, uses Mean Look, and then looks at Sawamura expectantly.

Sawamura holds his hands up—last time he gave Oikawa a Pokemon to use that had False Swipe, his Scizor from Suga would only eat the finest of Pokemon food after that. It was terrible.

Oikawa rolls his eyes, mutters something about useless significant others, and poisons the Munchlax. They watch Oikawa’s Lucario Calm Mind while the Munchlax Growls. Eventually, the Munchlax tires out and Oikawa underhand tosses a Pokeball.

It shakes once.

Twice.

They are both holding their breath.

Thrice.

“I did it!” Oikawa cheers and jumps in the air. Sawamura smiles despite himself.

Akaashi Keiji&/Konoha Akinori Haikyuu!!
no tags
1474 words

Every year since he could remember, Akaashi Keiji always went to his grandparents' house for a week in the summer. They lived in a moderately-sized village near the mountainside, and aside from nature, there wasn't much for a little kid to see. It didn't help that even as a small boy Akaashi wasn't very social, so he would usually stay at home and read books instead of going out and play with the kids nearby.

Well, there was one local person that he'd sometimes hung out with, though he wasn't a kid. He looked like he was around 20 years old, and although Akaashi didn't know his full name, he'd told the boy to call him 'Akinori.'

The first time Akaashi met him was when he was 8. They were at the annual festival near the river and Akaashi had lost both of his parents in the crowd. He tried his best to not cry, and although he almost succeeded, a voice that greeted him failed his attempt,

"Hello there, boy. Are you here by yourself?"

His voice, Akaashi remembered, was clear and charming, just like the smile he was giving. Akaashi didn't know why exactly, but it was like that voice unlocked the worry and fear that had built up in the past few minutes he'd been separated, and a drop of tear slowly flowed down his cheek, followed by another, and another. The older man leaned forward, his smile widened in what might have been an attempt of reassurance.

"Are you separated from your parents? Let's go find—"

The older's sentence was cut by Akaashi's shaking head, a quite violent one at that. "Mom and Dad always tell me not to follow strangers!" he blurted out despite his tears. The man's eyes widened for a moment, but it took no time for them to soften back into a gaze.

"Okay, let's do this, then," the man said. "I'm going to walk to the information center, and you're free to decide to follow me or not. If you think I'm walking somewhere dangerous, you can stop following me anytime. How does that sound?"

Akaashi looked up and eventually, although a little hesitantly, nodded. As instructed, they went to the information center, and Akaashi was reunited with his panicked mom and dad after making an announcement. All was well in the end, except the man had disappeared before Akaashi could say thank you.

It might be coincidence, it might be fate, whichever it was, Akaashi saw him again the next year. A child's memory might not be the most reliable, but there was no way Akaashi would forget that smile.

"Onii-san!" he called, turning the man's head. The man turned his head, the surprised look on his face quickly changed to a pleased one when he realized who was calling.

"Hello, there. Are you lost again today?"

"I'm not!" Akaashi frowned, and the man chuckled. "Mom and Dad are right there!" He pointed to a late-30s couple in their yukata, who seemed to have noticed them and sent a wave their way. The man smiled. "I just wanted to thank you for helping me last year," Akaashi said, getting the man's attention back to him. "You were gone before I could say it."

"Oh, you're welcome, little boy," the guy said.

"I'm not a 'little boy', I have a name," Akaashi said. "I'm Akaashi. Akaashi Keiji." The man smiled.

"Keiji-kun, then."

"And Onii-san? What's your name?"

The man's smile widened under the moonlight. "You can call me Akinori."

They became friends quickly, Akaashi and Akinori, despite the age gap. Well, 'friends' as in they would walk at the festival, eat some food, and watch the fireworks together. Just like Akaashi, Akinori wasn't a big fan of crowd, so oftentimes they would walk to the smaller temple not too far away from the festival and watch the fireworks from there.

They talked about a lot of things, Akinori wasn't much of a reader but he would listen to Akaashi talking about books until the festival was over. Akinori wasn't much of a talker, and actually neither was Akaashi, but for some reason the younger was so eager to talk every time they met, which was unfortunately only once a year. He would talk about his family, his pet dog, how he was beginning to pick up volleyball, how volleyball made friends for him that he'd never thought he would have. Akinori always listened with a smile on his face, occasionally making comments, but mainly was just there to listen.

One time Akinori did the bon odori dance following the sounds of drums from the festival, to have a little of some festival fun while not actually being in the crowd. Akaashi, although hesitantly at first, was eventually prodded to join.

It became their tradition for years to come.

"Akinori-san, do you live here?" Akaashi asked when he was 10.

"Hmm? No, I'm just visiting, just like you."

"Then... Are you still here tomorrow? I heard the sunset behind the mountains is really pretty."

"Sorry, I have things to do tomorrow. But we can meet here again at night if you want."

"Can we float the lantern down the river together?"

"Oh, I have things to do at that time as well, but before that, okay?"

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"Last year you said you were a college student, right? Have you graduated yet?" Akaashi asked when he was 12.

"Nah, not yet."

"What do you study?"

"Hmm... I guess if I should say it, I study humans."

"Humans? Do you mean... Anthropology or Psychology?"

"Oooh, you know some difficult words despite your age, huh. But yes, something like that."

"Hmm. Somehow that suits you."

"Why, thank you, Keiji-kun."

"Akinori-san, you never answer me when I ask about your age," Akaashi said when he was 14.

"Well, how old do I look?"

"That's the same answer as my aunt always answer people when she's asked about her age."

"I don't know how I feel hearing that information."

"20."

"Sorry?"

"You look 20."

"Pfft. Okay. I take that as a compliment, then. Thanks, Keiji-kun."

"Akinori-san, does your last name happen to be 'Konoha'?" Akaashi asked when he was 16. Akinori smiled as he turned his head.

"How did you find out?"

"This village might not be very small, but it's strange that no one knows about you, even when you visit every year."

Akinori leaned forward on his seat. "I did tell you I was a loner, no?"

"You know what I think is more strange?" Akaashi asked, ignoring the sentence. Akinori didn't answer, but Akaashi had a feeling that the older had expected this. "That you look way too young—that you didn't change at all from the first time we met 8 years ago."

"I am often told that I do have a young face."

"How old are you right now?"

There was a pause before a barely noticeable sigh left Akinori's lips. "21."

"And how long have you been 21?"

Akinori answered nothing, but his lips were curving a smile. It was as if he'd expected this moment to come.

"We always meet in obon festival," Akaashi continued, trying to read beyond that smile. He couldn't tell, but that didn't stop him from saying what he'd wanted to say— "And my eyes caught your name when my family and I were out lighting the incense today."

It took two, three seconds of silence until a small chuckle left Akinori's smiling lips. "I'm sorry," was the first thing that he'd said. Akaashi's shoulders tensed as he listened. "I didn't mean to trick you, and I knew this day would come sooner or later," he said, his lips were still smiling but Akaashi noticed the sorrow beginning to gloom over his eyes. "Like I said, I was a loner. I didn't have anyone when I was alive, so I didn't have anyone to greet me in obon, either," he continued, his gaze was fixed on the ground in every syllable, but the returned to Akaashi's gaze as he said his next words, "So I was really happy when you talked to me." There was a pause, a pause that felt so heavy when Akinori took a breath to continue, "But I guess this is fare—"

"The bon odori dance will start soon," Akaashi said, cutting Akinori's words. The older "We're going to do it again this year, right?"

Akinori blinked. "Huh?"

"I'm not a fan of not continuing traditions," Akaashi said, his voice toneless but Akinori might be able to see a smile. "And of course, we'll do it next year too."

There was a pause, quite a long one, but unlike the one they'd had a minute before, the pause felt light and comfortable. Akinori grinned, cracking his neck.

"Yeah."

—

note: obon is believed to be the days when ancestors' spirits come back to the world to visit their relatives.

Edited 2016-08-03 21:17 (UTC)

Bokuto Koutarou/Konoha Akinori Haikyuu!!
no tags the little mermaid au (sort of)
603 words

"Maybe you should go up and meet him before he drowns again which will make your last effort futile."

Konoha had known this before Akaashi pointed it out, but actually hearing it spoken out made him sigh quite hyperbolically. "Yes, but I don't really wanna meet him again, I only saved him because I happened to be nearby!" he said, huffing annoyedly. "This is why I don't want to have anything to do with humans, they're always overly curious!"

"Says the one who used to like watching humans from afar not even a year ago," Akaashi deadpanned, then continued before the now blushing merman could refute, "But you really need to do something about him. He gets farther and farther away from the shore every day, and one of these days he will drown again."

Konoha groaned. "Fine. I'll go up tomorrow, tell him to leave us alone."

"I have a feeling that if you said that he'll only become more curious, but good luck."

"Geez, thanks for the encouragement, Mr. Supportive."

Konoha had nothing but bad feelings about this, but nah, it was going to be be alright. Right? It wasn't the first time he would be dealing directly with a human, and it had been okay in the past. It was going to be fine this time as well.

Or it was not.

"You're a mermaid!" the guy said. He had white hair and a pair of unusual golden eyes.

"Merman," he corrected out of habit. "You've never seen one of us before?"

"No, I haven't! I'm not from this area, see, I'm from there!" The man pointed somewhere and Konoha wasn't sure where exactly he was pointing, not that he particularly cared. "Far, far away in the middle of the land! It was my first time in the sea the other day, I got so excited I didn't realize the storm was coming!"

"People would usually notice if the sky gets dark..." Konoha sighed. "But well, now you've seen me, so all's well, right? Don't go out by yourself so far from the shore again, you were lucky I was nearby last time but there's no telling next time," he said. "And don't come near us—"

"Can I touch your tail?"

"Oi, don't cut people in the middle of talking! And listen to me!" Konoha hissed, a vein was probably visible from the man's sight. "I was sayi—"

"Oh!" the man shouted again, causing Konoha's shoulders to jump. Would this man let Konoha finish one sentence?! "You have scales on your ears! That's so cool!"

"Ye—"

"How's life under water? I bet it's fun coz you can swim all the time! And ooooh all the fish! And I bet you eat seafood every day! Wait, does that count as cannibalism? But it's not like you eat your own kind right? You eat half of your own kind, then? Half-cannibalism?! And how do your houses look like? Are your house doors on the side of the house or on the roof? Wait, do you even have roofs? Do you even have doors?! I can't imagine how pretty your city would be! Wait, do you live in cities like humans or do you just live separately from each other? Man I would love to swim under water with the fish and everything too! And... And..."

"So," Akaashi said, neither his face nor voice was amused. "Tell me how your trip to tell the human to not come near us again ended up with you asking the witch for a potion to turn human legs into fins?"

Konoha groaned.

Edited 2016-08-04 05:40 (UTC)

Tags: Necromancy (discussions of), mention of past parent death
Word Count: 448
Miyuki Kazuya/Oikawa Tooru (daiya/haikyuu!!) hogwarts au

"In here again?" a familiar and ever present voice asks from somewhere behind Oikawa.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Oikawa asks in return with a chipper smile to Miyuki.

Pulling a face, Miyuki curls down over Oikawa's back, reaching forward to grab the book Oikawa finished with half an hour ago. "Necromancy's illegal," he comments idly, flicking through the pages.

Oikawa shoots him an amused glance. "Who's to say what is and is not legal?"

Miyuki snorts and shifts into a more comfortable position against Oikawa. "Ever think the hat made a mistake?"

Oikawa's smile turns smirk. "Miyucchi, are you implying I'm not a pure and loyal soul? This is defamation of my character." He leans in close to Miyuki, putting the book he was reading aside and inching the one Miyuki claimed out of his hands.

Neither of them are entirely sure what they are these days. Friends, probably, something else, maybe. The problem is that Oikawa knows he's the one who should set those boundaries, make the choices, he's the older one. The prefect for all that's worth. But he won't think about that. Even as he closes the gap between them and presses his lips to Miyuki's for a second. They're soft, as always.

He returns to his book. "It's purely for interest. No one is really successful at raising the dead."

Miyuki muses on his words. Oikawa can feel his breath on the curve of his shoulder as he does.

"We could do it," he says.

Oikawa adores Miyuki.

"Could we now?"

"Sure." Miyuki's comforting weight shifts against Oikawa again and he squeezes around his middle. "Do some research, pick a corpse, give it a go."

The awesome heights that Miyuki wants to reach are going to get them killed one of these days. "And who would you want to drag back into this mortal coil?" This is the real reason Oikawa isn't seriously considering delving into necromancy: all of his people are here. And the most important one is curled over his back.

Miyuki falls silent. Then lies. "Figure it doesn't matter, just so long as we get the credit for being the first ones to do it right. Become legends."

Oikawa doesn't move so he can let Miyuki know that he's aware of the lie. But they're not people to talk about themselves, no matter what other people think. They talk about who they pretend to be, who they become for their needs, and let each other see what else they are without discussing it, because that would make it real.

"So," Miyuki says, flicking Oikawa's book to the next page in preparation for changing the subject, "are we gonna fuck or what?"

Kominato Haruichi/Sawamura Eijun, Daiya no Ace
no tags, sleeping beauty au
1788 words

Trees weren’t supposed to be grey, Haruichi thought.

He rested his hand on one of the trees cautiously, wary of how silent the forest was; there was no birdsong or any sound of leaves rustling, and it filled him with foreboding. The bark of the tree felt cold and rough – not like normal, but like a statue, as if someone had carved it from a block of stone.

Haruichi looked back at the regular, green forest he’d come from, then ahead at the sea of grey trunks and frozen leaves ahead. What on Earth had he stumbled across?

Common sense told him to find a different route – he wasn’t going anywhere in particular, just looking for a place to stay – but he had to find out what lay in the centre of this mess. Closing his eyes, he summoned his magic and muttered a couple of spells – setting a marker here in case he got lost, and enhancing his resilience in case he came across anything bad. After he was done, he pressed on.

As he went further in, it became clear that the entire forest was made of stone. Haruichi thought about what could have caused it – an extremely powerful mage, maybe, one a lot stronger than himself. He was fresh out of training and was still at the stage where he had to go to other lands to collect ingredients and the like instead of having the skills to grow them in his own patch – he didn’t even have his own patch, which was one of the things he’d been seeking out before he’d found the forest of stone.

Curiosity killed the cat, his brother would say, when they used to live together. He pushed away the memory and continued.

He noticed the trees thinning after a short while – fortunately the forest wasn’t too big – and stepped out of the stony woods into a clearing.

What he saw there made him freeze.

A giant castle stood in the frozen grass, the same dull shade of grey as everything else in the area. It was covered in thorns – which also seemed to be frozen – and it looked as if nothing had touched it in hundreds of years.

Very cautiously, Haruichi stepped forward, following the path up to the door. Nothing stirred.

He rested his hand on the door, and it began to glow beneath his fingertips. Alarmed, he stumbled back, but the glow remained as a shining golden handprint on the stone surface, a splash of colour among the monochrome surroundings. To Haruichi’s amazement, the colour then began to spread, colouring the entire castle, cracking sounds filling the air as flakes of stone began to fall off.

Haruichi was frozen in alarm. He hadn’t used any magic, so why had his touch triggered this? He couldn’t be sure, but it almost seemed like the castle was returning to normal.

The stone melted away from the golden walls, and all of a sudden the door flew open. A girl stood there, eyes wide – from her attire, she looked like some kind of noble.

“You're here,” she gasped. Haruichi noticed stone fading from her fingertips, and realised with a jolt that there must be people in this castle, all encased in stone. He could only stare as she looked back towards the castle, hearing the footsteps of people as they hurried through the halls to see what was going on, before she grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.

“Come in,” she said. “Before everyone crowds us.”

***

The girl’s name was Wakana, and after she’d managed to pull him out of the sight of the other residents, she sat him down and explained what was happening. First, she asked him what the year was – when he told her, she looked shocked.

“It’s been two hundred years since we were frozen,” she said, amazed. “I definitely don’t feel that old.”

She didn’t look it, either – she didn’t seem much older than Haruichi. “How did I break the seal?” Haruichi asked her, still a little shaken.

Wakana sat up a little straighter. “Two hundred years ago, our king wronged a powerful sorceress. It’s… more complicated than that, but if I went into detail we’d be here all day. Anyway, in revenge, she cursed the palace – starting with the king’s son.” Her face fell a little. “He was put into an eternal sleep. The curse continued to spread even after the king died, and it was said that it could only be broken by the sorceress, or her blood. As in relatives.”

Haruichi blinked, trying to take all this in, and Wakana tilted her head. “I guess you must be her descendent, then, but it doesn’t look like you know anything about this.”

He shook his head slowly. “No, I don’t. I come from a long line of mages, but I don’t think we know our history that far back.”

“I see.” Wakana folded her hands. “Well… thank you for freeing us. I just need to ask you for one more thing.”

Haruichi nodded. “What is it?”

“It’s about the king’s son. He’s still asleep, and it doesn’t look like he’s waking up any time soon.” Hope glimmered in her eyes. “Would you see if you can wake him up? He was my best friend.”

Well, it wasn’t like he could just walk away after all this, and he wasn’t in a rush. Haruichi smiled and nodded. “I can try.”

“Thank you.” Wakana smiled back, then turned and led him out of the room.

***

This isn’t working, Haruichi thought.

He was sitting on a chair in front of a large, four-poster bed, observing the sleeping prince – Eijun, his name was, Sawamura Eijun. Wakana had left to give him space while he tried out his magic, but nothing – no awakening spells, no anti-hex spells or curse-reversing charms – had worked. Contact hadn’t worked either, like it had with the castle; it was evident that something different was at play here. Eijun wasn’t even frozen in stone anymore – he just looked like any slumbering human, except he refused to wake up.

Haruichi was at a loss.

“Look,” he mumbled, part of him questioning why he was even talking to a person who couldn’t hear him, “I don’t know how to help you. Can’t you give me a hint? Anything?”

He was greeted with closed eyelids and limp arms. Haruichi sighed.

“Is this like a fairy tale?” he muttered quietly to himself. “I hope I don’t have to kiss you, or something silly like that.”

It was ridiculous, of course. But a tiny part of him thought that, well, why shouldn’t he try? Of course, there was only a tiny chance it would work, but it was still a chance, and he didn’t want to leave prematurely; if he did he wouldn’t be able to stop wondering whether he could’ve done more to help. If it didn’t work, he could just try something else. As long as Wakana didn’t suddenly open the door to check on him.

Come to think of it, did he even have to kiss him on the mouth? Haruichi lifted one of Eijun’s arms and pressed his lips to the back of his hand.

Nothing happened. He supposed it would have to be the mouth.

Haruichi leaned forward, his rational thoughts snapping why are you doing this, this is ludicrous and will never even work, and pecked the sleeping prince on the lips.

He then shot backwards, embarrassment colouring his face a bright red. This felt… really weird.

And then, Eijun opened his eyes.

Haruichi sat, shocked and staring – Eijun’s eyes glancing around the room until they came to rest on him. They’re so bright, Haruichi thought.

Eijun was still staring at him and he hadn’t spoken, so Haruichi took it upon himself to start. “Um… hey. Are you okay?”

It wasn’t the best starter, but Haruichi’s mind was taking a while to catch up with the situation. How had the kiss actually worked? He was close to just melting into the floor when Eijun sat up, alarmingly fast for someone who’d just woken up from a two hundred year slumber.

“Did you wake me up?” he asked, excited. Haruichi blinked – everything was happening too fast. “Y-yeah, I did. My name’s Haruichi—”

“Thank you!” Eijun stood up, attempting to bow, and then stumbled. Haruichi jumped up, holding his shoulders to steer him back to his bed. “Please sit down, you only just woke up!”

“Sorry, sorry.” Eijun grinned sheepishly as he sat – his grin reminded Haruichi of a sunny day. “But really, thanks! I thought I’d be asleep forever. I mean, I knew what was gonna happen when I fell asleep, and I kinda thought ‘what if I never wake up?’ But here I am! And I actually don’t feel that tired!”

Haruichi laughed a little. “Well, you have been asleep for two hundred years.”

“That long?” Eijun gaped at him, and then he laughed, a loud, obnoxious sound, but it was also oddly endearing. “I guess that makes sense, then!”

He halted suddenly, mid-laugh. “Wait, did you kiss me, Harucchi?”

Haruichi froze, mind flicking between oh god, he knows and how does he know and did he just nickname me? “I…” He hid his face in his hands. “No! I mean… it was a spur of the moment decision, I promise-”

“Huh? I’m not mad or anything,” Eijun said, blinking. “But one of the curse conditions was something like,” he put on a dramatic voice, frowning comically, “’you can only be awoken by the kiss of the person who you are going to marry.’”

Everything was happening way too fast.

“I,” Haruichi started again, his head swimming, then sighed. He was too exhausted to be floundering in confusion anymore. “I’m just a mage who stumbled across this place. I have no idea what any of this means.”

“That’s fine!” Eijun beamed. “I mean –” he actually looked embarrassed for a second, as if he’d been graced with some flash of situational awareness- “I dunno about that part. Maybe I heard it wrong. But we should still be friends, at least.”

Haruichi gave a shaky laugh, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “Alright. I don’t see why not.”

Eijun was still studying him with those bright eyes of his, head tilted and gaze curious, intrigued. Haruichi fidgeted a little, noticing the freckles scattered across Eijun’s cheeks and the bridge of his nose. After a short while Eijun sat up, grinning and telling Haruichi they should go outside and see all the other palace residents to decide what to do next.

Haruichi followed him, mouth curved into a little smile of his own. Maybe this won’t be so bad, he thought.

Matsuoka Rin/Nanase Haruka, Free!

no tags

Edited 2016-08-03 23:38 (UTC)

Threaded | Flat

Page 17 of 24

Bonus Round 5: Myth & Lore

FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, G

FILL: Team Aldini Takumi/Yukihira Souma,G

FILL: Team Nishinoya Yuu/Tanaka Ryuunosuke, G

FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, E

FILL: Team Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, G

Re: FILL: Team Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, G

FILL: Team Aldini Takumi/Yukihira Souma,G

FILL: Team Kanzaki Miki/Tachibana Aya, G

Re: FILL: Team Kanzaki Miki/Tachibana Aya, G

FILL: Team Kanzaki Miki/Tachibana Aya, G

FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, E

FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, G

FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, G

FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, G

FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, G

FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, G

FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, G

FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, G

FILL: TEAM Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, T

FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, G

Re: FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, G

FILL: TEAM Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, G

FILL: TEAM Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, G

FILL: Team Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, G

FILL: Team Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, G

FILL: team Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, G

FILL: Team Kominato Ryousuke/Kuramochi Youichi, G

Fill: Team Matsuoka Rin/Nanase Haruka, G