Bonus Round 5: Myth & Lore

[referees]

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!

Comments

Re: FILL: TEAM IMAIZUMI SHUNSUKE/NARUKO SHOUKICHI, G

[prillalar]

Oh, my heart! This is lovely. <3

Re: FILL: TEAM IMAIZUMI SHUNSUKE/NARUKO SHOUKICHI, T

[prillalar]

Oh my god, this is everything. Sanada, especially, is so regal. His expression and his hair and his clothes! I wish he looked like that in the manga.

Re: FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, G

[rurounikristin]

I am going to die from how great this is <3

Re: FILL: TEAM IMAIZUMI SHUNSUKE/NARUKO SHOUKICHI, G

[winterstuck]

thank you!

Re: FILL: TEAM KYOUTANI KENTAROU/YAHABA SHIGERU, G

[rurounikristin]

ALI THIS IS BEAUTIFUL

Re: FILL: TEAM IMAIZUMI SHUNSUKE/NARUKO SHOUKICHI, T

[winterstuck]

i'm really happy you like jade emperor!sanada and think he looks regal <3 (now i'm imagining him playing tennis with all those tassels and cloth haha~)

FILL: TEAM KOZUME KENMA/KUROO TETSUROU, G

[hapaxlegomenon]

Fukutomi Juichi & Kinjou Shingo; Yowamushi Pedal

Word count: 600
Tags: Possible implied death

Fukutomi’s leaves fan out around him, dancing in the sunlight, and he stretches from the tips of his topmost branches down to the smallest roots, deep in the soft, moist earth. He feels the warmth of the sun, tastes the sweet-bitter soil, feels the curl of autumn wind against his cragged bark. Fukutomi has stood in this place, silent and strong, for almost one thousand years. His reach is broad and his roots stretch wide and deep. With the fading of the summer sun, his fanlike leaves turn golden and they rustle with a dry, melancholy timbre. Squirrels and songbirds scratch softly against his bark, in their hurried, brief businesses, and Fukutomi loves every one of them. He has seen countless generations born and died among his branches, and he is proud to be their protector.

One creature draws his interest more than any other. It’s a child, a boy, with wide, solemn eyes and close-cropped hair. Fukutomi first meets him when he is very young, in the spring. The boy smiles and runs to him and flutters his tiny human fingers across the grooves in Fukutomi’s bark. It’s gentle as a rainstorm kiss, and Fukutomi curves a subtle branch towards him.

The boy returns, day after day, and he grows bolder. Soon, his touches are surer, his grip bolder, and he uses sneaker-toes and clever fingers to climb up into Fukutomi’s branches. His feet scrabble and sometimes they catch and break Fukutomi’s bark, but he doesn’t mind.

Fukutomi helps the boy climb high, high into him, and the first time he laughs it sounds like a rainbow.

The boy grows taller, and his laughter crackles and deepens, to echo a river over rounded stones, and he continues to visit Fukutomi. Fukutomi feels a familiar hand on the exposed ridge of his root, one summer day, and he pulls the largest part of his spirit to wrap around him, warm and protective. The boy is there, and he sits where Fukutomi has carefully shaped an alcove, just for him, worn smooth and comfortable for his boy. He reads books, and taps out words of his own on a clever-bright tablet, and sometimes he’ll read aloud to Fukutomi, confident over the books and halting and careful with his own words. Fukutomi breathes them in like carbon dioxide, and exhales them in calmness and affection and inspiration.

Fukutomi loves his boy, like he loves all the little creatures that make their homes around him. He protects his boy from the wind and rain, keeps him warm in the chill autumn and cool in the cicada heat of summer. At the changing of the seasons he gifts his boy in showers of golden leaves that carpet the ground like the scales of a giant fish, gives tiny buds of life in the first spring suns. When the boy carves his name into Fukutomi’s bark with a knife, Fukutomi bears it with patience, and refuses to let his sap bleed. When the boy traces the writing with an apologetic thumb, Fukutomi shades him from the sun and allows the mark to scar.

It isn’t until one cold winter morning, when the birds and scampering creatures are absent and silent and the world is quiet with snow, that Fukutomi realizes he has not seen his boy. He thinks back, in long seasons, to spring sunrises and autumn sunsets.

Fukutomi has guarded this place for nearly one thousand years, and generations of tiny creatures have grown and died around him. In the broad aloneness of winter, he lets a few sap tears drip down his trunk.

FILL: TEAM MATSUOKA RIN/NANASE HARUKA, G

[fullofjoy]

Kissing I... guess...

Life Is Strange AU based off that one moment where you can choose to kiss Chloe or not (and can rewind time afterwards and choose differently if you want).

Fill: Team Grandstand, G

[yrindor]

Midorima Shintarou & Takao Kazunari, Kuroko no Basuke
Tags: no tags, Changeling Midorima, Druid Takao, Kitsune
Wordcount: 1663 words

The first time Takao sees it is during practice on day their first year of high school. Ootsubo finally hits his breaking point when Midorima's lucky item for the day is a Miyu Miyu doll, and he orders Midorima to leave it in his locker for the duration of practice. Of course, that leads to Miyaji loudly lamenting the loss of his love as Midorima blames the lack of his lucky item for every failed pass or missed shot, and Ootsubo just keeps glaring at the both of them.

Eventually, Midorima can't take it anymore and declares he's going to go practice his three-pointers by himself. It's as he takes his first shot that Takao see it; it's only a brief flash out of the corner of his eye, but it's enough for him to notice something decidedly not-human about his teammate.

He looks up in surprise, but whatever it was is long gone, and all he sees is the teammate he's used to.

But he knows what he saw. He's a druid-in-training after all, and even his Hawk Eye is nothing compared to the Sight.

He starts watching Midorima more closely after that, but it's not until several months later that he sees that strange flash for the second time. He goes to pick Midorima up before school like usual, but his teammate is running uncharacteristically morning, so he lets himself in to see what's causing the delay.

He finds Midorima in the kitchen with his sister arguing over headbands. He's holding a blue one, apparently Cancer's lucky item for the day, and his sister is trying to trade him for an orange one, since she was planning on wearing the blue one. Takao watches the argument for a couple of minutes before finally pointing out that they'll be late to their math exam if they don't hurry.

Midorima glares at his sister once more, but he ultimately gives in and takes the orange headband instead of the blue. His little sister has always been one of his biggest weaknesses, and he even waits until they're halfway down the street before calling her a long string of less-than-complimentary names.

They're halfway to school when Takao sees the same flash of something inhuman again just as Midorima demands they stop at the convenience store so that he can purchase a proper blue headband before the exam. Again it's only there for a split second before it fades, but Takao notices, and he files that information away for later too.

It's not until the third time it happens, several months later, that the pieces finally fall into place. It's a Sunday morning, and somehow he's been dragged into Midorima's hunt for the day's lucky item, which of course is a rather obscure kitchen implement. They're on their third antique store now, and Midorima's frustration is beginning to show.

They reach the end of the row, and Takao sees the same flash out of the corner of his eye. Unlike the previous times though, it doesn't fade immediately. He looks up, and his teammate's features have been replaced by a set that would be immediately recognizable to anyone who's read the old fairy tales. Midorima's ears are pointed now, matching his needlelike teeth, and his eyes are yellow with a cat's slit pupils. Takao bites back a gasp of surprise as he finds himself face-to-face with a fae changeling.

Then, Midorima exclaims, "Found it!" and holds up an olive spoon triumphantly, and he's back to looking like his usual self, all traces of his fae nature hidden once more.

"Shin-chan," Takao asks, "how long have you been following Oha Asa?"

"Longer than I remember."

"Who first started giving you your lucky items then?"

"My grandmother. Apparently one day when I was only a couple of months old, she came over to visit, and then left immediately and came back with Cancer's lucky item for the day. According to my parents she came by every morning with a new lucky item for me until I was old enough to start getting them myself."

"What's she like, Shin-chan?"

"Interesting. She used to be a shrine maiden, and after the War she spent a couple of years at a temple in Ireland as part of a goodwill exchange. And then she came back here and had my mother. Why all the questions, Takao?"

"Ummm,…." Takao stalls as he tries to figure out where to even begin. "Why don't we go back outside?"

"It's unlike you to be at a loss for words, Takao," Midorima says once they've left the shop.

"Have you ever heard of changelings, Shin-chan?" Takao asks.

"The fairies that were supposedly traded for human babies?"

"Yeah, those."

"Of course I've heard of them, Takao. What does that have to do with anything?"

"What if I told you those stories were real?"

Midorima blinks in confusion. "Nonsense," he says. "Fairy stories are just that—stories. We've come up with rational explanations for much of the supposed 'magic' in them, and we're still looking for the rest."

"They're not just stories, Shin-chan," Takao says, knowing he's going to be fighting an uphill battle. "Look, watch this." There's a flowering bush next to the sidewalk, and he wraps his hand around one of the budding branches. Taking a deep breath, he reaches for the magic that lays in the earth and draws it up into the plant; his hand glows a faint green as he coaxes the flowers into bloom. "See, Shin-chan?"

Midorima is silent for a long minute as he tries to process what he's witnessing. "There's no such thing as magic," he says finally. "It's a clever trick of some sort; I'm not sure how you did it, but somehow you convinced the plant to rapidly accelerate the growing process, probably by release of some sort of anti-inhibitory factor—"

"It's magic, Shin-chan," Takao interrupts, "whether you choose to believe in it or not."

"There's no such thing as magic," Midorima counters firmly. "Everything has a rational explanation."

Takao sighs. His teammate is remarkably stubborn sometimes, but he needs to convince him, and soon.

"You know the park behind your house?" he says. "Meet me there tonight at dusk."

"I don't see the—"

"Please, Shin-chan."

"Fine," Midorima finally concedes.

They part ways soon after that, and Takao spends the rest of the afternoon preparing. He knows what he wants to do; he just hopes it will be enough. He's already sitting in the grass with a large basin of water he dragged from home when Midorima arrives.

"What's the meaning of this?" Midorima asks as he sits beside Takao, clearly annoyed at having been dragged away from his normal evening routine.

"There's something else I didn't tell you this morning, Shin-chan. I...you...you're a changeling."

"I'm what? Are you sure you aren't ill?"

"I'm sure, Shin-chan. Please, try to believe me," Takao says desperately. Far off in the distance he can hear laughter that chimes like bells and the shrill cry of a horn. He's been hearing them since the minute he'd seen the fae within Midorima. The full Seelie Court is turning out, and Takao knows they're coming, all he can hope is that it doesn't turn into a Hunt.

"I thought it might help if you saw it for yourself," he continues, rushing frantically through the words. "That's why I brought this. With the right magic, mirrors can reflect more than just physical appearances, and water is inherently a mirror of sorts. I enchanted it to reflect your true self, so you should be able to see. The Seelie Court is most powerful at twilight, so the effect will be strongest if you look now.

"Fine," Midorima grumbles, but it's clear he still thinks this is some sort of elaborate joke.

Then he looks into the enchanted mirror and finds himself face-to-face with the same fae creature Takao had seen that morning.

"There must be some sort of trick of the light," he says as he backs away from the basin, but he no longer sounds so sure. "And if I were a changeling, wouldn't I know what I had done? So why do I only feel human?"

"I'm not entirely sure myself," Takao admits, "but I think someone meddled with the fae's intent. Or rather, I think your grandmother somehow used your lucky items to stop the fae from spiriting you away completely."

"My grandmother?" Midorima asks incredulously. "She couldn't—"

Any objection he may have been about to raise is cut short by the fox fire that suddenly ignites on the other side of the field.

"So my secret comes out at last," says a woman's voice from the center of the blinding white flames.

"Grandmother?" Midorima whispers.

"You're a bright one, druid boy," the voice continues as the fox fire coalesces into a many-tailed kitsune, "but perhaps not bright enough. You hear them coming, don't you? Better Seelie than Unseelie, but do you really believe you can face the entire Seelie Court, and you no more than a novice yourself?"

Takao swallows hard. He knows he's in way over his head, but he's not going to let them take Midorima without a fight.

"I suppose there's no helping it," the kitsune says. Takao's having a hard time keeping track of her tails, but he counts at least five.

"I leave Shintarou to you, young druid boy," she continues. "Leave the Faerie Queen and her ilk to me; I've bested her before, and I'll gladly do so again. The Fair Folk like to think they're the silver-tongued tricksters, but they have nothing on us kitsune."

Takao needs no further urging, and he gladly steps back next to Midorima, who is shaking and alarmingly pale.

"They are not going to take you from me," Takao whispers fiercely as he opens himself to the forces of nature. "I love you," he says, and the ground underfoot roars with power as his feelings reverberate through it.

FILL: TEAM FURUYA SATORU/MIYUKI KAZUYA, E

[tsunderekita]

Furuya Satoru/Miyuki Kazuya, Arakita Yasutomo/Miyuki Kazuya, hints of Oikawa Tohru/Miyuki Kazuya (Daiya/Yowapeda/Haikyuu)
warnings: body transformation/body horror, magic genital transformation, open relationship, mention of dog dick
words: 4,767

"We're stocked up," Chris confirmed. "But are you certain you don't want the Incubi dosage?"

"Very certain," Miyuki answered, firmly, although he was extremely not. No sense in showing that ambivalence to his doctor and former T.A., though. If he chickened out later, he could just make up some excuse about Furuya knocking over the bottle and come back for a different scrip.

But also, he had no actual intention of chickening out. The uncertainty was part of what pushed him. He'd let a certain colleague of his --the one who'd sent him the egg that left him without a dick in the first place-- get a few too many over on him by now, and the only way to come out ahead again was to stop refusing to play this game and start playing it intelligently.

Which meant getting a vagina, somehow. Look, life in the Fuck Dimension was weird.

Read the rest on AO3

FILL: Team Azumane Asahi/Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, G

[putsch]

haikyuu!! - ushijima & daichi & oikawa & kuroo & bokuto & moniwa
6 cosfill images, rule 63, witch au

generally, a witch coven is a group that remains at 1.

witches of the earth, the north, the east, the irons and of the skies like to stay apart.







but when the witch of heavens calls you to order...



something is amiss.
and they always come to call.

FILL: TEAM TACHIBANA MAKOTO/YAMAZAKI SOUSUKE, T

[granada]

Tachibana Makoto/Yamazaki Sousuke, Free!

minor character death
word count: 755

Achilles!Sousuke and Patrolocus!Makoto AU

As a baby, Sousuke's mother bathed him in the River Styx. She held on to him by his right shoulder so he wouldn't float downstream. Being bathed in the River Styx made him invulnerable, save for spot on his shoulder that his mother held him by.

"You will be a fighter," she said to him as he grew up.

"You will be the greatest fighter the world has ever seen."

Sousuke only nodded. It did not matter to him. He was strong, even for a child. He could be a fighter.

He can be a fighter.

>

"You don't like fighting."

Sousuke watches his friend Makoto train. He sits and watches as Makoto strikes the target over and over again until he drops the sword. Makoto doesn't say anything. He just stands there, taking deep breaths, trying to catch his breath. Makoto tried to hide it, but Sousuke could see it in the way that Makoto held his sword. Makoto tried to hold the sword as far away from his body as he could. Sousuke could tell that Makoto was afraid of it.

"No, not really."

Sousuke just hummed in response before standing up. He walks towards his friend and Makoto averts his gaze, looking away from him. Makoto's afraid of the sword, but there's something more he's afraid of. He's afraid of what Sousuke will say to him, that Sousuke won't want to be his friend anymore after this. Sousuke waits a moment before he bends over to pick up the fallen sword. The hilt is still warm from where Makoto was holding it. He tightens his grip on the sword.

He wants Makoto to look at him and not look away.

"Then why do you fight?"

There's no answer at first, then Makoto reaches out to take the sword back from Sousuke. For a moment, his hand covers Sousuke's and he forgets to breathe. But then the moment passes and Sousuke lets go, giving it back to Makoto.

"Because you do."

Makoto looks back up at Sousuke and behind all the fear in his eyes, Sousuke sees determination.

"Because of me?"

Makoto strikes at the target once more, embedding the sword in it's wood and Sousuke feels his heart stop.

"I don't care that you can't get hurt. If you're fighting, I'll worry. But if I'm fighting with you, then I won't."

Sousuke's speechless. He feels a redness on his face that he can't will away. He coughs and turns his head to the side to get himself back under control before looking back at Makoto.

"Well, if you're going to fight, then you're going to have to fix how you hold your sword."

>

"What are you doing, Makoto?"

"I'm sizing you for armor."

"Why are you doing that? I can't get hurt."

"It's for your shoulder."

"Just my shoulder?"

"Yeah, just your shoulder."

>

It's in the middle of a battle that Sousuke realizes something.

Makoto is still afraid of his sword. He's afraid to kill, but he does so anyway. For as long as he holds the sword in his hand, Makoto forgets who he is.

He becomes a fighter.

It's exciting to watch, Makoto running someone through with a sword. But Sousuke loves it even more when the battle is over. When all is said and done, Makoto goes back to who he is. He removes the helmet and he looks at his blood covered sword with a sad smile. No matter how many battles he's fought in, no matter how many men he's killed, there's no changing who Makoto really is.

Sousuke wants to protect that at all costs.

He's so caught in this realization that he almost doesn't notice the fighter coming his way. Before he can even think about raising his sword, Makoto is at his side, his sword buried deep into the gut of the fighter. Sousuke can only stare at the gentle face being consumed with pure hatred.

Makoto pulls out his sword and the fighter falls.

"You alright there, Sousuke?"

"Yeah... Yeah, I'm fine."

Sousuke pulls himself back together. He claps Makoto on the shoulder and gives him a grin.

"Thanks, Makoto."

They go back to fighting, side by side, like they always do.

After the battle, Sousuke pulls Makoto into his tent and, still covered in blood and grime, kisses him.

Makoto kisses him back and his heart soars more than when he's fighting. Makoto kisses like he fights. It's strong and fierce and Sousuke lets himself be pushed back onto his bedroll.

>

"Makoto, you fight to protect me, right?"

"I do, yeah."

"Have you ever wondered why I fight?"

"Because you want to."

"Because I want to protect you.

FILL: TEAM IMAIZUMI SHUNSUKE/NARUKO SHOUKICHI, G

[dynamite]

Kanzaki Miki / Miyahara, Yowapeda
no tags
graphics&etc fill

Miyahara = chiharu
Miki = dynamite

Re: FILL: Team Azumane Asahi/Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, G

[dynamite]

AHHHH I LOVE THIS, I LOVE THIS IDEA, I LOVE THIS ENTIRE (GESTURES WILDLY AT THE CAPTAINS BEING A COVEN OF WITCHES)!!!!! and also I love the body language you have for each of them.... this entire thing appeals to me so much lmao

Re: FILL: TEAM IMAIZUMI SHUNSUKE/NARUKO SHOUKICHI, G

[dynamite]

(But Kindaichi has not cried in over a year, and when Oikawa finally uses the last piece of his own heart to mend the three boys who broke each other apart so terribly, Iwaizumi sighs, and patches up Oikawa's threadbare heart with a full half of his own.)

(Oikawa leaves the town after that, with the first of the autumn winds.)

FILL: TEAM KURAMOCHI YOUICHI/MIYUKI KAZUYA, T

[tripsh]

iwaizumi hajime/oikawa tooru, haikyuu!!
mentions of injury and death, blood, iwaizumi's a sailor and oikawa's a mermaid
poetry, 32 lines

your ship crashes,
splits and splinters in a storm,
useless, leaving you
stranded.

you're injured.
expect to die.
a myth, a story.
'renowned sailor lost at sea, left to die.'

there's blood pouring from your stomach,
shallow breaths escaping your lips--just barely.
and that's when you see him
along the blurred edges of your fading consciousness.

when you wake,
he's the first you see.
radiant, bright,
beautiful.

and he touches you,
with hands like your own,
but floats in the water around this abandoned island
with the fin of a creature you'd only heard about in story books, legends.

you don't understand why he helped you,
why he saved you,
but you've got nowhere to go,
and he's got somewhere you can stay.

the last thing you expected
that day you took your ship out
was to meet someone like this, missing piece of you,
you never thought you'd fall so hard.

but now,
you've found each other.
and you'll take this chance,
continue to make it your own.

FILL: team kominato ryousuke/kuramochi youichi, G

[kuramochi]

no major tags, graphics fill

chriszaizen orpheus & eurydice fill... i wanted to do More with this but i can't redraw their clothing like i would have preferred bc i can't draw, sob

FILL: TEAM KURAMOCHI YOUICHI/MIYUKI KAZUYA, T

[tripsh]

iwaizumi hajime/oikawa tooru, haikyuu!!
major character death, implied drowning, the story of icarus
poetry, 33 lines

you say,
you promise won't fly too low,
won't fly to high.
will remain in the middle. safe.

but then,
but then before either of us knows it,
you're soaring toward the sun.
higher, higher, higher.

(and i can't blame you.
i can't, because there's no one brighter,
no one who fits better up in the sky,
accompanying the sun.)

but your mistake,
your pride and thoughtless infalibility
gets the better of you.
and you fall.

fall,
fall,
fall down.

and i try.
i try to save you.
to pull your sinking body,
from the sea.

(but it's too late.)

and as i pull your heavy body to shore,
cradle you in my arms--
tears threatening to fall,
as i curse this turn of events--
i know,

i know i want to remember you
as you were in those last moments,
bright, as close to the sun as anyone could get.
and that's the memory i'll keep close to forget about the rest.

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

[hqqt]

OH NO THIS IS ADORABLE WHAT THE HECK SARAH

FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA, G

[krankran]

Maki Nishikino & Nozomi Tojo
warnings: None
Words: 405
-
The power of words, the power of belief.
-

Maki doesn’t believe in spirits. Or ghosts. Or fortune telling. She never did, and no amount of telling her otherwise would change her mind.
So Nozomi decided to take her own approach and turn it on her; discuss a concept that, she thinks, Maki would at least be willing to listen to. Maybe even acknowledge. Not because she wanted to push anything onto Maki that she didn’t believe in. but because Nozomi was never one to shy away from a challenge.

-
“I don’t believe in it.” Maki repeats stubbornly as she sits in the student council room. “And there’s nothing you can say that’s going to change my mind, you know.”

Nozomi hums as she pours the tea, “I would be lying if I said that’s not what I wanted to talk about.” She insists, sliding a teacup across the desk toward Maki. “But I’m not here to change your mind. Maybe just give you a different thought on the matter?”

“Isn’t that the same as trying to change my mind?” Maki shoots back, stubbornly refusing to touch the teacup.

Nozomi inclines her head slightly, still smiling, and this is enough for Maki to break eye contact, perhaps looks a little sheepish at her accusation.
“Belief is a powerful thing, you know.” Nozomi starts, “Have you heard the saying ‘A lie repeated often enough becomes reality? Haven’t you thought why that is? Because words are powerful. They’re tangible things that people believe in, depending on who delivers them and how.

Words can convince a person that they’re not in pain even if they are like a placebo. They can drive a person down, even if that person has an iron will. They can convince people to think one way when reality is another. They can change perspectives and lead entire armies. And even if, to us, the cause isn’t right, to them it is because they believe it.
And that, I think, is a sort of magic, wouldn’t you say?”

Maki is silent for a while, mulling over the words as she finally picks up her tea.

“Well… I suppose I can’t argue with that. Certain words in the hands of someone charismatic can certainly lead people and convince them, but I don’t think it’s anything like magic. It’s just human nature.”

“Ah but then.” Nozomi interrupts, “Isn’t that belief in yourself? Isn’t that also magic?”

Maki pulls a face and Nozomi almost laughs.

FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA, G

[krankran]

Teshima Junta & Unnamed Parent
Warnings: none
Words: 633
-
Old Wives’ tale: Eating crusts will make your hair curly
--

As a child, Junta hardly ate bread.

It wasn’t particularly strange, true, but melon bread on the way back from school was all but ignored, fruit sandwiches made in home ec. went untouched despite that they would otherwise be irresistible to small children. And if sweet kinds failed to tempt him, regular rolls and toast in the mornings were faced with a screwed up expression. On the odd occasion where he had to, he’d pick at the middle with an air of distaste until he could get his hands on something better. His mother had tried to make yakisoba bread once, and though he ate it; she could tell it was just out of politeness. Perhaps, she mused, he just didn’t like the texture of it. It would certainly explain why he was fine with crackers and flaky pastries. Or perhaps it was just the stubbornness of childhood, like his refusal to eat vegetables.

But as he progressed to elementary school, though his interest in sports perked up, he still didn’t have any taste for it. Carbohydrates were good for high energy sports (or so she read), and while she was more than happy to make extra bento for his after school practises, it would probably be easier for Junta just to carry sandwiches. Or any other kind of bread. Bread was easier to transport long distance, after all. And at that age, she wasn’t sure energy bars were necessarily good for Junta’s health.

She had asked him, on multiple occasions if his aversion to bread was because of anything in particular, something she could probably try to fix. But he simply shuffled his feet and gave her a non-committal answer. Which probably meant it was a Serious Problem, seeing as he didn’t try to sweet talk his way out of explaining himself.

Still, as his refusal to eat bread continued well into junior high, she wondered if maybe she needed to get to the bottom of this.

She did eventually manage to corner him into talking about it, one evening when her husband was out late, Kenta was occupied with the television in the living room and Junta glaring at his bell peppers still left on his plate.
He looked up, suspicious when she said he could leave them if he answered her question. And it seemed like his dislike for bell peppers outweighed his resistance to talk about his problems, and admitted he just didn’t like the crusts.

Because, apparently, they made his hair curly.

She willed her face not to change (even though she really wanted to laugh), and thought of asking ‘aren’t you a little too old to be paying attention to superstition?’. But neither would be a good for Junta; not laughing (he would assume she was laughing at him instead of the hilarity of the situation, and how cute her little boy still was) nor chiding him (even playfully. She already knew the pressure he held on his shoulders, even if he didn’t say anything.)

So instead she looked surprised, and she could see the tension melt off his shoulders as she exclaimed ‘Oh, really? I had no idea!’

She wondered, as he excused himself and left the table, if Junta didn’t like his hair how it was and was perhaps too shy to say anything about it since it was certainly something he had inherited from her. (For a brief moment, she was struck with the thought that he might be getting bullied for it. But Junta was nothing if popular at school, according to his teachers. So maybe it was just an issue of self image?)

But, well, at least she knew the reason. And even if she had to sort of blackmail him, at least he trusted her enough to say something about it.

FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA, G

[krankran]

Honoka Kousaka & Nozomi Tojo
warnings: none
words: 497
-
In which Honoka has some incorrect assumptions about being a witch.
----

“I’ve always wondered.” Honoka pipes up one evening, as they’re pouring over crackled old tomes in pursuit of study. “Do we really have to get naked and dance around at midnight?”

Nozomi doesn’t spit out the mouthful of tea she just sipped, but does start slightly. “Not unless you really want to.” She replies levelly, placing her cup down. “It doesn’t really do anything that you can’t get with your clothes on you know.”

“Ehhh? Really?” Honoka looks a little put out. Did she want to do it that badly? “But there’s this article on the net that says it increases your magical ability!”

“Well, would you rather believe stuff on the net that anyone could write, or actual spellbooks that are hundreds of years old?” Nozomi asks, patting the tomes. “There’s a lot of stuff out there that you really shouldn’t believe without proper evidence. You’ll never become a witch that way.”

Honoka pauses, frowns, and pulls out her notebook.
“So what about Fairy circles? Do we do that?” She asks, flipping open a page with countless scribbles.

“Not unless you want to actually talk to a fairy.” Nozomi replies, “But they’re kind of fussy unless you give them a present first.”

“Fly on broomsticks?” Honoka asks.

“They’re really uncomfortable.” Nozomi points out. “It’s much easier to just fly.”

“Have familiars?”

“Well, only if you really want one. It’s not really necessary, and they don’t really do anything.”

“Making potions in a big cauldron?”

“That’s not a very economical way of making a potion. Unless you’re making a lot of it for some reason. You can make a single serving with just a regular pot.”

“Bathing in virgins blood?!”

“That’s a common misconception about vampires. And also very illegal.”

Honoka wilts, flops over the table and groans into her notebook. “So we don’t do anything fun at all?”

“Modernisation isn’t a bad thing.” Nozomi chides, wondering what on earth would be fun about bathing in blood of all things. “But half the things people believed in weren’t true in the first place. Even broomsticks, they’re drawn the wrong way around in most cases.”

“Really?” Honoka shoots up at that, looking intrigued. “So the bristly bit was at the front?”

“Yep. You wouldn’t be able to steer it otherwise!” Nozomi replies. “Though, in terms of aerodynamics, it probably made sense why people thought it was the other way around.”

Honoka frowns at this, and Nozomi wonders if she’s still feeling down about all this.

“Well, but we can still make potions. And cast spells. Even summon demons if we want to.” Though that kind of magic was far too high class for either of them to use right now. “But you know, you’re not just learning magic to have fun, are you?”

Honoka freezes, refuses to meet Nozomi’s eyes and laughs. “O… of course not! Having magic is a big responsibility and I… should use it to help others, right?”

“Well as long as you understand that.”

FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA, T

[krankran]

Koga Kimitaka & Teshima Junta (breifly) & Aoyagi Hajime (breifly)
Warnings: Injury, mentions of Death
Words: 456

-
Lore: Either unimportant or critical parts of your life flash before your eyes when you’re about to die
-

It’s his eagerness that kills him, he thinks, as the front wheel of his bike hits the railing. It’s his nervousness too, he thinks as he watches the world flip while his bike stops, saved by the railing, and he keeps going.

-
”You always push yourself” Teshima had sighed, watching him finish his laps. “You should slow down and take it easy. Training hard is one thing, but nothing will come from being reckless.”
He’d dismissed his concerns then. But in hindsight, even if he hated to admit it, Teshima was probably right.

-
He went too fast, turned too late, the traction lost in a critical moment. He can see the faces of passing cyclists now, he’s flipped upside down and over the edge, and he sees their eyes widen in a second of realisation.
Time catches up to him for a moment, slamming him down hard on the side of the incline, throwing him back out into the air.

-
“Are you okay?” Hajime asked as he collapsed after his last ten kilometres. He’d done it, finished the laps well before anyone else, the other two dropping out completely.

“I’m fine.” He had responded, even though his legs felt like fire.
Hajime frowned, had wrapped an arm around his waist and let him lean on their shoulder all the way to the medical bay.

-
He hears something snap, but pain doesn’t register. He wonders if his mind is playing tricks on him, compensating and trying to make sense of what’s happening as the world continues to turn around him in a circle of dirt, sky, dirt, sky. He can taste bitterness in his mouth, and wonders if it’s disappointment. It takes another beat to realise it’s blood, splattered on the grass as he tumbles down the slope. His head bangs hard against the ground when he meets it, jagged rocks and clumps of grass and dirt interrupting his fall, and he’s suddenly dizzy and nauseous all at once.

-
”Kimitaka, right?”
The other first years were in front of him, the blonde one hiding behind the curly haired one, the latter holding out his hand.
“Let’s work hard this year!”
-

When he finally stops, time restarts. It hits him all at once, from the sting of scratched up legs to the jarring pain in his left shoulder. He can’t seem to lift his arms to check, to push his face out of the dirt, and he wonders if he’s dying.

There’s noise around him, but he finds himself unable to pick out words. Voices a garbled mess that he cannot respond to because his brain has disconnected from the rest of his body and he cannot move at all.
-

FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA, G

[krankran]

Toudou Jinpachi & Manami Sangaku
Warnings: None
Words: 1 067
--
Lore: If an item is kept near humans for a long time, it will develop a soul
--

Jinpachi was presented with the doll on his ninth birthday. It was old, dusty, and much bigger than he was. He recognised it however, from yellowed photographs in his parents room, and wondered how on earth it could still be around if it belonged to his grandfather. (And why his sister didn’t receive the doll instead. After all, she was older and surely, heirlooms passed to the oldest child, didn’t they?)

Still, a gift was a gift, no matter how strange, and heirlooms should be treated well. So it sat propped up in the corner of his room for some time before he actually paid any attention to it.

And noticed it’s eyes followed him across the room when he moved.

That in itself was surprising rather than shocking, and as he waved a light in front of it’s face and watched it’s eyes roll in their wooden sockets, he begins to wonder if it’s some sort of clockwork doll. The kind that were made back before even his grandfathers time, the type you don’t see too often anymore.

He tried to find the mechanism for the eyes, but the body didn’t have any grooves or lines that would suggest an opening, and the head seemed solid when he rapped at it. The mechanism must have been put in through the eye holes, he decides finally, and as he doesn’t particularly want to pry out the marbles to satisfy his own curiosity, he leaves it at that. He takes better care of it after that, brushes out it’s hair, cleans the dust from it’s clothes and sat it on a cushion instead of the floor.

The eyes still track him for a full year after that. Weird that the doll never needed winding up.

-
On his tenth birthday, he receives clothes from a relative. They’re far too big, and not as stylish as he would like, but accepts them without complaint. And of course, the clothes find their way onto the doll.

Stripping it out of it’s ancient kimono, Jinpachi sets to work re-dressing the wooden doll, it’s eyes tracking him all the while. The doll looks refreshed in the new clothes, he decides, but finds he’s snagged the leg of his pants on the doll’s fingers as he tries to move away.

Weird, he thinks as he untangles himself, he was sure the hand had been balled up into a fist before.

-
While Jinpachi doesn’t really move the doll around a great deal, he more than makes up for it by talking to it. He farewells it when he leaves, greets it when he returns. It’s a nice change from just talking out aloud to himself, filling the silence of the living side of the onsen on the rare occasion he isn’t cycling, at school or helping out around the inn.

So the first time the Doll makes a sound, he doesn’t notice. He’s in the middle of reading his English textbook out aloud to try and wrap his head around the foreign words. It’s a low whisper that continues for the time Jinpachi’s talking, but goes unheard.

After that however, Jinpachi feels like he’s hearing things when he leaves in the mornings, when he returns in the afternoons. But perhaps that’s just his mind playing tricks on him.

-
He’s taken out for the day on his eleventh birthday. And when he returns, exhausted and elated and greets the doll, he hears a crackling response. A crackle of sound, broken and warped but definitely, definitely a voice.
”Ok-a-er-i.”

He stared, because the rational part of his brain was more confused than afraid. And before it could catch up, he greeted it again. And again, it responded.

He moved the doll into the storage room, hands shaking.

-
Jinpachi decided to do some digging because even though it was creepy, it was still given to him. So he’d asked his father about it, in a rare moment where the other was sitting down. His father knew about the eyes, but seemed wholly excited about the prospect of a voice.

Once they’ve retrieved the doll and his father greets it (and looks overjoyed at the response he receives in a cracking voice), he explains the doll was given to him by his father, and probably his father’s father before that.
And it didn’t take Jinpachi long to piece it together. The Toudou family was nothing if traditional with a long history in Hakone. And where history lay, so did superstition.

Jinpachi was sent off with the doll, and as he sat it back in the corner of his room, he’s only glad whatever sort of soul the doll had manifested, wasn’t a malicious one. (Though, having his very own spirit was kind of strange.)

-
His talks with the doll were no longer one sided. It responded, occasionally, parroting phrases that it had probably picked up from Jinpachi reading aloud. Things like ‘Bike’ and ‘Alive’ and ‘Radish’. Even if the last one was kind of funny, Jinpachi endeavoured to be a good teacher, and held up flashcards for the doll, watching as its eyes darted from card to card, as the crackling voice attempted to repeat after him.

When he leaves for school nowadays, he sits the doll at the window looking out over the hillside. The doll begins to pick up other sounds, chatter from their guests or other passer-by’s, and learns things that Jinpachi never taught him how to say. The doll seems to be coming together in it’s speech, and one night, out of its own free will, remarks at how lovely the mountains look in the starlight.

Another thing Jinpachi has noticed about the doll, was that it didn’t react to touch at all. If Jinpachi snuck up behind it, out of it’s line of vision, it wouldn’t even notice he was there. Even if he was prodding at the wooden back or legs; it couldn’t feel anything. It made sense, considering it was just a soul inhibiting a shell, but it was still a strange concept. But at least that means the doll would never feel anything like pain or discomfort.

Jinpachi continues to teach the doll for better part of a year, and by his twelfth birthday, the doll wishes him all the best for the upcoming year.

Around that time, Jinpachi’s also taken to calling the doll ‘Manami’.
-

FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA, G

[krankran]

Teshima Junta & Aoyagi Hajime
Warnings: None
Words: 978
-
Based on a Precure cast talk segment where it was asked why magical girls don’t get attacked mid-transformation. I love this theory to bits
-------

“You should just charge in and transform next to the bad guys.”
The observation had come out of nowhere, with no premise considering they had just settled down to do their modern Japanese homework. Aoyagi raises an eyebrow wordlessly as Teshima twirls his pen between his fingers, clearly occupied with other thoughts.

“I mean.” He continued, “When you transform you kind of just hover there, right? It’s not wind or levitation, you’re kind of just hanging up there in this bright beam of light.”

Teshima turns suddenly, digging though the backpack casually tossed onto Aoyagi’s bed. “So it kind of got me thinking, that if it was light, it’d be really crazy strong. Which would explain why everyone kinda just stands around watching, you know?”

He pulls a battered notebook that Aoyagi’s seen a thousand times; because even if Teshima didn’t have any kind of magical power, his intellect was second to none. Of course he kept notes on them all.
“Light in general does press on us a little, but it’s so weak we kind of don’t notice. Or we’re just so used to it, we don’t notice.” The notebook is open now, and Aoyagi can see lines upon lines of hastily scribbled numbers and kanji that make their head spin.

“I mean, if we look at it seriously, the pressure’s only about the weight of mosquito or something. So whatever light is holding you up would have to be crazy strong. The energy the light should produce to be able to hold you up there would be something like two billion kilowatts per meter squared. I don’t even know how you can stand that kind of pressure.”
Aoyagi opens their mouth, but Teshima seems to anticipate their response. “Yeah, I thought about invincibility. Though, I don’t really have a lot of data to prove it. I mean, no one has ever attacked one of you mid transformation before; or even thrown anything into your beams of light. But, well..” He pauses, frowning at the page in front of him.

“I would think that if anything even stepped into that light, they’d be totally dissolved or something. Blown to pieces. Totally evaporated.”
Aoyagi has admittedly never thought about that before. Then again, they don’t really think about the workings of their power, just that it’s there and it does what it’s supposed to. There was no use confusing themselves trying to figure out why.

But of course, Teshima would be the type to pick it apart like that. Though, Aoyagi couldn’t really fault Teshima for that, expecially if it provided more insight and better battle strategies.

“Do you want to test it then?” They ask, not really as a question because it’s obvious Teshima expected nothing less.

“After homework.” They add, trying not to snort at how disappointed the other looks.

--
They end up cycling out to Chiba port park in the very early hours of the morning, only because for lack of anywhere else close by to test Teshima’s theory out. It was early enough that the area was pretty much empty of people, so even if it wasn’t really the best place to be doing this, regular people never really noticed the transformation until after it was midway though (another thing Teshima had observed. No one flipped out over people randomly transforming, or bright beams of light. They acted as if it was normal, but he supposes in a way, it kind of was)
“Alright.” Teshima says as they walk out to the middle of the park. “Your transformation lasts about twenty to thirty seconds, so I’ll throw everything I have at it and test our hard light theory!”

Aoyagi nods and gets started, but takes care to actually pay attention this time around. And Teshima’s right, it’s not a wind or a presence, the light actually lifts them up and disintegrated their clothes. Which might support Teshima’s theory that they might be invincible during this time, they mused as ribbons and cloth appeared out of nowhere.

Which was another thing they suddenly wondered; where did this stuff some from? Did the light dissolve their regular clothes and reconstruct them at the molecular level into their magical outfit? Surely, the cloth must come from somewhere, was there a dressmaker somewhere in Chiba who always ended up with less stock then they recorded?

Their transformation ended, the light faded and they were set gently back down onto the ground. They turn and quirk and eyebrow at Teshima, who seems so excited he’s waving about his hands frantically.

“We were right! Everything literally disintegrated!” He exclaims. “Everything I threw in! Rocks, a notebook, heck even a lighter. Completely destroyed!”
Aoyagi nods, because even if they can’t really appreciate how pumped Teshima is about the discovery, they can appreciate their enthusiasm.

“And you? Were you floating? Did it feel hot? Did you get hurt?” Teshima continues, “Ah, but at least we know now nothing can touch you when you’re transforming. It’s like a 100% shield!

Aoyagi nods. So it would definitely work if they just run into enemy territory?

But of course, Teshima catches himself before they can say anything. “Of course, this isn’t licence to be reckless.” He scolds as Aoyagi has the decency to look guilty. “But it’s a good thing to know. For the future, anyway.”

They head home after that, Aoyagi still in lace and mirrors as they mount their bikes and head back. Teshima rides behind them for a while, earlier enthusiasm oddly muted, before he pipes up.

“You mirrors didn’t dissolve in that light, huh? Do you think we could make a refraction device and direct that light mid transformation?”

“Junta.” Aoyagi sighs, earning a chuckle in return.

“Right, right. Sorry.” He laughs. “I got too excited, huh?”

“Just a little” they smile. “Maybe we can think about it later.”