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

Rindou/ Tsukasa Food Wars: Shokugeki no Soma
Graphic Fill, references to Cannibalism, T

Edited 2016-07-24 21:53 (UTC)

Makoto/Sousuke, Free!

No tags

Here is the preview:

Click here for the gif set

Sousuke is a werewolf/alpha but he fell in love with Makoto, the son of hunters. Haru is part of his pack who worries about Sousuke's relationship with that human. I hope you'll like it~

Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, daiya no ace

kono bangumi wa goran no suponsaa no teikyou de okurishimasu:

kiki's delivery service au

magic, being sick
1253 words

“Wakana, there’s a job for us.” Sawamura calls out and the black cat leaps up and lands gracefully on his shoulder. She purrs, gently, and wraps her tail around his neck as an anchor.

“It’s a casserole,” Takishima says as Sawamura gingerly fits the plate into his bag, saran-wrapped and all. “Here’s the address and directions to get there by foot. I’m assuming you can fly over the buildings and find it that way, so I’ve written down what the house looks like as well.”

“Thanks!” Sawamura chirps and calls his broomstick easily with a sweep of his hand. “Bye!”

“There’s a storm on its way,” she calls out as he leaves, adjusting her glasses, “stay safe.”

**

Sawamura flies for ten minutes before he gets lost—Wakana shivers harder as she feels the storm approaching and Sawamura’s flying gets more desperate as he glances again and again for the white house.

The sky opens up and rain falls—Wakana meows mournfully and buries her now cold nose against his neck.

He’s drenched by the time that he arrives at the house, the slip of paper watered down with runny ink but he’s memorized the address due to how many times he had to look it up. Sawamura knocks twice and, while he waits, blows hot air onto Wakana’s fur. Her tail thwaps him in the cheek.

The door opens and Sawamura almost drops Wakana in shock—

“Miyuki Kazuya!” He yells out in surprise, face flushing slightly, and Miyuki stares at him, eyes blinking behind rectangular frames.

“The witch,” Miyuki says, adjusting his glasses. “I didn’t know that we called on you for help; I guess it makes sense that the order would be late if you were the one flying.”

Sawamura fumes while Miyuki wears a shit-eating grin, a hand on his hip. Wakana thwaps him again in the cheek and he lets go, allowing her to gracefully fall to the ground and curl protectively around his ankle.

“Well—come in; no one should be going out in this weather.” Miyuki takes a step back, opening the door wider for Sawamura to come in.

Sawamura reaches into his bag, pulling out the casserole and presenting dish to Miyuki. “No, thank you.”

Bewildered, Miyuki gingerly takes the dish. “Are you—are you seriously going to fly out in this weather? What about your body, idiot?”

“I’ll be fine,” Sawamura grits his teeth, his broomstick clenched in both hands now. Wakana jumps onto the end of it. “Sorry about the delay.”

“It’s not about the delay,” Miyuki huffs, “wait here.” He turns around and disappears into the house, leaving the doorway wide open for the rain to come in. Sawamura feels a bit bad but he’d rather be at home instead of around the infuriating bastard that—

is back in the end way, presenting him with a hot mug of milk and a little saucer of milk with a thin slice of salmon for Wakana.

“Come in,” Miyuki says, “unless you want to drink this outside?”

“I might want to,” Sawamura says hotly and waves his hand, the mug flies out of Miyuki’s grip and floats gently into his hands, the white liquid following shortly after without spilling a drop. The saucer floats down and Wakana drops off the broomstick to eat the slice of fish in three quick bits, lapping at the milk greedily. Sawamura chugs the milk, feeling it burn his throat, and then sends the mug and saucer floating back. Gingerly, Miyuki reaches out and grabs them both.

“Thank you,” Sawamura grumbles and mounts his broom, Wakana jumping up to sit in his lap.

“Be safe,” Miyuki’s furrowed his eyebrows and Sawamura doesn’t know why. “Don’t do anything reckless.”

“Bye, Miyuki Kazuya,” Sawamura yells.

Miyuki sighs something about his full name but Sawamura’s already taking off on his broom.

**

Sawamura catches a cold.

Takishima gives him medicine and tells him to stay indoors. So he lies in bed and objects start idly floating up. It takes effort to send them back down, so he just lets them float around. He hears her apologize saying she won’t take orders due to Sawamura having an illness—Sawamura apologizes for the inconvenience when she comes up to change the towel on his forehead.

“Don’t apologize,” Takishima says, pushing a lamp gently away when it floats too close to him for comfort. “It was my fault for sending you out in the rain. A friend of yours is downstairs.”

“Who?” Sawamura asks because even though he’s spent two weeks in this town already, he has yet to make friends. It must be because he moved to the city.

“Miyuki-kun; you delivered the casserole to him last night.” Takishima says as she tucks him in. “He said that he’s here to check up on you.”

“Why,” Sawamura responds and Takishima brushes his hair off of his forehead.

“Because he cares about you,” she smiles. “I need to step out for some groceries—he’ll watch over you while I’m gone.”

“Didn’t you say not to trust strangers?” Sawamura croaks out and the cup of water that Takishima gave him floats, does a spin, and dumps the rest of the water onto the floor.

“He’s not a stranger,” Takishima says and stands up. “I’ll send him up here with a mop; don’t give him too much trouble.”

Sawamura looks like he swallowed a lemon. She pats his cheek and stands up, heels clacking away as she heads down to the first floor.

“Thanks Rei-chan,” he hears Miyuki’s voice call out and footsteps that he can’t recognize climb up the stairs. He tries to stay awake and remain vigilant, even though Miyuki pisses him off and is probably hear to make fun of him, but he feels his eyes droop shut and his breathing even out.

**

He wakes up and groans in pain—his head still throbs with pain and blearily looks over.

Instantly, he sits up and clutches his head. He has enough thought to string together a garbled, “Miyuki Kazuya,” and the male in question looks over his book and raises an eyebrow.

“Hello to you too,” Miyuki says and turns the page, “after you passed out, everything that you had floating dropped to the ground.”

Sawamura gapes, feeling his face flush with embarrassment.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Miyuki shrugs, “are you feeling better, Sleeping Beauty? You drooled all over your pillowcase, by the way.”

Angrily, Sawamura rubs at his chin and feels dried saliva. Great.

“Dinner’s going to be ready in ten minutes. Are you hungry?”

“Somewhat,” Sawamura replies honestly.

Miyuki nods, closing his book. He stands up and extends a hand.

“Here, I’ll help you if you can’t walk by yourself.”

Sawamura scowls at his hand and gets up, stumbling due to his sudden lightheadedness. This is ridiculous, he says as much, and then stumbles over to the staircase.

“Oi,” Miyuki says and appears by his side, slinging his arm over his shoulders. “Don’t try to do this by yourself—that’s why I’m here.”

Shut up, Sawamura wants to say, but his tongue feels too heavy and his mind too hazy to speak. Instead, he leans against Miyuki and allows him to help him down the stairs.

**

During dinner, Sawamura’s chopsticks float away and he watches them go, feeling too lethargic to chase after it or call it back. He barely touched his food.

Miyuki stands up and grabs the chopsticks from midair, returning them to Sawamura’s hand. Takishima just smiles.

kuramochi youichi & Miyuki Kazuya & Sawamura Eijun, Daiya no Ace
supernatural au, no tags

WC: 456

“You know, I thought angels were the whole, ‘white and fluffy singing in choirs’ thing. Not..Asses.” Youichi scoffs, the arsenal of supernatural weapons rolling around in Baby’s trunk, Kazuya leaning against her polished sides. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. Try reading a book or two, more specifically, The Bible, towards the end where you see Armageddon. I’m a solider.”

Eijun laughs from inside the car, passenger door open and feet dangling outside, “Right right. Because according to you the end is here and we’re supposed to believe some tax accountant. Right? We’re hunters, we’re not stupid Miyuki Kazuya. IF that’s even your real name!!”

Kazuya pinches the bridge of his nose and huffs. “I raised you asses from perdition, I expect to be taken seriously.” Youichi rolls his eyes and stands up straight, the trunk slamming shut, “Then prove it. You just showed up and in our line of work, people who just show up out of nowhere tend to be the ones we kill and send back to Hell.” Eijun sticks out his tongue, agreeing with Youichi and swings his legs back inside the car, “Let’s go! I’m starving and I really don’t feel like getting my hands dirty. We have enough weirdos on our tail.” Youichi nods and makes his way to the drivers side, before heaving a loud sigh. “Get in the backseat and I swear if you do some weird shit I’m throwing you out on your ass and you can walk your way back to Heaven.”

Kazuya huffs, a little bristled and nods, quickly climbing into the car and settling in. “So now that I’m here, I want to tell you about your next case.”
“There isn’t one” Eijun snorts from the front.
“You’re about to get one, now listen” he reaches forward and tugs on Eijuns ear, earning a cackle from Youichi. “Have you ever heard of the trickster Gabriel?”

Youichi practically slams his foot on the breaks, the tires screeching as Baby skids to a stop on the shoulder, “NO. NO I’m DONE. We are not dealing with that ass anymore, I think I’ve lost and gained fifty years from him alone!”

Kazuya is too busy laughing in the backseat, Eijun’s hands braced forward on the dashboard and screeching at the angel as to why they’d even go after Gabriel again he wasn’t able to shit for a full week the last time he was caught in a time loop.

Youichi is still glaring daggers as one of the burner phones in the glove box starts to ring, the steady tune of, What is Love blaring from its tiny speakers.

“You’re the Devil.”
“You can call me Kazuya!”

Eijun just screeches louder.

Edited 2016-07-24 23:41 (UTC)

kuramochi youichi & sawamura eijun, daiya no ace
supernatural au, no major tags
WC 432

Youichi watches curiously as Eijun putters around the camp, easily chatting up a storm, the locals trusting his wide curious eyes and giving up all sorts of information. They’ve been a team for as long as he could remember, and he’d do anything to protect the kid from the real bad nasty stuff that went bump in the night. He sits up straighter as Eijun returns with two opened beer bottles, and a smile that can charm the pants off of anyone.

“So, it turns out that the alien abductions are happening more frequently and get this. They’ve actually become so frequent that they’ve become clockwork! The next one is going to be three days from now, and there’s even going to be a party.”

Youichi cackles and stretches out in the lawn chair, the stars twinkling above the various bonfires that have been lit up. “And I still think aliens aren’t whats causing the abductions. This is something more like, spirits that don’t want people camping on sacred ground. It is Route 66 after all.”

Eijun lets out a puff and simply raises the bottle to his lips, taking a slow drink. “When I suggested we have a vacation from the monsters, a haunted road trip along Route 66 wasn’t what i had in mind. I was thinking more like a baseball game, the beach--”

Youichi holds up his fingers, ticking them off, “Baseball game had demons as bookies, the beach had that hybrid octopus thing and you nearly drowned. The zoo had wendigos.”

“Okaaaaaayyy” Eijun drawls, “In my defense how was I supposed to know wendigos were snacking on the raw meat they give to the tigers!” Youichi stares, “They tried to push a kid into the lion cages!” Eijin waves a hand, “Details, details, but I still think this one is -- Hello?”

The elderly lady in front of them smiles wide and leans in with a whisper, “It’s not aliens. They’re faeries.” They blink at each other and then to the lady, “I’m sorry?” Eijun asks, leaning forward, charm raised ten fold. “Oh! they’re faeries, delightful little things. They don’t mean any harm though!”

Youichi is too confused to say anything as she leaves with a happy little wave and mingles once more amongst the crowd and then turns sharply to Eijun, who’s face is lit up like a tree. “No. You’re not hunting faeries. It’s not aliens, that’s Oikawas brand of crazy, not ours.Its a vengeful spirit and thats final”

Eijun laughs bright and wags a finger, “I’m going to tell Tooru you called him crazy again!”

Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, daiya no ace

graphic-ish descriptions of violence, character death/resurrection
866 words.

The first time it happens, Miyuki is kicked off the thirty-first floor of a skyscraper and hurtling towards his death. He hadn’t expected this situation when he saw someone snooping around and tailed them, voice recorder already on. He also hadn’t expected that that someone to be the criminal, the culprit that he had been chasing for the past two weeks, the same culprit that bombed three buses in the span of ten minutes with each bus being at least ten miles outside of each other’s radius.

Not now, I’m so close, Miyuki thinks, and dies upon impact.

**

“Ugh,” he hears a voice murmur in his ear, “wake up, Miyuki Kazuya!”

Miyuki groans—don’t use my full name—and then blinks his eyes wide open because wasn’t he supposed to be—

“Dead? Well, you are dead. But I’m sending you back.”

“You can do that?” Miyuki wrinkles his nose, “I don’t want to be part of any Final Destination-esque situations.”

“Please,” the voice huffs, “those movies are terrible.”

**

Miyuki wakes up, lying on his back on the concrete sidewalk outside of the fifty-story tower. There’s a crowd of terrified people surrounding him and warily, he flashes his badge, NYPD, and hisses in pain.

His pinky is sprained.

“You should wait for the ambulance and police to get here before you move,” a man from the crowd orders.

“Where’s the police,” Miyuki rasps, “oh, wait, I am the police. Excuse me, I have an arrest to make.”

He gets up. Aside from his sprained pinky, everything else seems to be pain free. Then again, he should be dead from falling at that height, but he’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

**

“The NYPD makes an arrest on the series of bombings that happened two weeks ago on Tuesday, March 13th, with strong evidence. Officer Miyuki Kazuya presented a voice tape of the culprit confessing the crime after some goading from said officer.”

**

“I should be dead,” Miyuki says and twirls a pen. “But I’m not.”

“Cool,” Kuramochi says, “finish your paperwork.”

**

Three months later has Miyuki’s chasing, one of his favorite things in the world, when he rounds the corner and the culprit bashes his face with a crowbar.

Swearing as his glasses break and there’s a nasty trail of blood that drips steadily from his right eye, good lord, the culprit grips him by the head and bashes his face into the wall of the warehouse. Miyuki can feel himself slowly fading away with every flash of pain that runs through him.

The culprit drops him, face horribly mangled, and Miyuki dies.

**

“Again,” the voice says dryly.

“What can I say?” Miyuki laughs, “I’m popular.”

“Ugh,” the voice replies, “your face is horrible.”

“Isn’t that how I died?” Miyuki sighs—it’s morbid, casually talking about something that was so terrifying.

“No,” the voice snips, “I restored your face. It’s still horrible.”

“Gee, thanks,” Miyuki replies.

**

Miyuki wakes up with a split lip and a nosebleed. He tasers the man in the back, handcuffs him, and makes the arrest.

He’s not sure if he’s supposed to do that in that order, but really, who cares?

**

“I died again,” Miyuki muses. “He destroyed my face.”

“Who wouldn’t,” Kuramochi replies.

“No,” Miyuki tries to keep this as light-hearted as possible but, “I saw my eyeball on the ground; he yanked it out with a crowbar for fun.”

Kuramochi stares at him.

**

“Will you ever not bring me back,” Miyuki asks when he wakes up and it’s just white and the voice.

“If you ask me to,” the voice replies.

“Why would I do that?” Miyuki raises an eyebrow—or at least, he thinks he does. He’s fairly sure that his wounds are being healed by something that he can’t quite figure out.

“Well,” the voice murmurs, “if you were to be buried alive and died due to suffocation, I’d bring you back every time but who knows if you’d be able to get out. Eventually, you’d ask me to just let you die.”

“Okay,” Miyuki says, “got it—stay away from being buried alive.”

**

His right arm feels as though his funny bone has been hit.

“Christ,” Miyuki says, “I can’t shoot like this.”

He pulls out his taser.

**

“Wow,” the voice says as cool hands cup his cheeks, “you like dying a lot, don’t you?”

Miyuki gives a self-deprecating laugh.

“Well, back you go,” the voice says.

**

Miyuki wakes up next to the barrel and hacks out the remaining water in his lungs.

He sprawls out, gulping in large amounts of air as he remembers what happened. That’s right—he was chasing the culprit, they turned the tables on him, he met the voice again, and now he’s here, ready to chase them again.

**

“Will I ever get to see my savior?” He asks one day.

“Miyuki Kazuya, seriously,” the voice replies, “you know that I exist in your world, right? I just interfere in the space from your world to the next.”

“Well,” Miyuki groans, “tell me your name then.”

**

He wakes up with Sawamura Eijun on his lips.

Miyuki Kazuya, Miyuki Sr., Daiya no Ace
slight body horror, angels, bodily possession, supernatural au, Miyuki Sr death
(weeps forever for jimmy novak)

WC 462

Kazuya yelled at his father. What was left of his father anyway.
The skin was starting to peel in various places, the man he knew was gone. The devoted man of faith and hard work wasn’t the one staring back at him. “Please! Let my father go! You’re killing him!”

The angel stared and curiously looked at the hands of the body it was in, and flexed the hands, watching as more pieces of skin flaked off. “I...I was certain that this man could host me. I guess I was wrong. This body won’t hold out much longer. I am sorry for your loss.”

Kazuyas world went silent as he scrambled off his knees and ran forward, hands fisted in the shirt on his fathers body. “Don’t you dare say that! You don’t get to promise him anything and leave him to suffer!”

The angel closed its eyes and placed a hand against Kazuya’s forehead, “Would you take his place? You are of his flesh and blood. You are young. But I must warn you. It will hurt, you will be in pain. I cannot promise you peace until this mission, or your body is done.”

Kazuya can feel the how hot his father’s hands are on his head, can feel the immense amount of Heavenly grace that’s currently surging and ripping his father’s body apart.

The soul is willing but the body is weak.

“Yes.” he doesn’t hesitate. “Give him peace. Let him be with my mother. Just.. just please, don’t let him suffer any more.”

There is suddenly a white hot pain coursing through his very core. He can feel it burning and spilling out through his eyes and mouth, through every single pore in his body. It’s intense but, manageable. He’s going a million miles a second as this heavenly creature squeezes itself into a body too small and too fragile for such a thing.

The angel is asking him to move, to stay dormant and out of the way, and that makes him bristle.

No. He thinks, pushing his way back towards consciousness. This is my body, and I’m going to see exactly what you’re doing to my body.

Kazuya can feel the way the angel moves in discomfort, the way it hesitantly allows such a request and starts to mingle and blend with his subconscious, eagerly soaking up 22 years of human love, pain, guilt, freedom.

When he opens his eyes, he’s staring at the ceiling. His vision is shitty behind useless glasses now, and he can see every bump and dip and flake of paint, and he smiles, cackles loudly and its grating to the angels ears, feeling how the presence in his mind retracts suddenly from such a sound.
“Let’s go stop the Apocalypse”

Edited 2016-07-25 00:47 (UTC)

Haiba Lev & Kuroo Tetsurou; Haikyuu!!

Word count: 720
Tags: None

As the fantastic, swashbuckling captain that he was, Kuroo was always fully prepared to fight tooth and sword to the bitter end and go down with his ship, should it ever come to that. Of course, when he’d sworn as much, to himself and his men, he was expecting more along the lines of a heroic battle with another pirate ship over a trunk or two brimming with treasure, or a desperate fight against the Royal Navy when the lawmakers finally caught up with him, as lawmakers always do.

But, well, he’d never actually excluded “attack by a giant sea monster” -- because really, everyone knew that monsters didn’t exist. Sirens and mermaids were a product of drunkenness and dugongs and horny sailors, and huge sea snakes were just hazy waves and overactive imaginations.

Or not.

“It’s been an honour plundering with you all,” Kuroo announced, sword in hand and giving a lazy salute. His men looked grim, but they were all battle-hardened pirates and they knew how to fight when it counted. And none of them were outwardly freaking out yet, which Kuroo counted as a definite plus.

Kenma sighed, like the entire situation was nothing more than a huge inconvenience. Still facing the crew, Kuroo ruffled his hair affectionately. The timbers of their ship creaked under the silvery-grey scales of the beast, where it wrapped around the bow of their ship, glittering in the sunlight.

“Well, time to go do a captain thing,” Kuroo said, and without further ado he raised his sword, charged for the bow, and stabbed with impunity into the fishlike creature.

The ship shuddered as the sea serpent flinched, and then it was moving, the coils sliding off the side, and something erupted from the water.

It was a giant eel-like face, with huge, emerald-green eyes, an upcurved mouth, and an affronted expression.

“Ouch!” it complained. “Why would you do that?”

Kuroo blinked. He opened his mouth, closed it, and looked at his crew, who all wore expressions showing variable degrees of confusion. “Uh. Come again?”

The beast made a sound that he couldn’t interpret as anything but a petulant whine. “I wasn’t going to break it, geeze! I just have a really bad itch under my scales, right here, see?” It raised a hump of its body out of the water, waving it slowly back and forth as saltwater sluiced back into the sea and onto the deck of Kuroo’s ship. “I needed to scratch it on something! And, you know, there aren’t that many options out here unless you go way, way down to the bottom and it’s cold down there!”

The creature leaned down suddenly, tilting its head to the side like a puppy. “Say, will you scratch my scales for me?”

And Kuroo, because he had a brain and knew that refusing the bizarre request of a hundred-odd-meter sea beast might possibly be a bad idea, obliged. The serpent’s eyes closed and it let out a hiss that was frightening at first, until Kuroo realized that it was more like a purr than a hiss, and that the barbels around the giant mouth were quivering in what appeared to be pleasure.

Huh.

“I like you. I’m going to keep you,” it said, with all the macho confidence of a creature that nobody would ever dare oppose. Kuroo felt a faint flicker of alarm, but then the beast lowered its head to the deck, staring at him out of one giant eye, and said, “I’m Leviathan, but you can call me Lev, that’s what everyone calls me, what’s your name?”

“Er. Kuroo.”

“Kuroo,” Lev echoed with a distinctly satisfied tone. It dipped back into the water until only its head was above the surface, stretched out along the side of the ship. It was almost as big as the ship, and Kuroo wondered giddily just how big the thing was.

It scraped up against the side of the ship, causing it to heel slightly to the side and emit a somewhat disconcerting echoing creak. “Well, Kuroo,” Lev said, rolling over so its pale underbelly was briefly exposed to the sun. “Where are you going? I’m coming too!”

“This is going to make the whole piracy thing much easier,” Kenma murmured, and Kuroo agreed wholeheartedly.

Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun (Daiya no A)
No warnings or tags, creation au
Word count: 617

In the beginning all was calm, peaceful and dark.

The sound of water across the ocean, through the streams, and racing down waterfalls. Wind rustling through his dark-as-night feathers as it stretched from one end of the earth to the other. Sun warming everything it touched with her delicate fingers once she was delivered to her new home in the sky.

But, he was lonely. Creating the land from within water and stealing light for the sun, moon, and stars had over time made him weary and wanting.

Trickery and deception the tools available as he spread his massive wings. Shadow casting an ominous presence over the land as he made his way towards the village, searching for his first victim of the day.

Landing stealthily, unseen from any keen eyes (or at least he thought) until he began to transform. Feathers disappearing, talons retreating, and beak turning from a cruel curve to the soft sneer of lips and skin. Beauty personified in the striking man that remained where only seconds before had been a raven as dark as night.

Slipping into the town to spread his own brand of mischief among its occupants, as the stare of knowing, golden eyes watched from high above. Waiting for his chance to deliver a message of his own.

***

Numerous fights, multitudes of stolen items, and fire setting the night alive were his calling cards. Humans having numerous names for his nefarious ways, but always one step behind catching him within a well-constructed cage.

Fleeing again from the destruction in his wake into the familiar blanket of black dotted with stars. Enjoying the last moments of walking on two legs, the feeling of the cool breeze against exposed skin, the shivers running in warning up his spine-

“His silent flight would fool many, before the churn of feathers, beak, and flesh. One last heralding caw of warning before melting into laughter. Trickster taking his preferred form before he walked across the earth once more; the weight of extended silence taking payback against those foolish enough to believe his gloss, gleam, and shimmer. Feathers still sharpened just underneath the skin.”

The raven recognizing the other’s true form born from similar substance, golden eyes giving away his identity almost instantly; grin growing with pride doing little to hide the fire brewing deep within an eager belly.

“Very good… very good catching me so quickly-“

“It wasn't hard. Follow the seas of screaming and fire in the dimming light and you’ll be lucky to catch the sounds of retreating feathers as the smoke swirls around the remaining whispers. This time however, I was very lucky to be in the right place at just the right time.”

Raven feeling the unfamiliar chill of fear creeping up his spine, wishing to escape his human form as quickly as possible and flee back into the safety of the black, cold, night time sky.

“Run or rather, fly as fast as you can little bird. It's about time you paid for the pain and suffering all your tricks have caused,” unnatural grin spreading across the face of the young man with the burning gold eyes, “as I’m just the being to catch you.”

He couldn't help it. Laughter starting before he could hold it back with its cruel, twisting tone. Human skin melting and changing back to the familiar comforts of beak, and talon, and feathers. Caws echoing in challenge into the deep night sky.

Bursts of sudden light nearly blinding him as the raven lead a frantic chase throughout the sky- enjoying the thrill of thunderbird finding him once again and the price to pay if he was caught (hoping secretly from past experience he would.)

no tags
Rin/Maki AU, based on rin's fairytail card!

Furuya Satoru/Miyuki Kazuya, Daiya no A
no major tags, supernatural elements, ouija board
words: 511

“Is anyone there?” Haruichi asks; head tilted down, his unseen eyes no doubt focused on the piece of paper in front of him, the alphabet written around it, “yes” and “no” at the top.

“Couldn’t we have done kokkuri-san instead?” Sawamura asks quietly as the coin everyone has their finger on starts to move toward “yes”.

“You’re unsurprisingly superstitious,” Kazuya grins even though the second the coin moved his heart started beating faster, “country boy.”

“What should we ask?” Kuramochi says, elbowing Sawamura and cutting off his protest.

“When will I be the ace?” Sawamura perks back up, staring at the paper intensely as the coin moves.

Kazuya can feel the way Furuya tenses next to him and he has to suppress a snicker. They seem to be taking this way too seriously for a kid’s game.

“Never,” the group spells out together and Kuramochi laughs.

“Someone’s pushing it,” Sawamura glares around the circle of boys huddling around.

“Miyuki Kazuya, it was you wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t,” Kazuya grins. He sees the sparkle of amusement as Kuramochi tries to hold back laughing harder and thinks he knows who did it.

“It’s just a game Eijun,” Haruichi says, a lilt to his voice and a tilt to his lips that makes Kazuya less sure about his assumption.

“Will we make it to Koshien this year?” Furuya asks, ignoring the noise around him, voice deep and serious and Kazuya can’t help finding how seriously he’s taking this a little endearing.

The coin moves quickly to “yes” and no one is surprised.

“Will we win?” Sawamura asks excitedly and the coin moves to “no”.

A heavy atmosphere settles over the room as they glance around the circle. No one is laughing, no one wants them to lose; Kazuya can’t tell who moved the coin.

“Will I really be the best pitcher in Japan?” Furuya asks and the coin moves back to “yes” as Sawamura accuses Furuya of moving the coin. He shuts up when it moves toward the letters, spelling out a longer message.

“Furuya kun,” it reads and Kazuya’s heart starts to hammer as it spells out: “Please take care of my Kazunya.”

“That’s not funny,” Kazuya says, unable to keep the waiver out of his voice as he pulls the coin off the board. “Game over guys, get out.”

“Miyuki…” Kuramochi says but Kazuya won’t meet his eyes, pointing toward the door.

Sawamura opens his mouth to say something but Haruichi tells him quietly not to, tugging on his friend’s arm to make him stand. The three of them exit his room and Kazuya’s mood sours further, a strange mix of anger and fear making his stomach turn.

“Miyuki-senpai,” Furuya says next to him, touching his shoulder gently and Kazuya lets himself melt into the touch, leaning against his solid warmth.

He resists the urge to put his head in Furuya’s lap, let him stroke his hair until he closes his eyes with contentment; the echo of his mother’s voice saying “my little Kazunya kitty almost purrs,” too fresh in his mind.

Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi, Haikyuu!!

tags: death (but the character comes back to life), necromancy au. standalone fic that takes place within the same universe as these bits IF YOU'RE INTERESTED

1092 words

Tendou’s still getting used to a corporeal body.

“Oops,” he says, as he walks into the tent wall again. “I keep forgetting how far my steps take me.”

Ushijima stares at him, still as deathly silent as when he had completed the ritual. His gaze is steady, but it also feels like he’s looking at something else, at something that’s not there.

‘Look at me,’ Tendou wants to say. ‘I’m right here.’ But that’s obvious enough, and would sound childish. How can Tendou explain, exactly, that he still feels like he’s being looked through instead of looked at?

If Tendou only had Ushijima’s distant gaze to go off of, he wouldn’t be sure if he were really alive again. But he’d felt hungry before breakfast that morning, the first time in a long while, and the cold is sharper now, much sharper than the coldness of death. It’s a wonder he hadn’t figured out he was dead sooner, before he became alive again.

“Denial’s an amazing thing, huh, Wakatoshi?” Tendou says, not expecting an answer.

Ushijima closes his eyes and nods. And then he finally speaks.

“Was it a mistake?” he asks.

--

It had been cold.

(Of course it had been cold, they were stationed in Antarctica. But still-- it had been cold.)

And windy. The wind had howled like it was in a rage, like it knew Ushijima needed to be stopped. Windless Bight was supposed to be windless, and it had been too obvious that it was an ill omen. Tendou had wanted to throw a fit. It wasn't fair that the wind didn't agree, it wasn’t fair that he’d died young, it wasn’t fair he’d never gotten to kiss Ushijima, so what did the wind know?

What if it put Ushijima off from his decision?

But Ushijima had steadily packed his bag, ignoring all the signs they’d been trained to pay attention to. He’d carefully snapped off sprigs of lavender and milk thistle from his little plot of land, had rolled them up in a clean linen cloth, had tucked them into the neat pockets of his case next to his fire starter and whistle. He’d filled a thermos with sage tea, and another with ice salt water.

There had been little glass vials of oils too, rose and clove. He’d spent months making them from his small tent garden as part of his military research. Tendou remembered how they'd smelled as they were distilled, filling up their tent. He'd always watched, curious, as Ushijima had fiddled with his glassware equipment. Tendou hadn’t been able to smell anything in a long time.

Ushijima had suited up and buckled his pack on. Then he had headed out for his Bombardier, oblivious to Tendou’s ghost hitching a ride.

Along Fog Bay and up to Terror Point he’d ridden, never slowing down, never stopping for a break. The trip had had a strange timeless feel, thanks to the long daylight hours. By the time Ushijima had stopped, Tendou couldn’t tell what hour of day it was supposed to be.

“I couldn’t have gone and died on Mount Bird, huh?” Tendou had said, even though he'd known Ushijima couldn't have heard. “More birds, less terror, you know. Pleasant.” He had watched as Ushijima had dismounted and headed towards a small gathering of rocks. “Though it would have been the other side of the island, I guess.”

Tendou had watched on as Ushijima had opened his pack and made his preparations: setting up a fire, eating some rations, pulling out his pickaxe. And he had watched on as Ushijima had kicked the rocks aside, breaking their protective spell, had watched on as Ushijima had attacked the ice with the pickaxe.

More time had passed, though Tendou could only tell from the sweat beading on Ushijima's forehead, from the way Ushijima’s fingers had gone pink, then blue, with the cold.

“Don’t die on me too, Wakatoshi,” Tendou had whispered, horror mounting in him. And the feeling, dulled through death, had reached a peak as Ushijima let out a soft sigh and started laughing. “What, what is it?” Tendou had asked, clawing at Ushijima’s parka in futility.

Ushijima had stilled and grown serious again. Tendou had peered around his shoulder and seen, there in the permafrost, a tuft of red hair.

“Oh,” Tendou had said. “Almost there, Wakatoshi.”

Tendou had continued to watch, all up to Ushijima setting up the ritual. But he'd finally looked away when Ushijima had pulled out a blade to hold to his palm.

“That’s too real, Wakatoshi,” Tendou had muttered, “too real. I’m just, I’m going to close my eyes for a bit, but I’ll still be here, okay?”

And when Tendou had next opened his eyes, it had been to the taste of cloves and roses at the back of his throat, to the sound of a whistle in his ears, to the feel of his face crusted with salt water, and to the terrified look in Ushijima’s eyes. But Tendou hadn’t lied; he was still there. Just differently.

--

“So was it a mistake?” Ushijima asks again.

It’s the kind of question about the kind of event that should be offensive. But Tendou knows what Ushijima means. Will it be worth it, if we just end up dead anyway? If we drag the rest of the world with us?

The answer is ‘no,’ which is a downer.

“Way to make a guy feel appreciated!” Tendou says, forcing a strained smile and aiming a friendly, hearty slap at Ushijima’s back. Tendou’s still having trouble adjusting to his strength though, so instead he gives an awkwardly romantic caress.

“I appreciate you,” Ushijima says, earnestly enough to make Tendou feel even weirder about the hand he’s got on Ushijima’s back. He pulls away like he’s been burned.

“I, um, me too,” Tendou says. Then, fervently, he repeats, “me too!”

Ushijima smiles, that crooked thing where one corner of his mouth teases out a dimple.

Tendou takes a deep breath to fight off the sudden dizziness, to give himself confidence. “It won’t be a mistake,” he says.

Ushijima looks down at his hands, then looks up, nods. “Will you,” he starts, and pauses. He takes a deep breath, mirroring Tendou’s actions. “Will you go on a date with me?”

Tendou looks at the crease between Ushijima’s eyebrows, at how strangely delicate it makes Ushijima look. “What, dinner and a movie,” Tendou jokes, weakly, regretting it immediately. He clears his throat. “Yes,” he says. “I-- I’ve heard Mount Bird is beautiful this time of year.”

Takigawa Chris Yuu/Zaizen Naoyuki (Daiya no Ace)
Tags: mentions of injury, mermain AU, interspecies relationship
Word Count: 861

Chris stretched out, his boots slipping slightly on the slick, wet rocks on the shore. He kept his balance easily though, bringing himself steadily down to sit on the flat rocks. His navy uniform would be soaked by the time he was done here, but that didn't bother him. Clothes could be changed.

He waited. The sun had only just begun to break over the horizon, and the water was lit a pale yellow. The day was hardly beginning, and yet Chris already found himself getting impatient.

Keeping one eye on the water, he passed his hands along the crevices of the rocks until he dredged up some pebbles. Only a few of them proved to be the right shape for skipping, but Chris made an attempt anyway, managing to get a couple bounces over the near-still waters of the harbor.

Finally, Chris caught sight of what he was waiting for — a spiny, webbed dorsal fin broke through the water, its golden color more vibrant than the sun’s rays on the water. It disappeared in a flicker, but Chris wasn’t deterred. He flipped one of the flatter pebbles around in his fingers, watching the water and calculating where the fin would resurface. As soon as he saw a hint of movement where he had predicted, he tossed the pebble with a flick of his wrist. It skipped — once, twice — then hit its target.

There was a great splash as a golden tail thrashed angrily, the large caudal fin at the end of the tail splaying out as wide as it would go for a split second, before the whole thing disappeared below the surface.

Chris laughed.

The water churned again, this time closer to Chris’s perch. Chris watched expectantly as two clawed hands darted up, leaving thick gashes in the rock as their owner heaved himself up. Chris’s smile was soon matched by the merman’s scowl.

“Hello Zaizen,” Chris said, still grinning. “Did I startle you?”

Zaizen continued scowling. He ran a clawed hand through his hair, sweeping back some of his soaked, golden locks so that they were no longer clinging to his face.

“You did that on purpose,” Zaizen hissed.

“Nonsense,” Chris said, waving a hand. “I was only passing the time since you were late.”

Zaizen huffed, the gills on his neck flaring out angrily. He hauled himself completely out of the water, wrapping his tail under him. He always did it in a very particular way, with his injured side curled underneath him so no one could see the scars. But Chris was used to watching for it. Zaizen’s tail had been gashed along the length of the left side, and his left pelvic fin had ripped to shreds, leaving only the spines of it mostly intact while the webbing was stripped away.

Chris could still vividly remember his ship going down, the smell of gunpowder and smoke thick in the air. His shoulder ached with a phantom pain at the thought. He’d been luckier than Zaizen that night, in the scheme of things.

“I sail out in a week,” Chris said. “Redeployed on a new ship.”

Zaizen’s face went blank, almost fearful, before he frowned and looked away. “Of course you are. No rest for the great captain.”

Chris smirked at him. “I was hoping you’d come along.”

Zaizen turned a glare at him. He hadn’t been able to brave the tides of the open ocean since his injury, something that Chris knew all too well. “And how did you think that would work?” he asked “You’d scoop me up and put me in a tank?”

“If that’s what it takes,” Chris said, and he smiled at Zaizen’s affronted face.

“I’m not some goldfish you can keep in your captain’s quarters,” Zaizen growled.

“A pity,” Chris said. “I’d quite like to see you in my quarters if I could.”

Zaizen gaped at him for a moment before looking away quickly.

“But if you’d prefer to swim under your own power, I’ve already spoken to an inventor in town. He was quite intrigued by the idea of crafting a prosthetic fin for a merman.”

Zaizen refused to look at him, but his tail swished behind him, betraying his interest.

“You’d have to come up on land long enough for him to get a proper look at you though,” Chris said.

Zaizen’s gills flared out again. “I don’t want your charity,” he said lowly.

“There’s no charity involved,” Chris said. “If you think about it, I’m actually being quite selfish.”

Zaizen sighed. He unfurled his tail, letting it slip slowly back into the water. “I’ll think about it.”

“I’ll meet you tomorrow then, for your answer,” Chris said.

Zaizen didn’t reply, instead slipping back into the water with an exasperated flick.

“Zaizen?” Chris called out to the water. “You’ll be here tomorrow, right?”

His golden tail broke through the water just long enough to flop back down, splashing water over the rocks. Chris was drenched completely, exactly as he had expected to be before their conversation was over.

Chris laughed and slicked his hair back over his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Kominato Ryousuke/Kuramochi Youichi , Daiya no Ace

word count: 894

Warning: Fire and fire related injuries

it will make sense. or will it?

An old ceiling that oozes a dubious substance that may or may not be sewer water looks over rusty metal rails leading to pitch black darkness. The air is saturated with the smell of mold and humidity, dust clings to Kuramochi's throat when he inhales. He coughs in his sleeve, as silently as possible, mouthing curses. Further down the tunnel to his right comes the sound of rats scurrying away with mildly distressed squeaking noises, swift feet kicking down pebbles that ricochet on the walls.

At first glance, it looks exactly like one would expect an abandoned subway station to look like.

But, the air around is clogged with energy, a strong, powerful kind of energy, intangible in nature that still raises the hair on Kuramochi's arms as if to physically attest of what he's sensing. The skin on his back that has been tingling since he ran away now downright burns and he has to repress a pained moan. Stupid back. Stupid power.

If he finds the one he has been looking for, none of it will matter. That's what he tells himself with gritted teeth as he jumps down on the tracks.

Kuramochi follows the rails into the darkness to his left, all senses in alert for an indication of a human presence.

He knows that man is supposed to be down here. All the signs point to him and to this place. His fire even provided him with clues, dammit! Someone who controls flames at will, a renegade who ran away two years ago, avoiding both the fighting arenas and jail. An urban legend in that part of the city.

Someone who will be able to help him taming the flames persisting in sketching the future in burning ashes on his back like he's some kind of fire proof canvas at the mercy of these hell sent predictions.

He's sweating, his damp t-shirt sticking to his skin adding to his growing discomfort. He takes it off hastily once he realizes this probably means he has at most a few more minutes before his power acts up. No point in ruining a perfectly good shirt.

Bearing prophetic fire has a lot of downsides, lots of pain for very approximate results with maximum collateral damage. A literal blast.

The flame of his torch, the only light he has to guide himself with as he progresses further in the inky tunnel, etches coiling shadows on the walls, depicting the exact same scene he saw on his back a few days ago.

*

It comes like a wave.

His chest feels constricted, sparks are dancing in front of his eyes and he can feel his conscience slowly drifting away as the pain in his back intensifies. He's out of breath, hears nothing but his own ragged breathing and the rapid beating of his heart.

He only manages a couple more steps before collapsing to the ground, his torch rolling in gravel before going out. The last thing he's aware of is the intense heat engulfing him whole.

He doesn't feel the flames unfurling between his shoulder blades and licking at his skin, doesn't see them stretching high enough to skim at the ceiling, doesn't sense them reverting to scorching embers and carving delicate patterns on his back, a mysterious composition hidden for now but one the ashes will reveal once the fire dies out completely.

A small masculine figure steps out of the shadows, smoke spiraling around his ankles like it parts for him. He takes in the whole scene before approaching and crouching down next to Kuramochi, placing his hand a few centimeters above his back. The smoke vanishes and the fire dies down with a hissing sound, as if swallowed by the hand hovering above it.

Without a second glance for his ash-covered fingers, the figure leans over Kuramochi's back, observing the design imprinted on skin by the cinders of the prophetic fire.

"Interesting."

*

The first thing Kuramochi realizes when he wakes up is that he's cold. The second is that he's not alone.

His eyes, now accustomed to obscurity can make out the silhouette of a man to his left, sitting with his back to the wall. He straightens himself up in a sitting position in a heartbeat.

He hears a chuckle and the man lights up a match in front of his face, revealing elegant features framed by pink hair. "Good evening."

Entranced, Kuramochi realizes the match isn't burning, its flame static, as if stopped in time. "Who...are you?"

It's him, his heart whispers, he's the one who will help you out.

He's rewarded with another chuckle. "Pretty rude of you to ask without introducing yourself first."

His voice is silky smooth, yet barely covers the knife-like undertones of his words. Kuramochi eyes widen and he flushes. Before he manages to get a coherent answer out of his mouth, the man goes on, a thin smile appearing on his lips. "Ryousuke. And you are?"

If Kuramochi wasn't convinced before, now he's sure of it. Half lidded eyes are staring straight at him, a glimpse of a dark sea hiding behind eyelids, troubled waters over a serene ocean, the calm before a storm.

It is said that still water runs deep.

Kuramochi is no stranger to playing with fire. He finds himself grinning.

"Kuramochi. I was looking for you."

Kuramochi Youichi & Miyuki Kazuya
no tags, au, alternate world/timeline, fantasy, magic
958 words

"Miyuki? Miyuki, hey!"

He looks over as Kuramochi sits down by his side. "Yeah?"

"What'd you just get up and leave class for? You okay?"

He laughs a little, forced as he thinks of the confusion that's settled all over since he woke up there. "Just needed some air."

"Alright."

They sit in silence for a few moments, until Miyuki can't contain many more of the questions that have been building in his mind.

"Is it normal for that to just be growing like that down there?" Miyuki gestures to what looks like giant hedges growing--rapidly growing--from the ground in the valley just below the hill they're seated on. It's growing into some sort of structure--not small but massive. The beginnings of something huge, daunting.

"Seriously?" Kuramochi looks at him like he's crazy, like that question is the most abnormal one he's ever heard and plants rapidly growing on their own to make that sort of structure is everyday experience for him. "What's wrong with you today?"

Nothing much. Besides the fact that he'd gone to bed in his own room the night before only to wake up in a classroom here in clothes he knows he doesn't own, this completely unfamiliar place he's never even seen once before. It all feels too real to pass of as a dream. The classroom's semi-reminiscent of his own at Seido--familiar faces, Kuramochi sitting directly in front of him but turned in his seat, then, to check on Miyuki following him nearly falling out of his chair upon waking up.

It all feels familiar, even if it doesn't all look the same. But it's not his. It's not his classroom or his clothes or his Kuramochi. Hell, this isn't even his world.

But. There's this odd sensation hanging heavy over Miyuki's head like he knows this place, like he has something to do here, even when he's never even been here before.

"I can't ask a question every now and then?"

"Miyuki." Kuramochi leans closer. "You sure you're alright? You've been acting weird since you woke up in class."

This isn't his world. This isn't his place, as far as he knows. But in this other life, he's someone. Someone part of something. And there has to be a way to get to the bottom of that without setting off any alarms that he doesn't belong here.

Maybe once he figures out where he is, he can figure out how to get back home.

"Yeah. Didn't sleep well last night, I guess."

Kuramochi doesn't seem completely satisfied with the answer, still looks at Miyuki, brows furrowed, lips twisted into a frown. "If you're staying up too late again thinking of strategies or plans, I swear I'll--"

Well. Some things--different worlds or timelines or just really vivid dreams he has yet to wake from--don't change. It almost makes him smile. Almost makes him feel like he's back at Seido, at home.

But. Strategies and plans? For what? Unfortunately, it doesn't seem like baseball is a thing here. And if it is, it doesn't seem to be part of his life here. What else could he be planning for that has Kuramochi concerned about his sleeping habits?

"I'm not. Thanks for your concern, though. I'm touched."

"Ass." Kuramochi kicks his leg before he leans back, propping himself up on his forearms. "We've got time, so quit worrying. We're gonna make up for what happened last year."

There's this hybrid feeling of surprise but simultaneously not being thrown off at all that's settling in Miyuki's chest. Even here, in this unfamiliar place, it's easy to settle into this space of familiarity with Kuramochi. Miyuki's not part of this same world, but everything manages to give the same vibes as their friendship in his own world does.

"I'm not worried." He doesn't exactly know what he should be worried for, but the answer seems to satisfy Kuramochi now and that's good enough.

"If you're just being stupid to mess with me, I'm gonna kill you later." Kuramochi looks forward again, back at what's growing down below, showing that he still remembered Miyuki's initial question. "But fine. I'll bite."

Thankfully.

"It's the labyrinth. Tournament starts soon, you know?"

Labyrinth and tournaments. He has no idea what those things are or what they mean, but he can play along. "Yeah..."

"It grows here every year around this time. And if you didn't seemingly forget all of your history lessons, you'd know it's been growing here every for as long as this village's been here."

"You know history's never been my best subject."

"Yeah. I do." He looks down now. Not at Miyuki and not ahead. "We lose a lot of people each year to it in the tournament, ya know. And no one knows what it's like in there until you've been inside. Everyone who makes it out alive says it's like a whole other world in there."

People die in there. In this magic maze that's apparently a lot more sinister than what looks to be harmlessly growing--the labyrinth.

Kuramochi leans forward now, like he's getting a closer look at what's growing down below. "I'd say we've got a week or two more before it's ready. Then the real fun starts."

Miyuki laughs. "Real fun?"

This time, when Kuramochi looks at him, there's a question still lingering from when this conversation started--why do you seem like you don't get it?--but it's accompanied with a look of hot determination, promise. "Our team'll finally get to go inside and the tournament starts. We're gonna win this year, yeah?"

Miyuki really hopes that if by some miracle this is just a dream, he wakes up before it gets to complicated when he replies, confirming his part in this. "Yeah."

Edited 2016-07-25 05:10 (UTC)

Makishima Yuusuke & Onoda Sakamichi (Yowamushi Pedal)
Tags: insects (spiders), mentions of cannibalism, interspecies friendship, the dog doesn’t die in the end
Word Count: 1280

Onoda stopped a few paces into the woods, pulling his backpack from his shoulders. Before him, the trees were wrapped in a massive web, glinting white where the sunlight through the trees hit it. Onoda reached into his backpack and fished out a scrap of paper. He squinted at it, before looking back at the webbing more closely.

“Baseball… oh, here.” He found the small white ball lodged a little higher in the web. He stood on his tiptoes and braced himself against the tree as he reached up to retrieve it. He managed to wrap his hands around it, and then pulled so hard that he tumbled backwards with a yelp when the webbing finally gave way. He stumbled, but managed to catch himself before he hit the ground. He sighed in relief before putting the lost baseball into his backpack. He pulled a pen from his pocket, and crossed ‘baseball’ off his list.

He continued on like that, collecting various balls, frisbees, and other objects that the other kids in the town had added to his list for when he went to retrieve things from the webs. Everyone knew it was too dangerous to go into the woods; that was how you found yourself trapped in the webbing and devoured.

But Onoda wasn’t worried about that.

He reached the end of his list and frowned. He looked up the webbing, but couldn’t see anything. He took a deep breath, and shouted, “Makishima-san!”

He reached out and plucked at the webbing. There was a particular way the webs were made, where parts of it were sticky but others weren’t, and if you knew exactly where to touch it, you could do it without getting stuck. Onoda was almost a master at it, but still got his fingers caught every so often. He plucked at the webbing in a loose pattern, sending vibrations across the entirety of the web.

“Makishima-san!”

After a minute or so of plucking at the web, Onoda finally saw a pair of pointed black legs emerging from the part of the web hidden in the trees. Soon, more legs followed, along with a torso and a head. The spidertaur crawled down the web until he was close enough to Onoda that he could pick up his head and stare Onoda in the eyes. The spidertaur pulled the hair from either side of his face to show his eight eyes, and a wide mouth stretched too thin.

Onoda smiled brightly. “Hi Makishima-san!”

“Onoda,” Makishima said.

“I’m looking for a dog,” Onoda said, holding out his list. He crouched slightly, holding a hand parallel to his knee. “He’s about this big. His fur is brown and curly and he yaps a lot. We think he wandered into the woods. Did you see him?”

Makishima seemed to consider it for a moment. Makishima’s webs were the closest to the edge of the town, which meant anything that entered the woods had to pass by him.

“Maybe,” he said after some consideration.

“Did you eat him?” Onoda asked.

Makishima frowned. “No. I think I know where he ended up though.”

Onoda brightened. “Can you take me there?”

Makishima nodded. He stepped forward, letting his front two legs rest on the ground, off of his web. Onoda eagerly grabbed on to his chitinous leg and climbed up onto Makishima’s thorax.

“Hold on tight, okay?”

Onoda wrapped his arms around Makishima’s human waist. “Okay!”

Makishima turned his head back, just enough to that his outer eyes could focus on Onoda. “You don't have to hold on that tight.”

“Oh, sorry Makishima-san! Did that hurt?”

Makishima shrugged. “Also, don’t make a sound, alright?”

Onoda nodded, pressing a finger to his lips.

Makishima nodded, and climbed back up the web.

Spidertaurs could move incredibly fast, Onoda had learned. Once they were on their own webbing, their legs moved near automatically from one strand to the next. Makishima’s torso dipped as he ran through the trees, and so Onoda flattened himself as well, his legs tucked over Makishima’s thorax and his arms still clutching his waist. He kept his head up though, fascinated to watch the scenery flashing by.

Makishima slowed and straightened his back to stand tall as they reached the darker part of the forest. Onoda peaked around his waist to see what was happening. He saw more spidertaurs, and for the first time on their trip, he felt a spike of dread in his stomach.

“Don’t worry,” Makishima whispered to him. “Don’t squeeze so tight.”

Onoda pressed his face against Makishima’s back and nodded, trying to force himself to loosen his grip on Makishima’s torso.

Not all spidertaurs were as nice as Makishima-san. Or, maybe, Makishima-san wasn’t very nice at all; that’s certainly what Makishima-san tried to claim every time Onoda insisted that he was. Onoda had gotten caught in the webs nearly a year ago, and it was Makishima-san that decided not to eat him. Ever since, Onoda had been going into the forest with no fear, and helping out the rest of the town by retrieving their lost items because of it.

Makishima was speaking to the other spidertaurs in their strange, clicking language. Sometimes, Onoda felt like he could catch words and phrases, but never enough to parse what was going on.

The clicking stopped, and Onoda realized that something was being held out to him. He looked, and saw Makishima handing him a densely wound piece of webbing.

“The dog will be fine once you get him out,” Makishima said. “He’s just sleeping, not dead.”

Onoda took the bundle, and Makishima turned to run back to the edge of the forest. Onoda held on, trying not to look back at the others.

Soon, they were back at the edge of the forest, and Onoda felt glad to be able to put his feet back on the ground. He started ripping at the webbing, untangling the small dog.

“Thank you, Makishima-san!” Onoda said. “How did you convince the others to let him go?”

Makishima shrugged. “They just wanted something else in exchange.”

“Like what?”

“Well, they tried to trade for you,” Makishima said with a flippant hand gesture. Onoda felt his stomach lurch. “But I told them you weren’t up for trade, like usual,” Makishima continued, still casually. “I’ll probably catch a deer for them or something, I guess.”

“O-oh, alright,” Onoda said. “Oh, I almost forgot.” He reached into his backpack again, and pulled out a small cloth sack. “I got these for you from the bakery. I know you like the melon bread I had last time, so I brought some of that and a few others. You can tell me which you like best and I’ll bring it next time.”

“Oh.” Makishima reached out, taking the bag from him. “Thank you…” He looked inside it and after rummaging around with his hand for a moment, fished out a small spider charm. “What’s this?”

Onoda laughed. “Oh. I didn’t think you’d notice right away. I saw it in the shop, and it reminded me of you, so I thought you should have it.”

Makishima squinted at it with all eight eyes. “Oh… It doesn’t look like me.”

Onoda shrugged. “I think it’s cute.” He slung his backpack over his shoulder once again, and scooped up the still-unconscious dog securely in his arms. “Anyway, I should get home before it gets dark. Bye Makishima-san!”

Makishima was still squinting at the charm when Onoda turned away. “Oh, right… bye…”

The next time Onoda came, with a new list, the spider charm was hanging at the very center of Makishima’s web, and Onoda couldn’t help but grin at it.

Nanase Haruka/Yamazaki Sousuke, free!

supernatural
412 words.

“Sousuke,” Haruka says and Sousuke tilts his head up, eyes still closed from sleep. He spent the night sleeping on a spare futon, the storm outside too heavy for him to travel back to his own home. “I have something to tell you.”

“Okay,” Sousuke responds, “what is it, Haruka?”

Haruka is staring at him, in the way that he casually demands full attention without verbally asking for it. Either that or he’s conflicted. Sousuke can feel it, so he rolls over and cracks an eye open. Even after all that effort that he put, Haruka’s still just staring at him, as if appraising him, so it must be something that he’s really struggling with.

Sousuke lifts his hand in a wave. Haruka opens his mouth to respond.

“There are no eggs left in the fridge.”

It looks like it physically hurt Haruka to say that; the lengthy pause doing nothing to make Sousuke believe that’s what he wanted to say in the first place.

“Okay,” Sousuke sighs, “I wasn’t in the mood for an omelet this morning but I can go get them from the store if you want.”

Haruka just leaves. Sousuke sighs and puts on clothes, standing up and heading out to the kitchen. He grabs his wallet off of the table and heads out.

**

“Got the eggs,” Sousuke calls out when he returns, clenching a plastic bag in his free hand while placing his shoes neatly to the side with his other.

The house is very quiet—too quiet.

“Haruka?” He calls out, placing the eggs in the fridge. Then, without waiting for a response, he walks to the bathroom.

“Sousuke,” Haruka calls from inside. “I’m in the bath.”

“I figured,” Sousuke snorts and slides the door open.

Haruka’s eyes stare back at him. Sousuke’s first instinct is that Haruka’s naked and he would normally turn his eyes away if not for the unusual end to Haruka’s body. His lower half consists of blue scales instead of legs, a shimmering tail with gorgeous fins instead of, well, human.

“Are you serious,” Sousuke says as he peers into the bathtub. “Did you buy a mermaid tail?”

Haruka’s brow wrinkles.

“No,” he replies and that is final.

“So what,” Sousuke says before he can regret it, “you’re a mermaid?”

Haruka stares at him. What do you think, Haruka’s gaze seems to ask. What do you think.

It’s too early for this, Sousuke decides. It’s way too early for this.

Kuramochi Youichi & Sawamura Eijun, slight Sawamura Eijun/Miyuki Kazuya if you squint hard enough, Daiya no Ace

WC 875

no major tags, supernatural au

Eijun is oddly quiet, Youichi notices and he pulls off his headphones slowly, “Hey kiddo, what’s with the radio silence?” Eijun lets out a loud noise and closes the book he was reading to go and throw himself on the bed next to Youichi.
“I kind of miss the old days where we would go hunting ghosts. Now we’re stuck babysitting angels.” He glares in the direction of the kitchenette where their resident angel is currently cooking dinner.

Kazuya lets the pots simmer and walks over to the two, immediately starting to swat at eijuns legs, “If anything I’m the one babysitting you! Ungrateful!!” Youichi cackles and slowly rolls off the bed to let them wrestle, the angel inside of Kazuya finding the human experience too fun to follow the rules of heaven.
“Seriously Eijun, what gives? You’ve been quiet for hours reading up on lore.”

That makes Kazuya pause, cautious, Eijun trapped and warbling under him, the angelic host simply too heavy for mortals. “Yes, why exactly are you looking up such things? You have a perfectly good cornucopia of facts right here if you need answers.”

Eijun screeches and grabs at Kazuyas shirt, shaking him the best he could, “Because you’re an ass and you speak in riddles half the time!! Besides! You said the end times were coming so that means the Four Horsemen are going to make an appearance soon. Right?”

Kazuya sits up and plants himself on Eijuns waist, something that has Youichi constantly rolling his eyes for, and smirks, “Well done, you can read. Yes, Death, Pestilence, War and Famine. They’re all gunning for a nice firework finale.”

Youichi waves the book towards Kazuya, “I’m pretty sure we’ll notice if four stick-in-their-asses angels or whatever, show up on horseback causing mayhem and such.” Kazuya snickers, “They tend to roll with the times, watching their plans succeed from the sidelines. Some of them are very humble from what I hear.”

Eijun hisses and manages to buck Kazuya off and sits on top of him. Youichi just wonders when the two will get it over with and fuck already. “So you know what they look like. Why aren’t you helping us then?” “I said Ive heard. They’re like angels, taking possession of humans in order to operate on the mortal plane. You honestly think these guys can walk the Earth without making it explode. The meteor didn’t kill the dinosaurs okay.”

Eijun lets out an exaggerated gasp, “They were INNOCENT,” and tries to smother Kazuya with a pillow muffling out the “I’m already DEAD, idiot!” from him.

Youichi looks back to the book his hand, to the page that Eijun had bookmarked and highlighted. To the little notes scribbled in the corner. They’re in for something much bigger than themselves. “We’re going to have to stock up on a lot of stuff. But, right now. Let’s just take it one hunt at a time, maybe get some help from the other supernatural creatures that ya’know, don’t want the world to end.”

Kazuya grins big, a finger gun pointed in Youichi’s direction, “I like how you think,” and he’s suddenly gone, Eijun grappling with the unoccupied space above him confused. “Sometimes I wonder if he’s actually an angel, or just one of the fallen ones who like to fuck around. Like.. like the old gods of booze and partying.”

That makes Youichi snicker as he tosses the tablet in Eijuns direction. “Come on, we’ve got a haunting in the next state over, its run of the mill but right now, I think thats what we need the most to clear our mind of this end of the world shit” Eijun whoops loud and rolls off the bed to the kitchen, piling the food that Kazuya left for them on plates. “We’re saving the world, one ghosty at a time. You know, I can’t really imagine us doing anything else. Can you?”

Youichi takes the plate and grins, he can actually. He can picture Eijun on the mound of a baseball diamond, a childhood dream never realized, and shakes his head, “Naw, where else can you be a loud and strange without anyone bothering us.” “Rude!” Eijun calls back, and suddenly, he’s quiet a soft smile on his face as he pushes the rice around on his plate. “We’ve been though a lot. And Kazuya has helped out too but, Youichi, I’m glad it’s you that I grew up with. No one else.”

Youichi throws a spoon at Eijun and shakes his head, his love for his adopted kid brother is beyond words. He thinks he’d save the world just so Eijun can get a chance at normalcy. So they can enroll in a tiny little community college and study whatever they want. Kazuya had told them they were part of a grand plan to end the world and Youichi had answered back with a rude gesture.

“Hey,” Youichi calls out, planting himself at the little table in the hotel room, “Did you know that Kazuya was reading some books of yours and that’s why he wants to help us stop the end of the world. You’re corrupted an angel, Eijun.”

Eijin turns a pretty impressive shade of pink and hisses at him.

Matsuoka Rin/Yamazaki Sousuke; Free!
no tags; kitsune Rin, senri/nekomata Sousuke
word count: 499

"Sousuke," Rin's voice is as soft as the newly growing petals in the garden outside, as warm as the gentle sun that shines outside. "Will you help me?"

"What do you need?" Sousuke asks, looking up, and Rin's smile sets a flurry of butterflies loose in his stomach, the way that it always does.

Pressing a brush into Sousuke's hand, Rin turns around. "Will you brush my tail for me?"

With a soft huff of amusement, Sousuke takes him gently by the arm. "Why don't you sit down?"

He leads Rin to one of the floor cushions, then takes a seat behind him. The fur of Rin's tail is smooth and long, and Sousuke likes the feel of it under his hand. He runs his fingers through it once before he brings the brush up, carefully stroking it along the length of Rin's tail.

It's the same colour as his hair, but picked out here and there with golden strands that gleam in the light that filters in from outside. Sousuke could look at Rin's tail for hours and never tire of it; but then he could say the same of Rin, in general.

Clearing his throat quietly, Sousuke keeps brushing. He can see the way that the fox ears on top of Rin's head twitch slightly with each stroke of the brush, and he smiles fondly to himself. Rin's ears always give away what he's feeling. He likes having his tail brushed just as much as Sousuke likes brushing it.

There's something soothing about this, just sitting in silence and being close to each other. Sousuke tries to drag it out for as long as he possibly can, but there's only so long he can keep brushing Rin's tail before he has to admit that he's gone over it more than necessary.

Reluctantly, he pulls the brush away and clears his throat. "I'm done."

With a soft chuckle, Rin looks over his shoulder. "No you're not."

Sousuke raises an eyebrow, but before he can even ask, there's a small puff of smoke and a second tail appears.

"You―" Sousuke's eyes go wide. "You grew another tail? When were you going to tell me?"

Rin laughs. "I'm telling you right now, aren't I? Brush this one too."

"Kitsune," Sousuke growls out and it might sound irritated to anyone else but he knows that Rin will hear the fondness in his voice.

He moves onto Rin's second tail, using his fingers as well. Rin's brushed tail curls around him, and Sousuke is glad that his affectionate grin won't be seen, or the blush on his face.

"I'll brush your tail after," Rin offers.

"It's not as fluffy as yours," Sousuke replies, his leopard spotted tail flicking.

"Still," Rin says, leaning back into Sousuke's touch a little. "It feels nice, when you do it to me. I want you to feel it too."

Chuckling, Sousuke leans forward and presses a kiss to the nape of Rin's neck. "Well. If you insist."

Art fill. No major tags apply.
Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutaro, Haikyuu!!
Diviner x Master of Arms S-Support, Fire Emblem: Fates AU

"The chieftain of the Wind Tribe controls the gales that protect their territory, but their force, their direction, are dependent on his equally turbulent moods. It falls to his clever diviner to master those -- and so he does."

Iwaizumi Hajime/Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei/Oikawa Tooru, Haikyuu!
tags: mature language, sexual references, mentions of dragonfucking & tentacle porn
593 words, the crack SASO AU nobody asked for lmfao

It is a calm Sunday morning when Tooru suddenly pushes his laptop aside and bangs his hands on the table, effectively catching the attention of the boyfriends lounging in his room; with a pokerface that could rival even a constipated Ushijima’s, he poses a question as important as the birth of Plot-What-Plot (PWP) in fanfiction.

Tooru asks, “Is dragonfucking better than tentacle porn?”

Silence reigns the air for all of twenty seconds before a cushion, adorned with the words ”E.T GO HOME”, sails through the air and clocks Tooru directly on the face.

“Which damn gutter did that even come from, Kusokawa?!” Iwaizumi demands, to which Hanamaki and Matsukawa both reply in bland unison: his brain. His other hand is armed with a Predator dakimakura, and despite how red his face is right now, Iwaizumi seems set on throwing it no matter what answer Tooru gives.

“An open mind is the key to a fulfilling fandom life, Iwa-chan!” Tooru sniffs, then, quickly amends himself when Iwaizumi raises the life-sized hugging pillow higher. “Okay, okay, I just don’t know what to write for this fan event I joined, and I’m in need of some critical direction!”

“You want direction?” Iwaizumi points towards the room door. “There, get out.”

“Not that kind of direction, you jerk!” With that, Tooru leaps onto Iwaizumi and they proceed to grapple like baby monkeys fighting over a lone banana.

Matsukawa clears his throat, helpfully pipes up, “Do dragons knot? Because that’s a definite game changer.”

“How do dragon dicks even fit inside in the first place?” Hanamaki muses. “What kind of magical lube do dragonfuckers use, honestly?”

“Idiocy, “ Iwaizumi grits through clenched teeth, making Tooru gasp in offence and promptly squish two fingers into Iwaizumi’s nostrils. The other boy grunts and, in retaliation, loops a leg around Tooru’s waist to kick his butt.

“I think the true idiocy here is you two re-enacting the foreplay to a — 2008? 2009?— lemon without us joining to make it a 4P,” says Matsukawa, sagely, as he snaps a picture of Oikawa straddling Iwaizumi for not just their posteriors, but also posterity.

Both of them squawk in surprise and flush red, quickly pulling away from each other to Hanamaki’s great amusement. He smirks and cracks his knuckles, gleefully claiming, “Well, we can always correct that now, can’t we?”

They fall on top of a yelping Oikawa and a desperately-trying-to-escape Iwaizumi, snickering at their expressions when the two boys finally realise that Hanamaki and Matsukawa are just using this as an excuse to squash them to the floor.

“Let me up! I’ve got a writing Olympics to win!” Oikawa snarls, irate. “Plus, Tobio-chan’s in one of the competing teams so I need to crush them!”

Iwaizumi groans, letting his head fall back down with a loud thump. “What are you? The Hades to his Hercules?”

“That’s just the Disney movie’s portrayal,” quips Hanamaki who shifts to sit harder on Iwaizumi’s torso. “Actual Greek mythology was a whole lot wilder than that.”

“I got it!” Suddenly, Matsukawa brings a fist down to his palm in revelation, sleepy eyes currently wide with what appears to be enlightenment. “Tentacle porn’s like those really old aunts you see at family gatherings but you still love them anyway, because they never fail to give you money. It’s the gift that keeps giving.”

Oikawa gapes. “So, how does that make it better than dragonfucking?”

Matsukawa’s answering grin is the very depiction of shit-eating. “Beats me. Both involve things going up asses anyway, and that’s already a victory in itself.”

Tags: Injury (burns), pain, implied semi-captive situation, kuroo is a demon. This was tricky to rate so proceed with caution if any of this sounds sus to you?
Kuroo Tetsurou/Yaku Morisuke (haikyuu!!)
Word Count: 516

I said I was writing body horror but then I just did this instead. I might do that later, perhaps. But for now!

_

Kuroo stretches out in that boneless way of his, smirk taking up most of his face.

"You're going to blow it up," he says, not sounding overly concerned about the possibility.

"The hell I am," Yaku snaps back. This is the third time he's tried this spell, and he's not going to blow it up this time. Not that he really blew it up the first times. The ingredients only caught on fire, a little.

"M'hm," Kuroo replies, and reaches out to wipe a finger around the rim of the bowl, then licking off the residue he picked up. "Cut back on the arsenic."

Yaku kind of wants to try breaking Kuroo's horns off and shoving them down his throat. But he restrains himself to grinding the ingredients more finely, if with more force than necessary.

A lot of the time, it feels like Kuroo's magic lessons are him tossing Yaku into the deep end and telling him to swim, with the problem of Yaku not having a trace of innate magic to keep him afloat and Kuroo regularly forgetting that. When he'd brought the matter up, Kuroo had whined and claimed that he can't expect him to remember such insignificant details about humans, then draped himself around Yaku's shoulders and made him forget about the problem for a while.

"Fuck!" Yaku shouts as the bowl of ingredients ignites. It slips from his fingers as his body reacts to holding fire before his mind does. He jerks backwards, feet knock the stool he was sitting on to the ground and he fumbles for the bowl, a split second too late as he remembers the number of very explosive things contained in it.

The bowl hits the floor.

Yaku's breath catches behind his teeth. He holds it there. Waiting.

The pain sinks in like fire. Kuroo chuckles as he ducks down to scoop up the bowl and the mix with his fingers, flicking it back in.

Yaku grits his teeth. Kuroo has to know that it hurts, and he can stop the pain and help Yaku if he so chooses, but Yaku can never tell what he's going to do.

Right now, Kuroo is watching him. His eyes cold and observant. He always looks somewhat monstrous, with his fanged teeth, black tongue and crown of horns, but Yaku tries to see the parts of him that are almost human - the parts that he can relate to. Right now, he's not seeing those things. Right now, Yaku feels like a rat trapped in a cage that's filling with water as Kuroo watches.

He doesn't scream. White spots are building behind his eyes and he can't focus through the pain, but he stays quiet. You're adorable when you're stubborn! Kuroo had said back when they first met in the human world and Yaku made him pay for their meals rather than bewitching the guy at the counter to let them walk out. Well, he's still stubborn. So he doesn't scream.

Kuroo breaks the silence with a cluck of his tongue. "I told you it was too much arsenic."

Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru, Haikyuu!
tags: wing fic, self harm, blood, crumbling bones imagery
734 words, angels!AU which is a loose combination of Haibane and Good Omens

Hajime catches Tooru tearing off the dark feathers that dot across the white expanse of his wings.

Each removed feather swirls slowly, meeting the floor crumpled and unwanted. They steadily form a sea of black downy, lapping at Tooru’s feet, but their owner doesn’t stop, and his fingers continue to drip red with every complete detachment.

“It’s inevitable, “ he states, calm in the face of his own self-destruction.

“How long do you have left?” Hajime asks, instead of reproaching the other angel, because it’s useless to try break down walls set in resolve.

Here, Tooru pauses, and his eyes flash crimson for a split second when he looks up. It is unnerving. “Want me gone so soon, Iwa-chan?”

Hajime averts his gaze, fists clenching by his side. “Whatever, just tell me the truth.”

“The truth will be ugly.” His companion resumes plucking. “Are you ready to accept it?”

“I’ll try, “ he replies as sincerely as he can while being realistic.

Tooru closes his eyes. Smiles.

“I’m Falling tomorrow.”

*

The thing that hurts Hajime the most isn’t Tooru’s choice of leaving Heaven.

It’s the fact that Tooru hasn’t asked Hajime to come join him.

*

When dawn follows the farewell of night, Hajime jerks awake and reaches out to feel if Tooru’s still beside him on their cot of cumulonimbus.

He isn’t.

Hajime bites his tongue, just barely stopping himself from Swearing at the very beginning of morning, and bounds off in search of the angel— if he’s still one, that is. And he’d better be, because Hajime doesn’t want his last image of Tooru to be a lone figure sitting in a pool of his own blood and ruined feathers.

(At the very least, he wants it to be of his smile, whether it’s sad, happy or broken, he’ll burn it to the back of his mind.)

When he reaches the Pearly Gates, breath heavy with exertion, he finds them already open, and this is it: it’s a race against Time.

The sentries posted there— Hajime registers Matsukawa’s thick eyebrows and Hanamaki’s pinkish-brown hair— wave him through with whispers of hurry, hurry, you’d better hurry, so Hajime does hurry and nearly trips when they clap him on his back as he passes.

He goes through with their well wishes.

*

Hajime finds Tooru at the very tip of the Passage of Eternity and lets a dam inside him break loose.

“Why are you going,” he spits out, “without even the courtesy to say a proper goodbye?”

Tooru whirls around, eyes wide and guilt-stricken, clearly not expecting Hajime to be there at all, and the sight of that ignites a heat welling through the cockles of his heart.

(It burns to not be missed.)

“I didn’t want to say it,” Tooru answers simply, “because you’ll cry.”

“Well, damn that!” Hajime has had enough of keeping to Niceties. “I’d have still cried either way, and I’d rather do it to your face, not to your fading back!”

With that, he surges forward and embraces Tooru tightly. Hajime’s shoulders suddenly feel wet; he sighs as he pulls back to cup his companion’s face, gently wiping Tooru’s tears away.

“I’m—I’m sorry, Iwa-chan!” Tooru sobs. “I didn’t want to make you sad. I thought it was better to go quietly, but--“

He pinches Tooru’s nose, stops him from saying any more. Leans in to whisper a secret into his ear: guess what, you’re not going alone anymore.

And tips the both of them off the edge, down, down, into Damnation.

*

The faster they Fall, the faster the feathers on their wings stream off in dark rushes, sending constant sparks of pain through their changing bodies, and despite that, Tooru’s laughing into Hajime’s mouth, wild and happy.

Tooru unfurls his wings for the very last time— there’s nothing left on them by now, just a frame of protruding bones and growing sins— and flaps them just for the heck of it. Hajime looks up, watching in silent awe as each metacarpus detaches itself, setting off a symphony of raining bones beginning from the basal phalanx all the way to the crumbling ends of both humerus from Tooru’s scapula blade.

(The beat a triple meter: together, together, always together)

“This is forever, Hajime,” reverently Tooru breathes.

They link fingers, leaning their foreheads against each other’s.

“Then, we’d better make it last,” comes Hajime’s hushed answer.

Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru Haikyuu!!
tags: dragon au, dragonfucking
1467 words

"Why do you have to be,” Yahaba's hands dig into his shoulders, pushing Kyoutani harder back against the stone wall behind him. His arms are shaking, and there's the tiniest of wavers in his voice. “So fucking reckless?"

Edited 2016-07-25 12:24 (UTC)

Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru Haikyuu!!
Tags:Witch!Yahaba, Cursed!Kyoutani, no warnings
955 words

Yahaba Shigeru was always taught to avoid the forest.

He's been taught many things over his life. That's how he came to be living on the very edge of the woods, a mixed sense of curiosity and a foolish lack of fear. It would be pointless to try to avoid the forest entirely, it lurks at the edges of the map like an animal waiting to strike.

What he doesn't expect is for something to come out of the forest to meet him.

That something comes in the shape of a cursed, confused wolf, who stumbles out in an unfortunately human shape. Naked, of course, and terrified of letting Shigeru anywhere near him. He spends days lurking in what amounts to Shigeru's yard, yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.

For his part, Shigeru mostly ignores the creature. He figures this is the kind of behavior that led to a witch hexing him in the first place. And if he throws extra food scraps into his hard, who's there to see him do it?

Kyoutani, as he comes to learn the wolf calls himself, isn't as bad as he seems. In the end, when he calms down enough to actually come inside Shigeru's small cottage and speak, he's interesting. Frustrating, hot-headed, too quick to make choices and not patient enough to listen.

But, not as bad as Shigeru might expect. They get along, in their way.

* * *

The curse is a complex chain of runes scarred into Kyoutani's back. The skin is red and angry like the curse was freshly laid and not nearly a year old by this point. Kyoutani is sitting on a cushion in the middle of the floor. He settles his shoulders, then rolls them, shuffling his position nervously. Shigeru can hardly blame him; breaking curses is messy and painful at the best of times.

With a sigh, he returns to the mortar in his hands. It's mixed already; lilac to calm him, rowan and hazel to nullify the magic, rose oil to break the bonds holding the spell together, white tea to help restore him. The mixture in his hands smells sweet and earthy, and he kneels behind Kyoutani, running the pad of his thumb over the scars and setting the mortar by his knee. There's a small brush in his other hand, and he sets it into the mixture. "Are you ready?"

Kyoutani shrugs. Shigeru huffs at that, pausing in stroking his back to shake his head. "We don't have to do this if you aren't."

"I'm fine. Just get on with it," Kyoutani growls, ducking his head quickly. Shigeru rolls his eyes at the attitude, drawing his thumb down the line of Kyoutani's spine.

He doesn't want to think about what happens when the curse is broken and Kyoutani returns to the forest. He's a wild thing, it's unlikely he'll ever come back to Shigeru and their small cottage.

There was a time Shigeru was fond of the peace that came with living alone. Now it just makes him feel empty, lonely already even with Kyoutani still there.

"Alright," Shigeru responds, taking a moment to center himself and brush away the negative thoughts. He can dwell later, he supposes, when he doesn't have the delicate work of actually breaking the curse to attend to. He picks the brush up, wiping the excess on the side of the mortar so it drips back in, before tracing the shape of the first rune, painting it over.

Kyoutani's breath comes in a single sharp gasp before he relaxes again, and Shigeru watches the scar go from red to black. He continues on to the others, tracing each mark carefully so he can remove each one. Kyoutani hisses softly on occasion, but other than that he remains quiet and still as a statue. Shigeru sets the brush down when each rune is black,

He lifts his hand to touch Kyoutani's shoulders, surprised to find that his fingers are shaking. "Just a bit more."

The murmur is meant to be encouraging, but Kyoutani does nothing to show he's even heard Shigeru speak. The runes peel away from his skin with quick pinches and pulls of Shigeru's fingers, and he sets each one to the side. Beneath them, the skin of Kyoutani's back is clean and unmarked.

When he sets the last one to the side, Kyoutani drops his head into his hands and groans loudly, his back arching. Shigeru's fingers hover inches away from his skin, wondering if he's done something wrong.

Kyoutani pushes himself quickly to his feet, eyes wide as he turns, sprinting for the door. Yahaba's heart sinks, even as he stands to chase after him.

What he finds on the green spring grass of his lawn is not a wolf, but a bronze dragon, stretching his wings in the sunlight and shaking himself. Shigeru hesitates in the doorway, staring, eyes like silver coins.

"K- Kyoutani?" He asks, voice trembling. The dragon turns to face him, and the only thing Shigeru recognizes of his friend is the eyes. Kyoutani turns around, his steps careful, lowering his head to touch his muzzle to Yahaba''s forehead.

"Thank you," his voice is soft, and warm air blows over Shigeru's face.

He wants to ask Kyoutani to stay. He watches his wings unfurl, the light of the sun shining golden through the membrane, watches his strong muscles bunch just before he leaps into the air, beating his wings hard to gain altitude.

He wants to ask, even as Kyoutani becomes a golden shape in the sky to equal the sun. Instead, he turns back to his small cottage and sweeps the cursed runes outside for the wind to take as well.

Threaded | Flat

Page 4 of 24

FILL: TEAM IMAIZUMI SHUNSUKE/NARUKO SHOUKICHI, T

FILL: TEAM Tachibana Makoto/Yamazaki Sousuke, G

FILL: TEAM Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, G

FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, G

FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, G

FILL: TEAM Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, M

FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, T

FILL: TEAM KOZUME KENMA/KUROO TETSUROU, G

FILL: Team MIYUKI KAZUYA/SAWAMURA EIJUN, G

FILL: Team kanzaki miki/tachibana aya, G

Fill: Team Furuya Satoru/Miyuki Kazuya, T

FILL: TEAM KANZAKI MIKI/TACHIBANA AYA, T

FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA, T

FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/SAWAMURA EIJUN, T

FILL: TEAM KURAMOCHI YOUICHI/MIYUKI KAZUYA, T

FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA, T

FILL: TEAM Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, G

FILL: Team Kuramochi Youichi/Miyuki Kazuya, G

FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, G

FILL: Team Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, G

FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, T

Fill: team Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, T

FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, T

FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, E

FILL: TEAM KYOUTANI KENTAROU/YAHABA SHIGERU, G