Bonus Round 5: Myth & Lore

[referees]

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

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

RULES

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

FORMAT

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

Required Work Minimums:

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

There is no max work cap.

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

If FILLING:

If FILLING as a TEAM GRANDSTAND participant:

FILL: TEAM [YOUR SHIP], [RATING] Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to Write it exactly as it appears on the team roster (without brackets) or your team will not receive points Replace RATING with the rating of your fill (G - E) Place applicable major content tags and word count before your fill (when applicable) If no major content tags are applicable, make sure to state this-- even if including other additional tags NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and use clear tags in your comment. Written/text fills should be hosted at AO3 ONLY as a new, unchaptered work. Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere. You may include a small safe-for-work preview of the fill in your comment. To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" alt="DESCRIPTION OF YOUR IMAGE"/> Visual example

FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, [RATING] Replace RATING with the rating of your fill, G - E, as explained in the rules Place applicable major content tags and word count before the fill, where applicable If no major content tags are applicable, make sure to state this-- even if including other additional tags NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and use clear tags in your comment. Written/text fills should be hosted at AO3 ONLY as a new, unchaptered work. Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere. You may include a small safe-for-work preview of your work in your comment. To place an image in your comment, use this code: <img src="LINK TO YOUR IMAGE" /> Visual example

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

SCORING

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

For fills:

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

All scored content must be created new for this round.

Etc.

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

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

Comments

FILL: Team Nishinoya Yuu/Tanaka Ryuunosuke, M

[fabflyingfox]

Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi Haikyuu!!
Warning: Major Character Death, Drowning
192 words, 48 lines

A gentle sigh, a steady hum,
A voice as sweet as
The swirls of rose in his cheeks.
He rested his gaze
And inhaled the salt
That rose up from the breeze
Out of the waves.
And he cried.

This voice
As haunting as it was
Alluring.
He knew it from a past dream,
A song of old,
One that foretold
His ultimate demise.
And he cried.

The embrace of waves
Shattering his kingdom;
A kingdom built on the waves.
The sea was never meant to be
So haunting
Just as it was
Calming.
And he cried.

“This is it, isn’t it?”
His mouth gulped in
The saltiest of waters.
A body sinking
To the bottom of the ocean
Reminding him
He was merely a captain.
And he cried.

The warm embrace
As his body sank
Coaxed his eyes open.
The voice was there,
Embracing him
With angelic feature
And loving eyes.
And he cried.

“I finally found you~”
The playful lilt in his voice
Made him forget he was drowning.
“Don’t worry, Daichi,
In this life and the next,
Let my voice guide you home,”
The siren kissed his forehead.
And he died.

FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, T

[knights_watch]

Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru Haikyuu!!
Fullmetal Alchemist AU, warnings for canon-typical levels of violence mentioned
1215 words

Iwaizumi Hajime is a heavy sleeper.

Oikawa doesn't understand how. He used to be, himself, what seems like a long time ago. It's something he didn't expect to change before the war started, but now he can barely sleep through the cars passing outside, the way the lights slide across the walls of Iwaizumi's small bedroom before vanishing.

It's a warm night, and Iwaizumi just has a sheet draped over his waist, arms tucked under the pillow. His back is facing Oikawa, and there's just enough light in the room or him to really be able to look at Iwaizumi's back.

He wishes there weren't-- that it were darker or that Iwaizumi would roll to lay in a different position. It's petty, awful, the way staring at the scars that mar his skin, paler than the usual tawny color of it makes his stomach turn slightly.

It's not Iwaizumi, though. Of course, it isn't.

What Oikawa Tooru can't stand is himself.

* * *

He doesn't remember how old he was.

He remembers Iwaizumi's condition, in sharing the research of his father. That Oikawa never let anyone else know the secrets of flame alchemy. At the time, it seemed easy to agree to. Oikawa has always been naturally selfish, and the idea of having a skill that would be his and his alone...

When he jumped at the chance, he didn't expect the research to be tattooed on Iwaizumi's skin until he'd turned, jerking his shirt off over his head.

Oikawa is bright and dedicated. Maybe he's not a prodigy, but it doesn't take him more than two weeks to crack all the secrets, to teach himself with Iwaizumi to use as a resource for as much as he knows.

And it's such a triumph, when he manages to make fire.

And then Iwaizumi tugs his shirt off again, gripping his hands around the wooden counter of his father's home, voice as steady and resolute as Oikawa has ever heard it. "You have to get rid of it now."

"I- Iwa-chan?" Oikawa stutters. He was so preoccupied playing with the clever invention of his own gloves, surely he must have missed something else that Iwaizumi said...

"You have to burn it off my back. That's the condition," Iwaizumi glances over his shoulder, and Oikawa can see the beads of nervous sweat on his temples, the way his back is already curled like he's ready to flinch away from Oikawa's touch already.

"I can't do that!" Oikawa whips his hand back like he's the one that's been burned, and Iwaizumi turns around with a snarl on his face, gripping Oikawa's wrist.

"Listen to me. There can never be another flame alchemist. I need you to get rid of it," Iwaizumi sighs, releasing Oikawa's hand slowly, shaking his head. "Please, Oikawa. I can't carry this around forever."

Oikawa's fingers are trembling, and when he doesn't protest, Iwaizumi turns around again and grips the counter, shutting his eyes and letting out a breath that shakes. "Do it."

* * *

Iwaizumi interrupts Oikawa staring off into space by slapping a stack of papers down on the desk in front of him. Oikawa jerks back with a yelp, blinking his eyes wildly. "You scared me, Iwa-chan!"

"There's an empty bed in the barracks if you need a nap," Iwaizumi responds with a roll of his eyes. Oikawa huffs, brushing his bangs out of his face.

"I'm fine." He's tired, but like hell is he going to actually admit to it. Especially to Iwaizumi, who glowers at him impressively before tapping his fingers on the papers he set down.

“You need to deal with these. They’re trying to move our transfer through,” his eyebrows knit together and Oikawa bobs his head in a nod, leaning his cheek on his hand and grabbing a pen, spinning it between his fingers.

“Shouldn’t you at least call me ‘sir’ while you boss me around, Iwa-chan?” He hides the curve of his smile against his palm, and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.

“Get a move on, sir.”

* * *

After he reduces the tattoo on Iwaizumi’s back to scar tissue and illegible ink, they don’t see each other again for two years. It’s Oikawa’s doing, made easier by the excuse of being busy with his new position as a State Alchemist, but underneath it all, he’s just not sure how to face Iwaizumi again.

During the war, he loses his chance of running away. Iwaizumi is there, brought in as a sniper, and of course covering Oikawa’s back every horrible step of the way.

And Oikawa hates it. It’s nothing like a reunion should be. Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything to him about flame alchemy, or about the reason Oikawa ran away for two years. Oikawa doesn’t bring it up either, and if he’s honest with himself, he’s scared of the topic.

Iwaizumi’s eye change over the course of the war. It shouldn’t be a surprise; no one looks at the world the same way after, but to Oikawa, the shift in Iwaizumi is the most noticeable, the one that cuts him most deeply.

* * *

“Hajime,” Oikawa mumbles the name against his mouth like praise, like it’s a precious gift that’s been pressed into his hands where they trace over Iwaizumi’s skin.

Oikawa doesn’t want to waste time telling himself again why he shouldn’t do this. He could spend a lifetime trying to talk himself out of things, but he’s never been any good at it, and it’s not likely to change now.

Iwaizumi’s small apartment is dark but when Oikawa strips his shirt off of him he still closes his eyes and fits his hands at Iwaizumi’s hips, gripping until his nails dig indents into his skin. Iwaizumi grunts, leaning into the next kiss that Oikawa presses against his lips. Until, that is, he notices the force with which Oikawa has his eyes closed.

The shove that sends Oikawa stumbling back toward the door is a surprise and he opens his eyes, blinking rapidly at the view of Iwaizumi with a fist raised like he’s ready to knock Oikawa’s head off of his shoulders. “Get out.”

Oikawa doesn’t argue, doesn’t question why. They both know he’s still running away. He fixes the askew collar of his shirt and slinks back out the door.

* * *

Iwaizumi is just starting to stir himself into wakefulness, and Oikawa wonders if he can feel the prickle of a stare on his back. He smiles, reaching out to stroke the skin laid bare in front of him, stroking Iwaizumi’s back with slow fingers.

Before Iwaizumi has fully crossed over into wakefulness, Oikawa leans forward, pressing his lips to each separate scar. He slides his hand around to Iwaizumi’s front, using the leverage to pull them closer. Iwaizumi grunts softly, leaning back into the warm press of Oikawa against him. “Mornin’ sir.”

Oikawa wrinkles his nose, pressing another kiss to Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “You’re not supposed to call me that when you’re in my bed.”

“Our bed,” Iwaizumi gripes in return, arguing before he even opens his eyes. It makes Oikawa smile. “Mornin’ Tooru.”

Oikawa hums out a soft laugh. “Good morning.”

FILL: TEAM TACHIBANA MAKOTO/YAMAZAKI SOUSUKE, T

[granada]

Matsuoka Rin/Yamazaki Sousuke Free!

God AU where Sousuke and Rin are twin sea monster gods

content warning: incest

word count: 462

"I can't believe you can't handle losing a race. You know you wouldn't have won anyway."

Sousuke can't believe he's hearing this from Rin right now. He swears that there's water in his ears, never mind that there's always water in his ears. It's what happens when you spend approximately 98% of your life underwater. But that's not the point right now.

Right now he can't believe he just lost to Rin.

"Stop sulking, Sousuke."

"I'm not sulking."

And he's not! No, he's just very clearly remembering the entire race and trying to determine how exactly he lost and if there was something that put him at a disadvantage at all during the race. There's gotta be something that happened.

Before he could think any more, there's a small pain in his forehead. He blinks and that's when he notices that Rin's right in his face, still grinning, but it's softer now. He didn't even hear Rin swim closer to him to but Rin's always been a quiet swimmer Sousuke lets out a sigh and just presses his forehead against Rin's.

"Okay, maybe I'm sulking a little bit."

"We're not kids anymore, Sousuke. Sure, you're bigger, but I was literally made for speed."

Sousuke lets out a snort of laughter. There's no argument there. Sure, they're both sea monster gods, but the monsters they control are different. Rin's got the ones who can catch you before you even know they're there, while Sousuke's in charge of the hulking ones that'll you'll never be able to escape from.

"Maybe I should just start challenging you to strength battles."

"Not on your life."

They let out a laugh in unison, letting themselves drift along with the current. Rin lets his arms drape around Sousuke's shoulders so they won't drift too far apart. It's nice, Sousuke thinks, just being able to drift along together like this. There's nothing for them to worry about. Gou definitely won't let them drift too far away.

"I'll beat you again, one day, Rin."

Rin gives him a sharp grin and leans in. Even under the blue of the water, Rin's eyes are still a brilliant red that Sousuke can get lost in.

"I'd like to see the day."

Sousuke's laugh is swallowed by Rin's lips on his. His arms easily wrap around Rin. So what if Rin was literally made for speed? Sousuke was made with size in mind, and if he can hold Rin as easily as he can right now, then that's definitely a good trade off. He breaks the kiss, but talks against Rin's lips.

"Do you think dad's expecting us back soon?"

"He knows what we get up to every time we race, he's not expecting us back for a few hours."

"Good."

Sousuke's lips press back against Rin's and Rin answers back with a bite.

FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA, Rated G

[iwaizumemes]

no tags

Makishima Yuusuke/Kinjou Shingo, 645 words, fantasy AU


Makishima spends a lot of time watching the sea. It moves, he thinks, a lot like the dragons in the stories his mother used to tell him, or maybe he just imagined that they moved like the sea. It has been so long since he’s heard his mother’s voice that her stories in his mind are little more than the sound of water against stretched canvas, the smell of salt in the air, the way the wind whistles through the high cliffs.

He ties another knot in the stretch of twine between his knees and looks down to see there’s no remaining slack. He used to tie the twine into his hair when he was younger, play at being a parcel tied up for shipping, or mingle twine with the seaweed he dug from the sands and become a monster from the depths. His commander will be calling him soon and it seems he’s spent his entire rest period daydreaming like a fish monger’s child at market.

The sun is nearly directly overhead, and he’ll have to finish his drills without the aid of a midday meal if he doesn’t move quickly. He drops the twine on the dock and glances back over his shoulder. The waves have not changed, they still tell the same stories they told him when he was a child, and they make him the same offer.


His commander is a hard man, though not as hard as many think him to be. Makishima has caught him staring towards the sea on some days, or smiling into his meal when a fellow guardsman makes a crude joke. Makishima doesn’t make many jokes himself, but sometimes he wishes that he did, if only for Kinjou’s smile.

“Makishima, did you inspect the harbor this morning?” Kinjou asks him, and Makishima is startled to the point of confusion. He had been completing a report, charcoal squeezed between his fingertips and parchment pressed uncomfortably against the exterior wall of the barracks. He drops the charcoal, but manages to catch the parchment before it flutters to the dirt.

“The harbor--Um… sir?” He manages, but he knows his voice doesn’t sound as compliant as it should. He had never thought he’d be a guardsman. Kinjou’s face doesn’t change in response, and Makishima is confused. He was not on patrol in the morning, and the only time he’s been near the harbor was during his rest period.

They stand in silence for a few more seconds, Makishima making eye contact that most people find uncomfortable until Kinjou claps him on the shoulder and laughs.

“It was a joke.” He explains, and when Makishima doesn’t smile he continues. “I noticed you there, were you making something with that twine?”

Makishima thinks he should probably smile, or try to, but his eyes narrow in distrust. Had Kinjou been watching him? Was he going to chastise him for how he spent his downtime? “I was simply thinking.” He responds instead, keeping his voice as even as usual.

Kinjou nods as if Makishima had revealed a great secret. “Do they speak to you, too?”

“They?” He asks, and he watches the way Kinjou’s stance straightens, fingers clenching around the bottom hem of his mail tunic.

“The sea people? Perhaps not. I only thought…” His voice trails off and he turns away.

Makishima doesn’t think he’s ever seen Kinjou embarrassed before, but that is what it looks like is happening. Kinjou begins to walk away and Makishima catches his arm.

“I didn’t know they had names.” He says, too quickly, and Kinjou’s expression softens into wonder. Makishima doesn’t let go of his arm, and it's strange that the contact does not feel uncomfortable. “Do they bargain with you as well?”

Kinjou straightens again, no longer embarrassed, but he does not move his arm away. “Will you tell me more of what you hear?”

FILL: TEAM KOZUME KENMA/KUROO TETSUROU, T

[hapaxlegomenon]

I don't wanna write a story I just wanna worldbuild
Arakita Yasutomo/Fukutomi Juichi; Yowamushi Pedal
Word count: 581
Major character death, amputation, focus on introspection

Arakita had come late, to the highest-ranking circle of the King’s Royal Cavalry. Most of the Riders were trained concurrent with their dragons, enlisting together at the moment of hatching and bonding. Arakita, though, was special. Or ornery, as most would call it. Unorthodox. Interloping.

Unlike most of the Riders, he’d never had an egg hatch for him. There was talk -- he wasn’t chosen by a dragonling, he didn’t belong. He had no place among them. He wasn’t a true Rider, not without the soulbond that only formed after hatching.

The whispers tended to be very quiet, now, lest the whisperers be boiled alive by an angry dragon.

Arakita had always thought the Riders of the Royal Cavalry was a waste of resources. A treasonous statement, but he didn’t have any qualms about declaring how stupid he thought it was that the Rider-Dragons pairings were so arbitrary. He was a military man, through and through, and he rankled at being told to take orders from some fledgling kid who had more stripes on his collar just because a giant leathery lizard had liked his smell.

If they were going to have dragons in their military, they should be assigned to the best.

Like Fukutomi. Fukutomi had been the best, and Arakita had been proud to serve under him, and under his dragon Bian, a teal-blue beast of a wyvern with rather scalding capabilities. It had been quite something to see, Fukutomi leading the charge on the Northwestern Front, directing Bian’s geysers of boiling water across the enemy lines.

They were a good team. Good leaders. That is, until they weren’t, and all of them, Fukutomi, Bian, and Arakita, their closest general and at the time, literal right hand man, paid the price for it.

Arakita doesn’t remember much of it. But he remembers the concussion blast, and Bian roaring in pain, and the remembers the hiss of steam as the dragon trumpeted about, searching for his lost commander. And he remembers stumbling across Fukutomi’s body.

He doesn’t remember the part in between finding Fukutomi’s body and leading the troops in a retreat. Missing one arm, but riding on the back of a Riderless dragon.

Later, Arakita was awarded a medal for that battle. He’d melted it in the forge and buried the resulting lump of iron in the ashes of Fukutomi’s funeral pyre and promised to carry on for him.

There was a great deal of confusion, in the wake of the battle. Arakita spent much of it in a sterile recovery tent, re-equilibrating to the loss of his dominant arm, when he heard the worst of it. And, off-balance and stumbling, he’d made his way to the makeshift paddock where Bian was being held and announced that the entire debate was stupid, that the system was stupid, and that the entire military command was stupid if they thought that they could execute a Riderless dragon without casualties.

And as it turned out… they couldn’t.

Bian saw him, snorted rough and low through his nose, and shook off the nominal restraints. He spread his wings, casting a dark shadow across the dragon stables and parade grounds, and, touching Arakita with one wingtip, he rumbled a single note, low in his chest. Mine.

“I have never heard of a Riderless dragon claiming a new Rider,” someone whispered.

“Well shit,” Arakita had said, and with a flurry of confused activity, he became a Rider of the King’s Royal Cavalry.

FILL: Team Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, M

[phantomwised]

Himuro Tatsuya/Murasakibara Atsushi, Kuroko no Basuke
Tags: NSFW, Bestiality

(Werewolf!Murasakibara, Human!Himuro)
http://66.media.tumblr.com/3028f893d5a9a3922ecb10fa8cd49370/tumblr_oap5z4rfcj1vq7rizo1_1280.jpg

FILL: TEAM KANZAKI MIKI/TACHIBANA AYA, G

[lysithea]

Kousaka Honoka/Sonoda Umi (Love Live!!)
no tags
14 lines (of iambic pentameter)

They say a goddess walks these hallowed grounds:
Her beauty so great no one's can compare,
A lovely voice which rarely ever sounds
Without a consort with it she can share.

And yet there is one who would dare approach
Despite the rumors of her chilly mien,
A sunny nymph whom maidens trust to coach
Them how to socialize and to convene.

She smiles as brightly as the stars above
Her greeting ringing through the lonely glade.
The goddess pauses, ignorant of love,
But would not turn away a girl who prayed.

And as their visits turned a shade more red,
Their thirst for loving, at long last, was fed.

FILL: Team kanzaki miki/tachibana aya, G

[spacewives]

no tags

kiyoyachi lady of the shard au!!!!!!!
IT WAS SHANNONS IDEA, shes the best!

Fill: Team Furuya Satoru/Miyuki Kazuya, T

[kazuyaloveseijun]

Furuya Satoru/Sawamura Eijun, Daiya no A
no tags, sisyphus AU
words: 725

Eijun pushes with all his strength, sweat running down his face and stinging his eyes. There’s nowhere to wipe it off, his arms bare and straining, sweat glistening off his muscles in the heat of the mid-afternoon sun. Or at least a part of his brain tells him that he once knew this heat as “mid-afternoon sun”. The sun doesn’t move anymore but he’s sure at one point it did move for him, he can almost remember it, almost taste water on his tongue and see ships in a harbor, taste foods he can’t remember the names of anymore on his tongue.

It wasn’t always like this; the sun, the mountain, the boulder, all of remaining the same, there used to be other things even if he doesn’t remember how far away they are.

There’s only one constant in his memory. He strains his stinging eyes to see the figure in front of him. He’s only a few meters ahead but it feels like he might as well be a world away; tall, strong figure, straining against his own boulder, muscles taut as he pushes the boulder up the mountain. Eijun can’t see it now but he can remember the sweat dripping down his back, here in the unchanging heat of the dry mountain and in a different place; faint but still in his memory, a room with an open window and the ocean breeze blowing in, the taste of sweat and sweet fruit on his tongue.

He grits his teeth and pushes harder. He has to catch up; he has to surpass the other man. He doesn’t know why but it drives him, the thought that he has to be the best, has to reach the top of the impossibly tall mountain before his quiet rival. It annoys him, straining to see that muscled back, hearing softly labored breaths when his own aren’t filling his ears. He wants to be closer, so much closer.

His boulder makes slow progress, closing the distance bit by bit until they’re almost evenly matched. He can see the back just barely in front of him tense, shift as the man looks over at Eijun; black hair falls over blue eyes, the look on his face pained and haunted, making Eijun’s heart break in a familiar way.

“Fu-Furuya,” his voice sounds raw coming through his unused throat, dry and scratchy. “I’m going to beat you to the top.”

Furuya’s eyes widen in surprise but he huffs, his cracked lips turning up a bit as he turns back to his boulder.

“I thought,” he rasps, coughing a little. “I thought I was alone.”

Eijun grunts in response, concentrating on not slipping on the rocky terrain as he reaches out his hand.

“I’m here, Furuya.” He strains to reach him, the weight from the boulder hurting his arm, pressing into his chest as he digs in his heels, trying not to lose any progress.

Furuya turns to look at him again, blinking slowly at Eijun’s hand, his own reaching out as well, their fingertips barely touching, skin hardened by the rough work. It’s not enough. Now that he’s closer Eijun wants more of him but he can’t reach like this, not unless he lets go of his burden. Furuya seems to realize it at the same time as Eijun, the two of them sidestepping clumsily toward each other, Eijun’s boulder hitting his shoulder painfully as it passes but he doesn’t care, reaching out for Furuya.

His legs feel useless as he stumbles forward, his chest connecting to Furuya’s heat, arms wrapping around each other in one sweet moment of relief before they’re falling, rolling down the mountain and clinging to each other tightly. Rocks dig into his bare back and arms, but he doesn’t let go, the two of them tumbling. He shuts his eyes praying for a swift end but it doesn’t come.

Rocks give way to something soft, grass and sand, the scorching sun suddenly gone when he opens his eyes, his world a tumble of blue. When they come to a stop they’re on a beach, in the shade of a tree. The water smells fresh and there’s the scent of food in the air but more than anything Eijun wants to taste what’s in his arms, breathing against him shakily.

He tastes like sweat and sweet fruit.

fill: team miyuki kazuya/sawamura eijun, M

[nee_saan]

major content warnings: potentially dubcon, nsfw, fantasy elements, mentions of mild violence
word count 2066
fandom: daiya no ace
pairing: furumisawa

summary: in which Eijun is your average small town boy bombarded by two super hot mermaids that for whatever reason want a piece of him.

ao3

FILL: Team Kominato Ryousuke/Kuramochi Youichi, G

[parasolghost]

Kominato Haruichi/Sawamura Eijun, Daiya no Ace
no tags, mermaid au
words: 921

Haruichi tilted his head as Eijun rifled through his bag with a wide grin on his face, eyes practically sparkling in his excitement. Haruichi smiled a tiny bit himself as he sat on the edge of Eijun’s little boat, letting his long pink tail hang over the side and splash around on the surface of the water.

“I got it!” Eijun declared, pulling out a small cardboard tube with colorful paintings along the side.

“It’s…” Haruichi frowned. Out of all of the cool human things Eijun showed him, this one was probably the least exciting. “Oh,” he concluded, unable to keep the disappointment out of his voice. It wasn’t like he only saw Eijun just because he always brought nice things with him, but Haruichi had always been curious about the human world. Eijun had shone him so much that, in comparison, this little toilet paper roll was underwhelming.

“Don’t judge a book by its cover, Harucchi!” Eijun declared, bounding over to the side to sit next to Haruichi, the boat bobbing from the shift in weight. Haruichi felt an odd chill run up his spine as their shoulders brushed.

Eijun was so different from Haruichi. His skin was so warm compared to Haruichi’s constantly cold skin. His skin was tanned where Haruichi was pale from all of his time underwater. His fingers weren’t webbed like Haruichi and, well, he had legs. Those were strange, but all of that strangeness only made Haruichi more curious—more fond. Were all humans like this? Were all of them so warm and beautiful and strange? Could all of them make Haruichi feel like his skin was on fire just by brushing against him?

In all honestly, Haruichi was starting to think he was just falling in love with Eijun.

It was kind of thrilling how scandalous spending time with Eijun like this was, how intertwining their fingers made Haruichi’s heart beat faster than he thought possible. If his brother found out about this, Ryousuke would have his head (Eijun’s—not Haruichi’s). Humans were the enemy, after all—and sailors were worse. They polluted the oceans, stole their prey, and sometimes even killed merpeople.

But Haruichi had always been curious. And who would he be if he didn’t pursue his desires?

Eijun took Haruichi’s hand in his eagerly and placed the tube firmly in his hand. “Put it to your eye—like this!” Eijun said, pretending to look through an imaginary telescope. “And then turn the part at the end!”

Haruichi raised an eyebrow, but looked nonetheless. He was immediately met with the sight of bright, warm colors—reds, oranges, yellows, whites, and a bit of pink. They looked like sunlight sparkling over bright gemstones. “Oh!” he whispered.

“Turn the end,” Eijun insisted. “Just twist it!”
Haruichi lifted his hand to the end of the tube and gingerly began to turn it. The colors inside swirled and shifted, and Haruichi gasped at the way the colors moved like a brilliant fire. “Eijun-kun,” he said, his eyes wide and his smile wide. “This is beautiful!”

“See! What did I tell you?” Eijun said, puffing out his chest proudly. “It’s a kaleidoscope! The kids living by the port showed me how to make one!”

“You made this?” Haruichi asked. He looked through it again and watched the colors turn. Now that Eijun mentioned it, these warm colors gave Haruichi the impression of the warmth of sunshine and a fiery spirit.

“Yeah! I made it for you!”

Haruichi moved the kaleidoscope from him, his eyes wide. “For me?” Haruichi repeated.

“Yeah! I, uh, I thought you’d like it, you know?” Eijun said, his cheeks dusting pink as he grinned bashfully, rubbing his neck.

Haruichi’s heart beat loudly in his chest and he looked down at his lap. “I… I don’t—“

“I mean, if you don’t want it—“

“No!” Haruichi said with uncharacteristic panic, clutching the kaleidoscope to his chest like Eijun might take it back. Eijun’s eyes grew wide at Haruichi’s flustered expression. “I-I mean, I’m so thankful, Eijun-kun. This is amazing and I’d be glad to take it, but…” Haruichi trailed off sadly. “This is so beautiful… It’d be a shame if it got ruined in the water when I took it home.”

This difference between Haruichi and Eijun, he wasn’t so fond of. No matter how many times Eijun would sail out to sea to meet Haruichi, Eijun could never be a merman. No matter how many cool human things Eijun showed Haruichi, Haruichi could never be human. It made Haruichi feel a pang in his chest that made him want to dive back into the sea and never see the light of day again.

And yet, Haruichi broke the surface of the ocean to see Eijun every week. Even when it hurt.

“That’s okay, then!” Eijun said, his smile still as wide as ever, despite the blush still on his cheeks. “Then, I’ll keep it!”

Haruichi frowned. “That’s the same as taking it back.”

“No! It’s still yours!” Eijun insisted. “That just means I’ll have to visit you more often! Then you can see it whenever you want!”

Haruichi smiled. He wondered if Eijun ever thought about the weight of their situation. Or perhaps he missed the spark that ran between them every time they touched. He wasn’t all that observant, after all. Were all humans this foolish?

“You don’t have to,” Haruichi said gently, leaning slightly against Eijun. His tail swung happily over the edge, regardless. “But I’d like that a lot.”

FILL: TEAM Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, M

[sawakise]

Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, daiya no ace

nudity, supernatural, werewolves
1159 words

Miyuki Kazuya is an average office worker—he wakes up in the morning at six thirty, sharp, blearily stumbles through his mundane morning routine to get out the door at eight, and he’s usually sitting in traffic during rush hour for enough time to scrape by getting to his office by a few minutes before nine.

It’s an uneventful three hours, thirty minutes break for lunch, then work until another four and a half hours until he’s back in his car and fighting the rush of traffic on the way back home. Then he cooks dinner, brushes his teeth, calls it a day after nine or ten or so.

Rinse. Repeat.

**

Miyuki Kazuya wakes up one morning and goes through his daily routine without any flaws. He takes a shower, brushes his teeth, dries his hair and cooks himself breakfast. He puts on a suit, toes on his shoes, and gets outside right in time to see—

The very naked human being curled up on his front lawn.

“Um,” Miyuki manages to say out loud, and turns around to close the door. He reopens it after breathing in and out for a minute and the body stirs as if in response, so Miyuki takes the opportunity to clean his glasses lens.

Nope, still there, still very naked.

“Okay,” Miyuki says and does what any normal person would do—go over to the body and nudge them gently with his foot.

The boy groans and squeezes his eyes shut, curling around tighter.

“Excuse me,” Miyuki says and he’s already behind schedule, well, great, traffic’s going to be even worse than usual, “there are better places to sleep other than my lawn.”

“Wha—“ The other says and startles to attention, gold eyes snapping wide open as he scrambles to his feet. Miyuki pointedly stares at the other’s face, not daring to look down at the streaker that infiltrated his life.

“I was—I’m—I,” the other runs a hand through his hair, “what the hell,” he sighs.

“No,” Miyuki says with a grim expression, “that’s what I should be saying.”

“I just, I was a,” the boy squints, “I was a wolf and I was running without any real direction so I—I just.”

“What a vivid dream,” Miyuki says and this can’t be real, since he’s literally entertaining a naked individual on his lawn at eight in the morning on a Tuesday. “Glad you discovered you were a sleepwalker. Don’t come back.”

With that, he leaves.

**

Time passes and the boy ends up on his lawn, naked as the day he was born, and spluttering apologies with his name in between.

“You know that I can call the police and give them your name,” Miyuki says dryly and Sawamura Eijun splutters, both hands covering his crotch in the most awkward angry state he’s seen a man take.

“What is it with you and my lawn,” Miyuki sighs instead and Sawamura starts again with the whole wolf thing.

Miyuki ignores him. He’s going to be late.

**

He checks it, just in case, and last night was a full moon. The first night was a full moon as well.

Ridiculous, he thinks through bites of rice from the cafeteria’s bento, and then scrolls onto more important things.

**

Third time’s the charm has him staying up the next time there’s a full moon.

Miyuki watches his lawn with his head propped up by his hand. It’s by far one of the most ridiculous things he’s ever done. He’s not paranoid enough to consider the night terrors that walk around, also known as burglars, but he does do a routine scan to make sure that every entrance is locked. His phone is in his hands, because he’s not that stupid.

Around two am, when Miyuki’s eyes get droopy with fatigue and he’s considering turning in for the night for a rough day at work, he sees it: a wolf, shaggy brown hair trotting along his lawn, golden eyes piercing through the night.

Miyuki watches as the wolf paws at the ground, sniffs pointedly, and then flops down at the same spot that he’s found Sawamura lying at. It takes a while but Miyuki has reason enough to believe that the wolf has fallen asleep and—oh god, he’s not going to watch a wolf sleep while he could get some shuteye himself.

Still, he wakes up with the sun and heads downstairs in his pajamas, opening the door to see Sawamura Eijun stark naked on his lawn.

“Great,” he mutters, “wow.”

“Oi,” Miyuki says and nudges Sawamura’s cold body with his toe, “wake up. I’ll cook you breakfast.”

**

Sawamura eats as though he’s been starved for his entire life, inhaling everything that Miyuki puts down, rarely pausing to chew. Honestly, it’s a bit of an ego booster—Sawamura’s not shy with his compliments and Miyuki rarely cooks for anyone that’s not himself—and Miyuki welcomes the change of seeing Sawamura fully clothed in an old hoodie and shorts.

“See,” Sawamura yells halfway through his third omelette rice, “I was telling the truth!”

“And I was supposed to believe you, a random naked stranger, right off the bat? Really?” Miyuki snorts. “Besides, why me? Why not just ending up in your backyard?”

“I don’t know,” Sawamura complains honestly, “the wolf decides.”

**

The next time there’s a full moon, Sawamura is standing outside of his house with a duffel bag underneath his arm.

“Sawamura Eijun, ready for this operation!” Sawamura cheers with giddiness in his voice and Miyuki rolls his eyes, lets the moocher in with dinner already on the table.

He’s there for when Sawamura hunches over, limbs and bones cracking as he shifts into his wolf form against his will. Cries of pain turning into huffs of exertion, human hands turning into soft paws.

“Hey,” Miyuki says and the wolf snorts, pushing its snout—if you can call it that, Miyuki doesn’t necessarily pride himself on dog terminology—into the firmness of Miyuki’s belly.

“You can’t be hungry, you just ate,” Miyuki says even though that was four hours ago and the wolf buries deeper, moving so that Miyuki’s arm hangs limply around his head and he’s effectively sandwiched between Miyuki’s arm and his side. “Oh god,” Miyuki groans and it’s just like having a big dog—he leans down to rub Sawamura’s fur, scratching behind the ears, and Sawamura rewards him by being an ass and slobbering all over him.

That’s the story of how he ends up in the bed with an oversized dog—the damn wolf doesn’t calm down until he grips a paw with his hand and the tip of his cold nose bumps against his adam’s apple in the most uncomfortable position yet—but the warmth of another body eventually lulls him to sleep.

But when morning comes and Miyuki wakes up with a naked partner, well, that’s a different story entirely.

FILL: TEAM Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, T

[sawakise]

Kageyama Tobio/Oikawa Tooru, haikyuu!!

fictional seduction of octopus, supernatural-ish, it's dungeons and dragons
1016 words

“You die,” Kageyama says flatly and the scowling faces of Kunimi and Kindaichi greeted him.

“Are you kidding me,” Kindaichi says as he grips his character sheets, “I rolled a d20. What were you pitting us against?”

Kageyama shrugs his shoulders and Kunimi shares a look with Kindaichi, the atmosphere turning tense.

“Well, fine,” Kindaichi grits his teeth and grabs his character sheet, “I guess that I’ll just take my character elsewhere. Have fun being the King of the Court.”

Kunimi doesn’t grace him with a goodbye.

**

“Oikawa-san,” Kageyama had asked two years ago, “please teach me how to be a good DM.”

Oikawa snorts, looking up from the map that he was drawing—it looked as though it was a sea-based adventure and Kageyama was instantly jealous—and rolls his eyes.

“Nope,” Oikawa says, “unless you get down on both knees and beg me to teach you.”

Kageyama shifts, eyes wide and willing, and begins to do so.

“No—god, Oikawa, you piece of shit,” Iwaizumi groans and interjects, Kageyama looking up quizzically. “Kageyama, you don’t have to bow down—a campaign just has to be done with the right people. With enough imagination and direction, any game is interesting.”

“But,” Kageyama pips up, “Oikawa-san’s games are the most interesting to play.”

“Well,” Oikawa says haughtily, “that’s because I’m the best, Tobio-chan.”

“God,” Iwaizumi mutters underneath his breath.

**

“You can’t jump that high,” Kageyama seethes and Hinata blinks.

“Why not?” He demands. “I use a bardic spell to enhance my jumping ability.”

“What,” Kageyama squints, “what bardic spell are you using?”

“Uh, the jumping one?” Hinata squints and god—is his character sheet upside down. “Is there a list or something?”

Kageyama tries to remind himself that patience is a virtue.

**

Kageyama thinks about Oikawa’s games and how flawless they were.

He calls Oikawa again and again but maybe his number is blocked or something—Oikawa never picks up so it goes to his voicemail and Kageyama’s not desperate enough to leave a message, yet.

**

Oikawa shows up at his house one day with Iwaizumi in tow, the latter rolling his eyes.

“Oikawa-san,” Kageyama greets, “Iwaizumi-san.”

“Tobio-chan,” Oikawa says, “set up a game. Let’s see how you DM.”

**

“You are on a boat,” Kageyama says.

“And?” Oikawa asks, his legs swinging to and fro and bumping into Iwaizumi’s, if the irritated look is any indication.

“And what,” Kageyama responds.

“And what,” Oikawa mimics nasally.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says and turns the most patient smile onto Kageyama. Kageyama, for one, is pleased.

“Fine, fine—and where are we going, what is the state of the crew, what does the ship look like, is there a captain, are they hot, how fast are we going, what is the condition of the sea around us—god, Tobio-chan, just describe the scene.”

“Uh,” Kageyama says because his campaigns usually don’t get far enough for him to figure out where they’re going, “I guess—you’re headed to a… town by the sea,” Oikawa snorts and then cringes when Iwaizumi kicks him, “and there are fifty crew members. It’s a big ship. A pirate ship. There is a captain and I—I guess? There are sea monsters swimming around the boat so jumping off and swimming to shore is not really an option, but there doesn’t seem to be any land in sight. You’re moving pretty slowly because there’s very little wind.”

“Huh,” Oikawa says after a pause, “I’ll give it 5 points. It’s a start.”

“I’d like to explore the ship,” Iwaizumi says.

“The upper or lower deck,” Kageyama is surprised by the quality of his response and Iwaizumi hums.

“I guess the lower deck.”

“You find treasure—it seems as though you’ve discovered where they store their treasure. Do you take it?”

“Hm,” Iwaizumi says, “I’ll take a little bit—just enough to fit in my pockets, nothing too notable.”

“Alright,” Kageyama says, “you gain 100 gold.”

“Sweet,” Iwaizumi nods and makes the change on his sheet.

“I’m going to seduce the captain,” Oikawa says with a sweet smile.

Iwaizumi groans, “not again,” under his breath.

“Um,” Kageyama is bewildered, “roll for charisma?”

**

Oikawa has put all his eggs in one basket, the charisma basket.

“The captain—which you haven’t met before—turns out to be a humanoid octopus. He asks if this is okay.”

“Great,” Oikawa says and rolls the d20 die in his hand, “even better, I whisper seductively into his ear—oi, Iwa-chan, octopi have ears, right?”

Iwaizumi looks like he doesn’t want to be here.

“His tentacles go red as he blushes,” Kageyama responds weakly. Oikawa hums approvingly.

“You don’t have to humor him,” Iwaizumi says as he glares over the table at Oikawa, who’s fluttering his eyelashes.

“I ask him if I’m the first human that he’s shared such an… intimate moment with.”

Something nudges his foot. Kageyama peers down to see that it’s Oikawa’s shoe. Huh.

“Yes,” Kageyama furrows his brow, “he responds that he’s never spent time with a human—all of his crew members are octopi.”

“We’re on a ship full of humanoid octopi,” Iwaizumi looks like he’s ready to give up.

“I trail one of my fingers down his head to the base of his tentacles and give it a hearty squeeze,” Oikawa says.

Kageyama feels mildly uncomfortable.

“Roll for strength?” He responds and Oikawa huffs.

“No, no, I’m not trying to fight the captain—”

“We’re fighting the captain,” Iwaizumi says, “roll for strength because we’re going to stage a coup.”

“We’re level one,” Oikawa throws his hands up in the air.

“I’m not listening to you wax octopus sex with Kageyama,” Iwaizumi scowls. “If my character has to die, so be it.”

Oikawa rolls.

It’s a 1.

“Oh,” Kageyama says and stares, mouth twisting. “You squeeze tenderly, so tenderly that the captain—“

“Moans?” Oikawa leans in. “Shivers? Throbs underneath my hand? Squirts ink in ecstasy?”

“The captain loses interest in weaklings,” Kageyama replies instead and Oikawa pouts.

“I burst into the captain’s quarters,” Iwaizumi says, “and roll to engage him in combat.”

fill: team miyuki kazuya/sawamura eijun, T

[nee_saan]

major content warnings: none
word count: 564
fandom: daiya no ace
pairing: kuraryou

a/n: inspired by kyousougiga

'What can I expect today, Youichi,' Ryousuke whispers into his neck, arms drooping carelessly across Youichi's chest. He's tracing circles onto his skin, the collar of the red yukata Youichi wears drawn wide open, the sash holding it together hardly covering the rest of his body.

Youichi blinks slowly, smiling as Ryousuke fetters his neck in small kisses, little bites that alert him to the new day faster than the tea that's whistling on the stove a few feet over. Ryousuke stands reluctantly, running his hands through Youichi's hair before lightly stepping to the stove. He pours two cups of tea and saunters back; he's mildly disappointed that Youichi's hands and attention have returned to the canvas in front of him.

Tt's an old thing; the binding is worn and falling apart, the leather aging into a dull brown. The pages feel like old parchment, as if with enough pressure they could fall apart in your hands. Youichi handles them with care, his fingers scanning the many blank pages until he finds one that feels right. Ryousuke smiles, blows over the steam of his tea and watches.

'What are you feeling like today, Ryou-san?'

Ryousuke ponders the question, humming. He's distracted by the skin at Youichi's neck, tan and darkened by a few hours too many in the baking sun. 'Surprise me,' he says softly, tugging on the thin material of Youichi's robe. it falls over his shoulders giving way to the dark shadow of a tattoo that hugs Uouichi's back. Intent on his work, Ryousuke can barely see the reddening of his lover's face.

Youichi recovers quickly, reaching into a wooden box to his left. Inside is an array of brushes varying in size and shape. Youichi selects a thin tool, the bristles fine and capable of immense detail. Ryousuke's smile widens.

When at work, Youichi is meticulous and efficient - he covers the width of the canvas in strokes so fast that Ryousuke can hardly keep up. The ink is black, always black, the color only coming to life when Youichi wills it. He rests his legs on Youichi's lap and lets his mind wander.

Minutes pass and Ryousuke is content; Youichi is a natural extension of his own body, his movements filled with ease and as comfortable as if they were his own. His eyes flutter open when he feels Youichi shift underneath him.

'Are you ready?' he asks softly, eyes lit and smile wide.

'I always am.'

Youichi places his hands to the finished piece, palms down on the paper and whispers, mutters a series of words so quiet that in all their years together Ryousuke has never truly been able to discern what he says.

Streams of black pour out of the page, weaving around Youichi and Ryousuke like snakes; Youichi charms them from their place with practiced lips, whispering until the page is blank and the room is filled.

Flowers surround ryousuke in full bloom, large, vibrant petals that sing of Youichi's mind, a loud meld of orange and green and red. To his left, a lily; to his right a valley of roses. Ryousuke sips his tea before setting the cup down, resumes his trail of kisses down Youichi's back, finally able to pull his robe to the ground.

'Are you surprised?' Youichi asks, letting his head tilt back, resting underneath Ryousuke's chin.

'Always.'

FILL: TEAM Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, G

[sawakise]

Miyuki Kazuya/Sawamura Eijun, daiya no ace

tloz canon typical violence, water
1157 words.

Miyuki Kazuya wipes the sweat from his brow, exertion in his bones, his bow heavy in his hand as he scales the mountain up to the top.

It’s a fitting end to his adventure—he visited all the temples, made friends with all the guardians, received their blessings and restored peace to the world. There’s only one thing left to do—beat the villain and go home to live a quiet life until the Triforce of Wisdom is needed again.

The top of the mountain goes above the clouds, the air becoming thinner and harder to breathe. Miyuki reaches the top and looks around the flat ground, his heart drumming in his chest. Where is—

A shroud of darkness culminates to the center of the area, the Triforce of Power’s wielder landing gently on the ground.

“Mei,” Miyuki greets.

“Kazuya,” Narumiya smiles, “how nice to see you.”

**

The fight is brutal—Narumiya, by nature, is an up-close-and-personal fighter with his fists and Miyuki constantly has to step back and fire light arrow after light arrow, but hey, final fights are nothing except desperation to win coursing through each of their veins, the desire stronger than ever with the fate of the world swinging in the middle.

Miyuki fires another arrow and Narumiya dodges, taking the time to close the gap and swing a punch, landing it into Miyuki’s side and sending him almost tumbling off the edge of the mountain, skidding to the edge. Miyuki barely has time to roll away as Narumiya leaps up into the air, slamming a fist down into the ground where Miyuki’s head would have been.

“Really,” Narumiya says dryly as Miyuki stumbles to his feet, his glasses askew and bent due to the fight, “you didn’t think that throughout all those adventures—you didn’t think that you’d, I don’t know, maybe need a weapon for fighting man-to-man?”

“Nah,” Miyuki says, “it’ll just make it worse when you lose.”

Narumiya groans and lunges again and again, fist swinging into empty air or connecting with Miyuki’s bow, not giving the archer enough time to fire. Miyuki curses and sprints away, his legs burning, and he’s finally able to notch a light arrow and fire it when something interrupts.

All he sees is a flash of green, a Hyrulean shield coming up to defend Narumiya against the arrow of light. Then the stranger—someone, someone interrupts, Miyuki corrects himself—spins around to slash at the darkness with a sword.

Narumiya steps back and stares. The Triforce on Miyuki’s hand burns with such intensity that it hurts, stings, throbs, and Miyuki stares at the missing piece of their Triforce that he hadn’t thought of before.

“Which one of you is the bad guy?” the stranger, clad in all green, asks.

He’s an idiot.

“It’s him,” Narumiya says and points at Miyuki, who shakes his head and throws his hands up in defense.

“I’m—oh, come on Mei—I’m the Hyrulean prince, Miyuki Kazuya?” Miyuki arches an eyebrow.

“I don’t know Hyrulean royalty,” the stranger says, boldly unashamed about living under a rock, and both Narumiya and Miyuki stumble in surprise.

“Oh,” Narumiya says, as if he remembers something, “you lose, Kazuya.”

Narumiya laughs and disappears in a flash of smoke and Miyuki swears—dark clouds go up to the sky and spreads out, encasing the world in darkness. Narumiya floats, dark plumes of smoke swirling around him, and waves as he directs the smoke downwards. Miyuki hisses as he tackles the stranger in green, sending both of them off the mountain, hurtling towards the ground that’s better than being eroded away by the darkness above.

The stranger, predictably, is spitting and yelling and swearing up a storm and Miyuki is angry, so angry that maybe that’s why he laughs—still, he’s surprised that they don’t need to change their trajectory—perhaps the wind is aiding them downwards.

Miyuki casts a spell and they stop, inches from the ground. Miyuki gracefully backflips and lands on his feet—the stranger falls on his butt in the gentlest of fashion.

“I would have been fine up there,” the stranger growls, “I’m not affected by that.”

“Where were you hiding all this time,” Miyuki says and jabs a finger at the stranger’s chest.

Sourly, the boy rubs as his chest. “I was asleep,” he mumbles, “I wasn’t needed until now.”

Until the world was cast, truly cast in darkness.

“Asleep—wasn’t exactly beauty rest, was it,” Miyuki jabs despite the darkness of the sky doing nothing to lighten his mood and the other squawks and splutters.

“Well,” the Triforce of Courage huffs, “I think I look great.”

“Have you looked in a mirror lately,” Miyuki groans, the other’s shaggy hair obviously styled from inattention than careful grooming.

“A mirror?” The other replies. “What is that?”

“You—you can’t be serious,” Miyuki stares, “how have you been living up until now?”

“In the countryside with my family,” the other scowls.

“So under a rock,” Miyuki surmises.

“You don’t know that,” the stranger scowl worsens—Miyuki hadn’t thought that possible.

**

“Reintroductions are in order,” Miyuki says as they make their way through the woods back to Sawamura’s home, Miyuki’s kingdom being seized by Narumiya. “I am Miyuki Kazuya, the wielder of the Triforce of Wisdom, former prince of Hyrule, which is now under siege by Narumiya Mei, the wielder of the Triforce of Power.”

“Sawmaura Eijun,” he responds, “wielder of the Triforce of Courage. Sorry about—” he grinds his teeth together, annoyed, “—interrupting your fight, I didn’t know who I was fighting but I knew that I had to fight someone—maybe if you were in your castle, Miyuki Kazuya, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“Maybe if you woke up when I was in my castle, this wouldn’t have happened.” Miyuki rolls his eyes. “And don’t use my full name—that’s awkward.”

**

It’s essentially boils down to this: two bitter men blessed by the goddesses themselves have set out on a quest to reclaim the kingdom of Hyrule and free their world from evil.

“Miyuki Kazuya!” Sawamura yells as Miyuki runs and leaps into the icy cold waters that are above the Water Temple, dark shadows that look like a mix between sharks and spiders are the only things visible aside from the shadow of the temple itself. “You can’t—we’re not prepared.”

“You have the boots,” Miyuki says, “equip them and drag me down with them.”

“Where are the Zoras,” Sawamura asks instead and looks around, concern in his eyes.

“In hiding,” Miyuki says, which is the kinder version of they’re most likely dead. Which they both know yet accept the lie easily. “Let’s—let’s go. Hurry. Grab my hand.”

“Ugh,” Sawamura says and puts the Iron Boots on, grabbing Miyuki’s hand and interlacing their fingers, ignoring the private thrill that runs through his body. “Hold your breath.”

He jumps in and they’re both dragged down.

Fill: team Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, T

[hqqt]

Tags: Non-graphic animal death (hunting)
Word count: 500
Oikawa Tooru/Iwaizumi Hajime, fantasy AU (FHQ if you squint)


Hajime sheathes his sword and Oikawa claps from behind his shoulder. He suppresses the urge to pull it out again and stab him. Barely.

"Well done, Iwa-chan," Oikawa coos. "Do you think next time you could take down a whole imp for me?"

"Kiyoko would be pissed," Hajime points out, even though what he should do is shut up and work out how he's going to haul an entire deer up to Oikawa's hellhole of a castle.

Oikawa blows a raspberry. Sometimes, it becomes very difficult to remember that this is the demon king of half of the continent. "Kiyoko has hundreds of those things, she wouldn't miss one or two if it meant you got to show off properly."

"You have better things to do." Oikawa flinches. Or Hajime thinks he does. He should if he has a conscience, but then that's something he can't be sure of either.

"What makes Iwa-chan think I'm not doing those better things right now?"

Feeling as if he's walking into a trap, Hajime replies, "The fact that you're here with me and not dealing with any of your advisers or subjects or, hell, books."

Oikawa grins and Hajime wonders if he has more teeth than a human with how wide it stretches. "And here I was thinking that Iwa-chan was about to make a dirty joke!"

Hajime glares. He doesn't think it would be as bad if they didn't both know that Oikawa is almost certainly going to do him before the day is over. "You're a king, you should act like it," he says, pretending like he doesn't know what Oikawa meant.

A flicker of coldness ghosts over Oikawa's face. "Doesn't a king get to choose what he does himself?"

Hajime sighs, pulling his hand down his face. Dealing with Oikawa is tricky, and he always knew it was going to be - even at seventeen and stupid he knew what he was signing up for. Drifting from sex jokes to discussions that need to be navigated with care is only to be expected. He stalls for time by pulling off his cloak and gesturing to Oikawa to help him as he lays it on the ground.

Oikawa rolls his eyes and waves his hand, not doing what Hajime wanted, but then of course he wouldn't. Oikawa's magic raises the deer with an arrow in her shoulder and through her heart to her feet and she paws at the ground - as alive as Oikawa wants her for now. Hajime slings his cloak back over his shoulder and settles his quiver on top.

"A king needs to serve his people," Hajime says. Oikawa faces him with a blank expression. If Hajime didn't know better, he'd think it was because Oikawa forgot that he asked a question in the first place. "Come on," he continues, in the hope that they will avoid further introspective topics, "let's head back."

"Lead the way, Iwa-chan," Oikawa replies from two steps behind him.

Hajime doesn't look back.

FILL: Team Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu, G

[flippinflakes]

Azumane Asahi & Sugawara Koushi & Nishinoya Yuu & Tanaka Ryuunosuke

No major tags. TAGS for Malaysian lore, Manglish and kind of crack.

Re-post because apparently I've been tagging everything wrongly.

Asahi becomes a bomoh despite Suga's warnings and has to deal with a toyol (noya) and a hantu pochong (tanaka)

FILL: Team Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, G

[underscored]

no tags, SHARKNADO AU ONLY IT'S A ~*MAGICAL*~ SHARK TORNADO
583 words

The city of Tokyo! And what a beautiful city she was, full of grace and joy, with her bright lights, busy streets and skyscrapers penetrating the… Well, sky, because what else would they penetrate if not that. A glorious city, with glorious inhabitants, including the young denizens of Nekoma High School’s volleyball team. And on this fine Friday afternoon, they were conducting business as usual in the gym, spiking and serving to their hearts’ delight.

A big match against Fukurodani was coming up soon, and their captain Kuroo Tetsurou was having them practice for even longer than usual and making them perform harder drills. Upon questioning and muttered protests by his best friend Kozume Kenma, his answer was “I’m always this kind”, followed by a “I’m trying to kill you with kindness, get it?” Kuro cackled, and Kenma sighed. Kuro’s so-called jokes would be the end of this team—

If the giant flying shark hurtling its way around the window didn’t kill them all first.

Wait, what? Kenma blinked, squinting through the window. He was pretty sure he’d put his contacts in that morning. Maybe he was really becoming delusional with how tough training had been over the last few days. Soon, he really would die, and Kuro would have to somehow function without him. Kenma rubbed his temples, squeezing his eyes shut and opening them again. He peered out the window once again.

Three flying sharks zoomed past it. Kenma’s eyes widened in panic. “Kuro,” he said, tapping his shoulder and then tugging on his sleeve. Kuro was busy glancing down at his notepad, going through some notes he’d made on the team’s performance. “Kuro, I think we might need a break—“

It was just then when a shark came crashing through the window, causing glass to fly across the gymnasium. The creature’s teeth were baring and its jaw was wide, snapping with anger as it launched itself towards Yaku and Lev standing in the middle of the gym. Kuro, their great captain, beloved leader, and trusted source of inspiration, had only one thing to say as response. His jaw practically dropped open.

“Holy shit.”

Luckily, their volleyball training had served them well. Yaku and Lev both quickly dove out of the way, and the shark crashed onto the ground. Kenma was about to heave a sigh of relief before the shark bounced back up like a rubber ball, still snapping its jaw like Taketora during a buffet. A loud gust of wind howled through the gym, causing shards of glass to fly across the room. Kenma lifted his hand to shield his eyes. Now it was Kuro’s turn to grab hold of him, giving him a sharp shake.

“Kenma! Look!”

Kenma peered through his fingers, and fear rushed through him as he realized what exactly was going on outside.

Sharks. And a tornado.

It was a shark tornado.

Kuro’s voice rang through the gym loud and clear. “Guys, we’re clearing out!” he screeched, just as another gust of wind blew through. The shark was still flying and snapping at them like a bouncing ball, and the team didn’t have to be told twice. They started running away as quickly as their legs could take them. Kenma shuddered.

Maybe they had died, and he was in hell, and there was a magical shark tornado going on outside ready to cause them torture. At least he was with Kuro, though.

Okay, he had to be alive—hell wouldn’t have kept them together.

FILL: Team Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, G

[underscored]

no tags, jealousy in a humorous manner
1200 words

They’re sprawled out on Kuroo’s bed like a pair of lazy cats. Kenma stares intently at the screen of his laptop, while Kuroo absentmindedly tosses a volleyball in the air. Playing ball indoors probably isn’t the best of ideas, but he’s pretty bored and it’s good motivation to practice his control. Especially with the knowledge that he could hit something expensive, or, worse still, hit Kenma. Not that Kenma hasn’t been hit by stray balls in the past, of both the literal and metaphorical kind, but he’s pretty certain that dropping the volleyball on Kenma is a one-way ticket to being, even if jokingly, single.

Speaking of single, it’s been a quiet few days since Kenma started carrying his laptop around instead of his PSP. Kenma’s always absorbed in his video games, fusing his Personals and Crossing his Animals one by one, but it’s rare that Kenma gets reaches these levels of sheer engrossed. Kuroo can tell by how he takes a second longer to nuzzle back when Kuroo scoots closer to him, or how when Kuroo bumps his shoulder he sometimes forgets to bump back. Kuroo frowns, catching the ball and hugging it it close to his chest.

“Hey, Kenma,” he says, dropping the ball on the ground and scooting over so he’s closer to his boyfriend. Kenma’s attention remains transfixed on the screen. “What’s so cool about this game?” He glances up at the screen, only to see the shining visage of a large rock pigeon.

Wait, what?

Kuroo squints, blinking his eyes and then staring at the screen again. Kenma is scrolling through a mountain of dialogue as the pigeon remains on the screen. Kuroo’s eyes drift towards the words. The pigeon, Ryouta, is confessing his undying love. Kuroo turns to Kenma, eyes wide.

“You’ve been ignoring me this whole time for a talking pigeon.”

Kenma shrugs, though the edges of his lips curl up into a smirk. Kuroo knows that look—it’s the one Kenma wears when he’s managed to get at Kuroo, shake up his normally composed front. The grin on Kenma’s lips doesn’t fade as he continues to read through the visual novel, Kuroo hovering somewhat nervously over his shoulder. Kuroo frowns. “Should I… Should I leave you two alone?”

Kenma rolls his eyes. “This must be very hard for you to swallow.” Which is also a kind of bird, Kuroo wants to point out, but right now there are more immediate and pressing matters at hand. He skims the computer screen once again. This Ryouta bird is a real romantic; he’ll give him that. He also has to praise the dialogue of the game.

No wonder Kenma is completely taken in. “I didn’t know you were into birds,” Kuroo teases, slinging an arm around his shoulder. “Should I ping Bokuto and Akaashi and see what they have to say—“

“No,” Kenma says, cutting him off. “Stop talking, this scene is kind of sad.”

Kuroo goes back to reading. Ryouta’s impassioned speech has turned into a dialog about how birds don’t live very long, especially compared to humans like the main character of the game. He then says something about having grown up next to the protagonist in his next, and having watched her become stronger as he stays by her side. A pang of hurt stabs through Kuroo’s chest, and he turns to Kenma. He swears he hears him sniffle.

Kuroo grimaces. “Ow. Who knew the game where you date birds could get so deep?” He can kind of see where this Ryouta pigeon is coming from. The thought of a world where he’s departed before Kenma has crossed his mind on several occasions, and while he’s confident that Kenma would move on some day he also knows it would take him a while. Kuroo can say the same for himself: it would be like having a candle burning to light his path for his entire life, only to have it be extinguished some day.

The screen flashes, and the protagonist promises they’ll spend the rest of Ryouta’s life together. Wordlessly, Kenma continues clicking through the dialogue. Kuroo can’t blame him; this really hit both him and Kenma where it hurt. A few more exchanges later and the route is over, and the two of them were back at the ridiculously pink load screen. Kuroo nudges Kenma once again. “Are all the routes painful like this?”

Kenma shakes his head. “There’s a joke route where you date a bird obsessed with pudding. The rest are all pretty good, though. I saved Ryouta for last,” he mutters, and a flush appears on his cheeks.

Something warm spreads through Kuroo’s chest, but he dismisses it as the summer heat. “Show me another route. One that you think I’d like.”

Kenma practically snorts. “Okay.”

Two hours later, Kuroo is screaming and cursing at Kenma’s computer screen, yelling in anguish as they play through Nageki’s sad, sad tale. He asks Kenma to romance Yuuya next, who Kenma admits to being his second favorite because “he acts like he’s cool but he’s actually a soft-hearted dork.” Kuroo spends hours mocking Sakuya for being a stuck-up brat, and cringes as they get to the mysterious Doctor Shuu. Kenma follows up with Okosan’s ridiculous, pudding-filled route, that has Kuroo laughing in hysterics. And then they go back to Ryouta again, sweet, adorable Ryouta who the protagonist has known since he was a baby egg.

Finally, they are done. Kuroo glances at the screen of his cell phone; it is three in the morning. He stretches, letting out a loud yawn. “Man, at least we’re done. Good thing there isn’t any school tomorrow.”

Kenma closes his eyes, shutting his laptop and setting it on the floor. “Actually, we aren’t. There’s the secret ending that we unlocked when I finished romancing Ryouta.”

Kuroo blinks, lips parting slightly. “Wait. There’s a secret end… And you waited for me?”

Kenma shrugs again, rolling over so he is on his back. Kuroo knows that’s the closest thing he’s going to get to a ‘yes’. The same warm feeling from earlier returns, burning hotter and brighter than ever before. Now it is his turn to grin, giving Kenma a light punch on the shoulder that jolts his eyes open.

“Aw, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me! I’m so honored.” He must be beaming like an idiot, but he doesn’t care. Kenma reaches over and gives him a hard shove.

“Go turn off the lights.”

They wake up eight hours later bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, ready to tackle the final route with fervent vigor. The two of them are so transfixed that they forget to eat all through it, or to brush their teeth, and Kuroo would be lying if he said he didn’t shed a tear or two at the story. The route is full of twists and turns, taking on a much darker tone than the rest of the story, but Kuroo loves it.

They go out for an early dinner once they are done, discussing the game with great excitement while they walk to the cafe. They sit down, and open the menu.

Neither of them can bear to order chicken.

FILL: Team Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, G

[underscored]

no tags, nozoeli
487 words

The stars blink white light in the night sky. It is a perfect night for stargazing-- almost pitch-dark out, with few clouds, the streetlamps outside so dim that they barely distract her. Most importantly of all, her roommate Honoka is fast asleep, snoring in the bed beside her. Eli adores Honoka, but there isn’t a moment of peace when she’s conscious and around. She smiles, enjoying the crisp, cool sound of quiet.

They have a nice view from the high tower of their boarding school. Eli gazes out the window, tracing constellations with her mind; she thinks she can find Orion if she searches hard enough. A shooting star blasts across the sky in the distance, and Eli almost gasps with excitement. She hasn’t seen one while stargazing before, and it almost feels like magic.

Eli’s eyes widen. Wait a minute. It’s almost like the shooting star has spun around and is flying towards her room.

She remains transfixed where she stands, unsure how she should react. Logically, she knows that stars aren’t supposed to fall fro the sky, and they especially aren’t supposed to fly across the cityscape and towards her window. But something tells her there’s nothing dangerous about any of this and that she shouldn’t run away. The light speeding towards her is friendly, inviting, with a strange twinkle that almost seems mischievous, and as it continues speeding in her direction Eli notices that it is surrounding the shape of a girl. She flies up towards Eli’s window and raps on it, once, twice, before breathing on the window and tracing the words “open up!” with her fingertips.

Eli pushes the window open, eyes wide and practically shaking with shock. The girl only giggles, taking a seat on the windowsill. Now she is nearby Eli can see that the girl has a smaller human flying by her side, barely the size of a thumb— “A fairy!” she exclaims.

The girl giggles, twirling one of her long, purple pigtails. “She has a name, you know. Her name is Nico,” she says, gesturing towards the fairy with a wink. Nico huffs, crossing her arms and sticking her nose in the air. “And I’m Nozomi. I’m very sorry for barging in like this,” she says, though the little wink that follows tells Eli that Nozomi probably isn’t very sorry at all. “You must be Eli Ayase, and the sleeping girl is?”

“Kousaka Honoka,” Eli mutters. The gravity of the earlier events is starting to sink in. A mysterious girl flew into her window, and somehow knows her name? Fairies are real? “Am I dreaming?”

Nozomi laughs, and Eli swears she can hear the tinkling of bells. “Maybe. Who’s to decide if it’s a dream, though, as long as it feels real to you? Now come on,” she says, reaching out and tugging on Eli’s arm, “Let’s wake your roommate up. It’s time to go on an adventure.”

FILL: Team Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, G

[underscored]

internalized homophobia, iwaoi
449 words

Sparks fly and stars dance the first time they meet. Quite literally, in fact-- Oikawa Tooru has been hit by a series of quick spells, including one that has caused him to recoil backwards in pain, stumbling closer to the outside of the arena. Iwaizumi stares his opponent down, calmly observing the Slytherin boy with a reputation for big talk. Electricity dances at the tip of his wand as he mutters another spell underneath his breath, sending a jolt of white light crashing towards Oikawa with a flourish.

Iwaizumi’s heard the rumors, and hears the murmurs in the crowd. Oikawa Tooru is the first Mudblood in Slytherin for years, Oikawa Tooru hasn’t quite figured out how to channel magic yet, Oikawa Tooru might just be a Muggle who somehow managed to sneak past the wards. Iwaizumi thinks it’s all silly. Of course Oikawa isn’t sure what to do, when he’s a first-year in an environment who doesn’t watch out for those who haven’t learned this all their lives. Besides, he’s quick on his feet, Iwaizumi thinks as Oikawa dodges a Jelly-Legs Hex. There is something special about this boy, much as he is loath to admit it.

Shaking, Oikawa raises his wand. White, blinding light bursts out of it in a single go, illuminating the entire room with the fires of his resistance.

Iwaizumi lifts a hand to his eyes to shield his vision. Before he knows it, another curse is sent flying towards him, crashing into his stomach and causing him to drop to the ground. A yell of “Expelliarmus” in the distance later and his wand is sucked out from his hand, hurtling in Oikawa’s direction. His opponent grins as the referee declares this his victory. Iwaizumi narrows his eyes.

He can’t shake the feeling that there’s something different about Oikawa: some sort of thread that ties them together, a strange bond.

Iwaizumi spends years wondering why he’s so drawn to Oikawa. They butt heads constantly, banter with each other in class, and sometimes Oikawa teases him so much that he feels his cheeks flush bright red. Yet there are the soft, tender moments that Iwaizumi cannot quite explain—how Oikawa brushes his hand against his while they study in the library, or how Oikawa pokes his nose when he tries to explain Muggle jokes. The one time they locked lips in the Forbidden Forest, a Gryffindor and Slytherin engaged in an act wrong on so many levels. But he never knows why Oikawa’s special, what makes him so drawn to him, until he finds himself standing next to Oikawa as his best man on his wedding day.

Realization is like Godric Gryffindor’s sword through his chest.

FILL: Team Aldini Takumi/Yukihira Souma,G

[nyatsuuuu]

No Tags, Oikawa Tooru/Iwaizumi Hajime

The older Kitsune bully Oikawa bc his tail is not fluffy enough. His childhood oni friend, Iwa-chan, comforts him when he's down.

FILL: Team Kominato Ryousuke/Kuramochi Youichi, G

[bandera]

Sawamura Eijun/Miyuki Kazuya, Daiya no Ace
no content warnings.




I'd never kiss a frog, not in a hundred, million, billion years!"