Bonus Round 6: Remixes

[referees]

The event's almost over, and you've made it this far, congrats! This round encourages you to look back at everything the SASO has made and use it as inspiration.

This round is CLOSED as of 7PM on August 18 EDT. Late fills may be posted, but they will not receive points.

RULES

• Choose a fanwork created by other participants in a previous main or bonus round of SASO and create a new piece based on it. You could create a fanart of another work, an FST inspired by a piece’s style, retell another person’s fanfic from another point of view, create a new fanfic inspired by a great piece of art... go wild!
• You cannot remix your teammates' works.
• You must have permission from the original creator. There's a blanket permissions post here (feel free to add yourself to it!), or you can leave a comment on their original post asking for permission.
• You must include the dreamwidth link to the original work in your post.
• Since all fills are based on previous works, there will be no prompts for this round. Simply post your fill as a comment in response 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 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 Grandstand, G

[elucidatedlucy]

Tags: Plant horror to a degree
Words: 500
Remix of luckycricket33's Chinatsu/Mako (Ballroom e Youkoso) from Round 4.

"Like you'd understand."

Chinatsu's words fell and she could feel the thorns climbing out of her mouth - vines wrapping around her tongue - iron cresting against the back of her teeth with the violent clash of bitterness.

Roses would rise to outfit her, and Chinatsu didn't care to brush it aside.

Blood came green and fresh at the gentlest pricks, and people knew not to touch - they knew not to come, when they saw her face. The music still played. She sat from afar and allowed the leaves to make their way into her ears.

Bugs still bothered her. In studios and on a stage, in massive ballrooms and dinner affairs, there would never be something so unsightly. It was a fact of her new life. Wasps and bees found their way into the cracks in her defense, and she would jolt in secret horror, only out of sight. Growing hair became a place for nests to be made. Despite how she shuddered at the feeling of legs and wings, nothing would sting her anymore - as though they knew she was nothing to fear.

Insects wouldn't tell secrets. It was a poor consolation.

She sat in sun, eyes closed to a world she could hardly see anymore. Chinatsu would not throw this away, but she took care of her thorns - they shone, without aphids or disease. Every chance to draw in another admirer, to prick and burn, was a delight. The red in her petals shone brighter at single drops of blood, and butterflies would come with the attraction.

It drew more.

"I think it's amazing."

Hair that shone like wheat. Diminutive and soft and everything she wasn't - Mako was reachable - touchable - skin so translucent, Chinatsu could have fallen through and found the girl was nothing but a mocking vision.

"Chinatsu," she said - tea reflecting flowers and sun - "How long did it take to grow it out?"

Her vines could wrap around the cup when it was too hot to touch. "Years," she said. There was an expression that went with that. Chinatsu couldn't remember it, but the thorns spoke of contempt and pride. It was well enough. "Other people cut it down too easily." She didn't have that space.

But neither did Mako.

How she could be so soft - sometimes, with her that close, Chinatsu could feel herself spreading around her, and down - heavy and untenable. Mako could stay straight-backed and calm through any torrent.

And when ladybugs would land to lose themselves among the maze, Mako would hold out a hand.

"Look!"

Never letting her face too close, lest the vines climb into her ears, her eyes, her mouth. Chinatsu could imagine it sometimes. Letting it happen - but they'd never let go, then. Not till she was just the same, with bitter juice setting through skin, enough to repel anything and everyone.

"Do you notice it much?" Mako would ask.

Chinatsu scoffed. "They're everywhere." Keeping her head down - keeping her mouth closed - feeling the sharp sting all the more, as the thorns spiraled back down to settle in her gut.

FILL: TEAM MATSUOKA RIN/NANASE HARUKA, T

[fullofjoy]

Mostly censored nudity (though he's not really naked. Pretend he has swim shorts) also old memes
Remix of putsch's fill In Which Haru Goes to Jail

Haru can generally help himself. But there's one situation that he always needs help in...

FILL: Team Shimizu Kiyoko/Yachi Hitoka, G

[inkythoughts]

Remix of saffroncity's Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru [alo(v)e you vera much] from BR3 - AO3 post here
No Tags

FILL: Team sawamura daichi/sugawara koushi RATING: G

[carriecmoney]

Tags: none

Remix of saffroncity's Seijoh paintball fic, it's like the hunger games, but better, aka some sticky note doodles of it :D

FILL: TEAM MATSUOKA RIN/NANASE HARUKA, G

[fullofjoy]

Shirtless mers
Remix of jinbeizaki's graphic in which Rin becomes merRin to swim with merHaru! I asked for permission via PM.



They're spinning all around in the water.

FILL: Team Matsuoka Rin/Nanase Haruka, T

[alder_knight]

Yamazaki Sousuke/Tachibana Makoto, Free!
tags: non-graphic mentions of violence/injury
wordcount: ~895
time: 5:15

Podfic of The Space Between Breaths by miaoujones

Available for listening at Vocaroo: http://vocaroo.com/i/s1KxAchRALqo

(if there are better hosting sites, please feel free to let me know.)

Fill: Team Furuya Satoru/Miyuki Kazuya, T

[kazuyaloveseijun]

Inui Sadaharu & Kaidoh Kaoru, Prince of Tennis
no major tags, snakes
word count: 514

Remix of psiten's art where Inui accidentally turn Kaidoh into a snake

“Ssssenpai,” Kaoru hisses out, clinging to Inui’s arm. “How much longer?”

“I’m working on it Kaidoh, I appreciate your patience,” his tall black haired senpai says, measuring out foul liquids Kaoru can’t smell but can taste on his tongue. “I’d appreciate it more if you didn’t crush my arm while I’m doing this,” he adds as an afterthought.

“Ssssorry,” he says, loosening his grip on Inui’s arm.

He knows the table would be more convenient for Inui, allowing him greater freedom of movement and comfort but the table is cold, as is the rest of the science lab classroom and Kaoru’s instinct propels him toward warmth. At least he’d had the sense left to ask Inui to pick him up rather than just instinctively crawling up his senpai’s pants leg; that would have been hard to live down, even harder than having been turned into a snake in the first place.

“It suits you, viper,” Momoshiro had said when he’d seen, causing Kaoru to strike at him, wiping the grin off his face.

“You’re still fast,” Fuji had smiled. “And you look strong; if we could train you to hold a racket we’d still have a chance of winning.”

Kaoru doesn’t find any of this funny. He takes comfort in the fact that Inui doesn’t seem amused either, that he’s working his best on reversing Kaoru’s snake form and Kaoru places his trust in his mentor completely; he knows Inui will find a way out of this, and is probably the only person capable of it. He may be the only person capable of turning Kaoru into a snake in the first place but he overlooks that.

He watches Inui pour more liquids together, red smoke emitting from the beaker. He has no idea what it means but Inui seems somewhat relieved, muttering under his breath as he works, calculations and chemical names Kaoru doesn’t understand. It starts to lull Kaoru into a sleep-like state, clinging to the warmth of Inui’s bicep comfortably.

“Almost there, Kaidoh,” he says, waking Kaoru up. “Let me just…” he uncaps the top on a jar and stares into it tensely.

“What is it ssssenpai?” Kaoru asks, Inui’s sudden shift from calm and serious to concerned setting him on edge.

“I’m out of sugar,” he says. “I thought I would at least make it palatable for you after what I did. Should we go to the store, Kaidoh?”

“No thank you sssenpai,” Kaoru hisses. “I can handle it.”

“As you say,” Inui relents, coaxing Kaoru off his arm and onto the floor, setting the beaker in front of him.

Kaoru doesn’t hesitate, he dips his tongue in, unsure how snakes drink, if snakes drink but it seems to be doing something. He feels hot and tingly all over and just as suddenly as it started it’s over and he’s standing in the classroom, completely naked and greatly relieved.

“I’ll…go find your clothes. They must still be on the tennis courts.” Inui adjusts his glasses, heading toward the door.

Kaoru hisses. “Thank you senpai. I knew you could do it.”

FILL: Team Matsuoka Rin/Nanase Haruka, T

[alder_knight]

Matsuoka Rin & Nanase Haruka, Free!
tags: canon-compliant character death, drowning, bloodletting, ningyo lore, the matsuoka family curse
wordcount: 1800
time: 11:04

Podfic of blood for blood by horchata

Available for listening at Vocaroo: http://vocaroo.com/i/s1tfTZQO53cw


(if there are better hosting sites, please feel free to let me know. I apologize for the quality of my microphone on plosive consonants...)

FILL: Team Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou, G

[miyukitty]

Art fill, no major tags. Pokemon AU.

Remix of dynamite's VERY NOT G-RATED iwaoi pokemon crackfic.

I've been waiting very impatiently for permission to share this on the first page ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯

FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, T

[mother_herbivore]

tags: nudity (kind of... there are no genitals on display)

Remix of yrindor's Kinjou/Makishima (yowapeda) fic from BR5!



i took "ageless, sexless" literally haha
click the image for full view!

FILL: TEAM KOZUME KENMA/KUROO TETSUROU, T

[hapaxlegomenon]

Remix of THIS fill by nobetterpicture. Blanket permission granted in permissions thread.

Fukutomi Juichi/Shinkai Hayato; Yowamushi Pedal

Word Count: 590
Tags: Violence (fighting), blood

Shinkai has barely gotten the words out -- “You know, Juichi, I never thought you’d be so weak” -- before the world whirls around him and he feels his back slam against the wall, driving the air from his lungs and his teeth through his tongue, and his mouth bursts with pain and the tang of blood. He gasps in surprise. Fukutomi’s fist rips in his shirt, and for a moment they both just… stop.

They’re frozen in tableau, the trickling blood pooling under Shinkai’s tongue, and Fukutomi with his shoulders set, expression twisted into something ugly. His fist is solid and unmoving where it presses against Shinkai’s collarbone, but his mouth shakes, ever so slightly. It’s sunny, and hot, and Shinkai hears the droning of summer cicadas before his own heat fires up from somewhere inside him and everything drowns under a surge of roaring red.

He shifts, back and to the side, one shoulder scraping against the brick, and with a shout he draws back his own fist and punches Fukutomi in the jaw.

They fall heavily on the pavement, and Shinkai hits him, again, and again, and even though it doesn’t register until later, Fukutomi doesn’t fight back. He covers his face with his forearms and struggles underneath Shinkai, but he doesn’t fight back. Shinkai doesn’t realize. He thinks he’s screaming something, but he’s not sure what, and then he hears other voices -- familiar ones, calling his name, and Fukutomi’s, and the sound on cycling cleats on pavement -- and then someone’s grabbing his arms, restraining him. Shinkai is strong, though. Stronger than any of his friends. He breaks free and someone swears and says “Toudou, help me.”

Shinkai snarls, but then he smells something sweet and vaguely floral. Toudou’s shampoo. He blinks, and the world shifts back into focus. Toudou is wrapped around his left arm, head tucked in close beside Shinkai’s own, and Arakita is swearing a blue streak on Shinkai’s other side. He almost falls when Shinkai abruptly stops moving. Shinkai straightens up and sits back on Fukutomi’s thighs, and he vaguely notices a throbbing pain in his hand and knees.

“What the fuck, Shinkai, what the hell are you doing, huh?” Arakita says, but Shinkai ignores him.

Fukutomi is still beneath him, arms still raised defensively, breath fast and eyes squeezed shut. There’s already the beginning of a swelling bruise on his cheek, and his nose is bleeding. Shinkai watches him for a moment, then turns his head and spits blood on the pavement.

Toudou’s hand is rubbing anxious circles on Shinkai’s back, and he doesn’t know when that started, or when Arakita stopped swearing at him.

He sees a blurry teardrop fall quietly on Fukutomi’s chest and he doesn’t know when he started crying, either.

“You hurt him,” he manages to choke out. Fukutomi shudders. “That Sohoku rider. You… he might not be able to ride anymore. How could you do that?”

Fukutomi starts shaking, and he says, in an uncharacteristically quiet, uncertain voice, “You were right. I am weak.” He squeezes his eyes tighter shut and then opens them, and Shinkai crumples down on top of him again, ignoring the shouts of alarm from Toudou and Arakita and burying his face against Fukutomi’s neck, fighting with his own emotions, anger and fear and confusion and love and betrayal and --

“I don’t want to be right about that,” he pleads, and his bruised knuckles and bitten tongue throb with the fast tempo beat of his half-broken heart.

FILL: TEAM KOZUME KENMA/KUROO TETSUROU, G

[hapaxlegomenon]

Remix of THIS fill by nobetterpicture. Blanket permission granted in permissions thread.

Fukutomi Juichi/Shinkai Hayato; Yowamushi Pedal

Word Count: 400
Tags: Mythology/gods-ish
I don’t even know where this came from

Fukutomi is impossibly, brilliantly bright. Of course he is, bright and strong and harsh. He has awesome, terrible power, able to burn and blind with as little effort as breathing. And for all that, he shines down on the world in tempered radiance and gives life to everything, because he’s warm and careful and loving. Everything comes from him. He walks through the sky, beaming light down on the Earth below, letting the plants grow and warming the world. All manner of living things wake for him, opening their eyes when he approaches, always from the east, walking with the same stately pace, and they unfurl their leaves and stretch with languid yawns and throw open curtains to let him into their homes.

Shinkai has watched him, forever. Admired him -- loved him, even -- but always from a distance, following from a distance, fading in and out of the night sky as he chases after Fukutomi, chasing and chasing and reaching desperately for the light. He can never quite grasp it, though. Anything he finally catches, it slips through his eager fingers and bounces away, back to Earth, where the few scurrying and hunting things that don’t worship in Fukutomi’s sun will pause to look up and watch the dimmed path of his reflected light. He aches with love and adoration for Fukutomi, who never looks back as he marches his endless journey through the sky. Shinkai has been chasing him for a long, long time. Sometimes, he gets closer, and swells round and bright with excitement and determination, only to fade away to darkened exhaustion when his energy depletes and Fukutomi surges further away once again.

Every once in a long-awaited while, Shinkai reaches him, and he slips reckless and elated in between Fukutomi and their beloved Earth, and then Fukutomi finally sees him, and smiles at him, and Shinkai greedily sucks up all the light for himself. He reaches for Fukutomi, and Fukutomi reaches back, and sometimes Shinkai imagines that they can touch. They let the Earth fall dark for a moment, wrapped up in each other, but then Fukutomi’s smile fades and he has to look away, back to the Earth, and resume his interminable march, in impossibly wide strides, pulling further and further away from Shinkai with every step. The sun brightens over the world again and Shinkai forces himself to take up the chase once more.

FILL: TEAM KOZUME KENMA/KUROO TETSUROU, G

[hapaxlegomenon]

Remix of THIS fill by persephonali. Blanket permission granted in permissions thread.

Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou; Haikyuu!!

Word Count: 800
Tags: None

Kuroo wakes up in the best way. He comes to awareness slowly, and admittedly a little reluctantly, but it’s the weekend and he mentally praises everything he can think of that there’s no alarm ringing and shaking against the bedside table. Instead, there’s a faint glow of morning light through their not-quite-thick-enough curtains, the bitter scent and puttering sound of brewing coffee drifting in from the kitchen, and, best of all, Bokuto’s arm heavy and comfortable on his hip. He lies still for several long moments, absorbing the morning and trying to convince himself to wake the rest of the way up.

The pillow over his head is carefully lifted, and now he can hear birdsong through the open window.

“I know you’re awake,” Bokuto says, almost whispering. His breath ghosts across Kuroo’s cheek and makes him shiver, and Kuroo is torn between a desire to reclaim the pillow and lounge in sleepy comfort, or rolling over.

He settles on the latter. Bokuto’s big and muscley and his big muscles make for excellent substitute pillows. Bokuto laughs when Kuroo flops around and shoves his face against his bicep, and Kuroo only grumbles a little bit when Bokuto worms his arm around Kuroo’s shoulders and hugs him tight against his chest.

Bokuto isn’t wearing his usual sleeping shirt, and Kuroo smells cut grass and soap on his skin. Bokuto’s already been up and gone for his morning run and showered, and Kuroo’s still in bed. He feels vaguely pathetic about that, but also -- he’s pretty certain that morning runs are the work of the devil. He much prefers running in the late evening, when the sun is down and the pavement is warm from the day but the air has cooled and, more importantly, he’s actually awake and ready to wind down for the night.

He’d thought owls were supposed to like being up at night, but Bokuto has almost as strong an aversion to Kuroo’s evening runs as Kuroo does to the morning ones. They compromise by running together in the middle of the day, when the sun is high and hot and they’re both unhappy about it.

Bokuto jogs his shoulder, and Kuroo blinks a sleepy scowl at him. “It’s like ten-thirty,” he says, in a tone that suggests that ten-thirty is somehow not an appropriate time to wake up on the weekends. He pauses to kiss Kuroo’s forehead. “You wanna get up now?” he asks, not even trying to hide his eagerness. “I made coffee and breakfast and I texted Kenma, he’s gonna come over to play that new game later but we have time to go shopping or to the library or something first if you want.”

Kuroo zeroes in on the most important word in Bokuto’s little speech. “Coffee,” he agrees, and Bokuto’s breath is toothpaste-minty when he laughs in Kuroo’s face and kisses him again.

“Yeah yeah. You addict.” He says it fondly, as if Kuroo’s need for caffeine hadn’t been a point of contention for them in the first few months they lived together, before Bokuto aggressively learned how to use the coffee machine and Kuroo figured out how to navigate mornings with an exhaustingly energetic partner without being (as Kenma put it, during a somewhat forlorn phone call) a troublesome grouch.

Kuroo realizes that Bokuto is watching him with a worried, self-conscious expression, and he can tell that the prolonged stillness is starting to get to him. He finally rolls and stretches and makes slow movements towards getting out of bed. Bokuto is on his feet in a second, and he reaches a hand out to Kuroo in some parody of gallantry. Kuroo uses it to pull himself up and into Bokuto’s arms. He kisses him -- close-mouthed, because Bokuto’s lips might be minty fresh but Kuroo’s morning breath is legendary in its awfulness.

“I love you,” Kuroo mumbles against his mouth. He feels Bokuto’s answering grin.

“Yeah? Even before coffee?”

Kuroo steps deliberately on his foot on the way to the kitchen. Bokuto yelps and laughs and he perches eagerly on the counter while Kuroo drains his first cup, then immediately launches into a detailed story of what he’d seen on his run that morning, where he’d gone, what he and Akaashi talked about yesterday while Kuroo was in class.

When he goes to refill his mug, Kuroo catches one of Bokuto’s flailing hands and squeezes it tight.

“Always,” he says firmly, and Bokuto blinks, then ducks his head in embarrassed relief.

“I know,” Bokuto mumbles at his lap. “Just, sometimes… you know…” he flounders for words for a moment, then gives up with a self-conscious shrug.

Kuroo squeezes his hand again and goes in for a kiss that Bokuto dodges with a loud complaint about his disgusting breath. “I do.”

Fill: team Kuroo Tetsurou/Tsukishima Kei, G

[hqqt]

Tags: character death (prior)
Word Count: 546
Original work: Oikawa Tooru/Iwaizumi Hajime pushing daises au by kiyala

Dying was never what Hajime pictured for himself. But then who would? The only person that fixated on death is Oikawa, who always lived like the end is around the corner, just waiting to trap him.

Hajime can feel Oikawa's eyes on his back (on his ass) as he works his arms through the last of his push ups, feeling the burn just like he did when he was completely alive. Each time he brings up his state with Oikawa, Oikawa brushes him off, tells him not to think too hard about it. It's a gift, Iwa-chan! Don't look it in the mouth, that would be terribly rude and it might just spit on you. He'd scowled but obeyed, because for one thing, Oikawa is usually right, and the last thing Hajime wants is to go back into the ground for the worms to chew through his cold flesh.

He finishes his fiftieth push up and returns Oikawa's morning greeting. Sometimes, when Oikawa isn't forcing himself to be cheerful or grin from ear to ear, Hajime wonders if his life takes something from Oikawa. But then he scowls and puts it out of his mind. Oikawa is a stubborn fuck and wouldn't allow Hajime to stay dead, no matter what it does to himself.

He leaves the spot on the floor to Oikawa, stepping around him, imagining being able to loop his hand around his waist and nuzzle against his skin like before.

The shower helps wash away those thoughts. They're worst in the mornings, when he's been left alone, when Oikawa isn't distracting him from himself and there's no one else around. That's the other thing he never realised about being dead (or close enough) - you spend a lot of time alone.

After he's clean and has rubbed his hair dry with a towel, wondering at the fact that it still grows, he sets to work in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for two, because he knows full well that if he doesn't Oikawa will break his fast with three slices of the first pie of the day, and while Hajime doesn't think he needs to worry about heart attacks anymore, he's not letting Oikawa tempt one.

The eat together, and pretend this is normal. They pretend that Oikawa doesn't want to close the gap between them and kiss Hajime over the table. To have their first kiss again, with no barriers. They pretend that Hajime doesn't want to kiss him back just as much.

Once they have the shop set up, Oikawa finishing up with the baking and Hajime managing the front of house, Hajime pulls out their role of cling wrap with a lopsided grin that he knows Oikawa loves.

They kiss through the plastic. Hajime closes his eyes and pretends he can feel Oikawa's breath directly on his skin, that there isn't anything between them. He pretends that there aren't more barriers than just the cling wrap. He pretends he's still alive.

"I'll open the shop," Hajime says, a little before he's entirely caught his breath, and flashes Oikawa a grin before he heads out the front again.

He would take this over death any day, and the only thing that could keep him from Oikawa now is his own dead body.

FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA, T

[blueminuet]

Inui Sadaharu/Kaidou Kaoru (Prince of Tennis)
Tags: body horror, transformation, snakes, implied nudity
Word Count: 535

A remix of psiten’s fill here.


Inui runs a hand along Kaidou’s bare abdomen, checking. Kaidou is slightly squirming against the cold metal of the worktable that’s pressed against his back. He’d complained about the cold many times, but at least that was preferable to…

Inui pauses in his examination. The soft skin beneath his fingertips begins changing, slowly becoming harder, sleeker.

“Senpai!” There’s fear lancing through Kaidou’s expression, his eyes wide, fearful.

Inui flinches. “Kaidou.” Inui shuts his eyes, despite himself. He’s seen seen the transformation too many times; he’s gathered enough data.

He just needs it to stop now.

When he opens his eyes, there’s a snake, long and coiled, its green scales flecked throughout with a white diamond pattern.

“Sorry, Kaidou,” Inui manages to say. “I thought we had it this time.”

Kaidou hisses and curls in on himself. Inui instantly reaches out a hand for him, and Kaidou begins coiling around his arm. Kaidou doesn’t like the cold of the table in either form, much less in his cold-blooded one. Kaidou moves until his entire weight is wrapped around Inui’s arm.

“I’ll try something else,” Inui says.

Kaidou hisses into the shell of his ear.

---

“Still no luck in reversing it?”

Kaidou is draped around Inui’s shoulders, like a scarf. Inui has gotten used to the ever present weight, unburdened by it as he chops and stirs and blends and calculates new permutations of the same juice that should — one hopes — reverse the effect.

Fuji is still hovering, waiting for the answer to his question.

“Not yet,” Inui says. “But I believe we’re getting closer. In the last transformation, he kept his human form for 4.23 seconds longer.”

Fuji looms over, several inches past the personal space bubble that Inui prefers, and reaches out to ghost his fingers over Kaidou’s scales. “Yes, I do believe you two are getting closer.”

Kaidou hisses at him, grumpily.

“Keep up these close quarters and you’ll be the best of the Seigaku doubles pairs,” Fuji continues, unfazed. “If only Kaidou can learn to properly hold a racket with his tail.”

Kaidou slithers, moving so that his head is on the opposite side of Inui’s neck from Fuji, and he hides his head in Inui’s collar.

“He can still understand you, you know,” Inui says. “It’s just that when he tries to speak, we can’t understand him.”

“I know,” Fuji says. “But for what it’s worth, he sounds the same to me.”

When Kaidou hisses, Inui jumps, startled at Kaidou’s tongue fluttering against his neck.

Fuji laughs.

---

“Senpai.”

Inui grabs Kaidou’s hand. He might as well; he’s not sure how long Kaidou will have a hand.

“Senpai, if I change back again,” Kaidou says. “I just want you to know…”

Inui’s still staring at him. The skin on Kaidou’s hand is still smooth, for now, but he can feel it hardening, very slowly.

“Thank you for trying, senpai,” Kaidou says.

Inui’s breath catches, as he feels the skin on Kaidou’s hand turning to scales.

He’s failed.

Again.

He tries to answer Kaidou, but instead all he manages is a nod. Kaidou is smiling as the transformation overtakes him.

Inui lets go, shuts his eyes again, and waits.

FILL: TEAM IWAIZUMI HAJIME/OIKAWA TOORU, G

[sotongsotong]

Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru, Haikyuu!
no tags
669 words

Remix of kiyala's "Kyoutani is a coward" fill here.


He says “I’m leaving”, and Shigeru doesn’t look up, he only looks down, down to the mug of tea in his hands, to his feet and everything else beneath, and he keeps steady.

(In his head: to be brave, to be brave, to be brave—)

Shigeru takes a breath and spells the truth; it’s not him who’s running, it’s Kyoutani, always, always Kyoutani who shrinks and fades into some— Shigeru doesn’t know— where, and he doesn’t choose to follow because this is not a rabbit hole he’s willing to jump into and endlessly fall for.

This isn’t even his chase in the first place at all.

Then, he says “I’m not coming back”, and at this, slowly, Shigeru does look up.

He is still steady.

And because it’s not him who’s the real coward here, something in him caves and from its rubble comes loose the echo of a newly unearthed resolution: go, because I’m letting you go; go, because that’s what runners do best in anyway.

So, Shigeru finally cuts the finishing line ribbon, regardless of whether Kyoutani was any nearer or further in crossing it after all this time, and he tells him, “Good. Don’t.”

With one suitcase and no glances back, Kyoutani flees.

It’s funny, Shigeru thinks, watching him blend into the crowd down the street, that this is the last time he’ll grit his teeth and heave ”as usual”. He’s trying to believe that it should be relieving.



*



To be brave is to:

i) look at a leaving back and know why it’s retreating.



*



“Is that all?” Watari asks, just to be sure.

Shigeru nods. “That’s about it. There shouldn’t be any more.”

“If you say so.” His friend purses his lips, but doesn’t comment on anything else. He just shrugs, and Shigeru notes the tiniest slump in the set of his shoulders as they dip to accommodate the box he’s asked his friend to pass on to a certain someone.

(It’s filled with the rest of Kyoutani’s abandoned belongings.)

He pretends to be engrossed in rearranging the potted plants by his bedroom window when Watari flips out his phone and excuses himself for a bit.

It’s barely a minute later when Watari comes back in, frowning, his mouth opening, closing, opening, then again, closing, like a goldfish’s erratic breathing, and the next thing that drops out of it hardly surprises Shigeru at all: “He’ll text you his current address, said that you can drop the box off yourself.”

Perhaps it’s irony, perhaps it’s bile, perhaps it’s laughter even, that rises through his throat and settles on the roof of his mouth, sticking it to it like the gooey bitter aftertaste of a cough mixture you force down to recover from some sort of illness; he snatches a roll of cellophane tape from the side drawer and tears it, viciously, into long strips that he sticks onto the drawer’s side edges, and motions for Watari to return the box to him.

As-fucking-usual,” Shigeru spits out, to no one in particular.

(As if.)



*



To be brave is to:

i) look at a leaving back and know why it’s retreating.

ii) seal a box shut anyway, be it half-full or half-empty.



*



The next day, Shigeru knocks.

Kyoutani opens the door.

Shigeru gives him his things.

Kyoutani dares to ask if he wants to come in.

But that’s not the sort of bravery he wants from Kyoutani, so Shigeru moves to leave anyway.

That’s when he calls for him to wait.

And Shigeru does, he waits.

It’s just too bad then, that neither of them hear what they want from each other, and the rift deepens further.

(In the beat of his heart: when will you, oh, when will you ever learn better—)



*



To be brave is to:

i) look at a leaving back and know why it’s retreating.

ii) seal a box shut anyway, be it half-full or half-empty.

iii) stand your ground, even when your very world is shaking

Fill: Team Matsuoka Rin/Nanase Haruka, T

[platina]

Matsuoka Rin/Mikoshiba Momotarou, Free!

no tags... I think, lol

Remix of babster's fill. Or rather a serious bsns continuation. Preview just in case.


[[ FULL IMAGE ]]

FILL: TEAM GRANDSTAND, G

[mother_herbivore]

tags: body horror (kind of?)
almost rated it T for Tasteful sideboob cuz i couldn't keep my dfab makishima headcanon out of this

remix of tsunderekita's Kinjou/Makishima fill from BR3!




click the image for full size!

FILL: Team Grandstand, PG

[babster]

tags: a single swear
Word count: 830
Remix of savetanaka's TanaNoya HP fill for BR5

Karasuno's champion was the last to be announced. The school waited with bated breath for the Goblet to reveal who would be representing them in the Tournament. Suddenly, the Goblet shot out a stream of fire, which materialized in old Ukai's hands as a slip of parchment.

“Karasuno's champion,” he said, “is Nishinoya Yuu.”

There was a cheer from the Gryffindor table. Noya shot several small fireworks displays from his wand as Tanaka raised him above his head with a shout of triumph. Hinata leapt out of his chair to high five Noya's free hand.

“Congratulations, Noya,” Tanaka said when they had quieted down some. “You deserve it. This is so cool! You're going to be the best champion Karasuno has ever had.”

“Thanks, Ryuu!” Noya replied, his eyes sparkling. “This is going to be awesome.”

~*~*~

“Holy shit, Ryuu,” Noya whispered, threading his hands through his hair. “A dragon? They're gonna make me fight a dragon?”

“A dragon?” Hinata cried. Noya and Tanaka turned around in surprise. They hadn't noticed he was behind them, and Noya wasn't sure whether he was amazed that Hinata had snuck up on them or irritated that he'd yelled out the thing Noya was trying to keep quiet. “Wow! Noya-senpai, are you scared?”

“Of course he's not scared,” Tanaka scoffed before Noya could answer. “My sister's a dragon trainer, scarier than any dragon, and he's not afraid of her.”

“That's right!” Noya said, putting his hands on his hips. “Just you watch, Hinata; your senpai is going to show you some real moves.”

“Wow!” Hinata's eyes sparkled. “You're so cool, Noya-senpai!” Noya laughed and mentally thanked Merlin and any other powers that might be listening for Tanaka.

~*~*~

“Thanks for earlier, with Hinata,” Noya said, later that night as they were about to fall asleep.

“No problem,” mumbled Tanaka.

“Ryuu?” Noya said quietly. “I am scared. Kind of. A little.” There was no response for several moments and Noya wondered if his friend had fallen asleep or if he'd have to repeat himself. He hoped not; he wasn't sure he could say it again.

“Yeah,” Tanaka said. “I know. It's ok.” Noya sighed in relief.

“It's just...people have died, you know? I don't want to die.” He heard rustling from next to him and wasn't surprised when Tanaka sat down on his bed.

“Hey,” he whispered fiercely. “You're not going to die, ok? You're quick and you're really good at defensive spells, you know? You're the coolest guy ever, Noya, and I'm gonna be cheering for you no matter what.”

“Thanks,” Noya smiled.

“And if you get scared, just imagine Kiyoko cheering for you.” Noya laughed and Tanaka laughed along with him. Ennoshita let out a vague threatening noise from his bed and they quickly stopped.

“Thanks, Ryuu,” he whispered. Tanaka smiled.

“No problem.” He stretched and stood up. “Night, Noya.”

“Night.”

As Noya drifted off to sleep, he realized he wouldn't need to imagine Kiyoko cheering for him. Just knowing Tanaka was there would be enough.

~*~*~

“Noya-senpai! That was so cool!” Hinata bounced excitedly around. “The way you were like whoosh and fwang and zip! And then you got the egg! So cool! I don't know if you heard me cheering. Tanaka-senpai was screaming really loud.”

“I wasn't screaming, I was yelling,” Tanaka corrected, scowling. “Because it was so exciting.”

“He was screaming,” Ennoshita confirmed. Tanaka turned bright red and Noya laughed, slinging an arm over his shoulders.

“Aw, Ryuu, were you worried about me?”

“'Course not.” He knocked their heads together. “I knew you could do it.” He changed the subject. “Hey, what's the deal with that egg, anyway?”

~*~*~


They found out the egg's secret a week later, when Noya opened it in the middle of the night and Tanaka grabbed it and lobbed it into the toilet.

“Huh,” Noya said, looking down at the egg. The screeching had turned into words in the water. “Good job.”

Tanaka gave him a bleary smile and stumbled back to bed.

~*~*~

The enchantment broke as Tanaka hit the platform. Wet and slightly dizzy, he slowly sat up and looked around. He could see Kenma next to him, in much the same condition. Someone dropped a blanket on him, warming and drying charms kicking in as soon as it touched his shoulders, but he could see there was still a crowd of people staring at the water. Some of them were beginning to mutter and look worried.

“Hey, where's Noya?” he asked. No one answered him, but he saw Ennoshita bite his lip and look back at the lake. “He's still in there?” Quickly, he stood and ran back towards the edge of platform. He felt someone try and grab his arm, but shook them off. He took a deep breath and jumped back into the water, determined to bring Noya back.

Fill: Team Furuya Satoru/Miyuki Kazuya, G

[kazuyaloveseijun]

Sawamura Eijun & Narumiya Mei & Kominato Haruichi, vaguely implied Furuya Satoru/Miyuki Kazuya, Daiya no A
no tags
words: 531

Remix of luckycricket33's adorable art

Satoru is on his lunch break when he hears the uproar start. He listens, leaning against barn door and chewing slowly, trying to discern if there’s anyone working right now that can break this up without his help; he hears worried voices, maybe Kanemaru and Toujou, and thinks it might be alright for him to continue his break until Miyuki comes running around the corner, wide eyed and head whipping around looking for him.

“Furuya! They’re at it again.”

Satoru nods, packing away the remainder of his lunch for later in his polar bear bento box, the one Miyuki prepares for him every day, before following Miyuki to back to the commotion, not that he needs anyone to show him where it is he can hear it just fine. The sound of the fight has drawn a few spectators, this hour usually slow as zoo patrons find their way to overpriced food stands and restaurants. They stand around looking worried or amused, whispering among themselves.

“That dog is going to eat the duck why don’t they do something?”

Satoru knows better; he knows Eijun, the petting zoo’s resident shiba inu, is mostly bark and no bite. It’s actually Mei, one of the ducks in the enclosure, that’s more dangerous. Several times a week Miyuki threatens to take him home and roast him for his behavior but Satoru thinks Miyuki might end up the worse for wear if he ever tries to make good on the threat; Mei is a duck but he’s the smartest, haughtiest, meanest duck Satoru has ever seen. Sometimes he wonders if Mei is part goose, the way he nips at their boots and pant legs, the way he defends his precious mound of dirt with quick strikes and flailing wings.

It’s the mound of dirt that’s always the disputed territory in the petting zoo, nestled inside the zoo, a place that should be peaceful and fun and educational for the visitors. They’ve talked about flattening it out but the animals would probably only find something else to fight over so it remains; for those reasons, not because everyone is scared of what Mei and Eijun would do to them if they came at the pile of dirt to destroy it.
Satoru wishes Chris was working today, Eijun really only listens to Chris, following him around every day he works, but Satoru is the next best at breaking up the disputes. Miyuki usually only makes things worse, the two of them teaming up on him to pull on his pant legs.

Satoru steps into the pen, ignoring the two of them as they squabble, all the animals except the red fox Haruichi keeping their distance from the loud barking and quacking. He walks between them and sits on the mound of dirt, drawing their attention to him. They both look so offended, directing their ire at him but he stares them down, refusing to budge. Eventually Eijun slinks off to sulk on his tire, curling up and glaring at Satoru until someone comes to pet him. Mei grows bored eventually, going off to float in the pond with the other ducks and everything is once more at peace.

Fill: Team Furuya Satoru/Miyuki Kazuya, G

[lemontongues]

no tags

remix of catlarks's Ryousuke/Tanba fill from round 2!

FILL: Team Grandstand, PG

[babster]

Tags: suggested amputation, mention of death
Word Count: 545
Remix of luckycricket33's BR5 Chinatsu/Akira red shoes fill

There once was a girl named Chinatsu who loved to dance. She was very talented, everyone agreed, strong and graceful and quick, but perhaps a bit too willful, a bit too proud. When she mastered the dances for her age group, she moved on until she could dance all the women's dances, even the special ones reserved for weddings and festivals. Having done so, Chinatsu cast her eye on the men's dances, which were faster and used the whole body, rather than focusing almost entirely on footwork.

“You shouldn't dance the men's dances,” her father told her one day. “It isn't done for a girl to dance them.”

“Why not?” Chinatsu asked. “I'm better at it than all of the men.”

“Don't say things like that,” her mother scolded her. “It isn't right for a girl to say such words.”

“Why not?” Chinatsu asked. “It's true.” And her parents shook their heads and pursed their lips, but didn't say anything else, for she was right.

For her birthday, her parents gave her a pair of delicate, beautiful red dancing slippers. Chinatsu had been happy dancing barefoot or in her boots, but she was enchanted by the slippers, and wore them as often as possible. It seemed to those who watched her that she danced even more beautifully in the slippers. Certainly, she danced more often, and the mutters about her pride grew louder.

“Please take your dancing shoes off,” her mother begged as they sat down to dinner. “They were meant for festivals, not for every day.”

“Take those shoes off now,” her father ordered. “And stop dancing even while we're sitting down.”

But Chinatsu did not. Truthfully, she could not, as the shoes had taken on a life of their own and compelled her to dance more and more often, until she couldn't stop even if she wanted to. She danced as she gathered water and danced as she helped her mother in the kitchen and danced in her sleep.

Her parents despaired. The village sympathized with them, but could not bring themselves to care overly much about Chinatsu herself. She deserved it, some of the men said. Dancing the men's dances like that.

One night, as Chinatsu danced in the square on her own, making up her own figures to the music that played in her head, an angel appeared. The angel was lovely, soft and glowing, and she held a silver cleaver in her hand.

“I have been watching you,” the angel said, and her voice was like the sound of bells and soft as a whisper, all at once. “It must be painful, dancing all the time.”

Chinatsu said nothing, but slowed her dancing to show the angel she was listening.

“I could make the dancing stop, you know,” the angel continued, stepping closer and holding up the cleaver. It glowed, under the moon or her own heavenly light. “If you let me cut them off.” She gestured at Chinatsu's feet, dancing in their bloodstained red slippers. Chinatsu looked from her feet to the cleaver before raising her head to stare defiantly into the angel's endless eyes.

“I would rather keep going 'til death,” Chinatsu said, and pushed the angel from her.

FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA, G

[blueminuet]

Kinjou Shingo & Sohoku Cycling Club (Yowamushi Pedal) (with bonus Inui Sadaharu/Kaidou Kaoru (Prince of Tennis))
Tags: no major tags, Kinjou’s Scary Gay Tennis Dads
Word Count: 904

A remix of psiten’s fill here



Naruko’s laugh echoes around the court. “Tennis?” he spins a racket over his wrist and points it at Kinjou. “I’ve played loads of times. My little brothers like playing on vacations.”

“Is that so?” Kinjou asks. He’s leaning back just a little, his racket resting on his shoulder. “Perhaps you and I could play the first match then.”

“Is that a challenge?” Naruko shoots back, smirking.

Kinjou shrugs. “If you’d like it to be.”

Makishima shoots a look, first to Kinjou, then to Tadokoro, and only receives knowing smirks from the both of them. This isn’t the first time most of team has been invited to a Kinjou family cookout. Makishima and Tadokoro know all too well what they’re walking into, and what a “friendly game of tennis” really amounts to.

The first years have no idea.

Onoda sighs, holding a racket like he’s never seen one before. “I don’t know about this. It’s… more sport-y than I can really do.”

“You said that about cycling,” Imaizumi reminds him.

“Well, it’s definitely a bit of a challenge to get used to,” Sugimoto says, leaning into the conversation. “I have an uncle that used to play it when he was in school. A real pro. I play it at all my family reunions, so I have quite a few years of experience at it.”

“Maybe you can take the winner then, Sugimoto,” Kinjou says, making Sugimoto freeze.

“Umm… yeah, sure,” Sugimoto says, waving a hand. “If you guys aren’t too tired out by then.”

“Don’t worry, Sugimoto,” Naruko says, grinning. “This won’t take long.”

---

All things considered, Naruko wasn’t wrong.

The first time the ball cuts a wide arc, around the net — just missing Onoda — and spiking into the single’s court just behind Naruko’s feet, he thinks it’s a fluke.

The fifth time, he’s nearly too rattled to play.

“That can’t possibly be legal!!!”

---

Sadaharu worries the butt of his pen in his teeth, thinking. Kaoru settles next to him in the lounge chair, after making the rounds and making sure all of the kids had something to eat.

“So, what’s your best guess?” Sadaharu asks.

Kaoru hisses. “Clearly not the red-head.”

Inui hums. Naruko is laying sprawled out on the other side of the court, though whether it’s exhaustion or humiliation, Inui isn’t sure.

Kinjou’s match with Sugimoto is going equally badly for Sugimoto.

“Maybe the elite?” Kaoru says.

Sahaharu makes a note, pauses, and frowns. He leans back to look around Kaoru. “Makishima. What’s your opinion?”

Makishima freezes, half-biting into a teriyaki skewer. Tadokoro is on his other side, and looks over to watch the conversation, but doesn’t stop eating.

“Well,” Makishima says, squirming slightly. “I guess Imaizumi isn’t a bad bet, but for my money, I’d go with Onoda.”

“Onoda?” Kaoru asks. His eyes flit over to the clump of first years. “That’s the tiny one, isn’t it?”

Tadokoro laughs, surprising Makishima and making him jump. “Yeah, he doesn’t look like much, but he’ll surprise you.”

Sadaharu hums again, making another note. “Kaoru, you remember how to do the Drive B, don’t you?”

Kaoru balks. “What? I mean, I’ve done it before but…”

Sadaharu gives him a look.

Kaoru sighs. “Fine.”

Tadokoro grabs his racket. “Looks like Sugimoto’s finished. Makishima, you wanna challenge Teshima and Aoyagi to a doubles match?”

Makishima shrugs. “Sure, but you know they’re better at doubles than I am.”

Kaoru sighs and stands up as well. “I’ll go talk to the tiny one.”

---

Onoda shakes slightly, looking up at Kaoru. He wants to say that this one is the scarier of Kinjou’s two dads, but the other one is pretty scary too, just in a different way.

Onoda freezes when Kaoru reaches out, and nearly yelps when he touches his hands. But he goes limp, which helps Kaoru correct Onoda’s grip on the racket.

“Alright, I’m going to show you a few moves that will work best with your size,” Kaoru says. “So, they’ll look goofy with me doing it, so don’t laugh.”

“Wh-what?” Onoda asks. “You’re… you’re teaching me to play tennis?”

Kaoru nods. “Yeah.”

Onoda nearly lets the conversation die there, but before he can think better of it, he asks, “Why?”

Kaoru sighs. “Every year… Shingo brings his teammates to our cookouts, and every year they always lose to him at tennis, because he grew up playing it with us,” Kaoru says.

“Oh.”

“So, every year, senpai… I mean, Sadaharu and I, we pick out whoever we think has the best potential to beat Shingo. To try to even things out.”

“Oh,” Onoda says. Then realization dawns on him and he jumps. “Wait, you think? Me?”

“I don’t know, Sadaharu always picks them.” Kaoru shrugs. “Anyway, we’re wasting time. Now, do what I tell you.”

“O-okay.”

---

Sadaharu smiles as Shingo meets his eyes from across the tennis court. Onoda is standing opposite Kinjou, suddenly looking serious.

“He’s onto us,” Sadaharu mutters.

“Was it supposed to be a secret?” Tadokoro asks. “I thought he always knew you were doing this.”

“I never told him,” Sadaharu says. “But it was only a matter of time before he figured it out.”

“I can’t believe that slide-move Onoda just did,” Makishima said. “You taught him that? Just now?”

Kaoru grunts.

“So, Kaoru,” Sadaharu says. “Do you think that Onoda has what it takes…” he pauses, grinning slightly, “.. to be Sohoku’s pillar of support?”

Kaoru hisses and walks away.

FILL: TEAM MIYUKI KAZUYA/MIYUKI KAZUYA, G

[blueminuet]

Kinjou Shingo/Makishima Yuusuke (Yowamushi Pedal)
Tags: no major tags, mentions of telepathy/mind control, scifi AU, weird alien biology
Word Count: 445

A remix of mother_herbivore’s fill here.


Kinjou watches as Makishima runs their fingers over the box, their claw-like nails tracing each groove and ley-line. Makishima’s bioluminescent spots and stripes pulse slightly, betraying their interest in a way Kinjou has come to be familiar with in his dealings with Makishima. Though if he looks closely, it almost seems to mimic the glowing pattern of the box. He wonders if there’s something to that, some sort of metaphysical entanglement that’s just outside of the reach of his senses.

Being a human in the far reaches of space, Kinjou has learned that he can’t always trust his meager human senses, and sometimes needs to come to peace with not knowing everything.

“And what did you say it was, Shingo?” Makishima asks, flipping the box over one more time.

“Our ship’s sensors can’t penetrate it, so there’s no way to know what’s inside,” Kinjou says. “External readings point to it being a stasis box. We’ve gathered barely more than a handful in past century or so, that match the readings like this one, so signs point to it being Thrintun.”

“Thrintun?” Makishima laughs, the sound coming out more like a hum that thrums through Kinjou’s chest. “Right, of course. Your intergalactic… what did humans call that monster? The Bogdeyman?”

“The Boogeyman,” Kinjou says, crossing his arms. “And they’re hardly just that. As far as our archaeological studies can tell, they ruled the galaxy more than a billion years ago, using their telepathic powers to manipulate others, before they were eventually overthrown.”

“Hmm, yes,” Makishima says. They toss the box in the air — where it hangs for an impossibly long moment for something so heavy — before catching it in their hand. “From accounts found in boxes not unlike this one, I imagine. You should know better than anyone, captain, that the victors write the histories. And if your Boogeymen were defeated, then they aren’t the victors anymore.”

“So?”

Makishima sets the box gently on the countertop before them. “My point is perhaps don’t be so suspicious of the telepathic around you.”

Kinjou frowns. “I didn’t mean…”

Makishima ignores him, instead spinning the box on the countertop. Makishima’s fingers splay out around it, and Kinjou realizes that the glowing from both the box and Makishima are synced once again, both of them glowing steadily at the same intensity.

The box stops spinning, suddenly, and Kinjou is surprised to hear something like a pop. Makishima moves their hands, still not touching the box, and the top side of the cube lifts off, releasing a navy glow.

“Looks like you owe me one, captain,” Makishima says with a smirk. “Want to see what your Boogeymen left you?”

Fill: Team Grandstand, G

[elucidatedlucy]

Ayase Eli/Kousaka Honoka
Tags: No major tags, harry potter au, oh my god i have no idea what im doing but i love the fill i'm remixing too much not to try, sorry sorry sorry
Word count: 729

Remix of underscored's EliHono cosplay/written fill from BR3.

A muggle-born running after breaking every rule in the book.

Of course, the halls would echo. The fireplace left ash and cruel honesty on Eli's tongue. She avoided the living room, the Ministry flooding into her family's home, the media buzzing underneath over questions about the truant student.

"I recognize her."

On the streets, searching in preparation for school, everyone's running mouths.

"I knew she was a rule breaker, but I didn't think she'd throw a show like that in public."

It was like a running joke. Honoka, jumping up at the school table's, drawing everyone's eye - teachers said it was her who cost Gryffindor more points than any other student. Eli had written her up a dozen times over. Every potions class, a dozen charms, finding her sneaking through dungeons and forest with terrified friends.

"Looks like you got me again!" she would say, sometimes, between the fireworks flickering out of her eyebrows, over fluorescent skin, beneath wind and water and sound that always backfired against her. "But you see, it isn't really -"

"Detention." Eli had interrupted, bored early on - irritated other times, until -

"Again?" she said, one day, in genuine disbelief.

Honoka Kousaka, the same girl who had managed to get into a shouting fit with the Sorting Hat for putting her friends in different houses than her, was hanging onto a unicorn with all the fear in the world on her face. Not just fear, though - bright red, giddy smile, she was excited.

It snorted. Eli stepped away. She'd heard stories about every beast in the forest, and unicorns weren't quite the beautiful safety in her eyes that they were in other girls'. She understood how easily anything could turn. The tables would not stand in her favor if she depended upon such a fickle heart.

"I just noticed it was ... um ... lost?" Honoka tried to laugh, slipping off - scrambling not to fall off its back. "And I thought I could show it how to get home, but then I sort of realized I didn't know where, and then ..."

"You know what this means," Eli interrupted.

Her forehead bounced against its mane in defeat.

"Show me how."

And her eyes snapped up like they'd never felt anything but joy in her life.

Honoka didn't beat around the bush. Holding out a hand, she said, "Come on!"

Prefect, eternal leader, elegant and intelligent - Eli still deigned to accept her hand.

Standing in the middle of the alley, too aware of what Honoka was willing to do, Eli's nails dug into her fist. The girl was a fool. Running, the instant people found out, instead -

Three days.

It took Eli three days to bring herself to glance at her mirror, after sleeplessness and bitterness tearing into her nights. She didn't have time. She didn't waste it on silly jokes and gestures, no matter how much she may have wanted, under the heavy fist of her family's mantle.

Three days to watch a message, honest, sure, fool-hardy as it was brave.

"It wasn't me!"

There was no excitement in her fear, this time.

"It'll be worse if they catch me because I'm a Mudblood."

The word stung worse out of Honoka's mouth. Careless and distant, and Eli knew her own family, even if it was wrapped tightly behind a thousand locks. The same word she had spat - sicker every time herself, for what ran through her blood in halves.

Honoka loved a world that put her in endless danger.

"I love you."

As much as she loved a person who could put her in constant danger.

Eli didn't throw the mirror. She put it down. Late.

Honoka couldn't have been caught yet. Eli would have heard about it, deep in the bowels of her house and blood, shadows digging into her ankles. She wasn't sure what was worse. That Honoka hadn't come to her first. Or that she hadn't realized, sooner.

"There you are ..."

Her wand was raised before she could think about what she was doing. Right there - in the open window, a bird too familiar, feathers hanging down from its head like twintails. The sight sent her hopes choking in her throat.

"I thought you might need some good news."

Friends had a way of running. As much a way as they did surviving.

Eli wasn't in the mood to let go.

"Nozomi," she murmured. "I need to get out of here."