referees: (Default)
SASO Referees ([personal profile] referees) wrote in [community profile] sportsanime2017-05-28 06:52 pm
Entry tags:

Bonus Round 1: AUs


SASO 2017 is over, but this round is perpetually open to new fills (no new prompts).

This popular round is back once again! To begin this year's SASO, we encourage you to let your mind run wild with alternate ideas and settings.

Please read this whole post before commenting to ensure that your team gets the most points possible. (There are changes from last year!)

  • Submit prompts by commenting to this post with an alternate universe idea, along with a ship from one of our nominated fandoms. There's a comment template below for your convenience.
    • Your prompt MUST include some kind of relationship. (This is not the sports anime gen olympics.) Platonic relationships are indicated by an "&" between the names (e.g., Izumi & Sakaeguchi). Non-platonic relationships use "/" (e.g., Izumi/Sakaeguchi). Please don't say "Any pairing," either!
  • An AU can be a canon divergence, e.g. "what if [character] was the Team Captain instead of the canon captain character?", or a completely different setting altogether, e.g., pop idol AU, coffee shop AU, superheroes AU, etc.
  • Fill prompts by leaving a responding comment to the prompt with your newly-created work.
  • Remember to follow the general bonus round rules, outlined here.

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.

Format your comment in one of the following ways:

  • Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to. Any way you format it is fine.
  • Copy/paste/fill out the following form into your comment box. Delete the guidance text that's in parentheses. Make sure you use tags.

    Here is a BR Template Creator for your convenience if the textarea is confusing.

  • Replace [YOUR SHIP] with the name of the team you belong to. Any way you format it is fine.
  • Replace RATING with the rating of your fill (G - E)
  • Copy/paste/fill out the following form into your comment box. Delete the guidance text that's in parentheses. Make sure you use tags.

    Here is a BR Template Creator for your convenience if the textarea is confusing.

  • NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and tag them clearly. [community profile] saso_afterhours is open to all NSFW fills.
    • Written/text fills can be hosted on AO3 or [community profile] saso_afterhours ONLY.
    • Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere; you may include a small safe-for-work thumbnail of the fill in your comment.
  • Replace RATING with the rating of your fill (G - E)
  • Copy/paste/fill out the following form into your comment box. Delete the guidance text that's in parentheses. Make sure you use tags.

    Here is a BR Template Creator for your convenience if the textarea is confusing.

  • NSFW FILLS: Please cross-link these fills and tag them clearly. [community profile] saso_afterhours is open to all NSFW fills.
    • Written/text fills can be hosted on AO3 or [community profile] saso_afterhours ONLY.
    • Art/visual fills can be hosted anywhere; you may include a small safe-for-work thumbnail of the fill in your comment.

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.

If you see anyone breaking the code of conduct (e.g., causing drama, being rude) anywhere (not just DW), please contact the mods immediately.

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

For prompts: 5 points each (maximum of 50 prompt points per team per round)

For fills:
First 4 fills by any member of your team: 20 points each
Fills 5-10: 15 points each
Fills 11-20: 5 points each
Fills 21-50: 2 points each
Fills 51+: 1 point each

All scored content must be created new for this round.

If you're hunting through the prompts looking for what to fill, a good trick is to view top-level comments only (see the line of links below this post).

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


[personal profile] chameleonskin 2017-05-29 02:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Onoda Sakamichi & or / Naruko Shoukichi & or / Imaizumi Shunsuke
Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: None

Prompt: Power Rangers / Sentai AU!
concolor: (Default)


[personal profile] concolor 2017-05-30 11:45 am (UTC)(link)
I love this prompt??

Just so I know would you rather they were their own fakey Sentai team or could we base them off of an older team?


[personal profile] concolor - 2017-05-30 19:22 (UTC) - Expand
notallbees: (Default)


[personal profile] notallbees 2017-05-29 02:51 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Azumane Asahi &/ Sawamura Daichi &/ Sugawara Koushi
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: possibly platonic, possible polyamory, potential dark themes

Prompt: Daichi and Suga are the angel and devil on Asahi's shoulders. Your choice how literal this is/whether they manifest or not/whether it's cracky or dark!
chromatic_coma: (confident)

FILL: Team Grandstand, T

[personal profile] chromatic_coma 2017-05-29 07:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: Religious/Supernatural themes, Angst with a Happy Ending
Word Count: 1536


Asahi was twelve the first time they'd appeared; none of the books or webpages he'd read about puberty had prepared him.

“I can totally see that girl's bra through her uniform,” a small, silver haired creature suddenly giggled from a perch on his shoulder, alerting Asahi to his presence. Asahi squeaked, then clapped his hand over his mouth.

“Is everything alright, Azumane-kun?” His teacher asked sharply, looking at him over her glasses. He felt himself turn five shades of red, and nodded meekly.


“Alright, good. Then you should be able to read the sentence on the board out loud and turn it into the past tense for us.”

Asahi frantically flipped through his English notes for the bit about verb conjugations, and the relief that rushed through him when he gave the correct answer had him slumping in his seat. He closed his eyes, feeling the heat still radiating off his cheeks, when he heard the voice again.

“I mean, seriously,” it cackled. “Didn't anyone teach her not to wear dark underwear with a white shirt?”

Asahi looked again, and there he was; he looked like a boy Asahi's age, except he was only ten centimeters tall, with black horns protruding from his light hair and a tail curled around one of his ankles.


“You already humiliated him in front of his class,” another voice spoke directly beside Asahi's right ear, and he turned so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash. This boy was the same small size as his friend, but his dark, cropped hair was illuminated by a crooked halo, and small wings erupted from the back of his gakuran jacket. “He's not going to look over.”

“Yes he is,” the little blond chirped brightly. “Aren't you, Asahi-kun?”

To encourage his point, he papped Asahi's cheek, and his tiny hand made Asahi's jaw vibrate. He squeaked again, and grabbed his stomach.

“I'm sorry, sensei, I really need to use the bathroom!” He whimpered pathetically, already racing out of the classroom to the echoes of giggles from his peers.

No matter how much water he slapped on his face, or how many times he rubbed his eyes, the twin creatures refused to disappear from his sight.

In the years that followed, Asahi had grown accustomed to the constant presence of Suga and Daichi, respectively the self-professed Devil and Angel of his subconscious. By the time he was seventeen, he actively looked forward to the commentary Suga would run in his ear throughout the day, everything from sassy, crude observations about the people around them, to terrible ideas Asahi knew better than to listen to. For that there was Daichi, quick with the sharp reprimands, who could be belitting just as often as he was encouraging.

“Nishinoya-kun is totally checking you out, Asahi,” Suga drawled lasciviously during a morning volleyball practice, one of the last before the last tournament of Asahi's high school career. He scoffed absently, and flicked the sweat off his brow in Suga's direction; even though it couldn't harm him, Suga gagged and made dramatic motions of cleaning himself off. “What? I was being honest!”

“Don't talk about my teammates that way,” he grunted breathlessly. “Nishinoya likes Shimizu-san.”

“Yeah, well, he still has eyes! He can look. And he's definitely been looking for the past year.”

“Give it a rest, Suga,” Daichi intervened, rolling his eyes. “Asahi doesn't want to compromise the team dynamics. He's being sensible.”

“Sensible my ass,” Suga scoffed. “He's being a coward. You need to stop enabling his behavior, Daichi. Don't you exist to help him better himself?”

“I exist to keep you in line, Suga.”

“You're doing a terrible job, then,” he laughed, gesturing emphatically at Asahi. “He has a ponytail and a goatee. Old ladies mistake him for a thug every other day. Remember the one who swatted him with her purse and left a bruise?”

“Yes, I stopped you from convincing him to grab her purse.”

“It would have been in self defense!”

Asahi came to the end of his run, one of the last to finish by virtue of having crazy teammates who had endless energy reserves. He wiped his sweaty brow on the end of his shirt, and while his mouth was covered he hissed at his shoulder guardians, “Can't this wait til we get home?”

Suga dissipated in a cloud of smoke, and after a terse apology, so did Daichi. Asahi didn't see or hear from either of them until he was done with his bath that night, and in the privacy of his room finishing up some homework.

“Suga is ready to apologize now,” Daichi announced, appearing not on Asahi's shoulder but on the desk in front of him, holding onto Suga by the collar of his shirt. Suga rolled his eyes.

“I'm sorry for trying to engage you in conversation when you were in public. However, I'm not sorry for trying to hook you up with a cute boy so you can finally get some. You're so repressed the greatest source of companionship you get is from us, and no one can even verify our existence.”

Asahi flicked Suga with his finger, and though he didn't actually make contact, Suga flinched and fell over anyways. Daichi looked at Asahi with pursed lips, the picture of disapproval, but Suga laughed.

“No, that's exactly what I would have told him to do.”

“I don't want to go out with Nishinoya, so stop bringing it up,” Asahi declared, an uncharacteristic edge to his voice that he hoped would mean they'd leave it alone. But Suga, who knew better than to find Asahi intimidating, ever, shook his head.

“But you find him attractive,” he accused.

“Yes, that's true...”

“But,” Daichi interrupted, looking firmly at Suga then more kindly at Asahi. “You're not in love with him. You're in love with someone else.”

Pained, Asahi shut his eyes and nodded, hanging his head.

“Daichi,” Suga sighed. “We've talked about this. We agreed not to acknowledge his feelings.”

There was a gentle touch on Asahi's knuckle. “Your feelings are valid, Asahi. Even if they're completely inconvenient. For what it's worth, we feel the same.”

“How did you even... know? What gave me away?” Asahi asked, his voice shaking.

“We're parts of you, dummy. We just knew.”

Asahi shamefully wiped the tears off his face with his sleeve, and looked down at the blurry figures of Daichi and Suga on his desk. Daichi's touch gets a little more firm. “Take that love you have for us and turn it into love for yourself, okay?”

Asahi doesn't remember falling asleep the last night he sees them; when he wakes up the next morning, it's with a distinctive sense of loss. Suga and Daichi don't come that day, or the next, or the next. That week is spent in the thick of his own grief, denial turning into anger and bargaining and back again, but there's no proof that they ever existed, and somehow, Asahi moves on.

When Karasuno makes it to the National semi-finals before conceding defeat, Nishinoya asks Asahi out on a date. They enjoy themselves, but agree they're better as friends. After graduation, Asahi takes a job at Shimada Mart, then at the library, then at a bigger branch of the library in Sendai. Two years have passed before a flash of silver hair catches his attention on a crowded train, and all of the air leaves his lungs.

He's still larger than most Japanese people, and self-conscious about using his size to bully his way deeper into the train car, but single minded determination gets him standing right in front of where a man is sitting, silver hair and a mole beside his left eye, looking down to read a book in his lap. An incomprehensible noise leaves his throat, and the man looks up; his eyes are hazel-green-grey and have Asahi's heart beating cracks into his ribcage.

“Oh, would you like to sit?” He asks politely, grabbing his bag as if making to stand. Asahi waves his hand emphatically.

“No, no! It's just... you look like someone I used to know.”

The man smiles ruefully up at him. “I'm sorry, no. I don't think we've met.”

Asahi's heart breaks, but the man's voice drowns it out as he adds, “It's not as if anyone would give up their immortality because they've fallen in love, after all.”

Asahi looks down at him again, and now the man – Suga, Suga, holy fucking shit, it is Suga! - is grinning at him unabashedly.

“W-Where's Daichi?”

“Rude,” Suga laughs. “You haven't even asked how I'm doing, you just skipped right to him!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Asahi laughs – cries? He really isn't sure – and he reaches out to put his hand on Suga's cheek. His skin is warm and soft to Asahi's touch, but best of all, it's solid.

“I'm fine,” Suga says firmly, placing his hand over Asahi's. “Daichi's fine, you're fine. We're all gonna be just fine.”

Re: FILL: Team Grandstand, T

[personal profile] notallbees - 2017-05-29 20:01 (UTC) - Expand

Re: FILL: Team Grandstand, T

[personal profile] jeilovesyou - 2017-06-01 00:09 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] chromatic_coma - 2017-06-01 00:14 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] jeilovesyou - 2017-06-01 00:18 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

[personal profile] chromatic_coma - 2017-06-01 02:06 (UTC) - Expand
rielity: (Default)

PROMPT: Team Grandstand

[personal profile] rielity 2017-05-29 02:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Kuroo Tetsurou &/ Yaku Morisuke
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: NONE
Other Tags: NONE

Prompt: Space/PacRim AU where both of them hate each others’ guts due to a past feud. Following a major battle, they’re the only ones who are Drift-compatible and fit for combat. A huge and ridiculously powerful Kaiju is approaching. It’s Drift or Die.
hapaxlegomenon: (saso 2017 teshima pink)

FILL: Team Aoyagi Hajime/Teshima Junta, T

[personal profile] hapaxlegomenon 2017-05-31 01:55 am (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: Strongly implied past character death, disfigurement
Other Tags: Angsty angst angst, bad language
Word Count: 531

The way into my heart (and guaranteed fills list) is through PacRim AUs


Kuroo still feels Kenma in his mind and his bones and his soul when a category four kaiju breaches the rift just north of Hokkaido. He’s nowhere near healthy, physically or mentally, but Marshal Sawamura comes to him personally, in his little sickbay bed. And Daichi doesn’t need to say anything. Kuroo knows. And nothing, in the last four days since Neko Heartshield went down, has been harder than getting out of that bed, feeling the phantom crush around his arm and leg and ribcage, but he goes anyway.

He knows, better than most, that there’s nobody else.

Tigerstrike was lost with her captains a month ago, in a co-ordinated multinational attack on the breach that left not a single pilot left alive. Silver Ace went down a week previous, broken and scattered across the continental shelf in a million pieces, and Kuroo has heard the beeping of machines and soft groans and whimpers from the Haibas as they convalesce behind a canvas curtain on the other side of the room.

Kuroo sets his jaw against a wince and straightens his back. “Neko repaired?” he manages to ask as his fingers twitch reflexively for a gauntlet and control panel that aren’t there.

Daichi twists his lips and shakes his head. “Salvage teams are still working,” he says, and he seems to take a bracing breath. “You’ll be going out in Guardian Night.”

Kuroo stops in his tracks. “No,” he says. And louder, “No.”

A few feet ahead of him, Daichi stops, too. “You don’t have a choice,” he says, and while there’s sympathy, there, the statement is iron. “There is nobody else. You will co-pilot Guardian and you will protect our nation” Daichi spin, then, and wheels into Kuroo’s space until the front wheels of his chair bump against Kuroo’s shins. He looks up at Kuroo, steely-eyed, and adds, “That’s an order.”

Kuroo thinks about sharing his mind (sharing Kenma, a part of him whispers) with Yaku, and he feels nauseous.

“Yes, sir.”

Guardian Night is nothing like Neko Heartshield. It’s small and tough and built for brawling, and its remaining pilot is the same. Kuroo sees Yaku tense when he walks into the cockpit, and really, it’s a mutual reaction. They wordlessly take their places, Kuroo trying not to think about old resentments and fresh pains.

Yaku breaks the silence first. “You look like shit,” he comments, to which Kuroo raises an eyebrow and nods towards the space where Yaku’s left hand should be. Yaku’s lips twitch in something that could be a grimace or a grin, or both, and he shakes his head.

“Kai says that if we, quote, can’t get along for once in our stupid lives, he’ll kick both our asses and then handcuff us together for a week.”

Kuroo can’t help but crack a grin at that, and Yaku grins back. Kai’s voice buzzes across the comm lines -- “That’s right. Initializing drift now.” -- and he feels the neural link firing up.

“I swear to god, Yaku, don’t go poking around in my head.”

“You stay the fuck out of mine,” Yaku retorts.

And then they drift.
notallbees: (Default)


[personal profile] notallbees 2017-05-29 02:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Fandom: Haikyuuu, Starfighter
Major Tags: Dub-con
Other Tags: None

Prompt: Starfighter Crossover where bokuaka are copilots. Bonus if Bokuto is the navigator and Akaashi is the fighter :'D (dub-con is not a request, just a suggestion of the nature of the canon!)
Edited 2017-05-29 15:17 (UTC)
(deleted comment)
multilinear: (Default)


[personal profile] multilinear 2017-05-29 02:54 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: manami sangaku/teshima junta
Fandom: yowamushi pedal
Major Tags: none.
Other Tags: none.

Prompt: THE EMPEROR'S NEW GROOVE AU, where teshima is yzma and he's just trying to shadow rule a kingdom while this carefree dancing idiot refuses to poison himself, there is no courtesy left in this world

[personal profile] fickle damien i'm on ur fckn team dont fill this one either
Edited 2017-05-29 14:54 (UTC)
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-29 04:17 pm (UTC)(link)
The Emperor's New Groove is my 2nd fav Disney movie, how dare you.
notallbees: (Default)


[personal profile] notallbees 2017-05-29 02:57 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: Canon divergence

Prompt: Growing up, Kenma and Bokuto were best friends, but things changed when they met Kuroo and Akashi (AU where Kenma and Bokuto are bffs instead of kuroken)
notallbees: (Default)


[personal profile] notallbees 2017-05-29 02:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou/Kozume Kenma/Kuroo Tetsurou
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: Spoilers (Persona 5)
Other Tags: None

Prompt: Each of them is seen as an outcast/delinquent by everyone around them. They band together to steal distorted hearts and overcome the challenges society has put in their way.
Edited 2017-05-29 15:18 (UTC)
underscored: by nyatsuuuu @ twitter/dw (Default)


[personal profile] underscored 2017-06-01 01:02 am (UTC)(link)
you come into my HOUSE
notallbees: (Default)


[personal profile] notallbees 2017-05-29 03:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Iwaizumi Hajime/Kyoutani Kentarou
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: Bestiality
Other Tags: Animal shifter

Prompt: Iwaizumi and/or Kyoutani is an animal shifter and can turn into a dog (can be as innocent or filthy as you like but weird shifter sex is definitely encouraged ;D).
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-30 02:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: Sexual content.
Other Tags: Shapeshifter sex wherein they are somewhere between dog and human during sex. Can’t call it bestiality because they’re both still sentient but if doggy dicks and instincts disturb you, this is probably not going to be your cup of tea!
Word Count: 569

Fill is here!!

lemon: narrante; edit by lemon ♥ (Default)


[personal profile] lemon 2017-05-29 03:03 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Sawamura Daichi/Azumane Asahi
Fandom: Haikyuu
Major Tags: none
Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where asahi works at the RMV/bank/some kind of face-to-face customer service where people are known to get in your face. he's had a Hard Day thus far at work and when the next customer in line, daichi, unassumingly asks how he is to be polite, asahi bursts into tears, so daichi asks him out for coffee
foxrocksthesesocksss: (Default)


[personal profile] foxrocksthesesocksss 2017-05-29 03:11 pm (UTC)(link)
rielity: (Default)

PROMPT: Team Grandstand

[personal profile] rielity 2017-05-29 03:05 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Nishinoya Yuu / Kozume Kenma
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: NONE
Other Tags: NONE

Prompt: Journalist/Detective AU. Nishinoya is a journalist/detective doggedly chasing a lead, but he meets Kenma, the mysterious informant who isn’t giving up his secrets so easily. Between learning how to push Kenma’s buttons and spending time with each other, things might be changing more than either of them expect.
notallbees: (Default)


[personal profile] notallbees 2017-05-29 03:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: Pornstar au

Prompt: Amateur pornstar Hinata wants to be the most iconic top but is always typecast as a bottom, meanwhile Kageyama has the exact opposite problem. When they meet by chance they decide to shoot the erotic masterpiece they've always dreamed of. (bonus for jokes about 'the view from the top')
marks: (kageyama (hq))


[personal profile] marks 2017-05-29 03:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh wow
willow: Edna Mode from The Incredibles. Text: Go Fight Win! (Edna Mode: Go Fight Win!)


[personal profile] willow 2017-05-29 03:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Abe &/ Mihashi

Fandom: Big Windup

Major Tags: none

Other Tags: none

Prompt: What if Ren becomes a professional player and Abe ends up his manager?
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-30 02:06 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: None
Word Count: 400 words

“Relax,” Abe soothed, rubbing Mihashi’s back as the pitcher trembled. “You’ll be fine. They’ll call back with an offer.”

“No, they won’t,” Mihashi sniffled. All the progress he’d made during high school and college seemed to be wiped out when it came to negotiating contracts and signing onto teams. He’d fallen apart before signing to a minor league team and now he was panicking in just the same way at the thought of joining the Nippon Professional League. “I sucked. And I always will suck.”

“Hey, come on. You’ve been amazing since high school, remember? We had three perfect years, thanks to your great pitching,” Abe reminded Mihashi with a jerk of his chin towards the framed certificates that still hung on Mihashi’s walls. Abe doubted very much that any of the others still had theirs up on the wall. Maybe those of their children but their own? Nah.

“I wasn’t great. I was obedient.” Mihashi scrubbed his knuckles over his eyes, turning into Abe’s shoulder and looking up at him with shining, wet eyes. “It was all because of you. On my own, I would’ve been nothing!”

“You didn’t have me catching for you in the minors and you weren’t nothing there,” Abe said, allowing himself just a moment of inner satisfaction that Mihashi still had all his old faith in Abe.

“Yes, you were!” Mihashi said. “You came to every game and cheered me on. Even if you weren’t catching for me, I knew you were there in the stands and shouting for me.”

“And I’ll be at all your professional games too.” Being Mihashi’s manager slash agent slash dietician slash personal coach wasn’t how he’d predicted his baseball career turning out but there were worse things than being a paid babysitter for your best friend slash boyfriend.

“If I get in, you mean,” Mihashi said as his tears started to slow. He sniffed again, then gave Abe a wan smile. “Are you going to promise not to get hurt again?”

“I promise you’ll get hurt if you don’t stop bringing that up!” Abe mock-threatened. Back in their high school days, Mihashi would’ve cowered away and started crying at that, convinced that Abe meant it and he was in real danger.

Now, Mihashi laughed and though the sound was still watery and weak, it made Abe smile.

They’d come a long way indeed and they’d done it together.
Edited 2017-05-30 14:07 (UTC)
notallbees: (Default)


[personal profile] notallbees 2017-05-29 03:10 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Azumane Asahi/Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: Polyamory, escalating dares

Prompt: Established relationship daisuga compete to seduce the hot but shy guy who works near their apartment.
spicybun: (Default)


[personal profile] spicybun 2017-05-30 01:40 pm (UTC)(link)
multilinear: (Default)


[personal profile] multilinear 2017-05-29 03:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: midosuji akira &/ onoda sakamichi
Fandom: yowamushi pedal
Major Tags: uh, probable violence? and being eaten.
Other Tags: it can be / or &, platonic or romantic, up to you o/

Prompt: midosuji is fascinated by the sun. so one day, the shadow creature reached up to eat it.

[personal profile] fickle damien im on ur team do not fill this
Edited 2017-05-29 15:12 (UTC)
candyharlot: (tooru tongue)


[personal profile] candyharlot 2017-05-29 11:51 pm (UTC)(link)
(softly wheezing) HECK


[personal profile] chameleonskin - 2017-06-11 16:53 (UTC) - Expand
notallbees: (Default)


[personal profile] notallbees 2017-05-29 03:12 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: None

Prompt: Noya has a problem with his motorcycle. Asahi is a mechanic. Go figure.
flippinflakes: hi (Default)


[personal profile] flippinflakes 2017-05-29 05:38 pm (UTC)(link)
willow: Red haired, dark skinned, lollipop girl (Default)


[personal profile] willow 2017-05-29 03:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Karasuno/Seigaku

Fandom: Haikyuu/Prince of Tennis

Major Tags: none

Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Karasuno came to Seigaku’s rescue during that disastrous volleyball game.
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-30 01:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: None
Word Count: 412 words


The Karasono volleyball team stood on the beach and stared in disbelief at the game that was unfolding on the beach court. One player fell face first into the sand, got bonked on the head with the volleyball and missed hitting it completely when he tried to serve.

“That’s Echizen-kun?” Kageyama asked, contempt dripping from his tone. “The 12-year-old rookie that’s playing international tennis?”

“He’s even shorter than I am!” Hinata crowed happily.

“He’s four years younger than you are, idiot,” Kageyama snapped, gaze still fixed on the spectacle of one of the country’s best sportsmen utterly failing at volleyball.

“…” Hinata scowled at Kageyama then looked at the court again. “Maybe we should offer them some pointers.”

“Nothing,” Tsukishima said decisively, “Would help them.”

Except maybe to be put out of their misery.

“Maybe they’d let one of us substitute?” Sugawara suggested in his soft voice. Seigaku had no volleyball so wasn’t competition for Karasuno. They could afford to be generous, especially since Nishinoya and Tanaka had so very nearly charged to the rescue of the old man; Seigaku had beaten them to it but really, Karasuno would’ve fared much better in this impromptu showdown.

“Yeah!” Hinata said excitedly, punching the air. “Come on! Let’s go volunteer. Who should we send?”

All eyes turned to Asahi. Kageyama was useless on his own – he needed someone who could actually receive his sets. And Hinata needed to have someone able to set. Nishinoya might be able to save the ball but when it came down to it, it was the ace of the team who had the all-around talent to carry Seigaku to victory.

Asahi hesitated for a bare second, then nodded his assent. Daichi was already jogging off over the sand towards the Seigaku team to commence negotiations.

“GO GO ASAHI WIN WIN ASAHI!” Momo bellowed at the top of his voice. Besides him, Taka was eagerly waving a tennis racket with Asahi’s discarded shirt pushed over the head like a banner.

He joined in with Momo, “GO GO ASAHI! WIN WIN ASAHI!”

“GET IT GET IT KARASUNO!” Hinata bellowed, jumping up and down. The tennis team had been surprised to hear that cheering was actually encouraged during volleyball games, given that tennis was played with a silent audience, but they’d quickly gotten the hang of chanting.

Unfortunately, Seigaku thought the “Fire it up/Get it!!” cheer lacked pizzazz.

Given that they were cheering exclusively for Asahi and ignoring their teammate Kaidoh, however, the Karasuno team weren’t about to quibble over wording.

willow: Red haired, dark skinned, lollipop girl (Default)


[personal profile] willow 2017-05-29 03:14 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Oikawa/Iwaizumi

Fandom: Haikyuu

Major Tags: none

Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Oikawa does black magic and absolutely nobody’s impressed.
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-30 02:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: None
Word Count: 428 words


“Six who are strong are stronger!” Oikawa proclaimed grandly. Hinata had pulled his hand away to scratch his ear; Oikawa grabbed it back and held it down against the volleyball.

“Pay attention, chibi-chan,” he ordered. The flickering lights of the candles deepened the hollows of his eyes, lending an eerie authority to his words. Oikawa counted the hands again. Himself, Lev, Kageyama, Nishinoya, Hinata, and--

“Ushiwaka-chan, put your hands on the ball. It won’t work without all six of us,” he ordered, ready to make a grab for the taller player’s hands if he didn’t comply.

“You don’t win by magic. You win by practice,” Ushijima grumbled, folding his arms over his chest. From behind, Iwaizumi casually leaned on Ushijima’s shoulders, forcing him to bend forwards over the volleyball that was the center of the ritual.

“Just do as Shittykawa says,” Iwaizumi advised. “It’ll be faster than arguing.”

“This isn’t magic,” Oikiawa said, curling his fingers over Ushijima’s wrists and pulling fruitlessly. “It’s a bonding ritual.”

“Then why aren’t the others doing it with us?” Kageyama asked. Oikawa gave another tug at Ushijima’s wrists and when that didn’t work, he let go and lifted the ball so it’d touch the back of Ushijima’s knuckles.

“Because! We do it in batches of six! Iwa-chan will take care of the rest of the team.” Oikawa did not remember his team back at Seijoh being this resistant. He huffed, keeping his hands firmly on the ball.

“Now, say it with me. Six who are strong are stronger!”

Begrudgingly, everyone repeated the words with him. Everyone except Ushijima.

“…If you don’t do this, I won’t serve to you,” Oikawa threatened. He and Kageyama were the two setters of the team and everyone knew that Kageyama still preferred to serve to Hinata. A scowl crossed Ushijima’s face but he reluctantly unfolded his arms, placed his palms against the ball and rumbled, “Six who are strong are stronger.”

“We have to say it together,” Oikawa said impatiently. “Everyone, ready! Six who are strong are stronger!”

This time five voices joined with his, even if Ushijima’s cold glare wasn’t quite in the spirit of the exercise.

“Good. Now close your eyes and picture tomorrow. Imagine beating the Americans. Picture receiving those gold medals.” He shut his own eyes as ordered but after a few seconds, risked opening them just a slit to make sure the others were obeying.

Sure enough, Ushjima was still glaring at him.

If Oikawa ever found out who had recommended Ushijima for the Japanese team, he would have words with them.


[personal profile] marks - 2017-05-30 14:14 (UTC) - Expand
notallbees: (Default)


[personal profile] notallbees 2017-05-29 03:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Ikejiri Hayato/Sawamura Daichi
Fandom: Haikyuu!!
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: Canon divergence

Prompt: Ikejiri went to Karasuno and joined the volleyball team with Daichi, but he left under the previous coach Ukai's harsh tuition. He and Daichi haven't spoken since.
themorninglark: (kazama manga)


[personal profile] themorninglark 2017-06-06 02:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: None
Word Count: 879

hello :')


When he leaves, he does not think to put a label to it. Nothing quite so final as leaving, at any rate; no, he’s merely stepping out for some fresh air, taking a day off, studying for that important math test next Monday—

As the humid wind brings the rainy season, sweet and sticky and a slow blur on the horizon, Ikejiri Hayato digs into the depths of his wardrobe and finds a wrinkled jacket. He smooths it out, flips it round and runs his fingers over the words printed on the back. Karasuno High School spelt out in white is still clean, clear as day. It is not washed out, cracked like it would be if he had worn it often and again, and tossed it into the laundry so many times over. It doesn’t even smell like the gym anymore.

Ikejiri balls up the jacket, hugs it to his chest and sits down. Outside, the light splinters through the branches of the orange tree. There is juice and freshly cut fruit waiting for him downstairs at the living room table.

Drop by drop, the drizzle on the lonely street falls like a confession he never made.



”Sawamura… I’m sorry, today’s just—”

”Don’t apologise. I’ll be waiting for you.”


”I’ll be waiting for you. To come back.”


There are perks, he tells himself, of being just another face in the crowd. Not that he’s ever been one to stand out, or wanted to be; this is fine, up in the stands and near the back. He’s got a mask on today, because he’s always been susceptible to hay fever and the dandelions bloom bright outside the stadium.

He slots himself unnoticed into the thin ranks of Karasuno supporters. They are few, far fewer than the raucous squad spilling into the aisles that he’d seen, years ago, on an old tape in Sawamura Daichi’s living room. It had been Ikejiri, then, who’d pitched forward and stared at the TV with wide eyes and visions of spotlights like stars, said to Daichi, let’s go there together. Karasuno.

Daichi had grinned back, met Ikejiri’s youthful optimism with a determination that never grew jaded.

Well, thinks Ikejiri ruefully. Here they are now.

(And when he’s just another face in the crowd, he can watch Daichi more closely than ever before, heart in his mouth. He knows Daichi will not notice him. It is a tradeoff, Ikejiri dares to hope, he can learn to live with. He’ll have to.)


On the kerbside near the basketball courts, Ikejiri clasps his hands together. There’s a fragile heat cupped in his palms that aches, just a little less intense, a little more dull, than the ache he used to carry around for days after Coach Ukai’s training. Days. How fleeting they seem, now that they have turned into weeks. He looks up at the furious sun, smiles at the approaching figure.

Michimiya Yui hands him a soda-flavoured popsicle and flops down next to him. She’s done for the day, her towel round her neck and duffel over one shoulder, volleyball shoes peeking out the top of her bag.

“I saw you watching us,” she says. She leans back on her hands, lets out a long, exhausted sigh.

“I couldn’t very well watch the boys’ team practice,” Ikejiri points out, feeling his cheeks flush pink.

Yui tips her head sideways, gives him an appraising glance. “You miss it, don’t you?”

Ikejiri doesn’t answer. He looks down at his shoes, presses his toes and heels together. The popsicle is wonderfully refreshing. Somewhere beyond the school fence, he hears a whistle, raised voices and pounding footsteps; beside him, Yui shields her eyes and cranes her neck to look.

“Wow. They’re still at it.”

“Yeah,” says Ikejiri. He pauses. “I miss it, Michimiya. But I can’t. I can’t do it any more. I… I realised it when Sawamura said he’d be waiting for me.”

Yui turns to face him. She nods in understanding.

“That sounds just like him,” she says.

Ikejiri grits his teeth. “In that moment, I wanted to say I’d be back. But when I opened my mouth, I couldn’t say it. I couldn’t lie to him. That’s when I knew.”

The hand that reaches out to pat him on his arm is warm. It’s also strong, stronger than he remembers; Yui’s grip is sure and firm, and Ikejiri cannot help but smile to himself, a smile like the pale lavender sunset he once chased. You’ve grown too, Michimiya. You both did.


I didn’t. I didn’t. The word gets lost in his mouth, melts like the popsicle in this long, unforgiving summer, and Ikejiri falls silent again. This time, he has no more excuses to give, and all of his reasons elude him, fall apart in that unsteady grasp of his. Drop by drop, like the rain, this time and every other time too.

This time, Yui’s voice breaks into his hesitations. “Sawamura won’t stop waiting, you know. He’s not the sort.”

She’s quiet, matter-of-fact as she gets to her feet, and they hear the foosteps fade as the distance between them keeps on growing.

“I know,” says Ikejiri.

The ache returns, a worn-out promise that still stings in his palms.


[personal profile] notallbees - 2017-06-06 14:13 (UTC) - Expand


[personal profile] marks - 2017-06-06 14:23 (UTC) - Expand
willow: Red haired, dark skinned, lollipop girl (Default)


[personal profile] willow 2017-05-29 03:15 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Ryoma/Onoda

Fandom: Prince of Tennis/Yowamushi Pedal

Major Tags: none

Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Ryoma and Onoda are friends.
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-30 01:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: None
Word Count: 425 words


“Here!” Onoda carefully tied the strap through the V throat of the racket where the handle swelled into the head. The little charm swung sweetly, her smiling face beaming up at Ryoma and Onoda both.

“…What’s that?” Ryoma asked blankly, twisting the racket from side to side to watch her dance.

“It’s Pettanko-chan! The main character from Love Hime!” Onoda clasped his hands together, staring at her worshipfully. Ryoma looked from the piece of painted plastic to Onoda, then back again.

“I know who it is. You have a big poster of her in my room. But why did you tie her to my racket?” He asked bluntly.

“For luck! Whenever we sing the Love Hime song, we win. But you can’t sing while playing—“

“I don’t need luck to win,” Ryoma interrupted. The slump of Onoda’s shoulders and the way he hunched his head down a little was enough to make Ryoma’s tone a little gentler. “And I can’t play with something tied to my racket. It’d hit my hand and be distracting.”

“Oh.” Onoda hastily undid the knots he’d tied, tucking the tiny figurine away into his backpack. He thought for a couple of seconds, then his face lit up.

“I’ll get you some stickers instead!” Onoda’s smile, so sweet and innocent, stopped Ryoma from pointing out that professional tennis players didn’t have anime stickers over their rackets.

“I still don’t need luck,” he said instead.

“Of course not - but it can’t hurt!” Onoda beamed up at Ryoma and said, lowering his voice a little, “I’d sing it in the stands for you but everyone’s always so quiet during matches. Not like bike races where all the spectators shout and cheer!”

“You’re not supposed to distract the players,” Ryoma said. Still, he had to admit, the mood at the bike races was infectious. He’d made the mistake of telling Momo last weekend that he had to go watch the finale of Onoda’s race and the whole Seigaku team had turned out to watch with him (and get a glimpse of ‘o-chibi’s chibi-chan’, as Eiji put it). The tennis team had ended up yelling just as loudly as the other spectators – and when Fuji had put a racket in Taka’s hand, Taka’d cheered so much that he’d ended up hoarse.

“Stickers won’t distract them,” Onoda said, still smiling that sweet smile of his. “And only we’ll know they’re there.”

And the rest of his team, Ryoma didn’t point out. What was the point? They all liked Onoda as much as he did.
willow: Red haired, dark skinned, lollipop girl (Default)


[personal profile] willow 2017-05-29 03:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Momoi/Riko

Fandom: Kuroko no Basket

Major Tags: Violence, hopefully!

Other Tags: none

Prompt: Cagefighting AU.
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-30 01:59 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: Violence
Other Tags: None
Word Count: 483 words


Cagefighting is nothing like basketball. Violence is cheered instead of jeered, it’s a solo sport instead of a team sport and there are no time-outs with uncut lemons soaked in honey for those who are tired.

Momoi loves it. She wraps her knuckles in Midorima's tape and waves to her boys (her boys, always her boys, especially Aomine) as she prepares in her corner. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, testing the flexibility of her sneakers, and bounces briefly to make sure the sports bra she’s wearing for a top can contain the weight of her F-cup breasts properly.

The appreciative wolfwhistles in response to that movement are cut off abruptly. Without looking back, Momoi knows either Kuroko or Aomine did something. So precious, her boys. So predictable.

Her hair’s in a braid, pinned up against her head. Hair-pulling is forbidden in cagefighting but it’s hard not to reflexively grab something that snaps in front of you; easier and safer to just remove temptation entirely.

Riko doesn’t have that problem. All she needs is a cloth headband to hold her short hair away from her face. She’s in a sports bra as well and shorts but it’s the smile on her face that catches and holds Momoi’s attention.

For two girls used to being on the sidelines, used to being puppetmasters and strategists, the cagefights are a chance to bleed out all the tension from the matches. They’re just as invested in the games as their players but they can’t take to the court to shoot three point buzzer beaters or dance rings around the defense.

This is their chance to fight; this is their chance to win.

The bell rings and Riko comes out swinging, throwing a vicious cross-jab at Momoi’s face. Momoi barely ducks back in time, stepping back with a spin that lets her left arm slice through the air at Riko’s face. She feels the connection of knuckles against jaw, a jarring pulse that runs up her arm, but even as she smiles in triumph, Riko’s foot sweeps hard against her ankle and knocks her down.

Riko’s on her immediately, pummeling her with blows to her face. Momoi throws one arm up to block, protecting her nose and eyes, thrashing under Riko to dislodge her. Riko’s sneakers press against Momoi’s thighs, Riko locking her feet behind Momoi’s legs for leverage, and Momoi slams a hard punch right into Riko’s midriff instead.

When Riko chokes for breath, Momoi seizes her chance and rolls them over.

There are strands of pink hair slipping free around her cheeks, dancing distractingly just in the edge of her vision. There’s blood dripping down her chin from her split lip, falling onto Riko’s skin. There’s adrenaline in her veins and murder in her heart and she can hear her boys cheering her on.

Basketball’s good but oh, this is so much better.
multilinear: (Default)


[personal profile] multilinear 2017-05-29 03:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: daisuga
Fandom: haikyuu
Major Tags: none.
Other Tags: WINGS.

Prompt: one day, an angel falls out from the sky.

[personal profile] fickle damien im still on ur team dont fck fill this one
carafin: (Default)


[personal profile] carafin 2017-06-08 08:32 am (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: ?brief mentions of sleeping together
Other Tags: wings, sugawara koushi being literally too perfect for this earth, neighbourhood cats with attitude
Word Count: ~900

thank you dear prompter for such a lovely prompt, although i suspect this might not be what you were looking for… i admit i was ridiculously enamoured by the idea of suga sprouting wings, and everything spiralled wildly from there.



There’s something surreal about Sawamura’s new neighbour; actually, surreal doesn’t quite cut it, but it’s the only word Sawamura knows that remotely captures Suga’s particular brand of strange. For one, Suga doesn’t so much live life as he just… floats through it, in a blissfully oblivious bubble. Just two weeks ago a fire had broken out in the building, and Sawamura had spent twenty frantic minutes trying to spot Suga amidst the evacuated crowd, only for Suga to come strolling down the stairwell - serenely and completely unscathed, in a criminally form-fitting bathrobe - half an hour later.

And then there’s the thing with the animals, where Suga - effortlessly - commands the adoration of cats and dogs and birds and god-knows-what-other-creatures alike. It’s bad enough that he’s unwittingly caught Sawamura unsuspecting humans under his spell; apparently, Suga’s charm seems to extend even to the bunch of hostile neighbourhood cats. (Sawamura’s tried to feed them once, out of goodwill, and they’d hissed at him. Hissed.) It’s like a scene from Pied Piper, except minus the pipe, and instead of children he’s got a string of hissy looking felines trailing obligingly after him whenever he goes for grocery runs. Sometimes followed by a few crows, and once even an owl, for added surreal.

And then there’s the time Sawamura caught Suga staring at the washing machines in the laundry room with an expression approximating awe and disbelief. After which, Sawamura had to spend five minutes enlightening Suga as to the purposes of the different buttons on the washing machine. A wild night, that was. (They’ve been doing their laundry together ever since; Suga does his laundry every Thursdays, like clockwork. Sawamura… well, Thursday’s a good a day as any other for doing laundry. Nevermind that, prior to this, his laundry schedule could only have been described as… sporadic.)

Anyway, as if all of that isn’t bizarre enough: further adding on to the mystery is the fact that Suga’s seemingly capable of growing an assortment of plants that cannot, technically, be grown in Miyagi’s climate.

“Heirloom tomatoes,” Suga tells Sawamura cheerfully, one bright Sunday morning, holding a bunch of luscious looking tomatoes, still fresh with dew and ridiculously plump. “Had extras, so I thought you might like them.”

It’s the fifth time this month that Suga’s appeared unannounced at Sawamura’s doorstep, holding a basket of produce. Last week it had been strawberries. The week before, pomegranates. (When asked why, Suga had smiled (his usual too-good-for-this-earth smile), shrugged and said, "Just because.")

There’s only one thing for Sawamura to do.

“I’m taking you out to dinner tonight,” Sawamura says, firmly. A gesture of neighbourly goodness and gratitude, nothing more, he tells himself. “For all the… fruits and vegetables you’ve been giving me. My treat.”


They have dinner at a hot pot place near their apartment. It’s a family-run restaurant, cosy and affordable; their specialty is a mapo tofu dish that’s so spicy, it’s like eating little condensed balls of fire.

Sugawara has three bowls of it.

“This is incredible, I’ve never eaten something like this,” Suga enthuses, reaching for the soup ladle to scoop yet another bowl of the toxic looking stew. Sawamura feels his eyes water just looking at it. “Look, you’re missing out. You’ve got to try this.”

“Err - I’ll give it a pass,” Sawamura begins hastily, but Suga pushes the bowl to him.

“I’m not letting you pay for dinner tonight if you don’t try a bite,” Suga says, and flashes a wicked grin.

“What are you, the devil himself,” Sawamura mutters miserably into his bowl of mapo tofu, but Suga just laughs.


Laundry night Thursdays become mapo tofu Fridays, and then they start going for midnight sake runs. In addition to being immune to spicy tofu, Suga appears to also be spared the earthly woes of terrible hangovers during The Morning Afters, because sometimes he’d appear at Sawamura’s doorstep to drop off flasks of nourishing herbal tea and packets of aspirin, looking as fresh as a baby carrot in spring.

Sawamura would find it terribly unfair, if he weren’t so grateful. If he weren’t distracted by the sight of Suga’s unmade hair, the silvery strands curled against the long nape of his neck.


One day, after going out for midnight sake, they end up sleeping together. Sawamura would be a lying liar who lies if he’s going to claim that he didn’t see this coming. It’s just -

“There are feathers on my bed,” Sawamura observes the next morning, mostly to himself. Next to him, Suga stirs and lets out a contented little snore. (It’s heartening to see that Suga’s fallible to something as uncool as snoring, and also criminally cute, although maybe Sawamura’s just that far gone.)

Sawamura runs his fingers over a feather; it’s soft, spans the length of Sawamura’s pinky, and an indeterminate shade of… grey? Greyish brown? Sawamura twirls it in his finger against the pale morning light streaming in through the blinds.

Under the dappled sunlight the feather turns a shade of silver, so sheer that it’s practically transparent; almost like the shade of tinted glass. Almost, it seems, like the colour of Suga’s hair.


“What are you, really,” Sawamura asks Suga one night, when lights are out and they’re curled up in bed.

“An angel,” Suga tells him.

Sawamura laughs at the answer, and shuts his eyes. He falls asleep next to the gentle curve of Suga’s back, the faint scent of ripened apples, and a soft, distant echo of fluttering wings.

Edited 2017-06-08 08:37 (UTC)
willow: Red haired, dark skinned, lollipop girl (Default)


[personal profile] willow 2017-05-29 03:17 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Manami & Toudou

Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal

Major Tags: none

Other Tags: none

Prompt: Toudou is an actual Mountain God and Manami is his angel.
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-30 01:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: Tags Omitted.
Other Tags: None
Word Count: 413 words


Legend spoke of a mountain god and his winged guardian who lived upon the highest slopes of Mt. Fuji. The mountain god moved silently through the trees, leaving no footprints behind on the crisp snow and appearing only to those whom he deemed worthy. His guardian, the winged boy with the wide eyes, sped laughingly through the roads and granted good fortune and safe journeys home to any whose paths he crossed.

Maidens prayed to the mountain god for even a whisper of his unearthly beauty and when he appeared to them, they would wander about their village, awe-struck and adoring, helpless to speak of anything except the shine of his eyes and the gleam of his hair. They made offerings of brand new hair ribbons and headbands, kisses pressed to cold snow and orange peel carefully cut into the shape of hearts. They write their prayers in their best calligraphy, etching the short pleas onto cards that they tie to trees deep in the heart of the forest. The further into the forest they go, the more likely the mountain god will be to heed their prayers, or so the legend goes.

The mountain god is mysterious but reliable. The winged guardian, however, is a more fickle creature.

Often, he appears to souls in great pain. Men who have broken their legs and are freezing to death in the cold swear that the winged guardian came to them and blew the wind away from them. Pregnant women with no family to help them would walk into the forest and set their birthing sheets up there, praying to the winged guardian for a speedy delivery and their babe’s life. They claim that to give birth in the forest makes labor far swifter and less painful than in the village.

Sickly children who they believe will not survive to adulthood or who are draining the family resources beyond bearing are often sent into the forest to find the winged guardian. Perhaps they do. Perhaps they die. All that is known is that the children do not return.

The villagers call those children ‘offerings’ instead of ‘sacrifices’ and tell themselves that the winged guardian likes to guard children.

Over time, the mountain god and winged guardian are accepted as national folklore and their tales are written in academic texts of the history of Japanese mythology.

(They call them gods, not ghosts, and do not remember the two cyclists who died in an early autumn avalanche.)
willow: Red haired, dark skinned, lollipop girl (Default)


[personal profile] willow 2017-05-29 03:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Nico/Eli or Nico/Maki

Fandom: Love Live

Major Tags: none

Other Tags: none

Prompt: Maki makes it as an idol. Nico doesn’t.
fickle: (Default)


[personal profile] fickle 2017-05-30 02:04 pm (UTC)(link)
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: None
Word Count: 407 words


Nico wakes up. She breathes. She keeps breathing.

The alarm rings again and Nico hauls herself out of bed. After a shower and breakfast, she feels more human, enough to at least admire herself in the mirror. In her pearly blouse and pink suit, she’ll be the cutest girl in the office! Especially with her matching hair accessories.
But that’s the problem, isn’t it?

She’s a girl in an office when she’s supposed to be an idol.

Breathe. Keep breathing.

Disappointment flavors the air as she makes her way to work. If she were an idol, the air would sparkle with possibility and each breath would intoxicate like champagne. Instead, it’s smoggy and she’s wearing a cute kitty mask to protect her lungs without ruining her looks.

Breathe. Keep breathing.

Her phone rings as she gets to work and she glances at the screen – Eli, her super-cute, super-high-powered lawyer girlfriend. As much as Nico loves Eli, she can’t stand hearing from her right now. Eli’s life is so exciting and meaningful compared to Nico’s own drudgery!

Maybe she should’ve studied more at school but her plan was to become an idol. School idols didn’t need great grades as long as they passed their classes and Nico had never thought her grades would actually affect her future.

She loves Eli, she does, but sometimes Eli just makes her feel like a failure without even trying.

Breathe. Keep breathing.

She thumbs the phone over to silent and then signs in, holding the same thumb up to the reader. There’s another girl waiting for the lift – her pleated black shirt and dotted white blouse are quite cute and Nico checks herself out in the lift’s mirror. She’s still prettier.

Newscaster, weather reporter, actress – she’d had such high dreams of a value-added career, once upon a time. Now she files dully into the room, seats herself at her desk and turns on her computer. There’s a photo pinned up on the cubicle wall from the last u’s reunion.

Over the bottom, written in Maki’s flawless calligraphy is her new slogan: you’re always an idol as long as you smile.

Easy for Maki to say that. She’s a famous classical pianist; last time she performed in Japan, she sent all of u’s complimentary tickets and Nico could’ve died of jealousy to see Maki up there on that big stage all alone.

That was supposed to be her life!

Breathe. Keep breathing.

besania: . (Default)


[personal profile] besania 2017-05-29 03:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Niwazuma&/Urakubo
Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal
Major Tags: None
Other Tags: None

Prompt: Niwazuma is a lonely kid that rescues a pretty small, pitiful shark from a net one day. The next day the shark meets him, but it looks... like a human? When told that he will be granted one wish from the shark, Niwazuma asks him for a school friend. So, the shark becomes his friend.

Years forward and now graduation is coming.

(Or, some kind of mermaid AU but not quite.)
willow: Red haired, dark skinned, lollipop girl (Default)


[personal profile] willow 2017-05-29 03:19 pm (UTC)(link)
Ship: Midousuji & Manami

Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal

Major Tags: none

Other Tags: none

Prompt: AU where Manami and Midousuji meet as kids in hospital.
candyharlot: (team ushioi 1)


[personal profile] candyharlot 2017-05-29 11:53 pm (UTC)(link)
oh my fucking god
bookmarks the shit out of this


[personal profile] fickle - 2017-05-30 13:51 (UTC) - Expand