An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/4
Fandom: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Characters: Katsuki Yuuri, Victor Nikiforov, Yuri Plisetsky, Nishigori Yuuko, Phichit Chulanont, Nishigori Triplets, Nikolai Plisetsky, Makkachin (Yuri!!! on Ice)
Additional Tags: Fairy Tale Elements, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Prince!Victor, Dancing, a lot of it, flirtatious games of tag, Witchcraft, Slow Burn
Summary:
Yuuri watches his advance with a poised readiness, head tilted to show the flash of crimson against his throat and the black and silver collar. Caught up in this vision of a man, Victor barely pays attention to his own body as he rides the syncopated pull of the music to each punctuation of clapped hands or stomped foot. And then, eyes never leaving Victor’s, Yuuri chases him back across the floor, steps an unerring echo of Victor’s own.
Back and forth, advance and retreat and slipping past each other near enough that the wind of Yuuri’s passing teases over his shoulder blades. And yet they never touch, all the more intimate for its lack, for the heightened anticipation pricked alive under Victor’s skin.
Victor remembers well wearing that black damask coat, its silken slide under his fingertips. How different would it feel with another’s quickened body underneath?
They say that in his youth, the Prince rode out to meet the deadly Firebird on a snow-blanketed field and stole from her that which she cannot forgive. They say many things of the Prince, whisper that his heart is grown cold and his eyes gone weary and dull. Perhaps the Firebird stole something of his as well.
hello my dudes just wanted to note that there’s some sakamizu cosplay funtimes smut added over here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6049117/chapters/14841883 because nana drew some...persuasive art... (link in the note on the fic)
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/3
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Abe Takaya/Mizutani Fumiki, Mizutani Fumiki/Female OC
Characters: Abe Takaya, Mizutani Fumiki, Original Characters
Additional Tags: Road Trips, Slow Burn, if something can count as slow burn when it's gonna clock in under 15k, I hope, Hurt/Comfort, the comfort part is...dubious..., Future Fic, Aged-Up Character(s), Mizutani No
Summary:
Mizutani is in love. Like totally 100% head-over-heels in love. And what greater romantic gesture than traveling halfway across the country to surprise her with a first visit?
WAVES HANDS VIGOROUSLY UR ATTENTION PLS guess what exhaustion and sick-addled idiot forgot to add some important warnings on the initial post 8D
So uh WARNING for inebriation, mind control stuff (NOTHING BAD HAPPENS I PROMISE), and ok there’s like a tasteless joke about fairies eating people IDK MAN I’M JUST TRYIN TO BE HELPFUL OKAY and as always, if you feel there’s a warning that needs to be on my work that isn’t, please lmk.
And if you missed it, part one (along with tags etc.) is here!!
Sometime in the night Tajima rolls on his back, scooping Izumi up without so much as a by-your-leave and cradling him against his chest. Izumi claws his way into enough consciousness to bite something, possibly clothing. He squirms, trying to at least make it so his wings aren’t being squashed even worse under Tajima’s heavy palm.
Tajima’s sternum is a less than pleasant pillow, so Izumi wriggles over further, nuzzling his way under the fold of Tajima’s shirt. He’s skinny, his chest not the plushest bed in the world, but it’s a distinct improvement. And there’s something pleasant about the gentle expand and contract of his ribs, something a little like being rocked in the breeze in his nest back home. Tajima’s heart beats slow and soft, a distant lulling rhythm. Izumi rests his chin on one hand, peering at Tajima’s face. In sleep, he looks a bit less like a ridiculous child, something a little graceful about his features. He could easily be one of us, just some weird oversized freak.
Izumi smirks, imagining it. What would your magic be, flashing people? Whining? And what colour? Do humans have proper colours, or just boring types? Izumi narrows his eyes, considering. I think you’d just be brown, anyway. The colour of a deer’s flank, or rich river silt. Or maybe like…chartreuse. That seems suitably obnoxious. Honestly, you’d be kinda cute if you looked norm—
Izumi pulls a face. Then scrunches himself back under the fold of the fabric. Except that means he’s wrapped in warmth and softness and Tajima’s scent and his fingers twitching against his leg. Izumi’s fingers twist in the cloth under him, seeming so thin, such a flimsy protection from bare skin.
What the hell is this, now?? He inhales a shuddering breath. I’m just freaked out and confused because of everything that’s happened. Just missing Fumiki. That’s all.
His mind drifts to a smiling face framed with auburn hair, to the sharp delicate momiji-shapes of his wings. To the fire feel-colour of him, not harsh and ravenous but cozy and cheering. To waking up so many mornings with some gangly asshole sprawled over him and shoving him off with a grumble that is completely insincere and he’s always happy to have ignored. To laughter and the wind bearing him aloft and catch me, I dare you and risky mid-air scuffling when Mizutani did, to the rush as they tumbled towards the earth with arms twined around each other and the challenge breathless between them of who would open their wings first. To the first eyes he’d seen when he woke up from another Long Sleep, to the eyes he wants to see every time he rises into wakefulness.
Izumi grumbles, rubbing his face against Tajima’s shirt. Too many feelings, he knows he must be glowing like a beacon to anything not blind. But maybe then he’ll know I’m here, know someone came for him. He pushes the fabric covering him so he can peek at Tajima. Even if I’m pretty much dependent on this giant nuisance. He lets the fabric drop again, resting his head on Tajima’s chest.
Who promptly rolls again, leaving Izumi scrambling to stop himself from slipping too far and getting squashed. Tajima paws at him with a sleepy grunt that is in no way at all cute. Strokes his thumb down Izumi’s side to his hip, his fingers fitting against his shoulders and brushing his nape through the shirt.
Thoroughly outraged, Izumi kicks and scrambles his way free, climbing over Tajima’s arm with clumsiness he steadfastly attributes to irritation and sleep. He jabs under his jaw a few times; Tajima mumbles some nonsense. Izumi stalks over and bites the tip of his nose.
With a fortunately quiet choked noise, Tajima wakes up. “What the heck?” he hisses.
Izumi crosses his arms over his chest. “Get up. Let’s snoop around.”
Tajima considers him for a second before rolling over. “You go snoop.”
Face pinching in a sour expression, Izumi stomps over the futon to yank on the edge of Tajima’s ear. “I can’t, dumbass.”
Abruptly, Tajima sits, leaving Izumi flailing to get a grip on his shoulder. Sulkily, he grumbles, “Fine,” and hops to his feet with alarming perkiness considering he’d been dead asleep only moments before.
Carefully, Tajima picks his way amongst the slumbering bodies littering the floor, stepping out into the cool night. Izumi’s managed to fight his way to a relatively secure perch sitting on his shoulder; he eyes the dim ground below unhappily. Heights are so much scarier when you can’t fly. How do humans stand it? It occurs to him that straddling Tajima’s shoulder might be more secure, but even thinking about it makes him stiffen grumpily. To make himself feel better, he grabs hold of Tajima’s stupid scruffy human hair to hold himself steady.
“Where do we start?”
Izumi blinks. “How should I know?” He peers around as though the darkened farmyard would unveil itself, direct them where to go. “I guess the question is, is he stuck or captive?”
“Or dead.”
Too appalled to even speak, Izumi stares at the curve of Tajima’s cheek.
“I’m kidding!” Tajima strikes out in the direction of one of the buildings.
“He’s not. I’d feel it if he was.” Izumi yanks on Tajima’s hair. “Though he feels…” He can’t pinpoint Mizutani’s location in relation to his own, but he can feel Something in close proximity to him now. Something that makes his skin crawl. With a shudder, Izumi leans against Tajima’s neck, needing warmth. “I wanna get to him fast.”
Tajima just lifts a hand to press against his knees before turning his head a little. “That super tickles.”
This time, Tajima jerks his head away before he can bite him. Balance lost, Izumi’s left clawing frantically at Tajima’s shirt. Fortunately, he catches him against his chest before he’s fallen far. Izumi clenches his hand in a fist, opening it to fling the rain cloud at Tajima’s face.
Or at least tries.
The cloud considers politely forming for a moment before instead directly becoming a gout of water that promptly falls in Izumi’s face. He squawks an outraged noise, leaving Tajima giggling even though he still got wet too.
“After this, I hope I never have to deal with humans ever again.” Izumi shakes off as much water as possible, squirming his way up until he can shiver his wings drier. He hauls himself back up to Tajima’s shoulder, managing to kick him several times.
“Yeah, well, same to you!” Even when he’s back-sassing, Tajima still manages to sound obnoxiously cheerful. “Now shh!”
Izumi hmphs in response, getting a firmer grip on Tajima. Who slides open a door to reveal a dark room full of strange looming shapes and a cacophony of scents. Tajima slinks in, leaving the door cracked open behind them to reach a finger of moonlight across the floor. Izumi blinks, eyes adjusting to the gloom until he can see. The human version might look different but he still has a pretty good idea where they are.
“Tajima. Why are we in the kitchen.”
Tajima just hums vaguely in response, more intent on picking his way over to another door set in the far wall. Beyond it lurks the musty scent of storage and at least one thing that has gone off. Izumi glares at Tajima’s cheek. I hope you eat that.
And then plasters himself to Tajima’s shoulder when he hoists himself up on a chest. Izumi’s wings flick frantically as he spits out several choice words about Tajima’s ancestors. Only to be completely ignored.
“What the hell are you— Look, I can tell you he’s not in here. Can we go?”
“Just a sec. Mihashi said there’s still some dried persimmons left! If I’m gonna be sneakin’ around in the middle of the night, gotta keep my energy up.”
“That doesn’t seem to be a problem for you,” Izumi deadpans, though he’s eyeing the shelf Tajima’s peeking over with equal interest. “Here, just let me up. What’s a persimmon?” He starts to climb up Tajima’s head by way of his ear.
“Hey!” Tajima grabs him around the waist and hauls him off; Izumi considers biting him but is too worried Tajima will drop him. He’s plonked unceremoniously down on the shelf. “They’re a fruit. Orange, and—I guess colour isn’t helpful…”
Izumi sniffs the air experimentally. “’S okay, think I have an idea…”
“What do fairies eat, anyway?” Tajima edges along after him, only knocking one thing to the floor.
“Nosy human children.” Izumi bares his teeth, though he’s not sure Tajima can see.
“I’m not a kid!”
“You sure look like one. Act like it too.”
“Yeah!” He can see the flash of Tajima’s grin. “But ‘m not! Besides, I think you’d get a tummy-ache if you ate that much.”
Izumi leers over a box, illuminating himself with a sputter of unnecessary sparks. “You don’t eat it all at once. If you just take a bit at a time, you can keep ‘em alive for ages.”
“Grooooooooss!” Tajima giggles, shoving the box at him. Izumi dodges, finding himself grinning back. His steps bounce as he advances on the pot he’s pretty sure contains the persimmons or at least something equally yummy.
But he stands stock still at the sound of the door opening with a shunk.
Lantern light floods the room, something they probably would’ve noticed creeping up on them if not for Izumi’s poorly-timed light show. In its betrayingly cheery glow stands Hanai, next to a woman on the far side of middle age holding the lantern.
“Hi, Auntie! Hey, Hanai!” Tajima hangs one-handed off the shelf to wave enthusiastically.
Izumi crouches down, heart pounding. If I jump, could I make it back to him? …But could I do it without either of them seeing?
“Yuu, what on earth are you doing?” For all that she barely reaches Hanai’s shoulder and is smiling sweetly, this Auntie looks at least eight times more formidable.
“Tidying?” Tajima swipes some dust into the air unconvincingly. Izumi shoots him an exasperated glare that he misses entirely.
“You’re trying to sneak food.”
Wow, thanks, Baldy, for stating the obvious. Yell at him already and go away!
Auntie turns her menacing smile on Hanai. “Azusa-kun, I’ve got this. You go on back to bed.”
Hanai flushes. “Don’t call m— I didn’t mean to—”
She claps him on the shoulder firmly. “Go to bed.”
Hanai looks between her and Tajima, brow furrowed, but then shrugs and leaves, grumbling something about spoiled brats always getting off easy under his breath. Tajima sticks his tongue out at the back of his head.
And then smiles uncertainly at the woman now advancing on him. “Auntie, I w—”
“Don’t worry, Yuu,” she sing-songs out, “Auntie’s not cross.” Tajima relaxes with a sigh. And then yelps when her hand snaps out to grab his ear, nearly pulling him off his perch. “Since you seem so interested in the kitchen all of a sudden, why don’t you spend tomorrow in here with me?”
“But I didn’t even eat anything!” Another yank has Tajima hopping down to the floor.
“Good, or I’d be smacking your backside instead. Now get your ass back in bed before I change my mind.” Not giving him a chance to comply, she hauls him off.
And leaves Izumi alone in the dark.
I’m going to fill Baldy’s underwear with bugs and nettles! Just as soon as I can figure out how to get down from here.
Glaring resentfully in the direction of Tajima’s (quite reserved) yowling, he prises the lid off the pot. It pops free and falls to the shelf with an alarming clatter; Izumi freezes, but no further aunties materialise. Inside and just barely within his reach are several of what turn out to be firmly squishy discs wider than he is.
Izumi bites a chunk out of the edge, lowering the persimmon to the shelf as he chews. And then promptly drops down beside it, lifting it so he can gnaw on the edge.
How do humans make something so sweet??
…How many of them could I carry if my wings were healed? He hefts it experimentally before shrugging and deciding he really doesn’t care right now.
He bites his way a respectable distance around the fruit before his heavy-feeling tummy and his droopy eyelids remind him it is still the middle of the night. And no more stinky rolly bed! Izumi huffs out a laugh, wobbling to his feet. Then flops back down, leaning his hands on the persimmon. He pats it thoughtfully before getting up and starting to haul another out. Then drops it and clambers in after it.
The pantry is cool and his shoulders are still damp, but within the confines of the jar it’s cozy, thick with the sweet scent and the fruit soft under him, not so soft, no, as his nest of down and sweet grass, but he makes himself a comfortable enough bed. Way better than dumb stinky human beds. Too full of humans. He giggles to himself and steadfastly refuses to acknowledge the part of him that liked being cozily pillowed on Tajima’s chest better.
Mihashi’s surprised when he returns to the kitchen after morning farm chores to find Tajima at the sink scrubbing out a pot.
He edges over to him, wide eyes flicking from Auntie at one of the heavy prep tables and Tajima’s sullen expression.
“Y-Yuu-kun…”
Tajima turns to him, brightening, mouth opening.
“Yuu is not supposed to be talking to anyone this morning.” Auntie sweeps in between them, taking Mihashi’s arm in an iron-hard grip. “Yuu felt like availing himself of some sweets last night . And after he’d been dilly-dallying all day and making poor Azusa-kun’s life difficult, so he’ll be helping us with a few things today.” As she pulls Mihashi over to the prep table, she frowns back at him. “Oh, and Yuu? You could at least not leave food all over the shelves and jars open. We don’t need vermin when there’s already extra mouths to feed.”
Tajima gives her an outraged look over his shoulder. “I didn’t! I never even ate anything!”
Auntie pushes an empty bowl and a basket of greens towards Mihashi. “We’ll be pickling these ones.” Mihashi nods, fetching a knife; she peers over her shoulder at Tajima again. “Then why did I find the lid off that pot of persimmons? Honestly, Yuu…”
Mihashi blanches. I told him they were there! I got Yuu-kun in trouble… His shoulders climb up towards his ears.
Something round slides into his field of vision on the table top. He looks up to see Auntie smiling kindly at him as if she can’t tell that really it was his fault her nephew was rummaging around in the pantry. “Here. I wasn’t going to put a partially-eaten one back but I’m not giving it to that little skunk.”
Mihashi stares back at her a moment longer before scooping up the persimmon. He tucks it into his shirt for later (and perhaps to illicitly share with Yuu), not noticing the strange shape of the bite marks.
Tajima is almost impossible to keep on task; any time he turns to fetch a new pot, he wanders over to talk with Mihashi, whining loudly when Auntie sends him back to work.
He also keeps sending worried glances at the pantry door.
Mihashi tries to puzzle it out as he finishes slivering the leaves, but with no luck. He holds out the bowl of crisply-scented stalks to Auntie; she nods.
“Now go grab the—oh, I think we need to fetch some more tubs out of the storeroom… Run along and grab a couple, dear.”
Mihashi sets the bowl back on the table, eyeing her nervously. “But that’s…but that’s where…”
“Abe-san was lucky enough we were able to clear him space to have a room to himself to work in. This farm still has business to attend to, no matter how many fancy government men show up. Now hurry along.” She turns away pointedly.
Mihashi wrings his hands, glancing at Tajima for help but finding none.
But…
But ever since he’d glimpsed the peculiar tiny person caught in a fishing basket, it’s been hard to focus on anything else, even the problem of Tajima’s (extra) erratic behaviour.
The world had already seemed so vast and incomprehensible to him even before it had been opened up with thoughts of magic and science. New wonders, but new unnamed horrors too. Mihashi shivers despite the mid-morning warmth, slipping quietly around the outside of the building. And yet still, still, his heart leaps at the prospect of seeing Abe again. I want to…so long as it’s actually him.
Even under the aegis of Auntie’s purpose, he looks around shiftily before opening the door. Quickly, he slips through the crack, closing it behind him. He peers around as his eyes adjust to the gloom.
At first he thinks the basket and its occupant are gone, that perhaps he’d imagined the whole thing. But then, from under an old quilt, comes a small voice:
“Mihashi?”
He flushes, eyes widening, then scurries over. Sure enough, underneath is the basket and the fairy, grinning broadly in greeting. “H-how did…know…?”
Mizutani rolls his eyes. “Humans are so boring! You seem to lack basic senses. You bring any food?”
Mihashi pats his pockets before remembering the persimmon. “N-no…”
“You did, didn’t you?” Mizutani narrows his eyes, mouth pulling down in a pout. “Human’s’re stingy, too.”
“I’m not!” His hands find the small weight, gripping it through his shirt. “I just wanted…I wanted to share w-with Yuu-kun…”
Mizutani’s eyes light up. “I’m tiny. I only want a little bit… Pleeeeeeeeease?” There’s an odd but pleasant melodic quality to his voice.
He deliberates a moment longer, but he does feel sorry for Mizutani being locked up all by himself. He fetches out the dried fruit, twisting and ripping off a small portion which he pokes through the wicker. Mizutani grabs it, beaming gratefully. And then examines the piece.
“Um! It’s…fruit! It’s…sweet!” Mihashi leans forward on his hands, now worried Mizutani won’t like it.
“Someone’s bitten it.”
“Not me! Yuu-kun…!”
Mizutani holds it up to his mouth, comparing the marks. “No, I mean like a me kind of someone.” He snuffles it, eyes widening. Dropping the fruit, he flutters close, staring intently through the wicker. “Mihashi…have you ever seen another fairy?”
Mihashi shakes his head energetically. “Never!” He leans in as well. “There…more?”
Mizutani blinks at him for a beat then smiles. “Lots! I got an older sister and friends and there’s this really cute— Wait,” he narrows his eyes suspiciously, “you’re not gonna try and capture them too, are you?”
Eyes wide, Mihashi sits back. “No! I wouldn’t! I’m not… I wouldn’t.”
“Good. I’m already worried enough about that bastard finding the Tangle.” Mizutani tilts his head, voice slipping into a peculiar cadence. “You wouldn’t happen to feel like letting me out, would you? So I could rejoin my friends?”
Mihashi shakes his head frantically. “No! I couldn’t… Abe-san…”
“You scared of him?”
For a breath, Mihashi freezes. Then nods.
“Me too. And I’m scared of what he’s gonna do to me—or let those scientists-monster-thingies do to me.”
Mihashi fidgets unhappily with the hem of his shirt, eyes darting around the room before lighting on Mizutani again. I’ve been afraid to ask anyone… “There’s…there’s something w-wrong with Abe-san, isn’t there?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Despite his soberness, Mizutani’s voice doesn’t loose its lilting quality, not quite a song but like one half-remembered, one summoned now in Mihashi’s own head.
“A magic thing?” Despite his worry, there’s something warm growing in Mihashi’s stomach, a strange contentedness.
Mizutani nods solemnly.
“You’re magic, right? Can you fix him?”
“I dunno.” His mouth twists in worry. “I think…I think I can see how, but… I’m too weakened, and I just…I don’t have quite the right kind of magic… If Izumi were here, maybe…” He sighs heavily.
Most of his fear is gone, blanketed with a fuzzy warmth. “I could bring him to you!”
“Ye— You don’t know where he is!”
“No, but…!” Mihashi shoots to his feet. “No, I’ll! I’ll do it! I’ll bring…I’ll…”
Mizutani flutters back and forth restlessly. “No, Mihashi! That’s… Mihashi, look at me…” Mihashi sinks back to his knees, smiling. “You know what would reeeeally make me happy, though?” He nods dazedly. “If you just opened up the top of this basket. Even just knocked the weight off!”
Though he nods vaguely, Mihashi frowns. “But then…but you’ll get out. And…and Abe-san says you’re d-dangerous…”
Mizutani sputters out a laugh. “Yeah, right. For one, he barely knows anything more about me than you do. For another, what could I possibly do? You could squish me with your foot.”
Part of Mihashi feels as though there might be more reasons to protest but they don’t seem terribly important. He smiles agreeably as he reaches up and pushes the heavy stone off the basket’s lid and then grasps its edge.
Only to freeze when an icy hand closes about his wrist.
The pleasant warmth is gone, replaced with shards of fear piercing through him. Mihashi shudders, looking up slowly into Abe’s dark, dark eyes.
“Just what. Do you think. You’re doing.”
Mihashi barely even remembers anymore. “N-n-nothing! Noth…”
Abe yanks Mihashi up by his wrist, his other hand slapping down on the basket’s lid before Mizutani can give it more than a single hopeful shove. “Good. Get out.”
Mihashi dangles, terrified, until it becomes apparent Abe’s not going to just release him. With a frantic squeak, he fights his way free, ricocheting off the door and out. He doesn’t stop running until he reaches a dark corner of a disused shed, huddling with his breath still too thin in his chest and fear acid in his throat.
Rating: T for this section, but likely E eventually bc I’m trash
Summary: fairytale Sakabs bc Emm is a filthy, filthy enabler and also I absolutely love fairytales. Prince Takaya must quickly choose a spouse, but to do so, he simply must have a fine new suit. But all is not as it seems, and he must use his wits to protect his country and family, and perhaps a new love.
This is a first draft of a first chapter, thus no tags; please excuse its rough corners. And I PROMISE this is all going somewhere. It’ll probably end up on AO3 in full at some point. And hey, it’s actually...relatively...short...for once...
Once upon a time, there were a king and queen who ruled over a happy and prosperous kingdom, surrounded by many imposing powers on all sides. Their might was great, but the king was such an affable and courageous man, and the queen so well-mannered and beautiful and clever besides, that only rarely did anyone invade their borders, and they were usually quite sorry for it.
The king and queen had two sons, stalwart and strong and handsome, too. The younger son, Shun, was the bright and cheery sun, and spent much of his time amongst the people, getting to know them and their troubles so that he might prove a valuable advisor when his brother assumed the throne. The elder, Takaya, was the north star, mostly keeping to himself within the castle and reading books and studying under learned men and women, so that he might have command of all fields of knowledge when he became king. This is not to say Prince Takaya was unfriendly or unkind, or that the people did not like him; in fact, they felt a great deal of affection for both their princes. He was simply distant.
Both princes enjoyed many kinds of sport, and this was one of the times the people would see Takaya: running on a field or tumbling and wrestling in the dust or thundering out the castle’s gate on his bay courser beside his brother on his black, off to pursue game in the kingdom’s rich forests with a jubilant cry and the sunlight catching on their white grins and their raven hair.
One such hunt is where we find the brothers now, pursuing a wild boar that had made trouble for some farmers. They track it deep into the woods, the hounds finally cornering it against a thicket of brambles. Pierced by spears and harried by snapping hounds, the immense boar is exhausted and injured but enraged, and the princes’ retainers and friends hold back in fear. But brave Princes Takaya and Shun dismount easily, circling round its flanks with daggers drawn and keen eyes watching carefully. As one, they rush in to sink their blades into the beast’s neck before it can decide which way to charge.
A great cry and cheer goes up, and then begins the work of preparing the animal to be brought back to the castle. Takaya and Shun wander a little ways away, down to wash their hands and weapons in a brook.
“That was a fine chase! …Pretty sure I got my knife in first, though.”
Takaya splashes water at Shun. “Like hell you did.”
“We shall ask those present; I’m certain they’ll agree.”
“If they do, it has more to do with their fondness for you than the truth.”
Shun splashes water back at his brother. “Then another contest! Something that—Taka, what is that?”
“What?”
Shun stands, pointing urgently across the stream, though his voice is a low whisper. “There! That… A pale shape, perhaps a hind…”
“I see nothing.”
“She is wounded. Taka, can you not see?” Shun turns back to his brother, face alight. “There! That is our contest! See who may run down this wounded hind on foot.” And without waiting for a word of agreement from his brother, he leaps across the brook, dashing into the woods.
“Shun…!” Takaya grumbles, but sheathes his dagger and races after him.
He sees no sign of Shun’s hind, but Takaya can follow his brother’s form well enough. Still, he is not the most fleet of foot and cannot catch him. That is, until he stumbles out into a small clearing.
The hind is nowhere in sight. At the roots of a great tree, Shun is beset by three wolves, laying about himself with his dagger. And up in the tree, clinging desperately to the bole, sits a maiden. Her hair is spun gold, her eyes blue as a still pool, her complexion fine and unmarred, even with tears on her cheeks. She wears a pricely-looking gown and the daintiest of golden slippers on her feet, which hang just above the snapping teeth of the wolves.
All this, Takaya takes in in the time it takes him to draw his weapon and cross the clearing to his brother’s aid. Together, they are more than a match for the wolves, and slay two and send the last wounded and running.
Shun peers up at the maiden, but Takaya looks to his brother’s face, and wonders at the adoration he sees there.
“Here, I’ll help you down…”
“Thank you, thank you for saving me!” Her voice is as pleasing as the rest of her. “I have been running through these woods for days and knew not what was to happen to me.” Graceful as a cat, she slips off the branch and into Shun’s waiting arms; he catches her, blushing and grinning and looking over at his brother to see his reaction.
Takaya stands with his arms crossed. “You don’t look like someone who’s been lost in the woods.”
“Taka!”
The maiden draws herself up. “The thorns and branches will not assail a true lady, and I am a true lady. I am the Princess Lavender from your allies in the west, the kingdom of Tylain, and I come begging succor from your court and royal parents.”
Shun has somehow failed to release Lavender from his arms. “You are in danger, my lady?”
“Oh, we are all in great danger! My home has been overrun, my father and brothers slain before my very eyes, and even now, the enemy roams my kingdom, putting any resistance to the sword and claiming its riches as their own.”
Takaya nods curtly. “We have heard reports that Tylain was beset by some enemy to the northwest.”
Shun turns huge eyes on him. “We must help! At the very least, we must bring the princess back to safety at court...”
He feels a sense of unease, but Takaya cannot find in himself an acceptable argument, and so it is decided. They set off back through the forest; Shun insists on carrying Lavender—she must be exhausted, after all—and Takaya quickly moves to lead the way rather than be subjected to their shy glances, their giggling, their chaste, tender touches.
They rejoin their party soon after, to many shouts of gladness. A mare is brought for the princess, and Shun helps her mount, riding beside her and chatting amiably. They arrive at the city with a triumphant sounding of horns. Word spreads fast up to the castle of their success and that they are accompanied also by a great and regal beauty, so that when they reach the gates, the king and queen are there to receive her.
They, too, are charmed by her grace and beauty, touched by her sorrowful tale. The queen whisks her away to let her bathe and clothe her in a fresh gown, and the king sits with his advisors and his two sons to discuss what they must do.
“The kingdom has not formally requested our help yet.”
“What more formal request can there be than a princess come to throw herself on our mercy?”
“And what confirmation have we that she is who she says she is?”
King Takashi rubs his clean-shaven chin. “No, it is she. I had journeyed to Tylain some seven years back, if you recall, and I met the lady when she was but a girl. Age has bestowed greater beauty and a woman’s form on her, but it is she. Some of you were with me then; you can confirm it.”
Prince Takaya frowns, some inconsistency digging at him but not yet declaring itself.
“Why do you look so vexed, Takaya? Have you some opinion to offer?”
“Mm? No, nothing. Except,” he glances over at Shun, who stares out a window dreamily, “this could be an opportunity for us to expand our borders.”
One of the advisors speaks up. “Surely, you do not mean to take advantage of Tylain’s weakened state…?”
“Of course not. But if what she claims is true, Tylain needs a king, and we may be able to give them one.” He nods at Shun, and all present turn to consider him.
“Shun,” Takashi starts, calling the prince’s wandering attention back to the table, “You seem to find the princess comely enough. Are you in agreement with this? Will you wed the Princess Lavender and assume the throne with her, once we have driven back their invaders?”
Shun stares at him for a moment, mouth opening and closing, then looks down at the table. “I am… But I am not trained in the ways of kingship, and Takaya…”
“Nonsense. You are just as wise strong as I, in your way. Besides,” Takaya clasps Shun’s shoulder, “it never sat well with me that some day you would be my vassal. I would rather stand beside you as an equal.”
Shun flushes, then beams. “A new contest! We shall see who makes the better king.”
“Indeed, though hopefully, I shall not enter the contest for many years, yet.” Takaya gives his shoulder one last clasp.
With that course of action decided, they turn to how to free Tylain. Their own country’s forces are spread across the realm and would take time to muster, but this might prove fortunate, for they would need time.
It was the custom in the land that the king’s children must be wed in order of birth, and Prince Takaya did not yet have a spouse. Once more, the proposition was made that, instead of Shun, Takaya should wed the princess, but it is met with a cry of dismay from Shun and Takaya alike.
Takaya fixes the courtier who proposed it with a bland glare. “That would be a cruelty. And besides, she is a fine woman, but that is not where my preferences lay.” He turns to his father. “Surely, we are a modern nation, and can dispense with such superstitious nonsense?”
“It is not nonsense.”
Everyone looks to the king, who leans on the table, hands clasped in front of his mouth.
“The reason our nation is so great is because of ancient magic woven by a powerful sorcerer in debt to our ancestors. One of the many caveats of this spell is this custom. You,” he looks up at Takaya, “will be educated in all of these when you assume the throne. But this, I must insist upon. There was a time that you yourself have read about in your history books where this covenant was not upheld, and it was a dark time for this nation.”
“So find me someone acceptable, and we shall speak our vows and have done with it.”
Shun shakes his shoulder. “How can you be so callous with your own heart?”
“My heart serves my country first.”
Takashi laughs. “I admire your dedication, but I would go to my grave happier knowing you had at least some happiness in your match.”
They stare each other down for a long moment, then Takaya sighs. “If you insist, I will attempt to find love somehow in the time it takes for our troops to muster.”
“Excellent.” The king ignores his son’s tone, thinking. “Then we shall throw a grand ball to celebrate Prince Shun’s engagement and invite persons of note from all over, and you shall choose from amongst them.”
“A ball!” Shun lights up.
“A ball.” Takaya rubs between his brows, groaning. “Father... I submit, but may I make one request?”
“Unless it is that you be allowed to be absent, then yes.”
“I wouldn’t...! No. I would request you make this ball a masque. I will put duty first, but I still do not wish to wed someone who I do not care for and who does not care for me as well, and I do not want them swayed simply by the fact that I am your heir. No, I would meet these suitors with my identity hidden and theirs as well, that we may judge one another more truly.”
Takashi squints at his older son, but then nods slowly. “So it shall be.” He claps his hands. “Come, now, you all know your business. We have much to arrange.”
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Abe Takaya/Mihashi Ren
Characters: Abe Takaya, Mihashi Ren
Additional Tags: Future Fic, Fluff, like be prepared for some seriously tooth-rotting goings-on, also some seriously stupid stuff, Established Relationship, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand, Masturbation, Voyeurism, B), PWP, in as much as my stuff is EVER truly PWP
Summary:
They haven't been dating for THAT long, all things considered. Mihashi knows this. But it was a long time coming, and now...life with Abe just seems to make sense. And it's hard not to think about taking Next Steps, especially when they're attending their friends' wedding, sharing a room...which, of course, gives Mihashi plenty of time to appreciate Abe's purely physical appeal, too.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Ookiku Furikabutte | Big Windup!
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Abe Takaya/Mihashi Ren
Characters: Abe Takaya, Mihashi Ren, Kamishiro Shouma
Additional Tags: PWP, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Car Sex, Domestic Fluff, Hand & Finger Kink, and from that much, it should be obvious to some who this was for..., Accidental Voyeurism
Summary:
Commission done for suddenlygamtav! Abe and Mihashi are buying their first bed together, which is exciting for many reasons. At least they make it back to the truck before acting on that...
Poor Shouma is just putting in a lil cameo bc I was told I'd get bonus points for it. He deserves better than this... *paffs poor lil Shouma*
Summary: plasticcrack is entirely to blame for this. Misae is very proud of her sons (even if she dotes on one a bit more than the other). So she's very happy to have a captive audience to look at some baby photos...
Consider this a part one, but it's a good place to stop for the moment. I'll prolly finish it tonight, though!
PSST!! There's more of this over here!
“Taka’s just upstairs. TAKAAAA!!” Mihashi jumps, fingers tightening on the strap of his bag. Even Obasan is a little scary…
She looks at him expectantly. “Well? Come in! Don’t just stand out in the cold…” Shaking himself, he steps inside, taking off his shoes, and then wandering a few steps into the house, uncertain. He glances through to the kitchen, where Obasan has returned to doing something with a computer. There’s a low electronic whine and a mysterious bright moving light from a large, flattish machine beside it on the counter. He edges closer.
“Th-that is?”
“Mm? It’s the scanner.” Obasan smiles proudly, beckoning him over. “I’m scanning old photos. Look! Shun, the first time we gave him an ice cream cone." She holds up a picture of an toddler in a stroller, face and shirt covered in white soft-serve ice cream. He looks delighted, though he appears to have forgotten about it: the cone is visible stuffed upside-down in a drink holder.
Mihashi smiles. "Cute!"
"Isn't he?" She turns the photo towards her, smiling at it. Mihashi admires the gentleness of the expression. Obasan is truly a nice person, though, even if she's scary. "It took an HOUR to clean out the stroller! Ah, what a day... Oh, but here..." She reaches into a small filing box, rummages around, and then shows him another photo. "You'll care more about this one! There's Taka, more than a year older, but not any less of a slob!" Mihashi inhales a little startled sound, unconsciously lifting his hands to the photo; Obasan lets him take it with an indulgent look. This photo is from further away, and still shows Shun, happily sucking on his hand, and also Abe standing beside the stroller, gripping a strap attached to the handle, and chewing on the cone of his ice cream with a serious frown. There is ice cream all over his face and dripping down the front of his shirt. Mihashi huffs out a little laugh.
"See? Such an ungraceful boy! We just ended up sending them to run through the sprinklers when we got home…"
"Abe-kun...r-running...?"
"Mm? Oh, but then he got all fussy about the water getting on his face. Said it was “too high”." Obasan looks at his incredulous expression and snickers. "What, you thought he was BORN being all cool like that? Like,” she draws her eyebrows into a frown, pinching her cheeks and pulling her mouth into a flat line, ““This is the ideal speed to walk for ‘Down Fell Daruma”, I’m gonna beat all these chumps!” Like that, eh?” Mihashi giggles, then looks down at the photo again. “…Though he was always a pretty serious kid, to be honest… Hey, wanna see more pictures?” She picks up the box, rifling through it.
“Mom, he doesn’t want to see that crap.” Abe comes into the kitchen, pulling on a coat as he steps over to a small plastic box on the table; Obasan pulls a sour face at the back of his head. “Thanks for lunch, Mom! Shall we go?” He stops, frowning at Mihashi. “You gonna be warm enough? We’re not doing practices like this if you’re gonna let your shoulder get cold…”
“I brought! In the hall! And gloves for between!” Abe smiles, nodding once, then pushes back through the door, assuming Mihashi will follow. Which he does, with one last, lingering look at the box full of photos and a grateful smile at Obasan.
--- --- ---
Misae sets the mug of cocoa down on a coaster beside his notebook. “Taka, are you intending to spend the entire holiday at home?”
“I was out with Mihashi the other day!” Abe leans back on his hands, stretching his legs out, toes pointed, then leans forward on the table again.
“To do baseball stuff. Do you even know how to have fun? Go to a movie. Do something normal teenagers do.”
“I have homework.”
“Hm.” It’s impressive how much judgement can be packed into such a short syllable. Abe steadfastly ignores her until she’s out of the room.
It’s not like the winter break is even that long, so what’s the point of trying to see people? It’s NICE to get a break from everyone… He scowls down at passage he’s been taking notes on. I mean, yeah, it’d be nice to do something fun, even just hang out…but… He takes out his phone, looks at it, puts it back in his pocket, and takes a sip of cocoa. If I text Mihashi, he probably won’t answer, but then I can tell Mom I tried, and she’ll probably leave me alone.
[05:33pm]
[To: Mihashi Ren]
[From: Abe Takaya]
[Subject: Hey, wanna hang out?]
[Mom’s bugging me to get out of the house. You free tomorrow? Doesn’t have to be a big deal or anything, we can just hang out. Or we could do baseball stuff if you really want. But not too much! You’re supposed to be
← ← ←
[Mom’s bugging me to get out of the house. You free tomorrow?]
He slips his phone back into his pocket and puts it out of his mind. Which is why he nearly drops his mug when it vibrates and chimes a while later. He smiles when he sees who it’s from, and the subject line, but then his expression clouds over.
[05:57pm]
[From: Mihashi Ren]
[Subject: I’d like to…]
[But I’m not free tomorrow! I’m sorry.]
“The hell do you MEAN, not free?!”
“TAKA, STOP YELLING!”
“Sorry!” He glares down at his phone. The hell? Who does he even have plans with? Tajima? He sees Tajima all the fucking time! Why--
His phone chimes again.
[05:59pm]
[From: Mihashi Ren]
[No Subject]
[Maybe another time, though? If that’s okay…]
Abe feels his cheeks heat up. Perhaps guilt for getting so riled up, even if Mihashi wasn’t here to see it. He takes a deep breath.
[06:05pm]
[From: Abe Takaya]
[Subject: That’s fine.]
[It’s totally fine. I mean, I’ve already texted some other guys, t
← ← ←
How lame can I GET?
[Another time sounds good. I really want to see you mor
← ← ←
WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT??
[Another time, then. Let me know when you’re free? Have fun tomorrow!]
He stares at the text a long time before finally hitting send. It’s still embarrassing and lame, but he consoles himself with the fact that Mihashi’s the only one who’ll see it, and he won’t care. But now, he feels obligated to make plans with SOMEONE. Abe scrolls through his list of contacts thoughtfully. If I text someone from middle school out of the blue like this, won’t it be awkward? And it’s not like there’s even anyone I particularly want to see from there… Sighing, he picks Hanai’s name off his contacts list, and copy-pastes the first message to send to him.
He narrows his eyes, reading the text over, muttering, “The hell are YOU so chipper about…?” Before he can puzzle out an answer, another message comes in.
[06:09pm]
[From: Hanai Azusa]
[Subject: ah, i see…]
[so you don’t have a date, then? i’d make fun of you, but then it's not like i’m not in the same boat… sure, let’s do something. did you wanna come here or something…?]
[06:10pm]
[From: Abe Takaya]
[Subject: What?]
[What do you mean, don’t have a date?]
Abe exits out of the messaging on his phone to look at the calendar. Sure enough, the date reads 12/24. Oh.
[06:14pm]
[From: Abe Takaya]
[Subject: It’s not that.]
[I just didn’t know what you meant. I don’t really pay attention to that kind of thing. Anyway, yeah, I’ll head over there. When should I show up?]
[06:16pm]
[From: Hanai Azusa]
[Subject: suuuuuuuuure. (￣ー￣ ;)]
[yeah, head over here after lunch, maybe? let’s say one.]
[06:17pm]
[From: Abe Takaya]
[Subject: Sounds good.]
[I’ll see you then.]
[06:21pm]
[From: Abe Takaya]
[Subject: About that…]
[Do you think any of the other guys have a date tomorrow?
← ← ←
Abe very nearly growls, tossing his phone down on the table, and pushes himself up to take his mug to the kitchen and tell his mother (only a LITTLE bit triumphantly) that he’s going out tomorrow.
