An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
fandom: kuroko no basuke
summary:
The breakup hadn’t been bad, per se. It could hardly have been anything the way it ended.
Akashi reaches out to touch the maple in front of the house, its last leaves dangling helplessly in the breeze. Mayuzumi takes out his phone—to jot down notes, as he does. A single leaf symbolizes loneliness, footsteps in the snow are foreboding. Silly things that he doesn’t quite know why he still keeps track of when he has not written anything worth publishing in such a long time.Â
pairing: mayuzumi chihiro/akashi seijuurou
notes: they go on a not-date, i guess! it’s been a while folks.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
fandom: kuroko no basuke
summary:
“I’d like you to meet one of the new recruits,” Akashi says finally, after he’s done sorting through the piles. He smiles down at Mayuzumi and holds out a roll of newspapers. “Not today, mind you, but well… you’d be so kind as to help me put these back in place first, won’t you?”
“Hell no,” Mayuzumi replies, but he does so anyway like the fool that he is.
pairing: mayuzumi chihiro/akashi seijuurou
notes:Â a continuation of the steampunkverse. happy mayuaka day! _(:3/
The impressive part of SweetDream isn't that it generates text, it's that the text understands you. My companion reads my mood, adjusts her tone, and responds like she actually gets it.
Emotional intelligence like that is the quality that matters most in a companion. It's the difference between being processed and being understood. On sweetdream.ai, an AI girlfriend feels like the latter.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
fandom: kuroko no basuke
summary:
Mayuzumi Chihiro is quite rightly sick of the noise bothering him all throughout his stay at the manor. The terrible howling storm, the clack-clack of heavy boots, but above all, the strange violin music that always starts just as he is about to turn in.
It is, he decides, time for an investigation.
pairing: akashi seijuurou & mayuzumi chihiro
notes: yeah it’s part of the (platonic) mayuaka the secret garden au i was supposed to have written uhh, 3 years ago. anyway. happy birthday, mayuzumi!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
fandom: kuroko no basuke
summary:
Mayuzumi and that time he just can't fucking spit it out, because he has no feelings, or something. [Spy AU]
pairing: nijimayu
word count: 830
notes: this was a treat for @uneplumesombre for chocolate box 2018; now that authors have been revealed, i’ve decided to link it on tumblr too! :3c
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
To: @seijuurous / @seijuurouus (i’m not sure which account you use more so i’m tagging both haha;;)
From: @sann-lykke
Message/Note: hello and merry christmas!!! im so glad i got to do something mayuaka for knbss! i was partly inspired by cross colors’ youkai designs for this fic, and i hope it’s to your liking!! <3 a preview below:
The first thing that alerts Mayuzumi to the anomaly is a misplaced book.
If there’s anything he diligently keeps organized, it’s his books. Shelves upon shelves of rare and treasured light novels packed neatly into every nook and cranny. Despite the sometimes-mess that would inevitably happen once exam time or deadlines rolled around, Mayuzumi likes to think he keeps things relatively tidy.
But: the book. Mayuzumi had not touched it since he finished his fourth reread of the series approximately two months ago. So why the fuck is it where the fifth volume of Kidnapped by a Time-Traveling Samurai Waifu!! should be?
Mayuzumi, per the request of a friend, looks into a strange video on the Internet. (Ring AU)
Maybe it was a mistake doing this, but well, he can’t do anything about that now. The video won’t disappear now that he has it sitting in a folder—he stares at the screen, the heat beneath his fingers never reaching his skin. Even considering his skills the video had been a bitch to find, hidden beneath layers and layers of encryption in a corner of the Internet he’d never even known existed.
(How had the kids found this then? He tries not to think about it as he double-clicks the file.)
The video fizzles into life, filling his screen. At first, he sees nothing.
(It’s so quiet, he realizes too late. So quiet.)
kagami taiga and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day / kagami & gom / ao3
There's just something about the box of Peeps in Kagami's kitchen that calls to him.
Tatsuya had showed him some YouTube videos about destroying Peeps once, but it’s not like Taiga has time to hop on a laptop and review them. The Peeps are loose inside his house—he has to destroy them before his parents come home and find out he’s opened the box.
And besides, they’re not normal Peeps. He isn’t so sure any of those tactics would work against haunted Peeps.
Chihiro says, “I can’t give you a magic potion to cure her or whatever. I don’t know any sea witches who can do that, either.
“Even if they can, you know what the legends say, don’t you? If there’s any truth to these tales of transformations, it is that each of them is invariably a curse.”
Seijuurou stares at him fully, his eyes entrancing—it’s almost a little scary how vivid the color is, Chihiro thinks. Something’s different though, something that he’s noticed before but never as strongly as now—a different slant of light in his left eye.
“Is that so?” he says finally, exhaling, and Chihiro sees the glint leave. “I see. My apologies for asking. It is foolish of me to think such a thing could help.”
it’s just not me to wear it on my sleeve / mayuhimu / ao3
It's not like Mayuzumi had expected basketball to just disappear from his life once he started university. He just hadn't expected anyone else to reappear with it.
It’s simple, he tells himself. Basketball. He just wants to stay in shape. Playing sports is a luxury he won’t have anymore once he’s set loose into the real world of long office hours and shitty pay. But when he looks up from the sidelines at the figure breaking out from the pile of bodies guarding him, the perfect curve of a three-pointer cleaving through the air, the coach’s whistle signaling the end of the game as it lands neatly inside the hoop, well.
It’s not that simple.
fic fill for saso 2017 bonus round one (AU), for this particular prompt: aomine is a literal being made of light, and kise's wizardry tries to contain him.
The way he casually says it seems more like an omen of death rather than a simple introduction. Daiki. Wow, he's not even subtle. He isn’t holding any other weapons, but the trail of dead he’s left behind is more than enough of a threat.Â
Ryouta stands his ground, looking up at the Tyrant—no, Daiki—with a pleasant smile. “Yeah?”
a flame of recca AU; or, kagami taiga and the perils of kanji-based magic
( this will make more sense if you’ve seen/read FoR, but anyway - the akakaga tag is dead and i want it to be alive :( )
“Again,” Akashi says. “Your form is atrocious.”
“Fuck that,” Kagami replies. Two seconds later he’s face-first in the sand, the searing pain on his side another reminder that none of these assholes are going to give him any rest. He can see Akashi standing dangerously close, peering down at him. “I mean, you’re here. That means I did it correctly, didn’t I?”
Then he yelps, feeling the point of a foot dig hard into his injured side. Akashi folds his arms delicately as he speaks. “As disappointed as I am in your penmanship, Kagami Taiga, yes, I am here. However, do not think for one moment that I do not detest being summoned like that. And as a matter of fact—”
“I haven’t been able to get Murasakibara to come out,” Kagami mutters, pushing Akashi’s foot away as he manages to stand up again. It’s stupid that even when he’s towering over Akashi that he still feels looked down upon. At the very least, it seems his admittance of the fact has softened the withering look on the other’s face just a bit. “I know, I know. Just…let me try again.”
“Very well.”
This time Kagami reacts in time to dodge the attack, which narrowly singes a few hairs. He curses and jumps back, his right hand already going through motions. Fire swirls blue in the palm of his hand, taking form into the shape of a sword. Oi, Bakagami, why the hell are you calling me?
“Only because your name is easier to write,” Akashi replies to Aomine’s internal complaint, then rushes forward, meeting the sword with his bare arm. Of course he would do that, it isn’t like Akashi’s gonna die. Kagami grunts and pushes back, but out of the corner of his eye he sees Akashi’s other arm coming towards him. “Focus, Taiga.”
“Oh hell no—“
He swings around to block the flames, but Akashi jabs at his shoulder painfully, and he loses his balance. At the last moment he stabs the sword into the sand, then twists away just as Akashi’s flames hit where he’d just stood seconds ago.
Hey, that hurts!
Shut up and just help me, Ahomine.
“If you only know how to dodge,” Akashi says, somehow appearing right above him, “It will only be a matter of time for your brother to kill you. You do know that, right?”
“Of course I fucking—“
Then Kagami sees Akashi’s left eye glow golden, and he gulps.
Did you have to open your big mouth, he can hear Aomine grumble. Jesus, Murasakibara, just get out there already!
A petulant whisper answers in the back of his mind. Don’t wanna.
“Oi, if I die, all of you die,” Kagami growls, suddenly flicking his sword upwards, stabbing at the space between them. Akashi is forced to back away, but Kagami knows he’s not done yet. The glint in his eye can only mean one attack is coming.
Focus.
This time, Kagami thinks about a shield as he traces Murasakibara’s name in the air, the strokes coming back to him like the first time he managed to drag the lumbering giant out of the seal on his arm. Reluctant as Murasakibara always is to fight, at least he isn’t on Haizaki’s level of difficulty in controlling.
This time, it works.
Tch, annoying.
A spark of purple appears before his eyes, and then the barrier spreads before him, shooting upwards just as Akashi swings down his hand. The shifting sands part beneath their feet in a whirl as the beam of golden flame cuts across the air to meet the flames of the barrier. The ensuing impact throws Kagami backwards, and he grits his teeth as he feels the sand rub against his wounds. Still, as he looks up, he sees the barrier has held.
“Much better,” he can hear Akashi say, though he cannot see anything but dust.
“I hate all of you,” Kagami says, mostly truthful.
Even knowing the fact that Akashi hadn’t really been trying kill him—…probably—Kagami can’t help but wonder if he’s got some other reason to be here. He washes his face in the shitty communal bathroom and cleans up, glad there’s nobody else here—the rest of his team had gone out to the training grounds earlier. Just as well—he’s the only one able to access the spirits’ mind-portal after all. And…
Akashi is waiting for him outside, handing him a towel as he comes out; he mutters a thanks before proceeding to throw it around his neck. They walk down the hallway together, neither saying a word.
Kagami feels his entire body ache, the burn on his side still throbbing distinctly. He sneaks a peek at Akashi, whose smooth skin carries no visible wounds, no traces of cuts or burns or bruises. “I was wondering…”
“A scarce occurrence.”
“Hey!” Then, after a beat, “Why are you the only one who can appear like this?”
“Hm?”
“The others, they can’t, you know…” Kagami waves a hand around. Even with the other flame spirits becoming a part of his daily life, Akashi’s existence is still beyond his understanding, even with all the other theoretically physically impossible things happening around him. “Exist in the human world. Or whatever. It’s like they’re haunting my brain or something.”
Akashi gives him a mildly exasperated look as he pushes open the door to Kagami’s room. “I doubt your brain is an object anyone would find desirable to haunt, Taiga.”
“…So do you just appear to laugh at me, or.”
“I choose to appear because I want to make sure you fulfill your task, Kagami Taiga,” Akashi says, with some sort of finality that Kagami does pick up on this time, and so he closes his mouth. “Considering we are bound to you and would disappear should you die from unforeseen circumstances—“
“You mean Tatsuya.”
“Exactly.”
Kagami sits on his bed. Akashi does not sit; he has one hand on the chair near the window, looking outside at the grounds below. Undoubtedly thinking too long and too hard about something Kagami cannot and cannot bother to understand. Still, the sunlight on his face, the shadows on the ground where he stands, makes for a reminder that despite his (annoying) nature Akashi is corporeal and not just a figment of his imagination. All of this had happened so fast that Kagami still wakes up every day half-expecting to be on a hospital bed from a lengthy coma.
But he is here instead, fighting for his life, and for answers. “There’s something different about you.”
Akashi doesn’t answer, but turns his attention from the window to him. This just makes Kagami more nervous, although now that he’s blurted out whatever’s on his mind (again!), there is simply no way to take it back.
(He wonders if—if he presses his thumb to the scarlet character etched upon his forearm, if Akashi would feel the call like the others do, but Kagami has never tried with him. Outside of battle Akashi comes and goes as he pleases, always.)
“Alex told me about ghosts once,” he continues. It’s partially true, though that particular conversation had arisen from pretty much the same confusion he’s currently experiencing. He has an inkling Akashi knows where this is going, such is that Kagami can see a shadow come over his face. “The more regrets they have in life, the more of them that stay behind. Something like that.”
He is met with silence. Kagami doesn’t dare look up (had he said something wrong again? It wouldn’t be the last time, honestly) for a few moments, but then he feels Akashi sit down next to him.
(Is that a sigh Kagami hears? Is he after all this time just a living, breathing human being masquerading as something else?)
“I will not explain it in detail,” Akashi says, his words chosen carefully, diplomatically, and Kagami feels his insides twist. “Because it does not concern your upcoming battle. Should you survive that encounter, I suppose it shouldn’t hurt to disclose the reason for my being here.”
“Are you telling me I’m not strong enough to know?”
Perhaps sensing the rising belligerence in his tone, Akashi jabs him in the shoulder, just above where his tattoos begin. “You are simply not ready.”
“Stop being cryptic,” Kagami grumbles, massaging his shoulder. But really, what had he been expecting? It’s not like any of them to speak so openly about their existences. Even Kise had quickly changed the subject after a so like, are you guys still gonna hang around after I win this tournament? that’d slipped out of Kagami’s mouth a few weeks back. Maybe it’s too complicated for a mere mortal like him to understand, but… “Fine. You better tell me after this is all over.”
Akashi gives him a sidelong glance. “Yes.”
Well. Lying down on the bed, Kagami looks to the ceiling, at the fine cracks running across it. “You don’t think I’ll win?”
“I never said that.”
Kagami continues to stare at the ceiling, feeling the coolness of the ring on his skin. He thinks about the first time he met Tatsuya—the first time after all those years—and the old scar on his cheek, the one that had set everything in motion. Had the spirits already been watching since then? “You said unforeseen circumstances. Can’t you see the future, or something?”
He does not expect Akashi to lean in as well, so when he does so Kagami freezes mid-yawn. But the expression on Akashi’s face is neutral for once. “You really don’t understand, do you?”
“What?”
“To make it clear,” Akashi says, slipping a finger around his chain and yanking him upwards, until they’re seeing eye to eye. If ghosts were smoke and mirrors, Kagami can definitely feel the heat radiating off Akashi’s skin, smell the fire and brimstone in the air. Though this isn’t the first time Akashi has so definitively invaded his private space, he can’t help but notice how close their faces are. “You are not dying on me.”
“Is that,” Kagami replies, trying to wriggle out of the enclosed space; he fails. “Supposed to be followed up with I’m the only one who’s allowed to kill you, or something.”
The pressure on his neck lessens as Akashi pulls away. “A technical impossibility.”
“I could’ve died today.”
“But you didn’t.” Akashi traces a finger down Kagami’s chin, lifting it so Kagami is again looking up at him. The view, Kagami decides, isn’t too bad when Akashi isn’t actively trying to break every bone in his body. “Get some rest.”
“Hah?”
“You have an hour. When you wake up, finish the penmanship assignments on your desk.” He slips off the bed, legs bumping against Kagami’s when he does so. “We will continue training after dinner.”
“Oh,” Kagami says, touching his chin with his own hand. “Hey, where are you going?”
“Taiga, go to sleep.”
“Okay, okay…”
Akashi stops halfway through opening the door, hanging back. Even from this distance Kagami can still feel the residual tension in the air; mostly his fault, he supposes, but it does not stop him from hoping. “Though, in case you need me…”
“Yeah?”
Kagami feels the burn on his forearm, but this time he does not need to look to know what it is. He can also undeniably feel the heat on his face. “Oh. I…yeah, got it.”
The door closes.
(It had been faint, but had Akashi been smiling? He must’ve imagined that, surely.)
As he lays down on the bed once more, Kagami can hear someone sigh at the back of his mind. Oh, Kagamicchi, this is painful to watch—
“Shut up, Kise,” he murmurs out loud, burying his head in a pillow. So much for getting any rest. The snickers he hears tell him he’s still a long, long way from solving this newly arisen complication in his life.
