Title:As the Prophecy Foretold Author:@louciferish Pairing: Gen (background victuuri) Word Count: 4,410 Rating:G
Summary: One moment, Phichit was on a dingy nightclub stage in front of a smattering of desperate locals and disinterested tourists, about to perform his penultimate trick: making himself disappear.
The next, he was in a lush forest clearing, surrounded by a ring of mushrooms, and three strange men dressed like something out of a storybook illustration, all staring at him in rapt fascination.
“I don’t think I’m in Bangkok anymore, Toto,” Phichit whispered. They were solid last words, which was good, because that’s when he passed out.
a preview of my and @banacotta‘s piece for @yoimagiczine! it’s a mixed-genre high fantasy piece ;)
i also have a promo ficlet for it that’ll also go up this weekend, my schedule permitting (since i’m travelling to china tomorrow!)
A slim figure stands to the side of the late summer bonfire, arrayed in robes of blue so pale they’re almost white, sparkling like an opal in the dancing light. Long black hair blows gently in the twilight breeze, as unfathomably dark as the night sky, as smooth as silk.
“Oh, no.” Viktor turns at the sound of Yura’s voice. His cousin’s brows are furrowed at the figure. “Him again. I still haven’t forgiven him for leaving the Sand-scourge campaign early the last time we went south.”
“Don’t be rude,” rebukes Viktor, already half-breathless. “He lost his familiar. I’d have done the same if Makka got killed in the action.”
Yuuri Katsuki, Hasetsu’s pride, slayer of the Great White Boar, is at this Harvest. Viktor had heard stories of how Katsuki had trapped the Boar into a cave and woven the strings of his enchanted koto across the entrance, slicing it when it tried to escape. All of them had invariably mentioned Katsuki’s untouchable beauty and icy aloofness, like the first gleam of a mountain snowcap at the crack of dawn.
They truly were not far from the mark. So many years have passed since the first Harvest they had spent together, and all this time Viktor has been hoping they would cross paths again. The years have been kind to Katsuki, filling him out from a gangly adolescent into this devastatingly icy beauty. If Viktor had been a lesser man, he’d have assumed he’d fallen prey to his own illusions.
Yura rolls his eyes. “Whatever. He’s old news, anyway. It’s not like he’s done anything cool since the stuff with the Boar. Just you wait, I’ll bag the most Fell Creatures this season.”
“You’re probably more likely to run screaming like a kid your first night in the wood,” teases Viktor, looking out towards the distant twisted shadows of the forest, where the souls of the victims of the Fell were trapped beneath its leaves.
“Shut up,” mutters Yura, though he undeniably shivers looking at the woods. “I’m almost sixteen. That’s how old you were when you captured the Firebird.”
Viktor sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Go dance, Yura,” he dismisses. Yura scowls.
This piece is now up on AO3!If you’re interested in seeing this piece in print alongside many other magical short stories, you can purchase leftovers at @yoimagiczine!
the full piece written for @yoimagiczine, you can also find it on ao3.
On the birth and lives of soulmates. Yuuri and Victor meet for the first time as children in times none of us can think back to; day and night, light and darkness, you’d think the meeting nothing special. Wrong. aka Yuuri and Victor invent the concept of soulmates and fill the night sky with their every touch.
(Once upon a time.)
Cold days like this one chill Yuuri to the bone; tea and blankets don’t provide enough warmth, chased away by the longing whistle of the wind and the clatter of tree branches shooing it away. The thin walls of his family’s tiny wooden house forget how to be a shelter on days like this. But despite this, despite the chill in his limbs and the mist of his breath, Yuuri looks forward to these days; only on days like these does the boyappear.
The unnamed boy; a boy with a lantern and a thick scarf around his neck, and a snowy avalanche of hair. The lost boy, or the searching boy, Yuuri has no idea who he is.
The wind promises another blizzard today, and Yuuri hopes that this time he’ll get to invite the boy inside. On cold days like this one, nobody will say no to a cup of hot tea.
The clock strikes 6pm, Yuuri presses his forehead against the cold window, squints his eyes and wishes he could urge the darkness outside to dissipate and clear out till he can see better—when the boy appears.
As always, he’s surrounded by a beam of cold, white light, as though he’s the moon itself, bathed in such celestial presence that he can’t be a mortal. Even mortals suffer from sadness, though, and the boy’s light seems dimmer tonight, his movements slower and not as excited as Yuuri knows them to be. His lantern flickers in the night among the snowflakes falling around him but he pays them not a single glance. From where Yuuri sits, they look like pellets or darts, so unforgiving in their shooting at the boy.
Normally, the boy dances whenever he appears; he doesn’t walk but rather flows just an inch or so above the ground, jumps into the air and turns and turns and turns and turns—but not today. Something’s off about him today.
Today, he shuffles his feet through the snow with each step. The lantern he usually holds in front of him at an arm’s length is nearly dragged behind now. His feet—Yuuri notices with a soft, disappointed ‘oh’—are firmly planted on the ground.
Suddenly, the boy freezes and turns—and looks straight at Yuuri.
I also designed a glittery pin for @yoimagiczine! There are still some available in the leftover sale, but I’m not sure for how much longer! Knew I had to use the duetto colors as a pop, no matter what the design ended up being–even better that one of them ended up as a glitter.
