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#Haikyuu kitsune
shoulmate · 6 months
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Okay, Inarizaki boys as Kitsune--yes, yes.
But what about SAKUSA KIYOOMI as a shapeshifting weasel. Ehhh? Ehhhhhhhh??
Like...You're younger, maybe 5? And you stop your dad from killing the weasel that just killed another one of your family's chickens? And your dad turns his anger on you because how can you defend the vermin that's destroying your family's food?!
But you run into the forest to escape your dad's fury and the little weasel with uncharacteristically dark fur comes out all shy, sniffing the air. You talk to it, more to yourself since it's, y'know, an animal... "Poor little guy, you're just hungry, aren't you?"
It doesn't come up to you but maybe sits nearby for a while before scurrying off when you try to pet it.
And then when you're a little older--let's say 8--you see another startlingly similar weasel and think it must be a baby of the one you saved before (spoiler: it's not). You're out feeding the chickens early in the morning and you see it sneaking up so you roll it an egg or two from the coup and toss it some chicken feed.
You see it a few more times that year and each time you roll it an egg or toss it some other food.
By the age of 10 the little guy is curious enough to come up to you and you notice the fringe of hair between it's ears is curly and restrain a squeal knowing the sharp noise will spook it but it still runs off because your mother shouts for you to come inside.
The next glimpse you catch of it is on your way home from school; it peeks it's black fury head up through the tall grass and you smile at it.
When a friend asks what you're looking at and you try to show them, it's gone.
Around the age of 12 you start doing your homework in the forest drawn in by it's sounds and atmosphere...much better than the overbearing and stifling demands of your family. There's something appealing about the forest, like you're not alone but in a comforting way.
You keep to this pattern, doing homework in the forest when you can--when the weather's appropriate, when your family's not demanding you to do chores--and the times you see the little weasel are few and far between
at first.
As the weeks turn into months turn into years the weasel--or all it's subsequent generations of matching black-and-curly furred babies--starts to sit with you eating the snacks you share, even letting you pet it.
By the time you're 16 it waits for you everyday. It lets you pick it up and hold it, even brings you small snacks--it learns your preferences.
As your 18th birthday approaches and your high school graduation looms on the horizon you're not sure what's going to happen.
How long do weasels live?
It feels silly to not go to college because of an animal that isn't even yours but still. Going away to a university feels...wrong.
So you enroll in the local college. Taking classes. Living at home. You're glad you did, too, because your parents get sick. First your father, then your mother when she tries to pick up his share of responsibilities around the farm and it's too much for her. You finish your second decade of life by dropping out of classes and trying to run a farm to support yourself and your dying parents.
Your mother passes first. Quickly. Painlessly.
As your father approaches the end he glares at you. "You cursed this house. All those years ago." And you know he means the weasel.
You don't wait at his side; you leave the house.
You go out the back door and feel drawn into the forest as you always have, maybe it's in later in the evening. The sun not yet setting but the forest is dim under long shadows.
You realize it's been a long time since you've been in here, even longer since you've sat down and spent time with your friend. Because you refuse to believe all those stupid superstitions about weasels being bad luck.
Your weasel wasn't.
As you sit in the darkening forest you wonder what's happened to the little guy. Is he still alive? Or whichever generation his family was on?
You cup your head in your hands, overwhelmed by everything that's happened and lost as to what to do next.
A small squeak makes your head pop up and you see the familiar face and cute little curls peek out of the ground cover. It approaches you cautiously, sniffing your hand before crawling up into your lap.
It looks at you with impossibly deep, perceptive eyes as if it can understand your sadness, your loss. Your pain.
That's the breaking point.
A cry rips from your chest and--though you expect it to be frightened off--you clutch the little critter against your chest, hugging it's slender body. It's soft and warm and lets you sob as you hold it.
You cry your heart out.
After your parents have been buried, when the house is officially yours you open the back door and invite the little guy inside.
He sniffs the air, cautiously stepping over the threshold before diligently inspecting each room.
Yes, you know he's a wild creature. And yes, you know the most he could ever do to help you if there was an emergency would be to claw someone's eye out but you sleep better when he's there. Curled up beside you on your bed. Sometimes sleeping right on your chest.
His warm weight is comforting.
You're not interested in dating. The farm's doing fine so you're content to work your family's fields and support yourself--and your little friend--for a while.
When you turn 25...when it's well-known by everyone in the countryside and nearest village that you live alone...someone breaks into your house.
You were just about to sit down for a late dinner after running errands in town when a menacing man, foul-smelling and unshaven, rips open your back door.
You scream but there's no one around to hear it, you try to run but you're too panicked and trip over yourself.
The attacker charges.
There's a feral snarl and a wave of heavy, earthen scent.
When your mind processes the sounds of fighting and absence of pain you look up from behind cowering eyes and see the intruder being chased out by a hulking--and nude--man.
His chest is heaving with stress when he slowly turns around. A scream builds in your chest but the sight of his impossibly deep, perceptive black eyes and the familiar black ringlets hanging over his forehead keep you from making any sound.
"Yo...Yo-Yokai--" you stammer but his hard voice cuts you off.
"Kiyoomi. I prefer...Kiyoomi." He crouches down in front of you and sniffs the air, a remarkably familiar motion that has your heart racing and your cheeks warming. "I can't smell you as clearly with this nose."
"E-Excuse me?" you splutter indignantly and clutch your clothes tighter to yourself as if you're the one who's indecently exposed.
"I was just checking." He shrugs and then turns back toward the table, the dinner waiting to be eaten. His expression becomes crestfallen. "This isn't going to be nearly enough now."
You hop to your feet, still indignant, and exclaim "well I wasn't planning on having a guest for dinner!"
He gives you a wicked, handsome look. "But I eat dinner with you every night."
You'll look back fondly on this first night with him in his human form, how easily you slipped into playful banter together. The way you only had one spare robe that fit him. How he fumbled around your home, his hands clumsy and unfamiliar, and needed help with almost everything.
And the way he climbed into your bed without hesitation.
The cock of his eyebrow was challenging, the unspoken point of 'I sleep here every night' hanging thick in the air until you climbed in bed next to him and had the best night of sleep ever and woke up in his arms.
It continues like this for a long time, broken by periods of time when he has to leave. He belongs to the forest...or maybe the forest belongs to him and he needs to care for it. Either way, you don't try to keep him when he goes. You let him leave, you miss him when he's gone but always feel a sense of security as if the forest itself is watching over you, your farm, in his absence. And then he returns. He always does.
You're content. More than content. You're in love. As time goes on you wonder how this could possibly play out. You wonder at what point he'll get bored or grow tired of you or you'll grow old but for now, you're content to enjoy it. Embrace it for what it is.
As you approach the end of your third decade Kiyoomi leaves
and doesn't come back.
You wait.
You listen.
But a year goes by--a full cycle of seasons--and there's been no sign of him.
More affected by this loss than any other you've experienced you try your best to muddle through. That maybe he'll return soon. Just one more day, you tell yourself. He'll be there the next day.
And then you see it.
A little pile of black fur on the side of the road.
You swerve, nearly leaping out of the car before it's in park, and run back to where you saw it.
You scrape your hands and knees as you fall to the ground next to the small heap. There's a dark-brown smear along the road leading to it; you turn and hurl your guts into the grass.
It starts to rain.
Crying, your tears mixing with raindrops, you tenderly unfurl the little creature and wail when you see the familiar black ringlets on his little head.
Forgetting about your car you cradle him against your chest and stumble into the grass, across the field--whoever's field it is--and into the woods.
It's dark. It's late. You have no idea where you are, where you're going...but you can't stop moving.
You feel like if you stop then it'll really be over.
He'll really be gone.
Weeping. Sobbing. You trip and fall through the forest scraping your legs, your hands. Nearly breaking an arm when you trip and only catch yourself with one arm the other always holding, always holding, never putting the furry little body down.
Shivering, soaked through, and utterly lost you sit down on a wet log--or is it a rock?--and cradle him.
Him.
Because he's really gone.
He hasn't moved or made a sound once the entire time he's been in your arms.
And he's cold.
So cold...
You're almost as cold as he is now.
The rain slows...you expect it to turn into a mist but you realize that the droplets haven't changed size
they've stopped moving.
Suspended in mid air, you're surrounded by raindrops; a different kind of shiver wracks your spine now.
The hair on the back of your neck stands on end and you clutch the black furry body to yourself, unnerved and on the edge of a panic attack.
Your breathing, quick and shallow, sends the closest raindrops swirling away like bubbles.
Near-hysteria you reach a tentative figure out and tap one; it swirls away, bouncing into a few others.
Though the raindrops are still there the clouds part. Moonlight shines down into the forest, a beam of it illuminates your weasel's black fur.
Something tugs at it's weight against your grasp. You clutch, unwilling to let it go.
At the same time all the raindrops start to float upwards; there's another tug at the little weasel.
Tears form at the corners of your eyes again as this time you don't hold him back. You let the pull lift him from your hands as if the little body weighs no more than a feather.
He and the raindrops ascend into the night sky, his black fur easily melding with the dark.
You hang your head in your hands, too empty to wonder anything about anything. The forest is as silent as you.
And then you hear your name.
Your head whips up and he's standing there, in the little clearing in a band of moonlight and robes as black as the night.
You sob and leap; he catches you, wraps you in his arms,
and never lets you go.
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waveoftheocean · 1 year
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10.07.22 hehe happy sakuatsu day!!!
(for a 48h skts day event on weibo!)
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kyuziipon · 7 months
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Magical boy kitsune tsukishima to go with the tanuki Yamaguchi I posted last night <33 I think he looks very pretty
ID: [a digital drawing of tsukishima kei from haikyuu, but portrayed as an anthro kitsune magical boy. He has five tails and yellow fur, and his hair is long and in a ponytail. His clothes are formal and traditional inspired with floating ribbons around him. A kitsune mask is on the side of his head, and has his hoshi no tama attached to his front.] /End ID
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picrewocs · 9 months
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Kit(a)sune
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Via Picrew
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tsumukono · 1 year
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He is protective jealous, but he loves me how i love him.
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obilixi · 8 months
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Sun Showers
“In the field of Kitsunes, lurks the one that you seek”
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cirquedelooney · 3 months
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sakuatsu: cut out my heart for you
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https://archiveofourown.org/works/49289707 kitsune atsumu & ronin kiyoomi reincarnation au in english
they say dreams are memories. memories of another life. and kiyoomi’s been plagued by nothing but the steel glint of a katana and golden eyes lined with red kohl staring back at him
(alternatively, this is sakuatsu's whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same)
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voidcat · 2 years
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666 !
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the moment ive been waiting for ever since i opened this blog asHdjffj<3
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Happy 666! I’m back with a mini event of drabbles, here are the rules, it'll be similar to my winter event:
give me a character a creature (could be mythical, specific or just smt basic like 'demon') and pick a number from 1 to 13 for a prompt! (For example: hello, can I get vampire Chuuya with number 7?)
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Numbers taken: 2, 3, 6, 9, 11, 13
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3 - oni, nakahara chuuya
6 – fallen angel, dazai osamu
9 – ghost, paul verlaine
11 – vampire, kaeya alberich
Status: incomplete 22.4.23
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luckyomne · 2 years
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I have spent way too long on this and I can’t deal with it anymore.
Kitsune!Atsumu is my current obsession, together with Haikyuu as a whole because how can I not
Also did a lot of testing, trying out a new art program as well, so ya’ know,
likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated :D thanks
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sabreelectra · 1 year
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“now you’ve got me feelin’ thrown” | T | 9k | Complete | AtsuHina Fantasy AU
Art by @sabreelectra
Fic and Concept by Rinnie (@CerinityKS on Twitter/Ao3 )
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rbelle310 · 1 year
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Sakuatsu AU Warning: Supernatural elements
Grandmother Miya passes away. She was a renowned Izuna-tsukai and now her kuda-gitsune, Omi, must select a new host.
Everyone thinks it will be one of the twins, but neither of them appear to exhibit the signs of a Kitsune-tsuki.
At least at first, but one day while out on a run, Osamu crosses paths with a stray dog and freaks out. He screams ferally and hissing and spitting in such a way that onlookers think he's gone absolutely mad.
The main family is thrilled, they were worried that the Izuna had moved on to a distant branch family member. Atsumu is relieved, he didn't want anything to do with all this superstitious fox-possession crap. But...
He's been having dreams from when they were children, of another little boy who used to play with them. A small pale boy in a kimono with dark and curly hair. He puts it down to grief, since obaa-chan hasn't been dead that long and he's been reminiscing too much.
The dreams go on for weeks and things start to take a skin crawling turn. His brother, now ensconced in the shrine occasionally goes into fits. He stares through the walls and screams at the main house, yowling like an animal fighting over territory.
Atsumu feels like he's being watched, all the time and not because of the Kitsune now latched on to Osamu. The sensation follows him when he's outside sweeping the yard, when he goes to school, when he's on a date.
It's worse on the date, and it ends so badly he knows she'll never call him again. He goes home dejected and frustrated. Just as he steps through the front gate, a tall shadow looms over him and shoves him against a pillar.
"What are you doing at a time like this?" growls a low voice in his ear.
"What the f-" Atsumu starts to curse, but it dies on his tongue as he sees an imposing man with curly black hair standing over him. "Who are you?"
The man frowns even deeper, his brows knitting together in a way that makes the two moles on his forehead wriggle.
"The question you should be asking is who is that?" he spits, pointing at the shrine.
"What... What do you mean?" asks Atsumu.
"I mean, who is sitting in my seat! Idiot!"
"It's Samu! Samu's the Izuna-tsukai now!"
There appears to be some sort of miscommunication because the two moles do another wiggling sort of dance before the man grabs Atsumu with surprising strength and drags him towards the shrine.
He yanks the *locked* door off its hinges and points at Osamu who's hunched up and keening between bared teeth. It's the first time Atsumu has seen his twin in weeks and he... looks wrong. Obaa-chan was never like this, she never seemed any different from a normal human.
Osamu looks positively wild, there are food stains on his hands and whatever clothes they tried to put on him have been torn off. The stranger growls, clicking his tongue as he approaches Atsumu's twin.
"Get out." he warns, but then flings out a hand pre-emptively to stop Atsumu from leaving. "Not you."
But Atsumu wasn't going anywhere, he's equal parts terrified and worried for his brother.
Osamu pants heavily, still staring defiantly up at the stranger as he approaches.
Inky black eyes meet feral grey.
Osamu is sweating profusely, but he bares his teeth in a lazy smile that doesn't match the wildness of his dilated pupils. When he finally speaks, to Atsumu's horror, it's with the voice of another stranger.
"I'm not going anywhere, Ki-yo-omi."
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hotarushka · 2 years
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Kitsune Oikawa
My gallery My twitter
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waveoftheocean · 2 years
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can't believe it's already almost the end of mermay but here's my last min offering 🤲
(this is my second giveaway prize, for @/emmiblart on ig! got very carried away with this piece haha)
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thecanadianweeb · 2 years
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Kita Shinsuke Christmas Moodboard + Aesthetic Playlist
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tsumukono · 1 year
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I Love my kita , the sweetest caring husband, that i need spoil love, love you my silly care for you more then you know.
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splitpush · 2 years
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natto-stuffed aburaage
ushiwaka's b-roll. 2 scenes during or after "plexus unraveling". lapslock / 600 words / rated r
1.
in the end, sakusa agreed to meet at the coffee shop.
he'd sounded ok on the phone. but sat now across the low table with a scalding cup of coffee pressed between his fingers, he looked like he 90 percent regretted it.
if it were anybody else, ushijima might've spared them both the anguish, and fronted some excuse to leave already. for example, there was a new meal prep recipe he found on the internet that he wanted to try. or maybe he still had practice, despite having just left the gym, and then barring his inability to lie about it for real, he would've headed back to the gym to tear up a cardio machine & waffle about the pendulum squat for another 20 minutes. his trainer would totally admonish him. you're overdoing it again, ushijima-senshu. no doubt it'll deal you a proper exercise injury one day. it was such a foreseeable thing, too.
but was that so bad. if arranging a sports injury manifested in an ex-boyfriend coming around to wait hand-and-foot on every spontaneous emotional whim that he had, then maybe ushijima welcomed it. what sort of injury could he suffer? maybe not anything career-ending, like a torn rotator cuff or a broken patella. he'd settle for a sprained joint. growing up ushijima's father had always praised himself for raising a son with very strong ligaments.
ushijima entertained the idea of spraining his elbow during his next match. was this what they called having an epiphany?
sakusa cleared his throat.
"i... maybe i should go."
which was a funny thing to say. the last time he had said that, they'd wound up in the backseat of ushijima's car, parked next to the wall in the south lot of the adlers' training facility. sakusa had worn the most exquisite expression on his face while one of his hands grasped at ushijima's hair, the other one working to stuff his moans back into his mouth as ushijima pressed his thighs deeper into the seat with every debilitating thrust of the hips.
sakusa's face flushed. likely his thoughts had similarly landed on that day, there or thereabouts. ushijima watched him bite his lip and say nothing. it was that kind of memory, after all.
for lack of breathing room in the space between them, ushijima stood up to order an espresso.
"how's the coffee here, is it any good?"
sakusa sipped his drink. his voice was rough. "it's nothing special."
2.
"you went to his house? to APOLOGIZE??" oikawa's voice boomed loudly over ushijima's speakerphone. "why the hell would you even DO that???"
"is there something wrong with what i did," said ushijima.
"is there something wrong with what i did," oikawa mocked him. "oh, i'm sure you're the FIRST person that miya atsumu wants to see. honest to god, ushiwaka, this is exactly why i broke up with you too."
ushijima frowned. "i thought we broke up because my penis was too small for you."
oikawa sputtered. a guffaw with matsukawa's issei's name written all over it broke out over his end of the line.
"obviously i was only-- you know what? forget it." oikawa sounded upset, genuinely. ushijima hadn't the faintest idea why. "seriously. why are you even calling me to talk about this? why are we even talking to each other. we stopped dating so long ago."
"you're the one who still wanted to be friends," ushijima reminded him.
"that's because i was trying to be the bigger person!" oikawa exclaimed, perhaps realizing at last how that was working out for him. the uncrinkled pride of it all.
*
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