Kanda’s nails bit into his palms as blood roared in his ears. No one infuriated him quite like this man, even now standing rigid and proud with rainwater dripping down his sharp features. His features softened for a split second, brows furrowed and the look in his eyes genuinely hurt before icing over again, although not quite as thoroughly as before.
“Forgive me,” he said, voice steady and sincere, “I shouldn’t have presumed.”
For a moment, he looked like he still wanted to lean forward and kiss him; for a moment, Kanda thought he would let him.
Kanda/Allen/Link - Sky High
There was a moment, just a tiny one, during training when Allen thought he had the upper hand. Then Kanda flipped and Allen’s head was trapped between his thighs, cheeks on fire and eyes wide.
“Focus, beansprout,” he growled, squeezing harder, and Allen had a fleeting thought that this wasn’t a bad way to go.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” Link accused from the sidelines.
“If it works,” he shot back with a smirk, looking impossibly smug when Link flushed too.
Link/Allen - Fake Dating
“Please, Allen,” he said, and Allen felt a thrill at hearing his first name for once instead of his last. “I can’t handle another blind date from my siblings.”
They must be driving him crazy, for Link to flat out admit it like that and put that begging tone in his voice.
“Of course, Link; you don’t have to keep convincing me.” The sudden, relieved smile that broke out on his face made his chest tighten and Allen smile in response.
Lavi/Kanda/Allen - The Mummy
Lavi opened his mouth to read the inscription, and Kanda slapped a hand over his mouth while Allen yanked the black book away from him.
“Did you not learn from last time?” Kanda snapped, both of them glaring at Lavi. He kept a straight face for a moment before he was laughing into Kanda’s hand, tears running from his eye and clutching his stomach.
“Your guys’ faces,” he choked out as Allen slapped him on the back of the head.
“Next time, I’m letting the mummy eat you,” Kanda grumbled.
and, last but not least, three valentines drabbles for my one and only beloved @lost-nari! i love you bby i know you’ve seen them before but I hope they will still continue to make you happy especially when you’re sick ;;; <3333
under the cut!
final fantasy xv // noctis x prompto // [G] Is that my sweater?
They got snowed in.
Unsurprising, seeing the weather in Insomnia got all kinds of crazy right before spring; it could be warm and sunny one day and literally /freezing/ the other. In tandem with university (or not-university, Prompto thinks with a grim face as he pulls the warm, soft sweater over his head) and all kinds of princely duties, it makes getting some time with Noct almost impossible.
This is why the snow is a blessing, even though a fifteen-minute trek between the burger chain he part-times at and the fancy lot of apartment buildings Noct lives in made him look like a very shivery and bizarrely lanky snowman.
Snowmans were good for the New Year, for gifts and hot chocolate, for time spent with family and friends; not for Lovers' day, when he put _extra_ care into styling his hair that new way he saw in a magazine last week and he was sure Noct was going to like (or at least not laugh at). Why did he bother getting all styled up for someone who literally never changed out of his gym pants if he could help it, Prompto still didn't understand; love (love!) makes you do all kinds of weird things.
And here he was, wet like an angry chocobo, hair flat against his cheeks, his new shirt discarded to dry and replaced by a sweater that was both too small (in the shoulders area) and too big (everywhere else) at once. Ugh, to think that half a year ago he and Noct could borrow each other's clothes at every possible opportunity.
Well, at least Gladio's training started to pay off, Prompto thought, squaring his shoulders under the soft black wool.
The last ruffle to his hair and he was good to go-- oh oh oh /no/, he backtracked, realizing that the gift he had for Noct was, by some awful joke of the Six, still at his workplace.
He went back to the living room, looking every ounce as sad and disappointed as he felt; it was supposed to be a _perfect_ day, his - Noct's! - first real Lovers', with gifts and food ordered in (the good kind, not Kenny's burgers), and, hopefully, a little more of something else later on in the evening. And the stupid snow - and Prompto himself - managed to completely ruin it.
A choked sound from around the couch rustled him out of the grim thoughts. Noct, who previously was lazing around under a blanket, now sat upright, his eyes a caleidoscope of emotions that Prompto couldn't quite decipher; he knew all of them, of course, saw them on Noct like nobody else, but combined... It was new, bizarre, but-- but not unpleasant.
"Is that my sweater?" Noct asks, a small, choked sound, and Prompto feels proud and unsure all at once; he borrowed the first thing he found on the dryer, not really bothering, but maybe he should have asked--
Oh. Noct is kissing him. It seems that, for some bizarre reason, he doesn't mind (of course he doesn't, a voice says in Prompto's head; you'd jump his bones the very moment you saw him in something of yours), and the lights in his storm blue eyes are as mischievous and playful as the smile Prompto feels creeping onto his face.
"Yeah," he manages to say, bumping his nose against Noct's. "That's your gift for today. Limited edition, one-of-a-kind, Lover's day special-- and you'd better unpack it very carefully," he grins and leans in for another kiss.
---------------
d gray man // allen x kanda x lavi // [G] snow scene
He's always loved winter.
It was winter when he met his father; it was winter, years after, when Cross took him in-- finally, it was winter when the war against the Noah was over.
And Allen, too, thinks he's like winter in those small moments; sometimes life still weighs over his too-young shoulders like a heavy, smoky night of the city - sometimes, in return, everything seems light and soft like the gentle mist of snow on a white winter morning.
February is still winter, even in much-warmer-than-England France, but it's close enough to spring to see the first buds of flowers, imported from the south for lovers to gift their ladies with on the 14th. Allen is no lady (he would be clearly offended!) but the custom seems nice. Nice enough that he hovers over one of the flower stands for a longer moment, letting the florist rattle on and on about what bouquet would be finest for a girl such a handsome gentleman fancies.
Allen listens and nods with a gentle smile; buys two and moves away with an elaborate bow in her direction, amused by how the girl blushes and chuckles. Then, he looks at the bouquets in his hands and blushes, too: why on Earth has he decided to do something such as this?
But, money well spent, it would do no good to let the flowers go to waste; he trots back to the Headquarters, head downcast, deep in thought on how to explain this. He passes Miranda on her way out and blushes even more when she grants him with a knowing smile: women in this organization know a lot, lot more than they're supposed to, he decides. Lena will be even worse when she gets a sniff of what's happening.
It starts snowing on his way to the cathedral; small, soft snowflakes falling all around, nothing dangerous yet - but Allen cradles the flowers closer to his chest, determined for them not to get too cold before he reaches home. Back inside, cheerful voices and the unmistakable mouth-watering scent of chocolate cake welcome him back home. He smiles a little more at that.
Home is still such a good word, in the end.
Kanda likes gardening, so giving him flowers wasn't all that mistaken, it turns out; his thin lips even manage to twist into something that might, somehow, resemble a smile. He wraps an arm around Allen's waist and pulls him into a short, but very promising kiss, then disappears to find a vase, leaving Allen dazed and with a very stupid grin on his face that will take several good moments to go away.
And there is still the second bouquet to deliver.
Lavi claps his hands excitedly as he coos and bends over the gift; clearly, he had never received a similar gift, but enjoys it all the same. The bouquet doesn't stay intact for long, though: it takes a quick moment, long nimble fingers working the stems with ease, and Allen sneezes as a large crown made of exotic flowers is placed atop his hair.
"Here! I like my flowers better that way," Lavi laughs, and Allen wears the wreath proudly for the rest of the day.
In the evening, curled up on a rug in Kanda's room - the remnants of chocolate cake and mulled wine somewhere between the tangle of their limbs - he runs his fingers slowly through Kanda's hair and closes his eyes in contentment as Lavi hums them both a song he'd heard on the street a day or two ago; his mind is soft, fuzzy and floaty, and yet, it keeps coming back to the words of the flower girl this morning.
His two lovers must really be lucky, if a fine gentleman such as himself fancies both of them, he muses with a playful smile.
-------------
bbc merlin // merlin x arthur // [G] You're unusually quiet today.
The first time Arthur sees Merlin's magic, the young prince is breathless.
It's just a spark of light over the fire they've set up in the woods; tiny, firefly-like sparks fluttering around until they join in the shape of a dragon: all possible colours, from cold blue, through a soft off-white, to warm crimson. They fly up, shatter, disappear just to let others take their place as the dragon moves around in easy circles.
It baffles him, how silly he was not to notice the signs before: the sheer luck with which Merlin escaped any and all danger, the countless times he saved the prince's life; the way every mundane task was finished in a timeframe where nobody would be able to finish it without any reasonable help, and yet, Merlin had the damned time to read his books despite all that.
The dragon flies up and Arthur flinches, until a soft chuckle reassures him that really, it's okay; the fire is real but it will not harm him. Merlin means no harm, is what he understands, and this thought puts him at ease - makes him feel, in a strange yet comfortable way, safe. There's something about Merlin - something about magic - that makes Arthur stop and think, moreso now than ever before; something that buzzes between them, saying /you were born from it, and so was I./
He doesn't dare deny it: he knows the story of his own birth and he can only guess Merlin's.
The dragon jumps onto his shoulder and nuzzles into the crook of his neck, giving a perfect imitation of a sneeze as the fine tuft of hair tucked behind Arthur's ear tickles its nose.
Arthur startles.
"Finally!" Merlin laughs, scooting up closer in hopes that the prince will, maybe, share the warmer blanket with him. "I was thinking that something happened; you're unusually quiet today."
Arthur just shakes his head. None of them mention the magic, or the dragon, or the warmth blossoming where their shoulders meet; the prince tilts his head a fraction just when the wizard looks up, and it takes one, two, three heartbeats before their lips touch: Arthur's still wary and confused, Merlin's curling into a smile.
Some things were familiar enough to assure him that nothing, in fact, is out of the ordinary.
[day 3] it takes three to tango [kanda/lavi/allen; pg13]
day 3 advent calendar drabble!
for: technically @lost-nari but unprompted; she asked me to convince her ot3 can be fun
fandom: d.gray-man
pairing: kanda yuu/lavi/allen walker (lavi-centric mostly)
remember i am still taking prompts!
It is spring of the following year when the Noah finally release him; broken, bruised and battered, they drop him right at the Headquarters' doorstep, without as much as a word.
It's Lenalee who opens the door; beautiful, caring, loving Lenalee and Lavi is surprised at himself that he still remembers her name, her face, the sound of her voice - and he would be grateful, had he the strength for it.
Lenalee gathers him up (what a comedy, he thinks; a lithe tiny girl all but carries him, a grown young man, in her arms - was she always this strong or is he just a pile of bones as he imagines he is?) and takes him to the hospital wing. She doesn't ask questions, no; it's the others who do, Komui and Chaozi and Miranda Lotto and oh, so many others, so many names he was supposed to remember and forget all at once and they blur into one - and then, he passes out again.
Someone, somewhere, asks about Bookman. Bookman is dead, but of course - or else, why wouldn't he be here?
In return, Lavi asks about Kanda. Kanda - gorgeous, wonderful, angry Kanda - who hasn't come to see him once; is he dead? Is he alive? Is he, simply, too busy to care?
General Kanda Yuu, he hears once, in hushed tones.
General Kanda Yuu is gone, off to find the renegade Allen Walker is what they tell him.
Yuu has ran away with Allen, is what he hears.
Allen Walker; of course, who wouldn't want to run away with Allen Walker, the wonder of a boy - young man now, probably? - who makes every heart melt with his soft smiles and polite words and helpful attitude.
Hell, Lavi himself would want to run away with Allen Walker.
So, run away he does; there is nothing to keep him with the Order anymore, with Bookman dead, Kanda gone and Allen hunted for a criminal. He leaves at night; doesn't even pack up his old belongings (whatever book he had read is stored in his memory; whatever clothes he wore are not of his anyway), just takes up the broken, rusty remnants of his Innocence hammer and slithers away.
On a train to Barcelona, his hammer disappears, turning into a small cube that liquifies in his touch; Lavi both laughs and cries, because /really/, how useless will it be now?
He drinks the liquid anyway.
It takes two months to locate them; in a small town in the south of Spain, and the mere sight takes his breath away, because he hasn't seen Yuu in so long and--
--and then, everything clicks into place.
Allen hugs him close; almost crushes him with that arm of his, crying and sobbing and yet so genuinely /happy/ that he's alive and well. Nobody had been happy he's alive and well before; the sensation is so, so alien to him, and he brushes it off with an easy smile and a handshake with Yuu (his fingers burn for hours after, even despite the gloves), and immediately, they fall back into the routine of being their own little group again.
Johnny goes home at the end of summer: four of them would be too much, he says, and when there are two people to deal with the eventual Fourteenth - two people more powerful than him, Johnny thinks, but doesn't say it out loud because those are his friends and the topics they usually avoid - so by September, it's only him, Allen and Yuu in a tiny room smelling of olives and dried tomatoes.
I missed you, he says once, looking at Kanda with an unreadable smile on his face.
No, /I/ missed you, retorts Allen with a smile of his own; a poker face so perfect Lavi's own dramatics are put to shame, then gets up without a word and kisses him so hard his lips bruise.
He's almost sure it would feel awkward; it would /be/ awkward, as much as unnatural, but weren't they always awkward, unnatural, and misfit? At night - when the curtains are drawn, Allen's lips are on his own again and Kanda - /Yuu/ - bites at the back of his neck, nothing seems awkward anymore. In fact, it's absolutely astounding.
They've never done this before, both of them admit afterwards; they tried, yes, to relieve the tension or to sort out any kind of new meaning their relationship could take and the feelings that gnawed away at their hearts, but something was always missing.
Lavi realizes it's been exactly the same with him and Yuu, back in the days of old. Something - someone - was always missing.
They fall into their own little routine pretty easily; they play cards in the evening, take walks the following morning, and once a week they get so drunk they take turns throwing up through the window.
Lavi sports an enormous grin on his face everytime their drinking escapades are being paid by a tab sent to the Headquarters for the name of General Yuu Kanda.
Serves the fuckers right, he thinks, then shrugs and orders another. And another.
They discover that each one of them is useful for something; when they're on the move again, it's Lavi who does the speaking - all of those languages he learnt come in handy for once - booking them train tickets in Hungarian, a small room at an inn up the forests of Norway or a dinner in a fancy restaurant somewhere in Vienna.
Kanda is useless when it comes to cooking, but he does the laundry without as much as a glare.
Allen does wonders in the kitchen (as he does in bed, Lavi thinks with a grin), and his juggling and clown tricks provide them the best cover while traveling; they're actors once, a wandering circus the other, sometimes they dress up as monks and other, as rich land owners going on a business trip.
The day Allen applies perfectly matched lipstick to Kanda's pale lips and lines Lavi's face with a brown stick to give him wrinkles worth of a man half a century old - parents traveling to the waters with a sick child, he explains - Lavi doubles over in laughter and smears half of the makeup with his hand by accident.
They hold hands, sometimes; they kiss, too - at times, it's only him and Yuu (whose lips are cold and taste of peppermint), him and Allen (honey-sweet and soft and plush as the warmest blanket on a winter night), or Allen and Yuu; and Lavi watches with a soft smile, because he /knows/ that even if they have each other, for misfits such as them, it takes three, not two to tango.
