A little Kuro & Konekomaru drabble from me? Ofc <3 They deserve some love!!
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Konekomaru couldn't stop staring at the antlers. They were fuzzy, they were colorful, and most of all--they were big. Big enough to fit the model on display, a fake plastic snowman with a perfectly round, giant head.
This really wasn't a common sight, so Konekomaru had a feeling that the store wasn't actually planning to sell any antlers of that size, but now that Konekomaru's eyes had been opened, all he could think about was how cute Kuro would look wearing something like that.
They had bought him antlers before, but only ones that they could fit into his small form. If Konekomaru could find some for his larger form to wear, he was absolutely sure he could die happy.
Maybe I could make some?
As Konekomaru contemplated how to best go about doing this, the cat sith in question ran off from the old boy's dorm in a huff, having grown tired of Rin ignoring him and Yukio nagging him. He headed into town in a fickle mood, twin tails flicking behind him. But if he had known of the fate that awaited him, perhaps he would have chosen to stay home after all.
He had wanted to seek out attention and entertainment--not become a dress-up doll, thank you very much.
They were having another one of those mornings. The moment Shirou realized that Rin wasn’t home—that he hadn’t come back home since last night—he’d dragged a long suffering hand down his face. Yukio could feel the weight of his worry as if it were his own. He’d been having a hard time falling asleep lately, knowing that he would be leaving his home of fifteen years behind—leaving Rin behind. And Rin certainly hadn’t been making it easier by staying out way past curfew. Over the past few months, Yukio had spent more nights than he could count lying on his bed wide-awake, waiting for the sound of his brother sneaking back in. It was near impossible to sleep easily in these conditions, but eventually, his exhaustion always got to him.
Despite that, the thought of not having to share rooms anymore with his brother gave him mixed feelings. He wanted to keep doing his part in watching over him, wanted to make sure he was alright with his own eyes, but at the same time, there was a sense of relief at the thought of being able to have some distance, even if it wouldn’t exactly give him peace of mind.
He would miss his food too. Yukio’s stomach gave a light growl as he finished helping set up the breakfast table. They had packed it to the brim, though that was a common sight given how many mouths they had to feed. Rin had done a lot of the prep work the night before, cutting up the vegetables that would be boiled in the soup this morning and cooking up a large portion of tamagoyaki that he’d neatly packed away in containers and stored in their industrial size fridge. The priests had taken care of the rest bright and early, from getting the rice cooker started, to grilling up enough fish for everyone to have a portion.
It was getting painfully nostalgic seeing everyone settle in at the table. The number of days where Yukio would get to enjoy a meal together with the rest of his family was drawing to a close. It was a thought that made him feel more anxious than not. Rin’s notable absence, of course, wasn’t making him feel any better.
“Hey, hey, what have I said about long faces during meal times?” Shirou placed down their kettle at the center of the table and then reached over to ruffle Yukio’s hair.
Yukio let out a noise of protest but his father didn’t let him escape easily.
“You’ve got more things to worry about right now than wondering when your brother’s going to wander back in,” Shirou said, as always spot on about the source of Yukio’s worries. “His stomach will be dragging him by the nose any time now, so just sit down and eat up! You’ll need that energy to finish packing up your things,” he added sagely.
The reassurance didn’t sufficiently make Yukio feel at ease, but he let out a sigh and relented, following his father’s advice as instructed.
“Right. Of course,” he said and took his seat at the table along with everyone else.
Some odd minutes later, after they had all finished filling their plates, the doorknob of the refectory’s front door gave a tell-tale jiggle. Rin let out a muffled curse as he realized Shirou had locked him out, and there was a clear pause of hesitation before he reluctantly rapped his knuckles against the door.
Everyone around the table exchanged a glance and when Shirou caught Yukio’s eye, he nodded towards the entrance.
Yukio pushed back his chair at once and went to let Rin in.
“I’m baaack!”
Rin attempted to put on the shameless front of pretending he hadn’t stayed out all night as he walked in, but he had always been an awful liar. He’d hardly bothered to clean up the scrapes he’d gained overnight and the way he was avoiding Yukio’s eyes only made him look guiltier.
Yukio held back a sigh. “Welcome back,” he said evenly. “Where have you been?”
Rin pointedly ignored the question. “I’m hungry. Is the food ready yet?” he asked instead.
Yukio pressed his lips together. “Yes, but…”
Not wanting to chance getting into a talk he didn’t want to get into, Rin made a beeline for the kitchen and Yukio let him, trailing after him. Everyone had continued to eat in Yukio’s absence and were pretending they hadn't been actively listening to them talk.
“Ah, hello Rin. Back at last, hm?” Shirou said, greeting Rin as evenly as Yukio had. The other priests echoed similar greetings as Rin shuffled into one of the empty seats. “I see you stayed out all night at the job center. How diligent of you,” he remarked airily.
Yukio eyed their father out of the corner of his eye, watching him stir around his soup idly.
“So,” Shirou continued in that too-casual voice, eyeing Rin in turn, “did you get a job?”
Yukio wasn’t surprised to see Rin struggling not to squirm.
“Umm… About that…” he stammered out as Yukio grabbed his brother's empty bowl and filled it with a hot serving of rice.
“You were just getting into fights again, weren’t you?” Yukio said, firmly setting down the bowl in front of his brother. “You’re injured.”
“What?!” Shirou was on his feet at once and Rin flinched well before their father proceeded to dole out suitable punishment for this transgression. “Rin! Why are you so hot-headed?! I’ve told you a million times to think before you resort to violence!”
A chopstick flew over the table and struck Rin right across the forehead.
“Ow!”
The chopstick was lost to the floor with a clatter. Yukio sighed and went to retrieve another one. Meanwhile, Rin gave Shirou one hell of a dirty glare.
“Tch. You’re one to talk!” he grumbled, rubbing the aching spot on his forehead.
Unrepentant, Shirou continued drilling in his lecture.
“Shame on you!” he said sternly as he settled back down with a huff. The rustling sound of him drawing out a paper from one of his cassock’s pockets was lost among the accompanying noises of everyone’s utensils clinking against their plates. The portable stove that had been dragged close to the table gave an equally distracting spluttering pop, only half drowned out by Yukio scooting his chair in once he sat back down.
“Here,” Shirou told Maruta as he handed the paper to him. “Pass this down to Rin!” he said, scowling fiercely.
“What’s this?” Rin eyed the note suspiciously.
“An acquaintance of mine runs a restaurant. He needs an apprentice,” Shirou explained, crossing his arms over his chest expectantly. “Interested? If you are, he’ll interview you.”
Yukio watched his brother’s jaw fall to the floor.
“R-Restaurant? Me? I c-can’t!” Rin protested, his voice coming out as little more than a squeak.
“And why not?” Shirou challenged, unmoved. “You’re good at cooking. It's perfect for you.”
Yukio nodded in support and tried to catch his brother’s eye to encourage him, but Rin was avoiding everyone’s gazes, glaring a hole into the kitchen table instead.
“There’s no way I can handle a respectable job like that,” he bit out, dragging each word out with vehemence. “Trust me. I’d know.”
“You little brat!!” The plates around the table rattled as Shirou slammed his hand on the surface. “Without any academic record, you can't be picky! As your guardian, it’s my responsibility to turn you into a fully functioning member of society! Don't you get it?! Someday you have to leave here and make it on your own!”
It was a tirade that Shirou had voiced more and more over the last couple of years, particularly since Rin began skipping classes and even more so after they had graduated from middle school.
But the only effect their father’s lectures seemed to have was to make Rin’s temper come to a boil. With a growl under his breath, Rin's face contorted with a scowl that mirrored Shirou’s.
“I get it already!!!”
The roar of his voice was startling enough on its own—and then a loud crash followed, one that made Yukio’s heart skip a beat and head turn.
The pot that had been on the portable stove had fallen off. Mushrooms, tofu and the small variety of vegetables they put to boil, all of it was pooling on the tiled floor.
“Yikes!”
“Oh no, the food…!”
“That gave me a scare.”
“Is everyone alright?”
One by one, the priests’ voices spoke over each other as they scrambled to deal with the mess. Yukio held himself still, glancing between Rin and Shirou.
There was a tension clouding their father’s posture, one that had Yukio’s own muscles tying into knots. That flash of heat had been unnatural. But while his brother remained oblivious to it, their father’s expression had become carefully blank, in the way it always did when he had something on his mind that he didn’t want to voice.
A familiar unease dropped like a weight in Yukio’s stomach. But here and now wasn’t the time to address it. (The right time was a frustratingly nebulous concept always past Yukio’s grasp.) And of course, with the uncanny timing that Yukio might even call divine intervention, Nagatomo chose this particular moment to step into the refectory to pull Shirou away from the table.
“Father Fujimoto? You have a visitor.”
“Ah. Yeah, one sec.” Shirou pushed back his chair. Whatever he’d been thinking about had been shelved for another time.
“Yukio. Take care of Rin when you’re all done here.”
The stern look he aimed at Rin before leaving said that they would be picking up the conversation later. Yukio wondered if he would have that same luck; it was doubtful.
“…Right. Will do,” he said, glancing at Rin who had slumped into his chair, disgruntled.
Igor met him in their early university years. His first round of midterms had been right around the corner, and he had a mountain load of homework to get through on top of that. The library had practically become his primary home given how little he left its vicinity.
It was while he had been carrying a small but heavy stack of reference books back to the table he had commandeered that someone slammed into him, hard. The books went flying in the air but Igor managed to remain upright thanks to the vice-like grip that suddenly wrapped around his upper arm.
“Crap. Sorry about that! Are you alright?”
The guy that bumped into him was around his height; probably around his age too. He was handsome, with kind eyes and an affable smile. His chestnut brown hair looked a little red under the glow of the overhead lights, but what caught Igor’s attention the most was the hint of an accent beneath his English that made Igor instantly curious about where the guy hailed from.
Now was hardly the time to dig into that sort of thing, however. Instead, he straightened up and pinned his assailant with a reproachful look.
“I’m fine. But you might not be if the librarians catch you running around here like that.”
The guy winced. He released Igor and started rubbing the back of his neck.
“Hahaha… yeah, that would be bad. Please don’t tell on me, will you?”
Igor hadn’t planned on it, having only warned the guy to prevent future incidents. He opened his mouth to dismiss the conversation, his mind already making the jump back to the hours of study that awaited him, but before he could say another word, he found himself being interrupted rather enthusiastically.
“Hey, look, how about I make it up to you?” the guy said with a grin bright enough to illuminate his entire face. In the course of that one sentence, he’d swooped up two of the books he caused Igor to drop and closed the distance between them as he placed them back into his hands.
“Let me buy you a drink. You look like you’ve been here for a while, and it never hurts to get a good cup of coffee in you before hitting the books some more, right?”
Having little experience in being steamrolled like this, Igor was stunned into silence for a couple of long seconds, and the guy responsible seemed to be aware of the effect he was having on him because a gleam of—curiosity, recognition, interest?—something flashed across his dark brown eyes that made Igor’s stomach flip flop.
But before he could process the fact that he was maybe, rather abruptly being hit on, an insistent buzzing sound cut through their conversation. The guy straightened up in realization and hurriedly reached into his pocket. Whatever was flashing across the screen of his phone made him grimace. With a deeply apologetic look, he disappeared from Igor’s sight in the same whirlwind pace that he had run into him.
“Nevermind. Sorry again! I’m actually late for something right now, but maybe a rain check, for next time?”
With that open, promising invitation hanging over them, the guy rushed off, not even remembering to leave behind his name.
Igor ended up shelving that meeting to the back of his mind until midterms were over. Then, finally ready to put his sleepless nights behind him, he gratefully accepted an invitation from his classmates to have a few drinks at a nearby bar. The indulgence was well-deserved and the crisp taste of a good cold beer as the relentless summer heat creeped in was a welcome treat.
Over the course of the evening, however, Igor’s classmates grew too inebriated for his liking. His idea of letting loose didn’t involve hitting the dance floor and he didn’t care for lingering in rowdy environments for long periods of time. So once he finished emptying his glass, he paid his tab and surreptitiously slipped out of the bar, ready to turn in for the night.
He ran into a familiar face on his way out.
“Whoa! Sorry. I’m a little tipsy…”
They collided right by the door, drawing a couple of eyes from the surrounding crowd that just as quickly became disinterested in them. But Igor’s stare definitely lingered, not just because he recognized the guy that had bumped into him (again) but because he recognized the tongue he was speaking in too. Japanese. For professional reasons, Igor had been studying the language over the last couple of years, but he didn’t think it would come in handy in a bar of all places.
“You again,” he answered back with careful intonation, taking in the deep flush on the guy’s face which indicated he was more than just a little tipsy. “I suppose you don’t need to be as careful outside of a library, but you might want to consider watching where you’re going a little more closely.”
The guy’s face grew even redder after hearing that comment. “Haha, you’re not wrong about that,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck all apologetic again.
He didn’t seem to register that Igor had responded back to him in his native language, which was not surprising all things considered.
“Are you here with anyone?” Igor asked, taking in the state of his dilated pupils and the slight sway of his body.
“Uh, kind of? But not really.”
“Hm. Have you called someone to pick you up?”
“The university dorms are close. It’s a short walk.”
It was. But Igor didn’t think he could let the guy risk it alone in good conscience.
“Would you like some company on the way back?”
The guy’s face lit up to an extent that made Igor feel distinctly embarrassed. Maybe he was a little tipsy himself. He attributed how easily he felt himself redden to the alcohol.
It was hardly what Igor expected their second meeting to be like, but at least he managed to get a name out of his companion this time.
“You’re a nice guy,” Seishiro said cheerily after they had left the bar. “I’m lucky I bumped into you,” he added with an appreciative grin. “It’s too bad I didn’t run into you earlier though. I could’ve bought you that drink.”
His wistful tone had Igor’s ears reddening.
“There is no need to go through the trouble. Though I would appreciate it if our next meeting didn’t involve bodily collision.”
<3333 ty for sending this! have a lil sheena, as a treat :3
A clap of thunder has Sheena shooting out of bed. Sweat drips down from her forehead, but she can hardly register the sensation, much less the deafening sound of her hitched breath, holding back a sob. Flashing across her eyes, all she can see is bodies crumbling to the floor. The scent of burnt flesh is unforgettable, inescapable. It imprints into every one of her senses and all she wants to do close her eyes and pretend it's all just a bad dream, but she can't--she can't. She is frozen, watching corpses pile up one after another because of her.
Because she has failed.
The guilt, the horror, the ghastly reality of it all, it swirls in her stomach until nausea sits on her tongue. Her shoulders are shaking, and then another jolt of thunder has jumping out of bed, tripping, yelping.
Light washes the darkness away from the room. A firm hand gently draws her back to the bed and then rubs soothing circles across her back.
"It's alright," Raine's steady voice says. "Try to calm down. Just breathe, in and out, slowly."
Another weight presses against Sheena's other side. Colette's golden hair rests across Sheena's arm like a weighted blanket as she hold her tight.
"We're here for you, Sheena," she says as Presea's soft footsteps approach.
The pink-haired girl reaches out, drawing Sheena's trembling hands into her own. A familiar chime rings out and tears slip past Sheena's eyes as a metal bell is pressed into her palm. She clutches it tightly and takes a steadying breath, drawing strength from them all.
Corrine is gone, and the weight of Sheena's mistakes can't be washed away by the pouring rain drumming insistently over the roof above them, but Sheena is not alone. That will have to be enough.
For u... A lil Sincerely peek... <3 We love a defensive bf in this house:
“You haven’t exactly explained yet what the plan is,” Ryuuji reminded him with a severe frown. “You never do—and while I’ve followed you out of my own volition so far without a problem, I don’t want to leave Rin out when he can help out too! Wouldn’t it be better to have someone around that can sense if we’re about to run into some dangerous demon?”
jay and i are still in full phantom thief mode pls melt alongside us ;D
"You shouldn't say things you don't mean, yanno," Renzou chided softly, staring down at the pale mask that was somehow still firmly in place. His eyes focused on the rosy-pink lips which he so desperately wanted to kiss some more. "If you're going to steal me, then do it. I want you to," he told the thief in what might as well be a demand.
omg first of all sorry I took so long, tumblr just decided not to tell me I had gotten asks lmao. but ty for sending this! <3 <3
3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?
This one was tough! I have to say it's between these two though. I love that @yukiokumura and I got struck with the idea to write a fic centered around Lewin and Neuhaus falling in love. The way Redacted came to life just...! I'm completely obsessed with this ship now and how this turned out!
I also really enjoyed writing Just Desserts which is a short little drabble about demoneater!yukio. I was really happy with the word choices in several sentences and how the whole idea tied together.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?
It always surprises me looking back how much I actually end up writing in a year. Posted way more one shots than I expected! After giving them a quick readthrough, I am still smiling so fondly about A Hot Summer Day.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
“The weather today really is brutal,” she murmured.
“It is, isn’t it?” Tatsuma hummed in agreement. And then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he turned towards her and sprayed her lightly with the hose in his hand.
“Wha- Tatsuma-san!” she protested at once, drawing back a bit to protect herself from the water.
"Shhh, you'll wake him up," Tatsuma said, grinning as he nodded towards the prone figure on the floor, just a few feet away from her.
Rin had dozed off a while ago while waiting for Ryuuji to return. He was lying face down across the wooden floor, using his arms as a pillow, while Kuro rested on his back, all stretched out. The cat sith had loyally stayed glued to his side despite the heat and was just as deeply asleep.
"I'll wake him?" Torako gave her husband a look that was meant to be incensed, but the cool water had done its job. The droplets trickled pleasantly down her heated skin—though they dried up much too quickly.
Tatsuma gave her a knowing look. He knew his wife would not ask him to do it again—it wasn’t exactly proper. But their relationship was one that had succeeded this far on many unspoken agreements. So without hesitance, he turned his hose on her again and delighted in the way she spluttered with outrage.
me, answering this an eternity later, thank you for being patient with me <3
🔪 knife against the throat
🤎 royal x commoner
💘 love at first sight
This is going to be a two part fic, with a premise of YukiShima, and part two being all about BonRin <3 Hope you enjoy!
Part One (You are Here) - Part Two (Pending)
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Title: At Knife’s Edge
Ryuuji had a bad habit of being impulsive. They all knew this and yet none of them had expected him to run off the way he did. After all, Ryuuji wasn’t exactly known for his subtlety, but even so, he somehow managed to sneak off, leaving only a note in his absence.
I’m gonna get us the leverage we need to negotiate.
That was all the note had said but it was enough for them to realize what exactly Ryuuji had planned to do.
“That idiot!” Renzou let out a groan, smacking the heel of his palm against the top of his forehead. “How the hell does he think he’s going to manage to pull this off?”
“He wouldn’t… He wouldn’t, right?” Konekomaru looked half between panic and denial. He rushed towards the window and took a peek outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ryuuji in the darkened streets, but Renzou knew the effort would be fruitless. Ryuuji had gotten a headstart on them. They hadn’t seen him in the last hour.
“Ugh. Look, I’m gonna go after him. I have the best chance of getting to him without getting caught. But please prepare a backup plan—who knows what sort of situation I’m walking into here?!”
Konekomaru winced sympathetically. Though he was normally one to tell Renzou to tone down the dramatics, this time he was inclined to agree with his complaints; this hadn’t been Ryuuji’s brightest idea. “I will,” he assured him, looking worried. “Just be careful, okay?”
They shared one last commiserating glance before Renzou took his leave.
Sneaking into the castle of literal demons should have been impossible for a human like him, but Renzou was nothing if not resourceful. Plus, though this wasn’t exactly common knowledge to anyone, even amongst his friends, his family wasn’t actually pure blooded, and he had actually inherited some powers that came in handy in situations like this. Knocking people out soundly with just a touch was a neat little trick he had under his sleeve in case of emergencies, but only in case of emergencies. The ability took a lot out of him so he tried not to become overdependent on it. In any case, he was confident in his stealth skills, and that was enough to get him past the guards and into the castle.
But the fact that there was no evidence of a break in already, no commotion of sorts left in his wake, told him that Ryuuji had somehow managed to sneak in just as easily as well. It was a hell of a surprise, but then again, when Ryuuji was determined to do something, he managed—Renzou would give him that at least.
Still, a part of him couldn’t help but to wish Ryuuji had gotten caught early on. It would’ve been faster to track him down and steal him away that way. He would’ve much rather used his silver tongue to make the whole situation just seem like a silly misunderstanding. Now Renzou had to put in some effort to find him.
The only silver lining to that was that Renzou knew his friend well. From the moment he’d read the word leverage instead of rescue, he’d known just as well as Konekomaru had that Ryuuji wasn’t planning to sneak into the heavily guarded dungeon to get Shura back—instead, he was planning to trade a hostage for a hostage, which meant he was on a mission to kidnap someone that would be worth the hassle in the first place.
Idiot. If he had thought this through properly—if they hadn’t already had something like this in the works—if he had at least confided in them—
Well, there was no point in thinking about it too much. Renzou shoved down the disgruntledness he felt towards Ryuuji, Shura and their society as a whole in the first place. The tensions between their races were what they were, and so was Shura’s disposition. While she was one of their strongest advocates in their rebellion against the demon aristocracy, she tended to get careless after she’d had a few drinks, which is what had landed her in the situation she was currently in in the first place. Renzou understood why Ryuuji was going through the trouble of getting her back. But in his opinion, she of all people was more than capable of getting out of jail herself.
In fact…
“I don’t think I can take another shift down there.” The groan that followed that statement came from a nearby pair of guards walking down an otherwise quiet hall. Renzou quickly took a few steps back and pressed himself against the corner he had just turned, remaining out of sight.
“That woman is a menace. They should hurry up and either execute her or let her go before she drives us all insane.”
The second guard gave a shudder.
“You weren’t there when she charged at us last night. She knocked out more than a dozen of us before we were able to bring her in—and she’d been drunk then! It’ll be up to the Captain to deal with her unless we want to risk our necks.”
Renzou held back a snort. That was Shura alright. Well, it was nice to get confirmation that she was still alive—and an explanation as to why security seemed so light.
“When’s the Captain getting back anyway?”
The guard’s voices were beginning to dim as they went up a nearby set of stairs. Renzou wondered if he should follow them. But just as he was contemplating whether gathering some more intel was worth delaying his primary objective, he suddenly felt a presence behind him and before he could even think to react, there was a blade against his throat. He went rigid at once, though his mind continued to spin as he tried to figure out how to best get out of his current predicament.
“And who are you?” The sharp words were delivered quietly against his ear.
Renzou carefully peered out of the corner of his eye, trying to get a glimpse of who had managed to sneak up on him. From his current position, all he could really make out were strands of dark brown hair and a single green eye hiding behind a frame of glasses.
“Normally, it’s polite to give your name when asking for somebody else’s,” he said in a steady voice.
He received a narrowed look for that. “You’re not exactly at liberty to make demands,” his captor pointed out in a cold, unimpressed voice.
“Aren’t I?”
Renzou had more than just his emergency ace up his sleeve; he had a knife of his own hidden up there as well. And as he kept the other’s gaze locked on his own, Renzou had carefully positioned the tip of his blade against his opponent’s torso.
“It looks like I do have the upper hand, don’t you think?”
It was satisfying to see the realization trickle in. The green eyes took a darting look at Renzou’s knife before narrowing in frustration. Renzou pressed on glibly, outlining the situation clearly just in case the other was slow on the uptake.
“Stab me, and I’ll stab you. Scream for help and I’ll stab you. Sure, you’ll get me back, but I can’t say I care much about whether or not I die. How about you?” he said pleasantly, angling a smile at the other from the position he was in. “I have a pretty good feeling you’re not part of the guards, hmm? Else you would’ve knocked me out properly when you had the chance. So who are you then?” Renzou asked, all too happy to flip the question around.
By the initial lack of response, he knew he’d struck the mark. And sure enough, he felt the blade against his throat falter.
It’s just my luck that I ran into a nosy little noble hoping to get some excitement in his life, he thought, barely holding himself back from rolling his eyes. A proud one too, because the guy didn’t let go of him at once.
“Turn around.”
Renzou’s eyebrows shot up at the demand.
“Slowly,” the guy stressed.
Did he seriously not realize that he was giving away his advantage here? Or was he just hoping Renzou would slip up? Honestly, it was a little embarrassing that this guy had managed to catch him off guard.
Still, he complied. It was tricky to maintain his weapon in place as he did, not to mention avoid getting himself sliced open, but Renzou managed. However, the moment that he finished facing the other, Renzou’s mouth dropped open a little.
“Wow.” The word escaped his lips unbidden.
“What,” the guy said, looking at him with suspicion.
Renzou had not expected to be struck dumb by how attractive this guy was. Was this why he’d been asked to turn around? There had to be some sort of demonic magic in place here because this guy was hitting all of Renzou’s weak points. Dark, impossibly long lashes. Moles. And dear lord, he was just the right amount of tall.
“You’re… gorgeous.”
In the face of that statement, the cute demon guy only spluttered. His face slowly turned a shade of pink that only made him more attractive. Renzou felt dangerously taken in, though he managed to keep enough of his senses to acknowledge that the effect the other had on him did not seem to be intentional.
“Bad time?” Renzou asked, smirking a bit in an attempt to regain his composure. He received a sharp glare in return.
“A little!” the guy hissed.
He seemed flattered enough though. Well, Renzou was cognizant of his own charm points, so he blinked slowly at him and gave him a sweet smile.
“Well, perhaps we’ll find a better time in the future. Shall we agree to let each other go? I don’t want to cause trouble. I just came by to pick up a stray of mine.”
“A stray,” the other repeated flatly. And he seemed glad for the absurdity of Renzou’s statement because he was able to reel back how flustered he’d become.
Renzou gave a very light shrug, cognizant of the blade that was still lightly pressed against his throat. “Give me a head start and I’ll tell you why I’m really here,” he offered.
If there was one thing that he appreciated about demonkind was that they were true to their word once you offered them a deal. You just had to be careful with your words, so Renzou was quick to add in a timeframe to avoid screwing himself over.
“Ten minutes oughta do.”
“Five.”
“I’ll take it.”
“Fine.”
Renzou's smile widened as the sharp blade was finally withdrawn from his neck. He was polite enough to give this guy the same courtesy as he upheld his end of the deal. “My idiot friend got a little concerned when he heard about your most recent prisoner. You might’ve heard of her. Bit of a drunk, feisty temper? So I came to pick him up before he causes any real trouble.”
There wasn’t a need to give out all the details, so he kept ‘attempted kidnapping’ off of Ryuuji’s list of crimes and hoped that wasn’t just wishful thinking. Mostly because that sounded like a lot of extra work to not look forward to.
Still, that was enough to earn him a grimace anyway.
“Ugh, are you kidding me?” The guy scrunched up his nose, a gesture that looked rather cute on his face. “That woman is a nuisance. At this point, we’d be glad to be rid of her,” he grumbled.
At that, Renzou immediately perked up. (All while internally laughing, because yeah Shura really did have that effect.) “What, really?”
The guy scowled this time. “No. Just… go and get your other friend already. You have five minutes and not a moment longer!”
And thus, the clock began to tick. Renzou knew better than to stick around and test his luck. He flashed the guy a smile before hurrying off.
“Thanks, cutie!” he threw over his shoulder.
“M-My name is Yukio!”
Renzou stumbled. He glanced back, the shock stark across his face. Surely not… “Prince Yukio??”
Yukio only looked away.
Wide-eyed and speechless, Renzou lost a few seconds as he stood there processing that before he remembered he couldn’t afford the delay. Well, damn. I mean, I didn’t think I’d have much of a chance in the first place but…
The way Yukio’s face had turned pink all the way to the tip of his pointy ears was an image that was hard to dislodge. And he couldn’t quite stop thinking about it as he chased after Ryuuji.
(Perhaps he wouldn't scold him so badly after all.)
