#vrainsrarepairweeks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

merryfortune · 4 years

Text

Day 3: Rebirth, New Beginnings

Compendium Game Route 2019 for @vrainsrarepairweeks

Ship: Aoi/Blue Angel

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,736

Tags: Post Canon, Canon Compliant, Selfcest, Out of Character, Fluff Tinged With Angst

Aoi wrestled with her sheets as she came to in the morning. As she awoke, she got the feeling that she had woken up slightly earlier than usual on a Sunday morning, the one morning she could guarantee a sleep in, however, little as her brother liked to have her up well before her internal clock would have her up. But something else was off, aside from her circadian rhythms.

The morning was warm but unusually so. It was still early spring, barely bordering on the middle of it ergo edging towards summer. Just two nights ago, it had been freezing, even in the morning and now, it was absurdly warm. Aoi rolled over and that little niggling feeling inside of her became a full-on sensation of something being certainly wrong. She tried to move but something go caught on the light pyjamas that she wore.

It wasn’t her sheets. It wasn’t any of her pillows. It wasn’t the Evilswarm Mandragora that she still cuddled with all these years later, either. It was something else entirely. It was an arm.

Aoi’s blood ran cold and colder still when the arm phased through her.

She scrambled out of her bed, taking her comfy blanket and Mandragora doll with her. She held onto them, frantic, as she looked over her bed. She had company. Impossible company because not only did Aoi go to sleep last night alone, the person who had wound up in her bed was not someone who existed. Not like this anyway. All blue, wavy hair and wings on her back.

“What... is going on?” Aoi asked, voice hoarse. “Who are you?”

Cutely, the not quite stranger in Aoi’s bed roused herself from sleep. She yawned kittenishly and pawed at her face before looking up at Aoi with adorably offended, ultramarine eyes. They watered and her lower lip quivered; even her detached, white wings which slowly unfurled and fluttered. As meticulous as her movements were, in creating the image of someone bubble-gum pop perfect, there was a veneer to her. Creases in her night gown which glitched in and out of existence, the way her hair cut through what should have been the flesh of her body.

With a snap of her fingers, this person, this figment, this whatever she was, she prettied herself up as though through some technological magic. Her hair was split apart and yanked back and looped until it was in perfect heart shaped buns and then pulled into twin pigtails. She traded her satiny nightgown like look for something more preppy and suitable for the daytime; a sleeveless white blouse, blue tie, and a hoop skirt which shimmered at the fluffy hems as she moved over the bed. She knelt there, looking up at Aoi, slightly rejected but rather pleadingly.

As much as Aoi wanted to deny what she was seeing before her eyes, it was undeniable. Blue Angel, her Blue Angel, had somehow come to life.

“I’m you, silly.” She giggled and then put a perfectly manicured finger on her chin. “Hm, I guess not. After all, you’re you and I’m... not you? But I am you. I was you.” She hiccupped and her eyes watered.

She looked pathetic but not in the way that Aoi remembered being pathetic when she was Blue Angel. Pathetic in a way which was real. All torn feathers and broken hearts, beaten into the dirt, screaming and ugly crying, put to sleep, and so on and so forth. This was something far more manufactured, but this Blue Angel lacked the mark of the manufactured. She lacked a cyan notch on her neck; not that Aoi, or her brother, for that matter, trusted SOLtiS bots enough after the debacle with Ai, to have one around which might somehow, miraculously, absorb the likeness and personality of her original Link VRAINS avatar.

Aoi hesitantly returned to her bed. She placed her hand close to the one which was keeping Blue Angel propped up as she was. With a trembling heart, Aoi wiped tears from Blue Angel’s eyes. Her skin felt like cheap polyester from the sewing shops that Aoi had wandered in and out of a few times whilst at the mall. It wasn’t bad but it was a little disconcerting, but Blue Angel was comforted by the act, even if it was ultimately in vain as Aoi blankly poked at the edge of her eyes.

“How are you real?”

“Angel dust and other magic.”

Aoi snickered. “That’s a drug.”

“You know what I mean!” Blue Angel defended herself, her shoulders perking up as her cheeks turned red.

“Magic, basically.”

“Yeah...”

An awkward pause lingered between them and Aoi’s lips felt dry. Blue Angel prettily, daintily, waited for something to be said; she didn’t seem to want to take the iniative, being girlishly evasive. Aoi swallowed a lump in her throat.

“Can I ask you a question, Blue Angel?”

“Of course.” Then, with a wink, Blue Angel added: “So long as it’s in reason, you know me. I like to keep things a secret. Identities, motivation, all my different tricks.”

“Why are you here?” Aoi asked.

Having met Aqua, having fought Ai, having participated in the Ignis Warfare, Aoi knew that there was a world of things so scientific that they became magic that she didn’t understand. She was modestly certain that the Blue Angel before her was some manifestation of that. Having lost to Bohman, having lost to Ai, Aoi was terrified that things would come in threes and the Blue Angel that she saw before her was an ill omen in white winged disguise.

“Because I love you.” Blue Angel replied with a beam. “So where else would I be, of course, silly?”

Aoi’s heart fluttered. Her ears pricked up. “You do?”

“I do.”

Blue Angel leaned in and their foreheads bumped together. Their noses brushed up against one another. Whatever it was which allowed Blue Angel to be in this world was soft. She placed a hand on the left side of Aoi’s face.

“I truly, truly do. True as blue.”

“I’m glad.” Aoi smiled a watery smile in reply.

Blue Angel frowned. Pouted, really. “But you abandoned me.” Her voice became a high strung, high pitched whine. She flung her arms back and bear hugged Aoi, sobbing. “You abandoned me.”

“I... did?” Aoi murmured.

Clutching onto her, Blue Angel looked up from Aoi’s breast. “You did.”

“I’m sorry.” Aoi murmured as she tentatively rubbed Blue Angel’s back, navigating her floating wings and emotions in general. “I didn’t mean to abandon you.”

“I know.” Blue Angel’s fingers dug in, clutching onto fabric, pinching Aoi’s skin beneath. “I know. All girls grow up. You got what you wanted by taking new chances, getting involved with all sorts of horrid affairs, was it worth it?”

“I think so.” Aoi mumbled.

She wasn’t sure. She could look at parts of her life with conviction; her becoming Blue Angel, her becoming Blue Girl, her becoming Blue Maiden. But there were other parts of her life which made her feel helpless, hopeless. Not realising Playmaker and Soulburner had been sitting in the back row of her own classroom all this time; not winning when it truly counted. It was enfeebling. She couldn’t do anything when her brother had sunken into that comatose state; nothing except watch.

Blue Angel snuggled against her. “I’m glad.” Aoi flinched. “No matter where you go or how you grow, I’ll always love you, Aoi. I have loved you most since you were a child and I will love you forevermore, my angelic promise to you.”

Aoi blushed. Blue Angel’s words were dulcet and like much of her persona, theatrical but not insincere. Aoi’s heart pounded in her chest. Feeling emboldened by such soft touches and sweet words, she angled her head down towards Blue Angel and she understood; perhaps intuitively, perhaps because she was some entity so intimately intertwined unto Aoi as she was, but she knew. She took the silent permission and kissed Aoi’s lips.

Blue Angel’s lips were such sweet serenity to kiss. Aoi felt all her doubts and helplessness which stirred in her chest quell as Blue Angel sighed into the kiss. It was slow and tender, making a melting moment out of the succulent fabric which Blue Angel existed beneath the veneer of; neither flesh nor silicon, like the faces of uncanny androids.

And it was such bitterness to end that kiss. Blue Angel didn’t need to breathe but Aoi did. She had to break off such a lovely kiss after what had felt like an eternity. She reared back and there was a delightful blush in Blue Angel’s cheeks.

“How was it?”

“Amazing.” Aoi replied, breathless but evening out. “Its not conceited to say that, is it? You’re, like, a really good kisser.”

Blue Angel giggled impishly and Aoi was hit from every angle regarding just what bliss that she had woken up this morning into. The sunlight from the early morning outside was gently warm. Somewhere, birds chirped to a more chipper tune than the general hustle and bustle of city life. It was nice. Contenting.

Aoi took a small breath and continued to look over Blue Angel. She couldn’t help but drink in the sight of seeing her childish style brought to genuine life like this. It was both embarrassing and heart-warming. Though, it raised a few questions which made her stomach turn.

Was this how she saw herself? Or was this how Blue Angel saw herself? Or, more concerningly, was this how her fans saw Blue Angel? The very one which was retired. Aoi shuddered as she overcomplicated this weirdly simple situation.

Blue Angel was real. Real enough to be interacted with. And that seemed to be all there was too it. Well, maybe she wanted somewhere to stay. Aoi’s brow furrowed. Well, maybe she needed somewhere to stay. After all, it wouldn’t be good for someone like Blue Angel, whatever she was, to be walking around. No matter, Aoi was quite certain that she wanted Blue Angel all to herself. She was still a selfish child like that, no matter how grown up she had become since her creation.

For now, she would merely incite a few more kisses, a few more exchanges of sweet words. Anything else, anything practical-minded could come later. All Aoi wanted was to indulge herself and, well, herself.

#writing tag #bluestshipping #vrainsrarepairweeks #vrainsrarepairweeks2019 #yugioh vrains #vrains #yugioh #aoi zaizen #zaizen aoi #blue angel (vrains)#selfcest #femslash

7 notes · View notes

kuriboo · 4 years

Text

Vrains Rarepair Event 2019 - Day 6

Fresh Air, Freedom, Overwhelmed

The Vrains Rarepair Event is being run this year by @vrainsrarepairweeks ! You can find the list of prompts over here! Also posting over at AO3

⁂

Once upon a time, there were two little kids who met in a park. Two girls, one named Miyu and one named Skye.

Skye and her brother used to move around a lot, so Skye stuck to herself, not playing much and not trying to make any friends. It felt easier that way when she would have to leave again, if she had no one to say goodbye to. Skye and her brother didn’t want to move around so much, and Skye knew it wasn’t her brother’s fault and never blamed him. She pretended it didn’t bother her at all. But deep down, whether she made and lost friends or avoided friends at all, Skye was very lonely.

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful blue angel named Blue Angel. Blue Angel fought lots of monsters. She fought against them alone and acted like she didn’t need anyone else. But secretly, when alone, Blue Angel would cry blue tears because she was lonely.

When Miyu first saw Skye, the first thing she noticed was how Skye was alone, not trying to have fun. It seemed very lonely and sad to be that way. So Miyu ran straight towards her and pulled Skye into her own playtime.

And every day after that, the two of them always played together.

One day, Blue Angel was attacked by a large group of monsters. It was too much for her to handle alone. But the other angels quickly came to help her fight back. Blue Angel was surprised, since she often had been mean to them before.

Skye had thought it was better to push other people away because soon they would disappear from her life forever. But becoming friends with Miyu gave Skye some of the happiest days she’d had in what felt like a long time. Around Miyu, the void that usually threatened to swallow Skye whole disappeared. Any single day Skye got to spend with Miyu proved it wasn’t truly better to be alone.

But together, the group of angels won the fight. Fighting with the others taught Blue Angel about being a good friend and a kind person. She started acting nicer to others and became friends with the other angels, often fighting alongside them.

And from then on, once in awhile, if Skye noticed someone by themself, who seemed to be lonely and sad, she thought about what Miyu would do, and she tried to help, even if it was only a little.

And when Blue Angel fought any monsters after that, she would cry blue tears.

⁂

When Skye lied to Miyu’s mother to prevent Miyu from getting in trouble, it was incredible brave and kind of Skye to take the downfall. It was also the first act of defiance Miyu had ever taken any part in, even if it was just going along with it.

Miyu liked to very openly be herself. If she wanted to do something, she often just did it. She let herself be loud and energetic and enjoy life because living that way was fun, and that’s who she wanted to be. But she was also pushed into a box of obedience she didn’t know how to find her way out of. Even questioning her parents wasn’t really an option.

Skye, in contrast, was very quiet. She naturally kept to herself. Miyu wasn’t sure if that was natural to her or not. But Skye was also rebellious, and Miyu would come to learn that with time, Skye only became more rebellious as she grew older. She rebelled for herself, for her friends, for the important things in life. And Skye had openly admired much about Miyu for a long time, but Miyu had admired Skye’s rebelliousness, too.

It wasn’t something Miyu was sure she had in her.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like her home or her parents, but being home, being around them all the time... Miyu found it overwhelming. Staying there too long made her start to feel isolated and trapped, and those feelings started to bring back painful memories. It was hard.

Akira had told her she was welcome over at his home anytime.

Skye repeated the invitation often; she was always more than happy to have Miyu over. And as Miyu started to open up to Skye more, Skye did her best to understand, and she insisted on it.

The more time went on, the more Miyu wanted to take them up on it. It was harder to feel overwhelmed around friends.

Miyu and Skye had each taught each other to fly past their limitations into freedom once. They could do it again. Miyu was determined to soar and feel free.

#vrainsrarepairs2019 #vrainsrarepairweeks #zinniashipping #yugioh vrains #tater writes #tater.txt #i didn't realize my posts for like the whole week weren't tagged omg....#tumblr lied to me.......i thought they were tagged this whole time....and they weren't!#at least i fixed the last post lmao

3 notes · View notes

clarieleven · 5 years

Text

Day 2 / Dec 24 Horror stories

My Entrustshipping contribution 👌

#yugioh #vrains #vrainsrarepairweeks #takeru homura #kiku kamishirakawa #Entrustshipping

74 notes · View notes

almafoxen · 5 years

Photo

VRAINS Rarepair Weeks - Day 3 || Christmas / Valentines Day and/or White Day || My piece for @vrainsrarepairweeks! Merry Christmas <3

#yugioh vrains #vrains #vrainsrarepairweeks #pathwayshipping #emma bessho #ema bessho #shoichi kusanagi #YGO fan art #vrains challenge #my art #fan art

52 notes · View notes

cheeseflavouredcake · 5 years

Text

Pairing: Safeshipping

Prompt: Domestic

I personally can’t think about this ship without thinking about Akira, Shoichi, Aoi and Jin being a sort-of-family lol. *Slides VRAINS staff $20 note* Let Jin be happy please

#vrainsrarepairweeks #safeshipping #vrains #Tagging and posting is making me nervous lol #also sorry the drawing looks so rough haha

33 notes · View notes

radraptors · 5 years

Text

Vrains Rarepair Weeks Day 10 - Soulmate AU

Fireballshipping - Takeru x Flame

Everyone was born with their soulmate's name written on the inside of their wrist. Of course, this lead to parents searching for the most unique names possible: who wouldn't want to help their child recognise their soulmate?

But even so, young Takeru would peek at his wrist and wonder: who would call their child Indomitable Soul Dream?

There wasn't anyone who he could ask about it. You didn't share your soulmate’s name - you kept it hidden and private, beneath a wrap or bangle. It wasn’t yours, after all.

When he met the fire Ignis, he was freaked out because there was a talking eyeball in his duel disc (and it's not like duel discs had good associations to start with).

But when the Ignis told him its name was Flame, and it was spelt Indomitable Soul Dream - Takeru's hand instinctively clamped over his wrist, even though it was already covered by a red wrap.

This AI had been born of his data. The people behind the Lost Incident weren't above kidnapping and torturing children - there was no way they respected the sacred privacy of the name. So that data wasn't just his, but a part of his soulmate's - and this AI had copied that? Takeru felt sick.

As they got to know each other better, and as Takeru became less spooked by the situation, Flame asked why he always kept his wrist covered.

Takeru has spluttered a lot. It was like being asked why he wore underpants.

It turned out that Flame didn’t know much about soulmates or their names.

Takeru hesitated and asked, as casually as possible: “So you... don’t know the name I’ve got?”

“No. Should I?”

“No, no!” Takeru grabbed over his wrist, blushing fiercely. “I just thought - you’re made from my data -”

“That doesn’t mean I’m consciously aware of it all.”

“Ah, I see, um...” He felt a wave of relief: that meant Flame hadn’t intended to copy the name. It was some subconscious thing. Which was weird, but okay.

And then a shocking possibility hit him: “Wait. Don’t you have a soulmate? Do AIs not have soulmates?”

Flame shrugged. “I don’t know. Kogami didn’t bother to tell us. But there’s nothing written on my wrist.”

He proffered his forearms to the human. Takeru shivered at the blankness.

Flame’s head tilted. “Does it matter?”

“It just sounds... lonely, I guess.”

Flame just sounded more confused. “I’m not lonely. I have you.”

Takeru had been embarrassed before, but now he felt flustered in a strange, new way.

Flame looked again at his wrist: not just the appearance, but the code within.

All computer data is stored as numbers, when you get down to it: zeroes and ones in hard drives and chips. Humans had come up with many ways to turn the numbers into something comprehensible to them: formats and encodings for sounds, pictures and letters.

Ignis code wasn’t meant to resemble human writing: turning it into letters would give a string of gibberish. Except that in Flame’s code a certain line, read in a certain way, happened to spell out a certain name.

It was probably coincidence it was in the wrist. It was probably Takeru’s name because that was his Origin.

Flame shrugged to himself. Like he’d said, it didn’t matter. He had already decided he was going to do everything he could to help Takeru fulfil his potential, whether they were soulmates or not.

#vrains #vrainsrarepairweeks #takeru homura #flame (vrains)#fireballshipping #vrains fic

20 notes · View notes

authoratmidnight · 5 years

Link

A late entry to @vrainsrarepairweeks (I have ideas I want to do but oof they’re gonna be late)

ft: TakeYuu and Strip Duel Monsters

#vrainsrarepairweeks #firestormshipping #bb fics #vrains

12 notes · View notes

lily-liegh · 5 years

Link

"If I had to guess ..." Ryouken says as Spectre pulls him out the gates and down the main street; he's not even sure if this is the right way. "I'd say you're envious."

"What's that even mean?"

"A nice word for jealous."

for @vrainsrarepairweeks day 14: time travel

#vrainsrarepairweeks #respectfulshipping #vrains #yugioh vrains #ryoken kogami #vrains spectre #yusaku fujiki #lily writes #(the only non blueghost chapter of this fic)

12 notes · View notes

flydotnet · 5 years

Text

The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

VRAINS Rarepair Weeks 2018-2019: Day 13: First Date/Wedding

Summary: He's getting married and yet he still doesn't know if the end result will be Mrs Zaizen or Mr Bessho. (also includes Shoichi as a wingman)

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! VRAINS Ships: Hireshipping (Ema/Akira), backgroud Zinnia, mentioned Entrust

Wordcount: 3K words

Notes: To be honest this was the perfect excuse to shove all my ships in one fic and get away with it. In a parallel universe where card games in cyberspace aren't the focus of the show and where the Hanoi Incident hasn't happened (but the kids still met anyway), everyone is happy and I can write countless amounts of unneeded fluff. I'm a simple dude: when I can be sappy as balls, I'm sappy as balls. It's been a while since I felt this cliché, but y'know what they say, you can't always subvert tropes all the time. I also hope I got Ema not too OOC for this, woosh.

Event hosted by @vrainsrarepairweeks

AO3 version available here.

Knotting a tie properly isn’t that difficult, usually. It’s a part of his daily routine, of what he does every day before work. Tie the knot, untie it once the day is gone, tie it back again on the day after. It’s just something he’s too used to not to be unable to do it on a fateful day where he needs to be at his best.

But alas, his dry hands are sweaty and shaking too much to properly tie that stupid knot.

“Brother,” he hears his sister’s voice call for him outside the room. “Are you ready yet? Ceremony’s starting soon!”

“Ah, huh,” he panics internally as he tries to compose a satisfying answer, “soon!”

“Psh, we all know that’s a lie,” a masculine voice makes itself heard. “Lemme see what’s wrong, go check up on the guests and the bride instead, Aoi.”

Before he can properly react, he’s faced with the purple-haired Shoichi Kusanagi himself, “hotdog seller extraordinaire” as he calls himself. Everyone, including the groom himself, expected him to come to this wedding dressed in any context-inappropriate attire tailor-made for hotdog making and selling instead of any reception of any kind. Instead, Shoichi surprised everyone and here he is, standing before the groom, in a suit.

As said before, Akira himself didn’t think he’d go as far as dress in a suit for this wedding. Oh well, it hasn’t been the first time he was mistaken on someone and it clearly won’t be the last. He’s not a good person-reader.

“Lemme guess,” Shoichi looks at him with a “shit-eating smirk” (Shoichi’s description, not his) as he moves his eyes up and down, “you can’t tie that damn tie properly and that’s why you’ve been taking ages.”

It’s kind of ashamed that he does admit that, yes, he cannot tie that tie properly.

“You’re a lucky dude, y’know? Contrary to popular belief, I can knot ties like a boss.”

“You do? That seems unlikely, coming from you.”

“Don’t sass me like that, Ema’s already enough for that.”

They both snicker at the remark. Accurate, but not mean-spirited. It’s all in a good war, Akira realized the last of their unlikely trio.

Working for SOL would usually mean that an employee-of-the-month-tier guy like him wouldn’t meet with more lawless and underground hackers like Shoichi or the aforementioned Ema. Truth be told, they met in college: Shoichi happened to be the guy selling hotdogs on the campus on his free time, Ema was in a similar course to his, and he never really knew why he added business to his courses. They’d meet after classes in front of the hotdog truck, and that’s how they became friends.

At first, Akira didn’t really want to befriend other people during college. He didn’t have time for that: it was either lose time around the campus doing friend things or work to support Aoi and himself financially. If not for Aoi, he wouldn’t have spent so much time near the truck. And if not for Aoi getting lost on the campus when she once searched for him, neither Shoichi nor Ema would have guessed why he was never buying anything from the former. That day was the day where Aoi told him, frankly with her eight years of age, to make friends because he looked sad and lonely. That day was also the first time she ate a hotdog, courtesy of Shoichi and half-paid by Ema.

An unlikely friendship that explains why this hotdog-selling hacker is tying his tie’s knot right as he thinks so.

“Here ya go buddy!” Shoichi proudly tells him as he sets a foot backwards. “All ready for the greatest day of your life yet!”

“Thank you,” Akira doesn’t find a better way to answer than this. The fault to his nervousness.

Shoichi rolls his eyes before giving him another smirk, this time sarcastic in tone. They know themselves too much for him not to guess.

“Akira, my dude, calm down, it’ll be fine. She won’t leave you at the altar y’know? All you gotta do is say “yes” at the right time to the right question. No big deal.”

He tries to breathe in, breathe out to prove he can, in fact, not be a bundle of nerves twenty-four-seven, but it doesn’t work to his advantage.

Shoichi looks on the side before giving his friend a strong slap on the shoulder, shaking the latter almost out of his skin. A violent way to revitalize him for sure.

“Okay, look at it this way. You survived being in the streets after losing your parents and your inheritance while attending school and college. You made it big at SOL before leaving them for a company with better morals and for a better pay check. You reconnected with your sis. And now there’s even people here to see you get married, honestly, what could possinly wrong?”

Ignoring the fact “what could possibly go wrong?” has always been Shoichi’s catchphrase for whenever something would in fact go wrong, Akira shakes his head as a resolve.

“Plus, it’s not like she ever broke up with you, no? Considering the dating record she had before meeting you, that’s a good sign!”

He thanks Shoichi again.

“Okay, gotta leave you now, I’ve got a wedding to attend. See ya when you’ll be married!”

With his tie all done, Akira can officially say he’s ready to go out there and, huh… get married. It sounds more epic and action-packed when someone else sums it for him, but he’s never been very imaginative with words, so it’ll suffice. A last look in the mirror to admire one last time Miyu’s great work with makeup and he’s finally on the go.

Technically, his wedding isn’t very traditional. His late parents, would they have been able to give their input on their son’s marriage, would have surely told him it was too “undistinguished”. However, a wedding is two people’s business (or more, but that’s not his case), and his spouse would have refused the overly outdated themes, the drawn-out and crudely inaccurate monologues from an old man dressed in a robe and other things he hasn’t even bothered researching. He let her do most of the planning: spouses need to fully trust in each other.

Their guest list reflects their peculiar situation. He doesn’t have much a family left: Aoi, his younger sister, is all he has left, and he instantly refused searching for other relatives who stole their inheritance more than a decade ago, sending a six-year-old in the streets and forcing him to grow up too fast. Now twenty-eight, he realizes every time he thinks of his college classmates who are still partying out there. At least, her fiancée isn’t bothered by how old-fashioned he is: she has allowed him to regain some of his youth once they started frequenting each other.

On her side, the family has been reduced too: her father having died, her mother is bringing her to the altar (she still insisted on this to happen). Her half-brother has accepted coming, at first to his surprise, but after remembering how he was behind his cold façade, it was more obvious. Instead of the father, she invited her theoretical mother-in-law. Their own family business is tense and tough to follow, but at least, they’re all fine now.

As he makes his way to the altar, to where everything will happen, he thinks of all their guests as a way to keep the crippling stress at bay.

The most important guest to him is, of course, Aoi. She’s his witness too, almost by default in a way: seeing her smile when he entrusted her with this task was more than worth the shot. He couldn’t see anyone else taking care of this too. As such, and considering how little family they had, he allowed her to invite a few friends of hers from high school. One of them, Yusaku as he’s called, turns out to be a close friend of Shoichi too. The world is such a small place.

With Aoi came her girlfriend, Miyu. They met during elementary school but lost each other’s tracks when he had to move places to afford for them to live. That was before they ended up in Den City. They reunited in middle school and dated shortly after beginning high school, much to his surprise but absolutely not to Shoichi and Ema’s. Even if he was surprised, she quickly grew on him with her cheerfulness, her kindness and her wish to ensure Aoi’s happiness. It’s what made them bond with each other over time, after all.

He doesn’t know much about Aoi’s other friends. There is Yusaku, Shoichi’s best friend, but he’s not the only one. There is this young man named Takeru too, a very nice boy as far as he knows, and the childhood-friend-turned-girlfriend of the latter, Kiku. They all met through each other and he has to admit: he felt honoured when he learnt that Takeru and Kiku were coming back from their hometown specifically for the wedding. It probably serves as a perfect occasion for them to gather around, though.

The last, but not least, from their friend group is Jin, Shoichi’s little brother. Akira has known him for longer than his sister’s friends, exception made for Miyu, for this reason. A joyful boy with a smile to give to most people and a passion for video games he openly shares with Yusaku who has this best friendship going with both of the Kusanagi siblings.

Well, time to stop overthinking. The door right in front of him is where it all begins.

His anxiety hasn’t let go of him, but he tries to look presentable anyway. It’s almost like being on a stage: there is an audience sitting in front of you, albeit more to your ground level, presumably watching your every move or chatting with their neighbours and, even then, it could be about you. Shoichi, his best man, waves him a thumbs up and Aoi smiles to him. On the other hand, his future brother-in-law seems as impassable as ever, despite a slight smile drawing near. The chatting subdues more and more as a not-so-familiar music resonates through the building, a reception venue to be exact. They didn’t want anything too public and especially not retrograde.

“Oh, it’s starting,” Aoi makes a last little comment before they all look in the same direction.

And there arrives the bride in a black dress reaching her knees with pink highlights, mostly present in the lace on the elbow-length sleeves and hem of the skirt part. They agreed on him wearing white and her wearing black, after all, based on personal preferences. Someone tried to make it poetic, Miyu if he’s not wrong, but Ema simply told her it was only because he looked better in white and she looked better in black. Her opinions, not his, even if she looks gorgeous in black.

Even if he has seen countless times, from the very first time they saw each other in college to this morning when he waited for her to wake up before getting up, he has seen her in countless outfits: casual class-attending attire, biker suit, winter coats they had bought together, and the most intimate kinds of little-dressed. And even then, even after all these years of dating and months of engagement, he’s still mesmerized by her pristine hairdo with flowers amongst her pink locks, her makeup, the dress she kept secret from him (with Aoi’s obvious involvement in said secret, but he didn’t actively try to ruin the surprise for their sake and his while he was at it), her everything.

And to think he gets to be the one who spends the rest of their days with her.

Some of the things that he got told when announcing their engagement ring back inside his mind.

“You better take care of her, if you don’t want to be shot on sight,” from her older brother, Kengo, who is smiling now because his sister is here and she’s beautiful.

“I bet she’s the one who asked you to marry her,” from Shoichi, before he got proven wrong. “But, like, on the other hand, you’re the old-fashioned of the two.”

“Brother, I’m so glad for you! I’d be glad to help with the preparations,” from Aoi.

“And how did it go?! Where did you do so?! I’m sure it was romantic!” from Hayami, or should he say Kairi, who, after accepting they were never dating years ago, still gracefully accepted the invitation before slipping into gossip mode. He can see her sobbing in the audience, and he’s not sure if she’s crying of heartbreak or happiness.

“Took you long enough,” from another workmate.

At least, Ema arrives to face him, and he’s not sure how he’s still keeping it together despite the acute taste of his heartbeats in his mouth. She has a bouquet, a little coquetry she allowed herself, of flowers she picked with Aoi and Miyu’s help for their meaning. His sister explained him what they all meant, yesterday, but he’s kind of forgotten because it’s a detail. He’ll be very glad to know all about these flowers when the main ceremony will be over.

She puts her hand in his, the one who doesn’t hold the bouquet, and an official they don’t know much about is reciting what seems to be a glorified protocol. The symbolic value of the event is more important than some words read aloud from a deeply impersonal text anyway. The fact that someone wanted him enough to spend their days with him and officially only with him romantically-speaking is still over his mind, blowing his imaginary every time he remembers that Ema, of all the women he has known, has accepted this. On her own terms, of course, so she’s not his prisoner. He has even insisted for it not to be the case.

He manages to look directly into her eyes despite how nervous he is. His hand is trembling in hers, and yet hers is so stable and so assured, just she has always been: bold, daring, alluring and adventurous. Nothing scares her, everything stresses him out. They counterbalance each other perfectly: he needs someone to awaken a wilder part of himself, she perhaps needs someone to anchor back into reality would she get too deep into virtual worlds and treasure-hunting. Or maybe it’s just his reverie. It could very well be this cheesy romantic side of him who never got to fully express itself until he was financially stable.

“Don’t be so anxious, hubbie-to-be,” she whispers to him with a wink and this familiar flirtatious tone.

He didn’t think he could get redder than he already was until this moment.

The monologue is a bit more personal when it starts speaking about Ema, from her infancy to her current years, to the end of her twenties, from fond childhood memories (her quirking eyebrows indicate she’s embarrassed by these) to how they met. They both entrusted Aoi and Miyu, aspiring writer, to write it for them instead of the officials, Kengo who would have certainly pointed out all of his flaws in great detail one by one as part of their brotherly feud or, well, each other. They wanted the surprise to be full for the both of them and slightly more objective judges.

He does remember some of these stories. Their meeting has been a bit romanced: they didn’t meet in a classroom and spoke about informatics. No, they met in front of a hotdog truck on the college campus because he got lost while trying to find the offices to regularize his administrative situation and had to ask her for directions. He can still remember her and Shoichi’s laugh. Good times.

Akira’s heart almost skips a beat when the official stops his monotonous reading and asks the fateful question: “Would you take Ms Bessho Ema as your wife?”, with all that implies getting brushed under the rug. But for once, he doesn’t need to think seven times before speaking:

“I do.”

He’s not even sure if the man was actually finished speaking, but it doesn’t matter. His delivery wasn’t shaking either, that’s a plus.

The official resumes his protocol, goes on a paragraph about him this time. It’s more or less the same record, but his life is far less interesting to him than hers: he remembers what he’s lived through, and he had to tell Aoi and Miyu about his first sixteen years or so, so he knows what to expect. His childhood and adolescence are glossed over, his homeless time with Aoi either romanticized (courtesy of Aoi who got scared and scarred by the time he caught a dangerous case of pneumonia) or skipped over, much to his relief. It’s fairly accurate for the parts he had no control over.

The man asks her if she wants to take him as her husband, spend the remainder of her days with him, and be there for him because he’ll be there for her.

“Of course I do,” she tells him while not breaking eye contact with her fiancé.

In traditional Ema fashion, he doesn’t get to hear the command for them to kiss than she has already pressed her lips against his. He has learnt not to be a clumsy idiot at kissing and returns it just fine as everyone claps. He can almost hear Aoi retain herself from crying. It’s like he’s in a movie, but he’s too optimistic and delighted to think anything will go wrong in a subverting fashion.

This is real life, not some movie, and sometimes, life happens to be generous and fine with people.

Once they break away from their kiss if not just to breathe, her hand still on the back of his head and his heart still beating too quickly, Shoichi drops the question they have never resolved beforehand.

“So, is it Mrs Zaizen or Mr Bessho now?”

He panics on the inside again for a couple moments, as he never wanted to force her into tradition, but as always, Ema is the active one of their relationship, their tandem, and responds for the both of them.

“Call me Mrs Zaizen.”

And she kisses him again before he can respond with something ridiculous.

End Notes

Shoichi is best VRAINS character and that's why the series had to nerf his screentime for us not to notice he was the perfect protagonist. I also don't like to antagonize Hayami despite her... recent character "development", and also I gave her a name because why not.

Some say Miyu got the bouquet tho

#vrains #vrainsrarepairweeks #hireshipping #zinniashipping #my writing

10 notes · View notes

vrainsrarepairweeks · 5 years

Text

LESS THAN 12 HOURS TO GO!! 🎉🎉

Thank you to everyone who plans to participate in the event and to the people that have tried to support the event! You guys are why this event is happening and we can't wait to see all your awesome works 🎊 To the people who aren't creating content you are also important and I hope you see some content for your favorite ships during this event. Let's all try to support each other and leave comments and reblogs on each other's works to encourage the wonderful content creators in this fandom!!

Also it's a little early but happy holidays to everyone!!

#vrains #ygo vrains #yugioh vrains #vrainsrarepairweeks

11 notes · View notes

poyomon2 · 5 years

Link

It was an extremely rare event to find your soulmate. Most people never do by the time the bond breaks.

Yusaku hoped he wouldn't be the outlier. He wouldn't wish that upon anyone.

Characters: Yusaku, Aoi (minor: Shoichi, Ai)

Relationships: Yusaku/Aoi

Written for @vrainsrarepairweeks day 10: Soulmate AU!

A little late and maybe a bit unfinished because I got stuck, but I hit an alright stopping point anyway so if I figure out how to continue it I might add another chapter.

#vrainsrarepairweeks #vrains #yusaku fujiki #aoi zaizen #angelmakershipping #poyo writing ficstuff #vrains ficstuff

9 notes · View notes

merryfortune · 4 years

Text

Day 6: Bad Timing & Disastrous Consequences

Ship: Earth/Spectre

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,231

Tags: Canon Divergent

Spectre’s eyes widened. The blue of his irises glittered as he grasped at all their words, clinging to them. He gasped. Jaw slackened and he felt breathless as he processed them, over and over. From the moment everything was explained, he held all that information with a crystalline clarity in his heart. It meant the world to him. Not only did he have value, he possessed qualities which were life-changing; world-changing. Even when it turned bitter, the fact remained. He was something special and that specialness had been used to create something better than he ever could have imagined during those six months of captivity.

True, it was a shame that that specialness couldn’t have worked out the way the assistants and Dr Kogami had wanted, but it didn’t change the fact that Spectre had contributed as one of the six to be experimented upon. His duelling had created an Ignis.

But his bonds to young Kogami Ryoken outweighed that so, even younger Spectre took no issue with the new goal of the Hanoi: to exterminate the Ignis, the very creatures that they had created. Thus, Spectre swore fealty to that cause on behalf of his master. Wherever Ryoken went, Spectre would follow with all the trust in the world and more. Unquestioning loyalty which Spectre had been certain was genuinely endless.

And yet…

And yet, here he was. He had the damn thing in his hands, he could strangle the living daylights out of it; surely that wouldn’t be too hard and yet, Spectre stared it down, clutched in the slats of his thin fingers, and he couldn’t find the strength. Then again, he had always been weak. Incomplete.

Spectre swallowed. It looked up back unto him. It seemed to think that he was weak too – or, at the very least, presently, it did not think that he had the strength to go through with the deed.

It was orange with brown stripes and these startlingly blue, prismatic eyes which Spectre really shouldn’t be staring directly at and, yet, it was all he could do... It was bulky, too. Difficult to hold. Odd-looking and very square.

Ryoken had never told him how the elements had been assigned or otherwise allotted. He didn’t know if they were preordained by chance or by the schematics of the scientists who had worked on the Hanoi Project or some combination thereof. Ryoken had never told him what element that he had produced regardless of such circumstances just beyond him but, Spectre was confident that he could guess.

The Earth Ignis.

It was the Earth Ignis which had come for him and him alone. His heart pounded and scowled as best he could, yet all villainy was slowly slipping away. Spectre was envious. He was envious by nature. Always wanting what he could never have and therefore coveting those who could have it. Right now, all such emotional energy that Spectre possessed was being channelled towards that heinous Soulburner. Those two had become quite the hot topic online since they were cosying up to Playmaker and then, for those privy to the information which regarded the Fire Ignis, that made them a threat. Not to mention, they got along like a house on fire.

So, in Spectre’s malicious opinion, up until right this instant, rather unfair that his Ignis had never sought him out since two, possibly three, of the six had made contact with their Origins and now, it was here. On this godforsaken yacht with him and Spectre, unwittingly, found himself at a crosshair which he had never expected.

The Earth Ignis was… adorable.

All Spectre needed was one look and apparently, he was gone. He didn’t know what it was about the creature, but it was truly adorable. Its eyes were so expressive and glamourous. Its skin was smooth like a worn-down rock and warm too. It was both huge and tiny at once. Everything about it just appealed to Spectre in a way which was so deep and visceral that it had completely blown away all his defences which he had been so diligently working on for the past decade lest this very situation unfold.

He always thought that if his Ignis even dared to seek him out, he would have no hesitation eliminating it. He would easily kill the little bastard. But no matter how hard Spectre willed himself to think such thoughts, they were disarmed so easily with just an expressive – and honestly, rather confused – look from its eyes. All he wanted to do was coo over it. It was disgusting.

Spectre hesitated. He gave the Earth Ignis a squeeze. It squirmed in his grip, but he let it go. Spectre’s fingers dropped away slowly. The Earth Ignis sighed in relief. It looked up at him, again: confused but innocently so. Spectre then cast his glare downwards, more onto himself, really. It was mostly to avoid such a look that the Earth Ignis was giving him. It was too cute for him to bear and that just made his grimace worsen. He felt something like disappointment in himself. He was weak. Always had been; always will be. His feelings were funny and got in the way of things. Especially important things. It was important to Master Ryoken that the Ignis were exterminated.

And yet, Spectre felt differently. It was only a slight deviation, he swears. Really, it’s coming from a place of devotion but that was soon twisting. This was purer, more childlike than that. After all, Spectre’s greatest pride and happiness came from being needed, from being wanted, and nothing had sated such cravings like the experimentation of the Lost Incident.

He took a breath. “I’m sorry.” He was ginger in his reply; he didn’t know if it was aimed at the Earth Ignis before him or the iteration of Master Ryoken that he had in his mind.

The Earth Ignis blinked. “Don’t be…?” he said.

“Why are you here?” Spectre asked.

“Something big is about to happen. My friend has gone missing. I want you to help find her. She asked me to choose: humans or Ignis. I have chosen both.”

Spectre snickered. What a strange creature. Not that he could speak. He smiled. “Very well, then we ought to partner up then, yes?” He wondered if the slate between them was refreshed or not; he was beginning to doubt whether or not his Ignis even knew his history and for some reason, that potential obliviousness was very endearing.

The Earth Ignis smiled. “That sounds perfect. Thank you so much.”

The Earth Ignis raised his hand to Spectre. Spectre regarded it, this time, in confusion but he accepted it. He let the paradoxically big little creature hold onto his index finger which he offered it. Its grip was familiar, comforting it. A tear rolled down Spectre’s cheek. It flustered him: it felt hot and embarrassing in its slick wake down his face. He swallowed. He was fortunate that it was just one, little tear.

Spectre took another breath. It was hasty and selfish. In his chest, his heart pounded, mending itself in ways that he didn’t know needed mending. Master Ryoken be damned. This Ignis was different. His Ignis was different. He was keeping it. And they were going to be partners and they were going to live happily ever after; Spectre would ensure it.

#writing tag #vrainsrarepairweeks #vrainsrarepairweeks2019 #yugioh vrains #vrains #yugioh #spectre (vrains)#earth (vrains)#motherearthshipping

7 notes · View notes