[Drabble] Yamamoto Ryouta Birthday drabble post pt.2
So, part two of Yamamoto Ryouta's birthday drabble post! This is SO late, but I basically burned out in October last year and have been recovering. I seem to have recovered this past week though! So hopefully I'll be posting more fic around here ♥ So, despite this being late, Happy Birthday, Yamamoto Ryouta, you are the most precious thing ever. T_T ♥
(This is also 'and Rin writes ALL the AUs' or 'And Rin really ships YaraRyo but sometimes other ships appear'.)
Thank you for being patient with me. ;o; ♥
Part 1
winter → Yara/Yamamoto, Synthetics!AU (from the same verse as this)
“It’s cold,” Yamamoto marveled, holding a hand out as if to test the air, even as he shivered.
“I forgot you’ve never been out for the season changes,” Yara chuckled, scooting closer to share his body heat. Yamamoto leaned in, smiling nervously. There was no snow and Yara said there wouldn’t be for some time, but this cold. As a Synthetic, he had never felt anything like it. It was biting, gnawing its way down to his bones in ways that the sun had never so quickly.
“It’s weird,” he admitted, sneaking a glance at Yara.
“Oh, it’s miserable,” Yara laughed. “But I can’t just make it summer, you know? Everything has a season.”
Yamamoto smiled, letting his head drop down onto Yara’s shoulder. It was true, what Yara said, and that made the cold barely noticeable as he enveloped himself into all that was Yara. Because this was their season.
birthday presents → Yara/Yamamoto, Pandora Hearts!AU (Takes place in this verse. Uh, preleudes to sexy-times, but no actual sexy-times.)
Yamamoto stared down at the ribbons that draped over his fingertips. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was holding, but he got the gist of it and his cheeks were flaming red. “What’s this?” he asked, trying to downplay the sudden fit of nerves.
“It’s a birthday present, Kitten,” Yara said, grinning all sharp and predatory and oh god.
“You’re my chain!”
“And you’re my contractor,” Yara said, unperturbed as he lifted one of the silky ribbons with a fingertip. “Do you really think I can’t tell what you’d like?”
Yamamoto gaped at him, shivering as Yara brushed cold lips against his own. But he didn’t pull away. Not at all. How had Yara even…?
“You drank my blood, Kitten,” he was reminded. “There’s very little I don’t know about you. And well…” A hand rested on his knee. Intent, but waiting. “The rest I’m willing to find out.”
KITTENS → Yamamoto+Friends, Gen, canonfic
“Ryo-chan, can you hand me my bag?” Eda asked over his shoulder, untangling his shoelaces.
“Nyan.” The bag landed next to his feet.
“What was that?” Eda laughed.
Yamamoto tilted his head, eyebrow raising a fraction. “Nyan?” But the effect was totally spoiled as he fought back a smile.
“Don’t even try,” Tatsumi said as he walked in, dropping his towel on Koshioka’s head. “He made a bet with Yara to make it through rehearsal without breaking character.”
“Character?” Hayashi laughed. “He’s a cat? More like a lovesick puppy.”
“Nyan,” Yamamoto said, sticking his tongue out.
Just then, Yara walked in, also dropping his towel on Koshioka (“Hey!”)
“What’s this about a bet, Yaracchi?” Eda and Hayashi asked, immediately zoning in on him.
Yara looked unimpressed. “Nyan?”
blackout → Yamamoto, AU (So this is based off a verse/RP that yararanger and I created together. Yamaryo's something like 10 or 11 in this time period.
It was dark when Ryouta awoke. He knew it was dark, because above the harsh lights, the sky was blackened. It made his head swim as he shut his eyes against the light. Street lights. They were street lights.
Everything ached. His tiny hands and his skinned knees. He had skinned his knees because he’d fallen off his bike. But it was more than that. Everything hurt.
He was in the mouth of an alleyway, half propped up against a dumpster. The dumpster reeked and his head was still swimming. Where was Mama?
Run, she had screamed.
Run.
He didn’t know what he was doing here, wherever here was. But his Mama had told him to run and he had to keep on moving. He had to keep on moving because she was going to find him.
He wobbled to his feet, skinned knees and everything protesting, before setting off into the alley. This was where they’d always told him never to go, but it was dark. Nobody could see him. He could keep on moving until Mama found him.
trust → Yara/Yamamoto, PG-13 (So I sort of wanted to write a fic where consent is not a given thing and stuff, I guess tumblr made me want to write it and then I saw this prompt and this is what happened. x: I'm hoping it's okay!)
It had seemed like a good idea, earlier. It had seemed like a great idea, with Yara kissing along his neck, whispering the question. It had even seemed okay when Yara had actually pulled out the ropes, silky and long.
They’d tried handcuffs before, which seemed close enough and Yamamoto had liked them.
But now the prickle of his skin was anything but comfortable or enjoyable. He couldn’t move, couldn’t see Yara as he worked on a knot or two behind his back and that made it worse somehow. His stomach heaved and he bit his lip, trying to even out his breathing.
“Ryouta?” Yara asked, hands pausing in their work.
He was waiting for the signal and Yamamoto pulled himself back together, falling back on those three words.
Green. Yellow. Red.
Go. Pause. Stop.
“… Green,” he whispered. He could do this, couldn’t he? Yamamoto bit his lip even harder, his eyes squeezed shut, trying to convince himself. It’d be fine. He’d calm down.
But his voice hadn’t been as steady as he’d hoped, and Yara instantly dropped his hands so he wasn’t touching Yamamoto at all. “Ryouta,” he said again, but it was softer, even more gentle than before. “Ryouta, its okay.”
“Red,” Yamamoto blurted out, because he couldn’t move and he didn’t like it and he hated that he couldn’t, but he really couldn’t.
Moments later, the ropes fell away and Yamamoto slid against Yara with a relieved gasp, eyes still closed as Yara’s arms wrapped around him, warm, comforting, and safe.
“It’s okay to say no,” Yara said into his hair. “I’d never want to do anything like that to you unless you wanted it. It’s okay to say no.”
Yamamoto realized he was trembling, something he couldn’t stop, but Yara didn’t say anything else, just held him close until everything felt right again.
cold autumn morning → Yara/Yamamoto, Tron!AU (Part of the Butoukan plotline in the same verse as this)
The leaves were just beginning to die and Yamamoto wished he’s brought a heavier jacket. He doesn’t even know why he’s here, just that there had been a note on his locker that morning, telling him the exact coordinates of the new meeting place.
He felt a little off balance, walking on real rocks and dirt and grass. It wasn’t that he spent that much time on the Grid, but that’s where this had all been contained before. Yara had been part of the games, part of the pure existence of the Grid, while the outside world was messy and confusing, chaos unending.
And yet here Yamamoto was, on a fading September’s morning, because Yara had asked him to.
The park was deserted at this time of day and it was easy to find the man. He was just as Yamamoto should have known he’d be, just like his avatar, just like he was outside of the gridsuits. Real, though, which had somehow never occurred to Yamamoto before. He couldn’t help but stand there and stare for several moments before Yara looked up from his book, smiling as he saw Yamamoto. At least he was dressed warmly in fleece and a windbreaker.
“Hey kid, glad you came,” he said, and yeah, that voice, it couldn’t have been anyone else. Yara patted the bench next to him. “A certain someone’s got big plans and he thinks you’re just the right kid for the job. Interested?”
Yamamoto didn’t even have to think about it, scrambling into the seat next to Yara with a “Yessir!”
red and orange and gold → Yara/Yamamoto, canonfic
Most mornings, Yamamoto never saw the sunrise, preferring the company of his favorite pillow and a blanket pulled over his head. Even if he was awake that early in the morning, he tended to be doing something, like running to get coffee and trying to avoid being late to work - either separately or simultaneously.
But there were those days. They didn’t happen that often, because sleep, but that added an extra touch of special when they did. Those special little moments when they retreated from everything else.
“Hey,” Yara said, voice rough with sleep, shaking at Yamamoto’s shoulder. “Come on, you’ve got to see this.”
Groaning, Yamamoto tried to tunnel into his pillow, muttering unintelligibly that there was no reason to be awake before noon on vacation, but Yara was still at his shoulder and he gave in, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
The curtains had been drawn and the sea lay before them, covered in a layer of fog as the sun rose, red and orange and gold and glorious, above it.
“Good morning,” Yara grinned, sprawling out on the bed beside him as they watched the sun rise until the fog was no more.
Tension → Yara/Yamamoto/human!Chura, Circus!AU (Circus AU! I've always wanted to actually write a circus AU. And Chura too, because Yamaryo loves her and she is fabulous. ♥)
Yamamoto had been with the circus for years, but he had never actually spoken to the man in the mask who flew on the trapezes above him. He was just a tightrope walker, an exciting piece for the children, but easily forgettable when the man in the mask appeared with his partner, a lithe, strong woman dressed in silver to contrast with his gold.
Cobra, he was called on stage and Yamamoto didn’t actually know his real name. Her name was Chura and she was the loveliest of all the women in the circus. He was entrancing, captivating as he defied gravity and danced on the bars above Yamamoto.
Yamamoto didn’t know why he cared so much, he had never seen the man in the mask outside of the ring. The circus was vast, its own city of chaos, and he knew there were parts of it that he’d never see or understand. The man in the mask was one of them.
But it didn’t stop him from wanting.
So every night, as Cobra and Chura flew through the air, he walked across the rope, hoping every time he’d be able to reach just a little higher, to get just a little closer to where they were.
handwritten letters → (implied someone/)Yamamoto, Tamamori, AU (Previous character death. It's intended to be Yara, but you can imagine it to be whoever you want it to be.)
Yamamoto smoothed his fingertips over the worn paper, smiling down at the faded writing. It wasn’t the most beautifully crafted epistle - the writing was untidy, the paper was plain - but he handled it with the utmost care.
It wasn’t the first time Tamamori had seen the letters, but it was the first time Yamamoto had even tried to explain what they meant to him. Even now, he visibly struggled with it.
“This was…” he stopped, his eyes misting. “This was the last letter he sent. It was… October. He died three days later. The day before they ended the war.”
Tamamori normally distanced him from such raw displays of emotion, putting up barriers to avoid being sucked in, but Yamamoto was small and fragile and sad, his hands trembling as he tried to tell Tamamori the truth, for the very first time.
“We’d always hoped… after the war was over, we could tell everyone. This was his,” Yamamoto whispered, touching the ring he wore around his neck. “We’d… we’d made all those plans and then he never came home.”
That was a pain that Tamamori didn’t understand. There was no word of comfort he could offer Yamamoto, no phrase that could make this all better, because this was something that would never get better. So instead, he pulled Yamamoto close and let him cry on his shoulder.
hot chocolate → Yara/Yamamoto, Starchild!AU (From the Starchild!AU)
The city is still deserted when Yara finds a place for them to stay. It’s a hotel two blocks down, but it’s got the perfect lookout and it appears to be fully stocked. Neither of them felt that bad in raiding the kitchens and supply rooms, not after what they’d been through.
Ryouta had already nested in the first room they could get open, having piled several comforters together and settled himself right in the center. Yara couldn’t help but smile as he handed over the mug of hot chocolate, watching as Ryouta curled his hands around it, breathing in the steam.
“Chocolate was one of your best creations,” he sighed, scooting over to make room for Yara on the pile of blankets. The stars in his eyes glowed contentedly.
“Any idea where we are?” Yara asked as he joined him. The fact that this place was a perfectly built city, there was no reason for it to be so empty. Nothing out of place, no bodies or blood, just… empty. It wasn’t even that eerie.
“It’s… not where I meant,” Ryouta admitted. “But this is like an abandoned green room for a certain… well, you might think of him as a god. We should be fine unless they have some sort of security. I can’t jump us very far for a while though, so it’ll be a bit before I can get us around more… people.”
Yara was okay with that. People had tried to separate them every step of the way, kidnapping Ryouta, throwing Yara in jail. They needed time to recover, to heal. He was okay with it just being the two of them for a little while. Hell, they could wait here until Yonehana, Machida, and Tatsumi came looking for them, for all he cared.
For now, this was what they needed, he thought as he watched Ryouta sip at his hot chocolate. This was perfect.
drug(s) → Yara/Yamamoto, Takizawa/Fujigaya, Gunslinger!AU (this is an AU based off of Gunslinger Girl's anime. Yara is Yamaryo's handler ('older brother').)
Yamamoto was alone as he waited outside the lab, waiting for his time. It was the beginning of a new conditioning cycle for all of them, but Fujigaya always took the longest. Nikaido was nowhere to be seen and Takaki had wandered out to the gardens an hour ago. So Yamamoto sat alone, waiting.
He didn’t like this period of time, where he had to be alone. He was almost never alone, either with one of the other mods or his handler. Usually his handler. But Yara wasn’t allowed to come the lab anymore.
It was the conditioning. Yara hated the conditioning cycle more than he hated paperwork and bad coffee, he’d told Yamamoto once, and Yamamoto shifted uneasily.
The process of conditioning the mods - short for modified - was complicated. Yamamoto automatically understood it, something the process instilled in him, but it was harder for Yara to understand. “I don’t want to watch you die a second time,” Yara had snapped the last time they’d talked about it, six months ago. Yamamoto hadn’t even tried to point out that he hadn’t even died the first time. Conditioning was vital for a mod to function, to handle the demands given by the Agency and their individual handlers. It was how their cybernetics were kept in working order.
But it was also a slow poison.
“Yamamoto-kun?” Takizawa appeared beside him, giving him a warm smile. “You look a bit lost in thought.”
“It’s nothing,” Yamamoto muttered, getting to his feet. Takizawa being here meant that Fujigaya would be done soon. Sure enough, the door opened a moment later, one of the doctors guiding Fujigaya out of the lab with the greatest of care.
“Ah….” Fujigaya smiled, all soft and vague and nothing like what Fujigaya was really like, but this was what happened with the conditioning process. Nikaido had whispered that last time they’d tried to condition Fujigaya, he’d stopped breathing. While all the mods needed conditioning, they had discovered that it shorted a mod’s lifespan significantly. While they had scaled back on the drugs used in the process, the damage had already been done to Fujigaya.
Yamamoto didn’t think about what that meant. He just knew this was why Yara never came anymore. He wasn’t allowed to, the Director had forbidden it. Because he hated what it did to the mods. What it did to Yamamoto.
“Yamamoto-kun, please come in,” the doctor said, gesturing inside. Yamamoto stepped inside the sterile environment and looked at the hospital bed, grimacing.
Maybe Yara was rubbing off on him.
Maybe he was starting to hate it too.
sweat/shower → Ren/Yamamoto, IDN!AU (Prelude to more sexy-times... Don't ask. The dance boys were in the first episode of IDN. 8X I think TamaRyo is cool, okay.)
Yamamoto grinned as he walked into the shower. Ren had only just started showering, still in his sweats and underwear as he stood under the stream. Despite the attire, he looked great. Yamamoto had a thing for brooding men with sharp eyes and great hips.
“Motherfucker,” the man snapped in alarm, when he realized he wasn’t alone. “Freak, get out of here.”
“Why?” Yamamoto asked, impudently, daringly. Everyone knew what happened when you crossed Ren, but Yamamoto liked the game, playing with risk and chance and loaded dice. Ren could have gotten him dismissed months ago.
“Could you at least shut the curtain,” Ren grumbled, already defeated as he turned away, stepping back under the water.
“That’s weird,” Yamamoto said, more bluntly now that he knew what mood Ren was in. “The pants,” he added as he shut the curtain and joined Ren under the water. “I think I’m going to do something about that,” he continued on, palming at Ren’s cock. “Or we can just do it like this, I guess.”
“Goddammit.”
Cinderella → Yara/Yamamoto, Castle!AU (Cinderella will always be Castle!AU to me. Set after this)
“You do know I refused the betrothal for you, don’t you?” Yara asked, chuckling in amusement.
It was summer, balmy and pleasant, and they were out on the balcony again, in a tangle of blankets and stargazing.
“I…” Yamamoto’s voice caught in his throat and he stared up at the shimmering sky for a moment in wordless contemplation. “No… I mean. I thought. Hoped, even.”
“I did,” Yara said, rolling to his side so he could press a kiss to Yamamoto’s temple. “I couldn’t do it after you left. Not after I had figured everything out.” He paused for a moment and then asked, “Why is it you didn’t come back after you found out? Surely you had heard about it months before.”
Yamamoto pursed his lips. He hadn’t been back so long that his exile had been forgotten. “I… I didn’t want to assume anything. I mean, I thought you thought I was just some woman and… well, who am I to a princess or a noble lady? They can do everything I can and can’t and more.”
“Idiot,” Yara growled, voice rough with affection as he nipped at Yamamoto’s bare shoulder. “Sure, I’m sure they’d let me know if I look daft in Fujigaya’s creations and go racing with me up the mountains if we wanted and love me with all the passion I’d need, but,” he paused, moving so he was leaning over Yamamoto, eyes sparkling even in the dim light.
“None of that would matter if it wasn’t you.”
(This is also 'and Rin writes ALL the AUs' or 'And Rin really ships YaraRyo but sometimes other ships appear'.)
Thank you for being patient with me. ;o; ♥
Part 1
winter → Yara/Yamamoto, Synthetics!AU (from the same verse as this)
“It’s cold,” Yamamoto marveled, holding a hand out as if to test the air, even as he shivered.
“I forgot you’ve never been out for the season changes,” Yara chuckled, scooting closer to share his body heat. Yamamoto leaned in, smiling nervously. There was no snow and Yara said there wouldn’t be for some time, but this cold. As a Synthetic, he had never felt anything like it. It was biting, gnawing its way down to his bones in ways that the sun had never so quickly.
“It’s weird,” he admitted, sneaking a glance at Yara.
“Oh, it’s miserable,” Yara laughed. “But I can’t just make it summer, you know? Everything has a season.”
Yamamoto smiled, letting his head drop down onto Yara’s shoulder. It was true, what Yara said, and that made the cold barely noticeable as he enveloped himself into all that was Yara. Because this was their season.
birthday presents → Yara/Yamamoto, Pandora Hearts!AU (Takes place in this verse. Uh, preleudes to sexy-times, but no actual sexy-times.)
Yamamoto stared down at the ribbons that draped over his fingertips. He wasn’t sure exactly what he was holding, but he got the gist of it and his cheeks were flaming red. “What’s this?” he asked, trying to downplay the sudden fit of nerves.
“It’s a birthday present, Kitten,” Yara said, grinning all sharp and predatory and oh god.
“You’re my chain!”
“And you’re my contractor,” Yara said, unperturbed as he lifted one of the silky ribbons with a fingertip. “Do you really think I can’t tell what you’d like?”
Yamamoto gaped at him, shivering as Yara brushed cold lips against his own. But he didn’t pull away. Not at all. How had Yara even…?
“You drank my blood, Kitten,” he was reminded. “There’s very little I don’t know about you. And well…” A hand rested on his knee. Intent, but waiting. “The rest I’m willing to find out.”
KITTENS → Yamamoto+Friends, Gen, canonfic
“Ryo-chan, can you hand me my bag?” Eda asked over his shoulder, untangling his shoelaces.
“Nyan.” The bag landed next to his feet.
“What was that?” Eda laughed.
Yamamoto tilted his head, eyebrow raising a fraction. “Nyan?” But the effect was totally spoiled as he fought back a smile.
“Don’t even try,” Tatsumi said as he walked in, dropping his towel on Koshioka’s head. “He made a bet with Yara to make it through rehearsal without breaking character.”
“Character?” Hayashi laughed. “He’s a cat? More like a lovesick puppy.”
“Nyan,” Yamamoto said, sticking his tongue out.
Just then, Yara walked in, also dropping his towel on Koshioka (“Hey!”)
“What’s this about a bet, Yaracchi?” Eda and Hayashi asked, immediately zoning in on him.
Yara looked unimpressed. “Nyan?”
blackout → Yamamoto, AU (So this is based off a verse/RP that yararanger and I created together. Yamaryo's something like 10 or 11 in this time period.
It was dark when Ryouta awoke. He knew it was dark, because above the harsh lights, the sky was blackened. It made his head swim as he shut his eyes against the light. Street lights. They were street lights.
Everything ached. His tiny hands and his skinned knees. He had skinned his knees because he’d fallen off his bike. But it was more than that. Everything hurt.
He was in the mouth of an alleyway, half propped up against a dumpster. The dumpster reeked and his head was still swimming. Where was Mama?
Run, she had screamed.
Run.
He didn’t know what he was doing here, wherever here was. But his Mama had told him to run and he had to keep on moving. He had to keep on moving because she was going to find him.
He wobbled to his feet, skinned knees and everything protesting, before setting off into the alley. This was where they’d always told him never to go, but it was dark. Nobody could see him. He could keep on moving until Mama found him.
trust → Yara/Yamamoto, PG-13 (So I sort of wanted to write a fic where consent is not a given thing and stuff, I guess tumblr made me want to write it and then I saw this prompt and this is what happened. x: I'm hoping it's okay!)
It had seemed like a good idea, earlier. It had seemed like a great idea, with Yara kissing along his neck, whispering the question. It had even seemed okay when Yara had actually pulled out the ropes, silky and long.
They’d tried handcuffs before, which seemed close enough and Yamamoto had liked them.
But now the prickle of his skin was anything but comfortable or enjoyable. He couldn’t move, couldn’t see Yara as he worked on a knot or two behind his back and that made it worse somehow. His stomach heaved and he bit his lip, trying to even out his breathing.
“Ryouta?” Yara asked, hands pausing in their work.
He was waiting for the signal and Yamamoto pulled himself back together, falling back on those three words.
Green. Yellow. Red.
Go. Pause. Stop.
“… Green,” he whispered. He could do this, couldn’t he? Yamamoto bit his lip even harder, his eyes squeezed shut, trying to convince himself. It’d be fine. He’d calm down.
But his voice hadn’t been as steady as he’d hoped, and Yara instantly dropped his hands so he wasn’t touching Yamamoto at all. “Ryouta,” he said again, but it was softer, even more gentle than before. “Ryouta, its okay.”
“Red,” Yamamoto blurted out, because he couldn’t move and he didn’t like it and he hated that he couldn’t, but he really couldn’t.
Moments later, the ropes fell away and Yamamoto slid against Yara with a relieved gasp, eyes still closed as Yara’s arms wrapped around him, warm, comforting, and safe.
“It’s okay to say no,” Yara said into his hair. “I’d never want to do anything like that to you unless you wanted it. It’s okay to say no.”
Yamamoto realized he was trembling, something he couldn’t stop, but Yara didn’t say anything else, just held him close until everything felt right again.
cold autumn morning → Yara/Yamamoto, Tron!AU (Part of the Butoukan plotline in the same verse as this)
The leaves were just beginning to die and Yamamoto wished he’s brought a heavier jacket. He doesn’t even know why he’s here, just that there had been a note on his locker that morning, telling him the exact coordinates of the new meeting place.
He felt a little off balance, walking on real rocks and dirt and grass. It wasn’t that he spent that much time on the Grid, but that’s where this had all been contained before. Yara had been part of the games, part of the pure existence of the Grid, while the outside world was messy and confusing, chaos unending.
And yet here Yamamoto was, on a fading September’s morning, because Yara had asked him to.
The park was deserted at this time of day and it was easy to find the man. He was just as Yamamoto should have known he’d be, just like his avatar, just like he was outside of the gridsuits. Real, though, which had somehow never occurred to Yamamoto before. He couldn’t help but stand there and stare for several moments before Yara looked up from his book, smiling as he saw Yamamoto. At least he was dressed warmly in fleece and a windbreaker.
“Hey kid, glad you came,” he said, and yeah, that voice, it couldn’t have been anyone else. Yara patted the bench next to him. “A certain someone’s got big plans and he thinks you’re just the right kid for the job. Interested?”
Yamamoto didn’t even have to think about it, scrambling into the seat next to Yara with a “Yessir!”
red and orange and gold → Yara/Yamamoto, canonfic
Most mornings, Yamamoto never saw the sunrise, preferring the company of his favorite pillow and a blanket pulled over his head. Even if he was awake that early in the morning, he tended to be doing something, like running to get coffee and trying to avoid being late to work - either separately or simultaneously.
But there were those days. They didn’t happen that often, because sleep, but that added an extra touch of special when they did. Those special little moments when they retreated from everything else.
“Hey,” Yara said, voice rough with sleep, shaking at Yamamoto’s shoulder. “Come on, you’ve got to see this.”
Groaning, Yamamoto tried to tunnel into his pillow, muttering unintelligibly that there was no reason to be awake before noon on vacation, but Yara was still at his shoulder and he gave in, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
The curtains had been drawn and the sea lay before them, covered in a layer of fog as the sun rose, red and orange and gold and glorious, above it.
“Good morning,” Yara grinned, sprawling out on the bed beside him as they watched the sun rise until the fog was no more.
Tension → Yara/Yamamoto/human!Chura, Circus!AU (Circus AU! I've always wanted to actually write a circus AU. And Chura too, because Yamaryo loves her and she is fabulous. ♥)
Yamamoto had been with the circus for years, but he had never actually spoken to the man in the mask who flew on the trapezes above him. He was just a tightrope walker, an exciting piece for the children, but easily forgettable when the man in the mask appeared with his partner, a lithe, strong woman dressed in silver to contrast with his gold.
Cobra, he was called on stage and Yamamoto didn’t actually know his real name. Her name was Chura and she was the loveliest of all the women in the circus. He was entrancing, captivating as he defied gravity and danced on the bars above Yamamoto.
Yamamoto didn’t know why he cared so much, he had never seen the man in the mask outside of the ring. The circus was vast, its own city of chaos, and he knew there were parts of it that he’d never see or understand. The man in the mask was one of them.
But it didn’t stop him from wanting.
So every night, as Cobra and Chura flew through the air, he walked across the rope, hoping every time he’d be able to reach just a little higher, to get just a little closer to where they were.
handwritten letters → (implied someone/)Yamamoto, Tamamori, AU (Previous character death. It's intended to be Yara, but you can imagine it to be whoever you want it to be.)
Yamamoto smoothed his fingertips over the worn paper, smiling down at the faded writing. It wasn’t the most beautifully crafted epistle - the writing was untidy, the paper was plain - but he handled it with the utmost care.
It wasn’t the first time Tamamori had seen the letters, but it was the first time Yamamoto had even tried to explain what they meant to him. Even now, he visibly struggled with it.
“This was…” he stopped, his eyes misting. “This was the last letter he sent. It was… October. He died three days later. The day before they ended the war.”
Tamamori normally distanced him from such raw displays of emotion, putting up barriers to avoid being sucked in, but Yamamoto was small and fragile and sad, his hands trembling as he tried to tell Tamamori the truth, for the very first time.
“We’d always hoped… after the war was over, we could tell everyone. This was his,” Yamamoto whispered, touching the ring he wore around his neck. “We’d… we’d made all those plans and then he never came home.”
That was a pain that Tamamori didn’t understand. There was no word of comfort he could offer Yamamoto, no phrase that could make this all better, because this was something that would never get better. So instead, he pulled Yamamoto close and let him cry on his shoulder.
hot chocolate → Yara/Yamamoto, Starchild!AU (From the Starchild!AU)
The city is still deserted when Yara finds a place for them to stay. It’s a hotel two blocks down, but it’s got the perfect lookout and it appears to be fully stocked. Neither of them felt that bad in raiding the kitchens and supply rooms, not after what they’d been through.
Ryouta had already nested in the first room they could get open, having piled several comforters together and settled himself right in the center. Yara couldn’t help but smile as he handed over the mug of hot chocolate, watching as Ryouta curled his hands around it, breathing in the steam.
“Chocolate was one of your best creations,” he sighed, scooting over to make room for Yara on the pile of blankets. The stars in his eyes glowed contentedly.
“Any idea where we are?” Yara asked as he joined him. The fact that this place was a perfectly built city, there was no reason for it to be so empty. Nothing out of place, no bodies or blood, just… empty. It wasn’t even that eerie.
“It’s… not where I meant,” Ryouta admitted. “But this is like an abandoned green room for a certain… well, you might think of him as a god. We should be fine unless they have some sort of security. I can’t jump us very far for a while though, so it’ll be a bit before I can get us around more… people.”
Yara was okay with that. People had tried to separate them every step of the way, kidnapping Ryouta, throwing Yara in jail. They needed time to recover, to heal. He was okay with it just being the two of them for a little while. Hell, they could wait here until Yonehana, Machida, and Tatsumi came looking for them, for all he cared.
For now, this was what they needed, he thought as he watched Ryouta sip at his hot chocolate. This was perfect.
drug(s) → Yara/Yamamoto, Takizawa/Fujigaya, Gunslinger!AU (this is an AU based off of Gunslinger Girl's anime. Yara is Yamaryo's handler ('older brother').)
Yamamoto was alone as he waited outside the lab, waiting for his time. It was the beginning of a new conditioning cycle for all of them, but Fujigaya always took the longest. Nikaido was nowhere to be seen and Takaki had wandered out to the gardens an hour ago. So Yamamoto sat alone, waiting.
He didn’t like this period of time, where he had to be alone. He was almost never alone, either with one of the other mods or his handler. Usually his handler. But Yara wasn’t allowed to come the lab anymore.
It was the conditioning. Yara hated the conditioning cycle more than he hated paperwork and bad coffee, he’d told Yamamoto once, and Yamamoto shifted uneasily.
The process of conditioning the mods - short for modified - was complicated. Yamamoto automatically understood it, something the process instilled in him, but it was harder for Yara to understand. “I don’t want to watch you die a second time,” Yara had snapped the last time they’d talked about it, six months ago. Yamamoto hadn’t even tried to point out that he hadn’t even died the first time. Conditioning was vital for a mod to function, to handle the demands given by the Agency and their individual handlers. It was how their cybernetics were kept in working order.
But it was also a slow poison.
“Yamamoto-kun?” Takizawa appeared beside him, giving him a warm smile. “You look a bit lost in thought.”
“It’s nothing,” Yamamoto muttered, getting to his feet. Takizawa being here meant that Fujigaya would be done soon. Sure enough, the door opened a moment later, one of the doctors guiding Fujigaya out of the lab with the greatest of care.
“Ah….” Fujigaya smiled, all soft and vague and nothing like what Fujigaya was really like, but this was what happened with the conditioning process. Nikaido had whispered that last time they’d tried to condition Fujigaya, he’d stopped breathing. While all the mods needed conditioning, they had discovered that it shorted a mod’s lifespan significantly. While they had scaled back on the drugs used in the process, the damage had already been done to Fujigaya.
Yamamoto didn’t think about what that meant. He just knew this was why Yara never came anymore. He wasn’t allowed to, the Director had forbidden it. Because he hated what it did to the mods. What it did to Yamamoto.
“Yamamoto-kun, please come in,” the doctor said, gesturing inside. Yamamoto stepped inside the sterile environment and looked at the hospital bed, grimacing.
Maybe Yara was rubbing off on him.
Maybe he was starting to hate it too.
sweat/shower → Ren/Yamamoto, IDN!AU (Prelude to more sexy-times... Don't ask. The dance boys were in the first episode of IDN. 8X I think TamaRyo is cool, okay.)
Yamamoto grinned as he walked into the shower. Ren had only just started showering, still in his sweats and underwear as he stood under the stream. Despite the attire, he looked great. Yamamoto had a thing for brooding men with sharp eyes and great hips.
“Motherfucker,” the man snapped in alarm, when he realized he wasn’t alone. “Freak, get out of here.”
“Why?” Yamamoto asked, impudently, daringly. Everyone knew what happened when you crossed Ren, but Yamamoto liked the game, playing with risk and chance and loaded dice. Ren could have gotten him dismissed months ago.
“Could you at least shut the curtain,” Ren grumbled, already defeated as he turned away, stepping back under the water.
“That’s weird,” Yamamoto said, more bluntly now that he knew what mood Ren was in. “The pants,” he added as he shut the curtain and joined Ren under the water. “I think I’m going to do something about that,” he continued on, palming at Ren’s cock. “Or we can just do it like this, I guess.”
“Goddammit.”
Cinderella → Yara/Yamamoto, Castle!AU (Cinderella will always be Castle!AU to me. Set after this)
“You do know I refused the betrothal for you, don’t you?” Yara asked, chuckling in amusement.
It was summer, balmy and pleasant, and they were out on the balcony again, in a tangle of blankets and stargazing.
“I…” Yamamoto’s voice caught in his throat and he stared up at the shimmering sky for a moment in wordless contemplation. “No… I mean. I thought. Hoped, even.”
“I did,” Yara said, rolling to his side so he could press a kiss to Yamamoto’s temple. “I couldn’t do it after you left. Not after I had figured everything out.” He paused for a moment and then asked, “Why is it you didn’t come back after you found out? Surely you had heard about it months before.”
Yamamoto pursed his lips. He hadn’t been back so long that his exile had been forgotten. “I… I didn’t want to assume anything. I mean, I thought you thought I was just some woman and… well, who am I to a princess or a noble lady? They can do everything I can and can’t and more.”
“Idiot,” Yara growled, voice rough with affection as he nipped at Yamamoto’s bare shoulder. “Sure, I’m sure they’d let me know if I look daft in Fujigaya’s creations and go racing with me up the mountains if we wanted and love me with all the passion I’d need, but,” he paused, moving so he was leaning over Yamamoto, eyes sparkling even in the dim light.
“None of that would matter if it wasn’t you.”