Golden Sun kink meme, round 2.

[purplepimphats]

Well, the old one has served us well, but it's two years old there's a new game out and hopefully this will bring in a whole bunch more activity.



the usual rules apply.
-The only wank with want is the sexy kind. Leave pairing wars, name wars, and kink wankery at the door, please.

-one request per comment.

-not everyone has played Dark Dawn yet, so make sure to label anything with spoilers in the title of the comment.

-you can use the Japanese names and pairing names when making requests, but make sure you put the English names in parentheses for those who aren't in the know about them.

-if you prefer Japanese names, you can stipulate in your request that you'd prefer them, or fill with them.

-a list of kinks to get you started.

-there's no limit on requests at the moment, but the meme will die out if no one fills too, so in general there's a big suggestion of 'if you can, fill for request you make.' However we know that not everyone is a writer or artist, so if you're just here to read, then don't think you can't make requests too.

-just because this is a kink meme doesn't mean PG-13 and under fics can't come play too.

A new posting rule applies. If you want to fill out an old request from the past meme, copy it over and fill it here, but leave a comment at the old meme, so if the op has it tracked, they can find it again.

Comments

A Helping Hand: Revised 3/?

[(Anonymous)]

It worked. That was one of the many reasons why he liked spending time with Garet; he was willing to forgive and forget, regardless of what he did. Or maybe he had an incredibly selective attention span. He blinked, feigning stupidity. “What package?”

Isaac deadpanned, “I live here, you know. And it’s hard to miss that box located near the front door.” He pointed at that general direction where, lo and behold, a box was positioned behind a barrel. He affixed him with a flat stare, “I see that you’re still terrible at hiding things.”

Garet rolled his eyes and walked over to it. “Shut up.” When he returned with it in his arms, Isaac was seated behind the table again. He bristled, “I thought we agreed that—“

“Lighten up,” he said, “This is the only table big enough for it.”

Garet idly scanned the room, attempting to look like an upholstery consultant, and rubbed his chin, “’M yes, good sir. I must say that this place is quite a dump.”

Isaac laughed, “Hey, if you want another one, build it yourself.”

“I did. You know what happened last time.”

“Refresh my memory. I tend to forget things easily,” he lied.

“One word: Tyrell.”

Isaac paused. “Burst into flames?”

“Yeah.” Garet snorted. “Kid’s got passion, but he needs self-control. Now if only someone other than his own father helped with that…” He juggled the package between his hands.

“Matthew’s not ready to teach,” Isaac replied, purposely missing the point, and chuckled slightly as Garet fumbled with the box at that unintelligent response.

He grumbled something to himself before yelling, “Catch!” and hurling it at Isaac. Considering that he was still exhausted, he didn’t react in time and fell over with a groan when it connected with his face.

Oh, right. I forgot he was still tired.

---

After casting Cure on himself again, while scowling at a sheepish Garet, Isaac placed the package on the table. Garet helped by pushing some papers back to make some room for it, not without Isaac nagging at him.

“Don’t mix them up.”

“Yes, mother.”

Rubbing his newly bruised shoulder courtesy of a certain blond, Garet pulled a chair and positioned it backwards, crossing his arms on the headrest as he took a seat opposite to Isaac. He stared at the agonizingly slow process of unpeeling that Isaac was doing and made an offhand comment about him treating it as if it was a newborn baby.

Isaac replied with a mature “Shut up” followed up with an “Unlike you, I want to conserve” at which Garet looked at him strangely. Isaac crumpled the wrapping and tossed it at his head; it bounced off harmlessly.

He blinked.

“Ale?” Isaac asked after unraveling two bottles wrapped in a familiar off-red cloth. He slowly removed it, held it by one end, and snapped it to the side to rid it of the wrinkles. Garet curiously watched on as the gears in Isaac’s head started to work again. In his hands was Jenna’s old dress, and a warm smile spread across the blond’s face before he unceremoniously pressed it against his face, reveling in her scent.

Garet playfully made vomiting noises in the background.

Isaac glowered at him and carefully placed it in a nearby chest. Upon returning to his seat, Garet dryly said, “Subtle.” The blond rolled his eyes and read the contents of a small note that was placed between the bottles:

Garet told me what was going on and I agree. You need to relax. If not, just humor him, please? Even though you’re my husband, he’s still my friend and I care about him too, and both of us worrying about you won’t be worthwhile if nothing good comes from it.

-Jenna

P.S. Your bottle’s the one with the red label.

Below that was a badly drawn caricature of what he assumed to be Jenna in a provocative pose, or the Doom Dragon suffering from an aneurysm. He couldn’t tell. He also felt the inklings of guilt in the recesses of his of mind again.

“You cared enough to actually ask for help even when you never do so for most other reasons?” He stood quietly, disappointed in himself. He honestly had no idea that it had affected Garet that much. Isaac apologized again, “I’m sorry for making you worry.”

No response.