#Sans as a child would HATE DOING CHORES

[maiuoart]

Hi, hello, some little Swapfell Red Past brain rot for you all...

Think of it; Lil'Sansy, only 7 years old, walks outside to see his neighbor with a HUGE belly try doing some hard laboring things or even just trying to lean down to get something she dropped... Looks damn stupid, whatever it is- Sans is full of piss and vinegar and decides he's going to go right over there and give her a piece of his mind! She's a walking target with such a huge belly and slow paces- Obviously she's going to be a target outside if anyone walks by!

He marches right up to this poor, struggling Rabbit monster, who has the biggest stomach he's EVER SEEN yet- And he huffs and says;

"HEY! Lady! Why are you so fat for!? What're ya doing outside?! You don't need to try to be a target if THATs what you're doing." Sans huffed, trying to act tough.

The Rabbit monster turns, a little stunned and blinked at this small monster... Only to start laughing.

"Eh?! Are you dumb too, Lady?! What the hell are you laughing at?!" Sans huffs, growling up at this Monster. How dare she!!

"My, you sure gotten your fangs early, didn't you?" She laughs even more. "Most kids your age don't get such venom until they're out of their stripes... How old are you, Hunny?"

Sans is so taken off guard from this lady- She's treating him so nicely??? No, it's a trick! A trick!

"None of your business, ya old hag!" Sans barks, his magic sparking some in mock intimidation. "What're ya doing out here with such a damn fat belly, huh?! Exercise inside, you moron!"

The rabbit monster, though fails, tries to erase the smile on her own fangs. She looks at him before looking at her belly and gently rubs it, gaining Sans attention.

"I am pregnant, Hunny." She says in such a soft, motherly tone; Patiences only for such a young monster.

Sans blinks, not understanding what that word means...

"Pregnant?" He mimics. "The hell does that mean?"

"It means I am with little babies in my belly!" She beams at him so happily. "Would you like to feel them? They're starting to kick now, haha. You must've startled them."

Sans gives her the most incredulous look...

"You-... You have BABIES in your BELLY?!" Sans balks in horror. "DID YOU EAT THEM?! HOW EVIL ARE YOU?!"

The Rabbit monster bursts out laughing harder-

"Ohhhh, I am the MOST eviliest Rabbit in our section, Deary!" She began to show her sharp features at the young Sans, making her claws do the 'ooooo, so spooky' wiggles... "I eat kids like YOU, adding you to my BELLY COLLECTION! MWAH-HAH-HAH!"

Sans flinched hard, ready to head back to the house in fear-

"sorri, Lady-" Papyrus voice came groggily, a hand on his little brother's shoulder. "can't let ya eat em ta add ta yer collection... he's a lil'too spicy fer ya ta handle, m'afraid."

"AHK! Dammit, Papy!!" Sans turned, smacking his brothers hand off him. "Don't you sneak up on me like that- AND I WOULDN'T LET HER EAT ME AT ALL!!!"

"hope bro didn't botha ya too much?" Papyrus moved his hand to his brothers skull, instincts slowly pushing Sans behind him some.

"Oh, no no, none at all! He's such a fireball, he reminds me of my own son when he was that young, ironically." The rabbit monster smiled fondly only to rub the back of her head. "I couldn't pass up this opportunity to tease him, does he not know how rabbit monsters reproduce?"

"ah, well... we both don't, actually..." Papyrus chuckled, looking at Sans who was now puffing his cheeks out and crossing his arms.

"Oh? Oh, dear... Well, that explains a lot! Haha... I'm Ruka, it's nice to meet you boys." She spoke with such warmth in her tone, offering Papyrus her paw in a handshake.

"oh-... uh-... Papyrus." He said hesitantly, his bone brow raised as he took her hand and shook it. "this's Mugsly-"

"SANS!" He growled out. "Don't you say such stupid, random ass names... And Dad told you not to shake strangers hands!"

"Not a stranger anymore when you exchange names-" Ruka gave Sans a wink. "Sans, right?"

"Ah-... AH!! BROTHER, YOU JERK!" Sans stomped his foot before trying to punch his brother in the back. "You're suppose to be PROTECTING ME!"

"easy, easy-" Papyrus laughed, holding him back by his skull and looking to Ruka. "ya see th'shit I gotta deal wit', Ruka? he abuses m' s'much, haha..."

"Ohhhh, such a handful, I bet..." Ruke chuckled into her paw. "Well... Sans, how about we try again? I'm Ruka, and the reason why my belly is so big is because it's full of unborn babies who will be due soon. And because I have so many, it's very tough for me to move around... I do thank you for being so sweet to tell me I would be a target, even though I was a stranger to you before."

Sans felt his cheeks flush- He wasn't WORRIED over her! How dare she think that- He just- UGH! THIS MONSTER!

"Did you know rabbit monsters are the fastest to reproduce in the Queens Section?" She began, that smiling staying on her face. "And we are to produce the strongest little bunnies for her Majesty... Only the purest Monsters can make up for the Love, Compassion, and Kindness that was forcefully taken from us by the Humans we all rightfully hate."

Sans tensed up, but gave her an odd look... "You-... You don't consider us humans?..."

"Why would I?" Ruka tilted her head some. "You both are obviously not humans... I've never seen their bones walk! It's usually a sign that they've died!" She smiled warmly.

Both of the brothers relaxed for once... Many don't tend to see them like that; Other monsters had ridiculed them for being what they are, despite the obvious powers they possess and the soul that thrums in their chest.

"So... You-... Make babies and they form in your belly?" Sans spoke with caution, careful to step towards Ruka yet held his brothers pant leg in his new nerves. "...How do you do it? What process do you take? And uhm... You said they were-... M-moving?"

Ruka beamed at Sans new curiosity, nodding with pride. "Yes! Here, you boys are free to feel them move; Ahg- They kick like the dickens..." She groaned to a particularly heavy kick.

Papyrus watched as Sans was the first to make the move; Slowly, Hesitantly, Sans reached... Kept looking up at Ruka, like this was still some sort of a trick, that maybe she would turn and do-... Something no sooner he would touch her.

As Sans little hand rested on Rukas stomach, he shut his sockets tight; Waiting for anything to happen...

...Thump...

Sans sockets fluttered open as he felt movement indeed hit his hand. Quick to look at Ruka in amazement, Ruka only smiled back that tender smile reserved only for mothers to give.

Sans and Papyrus learned many things that day; How many a Rabbit could produce in one setting, how many times they could get pregnant within the year, and how long they have their youngest until they were taken either for the Queens Army or for more potential Mothers...

The boys became fond over Ruka after the next few weeks; Sans always made sure to go over and help the Soon-to-be-Mother(again) with anything she needed help with. All the chores, dinner preparations, and learned quite a few tricks with detail cleaning and hacks Ruka loved to do with particularly hard stains...

General Li and Alphys were soon introduced; Quickly enjoying the rabbits company in this small community they lived in. It was hard to find such kind natured Monsters, harder yet to find a like-minded family so close that the kids all got along...

Or, mostly got along.

But, like all things...

It wouldn't last much longer.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

S/O bought a Roomba,

taped a knife to it,

gave it a name tag with the name ‘Mr Stabby’,

and set it loose.

(main boys, please)

Love your stories!

Undertale Sans - One day you don't find your Roomba and discover Sans took it for a walk only to get a reaction out of the people in the street. He can't get over Mr Stabby. It's his new pet and his best friend.

Undertale Papyrus - He adds googly eyes on the Roomba so it looks even more ridiculous doing its task. It makes his brain happy to watch it clean the house while carrying its little knife. And it prevents him from doing chores he doesn't want to do. His ADHD is satisfied.

Underswap Sans - He's not sure what to think of Mr Stabby. First of all, he never saw a Roomba before and it scared the hell out of him the first time he saw it. But now? Now this poor thing looks ridiculous. It's small with a knife bigger than him. Who is it going to scare? If you wanted a guard dog... Adopt a guard dog???

Underswap Papyrus - He replaces the knife with a flower every time he sees it and now it's a daily battle between you two over Mr Stabby or Mr Flower. Come on, the Roomba is clearly cuter with a little flower, why would you tape a knife on it? The battle became so intense you're both using super strong tape to discourage the other now.

Underfell Sans - The thing is staring at him. Menacingly. Red hates it. Somehow, the Roomba cornered him and now he's shooting distressed glances towards his S/O. Help? The hell is this thing? He doesn't want it inside his house, get rid of it! He's going to have quite a few jumpscares in the next few days. He really doesn't like it.

Underfell Papyrus - He calls it Hellbringer. Now he has two weapons of massive destruction by his side. You cringe as he starts to laugh maniacally like an epic villain, carrying both his cat and the Roomba above his head. Ok....

Horrortale Sans - He's in a corner, growling at the Roomba. The thing surprised him while he was napping and now he distrusts it completely. Still, the Roomba refuses to hear his warning and comes closer. So Oak picks up the Roomba and explodes it in the wall lol. Rip Roomba.

Horrortale Papyrus - He didn't pay attention and accidentally walked on the Roomba... And on the knife. Now he's looking at you with sad offended eyes. You did that to him, feel guilty now! He's too tall to always watch where his feet are going!

Swapfell Sans - He refuses to get down the couch. This is witchcraft. He didn't touch the Roomba and it still activated on its own. This is some supernatural shit. Every time the Roomba gets close, he hisses angrily and tries to jump higher on the couch out of fear the thing will attack him. It's not funny! You still wonder how that coward is somehow the general of the royal guard.

Swapfell Papyrus - It's hilarious! He quickly understands the power of the Roomba on his brother and he keeps using it to traumatize him. His favorite thing is to hide it under Nox's bed, waiting for his brother to come in, and then activate it just to hear Nox's screams of panic as he tries to escape the evil robot. He will never get tired of this. His dream is to send Evil Roomba on live TV during a meeting with Toriel to see his brother freak out and the Queen completely panic over the reaction of her main counselor.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He's not impressed. He simply glares at you in a silent "Are you serious?" way. This thing looks ridiculous. The next day, he tells you he fix it. Mr Stabby is now covered with barbed wire and has a chainsaw. He even added an autodestruction device so he could explode in the face of the enemy. Uh. You're not sure about that feature honestly.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He met Mr Stabby for ten seconds but if something happens to him, he's going to kill everyone in the room and then himself. He insists Mr Stabby sleeps with you two in bed as it's obvious it's your adopted child. You never knew the Roomba was that big before you had to sleep with it. Coffee is very happy though.

[discount-shades]

Contract Spouse Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Living the Lie 

A/N: to quote M*A*S*H “War isn’t Hell. War is war, and Hell is Hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse.”

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning:  Angst, war, PTSD, civilian deaths, child death, nightmares

Length: 2100 ish

Summary: Jake and Pip settle into living together.

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Two weeks after you had settled into Jake's house in San Diego you were on the phone with Sami. Your almost daily phone calls with Jake had been replaced by phone calls to Sami. You look up from the pasta you were stirring on the stove as Jake walks through the side door. He goes to greet you but cuts himself off when he sees you are on the phone.

“Who is it?” You read his lips as he mouths the question and you mouth the answer back. “Hi Sami,” he calls out.

“Jake says hi,” you say with a resigned sigh. Relaying a conversation between the two siblings when you were on the phone with Jake had started very soon after the wedding and now that you were living with Jake, the habit had immediately resumed in reverse and you had long since given up trying to get them to talk to each other. Jake now sports a smile identical to the one Sami always had on her face during these conversations. 

When you finally hang up the phone you roll your eyes at Jake. “You guys are ridiculous, I hate you both.” 

“No you don’t,” he grins as he heads to his room to change out of his work clothes “You love us.” 

“That's the problem.” You mumble to yourself as you dump the pasta into a serving dish and set the table before sitting down to dinner.

“I got two more quotes on redoing the roof,” you tell Jake between bites of alfredo. “I think we should go with the second, they’re more expensive but have better reviews and can begin sooner.” 

“Whatever you think is best.” Jake shrugs, relieved you had taken over the repairs he had been too busy to arrange.

“And the contractor for the hot water tank called, he had a cancellation and can come replace ours tomorrow.” Jake just nods in confirmation and you fight a sigh.

The house that Jake had bought a few months ago, though overall in good shape, had needed a few updates and you had quickly taken over organizing them. Talking about hiring contractors over dinner makes you feel more married than you have ever felt before. The monotony of cohabitation made slipping into the rhythm of life together automatic. 

Living with Jake was easy. You worked together seamlessly, easily dividing household chores and responsibilities. Chatting in the evenings, watching tv, or just sitting in silence reading. The two of you just fit together. He had even tolerated you reorganizing every drawer and shelf in the common spaces with minimal cursing over not being able to find things.

Life continues in the same thread. You and Jake grocery shopping, going for walks, cooking, and doing dishes, just easily living together. But as time went on you were finding it harder and harder. 

Everyday you had to stifle your imagination as you pictured him coming through the door and giving you a kiss. The little part in your heart that you could never squish down was still hoping that one day Jake would look at you and fall in love. 

The logical part tried to keep your breathing steady when Jake would brush past you in the kitchen. Tried to keep you from melting into his touch when he placed his hand on your lower back when you were walking together in public. Tried to keep from staring when you were together. 

It didn’t help that Jake frequently walks around without his shirt. Whether it was first thing in the morning, after a shower, or after a run. You loved and hated it. When you said goodnight and went to your separate rooms you wanted to follow him into the master bedroom and finally end your embarrassingly long dry spell. You should have hooked up with your cute neighbor in your final days in Austin. Maybe that would have made things easier. 

– – – 

“Jake,” your voice startles him out of his sleep. He can hear you tapping gently on his door before easing it open. “We have a problem.” 

“What's wrong?” he mumbles sleepily as he sits up in bed, squinting in the hall light shining through the open door. The rain from earlier is still lightly falling outside. “What time is it?”

“It’s a little after midnight, The roof is leaking.” You tell him, hair pulled up into a sloppy bun and pillow creases on your cheek. “I woke up in a puddle, it's coming through the light fixture above the bed.”

Jake mumbles curses. He had been sleeping soundly and would have likely been able to sleep the whole night if the roof hadn’t leaked. He helps you move the bed and set up a big rubbermaid bin under the leak to catch the dripping water while you strip the wet bedding off the mattress and throw it in the bathtub. You flip the breaker and he carefully removes the light so the water can fall directly into the bin without pooling, you dutifully hold the flashlight.

After you follow him into the attic to see where the leak is. Fortunately it is only in one spot and the rain has slowed to a stop. Using the towels you had so neatly organized, you help him mop up all the water you can. You place another bin under the main leak but it has slowed to a drip. Working next to you in the dimly lit attic, Jake realizes he never would have noticed the leak so soon if not for you.

“When are they supposed to fix the roof?” Jake asks you.

“Monday,” you say sadly and he sighs. “If you leave all the information for me I’ll call the insurance company tomorrow.”

He follows you down the ladder with the wet towels and throws them into the washing machine. You follow with the towels from your room. Your teeth chattering and he looks at you for the first time and notices that your pajamas are soaking wet.

“Pip you're going to get sick, go change.” You roll your eyes at him but comply and grab a dry pair of pajamas and head to the bathroom so you can leave your wet ones in the tub. When you come out of the bathroom he meets you in the hall. “I dumped the bin in your room, we should be good to go back to sleep.” You nod but don't follow him; grabbing your pillow you turn to go into the living room. 

“Where are you going?”

“The couch.” You stare at him in confusion. “My mattress is soaked.”

“Yeah but mine's not.” You stand there staring at him and he suddenly feels like he has overstepped. The look in your eye is unreadable but you just agree quietly and follow him. When he reaches the bed and you crawl in beside him he feels his stomach clench. He can't remember the last time he slept next to someone, it's been years, definitely before the nightmares started. What if he moves and hits you, or says something he doesn’t want you to hear?

It’s awkward. As soon as he lies down beside you he feels the need to move and eases himself over to his other side. He can hear you rolling over when he does. You don’t say anything but he can tell you are tense. Maybe he shouldn't have insisted you share his bed. “Do you want to build a pillow wall?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You roll over again and he can feel your eyes on him. “Good night Jake.” 

“Goodnight.” You stop moving but he can tell you are not asleep by your breathing. He listens and tries not to move but he can’t sleep if you are awake. He feels the bed shift every time you move and shuffle your feet. He stares into the dark hyper aware of you beside him, pretending to sleep before he finally breaks the silence. “Are you awake?” 

“Yeah.”

“Can’t sleep?” 

“My feet are cold,” you tell him. “I can’t sleep with cold feet.”

Jake bites back a sigh and says the thing he doesn’t want to do. “You can put them on me.”

Your soft laugh almost makes it worthwhile. “I don’t think you mean that,” you counter. And he reaches down to feel your feet and immediately regrets his decision when he feels how icy they are. 

“Come on,” he says resignedly and urges you to roll over so you can press your feet to his warm legs. When you settle he finds himself focusing on your cold toes to distract himself from the warmth coming from your body lying beside him. 

As your feet warm he can feel the tension leave you as you relax into sleep, your breath slowing and evening out and soon he finds himself drifting off as well. 

– – – 

Maverick is carrying a lifeless Rooster in his arms. He is standing in the desert. Rubble and fire from a destroyed building around him. Blood is dripping down Rooster's extended arm and steadily falling from his fingertips and onto the dry sand. Jake stands, blood pounding in his ears with every drop that hits the ground. Maverick is speaking to him in a language he can't understand, repeating the same phrase. 

When he realizes it’s weird to see Maverick cradling Rooster so easily everything seems to blur  and when it clears there is now a father holding his young son in front of him. The boy's eyes are open and staring blankly at the sky. The man speaks but it is Maverick's voice he hears, “You shot at the wrong time, his death is your fault Hangman.” The man advances towards him brandishing the body of his dead son repeating the words in Maverick’s voice, becoming angrier and more grief-stricken with every repetition as Jake retreats, his heart pounding, unable to escape.

– – – 

“No!” Jake sits up gasping. His heart is hammering wildly as he tries to breathe. He feels like there is a weight on his chest, contracting his lungs and keeping his ribcage from expanding. The image of the boy burned into his retinas. 

“Jake?” The soft sound of your voice startles him and he flinches when he sees you move before pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Trying to rub away what he saw. Your hand is hesitant as it brushes against his back, gently moving and pressing his t-shirt into his sweat soaked skin. He wants to tell you to stop, that he doesn’t deserve comfort after what he did. He wants to get up and leave, but he doesn't. He just sits there frozen and focuses on the feeling of your warm hand smoothing over his spine as his breathing steadies. When the chill sets in he strips off the sweaty shirt and lies back down on his back.

“Nightmare?” you ask quietly already knowing the answer. He nods even though he is not sure you can see him. He’s told you about the nightmares, never why or what he sees but you know he has trouble sleeping. You're the only one who knows. 

You lie on your side and he can feel your eyes in the dark. Unable to rub his back you place your hand on his chest and resume the relaxing motion. But the feel of your hand on his bare chest is too much and he stops you, flattening your hand to his heart. When you go to pull away he reaches up with his other hand and clutches your wrist, unwilling to let you go.

“Don’t go.” The words slip out before he can stop them and he clenches his jaw to keep from speaking more. He can feel you nod you head beside him. You slowly begin flexing your fingers and he relaxes the hand flattening yours and you begin to gently scratch his chest with your finger tips. He finally lets out a shuddering breath and shifts his grip on your wrist so he can feel your steady pulse. 

“Breath with me,” you whisper. “Focus on my breaths.” he lies beside you and listens to you breathe and focuses on the feeling of your warm hand pressed to his heart and the gentle caress of your finger tips. He feels the butterfly kiss of your lips on his shoulder and his skin burns. Your soft breaths moves over his skin and his heart aches.

When your fingers stop moving he knows you are asleep but doesn’t let go of your hand, eventually he falls into a dreamless sleep listening to your soft breaths. 

[cherrycola27]

Whoever's in Lemoore

Hello, loves! I wrote this for @roosterforme 's #tgmrocktober challenge!

This fic is based on the Reba McEntire song "Whoever's in New England"

Warnings: Language, cheating, pregnancy and related complications. Angst

...........................................

Bob Floyd was the best husband you could have ever asked for. He was kind, smart, hard-working, and attentive.

You were an elementary teacher, and Bob was a WSO. The two of you probably never would have met, had your best friend Jennifer "Boston" Lyons not set the two of you up. The two of you grew up together, and Jeni was a member of Bob's squadron in Lemoore.

Unfortunately, when Bob was called back to Top Gun and then eventually given a permanent station in San Diego, you had to leave her behind, but it was fine. You two had always made a long-distance friendship work. Honestly, it had helped prepare you for the times that your husband was deployed.

You were thankful though, that with his new station, deployments would be less frequent.

After buying a house and settling down, the two of you decided to start trying for children. Bob had three siblings, and while you didn't have any, both of you agreed on the fact that you wanted at least three kids.

You both also knew how stressful it could be on a couple when trying for children, so you decided to stop taking your birth control and have fun for a year. If you got pregnant, great, if not, after a year, the two of you would get serious, start tracking cycles, and see a specialist if needed.

You had really hoped that each month, you'd get a positive pregnancy test, but month after month, they came up negative.

Bob was extremely supportive of you, and after a year, the two of you buckled down. You tracked your cycle, both of you watched your diet, and you even saw a fertility doctor who assured you that both of you were healthy and to give it time.

Give it time.

You tried to give it time, you really did. But you were so desperate to be a mother that it started to take a toll on you, Bob, and your marriage.

Suddenly, trying for a baby wasn't as fun as it once was. Sex became more of a chore rather than a thing of enjoyment.

But finally—finally you and Bob got the miracle you'd been hoping for. Only, you seemed to be more excited about it than he was.

You chalked it up to shock.

Unfortunately, pregnancy was not easy for you. Early on, you were diagnosed with hyperemesis gravidarum, which caused you to experience dehydration and a short hospital stay. Your blood pressure was also dangerously high, and your blood sugar wasn't at a level that the doctors were happy with.

Which is why, at sixteen weeks, you were put on bed rest until your child was born.

It was hard for both of you. You couldn't eat or sleep. You were moody and irritable. You libido was also in the toilet. You hated your life, but you knew it would all be worth it.

At first, Bob seemed so supportive, but as time passed, be became cold and distant.

Looking at it now, you can pinpoint where the cracks in the foundation of your marriage started. If only you'd seen them sooner.

................

"Honey, I'm home." Bob called as he entered the kitchen. You were sitting on the couch watching TV. It was late. Almost 8pm. You had already eaten dinner, showered and changed into some comfy clothes.

You offered Bob a weak hello as he came in the door. He'd been getting home from work later and later.

In the darkest part of your mind, you thought the worst—that he had someone else. But he wouldn't do that to you. He was your Robby. You were carrying his son for crying out loud.

On a particularly bad day, you asked him about it. He was almost heartbroken that you could even think that.

He soothed your worries by telling you, "I'm working on important things for our future. I'm an officer on his way up. I'm trying to make sure you and the baby are taken care of." You believed him. You cried as you apologized to him.

"How's my favorite girl and my favorite little guy?" Bob asked as he came and kneeled in front of you on the couch. He pressed a few kisses to your stomach before moving to your lips.

"We are fine." You sighed as he trailed his lips across your jaw to your ear. "Fine? Is that so?" He whispered. His hot breath fanning across your skin.

Bob trailed one of his hands to the apex of your thighs before you stopped him.

"Bob, not tonight. I've been sick all day, and I've finally been able to keep something down." You told him with an apologetic smile.

He didn't say anything. He stood up, muttered something under his breath, and wordlessly went to shower.

You sat there and wept. You hated yourself. You felt like the worst wife on the planet.

Later that night, you tried to make it up to Bob, but you got sick halfway through. After you had puked your guts out, Bob had tried to hold you, but you didn't want to be touched. It led to an argument and him sleeping on the couch. What a Monday.

Tuesday, Bob came home and told you he'd be going to Lemoore Wednesday afternoon to help with a training workshop on Thursday and Friday and he would be back late Saturday evening.

"Again?" You sighed. "Bob, that's the third time this month! And you went several times the past two months. Doesn't Admiral Simpson understand that you have a pregnant wife at home who is high risk?" You ask him.

"I know, baby. I'm sorry, but just a few more weeks and everything will dial down. I promise." Bob said as he kissed your head and went to pack a bag.

The only thing you had to look forward to was that Jeni—or Boston, as she typically went by her call sign now, was supposed to visit this weekend.

However, se called you Wednesday night telling you that she was sick and wouldn't make it.

So, you spent the rest of the week alone, sulking, in your all too quiet house.

When Bob came home on Saturday, you were feeling good. The best you had in all thirty weeks of your pregnancy.

You made him his favorite dinner and greeted him at the door with a big kiss. He was more than happy to sit down and have a meal with you.

After dinner, you urged him to shower, with the hope that you'd be able to spend some sensual time together.

While he was showering, you grabbed his bag to unpack it and do some laundry.

As you were taking his clothes out, a feminine scent washed over your extra sensitive nose.

Perfume—and it wasn't yours. But you were sure you smelled it before, you just couldn't place it.

You shook your head before letting your mind wander. Bob worked with women, and he was friendly—one of them probably gave him a hug and was wearing a lot of perfume—it made sense. Bob wasn't that kind of guy.

You dismissed the feeling in your gut and started the washing machine.

A few minutes later, Bob's phone rang. You checked the caller ID only to see that Jeni—your best friend was calling him.

"Jeni?" You said as you answered the phone.

"Y/N!" She exclaimed, almost as if she was surprised to hear your voice.

"Jeni, why are you calling Bob?" You asked her. There was a long pause.

"Jeni—why are you calling my husband?" You ask, this time a little more forcefully.

"Oh, Y/N, it was supposed to be a surprise. I'm coming down at the end of the month because I was going to throw you a surprise baby shower, and Bob has been helping me with it." She tells you.

"Aww, Jeni, that's so sweet. Well, I'll have him call you back so I don't ruin anything else!" You cheer into the phone before hanging up.

"Why do you have my phone?" Bob asks you. You turn around, surprised to see him.

"Jeni—er—Boston, I guess, called you to talk about the baby shower that you're helping her plan. I'm sorry I ruined the surprise, but Robby, you're the sweetest!" You say as you wrap him in a hug.

"Baby shower—right." Bob breathes out. "Let me call her back." Bob says as he takes his phone. You leave to give him privacy, but before you can make it down the hall, you hear him speak in harsh, angry whispers. You hate that you ruined his surprise, but you wish he wouldn't be so hard om Jeni. It's not her fault.

Another week passes, and Bob becomes more distant from you. You hyperemesis gravidarum is acting up again and your mood is all over the place.

He's coming home from work later, and you can't help but wonder if something is amiss. But you dismiss it time and time again.

One Wednesday afternoon, you decide to surprise Bob on base with his favorite lunch.

You walk into the rec room where his fellow aviators are waiting and they look at you like you have three heads.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" Rooster asks you.

"I came to bring Bob some lunch. Where is he?" You ask them.

"Bob left early today. He said the two of you had some appointments this afternoon." Phoenix tells you.

In that moment, the world around you stops. The container of chicken pot pie and chocolate chip cookies slip from your hands and crash to the floor.

"Shit!" You exclaimed as you saw the mess you made.

"Y/N! Are you okay?" Hangman asks as he grabs some paper towels to clean up the mess.

"Yes, it's just I forgot, and I'm so late." You say as you turn on your heels to go to the hallway as you try to hold back tears.

"Y/N!" Phoenix calls after you. She intercepts you in the hallway.

"Is everything alright?" She asks you.

There's no point in lying.

"No. Nothing is alright. Between how hard this pregnancy has been and Bob having to go to Lemoore to teach classes, and him lying about where he is today. I think—I think he's having an affair." You finally admit.

"What do you mean he's been going to Lemoore?" Phoenix asks you.

You look at her blankly.

"Oh my god, I'm so fucking stupid. He's told me that almost every other weekend that he's had to help teach some classes in Lemoore. But that's when—that's when he has been going to see his mistress! That's where he is now! Oh my god!" You cried. Phoenix took you into her arms before leading you down the hallway to her office.

"I'm so sorry, Y/N, maybe there is another explanation." Phoenix offers, but you can tell she isn't sincere. "I smelled perfume on his clothes, and he's been hiding his phone. I should have seen the signs, but I've been busy growing a human." You cry harder.

"It's all my fault. I've pushed him away. I've been so moody and sex—I haven't had the desire to—I drove him into another woman's arms." You sigh.

"Hey now, this isn't your fault." Phoenix tells you. "Let me take you home. You're in no shape to drive." Phoenix says. You agree and she helps you to her car.

"I need to call my best friend, Boston, she's a pilot, too. She was supposed to come down next weekend to throw me a baby shower, but now I don't want her to. I can't—I can't believe this." You sob as you dail her number, but it goes to voicemail.

"Your best friend's name is Boston?" Phoenix asks you. "It's her call sign." You tell her.

Phoenix swallowed thickly, praying her gut was wrong.

Phoenix offers to stay with you until Bob shows up, but you tell her you need to be alone.

You grab one of Bob's duffle bags and start stuffing his things in it. There's no way you are letting him stay in your house. At thirty-three weeks pregnant, you probably shouldn't be stomping up and down the stairs, especially with you being high risk, but you have to.

You make your way through the house every time you see a picture of you and Bob. You tear it off the wall or shelf it's on and throw it across the room.

He comes home late that night and hears you screaming. He rushes in the house and finds the living room destroyed and sees one of his duffle bags packed on the couch.

"Honey, Y/N, are you okay?" Bob asks you. You look at him, he looks so concerned.

You don't say anything to him. Instead, you march up to him and slap him so hard that his glasses fall off his face. He picks them up and looks at you like you're a wild animal.

"What the fuck was that for?" He curses at you.

"You know exactly what it's for, you liar." You spit at him.

"Honey, what are you talking about?" He asks.

"How long? How long has it been going on?" You question him.

"How long has what been going on?" He feigns ignorance.

"How long have you been sleeping with someone in Lemoore?" You accuse him. Bob tenses at your words. A day he had hoped would never happen, has.

"Don't even try to deny it. I looked through our credit card statements and saw the hotel charges." You say to him.

"Y/N, I'm sorry." Bob says.

"Sorry? You're sorry? Why? Because you cheated or because you got caught?" You laugh. "It doesn't even matter. I packed you a bag. You can go stay with your mistress. And when whoever is in Lemoore is through with you, don't try to come back to me. Also, I'm telling you now, you will not be a part of this baby's life." You say as you try not to cry.

"Y/N, please, don't do this, I'm sorry, Boston, and I never meant to hurt you, it just—"

"Boston? Boston—as in Jeni? As in my best fucking friend who is like a sister to me? As in the person who introduced us? You've been fucking her?" Rage thrums through your veins. "I can't believe you, Robert. Take your things and leave. There's the door."

You turn away from him.

"Well, what did you expect, Y/N? You've pushed me away. You're moody and sick all the time. You never want to be physical. I was lonely. I needed someone, and Boston was there for me." Bob defends himself.

"You needed someone? You were lonely? That's rich. You don't think I've been lonely? You don't think I needed someone? The two people who were supposed to be there for me are the ones who betrayed me.

Bob opens his mouth to speak, but he quickly shuts it again.

"I packed a bag for you. We can work out a day where you can come get the rest of your things. Because when Boston decides she has better things to do, you don't have a home here anymore." You tell him as you sit down in the kitchen.

"Also, I called your mother, and while she and your family are more than welcome to be in this child's life, you won't be." You say.

"You called my mother?" Bob asks is disbelief. "Yes, Rebecca is very disappointed in you and told me to say that you weren't welcome in her home." You state.

Bob shakes his head. "So that's it? You're just giving up on us?" Bob asks as he stands at the door with his bag in hand.

"Don't try to spin this around on me. You're the one who gave up on us, Robert Floyd." You deadpan. There's no remorse in your voice as you ask him to leave.

Bob knows there is no point in trying to argue. He hangs his head and walks out the door.

That night, the Dagger Squad comes over to comfort you. Maverick asks you if you'd like to move to have Bob and Jeni dishonorbly discharged for their actions, but you turn him down. There's no sense in dragging it out.

Coyote and Hangman work to change all the locks for you in the house. Payback and Fanboy clean up the broken glass and thrown items in your floor.

You tell Maverick and Rooster where to find Bob's things, and they pack all of them in trash bags for you.

Phoenix sits with you on the couch, your head on her shoulder and she holds you as you cry.

Two weeks later, you find out that Bob put in a transfer to Lemoore after you serve him with divorce papers. You make sure to clean out your joint accounts before he can touch them.

Four weeks after that, your son is born.

Connor James Y/L/N is absolutely perfect when he is born. He has your features, and you're thankful for that. You don't know what you would have done if he'd come out looking like his father.

The Daggers and your family rally around you. True to your word, you let Bob's parents and sisters be in Connor's life. It's not their fault that Bob messed everything up.

You know, one day that your son will ask about his father, by then, you hope you'll have the words to tell him.

You also know that one day, you'll see Bob again. When you do, you'll ask him if whoever was in Lemoore was worth it.

You hope he's says no.

Taging somw who might be interested: @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @mayhemmanaged @wkndwlff @thedroneranger @daggerspare-standingby @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @hecate-steps-on-me @cassiemitchell @na-ta-sh-aa @katieshook01-blog @desert-fern @je-suis-prest-rachel @soulmates8 @diorrfairy @eli2447 @xoxabs88xox @djs8891 @roosters-girl @sebsxphia @rosiahills22 @dempy @callsign-magnolia @alchemxx @lewmagoo @withahappyrefrain @lt-spork @multifandomlover4life @beccaanne814 @bradshawsbaby @seitmai @kmc1989 @bcarolinablr @rhettabbotts @itsdesiree86 @waywardhunter95 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @whatislovevavy @inkandarsenic @tomanybandstolove @jiminie-08 @dingochef @laracrofted @skipchat @sunlightmurdock

[neverallnorman]

Are there any places in Fairville that Norman likes to hang around? What do people think of him before he's arrested? What do they think of him after?

This ask is from… seven years ago. But I’m gonna answer it anyways!

Before his mother met Joe Considine, Norman spent most of his time either at school or the library. He’s always loved to read and likes to learn just for the sake of learning. The librarians probably knew him by name and set aside books that they thought he would enjoy – almost always nonfiction, often history or philosophy. Norma didn’t mind so long as he was home before dark. Given that Fairvale is about 15 miles away from his house, he would have had to rely on the bus system, and if you’ve ever lived in a small, conservative town, you know how shitty public transportation is there. That alone made it nigh impossible to spend too long in Fairvale proper.

He also spent a lot of time at church. And hated it.

When Norma met Joe, she put her heart and soul into building and running that motel. This meant Norman spent less time at school and church and more time helping her run the place, usually just by doing odd little chores here and there. By the time the highway moved, driving all of the traffic away from the motel and leaving the business barren, Norman had already faded from most public consciousness.

A few people here and there still knew him. Fairvale is an extremely small town where everybody knows everybody else’s business. Grocers, plumbers, electricians thought of Norman fondly. When news broke that Norma and her boyfriend had died, Norman actually lived with Al Chambers and his wife for a short time; he was only 15 and couldn’t live independently just yet, especially not after such a horrific, tragic event. They adored him and treated him as well as they would their own child.

Norman began to run the motel entirely on his own. No one whispered about all of the missing girls, because they weren’t Fairvale natives; they were wayward girls who became lost along the highways, took a wrong turn, and had the misfortune to wind up in the lobby of the Bates Motel. No one in Fairvale knew them and so nobody thought to question what Norman might be doing up there all alone. Someone in town might think about him briefly. The librarian, maybe, when seeing a book on the history of the Incas; the plumber when he has a client offering him bottled water after a difficult job; a retired schoolteacher recalling a student with anxious eyes and a stutter whose name she can’t quite place.

Or they think about him when someone mentions that awful thing that happened five, eight, ten years ago. A murder-suicide in Fairvale? Unheard of. That poor boy, living like a hermit out in the middle of nowhere.

In 1959, Marion Crane goes missing. $40,000 is swallowed up by the swamp. Norman Bates is caught red-handed and charged with the murder of not just Marion, but six other people. The swamp behind the house is dragged, cars pulled from the muck. There’s more than just the seven. Girls from Las Vegas, Colorado, Arizona, San Diego. All blonde. All eerily similar looking.

Say, wasn’t Norma Bates a blonde? Surely you don’t think—?

People in Fairvale try not to talk about it, or when they do, it’s in hushed whispers behind gossipy hands. Suddenly everyone remembers Norman Bates. He bought groceries in town two weeks before he was arrested, didn’t he? They remember him as a little boy they knew from school. As the motel manager who helped their elderly grandmother carry her luggage to cabin seven. That nice man who…

Did all of those horrible things. Those poor girls. And the way he was caught in his mother’s clothing – and he kept Norma’s body up there, too, did you hear? The papers say he tried to taxidermy her. Kept her corpse in the bed, had conversations with it. They drive past the sign for the Bates Motel and their mind immediately goes to the headlines. They know exactly where they were when they heard the news. Seven Bodies Found at Roadside Motel. Later: Motel Killer Dubbed Fairvale Psycho, Found Unfit to Stand Trial.

Books are published about the case and its impact on small, sleepy Fairvale. The murders are described in horrific, graphic detail. TV specials play on late night cable that do the same, now with shots of the abandoned motel sign, the windows of the establishment boarded up.

Tourists purposely make a stop to see where it all happened. Finally the motel has people clambering to make a reservation, ten months after its doors shut to the public.

Everything becomes about the murders. For a time.

Eventually, interest fades, the way interest fades with everything. Norman soon is mentioned only as a passing factoid, mentioned alongside names like Ed Kemper or Henry Lee Lucas, notable only to those with the morbid curiosity to go digging.

[gloryofroses19]

Miss You When I'm Gone

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x girlfriend!reader

T/W: Allusions to sex

[full name] found laundry to be the most tedious chore in the world. Logically, she understood the necessity since she couldn’t walk around naked, although she suspected her boyfriend wouldn’t mind. However, logic aside she hated the sorting, the button pressing, detergent pouring, the folding. There was one thing that made the experience bearable, dare she even say fun. And that thing was currently using a lint roller as a microphone and singing his heart out to “California Dreamin’” by The Mamas and Papas in his apartment laundry room. 

“You’re supposed to be helping me, not serenading me! Especially because this is your laundry, Bradshaw!” [y/n] joked as she threw a piece of clothing at her boyfriend. 

“My laundry you say?” Bradley started as he gave his girlfriend a questioning glance as he held  up the piece of clothing. “I don’t remember owning red lace undies, baby.” 

[y/n] let out a laugh before trying to snatch the item back. However, due to his height and penchant for mischief, Bradley raised them above his head while he taunted. “Give me a kiss and I’ll give them back.” 

“As if, Bradshaw!” was all [y/n] said before she wrapped her arms around his neck before her legs followed around his waist. [y/n] smiled in victory knowing how her boyfriend’s care for her safety would outweigh their game. And like she predicted; his arms went down to secure her which allowed her to grab the underwear from him. “Ha! I win!” 

“You sure about that?” Bradley gave her a sinful smile while he squeezed her ass. 

The sound of the doorbell however, had the couple pausing before their lips could connect. 

“That’s probably Mrs. Wright returning my tape measurer.” Bradley supplied as he stared at [y/n]’s downturned lips from their interrupted kiss. “I’ll finish the laundry and you can get the door.” Bradley figured it would be faster if she got the door. Mrs. Wright housed intense jealousy of [y/n] for “snatching up the most eligible bachelor in San Diego”. 

“You’re the best, baby!” [y/n] placed a kiss of gratitude and promise for more on his lips before she walked out of the room. 

“Hi Mrs. -” [y/n] broke off however, when she realized the person on the other side of the door was not in fact the 70-year-old cougar who was trying to steal her boyfriend. “You’re not Mrs. Wright.” 

“No, I’m -” began the man. However, [y/n] finished the sentence for him, “Maverick.” 

Maverick had flown jets in dangerous conditions, killed enemy combatants, escaped the wrath of angry fathers and yet standing in front of Bradley Bradshaw’s door he never felt more nervous. Looking at Rooster brought memories of Goose back and he felt the longing for his old friend and the happy child who once called him Uncle Maverick. Despite how non-existent his relationship to Goose’s son was, he still tried once or twice a year to reach out. 

Maverick nervously laughed as he looked over the woman in front of him. “I feel like I’m at a disadvantage.”

Maverick’s main source of information about Rooster was from Iceman and Penny Benjamin. He knew of the existence of Rooster’s girlfriend from a month into their relationship. He also knew that marriage was becoming a real possibility thanks to Iceman. He was happy to hear that Rooster was making a family of his own, he deserved it.

But he didn’t want them to know that, he would hate himself more if he destroyed Rooster’s relationship to Penny and Iceman. 

However, the knowing smile that was directed his way told him that his cover was blown. At least Rooster let Penny and Iceman pass along information, Maverick reflected. 

“You are and that’s the point.” replied a cold voice from within the apartment. 

“Rooster -” 

“What do you want?” Bradley stood behind [y/n] and looked at Maverick. He had told [y/n] about Maverick. It bothered Rooster how hard it was to talk about his life growing up and not mention Maverick. Maverick was his uncle and father figure for a large path of his life and then when he lost his mother, Maverick chose to hurt him more. 

“Well, first to know your charming friend’s…” 

“Girlfriend.” Bradley corrected. He hated how Maverick made him feel like a kid again. A kid who wanted his approval and love when he missed his parents.

With a smile, Maverick corrected himself. “Charming girlfriend’s name and then to maybe talk.” 

“It's [y/n] and look, we just had four turns of a conversation, a new record. Goodbye.” 

[y/n] could feel Bradley’s anger and sadness with each second passing. When Bradley told her of his betrayal, she resigned to hate Maverick with him. His actions were incomprehensible with the man Bradley loved and revered as a child growing up. However, staring at his face, [y/n] saw the hurt and regret etched on the older pilot’s face. But this wasn’t her fight, her fight was with the emotions plaguing her boyfriend, so she decided to remove herself. 

“I’ll go make sure our dog isn't drinking from the toilet bowl.” She commented softly as she slipped back into the house hoping the comment would ease Bradley. 

“You have a dog?” Maverick asked, trying to remember if Iceman or Penny told him this. He also asked in hopes of diffusing the situation. He could tell how [y/n]’s presence grounded Bradley since they had gotten together. Meeting her and seeing their brief body language only confirmed how well they were for each other.  

“We don’t.” Bradley replied truthfully as he felt his pain ease thanks to [y/n]. If he had been with anyone else, the comment would have brought a smile to his face. They had a long and heated debate before bed a few nights ago about if drinking from the toilet bowl was nature or nurture. 

[y/n] heard Bradley’s familiar footsteps looking for her a few minutes later.

Finding her by the kitchen sink, Bradley sat with a sigh at the table. Bradley watched [y/n] rinse off the bubble from the bowl she was cleaning. Sighing again, Bradley hoped to get her attention away from their pre-laundry treat dishes. 

[y/n] smirked to herself as she heard Bradley sigh for a third time by her presumed determination to get the ice cream off the last bowl. 

“Aren't you going to ask?” Bradley questioned watching her turn off the sink and finally give him her attention.

Wiping her hands on the towel, [y/n] leaned against the sink. “No, if you wanted to tell me you would.” 

Bradley appreciated how [y/n] never pushed unless necessary. She understood that he needed time to process seeing Maverick and loved how she knew he would come to her eventually. 

Holding out his hands, he gave [y/n] a soft smile as she walked into his arms. [y/n] wrapped her arms around Bradley’s shoulders once his head came to rest on her stomach. 

“Do you think it’ll ever get easier?” 

 “I don’t know…but hopefully one day.” [y/n] answered truthfully as she ran her hands through Bradley’s hair. She wished she could give him more comfort but this was an open wound that would take time. 

It was times like these that Bradley thanked whoever for letting [y/n] walk into his life. He had no idea what he would do if she wasn't in his life. Removing his head from her stomach, he shifted his hands to her hips and pulled her onto his lap. “So was our puppy drinking from the toilet?” 

“No, he’s a perfect angel.” [y/n] mused as she made herself comfortable straddling her boyfriend. 

“Imaginary dogs usually are.” Bradley teased back as he enjoyed how [y/n] used his lap like he throne. Sitting with an air of confidence and familiarity like she belonged there, which they both knew she did. 

“I think we’d raise a perfect angel even if it was real.” [y/n] reflected as she kissed Bradley’s lips. 

Bradley pulled a breath away leading [y/n] to chase his lips. “Why don't we get one to see?”  

Opening her eyes, [y/n] looked into Bradley’s. A notable joker, [y/n] felt she needed to confirm if this was in jest or not. Seeing nothing but sincerity and certainly, she pressed an excited kiss to his lips and rose from his lap. 

Or rather, she tried to. However, Bradley’s arms tightened around her. “Darlin, where are you going?” 

Unsure if his resistance was for the length of the kiss or her audacity of leaving him, [y/n] settled back into his lap. “To get a computer or iPad or phone to look at a shelter site!” She replied with a thrilled tone before peppering kisses across his sun-kissed face. 

Enjoying the joy in her voice and lighting up her face, Bradley brushed his thumb against her bottom lip. Although the prospects of getting a dog were exciting, Bradley much preferred the exhilaration of spending time with [y/n].  "Here, just use my phone."

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed!

Taglist: @ateliefloresdaprimavera @shaded-recs @n3ssm0nique

[mink-place]

Sakamaki brothers with a little brother.

My first post of DL :D

The “little brother” is just a imaginary child, I've been thinking how would they spent their time with a new brother that has like 7 years.

Shū Sakamaki

He doesn't wanna take care of someone, so because of that, his little bro spends most of his time alone or with his other brothers.

But, nobody's on the mansion except him, and the child doesn't like being alone in such a big place.

When he wakes him up, he's upset, he just opens one eye and look at him.

“I'm sorry for waking you, but the mansion is big and kinda dark, can I be with you?”

“Whatever.”

Doesn't really mind the presence of his brother, just he expects him not to bother him while he's sleeping or pretending to.

From time to time he would open an eye to watch him, just to know that he's alright.

Reiji Sakamaki

I think that he would educate his brother and try to make him a “gentleman” kinda something like himself.

Would help him study and make him do the chores when he can't.

“There's a list of things to do, it's simple.”

He also cooks with him, it's kinda a strict brother, wants the best of his sibling, just the best.

He doesn't want him spending time with his good-for-nothing brother, he thinks that Shū would pass him his bad habits.

“You don't need him, he doesn't do anything good. Why would you like spending time with someone like him?”

It's kinda stressful to his little brother, he has so many things to do and has to be perfect on everything just to the approval of his big brother.

Ayato Sakamaki

He thinks is great to have a little brother, he has to be the best big brother to him, just so he would adore yours truly.

“You wanna go play basket? I'm sure you want, you're going with Yours Truly after all!”

Tries to be the best for his little brother and actually is a decent brother.

He doesn't push him to study or things like that, he just want to make sure he has the best time with him, no studies, no responsabilities, we can have fun while others do the job!

“You are my brother, that asshole will make the project on his own if he knows what's better for him, now, let's play something.”

He will expect his little brother to boost his ego.

“That's true, you should be grateful for having Yours Truly as your big brother!”

Kanato Sakamaki

His little brother must stay away from him, he doesn't like kids, they're annoying.

But, somehow, they got to spent time on Kanato's room.

“DON'T you dare to touch anything, I'll kill you.”

He's harsh with him, will call him horrible things and make him feel bad.

Also, he wouldn't let him have any of his snacks nor touch Teddy.

Even if he doesn't do anything, Kanato would find something to yell at him.

Now little bro has a trauma with Kanato, great job!

Laito Sakamaki

Now, HERE is a soft brother.

He may not be the best, but can admit that has a soft spot for his little brother.

Spends time with him doing whatever he wants.

He wants to paint? Sure, big bro Laito has colors and a book for you!

He wants to go on a walk? Maybe Reiji won't let him, but he can escape with his big bro Laito!

Also buys him gifts and really has a fraternal love to him.

“You want to go to a carnival?”

Also will teach him some tips to have a girlfriend, but his little brother may reject those advices.

“Alright, maybe when you'll grow up, fufu~”

Subaru Sakamaki

He doesn't think he's a good influence for his little brother, so that's why he keeps distance.

“Why Subaru-san doesn't want to talk with me?”

He feels bad when he hears his little brother is sad because of him, it makes him thinks even more that he's a monster.

“I don't hate you, stop thinking such stupid things.” that's how he would “apologize”.

Maybe he would try to spend some time with him, just far from his other brothers, he doesn't want them to know that he likes the kid.

Will gift him accesories like rings and things like that, but he'll give the gift and go away, just to not start a conversation.

He sometimes watches his brother from afar, making sure he's okay.

“I don't think you'll like a monster like me as a brother...”

[ratsoh-writes]

Masterlist 26

(*****)= suggestive

introducing

Seaswap and Seafell

General

coffee tea or hot chocolate (of st fs ff hfm)

fav colors (of st ff hfm)

child memories with Pavo and Whiskey

a kid asks them to fake being their dad (hfm fs)

a skill he wishes he had (of st fs ff hfm)

common misconception (of st fs ff hfm)

how to summon the new boys *not canon( (of st ff fs hfm)

SO licks his cheek and runs off

SO has a high libido (ut ff ot)****

every sans favorite condiment (all sanses)

aftercare******

SO kisses their soul (hf sfg ul lf ls)*****

how to get them interested (mafias + lf nt)

their speech at their bros wedding (ls nt gt ot)

headbutting with love (ff of)

SO is a kid magnet

aesthetics (the lusts)

SO can sleep with their eyes open

meeting his doppelganger (ut us fsr cash salt bruiser salsa)

friend gives him a flower crown (us ul mt)

serious friend giggles at a word (sans cash salt bruiser G)

SO leaves for a week but leaves behind love notes (fsr st ff)

SO puts on a face mask

Someone tries to fight SO (fsg lf hf mf ms)

he has a nightmare of his late SO

hacking his phone

first anniversary

playing with his hands (gt ul ft dt hs)

SO falls asleep on the ceiling (ls fs hs)

kiss my *ss (the lusts)***

advice they'd give their past selves

kid gets kidnapped (nt ft uf)

child playing with a venomous snake

SO is singing horribly off key

Interactions

how pop met pluto

Worldbuilding

seatale and farmswap traditions

mafiatale mages (before crash)

where their nicknames come from

humans of the aus

monster social media

skeleton names

Side characters

avenir (farmtale)

Kavish Lyer (med student)

seaswap/seafell

what he looks for in a partner

seafell royals deal

turn offs

seafell half siblings 1 2 3

love languages

favorite and least favorite activities

how protective of their SO are they

thoughts on kids

thoughts on animals

how protective over their bro they are

getting a flower crown

experience **

when they have a crush

do they like being carried

why is land weird

getting woken up by kisses

how they would propose

getting proposed to

fluff

sense of humor

ticklish

SO smacks the booty

bribes

choosing between bro and SO

kissing the skelehand

pillow fight

sub/dom scale******

mermaid (seaswap)

how they are during heat ***

alcohol tolerance

watching a horror movie with SO

how hook discovered he could digest metal

angst

petnames

ideal date

spice tolerance

prized possessions

seafell and seaswap culture

what makes them hiss

they get catcalled

big or little spoon

SO boops him

The Mafias

amusement park with petunia and dove

outerfell

a kid asks them to fake being their dad

atlas lost at space

seatale

breaking up

Farmtale

SO forgets to eat

Farmswap

chores he hates

hidden talents

Farmfell

biggest accomplishment

rams reading struggles

Horrorfarm

genuine compliment

making his day

[lovesanmotion]

ateez reacts: making up with their s/o

💌 This is: Requested | Alot of you have asked for a part 2 of the arguement reaction and now here I am to deliver all of you its part 2 

Hongjoong: 

A week. That’s what it took long for Hongjoong to go after you. After you had left the shared apartment, it was never the same for him again. Hee started coming to work hours late, work productivitiy low and once caused destruction on the coffee machine because the coffee didn’t taste the same just like how you’d do it. He was slightly thankful that he still has his job despite the mess he placed upon himself. 

Hongjoong knocked on the door to your parents’ house. A bouquet of flowers in his hand to let you know that he always has you on his mind. As the door opened, he was surprised to a new you. A new you wherein there was this certain glow in you, the wrinkles and tiredness away from your face. The sense knocked into Hongjoong: he was the cause of the problem. 

“W-What are you doing here?” You asked, staring at him and then eyeing the flowers in his hand. 

Hongjoong smiles and hands you to the bouquet, to which you accept. “I came here to apologize. You might still hate me and seeing my face right now is probably making your blood boil...but I’ll get into it. I’m sorry, and I miss you. Marrying you is the best thing I ever did. And I’m ready to give you all the children you and I wish to have. But, I’ll give you more time and space. It’s what you need right now. It was nice seeing you, Y/N.” As Hongjoong was about to leave the walkway, a hand gripped on his forearm. His heart raced inside his chest, as he turns around to face you, a soft smile paints your small lips. 

“Stay with me.” 

Seonghwa: 

After plates, knives and forks were thrown to one another, Seonghwa took a break on you and met up with other women. Going on dates and having drinks with them, he couldn’t even look at them the way he would look at you. It had been half a year since he lost contact with you. Until one day, while he was about to get ready to go on a date with this women who his friend set him up with, he received a phone call from an unregistered number. Nevertheless, he picked it up. 

“Hello?” 

“This is Park Seonghwa, right?” On the other line sounded like a voice of an older woman. 

“Who is this?” 

“I’m sorry for calling without notice. I’m Y/N’s mother. Y/N has been missing since last night.” Seonghwa couldn’t hear anything what your mother is saying, quickly taking his keys, phone and wallet before dashing out the door. 

“Where was she last seen ma’am?” He quickly gets inside his car, pressing the keys to start the engine. 

“Central Park in the city, the one called Seoul forest. We called for a search team earlier today but they couldn’t find her.” Your mother’s voice began to break, Seonghwa’s heart started to beat immensely. 

“I’ll bring her back to you” He says before ending the call and driving off. You see, Seonghwa didn’t used the word “try” in his sentence. It is because whether it takes him hours, he would thoroughly look for you all by himself. 

And deep within the forest, Seonghwa kept yelling your name, it was dark and cold and he’s all alone. His suit all covered up with sweat, dirt and leaves. As he went further, Seonghwa found an abandoned bus inside the forest, he didn’t know how could a bus fit in the forest’s narrow road but he went aboard it alas, found you in the middle row. 

He wanted to get mad at you, scold at you for getting your mother and him worried. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so, instead, he wrapped his arms around you and hugged you tightly, breaking into small sobs. 

“I didn’t think it would be you who’d find me” you whispered, burying your face on his shoulder. 

“I should’ve hugged you the last time I saw you” 

Yunho: 

You lifted your suitcase up and strolled it inside the airport. A week program in Jeju is exactly what you needed to get your life back together. Finally, it is you. No more hiding and pretending to be someone you’re not for Yunho. 

While waiting to be called in the immigration, you sat at the lounge area, scrolling through your phone when you heard a commotion and rushed footsteps, tilting your head, you saw a crowd of men, women and Yunho? You watched as Yunho moved his head right and left as if he was looking for someone, and when your eyes met his, he walked towards you. 

“Isn’t that Yunho? What’s he doing here?” 

“Who is that Yunho going to? Isn’t he and Nayoung together?” 

“Whoever she is, she’s ruining their relationship” 

“You’re leaving without saying goodbye?” He asks, you scoffed, closing your phone. “I’ve already said my goodbyes to everyone. Except you. Why should I?” Standing up, you grabbed the handle of your luggage and was about to wheel it away when Yunho caught its handle. 

“And you’re leaving, just like that?” You spun around, looking at Yunho in the eyes with your tears forming. 

“We tried to make it work right?” Despite the tears threatening to fall down and your nose turning red, you smiled to him. 

“Yunho, I’m tired.” You whispered as a tear slips out of your eye. “I looked for you in places I knew there would be you. But it was you who kept walking away, and I’m tired of chasing you.” small sobs finally broke out, but still, a crowd of women surrounded the two of you with camera’s pointing at you both.  

“I’m sorry.” Yunho says, head hung low. “I’m sorry if I made things worst for the both of us.” He pauses, catching a tear fall down on the floor. “But now I know, that you’re really for me. Even if its going against my family, I’d do anything for you to keep you in my life.” He finally lifted his head up, eyes red and tears streaming down his face. 

Yeosang: 

“The worst thing I ever did is that...I depended my happiness with you.” 

Yeosang and his other woman were caught redhanded by you last night. And you hated how he showed no mercy or remorse for you. 

“But I wanted to say thank you for you. Thank you for all the memories we’ve shared. Even if it was short, I’ll treasure them. The good and the bad. Goodbye, Yeosang.” And with that, you got up and left. 

San: 

There was no closure between the two of you. You and San separated paths together and have been doing everything you both wanted. And you think it’s better that way, because you were done and tired. Having to put up with him always was draining you emotionally and physically. As if its only you who cares about the relationship. Although he left you traumatized, you were slowly coping up before you could face the world again. 

Mingi: 

Red. That was all you could see. You trashed and threw everything in sight, causing a mess all over your room and it took about five people to stop you from destructing your whole room. You wondered if you really deserve love at all, because right now, all you ever feel is rage. 

Wooyoung: 

Woo took his sweet time and met with multiple women, hooking up with them on random nights before calling a cab to take them to the nearest hotel. But get this, Woo never kissed them. Not once. He never got off with them, and often time, he would get annoyed at how whiny and demanding they could get in bed. And one night when he couldn’t sleep, his thoughts drifted to you. He wondered if you were sleeping well right now, where you are and wondering how well you are. His thoughts brought him back to all the memories he shared with you. A small smile paints his lips until he groaned, lifting his head slightly as he sees his cock erected up. 

“You miss her too, huh?” 

Jongho: 

A day after you and Jongho fought, he started to become around at home more often. He would lightly scold you if you did house chores as he would always volunteer to do it for you and would tell you to just lay down and take a rest. Whenever the baby would cry in the middle of the night, Jongho would only tell you to go back to sleep as he could handle this. And you did, you went back to sleep, only to be awake a few minutes after about how cold the spot next to you is. 

Slowly you got up and went over to the baby room, your heart swelled at the sight of Jongho sleeping in the couch with your child laying down on top of his chest. 

[hongism]

ateez reaction to their s/o being pregnant:

he would be absolutely over the moon first of all

beaming overjoyed so thrilled

he would immediately be thinking of names as soon as he gets the news

then he would be asking you all sorts of questions

whether you’re okay, how you’re feeling, whether you need him to more

he would definitely take up more chores around the house for you

he just wants to make sure you have the most painless experience you can possibly have

and if you’re uncomfy or in pain, then he’s gonna feel the same bc it hurts to see him baby in pain :((

will be singing to your stomach every single night before you go to bed

will be playing music for the baby and holding his phone speaker to your stomach 

“how many pairs of socks do you think the baby will need?”

“should we get a backup stroller? no? too much?”

seonghwa was Made to be a parent okay

he has such a caretaker attitude to him and being a parent would be his biggest accomplishment

just having a baby and taking care of you throughout your pregnancy would be his life goals

he would drop Everything for you esp during your pregnancy

and when he first gets the news, he wont want to leave you alone for a second

he might get a bit overbearing at times but it’s all out of love

he Will rub your feet and ankles without complaint

he will OFFER to do it even if you’re like “ew gross honey no”

he just needs to take care of you so don’t deprive him of that he’s fragile too

“i can go to the store right now if you need me to” “you’re making dinner” “and?”

“don’t open the door, i’ll do it for you, okay?”

more under the cut!

yunho would be the Absolute Best Father

he was also made to be a parent

he’s the type who would talk to your stomach constantly throughout your pregnancy

he would tell the baby about his day and your day

he would gush about you and talk about how wonderful you are

would try to help out and do more chores

but somehow he always manages to get the vacuum cord tangled around your houseplant and knocks it over every time

and you’re like “babe just let me do it”

but he’s determined to Help so you just have to let him do it

he would 10/10 be littering you with compliments 24/7

“wow you’re glowing today look at you”

“is that a new outfit? you look amazing!”

yeosang is a sleeper fr bc he might not seem like it but he secretly wants a baby so badly

he might be a little quiet in his excitement and happiness but seriously he’s so!!! 

you’ll probably get calls from the other members like ‘pls shut him up he will not stop talking about the baby’

but he gets shy about showing his excitement in front of you

especially if you’re in pain because he will feel bad for not being able to do more for you

so he’ll suddenly show up with your favorite things and a new blanket or he’ll randomly prepare baths for you

he will do little things that add up a lot bc he just wants to do whatever he can to make you comfortable

“i got your favorite takeout for tonight, i figured you’d want it”

“i went out and bought the baby supplies you had written down”

i keep saying this but honestly all of ateez would be such great dads like come on

and SAN would be a stellar father

he’s so caring and gentle and lovely

such a precious bean :c who just wants to give you the universe

and he’ll want to do the same for the baby too

that’s his baby yes he’s gonna do anything for his child

even before the baby is born, san will be spoiling tf out of her

super fascinated whenever he sees the baby kick

like omg that’s in you?! that’s in you! woah that’s so neat?

he’ll have so many questions too like does it hurt how do you feel all that jazz

he will give you daily massages and sing to you softly to make you feel better :c

“omg i heard a heartbeat” “that’s my stomach growling idiot” “omg the baby spoke to me just now”

“i picked up three strollers today - a day stroller, a night stroller, and a groovy stroller for park days” “you what.”

mingi would be so overjoyed to the point of tears like mans will be sobbing when you tell him you’re pregnant

he won’t know what to say so he’ll just motion to your stomach and cry harder

he’s so ready to be a dad but at the same time he’s really nervous

even when not around you, he will just always be asking questions

the other will be like “he asked about babies for six hours today but i don’t think he retained any information”

he will have a little notebook to keep track of things to do

keeps notes on how to change diapers and how to properly burp and feed a baby

he just wants to make sure everything is Perfect for his little one

writes down little love letters to the baby too once a week

so that he can give them to your child later on

and he would be so excited about it 

“look baby i wrote another letter for mini me!”

“if the baby starts crying in the middle of the night, don’t worry about getting up. i’ll take care of everything”

it would take a minute for wooyoung to realize what’s going on

even if you say “i’m pregnant” he might just go ._. for a minute before he realizes what you’ve said and it really sinks in

then cue loud screaming and happiness

he is still going to be as chaotic and loud as ever

just with a bit more excitement now bc! he’s gonna be a dad! he’s so excited

sometimes though on late nights where you two are up bc you aren’t feeling well

he’ll admit that he’s really scared of messing up along the way

and he worries about whether he’ll be a good father

but he’ll get back to feeling better and less anxious after you talk him down some

he may not be the best helper but! he’s trying his best and that’s all that is important okay

“i got pickles!” “wooyoung i hate pickles” “omg really? i read that pregnant people love pickles :((” “i’ll eat one pickle just for u”

“i’m getting the baby a dinosaur costume so we can set her loose in the dorm and watch her terrorize seonghwa” “wooyoung no”

jongho would try to contain how happy and excited he is

he doesn’t want to startle you with how thrilled he is but he’s over the moon

will probably just sit around and think about it all the time for weeks

10/10 would sit around and laugh and smile to himself while thinking about the baby

the others might call and be like “he’s doing the thing again” so you would have to call and ask him how he’s doing and stuff like that

the two of you could probably spend hours on the phone just talking about the baby

he would 10000% sing to you and the baby both

definitely get on his knees in front of you and sing to your stomach

just too much elation to be contained in his body 

best helper tho like jongho is good at everything and he will Prove it dammit

“i set up the cradle today and put it in the spare room for now, but i’ll move it into our room when the time comes”

“do you think the baby will recognize our voices by the time she’s born? will she recognize my singing?”

[whumperooni]

After reading about gilf Enji I had this idea which I hope isn't TOO cursed ;; so, we all like to humiliate Natsu right? imagine that papa Natsu has the biggest hots for his cute lil girl, he adores her and would want nothing more than to make her his leetle wifey BUT, she seems to like to spend all of her time with her grandpa, she's so clingy to him and so in love, so imagine Natsus heartbreak when he goes to pick her up and finds cutie and enji getting all hot in the kitchen (1/2)

(2/2) and Natsu can do nothing more than just stand there and stare at his little girl whimpering and moaning and raining loving words and praise while getting railed by Enji fucking Todoroki, the man Natsuo still hates the most and HE of all people got to claim his little girl, like wow Natsuo got not only humiliated but also cucked by his own father

Cursed???? Cursed????? Oh, nonny, this is blessed.

I took some liberties- as per usual! But I hope you still like it, nonny ♡

tags/warnings: tw incest, tw breeding kink, possessive thoughts and behavior, voyeurism, unintentional cucking

“daddy, i went to grandfather’s ^~^ can you pick me up later?”

Natsuo’s eyes close. He takes a deep breath and one more, another after that.

It doesn’t calm him. It doesn’t stop him from gritting his teeth and crushing his phone in his fist.

This is the third time this week that you’ve gone to grandfather’s. This is the third time this week that he’s had to drag himself to that hated residence and face his father, struggle with the envy over your sweet smile and the kisses you press to Enji’s cheek.

Why do you have to be so enraptured with your grandfather? Why can’t you spend more time with your father- with Natsuo?

He wants you here at home. He wants you to be his good little girl and take care of his home instead of running around doing chores for your grandfather in your short skirts and aprons, your knee high socks. You’re supposed to be daddy’s little girl preparing him dinner and snuggling up next to him on the couch, letting him dote his never ending adoration on you.

You’re supposed to be his- not Enji’s.

A sigh escapes him and Natsuo scrubs at his face, frowns as he slumps his cheek into his palm after.

He can’t decide if this is more preferable to you having a boyfriend or not; Natsuo doesn’t know what he’d do if you told him some horny little prick had captured your heart.

Your heart belongs to him- your daddy.

No one else can have it.

Natsuo’s frown grows and he glances at his phone, sends off a quick little “okay angel. i’ll be there in a bit” to you before standing from his desk.

As much as he wants to rush over and scoop you up and away, he waits. He knows how much you love Enji and he wants you to be happy- no matter how bitter it may make him.

Natsuo busies himself with taking the laundry from the dryer, folding it up. It’s mostly yours and it’s not long before he comes across a pair of cute lace panties tucked among the rest of the clothes.

He stares down at the panties- tongue darting out to lick his lips and chest moving with a deep, deep breath.

He hasn’t seen these ones before; they must be new.

Natsuo’s thumbs smooth over the lace and a slow blush begins to creep across his cheeks, his mind conjures an unbidden image of you in one of his t-shirt, the panties discarded on the floor.

He’s disgusting.

It’s wrong that he’s a little hard and it’s wrong that he brings the panties up to his nose. It’s wrong that he considers stuffing them in his pocket and it’s wrong that he can’t help imaging you perched in his lap- shivering as he hooks the panties to the side, traces a finger along your slit.

But, god, he just loves his little girl so much- more than anyone, anything. He loves you and he wants you to be his in every sort of way- daughter, wife, lover.

He’ll never tell you- he can’t ever tell you. He has to keep it deep inside, let the shame and sin fester in the darkest parts of his heart.

If you don’t know about it, it can’t hurt you. It can’t be that bad if he keeps it all stuffed down and hidden away.

...right?

(He knows it’s not right.)

A quiet groan works its way up Natsuo’s throat and he squeezes his eyes tight, clenches his hand to keep from touching himself.

...he can’t.

Natsuo’s teeth grit and he places the panties on top of your clothes, resumes folding the laundry.

He’ll get you once he’s done. And he’ll keep his shameful desires all to himself.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ 

It’s a little late once he leaves the house- a call from a business partner and an unexpected favor to the neighbor had Natsuo running late.

But, he’s here now- back at his childhood home- and steeling himself to interact with his father, antsy to get you back and away from this place.

No one answers when he knocks. Natsuo frowns, but slides the door open and toes off his shoes.

You’re not in the living room when he checks and that makes him sigh, call out your name. You don’t answer him, but there’s a noise that sounds further in the house- something that makes his brows furrow.

...what is that?

Another noise and Natsuo’s frown deepens, he begins to slowly head toward it.

It sounds like a- like a-

No, no- of course not. It’s not a moan- his mind is playing tricks on him. It’s just- it’s just-

What the hell is that noise?

Trepidation floods through him and Natsuo swallows hard- hands shaking at his sides as his heart pounds.

One steps. Two steps. Three steps. Four steps.

Four steps and then he’s in the doorway of the kitchen. Four steps and then he’s staring at something his mind can’t comprehend. Four steps and then his heart breaks, his world shatters.

“Ojii-san! Ojii-san! Feels- feels-”

A moan tears through the air and Natsuo places a hand to his mouth- eyes wide as he watches his beloved daughter- his only daughter, his precious child, his heart and love- whine and moan, arch as his father- your grandfather- rocks his hips and slides his dick inside of you.

It’s not horror that rises in Natsuo first- it’s rage. It’s envy. It’s a choked, disgusting, aching wrench of jealousy and anger and heart break.

He watches as you whimper and cling to Enji- nails digging into a broad back and your legs wrapping around a thick waist, mewls leaving you as your grandfather fucks you.

“Ojii-san, feels so good! I can’t- I can’t-”

Enji grunts and Natsuo has to watch- eyes wide and growing teary, mouth numb with his fury- as his father latches his lips to your throat, fucks into you hard enough that the dishes in the cabinets shiver and shake.

“Come, little one,” Enji growls. “Come for me again.”

Again?

A sweet mewl leaves you and so does a hiccuping sob- your hands scrambling up your grandfather’s back until you can curl fingers into his hair, your body tightening as you whine his name again and again and again.

Natsuo’s fingers dig into his cheek as he stifles a yell and he grips the doorway with his free hand, nearly falls to his knees.

That’s his baby girl. That’s his daughter. And you’re- you’re-

“Love you, ojii-san! Love you so much! Please! More! More!”

“Greedy.”

It’s the fondest Natsuo has ever heard his father sound and he hates it- he hates it so fucking much, hates how Enji muffles your moan with a kiss, hates how his big hands grip your waist as he keeps fucking into your dripping cunt.

Why is it him? Why the fuck is it him?!

Tears stain Natsuo’s cheek and his fury has him shaking, his heartbreak has him rooted in the spot- unable to turn away or call out, unable to do anything but stare in his shock and jealousy as he watches each thrust that makes your breast bounce, as he watches each rock that has you whimpering and mewling. You’re flushed and beautiful, eyes heavy lidded and lips unable to stay closed with all the sweet noises leaving you, the pleasure making you a dumb, cooing, gorgeous thing.

He’s imagined the look of ecstasy on your face so many times. It’s always been him giving you pleasure in his mind, though- never this. Never ever this.

A sick wash of envy washes over Natsuo as he watches your fingers twine tighter through salt and pepper hair, as he watches you reach a hand back to grip at a cabinet while your back arches more and your lashes flutter, a low moan leaves you.

He’s hard as he watches you and that’s when the horror comes, when the shame comes crashing in.

How is this happening? How is this happening?!

“Ojii-san! Ojji-san, please! I wanna- I want-”

A cry rips from your lips and Natsuo flinches when Enji lifts you from the counter, when you’re pressed against the kitchen floor- hips lifted up and breasts pressed against the wooden slats, your eyes shut as you whine whenever Enji braces himself over you and fills you with his cock once again.

Fuck, you look so small underneath him.

Natsuo swallows hard and he takes a trembling step back, is still unable to tear his eyes away even as Enji starts rutting into you again, even as his big hands slide to thread his fingers through yours and he leans down to rumble out,

“I’ll give you what you want, little one. Ojii-san will fill you.”

Fill...fill...

Natsuo’s cock throbs and he goes dizzy, stumbles back as Enji presses a kiss to your back.

He hears you mewl out a needy “please” and that hits his limit- breaks him into nothing but tiny little shards.

Natsuo bolts out of the house, panting and gasping and running as fast as he can. He gets in the car and he gets his hand on his cock, ruts into his fist with an angry moan as his mind floods with the image of his sweet daughter being fucked by his father, your grandfather.

He comes and he chokes on a sob, forehead smacking against the steering wheel as he curls up into himself.

How could you do this? Why did it have to be him?

Natsuo grits his teeth and he slams his fist against the dash, shakes as humiliation and envy overwhelms him.

...he should have taken you like he wanted. Maybe then this wouldn’t have happened.

...he’s going to stop this. He’s going to show you who you belong to.

He has to- he can’t lose you to Enji.

Natsuo wipes furious tears from his eyes and he looks dully at his childhood home, feels bile rise in his throat.

His baby girl...his angel...

Natsuo waits in the car quietly- face blank and eyes wet, his heart aching as he counts down the seconds until his daughter is finished being fucked by his father, until he can go inside and take what is his.

[sachigram]

“With Teeth” Chapter 5

((click here to read on ao3!!))

Izaya is frowning down at his computer, his hands hovering above the keys of his keyboard, not moving. Next to him, Namie is typing away, a bemused little smirk on her face. She's enjoying this, clearly, and she's itching to say something biting.

“You're handling this better than I thought you would,” she says, her tone forcibly bored. Izaya blinks at her, lifting his hand to motion for her to continue. “Your little monster friend has a girlfriend now. He'll have less time for you, right? I assumed you'd be setting fires across the city by now.”

“You know what they say about assuming,” Izaya says breezily. “If anything, she's distracting him enough to leave me be.”

The chatroom is full of people chattering away about Shizuo and Vorona, who are spending a lot of time together, holding hands, exchanging glances, sharing beverages. It's sickening. Izaya feels vaguely nauseous just reading about it, but he thinks that's probably due to his insane schedule at the moment, and his lack of sleep. He keeps meaning to take a healing potion, but he forgets every time.

“Distracting. Right.” Namie types another response, fanning the flames of all the rumors circulating about Ikebukuro's hottest couple. Her smirk drops, and Izaya can't resist the temptation to dip into her mind, just a little, to see why she isn't enjoying this as much as she thought she would.

She's thinking of Seiji, of course, but also of Mika, and of Celty's head, and all the times she's been overlooked in favor of someone else. She thinks Shizuo dating Vorona is distasteful, because she's set on the idea that Shizuo must be fucking Izaya, and that's why he comes by so often. Izaya withholds a snort at that, and he graciously doesn't comment on the fact that Namie could probably have anyone she wanted, if she wasn't so obsessed with her own brother.

“Who cares, anyway?” Namie asks, closing her laptop. “The two of them together probably have conversations as interesting as watching paint dry. It's not worth even talking about anymore.”

“I couldn't agree more,” Izaya says, pushing away from his desk. He tilts his head at her. “Let's order out for dinner. My treat.”

“In that case, I'm craving something expensive.”

“Of course you are.”

***

Izaya is watching the sunset from a small window when he realizes he must have fallen asleep. He isn't at home anymore, and this is beginning to feel like the kind of dream he's been dreading to have lately, one where he knows Shizuo will show up at some point.

“Who are you?” A child's voice asks from behind him. Izaya turns, looking down at Shizuo, who is in a hospital bed, his arms wrapped, a brace around his neck. He's frowning up at Izaya, who sighs loudly before plopping into the vacant chair next to the bed.

“Oh, why does it even matter? You won't call me by my name anyway.” Izaya pulls his knees up to his chest and studies Shizuo closely. “You're here alone?”

“My family just left.” Shizuo looks up at the ceiling, seeming to decide that Izaya isn't a threat to him. “They used to stay with me a lot, but this happens all the time now, so they can't stick around as much.”

“I see.”

“I'll only be here one night anyway.”

“So who was it this time? Was it another fight?” Izaya asks.

“It's not like I wanted to fight.” Shizuo's eyebrow twitches. “I threw a swingset.”

“A swingset?”

“Yeah, but apparently it was bolted into the ground or something. Really fucked me up.”

Izaya can't help it. He laughs hard, curling into himself as he does so.

“Hey, fuck you, it isn't funny!” Shizuo snaps, but he seems to be trying not to laugh himself. “Well, maybe it was a little. The look on their faces was pretty funny.”

“Did you at least manage to hit them?” Izaya asks, still giggling at the mental image.

“No. Turns out all the time I spent lifting it gave them some time to escape.”

Izaya laughs harder. When was the last time he found something this genuinely funny? Lately all he does is work until he passes out, and he deserves it, he knows. Still, as he feels tears stinging the corner of his eyes, he thinks he feels good now, here with this kid version of Ikebukuro's monster. There doesn't seem to be anything else to do but talk to him, and their dreams keep connecting them no matter what Izaya does. He's tired of fighting it.

Shizuo is gazing at him with poorly concealed awe and wonder.

Pretty.

Izaya snorts at Shizuo's thought. What's so pretty about this scene right now? The sunset outside? The various machines hooked to Shizuo, beeping idly in the background? Shizuo keeps looking at him, and Izaya realizes, feels his face grow hot.

“Who are you?” Shizuo asks again.

“Your worst enemy.”

“Really? You don't seem all that bad.” Shizuo shifts a bit, winces. “You're not scared of me, are you?”

“Not now, not ever.”

Shizuo nods, and his lip wobbles. “People tell me all the time they aren't scared of me, but I know they are, deep down. How could they not be? They'd have to be crazy. But...” Shizuo chokes up, laughs a little. “I can tell you mean it. And if that makes you crazy, I think that's okay, because it feels good to not be feared, for once.”

Izaya lowers his legs, leaning closer to the bed. He idly touches the flimsy fabric of the blanket draped over Shizuo, who is watching him curiously. Izaya looks away.

“Sometimes you're so pathetically simple it makes me want to vomit. Sometimes it feels like a chore, hating you. Did you know that?” Izaya asks softly, and there's a long pause after his words, no sounds aside from their breathing. Even the machines have somehow gone quiet.

“So then why do you?” Shizuo asks at last.

“Isn't it funny that it's been so long of us hating each other that I forgot what caused it in the first place? I think you did, too.” Izaya crosses his arms over the bed, puts his head down. “People like us will always be at each other's throats. It's just the way it is.”

“You sound like a grownup,” Shizuo says, glaring now. “They always say that, when they don't know the answer to something. 'It's just the way it is.' If you don't know, then why does it matter in the first place?”

“Believe it or not, I am a grownup. I'm only a kid right now because you're one, too. We're always the same age in these dreams, even if only one of us remembers the future at a time.” Izaya lifts his head enough to grin at Shizuo, who blushes and immediately turns away. He seems to be trying to gather the courage to say something, but there's suddenly a knock at the door, and Izaya turns towards it. “Expecting someone else?”

“Huh?”

“There's knocking.”

“I don't hear anything.”

Izaya stands. “Oh. This may be in real life. I think I'm waking up.”

“Waking up? Does that mean leaving?” Shizuo's eyes look panicked. “When will you be back?”

“I never know. Why do you keep wanting to see me so badly? You're the one pulling me back here, you have to be.” The room starts to grow fuzzy as the dreamscape begins to fall apart around them.

“You're not scared of me. You laughed at me instead of running— Fuck!” Shizuo seems to be trying to get up to grab Izaya, but he can't with his arms bandaged. “Tell me your name so I can find you again!”

“You'll just call me a flea anyway, won't you? So it doesn't matter.”

***

Izaya opens his eyes to discover he passed out at his desk at some point. He sits up and frowns at the container of pasta next to him. He remembers ordering dinner for himself and Namie, and then...

“Ugh. Of course she just left,” Izaya mutters to himself. Namie is an opportunist if nothing else. She isn't the type to stick around and see what happens next, unlike Izaya. Another knock sounds at the door. “Who is it?” Izaya calls, feeling sluggish. He checks his phone to find he's been asleep for about two hours.

“Me!” Shinra's voice replies, muffled from the door. “Let me in, would you? I've been knocking forever!”

Grumbling, Izaya makes his way across the room, opening it for Shinra, who waltzes inside like he owns the place.

“Hi! I'm working late tonight, and I didn't have time to eat dinner before I left, so I figured while I was in Shinjuku I could come see what you had—“ Shinra stops talking and tilts his head to the side, observing Izaya. “You look awful. What have you been up to?”

“Also working,” Izaya says. He reaches up to wipe crusted drool from the corner of his mouth. “So you came to raid my fridge?”

“Ah, yes!” Shinra turns and continues his march to the kitchen. “I just got done with an emergency call, and next I'll be going to visit another patient. I didn't want fast food, so here I am! Did Yagiri-san make anything?”

“Should be leftovers somewhere around here.” Izaya looks back at his own pasta, feels his stomach rumble. He can't remember the last time he really ate or slept fully.

“Why don't we eat something together?” Shinra asks. “You look ready to fall over.”

Izaya ends up tossing the pasta. It was congealed together, and not very good in the first place. Namie picked the place to order from, but he'll definitely complain enough about it later to where they don't order from there again. Shinra actually goes through the trouble of throwing together some fried rice, because Izaya doesn't have the ingredients for much else. He'll have to send Namie for groceries.

“So what are you working on so religiously, anyway?” Shinra asks as they sit down. “I haven't seen you this absorbed in work for a while.”

“It's not just one assignment, but multiple. All of them are due around the same time.” Izaya eats a bite of rice and shrugs. “It's just poor timing.”

“More than that though, right? I heard Shiki-san was pissed at you for multiple reasons. Sounds like he's keeping you overloaded on purpose.” Shinra smirks at him. “You can never leave well-enough alone, Izaya-kun.”

“'Well-enough',” Izaya scoffs. “If he had his way, I'd be locked in a cage, of use only to him and his little cronies.”

“That's what you signed up for. You'll get yourself killed if you keep meddling. I mean, come on, Akane-chan? What did you think would happen by sending her off on her own like that?”

“Who says I was behind any of that? Akane-chan has a smartphone. Kids like her are always going to be involved in things, because they want better than they're given.”

“I don't believe you, and I know Shiki-san doesn't, either. It's clear he's punishing you, but...” Shinra leans closer, lowers his voice like he thinks Shiki is in the next room. “To be honest, I thought you'd have it way worse than this. You ordered Shizuo-kun's attack too, didn't you? I thought Shiki-san would hang you upside-down.”

“Again, Shinra, you're reaching way too far. I never said I was responsible for Shizu-chan either.”

Shinra pouts, and then sits back in his chair, shoveling down more rice. “Fine. Don't tell me. Just take better care of yourself, at any rate. It's not like you can't cure the effects of fatigue with your power. You're choosing to suffer, right? But then again, you've always been like that.”

“Don't you have another appointment soon?” Izaya asks, annoyed by Shinra and his big mouth. He's often wondered if friendship is supposed to be this exhausting, but it isn't like he has anything else to compare it to. Shinra was always the only one crazy enough to stick around.

“I'm only saying. You should accept your punishments and actually learn something from them every now and then. It seems like you just bounce back, more determined to make a nuisance of yourself than before.”

“If I don't make a nuisance of myself, I'll die from boredom,” Izaya lilts. “It's really that simple.”

“More like you're worried about being forgotten.”

Izaya resists the urge to throw something at Shinra, who is wearing a strange expression, something akin to actual concern.

“You've improved on your acting ability,” Izaya says, pushing away from the table. “Don't act friendly towards me now. It doesn't suit you.”

“I am your friend,” Shinra insists. “I'm the only one you've got, so maybe you should listen to me once in a while.”

“It always goes back to Celty anyway. What, are you worried I'm going to use her for something too dangerous?”

“Celty agrees with me that it's unusual for you to allow Shizuo-kun to be in your space as you have. Are you actually feeling guilty?”

“Are you?” Izaya stands and grabs a bottle of red wine from his counter before he pads over to his desk. “I don't have the time for this, Shinra. See yourself out when you're ready to go.”

Shinra sighs loudly, finishes his dinner, and picks up his briefcase. He walks towards the door.

“Take care of yourself, Izaya-kun. If you even know how to.”

Izaya uses his magic to slam the door shut behind Shinra, and then he drinks until he passes out.

***

He wakes hours later, in bed somehow.

Groaning, he sits up, trying to remember the night before. His mouth feels like cotton, and his head feels like it's trying to split itself open. He thinks he may throw up at some point in the very near future.

“Feeling better?” Tsukumoya asks from beside him. The shades are drawn closed, and the room is still dark despite the sun being out. Izaya glares at the vampire in his space.

“Why are you here?” he croaks.

“You don't remember? You invited me. We fucked.” Tsukumoya has his laptop, and is typing ridiculously fast even as he speaks. “It was quite the evening.”

“I'm serious. You just keep popping up. It's annoying.”

“Mm. I had a feeling you were being your usual destructive self. There's water for you on your nightstand.”

Izaya reaches next to him, grabs the glass before chugging it. His stomach immediately churns dangerously in protest.

“Why not take a healing potion? I know you have plenty of them,” Tsukumoya says, still not looking at him.

“Don't need it.”

“Right, you don't. The great Orihara Izaya doesn't need anything or anyone, how could I forget?” Tsukumoya finally glances over at him. “You might need to reconsider. Tonight's the night of the full moon. You'll need to be alert when your puppy visits.”

“Fuck, is it? I forgot all about it.” Izaya groans and flops back into the bed, rolling away from the annoying vampire in his space. “You weren't supposed to come until tomorrow.”

“Stop complaining so much. Do you need more water?”

Grumbling, Izaya tries to piece together the night before. He drank too much, he remembers that. Shinra was being annoying. He definitely fell asleep at his desk, meaning Tsukumoya carried him to bed.

“We didn't really fuck, did we?” Izaya asks.

“No. Did you want to?” Tsukumoya's voice is annoyingly smug. “I wouldn't be opposed.”

Izaya snorts and closes his eyes, wills the room to stop spinning. “Don't flatter yourself. You're not my type.”

“I'm not? Here I thought you had a thing for monsters.”

Izaya considers throwing Tsukumoya across the room, but that would be rising to the stupid teasing, and it would require more effort than he currently wants to exert. He stays where he is, listening to the sound of Tsukumoya's fingers on the keys.

“You're being especially pitiful lately, Izaya,” Tsukumoya says after a while. “So you've lost control of your little game, so what? Maybe you should think of what to do next instead of working to the point of exhaustion. You know I hate it when you're predictable.”

“Why does it matter what I do? I'm trapped.”

Tsukumoya sighs. “Yes, you are. And what are you going to do about it?”

“Right now, I'm going to be miserably hungover. Next, who knows? It'll surprise us both.”

“If only I found you sooner.” Tsukumoya goes back to typing. “The things you could've done. Humans are always finding ways to control what they don't understand or fear. But now, you can only help yourself. If you believe you're going to be trapped forever, they've already won.”

“I know that.” Izaya thinks of the work assignments that aren't ever going to stop, and he thinks of Akane, of Shizuo. He knows he went too far, but he has to go even further still.

Tsukumoya seems like he wants to say more, but he pauses, and the typing stops once more.

“You really might want to take that potion now,” he says. “One of your executives is on his way here.”

***

Izaya does not take the potion, and when he answers his door, it's with a slightly green complexion. Akabayashi takes one look at him, and promptly bursts into laughter.

“Oh, wow. And I thought I drank too much. You look awful, brat.” Akabayashi invites himself inside, stepping around Izaya. “I'm doing a wellness check on behalf of the boss. You understand, right?”

“Seems like I have more people in my life than I thought,” Izaya says, closing the door before moving to his couch. “This is my third wellness check.”

“Hard to believe a roach like you has friends, but then again, this city has an infestation. You missed a deadline today.”

“I got a little carried away last night. I've been in bed all day.”

“But you answered the door fully dressed, like you've been up and about,” Akabayashi presses.

“I sensed you coming,” Izaya lies.

Akabayashi hums in thought, and he grins menacingly. “Ya know, I ran into Heiwajima the other day at Sunshine. He seemed really interested in who bit him and why.”

“You should tell him,” Izaya says. “If anything, it would get him off my back for a while.”

“Oh, don't act innocent. We all know who made the phone call that started everything.”

“Clearly what I want doesn't matter. You've made that abundantly clear.”

Akabayashi walks closer to the couch, and he leans closer to Izaya. “Watch yourself, kid. Just because you haven't been caught in the act yet doesn't mean we don't know you're guilty. That magic of yours will only get you so far with us.”

“If your power spans so far, you shouldn't be worried about what I did or didn't do. If you really knew I was guilty, you'd have killed me by now,” Izaya says.

“Assuming monsters like you actually have enough humanity left to die.”

“Why don't we both find out?”

They glare at each other, and Izaya can sense from Akabayashi that the executive would like nothing more than to tear him limb from limb, but he won't. It would be against Shiki's wishes, and as much as Akabayashi hates it, he has to follow orders, or he'll be next on the chopping block. He takes another step towards the couch, but before he can do or say anything, the door slams open with such force that it bangs against the wall and cracks it.

“Hello, Shizu-chan,” Izaya calls without breaking eye-contact with Akabayashi. “Entertain yourself for a moment, will you?”

“What the fuck is this?” Shizuo asks. He growls when he notices Akabayashi. “Oi! I still have questions for you, asshole!”

“I'm sure you do,” Akabayashi says, standing up straight again. He grins at Shizuo. “I can't answer 'em for you, though. Sorry about that.”

“I could always beat it out of you,” Shizuo says, cracking his knuckles. “I'm even stronger than I used to be, since you bastards made me into a monster.”

“You wouldn't get far. I'd relax, if I were you.” Akabayashi turns back to Izaya. “Get to work, brat. Shiki's only so forgiving.” With that, he turns on his heel, and goes towards the door. Shizuo makes to stop him, but Izaya lifts his hand and summons Shizuo backwards, towards the couch.

“What the fuck!” Shizuo shouts, fighting it. “Let me go!”

“Don't make me exert myself, Shizu-chan. I'm having a rough day,” Izaya says. Shizuo turns and glowers at him, but his features soften.

“What's wrong with you? Are you sick?”

“Yes.” The door opens and closes, and Izaya knows he's alone with Shizuo once more. “You didn't knock this time.”

“Didn't think I needed to. It's not like you weren't expecting me.” Shizuo leans down, scrutinizes Izaya. “You're hungover.”

“Don't read my mind,” Izaya huffs, curling into himself.

“I didn't. You reek of alcohol.”

Grumbling, Izaya summons a blanket and throws it over himself. He doesn't know if he prefers Tsukumoya's company to Shizuo's, but at the moment, he thinks he'd rather deal with the vampire. At least for a little bit.

What a messy flea. Shizuo thinks, and then he walks away from the couch. There's the sound of him sifting through the fridge, but there isn't anything for him to find. Namie had the day off, and Shinra cooked what little was available the night before.

“You might have to order out,” Izaya calls. “You have a couple of hours before sunset.”

Shizuo growls loudly, thinks something about Izaya being useless, and then pulls out his phone. Izaya stays where he is and doesn't move, enjoys the silence for a few moments before it's ultimately shattered by Shizuo, who is suddenly sitting on the couch near Izaya, but still far enough to where they're both comfortable.

“I ordered pizza,” Shizuo says, and he leans back against the couch cushions. “You should foot the bill.”

“If you wanted me to pay, you could've ordered something better,” Izaya replies.

“Nah, everywhere else would've taken too long. Pizza is fast and easy.”

Izaya watches sleepily as Shizuo picks up the remote and turns the TV on, flipping through a few channels before settling on a soap opera. It should feel weird, sitting here with Shizuo, watching a woman sob because she caught her husband having an affair, but it really doesn't feel weird at all. Maybe Izaya is too tired to feel one way or another about it, or maybe their strange mental link has done the majority of the work in making them civil towards one another. Either way, Izaya feels comfortable enough to let his guard down a little, and it's an instant relief, like setting down something immensely heavy.

“So, I don't get it. Why are you just sitting here feeling like shit when you can heal yourself easily enough?” Shizuo is still looking at the screen, but he's back to poking around in Izaya's head, whether he knows he's doing it or not.

“Shut up, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says without any real bite.

“Oh. You just want to feel bad. Seems like a stupid thing for someone who's supposed to be some kind of genius, but whatever.”

The woman on screen is confronting her husband's mistress, and it winds up in a fist fight on a balcony. Izaya snorts when the mistress is pushed off to her death. How predictable. Shizuo is scowling at the TV, but he's thinking about his shared dreams with Izaya, and also about some images he's been seeing through Izaya's side of the link. He's also thinking about Shinra, who apparently ran into Shizuo last night after his last appointment. Shinra seemed worried about Izaya.

He's a good actor. Izaya sends. He always has been.

I don't think he was acting. You look worse than you normally do.

I'm hungover, as you so aptly put it. You being in my head isn't helping me feel better.

“I'm not doing it on purpose!” Shizuo snaps, and the sudden loudness has Izaya flinching. “I don't get why it's happening either, okay? I'm only just now starting to believe it's not actually you doing it.”

Because you've seemed like such a mess ever since it started. Shizuo thinks, and Izaya grinds his teeth in frustration.

“I'm not a mess.”

“What did that guy want?” Shizuo asks, changing the subject abruptly.

“Akabayashi-san stops by from time to time to threaten me. It's a pastime for him.” Izaya is starting to feel nauseous again, so he closes his eyes and wills it to go away.

“Don't you work for him, though?”

“I don't work for anybody. I'm a freelance informant for hire, and I give the organization he's part of information when they pay me for it, same as anyone else.”

Shizuo frowns, thinks something biting about Izaya working for the Yakuza. “He seemed like he wanted to hurt you.”

“Oh, he does. They all do,” Izaya says. “They'd kill me if they could.”

Shizuo doesn't like that he has something in common with the Yakuza. He grimaces before he says, “So what? You're just too strong to die or some shit?”

“No,” Izaya replies. “I'm just too important for them do dispose of. I'm part of the reason they're as powerful as they are, and they know it, even if they hate it, even if they hate me. I'm the strongest tool in their arsenal. Killing me would be crippling themselves.”

Silence follows Izaya's words. Shizuo's mind is a whirlwind now, thinking so many things at once, all laced with rage. He doesn't like anything about what Izaya said, the way it was said so flippantly, the way Izaya doesn't seem to mind. Shizuo doesn't like that Izaya thinks of himself as a tool, as something other than human, even if it might be true. Shizuo doesn't want to think of himself as other than human, either.

Shizuo doesn't seem to do well with the truth.

“That isn't true,” Shizuo growls, no doubt in response to Izaya's thoughts. “You're a person. I'm a person. We're other things too, but whatever we are, we're human first. You said so yourself, right? You can die, you can be killed. You're human enough to die.”

“I'm telling you this once, and once only, beast,” Izaya murmurs, opening his eyes to glare at the TV as he speaks. “It would be the exact same as breaking a screwdriver, or losing your favorite toy. If I died, that would be it. They would just replace me. They want to, and they would if they could, but I'm one of the last of my kind, and I'm definitely the most powerful one left. I don't care about it, because I've always known I was only useful for what I knew and what I could do. If you're going to be hated, you damn well better be useful. That's the way it is.”

“Fuck that!” Shizuo yells, and he stands, his hands clenched into fists. “What the hell are you talking about? You think it's okay to sit here and feel sorry for yourself, like you didn't have a hand in being the hated little rat you are? You think it's just because of your magic? You're the one deciding to do the shitty things you do. People hate you. If they knew you were a witch, whatever, maybe some of them would hate you more, but it's only because they hate you already. Get the fuck over yourself.”

Izaya laughs, delighted at the outburst. Doing so hurts his head, and his vision swims. This is pitiful, isn't it? Feeling useless, being forced to lie back and swallow vomit just so no one else can ask anything more of him. If he's a tool, he's a damaged one, and every time he's human, he dulls himself a little more. If this is a game to be played, and his opponents have the winning hand, Izaya will make sure none of them win. He'll destroy himself if he has to. He'll destroy everything.

“Trust me, Shizu-chan,” he croaks, “I know they would've hated me either way. The difference between us is you're searching so hard for a place to belong, and I've accepted long ago that it doesn't exist. Now would you kindly shut the fuck up? My head hurts.”

Shizuo is seething, his breaths labored as he works to calm himself down. He wants to lift Izaya up and shake him until his head pops off. Then Shizuo wants to tear apart everything in the apartment, maybe go punch Akabayashi for good measure. He hates that he sees the reasoning in Izaya's words. He hates himself, and he hates Izaya more than anything else.

“Get out of my head,” Shizuo grits out.

“I'm trying,” Izaya says, and he leaves it at that.

They lapse back into silence, and when Shizuo flops back onto the couch, his brow is furrowed, his jaw set. It's clear he isn't going to let this go, but he at least doesn't want to be in a terrible mood before his transformation. The bloodlust is worse when he's angry. He has to keep reminding himself that Izaya is a liar, first and foremost. Izaya uses words to protect himself, and Shizuo doesn't have to, and won't, ever do the same.

“Well, isn't this cozy?” Tsukumoya's voice asks as he walks down the stairs. He's wearing a hood, covering himself from the weakening rays of sun that still shine through the windows.

“I thought you left,” Izaya calls as Shizuo whirls to growl at the vampire.

“I was going to, but I figured I'd stick around to make sure you didn't die,” Tsukumoya says. He smirks at the scene of Shizuo and Izaya sitting together almost peacefully, watching trash TV in silence. “I wondered how your nights with the puppy went. I suppose I can see for myself now.”

“Why the fuck are you here?!” Shizuo barks, and then he whirls to face Izaya. “Does he always just pop up like this?”

“Not always,” Izaya says. “He stayed the night.”

“What?”

“Relax, Heiwajima-san. Rest assured, I didn't touch him.” Tsukumoya flounces past the couch while Shizuo's face turns a variety of fun colors. “At least, not much.”

Shizuo stands from the couch, and Izaya sighs loudly.

“Don't you have anything better to do?” he asks Tsukumoya, who is still looking at Shizuo appraisingly.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I trust you won't drink yourself stupid a second night in a row?” Tsukumoya says, looking at Izaya.

“I don't have the luxury tonight,” Izaya answers.

“Right, you're puppy-sitting.”

“Do you mean me, you fucking—“ Shizuo starts, and he barrels towards Tsukumoya, who easily side-steps him.

“Make sure you eat something at some point,” Tsukumoya calls to Izaya. “That pizza will help you feel better.”

“I don't want it,” Izaya grumbles, covering his head with the blanket. He hates both of the people in his space right now, and he just wants to sleep.

You must be making a conscious effort to not heal yourself if you're still this sick over a hangover. Tsukumoya's voice sounds in Izaya's head. Is this really helping anything?

Yes. Izaya can't escape either of them, can he? They're both annoyingly perceptive and persistent. He can feel fondness radiating from Tsukumoya, but it's quickly being overshadowed by the amount of fury pouring from Shizuo, who is clearly listening to their mental conversation.

“Your pizza is here,” Tsukumoya says, and the knock comes a moment later. “Make sure he eats something, please,” he says to Shizuo, and then he vanishes before anything else can be said.

***

Shizuo scarfs down the entire pizza at breakneck speed, once or twice trying to get Izaya to accept a slice before giving up. He doesn't care if Izaya eats or not, and he doesn't care if Izaya feels sick or not. Shizuo's mood increases as he eats, and by the time he's finished, he's as mellow as he ever is while sharing a space with his mortal enemy.

Izaya, for his part, is starting to feel a little better. His stomach rumbles a bit at the scent of the pizza, but his appetite wanes at the grotesquely barbaric way Shizuo eats. It seems worse than usual, more...animalistic.

In fact...something seems off about Shizuo, even for a full moon. Maybe something happened earlier, or maybe Shizuo just went too long without eating until now, but Izaya can sense the bloodlust permeating from Shizuo like a miasma.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, slowly sitting up to level his gaze at his unwanted guest. “Have you taken your potion?”

“Huh? Of course I have,” Shizuo replies. His hair is glowing from the fading rays of the sun as it descends behind the tall buildings outside.

“Have you taken it exactly as you should, the way I instructed?” Izaya asks through clenched teeth, already knowing the answer.

“Well— I drank it all a couple of days ago. I spent all day with Vorona, and I didn't want—“ Shizuo pauses at the look on Izaya's face. “What? What did I do wrong? You said to take it all before the full moon, and I did!”

“I told you to drink it every day, bit by bit, and to finish it before the full moon. The exact way you've done every month until now, because you're so pathetic in the presence of that woman that you can't follow basic fucking instructions!” Izaya snaps, and Shizuo's eyes widen.

He looks scared. Shizuo thinks, and then a beat later, Oh fuck. He's scared of me.

“Izaya, I—“ Shizuo begins, and then his hands grip his knees as his body begins to shake. The sun's rays fade at last, bathing them in twilight. “I feel...wrong.”

Izaya stands from the couch, the room spinning as he does. He's not at his full power. Even if he weren't hungover, he hasn't been eating or sleeping the way he should, buried in work as he is, and reluctant to care for himself as ever. He starts towards the stairs, in search of the healing potion he should have taken earlier, but he knows it's already far too late, as Shizuo's body is already beginning to crack and twist, and his mind is already gone, replaced by that of a true monster.

“Shizu-chan, you're such a fucking idiot,” Izaya hisses, and his sentence is barely finished before Shizuo is lunging at him, aiming for his throat.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

I gotta ask for the tiny bois since they all sound adorable, how do they try to show off to a parent/teacher? I remember as a kid showing off to get praised even over dumb stuff

Yeah, first ask using the baby bones ! Let’s do this !

Tiny Undertale Sans - Well, since he is a chaotic little skeleton, being praise is not that hard. All he has to do is literally clean his room. Since he’s never doing it, their adoptive parents are so proud they can cry. Though, he’s doing it only when he really really want something and knows that with his actual behavior, his parents will say no. Sans is very very clever and knows how to manipulate adults.

Tiny Undertale Papyrus - No one asked him to, but Papyrus decided he is the official protector of all younger school children. He’s watching very seriously over everyone during breaks and make sure to report anything unusual to the teachers. The teachers are praising him, but they are also doing this to, you know, get rid of him a little since he is always glue to their shoes. But this, Papyrus is not aware of (or do like he’s not seeing this).

Tiny Underswap Sans - He knows he is a bit too much sometimes, so when it takes him, he suddenly become a sweet SILENT angel for one day. But just like Sans, Blue is doing this only if he has something to ask and knows that his parents will say no. But it’s also happening more often. When he wants to really impress his parents, he doesn’t run off at the mall and actually listens to them. Well... At least for the first 15 minutes or until he sees a toy, or a clown, or a butterfly, or free chocolate, or...

Tiny Underswap Papyrus - He’s usually very calm and gentle, but when he wants to impress his parents and/or teacher, nothing better than a nice drawing. He’s pretty good for his age and everyone is telling him, so he continue to show his skills. 

Tiny Underfell Sans - This kid is so tiring, saying no to everything and being mean to everyone. But when he is asked to calm down, he will accept a bath. Red HATES baths. He hates water, he hates soap and he hates being forced to wash. But if he had been too mean, he will accept his sentence without a word and a very resigned expression. It’s a gift to say “Ok, I know I went too far.” But that won’t last very long, so enjoy that moment of calm :’)

Tiny Underfell Papyrus - So, one day, you made a mistake. You said that if he was doing the chores, you would give him some money. He did, and you congratulate him very warmly. Now he is doing everything in the house and gets angry when you are not giving him his money. If you don’t stop this madness, you’re going to bankrupt. Please send help.

Tiny Horrortale Sans - He doesn’t need to show off, he is already an angel. He can still help you when you needs it or bake a cake. He’s that child everyone want to have, polite, nice, calm and cute.

Tiny Horrortale Papyrus - He reads a lot of books. When he wants to show off, he will recite a random dictionary page to show how clever he is. Actually, that is quite creepy. Did this child learned the dictionary ? You can ask everything. He KNOWS the answer, somehow.

Tiny Swapfell Sans - Well, if he want something, he can just stop opening illegal selling activities for one day. Just to give a break to his parents, tired of getting him out of the police station every two days.

Tiny Swapfell Papyrus - If he really wants to show off, he will eat vegetables at the exact moment you are saying to someone else all he’s doing is eating chicken mcnuggets. Well, by eating I mean he keeps it in his mouth then spit it out when no one is watching him. 

[szivtalan]

love is in the words unspoken

all these moments are golden,

forever is mine with you

the blossoming of the cherry trees always puts hawks in a strange mood. he thinks they’re romantic, magical - reminds him of a time when he was more naive, more dreamy, didn’t know much about the world. it’s nostalgic, to see the carpet of sakura petals on the streets, reminding him of what is and what could’ve been.

‘hawks!’

it’s ironic that he runs into endeavor’s child just as the flowers begin to fall.

‘hey, it’s todoroki.’ he grins, glancing at the two heroes behind the one already rushing up to him: deku and dynamight. ah yes, the three musketeers, as they call themselves. it’s nice to see the top three teaming up that way. ‘where’s the honorific though, kiddo? i’m still much older than you.’

‘not that much.’ shoto replies, and it feels like a shot to the heart. that’s right... they’re both in their twenties now. ‘and i figured i’d drop the honorifics now that i’m above you on the hero ranking list.’

the tilt of his head would be adorable if he weren’t such an asshole. tokoyami was right when he said that his youngest was different than endeavor - hawks only wished to see such a playful side of him.

‘the disrespect.’ hawks laughs, slapping shoto on the shoulder. he hits harder than what would be necessary, but the boy doesn’t even bat an eye. sturdy. and tall. holy shit, is he taller than hawks now? ‘anyway, i really don’t mind. are you guys patrolling around here?’

‘GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE HALF-AND-HALF, BEFORE I GO THERE AND BEAT IT!’ one youngster yells at them.

‘kacchan, don’t be so rude! he’s talking to hawks-san!’

‘friendly bunch.’ hawks snorts, and shoto just shakes his head with a smile.

‘they’re the best. i’m just trying to catch up.’ he admits, sounding sincere.

‘DON’T IGNORE ME, FUCKFACE!’

‘what are you doing around here anyway?’ shoto asks. ‘isn’t your office in a different city?’

‘yeah, i just came here to stretch my wings, take a walk.’ hawks says, ruffling his feathers a little for emphasis.

‘are you walking on your wings?’

‘n-no...?’

‘then how-’

‘WRAP IT UP NOW!’ at dynamight’s next shout, shoto visibly flinches. he seems more irritated than scared, at least to hawks.

‘i just wanted to thank you for helping my dad all those years ago.’ shoto says then, bowing his head a little. hawks takes it back, he doesn’t have an ounce of disrespect in his body. he’s just a little warped in the social area, and hawks has a fairly good guess where he gets that from. ‘i’ll be going now.’

‘wait, ah- how, how’s the old man?’ hawks tries to aim for anything but desperate. ‘i haven’t heard from him since the retirement.’

shoto looks at him thoughtfully, and those dual-colored eyes make hawks immeasurably nervous. he feels like he’s staring into his soul, opening up the secrets he’s got locked inside.

‘he’s well. i go home on weekends.’ shoto says, pulling up a notebook and a pen. ‘here’s the address. i think he’d appreciate the visit.’

the road to the todoroki estate was the most tiring one hawks had taken in a while. it’s not like it was far from where they met with shoto, but he spent the entire time worrying if he’s dressed well for the occasion, if he should just walk instead of flying to not get gross and sweaty - if endeavor will even let him in, or he’ll just pass by and get told off.

the house is huge, traditional, designed in classic enji taste. hawks could see the roof from a street away, almost walks into a lamppost while staring, his heart picking up the speed both from the scare and the nerves. his feet feel heavier with every step, walking down the street, finally getting to the gate-

and seeing todoroki enji, former number one hero, the feared endeavor sweep the walkway to his door, the scene way too casual to not send an already spring-up hawks into hysterics.

‘what the hell is that?’ hawks spits, laughter erupting from deep in his belly. the look on endeavor’s face just makes him shriek louder, his abs clenching with it. ‘is that- a fucking broom for ants, endeavor, you look so funny-’

‘can’t a man just do his chores in peace?!’ endeavor’s yelling now; sparks fly on his heated skin, and then they burst into flames.

‘now that’s the endeavor-san i know and love.’ he laughs, holding onto his own stomach, wiping his tears. endeavor’s face appears red under all that fire, he walks up to the gate to let him in.

‘what are you doing here, anyway?’ he mumbles, extinguishing himself as hawks walked in. he holds his broom under his armpit rather awkwardly, with the gracelessness of a man not quite used to doing the cleaning. hawks looks at him, observes: the slouch in his shoulders, the specks of grey in his stubble, the blush high on his cheek, the early wrinkles. he smiles to himself, reasons unknown, buried deep in a secluded part of his heart.

‘ran into your kid downtown, he said i should drop by and say hello.’ hawks lifts the nylon bags he’s been carrying, offers a lopsided grin. ‘i brought takeout.’

‘hmpft.’ endeavor is elaborate, as always. a man of few words and plenty actions, something hawks has always admired in him. ‘you can stay. only for the food.’

‘so you’re still very much hopeless in the kitchen, eh?’

‘don’t make me change my mind, brat!’

the house is huge on the inside, at least five bedrooms, two bathrooms, a big kitchen and dining room, and one living room all fit into one floor. all of it echoes from their steps, empty and lonely.

‘your boy said that he’s visiting you on weekend.’ hawks pries, shrugging his coat off as he hands over the bag. his fingers brush against endeavor’s fight-hardened, calloused ones and his heart feels like it could jump out of his chest again.

‘whenever he has the time. shoto’s a busy man.’ endeavor nods, his voice dripping with pride. hawks doesn’t need him to say any more to know how fond he is of his son. it makes him smile, actually. ‘why?’

‘and the rest of your family?’ he asks, a little more cautious.

‘i see rei and natsuo on holidays, and fuyumi usually spends her school breaks here.’ enji sets down the bag at the low table, grabs a pair of chopsticks from the dish rack. there are plates piled high there: it seems like he can clean up after himself, but refuses to put things away. hawks figures it’s pretty comfortable, considers that for a second before he realizes how much he can see into endeavor’s private life.

they sit down at the same time, and their eyes meet. ‘i’m not lonely.’ enji immediately turns defensive. there’s probably pity or sadness in hawks’ eyes, he wasn’t paying attention to his expression for a second.

‘i wasn’t suggesting you were.’

‘being alone is something i deserve. so i take my punishment with pride and strength.’ enji squares his shoulder, sitting up impossibly straight at his uncomfortable seat. he takes the boxes out, scatters them across the table for them to reach. no plates, though. ‘itadakimasu.’

they eat mostly in silence, warm, comfortable, and hawks can’t take his eyes off him. endeavor looks so casual, so approachable like this. he looks soft, in the slightly frayed sweatpants, a little weary from use, and the soft cotton shirt hugging his bulging muscles, stretching across his enormous shoulders. his face is a little thin, the wrinkles obvious on its unharmed half. from this close, hawks can see the grey hairs on his temple, too.

‘i’m looking for a place to stay.’ hawks announces once they’re finished eating. the look of surprise and something else - hope? no, it can’t be... - flashing across endeavor’s face startles him, but he’s not about to back down, now. ‘what-... ugh, how much do you think you’d rent out a room for?’

‘what?’ endeavor appears shell-shocked. ‘wh- why?’

‘well, because my apartment building is remodeling, and i’m pretty sick of living in the busier side of the city anyway. figured i’d change it up, move into the suburbs-’

‘that’s not what i’m asking.’ he snaps. ‘why me? don’t you have friends who’d let you stay with them?’

‘not anyone i’d like to move in with.’ hawks shrugs, playing with a few leftover grains of rice. ‘you know, i can cook, and i’m also willing to dry off and put away your damn dishes.’

‘hawks...’

‘c’mon, we can have sleepovers! i can braid your hair and you can braid mine. it will be fun!’

‘i can’t let you do that, hawks.’

‘okay, yes, i admit, your mane’s a little short for a proper french braid, but i can make do-’

‘hawks.’ enji’s voice booms. ‘no.’

‘you’ve known me for almost a decade, old man.’ hawks is talking back, suddenly fired up. ‘why won’t you just let me take care of you?’

‘because i’m a perfectly capable person who doesn’t need anyone to take care of them.’ he huffs, steam seeping from his nose. ‘and because i can’t let you do that to yourself.’

‘what, enji?’ he’s loud. is he shouting? he can’t tell.

‘waste your time on a bitter old man who isn’t worthy of you.’

now they’re pulling up the big guns. hawks deflates, props his head up on his elbows.

‘retired, but still on your self-deprecating bullshit.’ he sighs. ‘will you take it to the grave?’

‘hawks, i’m serious-’

‘and i’ve been serious, too. my entire life, about my feelings for you. you kept shaking me off, saying it wasn’t appropriate for someone your age dating someone so young, saying you were married, but all this time, i kept getting refused because you hate yourself too much to allow yourself to be loved?’

hawks doesn’t know when he stood up, but he’s falling to his knees beside enji now.

‘what kind of an asshole does that...?’ he whispers, staring right into enji’s fearful eyes.

‘an asshole who cares about you.’ enji murmurs, letting hawks hit him in the chest.

‘this isn’t “caring” about someone! this is just lying to yourself and keeping yourself from being happy!’ his fingers tangle in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

‘keigo-’ enji hisses, losing his balance and gripping the edge of the table so he doesn’t fall against the other man.

‘tell me no.’ hawks proposes, his free hand coming up to cradle his jaw, so prickly and manly and strong, the shudder that ripples through him from the gentle touch, making him so weak and vulnerable. ‘no more running away, enji, no more games. tell me no right now, and i won’t ever bother you again.’

endeavor furrows his brows, the skin around his scar pulling grotesquely over his face with the struggle. he takes a deep breath, and hawks gets goosebumps as the hot air from the exhale hits his skin.

‘i can’t...’ enji whispers, and hawks can barely hear over the sound of his heart shattering. he starts to let go, but he forgets to breathe and move altogether as enji leans in instead, hand coming up to hold him close by the back of his head. ‘i can’t say no, not anymore...’

the first touch of lips against his have his insides flutter, almost working him into a panicked frenzy. he can only hope that enji can’t feel his heart beating in his throat as he kisses him, deep and desperate and oh so careful. hawks clings into him, lets him chase him for a change, holds on for the ride.

when they separate, hawks feels dizzy, drunk with heat and pleasure. enji looks just about as much present, he seems dumbfounded.

‘well, uh.’ he says, and hawks would kick anyone who says he doesn’t have a way with words.

‘i can come on thursdays and fridays.’ he offers, for now. ‘that way your kids can still have you on weekends.’

‘thanks.’ that’s all endeavor says before he pushes a few stray strands of hair back from hawks’ face, leans in for another kiss.

it’s a date, then.

[no-other-words]

Just a Bit Closer

Synopsis: Xie Lian suggests taking a relaxing dip in the pond. Hua Cheng slightly freaks out. Rated T | 3400w | canon-divergent, fluff, domestic, slight angst [ Read on AO3 ]

Never again will he be so bold. His Highness follows a path of virtue. His Highness is to be untouched. His Highness—

“San Lang?”

Hua Cheng snaps his head up. Xie Lian’s attention is fully on him, his face half-curious half-amused. He hasn’t been aware that his hands were rolled into fists until now.

“It’s only a bath.”

His Highness is requesting him to bathe with him.

Hua Cheng gulps. He may be a ghost king, but he is not equipped to face this challenge.

---

Hua Cheng has endured much throughout his life.

As a child, love was an alien concept and no friend of his when endless beatings and hate had accompanied him. He’s worn battle scars that no young man’s body should ever had to receive. Wars had been waged against godly figures from the depths of Mount Tonglu to the skies of the Heavenly Court. His soul has died again and again for the anguish that had ceaselessly pierced his one person—yet it is also his soul that lives again and again and refuses to fade.

Hua Cheng is a Devastation, a ghost king, one of the Four Calamities, if not the strongest. His very name demands unwavering respect and brings even the strongest of martial gods to their trembling knees. He’s been through a lot but not one of his past challenges can come close to this.

In just a thin layer of white robe, Xie Lian stands in the middle of the pond. He’s pouring another bucket load of water over his head, completely unaware of the silver allure cast upon him by the soft of the moonlight. His under-robe does nothing to hide the rosy peaks of his hardened nipples, peeking from underneath.

It goads Hua Cheng for a little contact, a little taste.

Long locks of wet hair stick to his skin, drawing out the slender curves down his neck and bony ridges of his collarbones. A few stray strands wound up over Xie Lian’s lips and it reminds Hua Cheng of their kiss in the lake. Their first and most likely the only kiss. The one he bravely stole in the heat of the moment when all he’d meant to do is give Xie Lian a little help.

Necessary on Xie Lian’s part, completely out of line on Hua Cheng’s. He’d let his worst part get to him at the expense of His Highness’ comfort. It’s obvious from Xie Lian’s reaction—a boundary had been crossed that left the martial god catatonic to the point where he had to lie to get away from the situation. The only redeeming hope had been from within Qiandeng Temple, where Xie Lian had thankfully taken to its charm.

His eyebrows pinch and he looks away.

Never again will he be so bold. His Highness follows a path of virtue. His Highness is to be untouched. His Highness—

“San Lang?”

Hua Cheng snaps his head up. Xie Lian’s attention is fully on him, his face half-curious half-amused. He hasn’t been aware that his hands were rolled into fists until now.

“It’s only a bath.”

His Highness is requesting him to bathe with him.

Xie Lian moves to the bank. The closer he gets, the lower the water level around his body becomes and reveals a shapely waist perfect for grabbing onto. Once again, that good-for-nothing under-robe does the opposite of what it’s meant to do and only serves to feed Hua Cheng’s tainted, invasive mind. The translucent material, wet to the core, plasters nicely against Xie Lian’s skin, emitting a pale pink hue.

Hua Cheng gulps.

He may be a ghost king, but he is not equipped to face this challenge.

It had started with a simple question.

“Do ghost kings not take baths?”

Hua Cheng paused mid-sweep and looked back at Xie Lian curiously. They’d been fixing up Puqi Shrine and cleaning the grounds, after leaving it unattended for several days when they went off to catch a runaway fetus spirit. Things were winding down for the day, with Lang Ying washing dishes after a not-so-successful meal and Guzi put to sleep.

“N-not that I mean anything by it! I was just thinking, how we ran around all over the land recently and we just spent a whole day cleaning the shrine, and I haven’t seen you gone washing since.” Xie Lian stopped to reflect. “I suppose there aren’t suitable places around here to properly do so.”

Hua Cheng pulled a small smile and continued to sweep away the last of leaves into a corner. “Gege needn’t worry to justify his questions. Any curious thoughts arise, this San Lang will gladly answer. I don’t know about the other ones and I don’t care to, but this one does well to remember to be clean. It would be an offence not to.”

He faltered and quickly added, “Does gege think this San Lang is filthy? I will—”

“Ah no! Like you said, it was just a curious thought” Xie Lian says. His eyes then sparkled, caught bright under the gleam of moonlight. “How about we take a dip in the pond nearby? It’s a nice little spot I found not so long ago, with a waterfall. The night is still early. I’m sure it’ll help expel the last of the adrenaline from our recent voyage.”

Which is how Crimson Rain Sought Flower has found himself in this current predicament.

Much to Hua Cheng’s dismay, it doesn’t really expel much. If anything, it invites more adrenaline and that is not what he needs right now. To be so close, in the intimate space of such private practices—Hua Cheng calls upon the 800 years of learned patience and discipline.

Xie Lian is still waiting for him. “Something the matter? I promise, this time there are no demon babies in the water.”

“…I’m dirty.”

“That’s the point, San Lang.”

That unassuming smile graces his face, as ethereal under the night sky as the time when Hua Cheng pulled him out of the lake in rescue.

How can he say no to his god?

He feels an excited trembling at his side and Hua Cheng looks down to see E’Ming wiggling to get out. A soft chuckle runs through the air.

“See? Even E’Ming wants a wash.”

Hua Cheng slaps his weapon in annoyance. “Ignore it, gege. This thing just wants to play.”

As if Hua Cheng had said a magic word, the silk band around Xie Lian’s wrist slithers itself free and gently glides towards him. Without warning, Ruoye grabs him by the waist and tugs him into the pond. Hua Cheng surfaces just in time to hear Xie Lian laugh. It’s music in the making and he hopes to hear more of it for the rest of his time.

“Looks like Ruoye wants to play too,” Xie Lian teases.

E’Ming responds by unsheathing itself and splashing water towards the white ribbon. The two sentient weapons go at it nearby, chasing frantically at each other in an almost comic-like scene. It comes to a quick pause when E’Ming casts a rather large wave of water right in Xie Lian’s direction and Hua Cheng blocks the attack with his arm.

The demon lord shoots his weapon a cold killing look. Xie Lian meanwhile tugs on an assailing Ruoye and reminds all three of them, “gentle”.

Reprimanded, E’Ming and Ruoye calm down and go off to find other ways to play. Xie Lian then turns his attention back to Hua Cheng. “San Lang, will you hand me your robe? It’s gotten dirtied from all the chores today. I’ll wash it together with mine.”

If Hua Cheng still had a beating heart, it’d be skipping out from his chest. But he doesn’t and it’s a momentary reminder of the many boundaries he mustn’t cross over. He stands unmoving, a good distance from Xie Lian.

“Is Your Highness suggesting that he wishes to see this San Lang strip? That is quite a bold request.”

“Your outer robes, San Lang! No teasing, please.”

“This one wouldn’t dare.”

Nevertheless, Hua Cheng takes pride in observing the red flush on Xie Lian’s cheeks. Rosy and heated, it’s a gorgeous contrast to his pale white skin. He often wonders what other things can make Xie Lian blush like that. A simple touch on his neck, a nip at his ear, perhaps a kiss on his—

He stops. Stop stop stop. His Highness would not appreciate these inappropriate thoughts.

His Highness, who is currently scrubbing his clothes, as if it’s not a baseless and undeserving task for a martial god to do. He does it so earnestly, as he does with everything else. Xie Lian’s eyebrows scrunch with concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out from habit. Hua Cheng quietly watches, peeking under his arms as he lathers soap into his hair. This is a treasured moment not to be missed.

“It’s not the grand bathhouse I’m sure San Lang has in his manor, but I find this spot to be very relaxing,” Xie Lian says in a soft tone. “Hidden astray from the main road, not a lot of villagers know of its location. Nature is untouched here and it helps me ground myself.”

“My bathhouse is nothing compared to this. If gege wishes, I can build a fence around the area. Prevent outsiders from trespassing.”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian chortles, “if people pass by, they pass by. If they don’t, they don’t. This place isn’t mine. None of it is, even Puqi Shrine. I’m merely borrowing the land from which the earth has gifted me.”

Hua Cheng sneaks a loving smile. He’s always admired this side of him.

After one final dunk in the water, Xie Lian wrings both their now-cleaned robes dry and drapes them over a low-hanging branch. He gives the red robe a long look, contemplation washing over.

“San Lang, if I may brazenly ask…”

Hua Cheng halts his scrubbing to give the man his full attention.

“Earlier when you said…it would be an offence…to whom would it be an offence?”

It takes several words out before Xie Lian flutters his gaze up to Hua Cheng, already bashful from making such an inquiry. But once Hua Cheng catches his eyes, he does all he can to hold them. He wills them not to look away, yearning to convey all the feelings locked inside. The fires, the bliss, the ten thousand words he’s thought up to say in the past eight hundred years. All the little tingles of emotions bottled up and will continue to be so for he has a beloved and that beloved cannot know.

Hua Cheng tilts his head slightly forward and softens his gaze. “Someone very important.”

A short moment of silence pass before Xie Lian hums in understanding. He grabs hold of the wooden bucket, floating forgotten nearby, and returns to his own washing.

“San Lang is a very earnest person.”

Only for his one god.

“Gege is not going to question further?”

“Whatever San Lang is willing to tell me, I will listen with gratitude. I trust you have your reasons.”

Hua Cheng purses his lips, not knowing what to do with this level of trust. So he dunks his head underwater and scrubs harshly at his hair. He’s determined to get all the dirt out. All that filth that sticks to him like a parasite, refusing to leave this place that Xie Lian considers his haven.

Get out. Get out get out get out. His Highness, in all his lack of self-preservation, has invited a Devastation for a private bath and all he wants to do is touch and feel and be close, so so close with him. Patience is his forte – it’s something he’s nurtured in the past centuries but there are moments of weakness. Moments like this when he cannot contain himself and wish he can kiss gege again.

Be a thief and steal another piece of bliss.

Hua Cheng lifts his head out, a thick curtain of black hair fall around his face. He’s done now, all necessary washing complete. He should get out of the pond and wait by the sidelines.

A warm hand places on his shoulder. Hua Cheng startles at Xie Lian’s sudden closeness.

“San Lang, that is not how you wash your hair,” Xie Lian chides, a slight pout to his displeased face. “You must treat it gently else you can get knots like that. Here, let me.”

Xie Lian pulls him towards the small waterfall in the corner, leading a winding path so they stay on a shallow path. Hua Cheng lets himself be turned around and a second later, feels gentle combing down his hair. He lowers himself to a kneeling position so Xie Lian doesn’t have to tip toe.

Somewhere in the depths of his chest, a ghost heart beats.

Here, under the lull of the waterfall and vigil of the moon, a god washes his follower’s hair. The consistent rhythm of Xie Lian’s fingers massaging soap on top of his scalp and combing through his hair length brings a soothing pleasure. It is here that Hua Cheng braves to think that once again, Xie Lian is okay with his touch.

“My mother used to brush my hair while I bathed.”

Somehow, Hua Cheng can imagine an overindulged young prince melting under his Empress Mother’s loving attention, just as he’s so lucky to be experiencing the same.

“Am I currently as well-behaved as gege was back then?”

Xie Lian answers with a light chuckle, “very. In fact, I was more of a troublemaker. I’d often want to go swimming and try to wiggle out of her grasps. Mother was always too lenient.”

“With good reason, I’m sure. Gege was a beloved son—” Hua Cheng stops, not wanting to bring up unsavoury memories, and quickly corrects himself. “And must have been very adorable in his mother’s eyes.”

His hair is tugged playfully. “Cheeky San Lang.”

Fingers run along his hairline, gently pulling back to catch every strand. When the same hand moves down to his ears and brushes against the outer skin, Hua Cheng shivers in delight. It feels like something forbidden, one he gladly welcomes. No one has ever come this close in contact and Hua Cheng resolves from here on out that only Xie Lian will have the privilege.

Washing turns to a pleasant session of grooming. Hua Cheng’s sure his hair is more than clean but he stays quiet in favour of Xie Lian’s touch. His eyes drift to a lazy close, the peace creeping up on him so sneakily that he almost misses Xie Lian’s murmurs.

“I don’t…I rarely reminisce on old memories, especially ones involving my parents. They were from so long ago.”

An image of the Xianle Empress flashes in Hua Cheng’s mind. She’d been looking worryingly over him, from that time when he’d been rescued from Xie Lian’s bastard cousin.

“Then San Lang is very happy that gege is sharing a piece of his memory with him.”

He’s rewarded with a final stroke of his hair before he’s pulled towards the waterfall.

“Come, rinse. Stand under here, the water is not that heavy.”

Hua Cheng dutifully complies, happy under Xie Lian’s full attention and care. When the waterfall hits him, he tips his head slightly back and feels the suds slide down his hair. He hums in pleasure.

“Gege is right, this is very relaxing.”

Hearing no response, Hua Cheng opens his eyes. Xie Lian is wearing a dazed look, his eyes round and staring at him almost in a trancelike state. Lips slightly parted, as if in shock after discovering something unexpected.

“Your Highness?”

That seems to shake Xie Lian out of his stupor. He swiftly looks away, a nervous smile slapped on to hide the quiver in his voice.

“Ah—sorry. You’re done. Clean now…I’ll leave you. Give you priva—ah!”

Xie Lian slips on a rock in an attempt to quickly turn away. Instincts take over and Hua Cheng moves to catch him by the waist, his arm holding firm.

“S-San Lang…”

Only when Hua Cheng registers that Xie Lian is safe and away from immediate harm that he notices their close proximity. Senses become hyperaware towards the man in his embrace—the heat emitting from Xie Lian’s stuttered breathes, the pounding of his very alive heart, the skin…

Oh the warm hot skin that sends tingles through every cell currently in contact with Hua Cheng. Only a mere thin material stands between them and it’s oddly erotic to feel the cold wetness. Hua Cheng flexes his arm and watches in satisfaction the way Xie Lian jumps. His muscles feel both hard and soft under his hold and Hua Cheng would like nothing but to memorize the ridges and curves.

“San Lang, I’m—I’m cold.”

This time, he’s barely whispering.

Hua Cheng takes mercy and slowly unwraps his arm around Xie Lian and steadies the man. “Gege, be careful.”

He receives no response but he doesn’t need to. That bright red blush on his face is enough to lift the heavy weight off his chest and unchain the shackles that has settled over ever since the time when Xie Lian scrambled away their kiss. Perhaps this is different.

Hua Cheng finishes rinsing himself under the waterfall, glancing over at Xie Lian from time to time making sure he’s alright. The god seems to be back to a normal state, no longer moving in jerky ways. They’re alright. It’s going to be okay.

He can stay by His Highness’ side for just a bit longer.

When time comes for them to wrap up, Hua Cheng grabs both of their outer robes from the branch. It’s still rather damp but better than having no covering on. Which…would be quite a problem because Xie Lian’s slowly getting out of the water, not even at all mindful of the obscene display he’s putting on.

Hua Cheng blames that under-robe once again. It molds perfectly to Xie Lian’s wet skin and paints a pretty pink picture of his naked body underneath. Hua Cheng accidentally catches sight of a rather perfectly-round bottom before looking away. Thick clouds roll over the moon, dampening any source of light. At least there is some protection to Xie Lian’s virtue by the night’s shadows.

But imagination doesn’t discriminate, not to a ghost king’s mind and definitely not to a cursed weapon with a cursed eye.

E’Ming jumps at the sight of Xie Lian, joyous to see its master’s beloved come up to the shore and even more so to see him…in that state. It does a shuddering whirl before launching itself at the man.

Hua Cheng makes a displeased sound and is about to snap his fingers when Ruoye whips around E’Ming and covers its red eye. The two weapons wrestle a short while before the scimitar gives and compliantly calms.

Hua Cheng huffs. Damn thing will have a beating later as punishment for even thinking of peeking.

Their walk back to Puqi Shrine is short but sweet. Now without the bright moon, there isn’t much light for Xie Lian to see. Luckily, Hua Cheng’s silver butterflies illuminate their path and the two take to an extra slow pace.

“They’re so lovely,” Xie Lian comments with a soft smile, a warm husk to his tone. He lifts a finger that a bold butterfly has landed on and watches its wings open and close. “I’ve seen them in action, but they’re so gentle and beautiful and—and…enchanting!”

Hua Cheng gives a teasing voice. “Gege, stop. San Lang can only take so many compliments in a day.”

“The butterflies, San Lang.”

“Oh? I guess I am none of these words that gege commends on.”

Xie Lian pauses and turns his attention on him. “That’s not what I mean! I said—well…San Lang is also gentle. And lovely.”

The smile on the ghost king’s face is ever-growing.

“Anyways! That was quite refreshing, right? I can already feel my muscles relax.”

He, too, can feel Xie Lian’s muscles. Hua Cheng’s fingers wiggle on impulse and he quickly brings his hands behind his back.

“Gege’s suggestions are always the best. I am at my cleanest state.”

Xie Lian laughs and the butterflies flutter to the musical cadence. One floats near Hua Cheng and he reaches to gently play with it. His hand grazes Hua Cheng’s shoulder and the latter promptly looks at Xie Lian, searching for any signs of discomfort.

None. Xie Lian is unaffected.

The butterflies grow more daring by the second and surround the god in an illuminating circle. He in turn gives every butterfly a chance of contact with his hands and hums in delight.

Hua Cheng relishes in the sight before him.

Perhaps it’s okay to be this close. Perhaps even in a way Hua Cheng hasn’t dared to think of before. And someday…maybe someday he can show His Highness just how close he desires to be.

---

a/n: somewhere between these paragraphs, dianxia drops the soap. cue shower-sex scene.

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Sixteen | Dummy! (Part 3 of 3)

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Dinner is about as awkward as waving back at someone you think's waving at you, only to then realize they're actually waving at someone else.

Frisk stares at your guest from beginning to end, only looking back to their bowl when they’re done with it. They grab a piece of bread and soak up what little soup remains at the bottom and say, “You’re not a bad cook", after. They take a bite off the bread; the rest of it disappears in three more. “Is this ren's way of testing whether you'll be a good boyfriend or not?”

Sans swallows hard and coughs once to recover as he sets his spoon down. “Well, uh… Somethin’ like that, I guess.” He casts a subtle glance at you, his gaze asking for help.

“We’re not dating,” you intervene. You take some soup, but end up throwing it back in the bowl when your hand shakes, too tense to continue eating. “You and Jerry just so happened to walk in at the wrong moment, making it look like something else.”

Frisk frowns, and a dull expression reaches their eyes. “I can tell you’re lying, ren. You’re bad at it.” Their gaze moves back towards Sans, who’s now finished with his bowl and trying to move away from the conversation. “What about you, then? Why’re you chickening out if you still wanna date (Y/N)?” They furrow their eyebrows and glare at the monster. “Why are you-“

“That’s enough, honey.” You stand up and face down at them. “This isn’t his fau-“

“So then, it’s yours?” Their voice breaks as they're the one to rise next; their hands thump over the table and their frown quivers as they attempt not to show any weakness. “He… He flirted with you, so that means he’s also responsible for it!”

“I said that’s enough, Frisk (L/N),” you snap, crossing your arms. “I’m okay with talking about this with you, but not during dinner. And even less when we have a guest over.” You plan to pick up the dishes, though the skeleton beats you to it, excusing himself off to the kitchen. “I’m not dating him, and that's final. That only happened ‘cause we kind of like each other. But I refuse to date anyone until you’re all grown up.”

“You’ll be old by then,” they whine, flailing their arms. “Grandparents can’t date!”

“Yes, they can.” You go along with the ridiculousness of the conversation, too caught up in it to fully assess their words. “And ten more years won’t make me a grandparent! I’m still young.”

Frisk huffs and switches for sign language, saying, “That still doesn’t mean you have to live like this.” They grimace, eyes wetting as they sniffle once. “I like seeing you happy… But right now, this just makes me feel like I'm bothering you.”

Your anger falls with that last sentence; panic replaces it.

In a haste, you try approaching their side, though they run off to their room just as you’re ready to bring them in for a hug. Their steps are quick and the door shuts with a subtle bang, their composure still showing through. You stay in place as their words replay on your mind over and over, gloom arriving. Dismissing them is an impossible feat; your mind continues to subject your thoughts into negativity, restraining you from acting quickly.

If you’d been doing a poor job at raising them this whole time, then what had been the point of it all?

Needing a distraction, you head to the kitchen and join Sans by the sink, no words spoken between you.

He washes the dishes while you dry and store them away, keeping up a rhythmic pace until only the pot’s left. Your gaze focuses on his arms, jacket’s sleeves lifted all the way up to his elbows, revealing the oddity of who you were growing attracted to. His shirt's a bit loose by the neck, presenting you with his collarbones as you spare a peek under it. You're still adapting to the strangeness of having someone look so similar to a human skeleton, yet so different all the same. He could breathe, laugh, move, talk... and even kiss based on first-hand experience. His skull wasn't entirely solid, allowing him to blink, eat, and drink -- besides from what you were thinking of whenever you stared at his face and down at his teeth. You tell yourself it’s wrong to be befriending him, and even worse finding any attraction in him. You’re not sure how to interpret his words from earlier ago, and just what it meant to see him break down like he had.

He’d revealed he disliked who he used to be, but did he remember having said it?

From your experience, moments like those were hard to keep clear.

“Do you… remember what you said to me, Sans?”

His hands stop what they’re doing, one grabbing the knob -- ready to open the faucet -- and the other holding the pot, now coated in suds. He looks up at you, saying, “I cried, didn’t I? Don’t really remember word-for-word, but I know I meant what I said.”

You take a breather before responding with, “Even the part about hating who you used to be?”

Sans turns the knob, letting water pour down. “Yeah.” He nods, heaving out a sigh. “The more I look back and reflect on who I used to be, the more I understand why you don’t trust me.” The pot’s close to overflowing, though he doesn’t notice. You step in and place your hand over his, closing the faucet. Unaddressed tension remains as you stare down at his hand, yet you refuse to let it show, repelled by the idea of taking advantage of his vulnerability. You don’t want to engage in anything like your stay at the hotel again until you sorted out your mind and its jumble of thoughts, nor do you wish to romanticize his self-hatred by fulfilling your wants. “...I, uh, I get it now. And I promise I’ll stop flirtin' now that I know it.”

The monster pulls his hand away and takes the pot with both, emptying the soapy water down the drain. He does it little by little, preventing a flood in the sink. “Did Jerry say something about this?” you ask, taking the pot when he gives it to you. You hang the current towel and take a dryer, cleaner one from the rack. Then, you continue, finishing with the job. “He looked at you weird.”

He chuckles and meets with your eyes. “Maybe ‘cause I was all over you for a second there?”

You glare at him, lips doing the opposite by tugging into a grin, one you try to fight back. “Cut the sarcasm.” You jab his waist, smile growing. “You know what I mean."

“Let him think what he wants to think. I knew you before I knew him, and you guys haven’t been together for years. You’re your own person, and so’s him. If he doesn’t want to keep being friends, then that’s fine with me.”

You glance over to the time on the wall clock, seeing it’s already seven. With the frequent rain, the monster was forced to store his motorcycle away while it cleared out some more, and -- to make up for it -- his brother was now the one to either lend him his car, or take him where he needed to be. In short, letting him go back home would mean calling Papyrus two hours right before his sleep schedule. Either that, or it was sending Sans all alone off to the nearest bus stop.

You settle on neither, saying, "Want to stay over? It's late, and I've got a guest bedroom you can use."

He snickers and replies with, "Worried 'bout me?" When he notices, his grin falls, and he quickly makes up for it by adding, "Sorry. Doing that's pretty much a reflex now."

You smile and swat his shoulder, keeping your hand there. "...I don't really mind you flirting that way. I like it better than when you're straight-up obvious about it."

"Like the Mx. Serif thing?"

"Exactly." You shift on your feet, remembering one of his older comments. "That, and the ones you used to make about my... appearance."

"So you want me to be less invasive," he says, nodding. "Got it." He tries not to look down, a slight tense present in his grin. "I apologize if I ever made ya uncomfortable. I'm surprised you didn't just whack me over the head back then. Feels like I deserved it sometimes."

"Violence is not the answer." You pause, face regaining seriousness. "...Unless you cross borders you shouldn't be crossing."

"Kinda like what happened on the couch today?"

"No." You feel your throat ache the longer you talk with him, still too awkward to relax around him. "...I wanted it back then."

Sans washes his hands and gives you space to do the same. Then, he brings his sleeves down and waits until you're done washing up to accompany you to the living room. "Touch-starved?" he jokes, though you're far from taking it that way.

Seven years.

Not that you were completely, utterly desperate for a relationship, but good company was still good company. You could still use the warmth of someone else, even if it was purely platonic or familiar -- like a tight hug, or just someone else to have around the house. Wanting to depend less on Jerry's support and more on your own funds, you proposed to yourself working extra hours for as long as it was necessary. The rest of your day was either used up in chores or in spending more time with Frisk. It's only now that the monsters help you out with your child and their growth that you have additional time to do stuff like this.

"...Yes," you reply, looking away. "But that can wait."

You excuse yourself and head over to the fridge, needing some water to cure the sudden soreness to your throat; that, and you didn't really want to keep tangling yourself up in that mess.

When you've just about drank more than half a gallon, you stop and take in a deep breath, bringing yourself back to calm.

Regardless of what Frisk and Sans himself had said about living for yourself every so often, you had your set of goals already planned out. Speed-running through a relationship wasn't one, and even less considering the subject's past. You needed to know him and his intentions better before throwing yourself into it -- more than usual.

Two years of pointless arguments between you and Jerry had been enough to last you a lifetime; one of them was even more than pointless, considering you divorced by your first year. You never understood the point of submitting a child to the sight of continuous arguments if you could just find a way to stop becoming involved in what was causing that. You didn't want Frisk to feel like the root of all your problems, nor did you wish to make them feel as if they had to redeem themselves for something that wasn't even their fault to begin with. It was difficult to comprehend the thought-process behind calling out how many finances were spent on them, unless they were being a spoiled brat about it. Guilting them over the good things they had and belittling their troubles through constant comparison wasn't what you wanted, either.

But did it all have to be done by you limiting your own life and enjoyments?

Sans's advice and Frisk's words get to you, these you try to brush off for the moment being.

Fixing your situation with the monsters was more important than that.

"Ren?" a familiar voice calls out, stopping your speeding train of thought. "Is Sans staying over tonight?"

Your body freezes up, face doing the opposite.

Out of all the people you could’ve chosen to be attracted to, it had to be a person whose existence you were barely aware of until a few months ago, who you would've sworn was a contradiction to science as you knew it, and whose flirting techniques were about as low quality as a school lunch's ‘pizza’ Friday. “Yes,” you say, drinking another glass. You’ve already drank more than enough, but stress makes you want more. “It would be rude to send him home with how late it is.”

“You just want him to stay longer, don’t you?”

“That’s none of your concern, dear.”

You serve them a glass of milk, kiss their cheek, and shoo them off to bed, slumping against the fridge when they’re gone. The sound of the television being turned on follows when their footsteps grow faint, and you can hear them exchange a few words with the skeleton, though none of these you can get to understand clearly, standing so far away. “That’s their favourite movie!” is the only sentence you can decipher from them, words exclaimed. “Have fun!” They run off, footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Finally left with Sans again, you return to the living room to see him resting on the same side you’d been pinned to on the couch. You try not to remember, yet your mind proves to be cruel as it reminds you over the subtle warmth of his hands, the scent of your soap on him, and him being so close to take initiative by being the one to almost kiss you on the lips. You’d been the one to do that the first time you kissed him on the cheek back at Mettaton's hotel, though you tell yourself it was nothing special. It was mostly the heat of the moment that had caused you both to take it easy, after all. Today was an entirely different story. Compared to your approach, his was a much more complex and slow building one, waiting for you to better process his intentions and reciprocate his actions with far more sincerity compared to your stay at the hotel.

In short, you wanted to kiss him, but for real this time.

“You doin' okay?” Sans asks, seeing you arrive; he scoots further away, a simple gesture for you to sit down and join him.

“I’m... I'm okay,” you reply, nodding. “But are you really gonna watch that?” You point with your eyes at the television, your favourite movie still playing. “It’s a little lame.”

“Don’t lie.” He grins and hangs an arm behind the couch again when you settle next to him. “I’m pretty sure the kid said it’s your favourite.”

“Out of that particular genre, yes.” You stare at the screen, displaying a scene not too fitting for your situation, yet not completely out of touch either. It gives space for you to talk with him, no awkward romance scenes happening at the moment, and no loud, action-packed scenarios occurring either. Without a word, you move closer to him, letting his arm wrap around your shoulders as he brings you nearer, face resting against his chest. “Have you watched it before?”

“Today’s my first,” he says, hand lowering to your waist. He does nothing else, giving space for you to cozy up next to him the way you best deemed fit. “Feelin’ better now? You can stay for s’long as ya need.”

Aware the monster's referencing your no short of embarrassing confession from before, you shift to a straighter position, meet his irises, and glare up at him. Rather than throwing a remark back at the skeleton, you figure it’s now best to kill him with kindness. You take his cheekbone, smile, and stroke his face, smiling to better accomplish your payback.

When he looks at you -- far too earnest and warm for your liking -- you flinch and have a sudden, unconscious change of plans.

“You’re enough, you know that?” you comment, words practically slipping from your mouth. “Maybe I don’t fully understand what happened at the Underground, but... But I'd say you’ve shown you care enough to improve things you don’t like about yourself. And you've also been pretty blunt and honest with me so far, so there’s that, too.” You kiss his cheekbone, ending on a note far more wholehearted than you originally intended your payback to be. “Try to remember that next time you start criticizing yourself like that again.”

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• • •

Hello!

Before getting into some important stuff, this was meant to be yesterday's update, but I didn't have my laptop available at the time, hence the delay! I was able to update on other sites, but here I use the "keep reading" feature, which can only be accessed through a computer. (As far as my knowledge of that goes, of course -- I'm still learning how to use Tumblr!)

Now, moving to the important stuff:

A few changes will be going underway soon, such as adding the chapter navigation at the bottom of each update from the Prologue to Chapter Ten. As I mentioned in a previous author note about how late I realized I was missing something necessary for clicking on the next chapter more easily: I'm a dumbass, lol.

Also, I've made the decision of creating separate fanfics for the 4 other characters tagged in this story, along with a poll to decide which one I should work with first (as it was shown at the end of Chapter Fifteen, we've finally reached the exposition part of this fanfic, meaning other relationships will be introduced soon)! The reason why is not only to avoid coming off as misleading for those who're looking for a fanfic of that specific character only, but because rewriting this story led to it becoming much more slow burning, thus delaying the relationship development with plenty of characters. As a result, I'll modify the tags to all 16 chapters that've been published so far!

Hopefully, all those changes will be finished by next Friday. :-)

As always, take care and stay safe!

• • •

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