#caretaker!San

[whats-k-popping]

Hello! For the prompt list, could you write 5 & 49 with Seonghwa as the sick one and San as the caretaker? I love their brotherly dynamic~ Thank you!

I'm so sorry this request is about 9 months old! If you're still here, anon, I hope you enjoy this fic. I really did enjoy writing it and I love the dynamic between these two!

Pairing: Seonghwa x San - platonic intentions, but read as you please

Prompts: "Try and get some food down. Anything" || "Sorry. I'm… I'm really dizzy" 

Words Count: 2489

Warnings: Illness || Emeto || Graphic Descriptions of Sickness

San doesn't usually wake up in the middle of the night. He has a very thorough nightly routine that he completes meticulously each evening. He spends upwards of an hour in the bathroom each night, completing his skin care and dental care and emptying himself of anything that might disturb his precious hours of uninterrupted sleep. He swears by this routine. Sleeping in his own bed is a luxury these days, so he doesn't even want to waste 1 precious minute on something as trivial as using the bathroom. 

So he's naturally disgruntled when he wakes in the middle of the night unable to quickly doze back to sleep. Despite his nightly rituals, he still finds himself having to pee at half past 3 in the morning. He blames it on drinking Mingi's leftover coffee. Can't let precious caffeine go to waste either. He only feels a hint of remorse. 

Begrudgingly, he throws the covers off of himself and hustles down to the bathroom. If he's quick, he might be able to get it done without losing the fuzzy feeling of sleep. In and out, then back to sleep. That's the plan. 

That plan comes to a screeching halt when he enters the bathroom to find Seonghwa draped across the toilet seat, skin white as a ghost. And if the sight isn't enough of a clue, there's an overpowering stench of vomit lingering in the air. 

"Hwa-hyung!" San exclaims. He stands petrified in the doorway, like he's awaiting further instruction. He's not really sure what he's supposed to do. Seonghwa is the caretaker of the group, how is he supposed to take care of him. 

Seonghwa lifts his head to look at San, a pained expression on his face and a vacant look in his eyes. He shushes the younger, "You'll-" He cuts himself off with a nauseous burp, "You'll wake Mingi."

Of course, even draped helplessly over the only toilet in their apartment, looking minutes away from comatose, Seonghwa is still thinking about the others. San clicks his tongue. And Mingi, of all people, a historically heavy sleeper. The building could be mid-demolition and he'd be none the wiser. "No I won't," San says confidently. Still he lowers his voice just for good measure. 

The remnants of sleep are gone and he's on high alert now. He knows he won't be able to go back to sleep knowing that his hyung is feeling so miserably unwell. So he enters the small bathroom and closes the door behind him for privacy. He also turns on the bathroom fan, to hopefully ventilate some of the smell out of the room. 

"Don't come any closer, San-ah." Seonghwa stops mid-command to gag. It's unnaturally loud, echoing in the now sealed room, but unproductive. "I might be contagious." 

"I don't care." San replies without thinking, like it's the most natural response in the world. "You need help." 

Seonghwa shakes his head, not making any eye-contact with the younger. "I can take care of myself." He says in such a way that San can't help but be skeptical. "You're younger than me. I'm not your responsibility." 

"You're my hyung," San stands his ground, already resolved to help Seonghwa. At least through the night, he can let Hongjoong know in the morning and they can work out a more long-term plan from there. "And my family is my responsibility." 

Seonghwa looks like he has another objection queued up, but before he can respond he bows his head into the toilet bowl when the formerly unproductive gag returns. This time, a slurry of sick pours out his open mouth. The oldest whimpers and moans as he stomach convulses to get every last drop out of him. 

San notices it's mostly clear and speculates that Seonghwa has been throwing up for so long that he's empty. Since they all ate the same thing, he concludes it's likely a stomach bug, not a lone case of food poisoning. While Seonghwa continues to stare into the bowl, San takes the opportunity to approach his hyung. He crouches down next to him and runs a hand along his back, "You're okay. Get it out. That's good." He whispers sweet reassurances until the episode is over. 

All the tension leaves Seonghwa's body at once, leaving him slack against the toilet seat. San's hand on his back distracts him from the cramping in his stomach, so for now he stops trying to shoo the younger away. The attention actually feels kind of nice, reminds him of home, of being the youngest in the family. Reminds him of how much he misses it. 

The porcelain seat is cold, but San's body is teeming with warmth. He craves that warmth, the comfort that comes with physical contact. It's more alluring than the ceramic bowl. It takes way more effort than it should, but he pushes himself off the toilet seat and into San's open arms. 

San sees Seonghwa's intention and helps him settle in, wrapping his arms comfortingly around his hyung. He uses just enough pressure so that he's hugging, but not squeezing. "Poor hyung, you really must not be feeling well." He soothes, pressing a kiss to Seonghwa's sweaty temple.  

Seonghwa whines, a long drawn out sound that might be an affirmative. He mumbles something about "hurt" and "cold" but all the words are muffled against San's shoulder. 

"C'mon, why don't we get you back to bed?" San suggests. He contemplates getting his hyung in the shower, but decides against it given the elder's weak state. Maybe when some of his energy returns, he'll push for a shower. 

"Couch," Seonghwa counters. 

San's eyebrow raises in curiosity, "You don't want to sleep in your bed. It's much more comfortable than the couch." He recommends, "If you're still worried about waking Mingi, don't be. His door is closed." 

Seonghwa shakes his head the tiniest bit. If San hadn't been critically analyzing his hyung's every movement, he would have missed it. "Not about Mingi," Seonghwa insists. His eyes start to water and his lower lip quivers. "Please, just couch." He begs through a sob. 

Though San doesn't totally understand why, he can tell it's a sensitive topic and surrenders. "Okay, okay," he hushes, "I'll take you to the couch. I'll set up a nice, soft blanket for you and get you extra pillows. Okay, how does that sound?" Seonghwa does like the sound of that, he affirms it with a small "mmhm." 

San pushes Seonghwa away just long enough to stand up on his own. Once he's on his feet, he holds out a hand to his hyung, "Can you stand?" 

Seonghwa holds the outstretched hand, squeezing it with all the might he can muster. He uses his other hand to hold into the edge of the sink, trying to get himself up. He makes it onto his knees, but can't make it any further. With a sniffle, he shakes his head sadly at his dongsaeng. 

San doesn't question it or force anything more from his hyung. He simply steps in and helps Seonghwa to his feet, shouldering much of his hyung's weight onto himself. "There we go, wanna try walking?" When Seonghwa doesn't object, San takes a tentative step forward, out of the bathroom. Seonghwa follows on wobbling knees. 

They make it to the entrance of the living room area when Seonghwa nearly throws himself against the wall. He clings to the wall, slowly sliding down until he's on the floor, head pressed against the wall. San crawls next to him, "What's wrong?" 

"Sorry, I'm… I feel really dizzy." He explains his sudden transition to the floor. "I just need a minute." 

There's a cold hand pressed against Seonghwa's forehead, something to focus on that will hopefully make his world stop spinning. Even with his eyes closed, he feels like he's riding a carousel at 160 kph. "You're burning up." The younger gasps like this is new information. Seonghwa has known of the fever for hours. "And you're probably dehydrated too. We've gotta get some liquid in you." 

A panic shoots through San as he scans the room, hoping that by some miracle someone might be there to help him. But he knows deep down that it's a lost cause. It's still the middle of the night. And the only other person in the apartment is sound asleep. So it's all up to him. "Stay here, okay?" He encourages, "I'm gonna get stuff ready for you." 

Seonghwa just nods, hand resting on his bloated stomach. Without San's cool hand to ground him, his mind is back to whirling around the carousel. He presses his head against the wall and whimpers until San's return. He has no way of knowing if seconds, minutes, or hours pass in his misery. 

San can hear Seonghwa's lonely cries as he passes through the apartment. He starts in the kitchen, setting on a kettle for tea and rummaging through the mostly barren cabinets, swearing up and down that he'd seen a sleeve of crackers lying untouched just a few days ago. When the crackers don’t turn up, San whispers out a curse and peers around for something else that would be easy on his hyung’s stomach. A bowl of jook would be ideal, but that will take a long time to prepare. Seonghwa needs nutrients now. 

He creates a tray of snacks, containing stray food they had in the apartment. He slices up every kind of fruit he could find, microwaves an instant noodle cup and set the flavor packet aside, and he borrowed one of Mingi’s favorite jello cups. San pours the whistling kettle over a peppermint tea bag and allows it to steep for only 1 minute, not wanting the tea to be too strong. Then he adds an electrolyte drink to the tray for good measure before carrying it out to the coffee table. 

He passes through the corridor again, paying Seonghwa little mind. It seems the older has started to drift off as he rested against the wall. San figures it just buys him time to finish setting up the living room. He takes a quick detour to his hyung's room to gather some additional supplies. 

Upon entering the room, San's hit with the smell of vomit. It doesn't take him long to notice the shallow pool of vomit beside the bed. He follows the trail up and sees another small puddle among the bedsheets. It's suddenly abundantly clear why Seonghwa was so adamant about not returning to his room, feeling too sickly to face the mess he'd made at some earlier point in the night. 

He decides to leave the mess for now, recentering his goal of getting Seonghwa nourished, medicated, and rested. He pulls out some fresh clothes for his hyung, figuring that his current outfit is either sweat soaked or vomit stained. Likely a putrid combination of both. 

He forgoes stealing the blankets off Seonghwa's bed and opts to take the bedding from his own room. But he makes sure to pick up Seonghwa’s Star Wars blanket for some familiarity and comfort. It's a child sized blanket. It hardly covers his torso effectively. But it's a great comfort to Seonghwa, especially when he's feeling sick or overly tired. 

Once San spreads out all the blankets to cover the scratchy fabric of the couch, he returns to find his hyung dozed off right where he's left him. He nudges the older awake. “Hwa-hyung, wake up.” He whispers, “You shouldn't sleep here.” 

Ever the light sleeper, Seonghwa rouses, though he immediately resumes his whimpers. “don't wanna get up.” A sob dies out in the back of his throat, “don't feel good.”

“I know you don't hyung,” San sympathizes, “but I have some things set up that will make you feel better.” He doesn't allow time for Seonghwa to refute before he's helping the older man to his feet and guiding him to the couch. 

Seonghwa's whole weight falls onto the couch, ready to sleep as soon as his head hits the pillow that San had laid out for him. He draws the Star Wars blanket close to his face and lets out a relaxed sigh. It feels like home. 

“No, not just yet hyung.” San nearly shouts just to get his hyung's attention. “First, try and get some food down.” He gestures to the options displayed on the coffee table. “Anything, please.” 

“Sannie, my stomach hurts” The older man slurs. “I don't think I can eat anything.” 

“Hyung,” San's voice morphs into a gentle scolding tone. “You need to eat something.” 

“No!” Seonghwa whimpers. “I just need to sleep.” 

“You know if the roles were reversed, you'd be trying to make me eat something.” San doesn't back down, despite his hyung's bratty behavior. He gives up on asking, opting to use a bit more force. He picks up the electrolyte drink and points the straw to Seonghwa’s lips. “take a sip.” 

When Seonghwa opens his mouth to refuse, the straw slides between his lips. He manages three small sips before he pushes the straw out of his mouth. “Cold.” He whines. 

“How about some tea, it's nice and warm by now.” San replaces the drink bottle with the tea cup. “Sit up a bit, I'll help you.” 

Seonghwa finally does as he's told. Propping himself up enough so San can tip the cup against his lips. The tea is warm, sends a wave of comfort through his chilled limbs. And the weak peppermint flavor coats his bubbling stomach. Still, he pushes San away before he's finished the cup. He just found this new comfort, he doesn't want to risk it by filling up too fast. 

San sets the cup down, “jello or apples?” He offers, figuring that the noodles may be too much for his hyung's stomach right now. He's not ecstatic, but he's satisfied with the amount of liquid Seonghwa managed to take but just wants a few bites of food in him as well.

He decides on the jello, likely a result of his natural sweet tooth winning out. San spoon feeds him an astounding five bites before he purses his lips and puts a hand on his stomach. “Done.” The sick man insists. 

“Okay,” San confirms. “Take a little medicine, then you can sleep again.” 

Seonghwa nods and takes the pills San hands him. He only sips a bit more of the electrolyte drink to force the pills down. And finally, he lays back down, settling into the couch and curling himself into a small ball. “You'll stay?” He looks pitifully at San. 

“Of course, hyung. I'll stay.” He leans against the front of the couch, resting his head on his hyung's thigh. 

“Thanks, Sannie.” Seonghwa’s breathing starts to even out as sleep overtakes him, “for taking such good care of me.” 

“Sleep well, Hwa.” San also starts to drift back to sleep, the adrenaline of the past hour finally dying down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Sorry again for another long absence in sharing fics. I have a few more request fics I'm actively working on and some original ideas I want to flesh out. I know my motivations have been wavering, but I'll get through them in time. I'm finally starting to feel more like myself again, so hopefully, I'll get out of this funk soon. But I make no promises to timing. Just know that I'm still here, still writing as I'm able to. Please accept this overdue Ateez fic as a token of my gratitude.

As always, thanks for reading to the end! I really appreciate each and every one of you who make it this far! Feedback is always appreciated. And please let me know if I missed any tags or TWs. And please call me out for any errors you notice!

🧡 Aki

[anigst]

The Yuzuki Family’s Four Sons - Ep 11

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Moonbloom

Time for Nightmare to finish up some loose ends! Don't worry :3 it is a good one in my opinion <3

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

We good? Lets go! (also be ready because it is a long one.)

*------------------*

Nightmare looks around their garden but still can't spot Killer. Maybe he went to their nest? Seems weird as Nightmare thought he would be working on the grapes at the moment.

Still. Best search there. He walks back towards the house as he weaves between the grapes and vines growing. The first layer is looking amazing and beautiful!

He gets to the set of stairs and walks back into the house. Finding Killer is easy as he is laying in their nest watching something on the TV. A fan aimed at him to help keep him cool in the summer heat.

Killer blinks and grins "OUr little nightlight!" and Nightmare gets grabbed and snuggled close. Nightmare hums happily as he leans into the snuggles for a moment.

Killer grins as he lounges "Come watch westerns with me! It iwll be fun." and he grins.

Nightmare glances at the tv for a moment, it shows a cowboy on the back of a horse with the show having this yellowish colour over it. Nightmare hums "later?"

Killer grins "Sure. What do you want to do now?"

Nightmare rubs his hands before muttering "can... can you do soemthing for me?"

Killer nods "sure! what is it?"

Nightmare smiles as he leans against Killer before he asks his request. It had been on his mind for a while now and with him fixing Dani and Ellie's tree farm... He thinks this may actually work.

--------

Grillby cleans the bar and sighs. Another long night after an even longer day.

His club is profitable and it keeps others safe but he does not enjoy owning it. Grillby had always wanted to own his own business but not like this.

Sadly this is where their fate had let them.

He finishes with the bar and goes about checking the seating area and dancing area. Finding some very dubious stains. A deeper sigh but he gets to work.

He tries not to let his mind wander as he works. It is better to focus or the ever present heat that is now just a part of life.

He finally finishes up his normal round as he leaves his building. His flame flickering a bit brighter at the sight of Sans.

Sans notices him and grins "Sup Grills!"

Grillby is very lucky that even after everything and how everyone spoke about hi that Sans still speaks to him. He knows this.

They walk together as the move to waterfall. Sans takes out the umbrella and hands it to him wordlessly. Grillby takes it and the two continue walking "Thank you again for coming with me."

Sans grins at him "Hey no worries. I always love hanging out with you~" and he gives a wink and sweet smile.

It is ruined by someone whistling loudly "Hey Sans! Down to fuck later? I can show you a real boner!!" loud laughter after.

Sans just shoots them a look and glances up and down before smiling a bit sharper but still oh so sweet "Hon I don't think you have the stamina to keep it up or do anything near pleasing~ Maybe best practise a few rounds first." and the walk pass them.

No real conversation after that as the peaceful mood had been ruined.

Grillby misses Sans. Sans used to go to his club and dance there. Spend time there. It had been something Grillby honestly enjoyed. The heat that went through him felt more real when it was focused and about Sans. It had been honest as Grillby had always felt that way.

Sans had throw his whole mindset into dancing and other work at his club when the experiment failed. Sans sadly took the burn of most of that failure even if there had been more scientists at work on an artificial heat to help their reproduction.

Sadly Sans had been the best known among everyone and so ended up being the black sheep of it all.

Grillby had just been happy to have Sans near even when everything changed drastically... Eventually his inaction got to much and Sans left after one too many comments.

Girllby still misses him daily.

Maybe another reason why he had tried so hard to do right for that tiny child. A tiny skeleton looking so young. Grillby tried to not let it interfer but it had been so hard. He had just wanted to do right and something for once.

He still wonders how that tiny child is doing. He hadn't told another soul. Too afraid what some heat affected monsters would do.

"Grillby? Is something wrong?"

Grillby looks back at Sans and sees those pink eye lights watch him. Grillby always gets lost in that face and those eyes.

Grillby had come close to confessing what happened that night to Sans. So close. but he is afraid that Sans will just be disappointed in him. For not getting the child to a safe location. to hide it from him for so long. Grillby thinks this underground will actually be hell if Sans stopped talking to him.

A loud whistle and Grillby and Sans both look over annoyed. Only for Sans to freeze and Grillby can only assume it is shock. BEfore that is another skeleton. yet they are dressed strange.

Well strange for them.

They are in constant heat after all. Meaning everyone feels hot and too hot all the time. Everyone loves wearing and showing off their bodies. It is why Grillby is wearing his minimal outfit. It is why Sans is wearing the shortest shorts possible and that little top as he keeps his coat low and barely on.

This skeleton? Is wearing shorts but they cover his legs until his knees. he is wearing sneakers to finish that side up. Upwards? A black turtle neck, a sweater version at that.

Another very strange thing about them? The black tar like tears streaming down their cheeks. The completely empty sockets. and well, the out and proud soul is a very bold choice. Even for the monsters who like to attract all the attention. They are grinning widely at them.

Grillby blinks but suddenly feels Sans grab his hand and pull him back. Sans has yet to look away from the other skeleton but... but that look? That... that is fear... What? Who?

Grillby frowns "Sans?"

Sans shoots him an anxious look before glancing around at all the water. he pushes the umbrella fully in his arms "You need to go grillby." their is desperation in his voice.

Grillby does not feel the need to go. in matter of fact. if this person freaks Sans out of all mosnters? That means this person is dangerous and Grillby is not leaving his friend alone. He instead looks at the other skeleton.

Who is just... standing there? Grinning widely as they.... swing? They lean back and forth as they swing their arms slightly to keep the motion going. moving their weight from the toes of their feet to the very back. completely relaxed.

Sans glares at him and hisses "I am serious. Go."

Grillby just looks at the other and shakes his head "no."

Sans opens his mouth to speak again but the other speaks up "You two love birds done? Like. I can wait but i kinda got places to be and stuff." they grin as they lean on their fist. Almost like a thinking position but instead of the fist under the chin they lean against it with their cheek.

Sans glares "Why are you here?"

Grillby frowns at his friend "Sans who is this?"

Sans glances at him unsure before glaring back at the other.

This seems to have been a sign the other was waiting for as they just, bounce and skip over. The thrust out their hand "The name is Killer!"

Grillby stands frozen. Because he feels it. What the other sends out. This... this monster...

Grillby can't help it and sends a check.

The information just makes it worse.

This monster has a lot of LOVE.

Killer pouts "Tough crowd." he pulls his arm back and crosses his arms.

Sans glares at him and hisses "You are not allowed to be here. Leave."

Grillby has no doubt that Sans knows just how dangerous Killer is, Sans seems to actually know this guy but... but how?

Killer snorts and waves Sans off "Oh calm down I am not even causing trouble. Anyway. I kinda am here for a thing so cool your jets."

Sans just crosses his arms "I will ends a message to the Stars. I got an emergency vial and I will break it."

Killer raises a brow and smirks sharper "Then I won't be able to complete my job here Lavender..." then he leans closer "Or should I say... Ace?" and he winks "Must suck to have such conflicting needs."

Grillby doesn't think as he pulls Sans behind him. That... that is a very private secret. A soft admission that Sans once entrusted to Grillby. Why Sans hates this heat so much. How he doesn't even desire sex or want it. Yet this heat makes him need and crave it. It messes with his mind.

Grillby glares at Killer and Killer grins as he shrugs "eh. Not my fault he can't take what he dishes out." he grins wider "You know! Becuase he fucks people even when he doesn't desire people- wow!" Killer dodges the fireball Grillby shot at him.

Killer looks at where Grillby's magic attack his the ground "Man! Is it good I picked this spot to search you out! Could have been a hazard if a fire spread in an underground." he looks over "Anyway. I came with a message."

Grillby is about to say he doesn't care when Killer speaks the next sentence.

"From your little friend in the alleyway."

Grillby freezes again. Sans asks him what the other meant but Grillby can't. He can't believe it.

Killer nods with an understanding look "Ah yes. What do you mean? How could that be? In that case. Just so you know. While he liked the pulled beef a lot his favourite of the selection was the pork." and he grins.

The food. He had given the other food. And aparently the little one actually ate it all. his arm slowly falls to his side.

Killer grins and nods "I know right? anyway. I am here because of that." and he shrugs.

Sans frowns "What have you guys been doing here?!"

Killer sighs "calm down lavender. This doesn't actually concern you you know? You are just part of this conversation because you were near him at the time." and he shrugs.

Sans frowns and looks to the side for a moment "I... heard some stuff... from Dream-"

Killer pulls out a knife and aims it at Sans. Sans freezes and Killer grins. Girllby frowns but then sees the drop of blood on the knife edge and the very small cut on Sans's cheek.

Killer grins sharply "None of that now Lavender. I am here with a small mission. No need to include either the gang or the stars. This is a matter of repaying something owned. Calm now? Eithr you stay quiet or... well." he grins sharper "You want to test out how quickly a reset happens to fix a... missing link?"

Sans freezes as he shoots Grillby a nervous glance. Grillby is just very confused. what are these two talking about "Sans?" or Lavender? Why does Killer keep calling Sans that?

Killer stares for a while longer and Sans evneutally sighs and nods. Going silent but not leaving his side.

Killer hums and smiles brightly again. the threatening and freezing air around them disappears "That is what i thought!" is this what LOVE does to a monster? Grillby knew it was dangerous but this is on another level.

Killer sighs "Anyway. your alleyway friend wanted to thank you for your assistance. Which is why I am here. To repay that favour."

Grillby can't keep it in anymore "is he safe? Is he with his family again?" he remembers the poor child saying his mother was gone "With his dad? other parent?"

This is when Sans stares at him in shock and mutters a "what?"

Grillby looks anxiously at Killer but Killer just raises s brow and makes the 'go ahead' motion.

Grillby thinks it over before finally saying it "A long while ago. More than a year..." almost a year and a half honestly "I... i had a very curious visitor. a tiny monster dressed in a large hoody. but... it turned out to be a child... a skeleton one."

Sans gasps and thinks for a moment before shooting Killer a look of disbelieve.

Killer just grins and makes the 'zip it' motion.

Sans shallows "you mean those rumours..."

Killer glares as he crosses his arms "people need to learn to keep their large mouths shut." he turns back to Grillby himself "As to answer your question. he is fine. he is back at home with his parents. perfectly safe and healthy."

Grillby feels a deep relieve and lets out a sigh "Thank you... I ahd been worried... I assume you... you got him home?"

Killer blinks at him before shrugging as he stuffs his hands into his pockets "euh. pretty much."

Grillby can't help but smile. Maybe... maybe this monster isn't that bad? he cared enough to bring a child home to his family. he cared enough to help get the child a message back to Grillby. That must mean something. Sans must have made the same conclusion as he grins and crosses his arms. "Didn't realise that you guys now did babysitting."

Killer shoots him a glare "Don't test your luck Lavender." he sighs louder "anyway! Can we now finally get to the point i have been trying to get to?! The present?" and he waits.

Grillby and Sans share a look and both nod.

Killer huffs "finally! Anyway!" he messes with his pocked and out comes a full flower. it is a very pale purple with four petals. the petals are kinda cresent shaped and point upwards. It is small but nice enough.

Killer nods and marches over "Okay. here you go. Yes you can safely touch it as long as you don't want to burn it." Girllby carefully takes the flower over. That is when it hits him. the flower is the same colour as the small child's eyes had been.

Sans looks at it curiously and tilts his skull "that is... new?"

Killer waves it off "Yeah he is sitll workshopping the name. anyway. hold i got a list for this shit." he makes a victorious noise as he pulls out a piece of paper and reads "okay. okay... lets see. growing and spreading. As long as there is room and the flower is unbothered it will grow copies of itself. so it doens't need water."

Killer snorts as he looks up "Goot news you don't need to handle water for this flower. but yeah just kinda. I dunno. find a spot no one visits and plant sit if you want a shit load of them.but if you don't care about spreading it a lot lot you can just kinda put it in a pot or something."

Grillby looks down at the small flower and smiles. He is so thankful for this wonderful gift. a reminder that he at least managed to help one person.

Killer keeps looking at his little list "okay! So. One petal a person is enough but takes a few days to take effect. For instant but temporary effects just make tea."

Sans blinks "what is the effect?"

Killer opens his mouth. frowns and closes it. looks abck at his list. then shrugs at them "I was not told. I knew we were forgetting something. but. euh." he shrugs again "can you blame him? He is six."

Sans makes a small noice as he looks excited as he glances at Grillby "You saw a six year old babybones?"

Grillby nods and Sans sighs wishfully "I am so jealous. so so jealous."

Killer grins and shrugs "bet. anyway. lets see. oh the last point. The flowers will regrow the petals but can't grow more flowers if they are healing. so if you want a lot of petals you will need to grow flowers first." he grins at them "and that is it. with that done. bye!" he waves nad turns around. He walks back into the shadows and Girllby is left with a small flower in his hands. so fragile and small but beautiful.

Sans looks at him curiously "Want to get a nice large pot and plant the little plant? get more started?"

Grillby nods and they go in a slightly different direction. They get the right supplies and quickly go back to Grillby's house.

Grillby watches as Sans plants the flower for him. Grillby still worried his flames may harm to tiny plant. He just didn't wish to risk it. it takes very little time and they sit on the couch together for a moment.

Grillby can't sotp it anymore "Who even was that?"

Sans frowns as he srhugs "jsut... someone i know...."

Grillby frowns more as he feels that Sans isn't telling him what is wrong "Why did he keep calling you Lavender?" that is a new name. Sans has been called lust by others before, partly as insult because snas play in making the ever present heat. but also as comment on his looks and how desired he was.

Sans shrugs and mutters "I dunno... prefered that over the alternative..."

Grillby frowns "Sans... what..." he deosn't even know what he wants to ask.

Sans just shakes his skull "it... it doesnt matter at the moment... I am sorry you got so close to being hurt..." he rubs his arm and looks away with guilt.

Grillby hums "not your fault." and lets it go for now. his sight finds the flower. curiousity gets the best of him "Want to test those petals with me?"

Sans laughs before glancing at the flower "sure... petal or tea?"

Grillby hums and stares at the flower. feeling a bit reckless "lets just do a whole petal. That way it is done and no need to question it anymore."

Sans looks thoughtful before nodding. Sans pulls off two petals with care before handing one of grillby.

Grillby feels the petal. it is soft and seems fragile but it doesn't even seem to notice his flames. Sans grins and winks at him before both of them just eat the petal.

It tastes strange... slightly of grapes of all flavours. Grillby doesn't taste any of the drugs he is familiar with and he made sure to test those when he was safe. Just to make srue which flavours to not include in food and drinks. make sure nothing can get masked by his things.

They sit together but nothing happens.

Sans hums "the note of the kid did mention that it would take a while. Talking about that." he turns to him adn smiles "kid?"

Grillby chuckles but happily, and finally, shares the story of that day. How sweet the young child had looked but how afraid he had been.

It is nice.

-------

Grillby wakes up the same as always. he makes breakfast as he always does. But then he realises it. what he feels.

or better said. what he doesn't feel.

Grillby is in such shock that he actually drops the plate he had been holding.

It is gone.

the heat within his soul.

It is gone.

He doesn't think as he rushes out of his house. He throws open the door and gets hit by the cold of the air.

It is cold!

Also it is VERY cold!

He grabs his jacket before rushing to Sans's house. He gets there and knocks on the door. loudly.

a grumble and a disgruntled Papyrus opens the door. Papyrus shoots him a look. tired and slightly knowing "Sans is asleep after working last night." he gives him a pointed look.

Grillby still isn't sure how Papyrus figured out about Grillby's interest, but it may have to do something with Grillby always giving Sans the center stage and best hours and let sans keep most of the tips he earned. Now that Grillby thinks about it he was rather obvious.

Grillby shakes his head "It is nothing like that. I need to talk to him. I know it is very early and i apologise."

Papyrus looks annoyed but lets him in wiht a loud sigh. Papyrus orders him to wait there for a moment before moving upstairs to Sans's room.

Grillby waits as he tries to ignore the very pointed decoration. his soul still blissfully cool towards it all. even if he can smell the familiar scent of Sans's perfume.

It doens't take long for Papyrus and Sans to walk downstairs. Sans looks adorable disheveled as he joins him on the couch. Sans is still so pretty even without all the make up and short cut clothes.

Ppayrus sends Grillby another look before loudly proclaiming that he will be making breakfast.

Sans shoots him a tired look "Not that i don't enjoy visits... but we don't really have the same working hours anymore Grills."

Grillby shakes his head and tries to focus on the now "Sans. please. focus and tlel me I am not the only one here."

Sans frowns at him as he tilts his skull.

Grillby keeps staring at him "Notice anything gone? something... burning that is no longer burning?"

Sans stares at him before snorting "Is this the set up for a pun? I mean i love a good pun but you didn't need to wake me up-" he stops mid sentence. sockets wide as one hand slowly raises up to touch his sternum "it is gone."

They share a look and Sans rushes to his room "Give me a moment to get dressed!"

Grillby nods before quickly shouting after him "Make sure to grab a jacket!"

Papyrus shoots them a weird look from his kitchen and Grillby has no way to explain it just quite yet.

Sans rushes back downstairs, with a jacket on thank everything. They quickly say goodbye to Papyrus and rush out together. They run back to Grillby's house as Sans speaks "The flower?"

Grillby answers immediantly "I think it had to be! That is the only thing different about us compared to everyone."

They get back and find the garden pot they had planted the flower in four days ago. It took almost two days for the flower to recover fully from the picked petals but over the next two days the one flower had grown into four.

Sans stares at him in shcok "this... this can fix everything..."

Grillby nods before frowning at his tiny pot "We can maybe plant three of these four somewhere else. with more room to really let them spread. I can keep the last one safe just in case."

Sans nods as he takes out the garden tools he had left here last time and gets to work "great idea. I remember a cavern in the forest which no one really visits. we can plant them there and let them spread in peace."

Grillby nods as he watches Sans work. this could fix everything.

----

Killer strokes the small skull leaning against his sternum as he watches tv. the western is nearing its conclusion as the hero talks about needing to go as the open fields call to him. the main lady is heartbroken and begs him to stay. usual stuff.

Killer looks at Nightmare "What was the flower anyway?"

Nightmare yawns and shoots him a look "should fix the issue there." and he snuggles close.

Killer grins and holds the baby close. euh. whatever. Not his problem. his problem is just making sure the baby is happy and content.

*-----------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Remember how Nightmare is now the god of restoration? You can push that concept VERY far :3

If Fate finds out Nightmare is messing with universes and stuff like this she/he/they will be pissed.

Anyway!!

Baby repayed his debt!

[acnologiaheart]

Greetings! 🖖 uh, may i humbly ask for a caretaker! chara and sans au? 👉👈💦

— sincerely, miss-chans ❤️💙

"For Asgore sake, I think I’m too old for this... What a shame. I totally forgot how strong humans can be—guess it’s been such a long time... At least they’re not going to pass by." "Chara! Open the door, Chara! Please!"

Two years later, but here it is!

Honestly, I don't know much about the Caretaker Chara AU, and it reminds me of that time when Soriel was super popular (I didn't really follow it, but it felt like it was everywhere). So, it was a bit tricky for me to draw it.

(Also, I remember thinking about your comment for Chansweek last year, but I wasn’t too confident with handling comments yet, so it just stayed in the mailbox :p)

Thanks so much for asking! And I'm really sorry for the delay!

[darl-ingfics]

I absolutely love all your fics, especially your Sicktember series!!! 💖💖💖 You write everything so well, especially the fluff. I was wondering if you’d be able to write a miserable San with what he thinks is a head/chest cold that actually turns out to be the flu with ot8 caretakers? I understand that you’re still figuring San out though, so if you’re not comfortable writing for him yet I’m happy with the sickie being Seokmin instead with ot13 caretakers. Only write this if you want to! I love all your writing, so whatever you write I’ll enjoy 😊

First of all, thank you for being SO kind and SO patient! I received your second message today, and that really inspired me to push through and get this done. And I'm so happy I did, cause writing again has felt really stress-relieving, so thank you! I tried my best to do San justice, and honestly, still don't think I've fully got it, but that hardly matters when you make the character so delirious they're really just along for the ride 😅 Hope you enjoy!!!

Friends Like These

Fandom: ATEEZ

Sickie: San (flu)

Caregiver(s): OT8

Word Count: 1,440

Yeosang had been, admittedly, spacing out when San’s head collapsed against his shoulder on the car ride home. Despite jumping slightly at the sudden weight against him, Yeosang relaxed instantly, arm wrapping instinctively around San’s shoulders.

“What’s up, Sannie?” Yeosang whispered, fingers curling absent mindedly in the hair at the nape of San’s neck. 

“Don’ feel gooood,” San whined, sniffling rather pathetically as his body shifted to try to someone get closer to Yeosang despite the constraints of the car. Yeosang frowned sympathetically, even though San couldn’t see. San had been fighting a cold for the past three days, and had rather blatantly lost that battle during practice that day, taking a very clear turn for the worse after lunch. No one was sure how it had happened; San had diligently been taking extra vitamins, drinking ridiculous amounts of water, sleeping as much as possible, trying any and every health hack TikTok supplied… But his efforts had been fruitless, leaving them with a sad, shivery, sniffly San. Which was more than enough to break even the stoniest of hearts. 

“I’m sorry, love,” Yeosang said gently. “We’re almost home, yeah? Then you can take a nice hot shower, and Wooyoung will make you dinner, and then you can sleep. Maybe Yunho or Mingi will even cuddle with you.”

San’s neck twisted so their eyes could meet. The look on his face, the pout and puppy dog eyes, almost made Yeosang laugh out loud from the pathetic-ness of it. “Why won’t you cuddle with me?”

Yeosang shrugged. “I thought you said Yunho was the best cuddler…”

“It’s because he’s tall,” Wooyoung interjected, leaning over from Yeosang’s other side. “That makes him best by default.”

“What rumors are you spreading about me?” Yunho’s head appeared between the headrests from the backseat. 

“All good things,” Wooyoung defended. 

Yunho pointed a warning finger at him. “It better be.” 

Yeosang chuckled softly at his members’ antics, noting how San did not react at all. That was troubling. Yeosang continued playing with his hair, trying to ignore the heat emanating from his friend’s neck until they got home and could do something about it. No need to worry anyone now…

*

Later that evening, on his way up for a shower, Mingi rounded the steps and nearly had a heart attack, not expecting someone to be sitting in the middle of the stairs. Hand clutched to his chest, Mingi turned back to said person: San, sat on the middle step, leaning heavily against the wall, eyes closed and breathing hard. San had been given the privilege of first shower, usually reserved for any member under the weather, and was currently sporting slightly damp hair and pajamas plus a hoodie; but was still obviously shivering. Mingi instantly scrambled up the steps towards him. “Sannie? What’s wrong?”

“I was…” He swallowed hard, wincing in pain. “Comin’ for dinner but… so far…” He coughed roughly, collapsing in on himself. Mingi’s brow knit in worry; San hadn’t sounded like that earlier. “Couldn’t breathe…”

“Sannie, I don’t think this is just a cold.” Mingi frowned, hand to San’s forehead. “You’re really warm. And you shouldn’t be too tired to make it down the steps.” San simply fell forward, collapsing against Mingi’s chest. The taller man wrapped his arms protectively around his friend, worry exploding in his brain. 

“Help?!” Mingi exclaimed, praying someone could hear him. 

Jongho appeared at the top of the stairs, towel around his neck. “What’s wrong?” His eyes widened when he saw what was happening. 

“Perfect,” Mingi sighed to himself. “Sannie’s really not feeling well. Can you help me move him?”

Jongho nodded, instantly attentive. “Back to bed?” San whined at the suggestion, squirming against Mingi’s chest. “What about the couch, hyung?” San nodded. Mingi pouted his lips at Jongho, heart breaking for their friend. 

San did not remember Mingi and Jongho maneuvering him from the steps to the couch. Did not remember having to stop at the bottom of the stairs from lack of energy, coughing again, nearly gagging from the mucus gathering in his throat. Did not remember his members gathering in the doorway, responding to Mingi’s earlier call for help and his hacking. Did not remember Seonghwa holding a paper towel to his mouth, forcing him to cough out a disgusting clump of yellow phlegm that would’ve have embarrassed him into the next century. Did not remember Mingi and Jongho practically dragging him to the couch, his body crumpling like a sack of potatoes and curling in on itself like a shriveled leaf. 

No, the next thing San remembered was…

“Sannie~”

He peeled his eyes open at Wooyoung’s sweet voice. Wooyoung was kneeling next to the couch, smiling softly. “I made you soup.” He gestured to a bowl on the coffee table behind him. San just blinked at him. “Think you can eat for me? If not, we can just put the soup in the fridge. I made enough so you could get a few meals out of it anyway.” 

“But he does need to get some of it to take his medicine.” Seonghwa appeared behind Wooyoung. His arms were crossed over his chest, his lips drawn into a tight line, but, even in his delirious state, San recognized his posture as worry rather than annoyance or anger. 

Wooyoung nodded. “Right. You still need to eat enough for medicine.” San blinked again, then sighed. Even that slight shift of air irritated his throat, made him cough. He felt hands rubbing his back, hoisting him up, supporting him. As soon as his breath returned, he felt a glass (cool, not cold) thrust against his lips, and let whoever it was pour the lukewarm water down his throat, not trusting his own hands to hold the glass. 

“Look, you’re already sitting up,” Wooyoung chirped. San opened his eyes (when had he closed them?). Seonghwa was taking the glass back to the kitchen, and Wooyoung was now holding the bowl of soup. “Let me give you a few bites, yeah?” San nodded, complied. When his body began to sag backwards, craving sleep, Yunho slipped in behind him, holding him up until Wooyoung could feed him enough for Seonhwa and Hongjoong’s approval. San was peripherally aware that all of his members were hovering close by (except for Mingi, who had run to shower as quickly as possible). Hongjoong kept checking his phone, murmuring to Seonghwa, who would murmur back. San didn’t appreciate them murmuring about him, but was in no position to comment on it. 

Once the captain had given the ‘okay, that should be enough’ cue, Wooyoung disappeared with the soup bowl and Hongjoong knelt on the floor in front of the couch, measuring out a dose of medicine. San was glad they were giving him liquid instead of pills.

“Yeah, we knew you couldn’t handle pills right now, buddy,” Yunho said, giving San a gentle squeeze. San blinked. He hadn’t realized he’d said that out loud. 

“You’ve been giving a running commentary for quite a while,” Hongjoong replied to that, offering San the medicine cup. “For the record, Seonghwa and I murmur about all of you. It’s just your turn today.” San frowned at his members so rudely eavesdropping on his inner thoughts, but accepted the medicine cup and tipped it back slowly. He choked a bit at the bitter flavor, and thankfully Yunho thrust a water bottle in his hands before he could start coughing again. After finishing half of the water, he gave the bottle back and instantly closed his eyes, leaning back in Yunho’s embrace. 

“See? I told you he was the best cuddler,” Yeosang insisted from somewhere. The rest of the members responded to him, but San’s brain was already shuttling him back to sleep to the comforting lull of their voices.

And even though he was also technically asleep at the time, San had an unconscious memory of Yunho petting his hair and kissing his forehead before slipping out from underneath him. Of Yeosang curling up on the other side of the couch, San’s legs resting in his lap. Of Mingi covering him with their coziest blanket. Of Wooyoung setting extra water and tissues on the table for him. Of Jongho singing softly close by, protecting him from bad dreams. Of Hongjoong kneeling next to him with their thermometer gun, taking his temperature. Of Seonghwa sitting in the armchair across from the couch, watching over him under the guise of reading a book.

Even asleep, San could feel his members’ love. And not even the following day’s flu diagnosis could make him feel all that bad with friends like these in his corner. 

Final Note: Again, I cannot reiterate how THANKFUL I am for your kindness, Anon. Your messages we so incredibly sweet, and even your question of when to expect the fic was so respectful and I am so lucky to have a community that supports and encourages this type of creative production in a way that acknowledges and supports the natural ups and downs of life. Thank you again for inspiring me to finish this without pushing; it's people like you who make this enjoyable.

Final Note: Again, I cannot reiterate how THANKFUL I am for your kindness, Anon. Your messages were so incredibly sweet, and even your question of when to expect the fic was so respectful and I am so lucky to have a community that supports and encourages this type of creative production in a way that acknowledges and supports the natural ups and downs of life. Thank you again for inspiring me to finish this without pushing; it's people like you who make this enjoyable. 😘

[eyezofstatic]

doodle memes and other stuff (srry ive been inactive for a while)

[zhoudadudugongjin]

Lü Ziming, Vice Commander of my HEART

[abhainnwhump]

I'm not comfortable writing the first part, but I will write Nightmare getting the crap beaten out of him.

Masterlist || Chapter Context

(Content warnings: Eye gore, torture, broken bones, mentions of major character death)

Before Nightmare could stab Dream through the chest and steal his soul, Dream caught his tendril. The shock caused Nightmare to shift back into his regular, demonic form. Dream's soul burned with anger. It both strengthened and weakened him.

"Really? Really? Did you believe that would work? I know the Nightmare I grew up with died centuries ago. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me!" Dream's gold eye lights blazed. They had enough of Nightmare's mind games. He picked his two swords back up and stepped on Nightmare's chest. One of his tendrils wrapped around his wrist, but he chopped it off.

Nightmare glared at him, though he also managed a chuckle. "Fine. Perhaps you've finally grown up and learned to be less of a pathetic, emotional excuse for a guardian. I still won."

"No . . . I WON'T LET YOU!" Without thinking it through, Dream stabbed Nightmare in the eye. The guardian screamed and malice covered his eye as he was rendered blind. Dream stabbed him over and over in a blind rage. Nightmare thrashed under him. Golden magic swirled around his body, consuming his eye sockets until they looked like they were filled with glistening honey.

From the other side of the room, Horror, Dust, and Blue stopped fighting. Dust teleported over to Nightmare and loaded his gun. "Boss! What the fuck, Dream?"

Dream's skull shot up and he bared his teeth. "And you, you're no better. You helped out with all of this. In what ways, I don't know, but I will find out, you impertinent jerk!" Dream harnessed his energy into a ball of light, dodging Dust's bullets as he shot him. He kicked Nightmare in the face to keep him down as he fired the ball of energy at Dust. Dust flew across the room and his skull his the the wall. His chest and jacket were burned from the magic.

Horror threw Blue against the ground as he ran to Dust's dazed form. The knight harnessed his new glitch and teleported in front of him, he bashed Horror in the head for the second time that night. He took the few seconds to look at Dream. "Dream? Did you just-"

"I'M NOT DONE." Dream raised his foot and stomped on Nightmare's ribcage, shattering them. The images of the fallen Birdtale, the Code Purples, Fresh's death, everything with Ink . . . they fueled the fire inside him. He lost too many people because of this- this demon.

Nightmare's breathing shook. Black and teal ooze spread around him like blood. Dream kicked Nightmare in the head and panted, knocking him out. Dream wasn't sure what to do with his body. As much as he wanted to kill him, he couldn't throw off the balance. Core Frisk had Anti-Magic cuffs they could use. Blue's mouth hung open. He spent the time keeping Horror down as he now used blue glitching magic to keep him in place. Dream narrowed their pure gold eye sockets at Horror as they walked over. Blue watched him with a mix of admiration and fear. "That was amazing, but are you okay?"

"Silence." Dream grabbed Horror by his turtleneck and pulled him close, gritting his teeth. They dug their nails deep into the fabric. "Give me the coordinates to Nightmare's castle. Ink is coming home tonight."

[xeiinsuuferst]

OH MY GOD?? 5 reblogs and **9** NOTES!? I know it’s not much but to me it means a LOT!! tysm guys ^^ before I try making a comic.. I wanna start off small ( mostly because I don’t know how to make one lol… )

Goth belongs to Nekophy

Crescent belongs to Lunnar-chan

Anatomy is a pain in my ass.. I promise I’m trying :’)

[shrikeseams]

I would very much like to know why you think Finwe is a shitty husband.

Pretty sure I have exhausted this topic elsewhere on this blog, so in essence (and with the understanding that there are other interpretations etc etc):

Finwe asked his first wife (who was functionally elf!suicidal) to permanently forfeit her fundamental right to life for his convenience. Explicitly because he had found a replacement for her.

Then he also abandons his second wife because he was angry at the valar for usurping his political prerogatives and she was no longer convenient/his favoritest son didn't like her.

I know there are other opinions and interpretations on both of these events, but on numbers alone Finwe has outstripped every other shitty elf husband. After all, Eol was only complicit in the death of one spouse, and he wasn't even aiming at her! Eol never tried to ditch Aredhel for a hot new thing!

(There is an argument that Finwe did, ultimately, let Miriel go free. But my stance on that is that it was fait accompli, and I see no reason to think it would have occurred to him if he hadn't already died. It's not like he was offering to die on weekends so Miriel could meet her grandchildren or anything. [Tbh my counter-canon take on it is that Namo was fibbing, and the valar had decided that finwe was too politically inconvenientfor reimbodiment, so they pressured Miriel to reimbody first. Thus why she technically only hangs out with Vaire.] )

[whats-k-popping]

Summary: When he opens their bedroom door, he's hit by a pungent rotten acidic smell. It flips his own stomach and makes him put his knuckles over his lips. The smell is reminiscent of vomit, and his stomach instantly desires similar release. His disdain for his boyfriend vanishes immediately. He buries his own ill misery, replacing it with worry for his younger partner.

Pairing: Woosan (NonIdol AU) - established relationship

Words: 3511

Warnings: Emeto || Graphic Descriptions of Vom!ting || Fever || Fake Illness

Wooyoung has been planning this for weeks. A lot of time and research and actual money has gone into pulling off probably the greatest prank of their couples vlogging career. This specific prank seems to be trending right now, as he's seeing all the other couples they follow posting similar videos- "pranking my boyfriend by pretending to sick" and "will my boyfriend take care of me when I'm sick?" He binge watched all of them and found the content to be very cute. Even the gentle scoldings after the prank is revealed. 

And in typical Wooyoung fashion, he wants to show off how abundantly caring his boyfriend is to the whole world. Or to their 307k subscribers anyway. After all, it was his idea to start the channel. And he puts the most effort into making the videos, editing the footage and adding effects. So with San away on a business trip, he sets the plan into motion. 

He researches the best way to fake symptoms, leading him to the purchase of a thermometer that always reads a fever and a grotesque recipe for fake vomit. He hoards dryer lint, knowing it makes him sniffly and sings loudly in their empty apartment, intending to make his voice hoarse. 

San hasn't told him what time his flight leaves, only that he'll "be back Friday morning." Wooyoung pouted and complained at that answer, but San stood his ground. He probably wants it to be a surprise. Well, two can play at that game. He sets everything up the night before San's anticipated return. He doesn't want to risk anything spoiling his prank. Pranking is his speciality. 

He's got a box of tissues, medicine packets, bottled water, and the prank thermometer sitting on his bedside table. Hiding under the bed are a mist bottle of warm water and the jar of fake vomit. He's even set a bucket next to the bed and poured some of the fake vomit into it to really sell that he's been sick for a while. It smells terrible. It's perfect.

And of course, he camouflages the camera in the far corner of their room, angling the lense toward their shared bed to capture the exact moment San walks in and finds him ill. 

He's already filmed his whole preparation process, ensuring to keep his viewers in on the prank. He's even started editing that footage already. All that's left is to really play the part. He puts on his fluffiest pajamas (keeping his baggie of dryer lint in the chest pocket for easy access) and settles into bed, ready for his plan to unfold. 

He sleeps peacefully through the night, but startles awake at the sound of San's obnoxiously loud keychain jostling on his hip. Usually, he hates the thing. But for today's purposes, he's thankful that San chooses to sound like a human tambourine everywhere he goes. When he hears the door to their apartment unlatch, he quickly pulls the mist bottle out from under the bed. He sprays some around his sheets and some on his face before throwing it back under the bed. He starts rolling the camera, then quickly lays back down, ready for San to find him. 

San sighs heavily as he lets himself into the apartment. He rips off his coat, feeling uncomfortably warm in his only layer aside from a loose-fitting t-shirt. He kicks off his shoes and abandons his luggage by the door, not even caring to unpack. He just wants to crawl into bed, ideally snuggled up beside his boyfriend. 

He'd started feeling unwell the second day of the trip. He originally blamed it on the foreign food, but the more his symptoms progress, he thinks that maybe his seatmate on his departure flight wasn't just pale due to air sickness like he'd originally assumed. 

It was a hellish trip, but he was able to maintain productivity in order to return Friday, like he had promised. And was rewarded with a few days off. He'd originally planned to spend those days spoiling Wooyoung. Now he thinks he'll use them to recover from whatever illness his immune system failed to prevent. 

But no use dwelling on it further. He's finally home. Instead he shuffles his way to the bedroom, barely having the energy to lift his feet. He notices that the apartment is mostly unkempt. Dishes unwashed, belongings out of place, trash peeking out over the rim of the receptacle. He scoffs at the sight, mentally cursing the man he calls his boyfriend. He knows the younger isn't much for housework, but he wonders what's been keeping him so busy he couldn't load the dishwasher. Hopefully, once Wooyoung sees how sick he is, he'll clean it up. Otherwise, it will be left in disarray until he feels better.

When he opens their bedroom door, he's hit by a pungent rotten acidic smell. It flips his own stomach and makes him put his knuckles over his lips. The smell is reminiscent of vomit, and his stomach instantly desires similar release. His disdain for his boyfriend vanishes immediately. He buries his own ill misery, replacing it with worry for his younger partner. 

San swallows thickly, taking large strides to Wooyoung curled up so small under the covers. He takes in the scene of obvious illness that's settled around the room, side-eying the sick bucket on the floor as the source of the unpleasant smell. 

He gently brushes Wooyoung's bangs away to feel his forehead. He's not noticeably warm, but sweat coats his face and their bedsheets. Relief washes over him, thinking he must have already sweat the fever out. 

Despite San's touch being feather-light, Wooyoung starts to stir and open his eyes, slowly of course to remain in-character. "Baby, you're home." Wooyoung's voice is perfectly hoarse, all according to plan. Still, he tacks on a chesty cough for effect. 

"I just got back," San strokes along the younger's hairline. "Is my Wooyoungie not feeling very well?" 

Wooyoung just shakes his head with a pout, adding a few shivers. San responds by pulling the blanket up to his chin. "How was your trip?" The younger asks. 

San smiles at his sick dongsaeng, ruffling his hair. "Business as usual" is his simple reply. Leaving out all the bits of his own experiences with illness. "I'll tell you all about it when you're feeling better." 

"Kay," Wooyoung yawns, nuzzling himself closer to San. 

The smell of the bucket beside the bed demands his attention. The effect the putrid odor has on him is becoming too hard to ignore. His stomach gurgles and bubbles in anger the longer he's crouched beside it. "Baby, I'm going to wash this out okay? Do you think you'll need it anytime soon?" When Wooyoung shakes his head, San grabs the bucket holding it far away from his face and rushes to the bathroom. 

He pours the contents into the toilet bowl and flushes all in one quick motion. While he's filling the bucket with water, he uses the sound of the running tap to mask his own gagging. He spits up a mouthful of sick he easily recognizes as the in-flight meal he begrudgingly stomached a few hours ago into the toilet and grimaces. Airline food hardly looks good the first time, but the second time is menacing.

But he doesn't have time to wallow in his own disgust. Not when Wooyoung needs him. He takes a few deep breaths and shakes out the fog from his head. Taking a long look in the mirror, he tries to convince himself it's jetlag. He hopes he could convince Wooyoung, too, should the younger notice his pallor. He flushes his own sick and brings the rinsed bucket back to the bedroom. 

Meanwhile, Wooyoung is exacerbating his own symptoms with a smug smile of success. In San's absence, he not only refreshes the misting he'd applied earlier, but also takes a long whiff of the dryer lint in his pocket. The reaction was almost immediate. He's a watery-eyed, sniffling mess when San returns with the bucket. 

San sets the bucket aside and sits on the edge of the bed. He plucks a tissue from the conveniently placed box and starts dabbing the younger's waterline. "What hurts, jagiya?" 

"Everything," Wooyoung whimpers in such a pitiful way, he thinks he deserves an Oscar for his performance. 

"I'm sorry you weren't feeling well and I wasn't here," he wants to lean over and comfort Wooyoung with a soft kiss, but he doesn't want to further compromise the younger's immune system by introducing new germs. Or vice versa. He settles for scalp scratches, which Wooyoung leans into. "You just rest, hyung will take good care of you now." 

"Thank you, Sannie." Wooyoung coos as he starts to drift off. 

San eyes the thermometer on the side table and it seemingly reminds him. "Don't fall asleep just yet, let me take your temperature first." He pleads, and Wooyoung opens his mouth obediently. 

When the thermometer reads 39.2 degrees, San's eyes widen like saucers. Wooyoung hadn't felt that warm. But he resolves that maybe he's sporting a fever and it's making Wooyoung feel cooler to touch. "You’re burning. I'm going to get you a cool cloth," he rushes off with the thermometer in hand. 

In the bathroom again he rinses the thermometer and sticks it under his own tongue. When it beeps, he reads 39.0 degrees. Wooyoung still has a higher fever. So he needs more attention. He returns with a bowl of ice water and a washcloth. He takes good care to ring it out and places it carefully on Wooyoung's head. 

"Rest up, now. I'll fix you something to eat, then you can take medicine and have a shower. The bedsheets need to be changed anyway." San dictates a pretty organized plan, though he has low hopes of the success rate. 

"Choi San, my guardian angel," Wooyoung slurs with a thick sniffle. "I love you," he puckers his lips expectantly. 

"I love you too." San resists the urge again to kiss his sickly boyfriend. Instead he pats Wooyoung's thigh and exits the bedroom. Their living room futon has never looked more inviting. He throws himself onto it, completely spent. 

He wants to be the doting boyfriend Wooyoung deserves him to be. But his own illness is catching up to him disapointingly quickly. With Wooyoung napping, he's bought himself time to rest. He thinks about cooking something, but the thought of being around food enrages his stomach. And his head feels trapped in a thick fog. He can't guarantee his own safety in the kitchen.

So he opens the delivery app on his phone and orders some comfort foods to be dropped off at the door. As soon as he sees the confirmation screen, his eyes slip closed entering into a restless sleep. 

Alone in the bedroom, Wooyoung is feeling a little disappointed. San is doing a great job at taking care of him. He's unknowingly showing off his gentler, domestic side to their fans. But there's been a severe lack of cuddling. San didn't even kiss him in greeting. San always kisses him after a business trip, to make up for all the missed kisses while he was away. He even rejected Wooyoung's kiss request. Physical touch is Wooyoung's primary love language. And San's not being very physical affectionate. 

In their four years together, Wooyoung has gotten sick more times than he can count. And without fail San had always cuddled with him. San never withheld kisses out of fear for his own health. San never ever left him alone to nap. The thought flickers through his mind that San is onto his trick, but he dismisses it. Impossible, he's been in-character the whole time. He just needs to up the ante for more attention. 

He uncovers the hidden jar of fake vomit, ready to draw back San's attention. He opens the lid. And after a few wet sounding coughs, he loudly pours the contents into the empty bucket. The sound echoes, and the stench of the chunky liquid is even worse after a night of fermenting. The acid smell almost makes his eyes water. But at least the next few coughs are real, gagging on the stench. It helps make the whole presentation more believable. 

San wakes to the sound of liquid hitting plastic, and jumps up when he hears Wooyoung coughing. It doesn't take long for him to piece the two together, despite his fevered haze. And he's in the bedroom before he even realizes his legs moved. He sees Wooyoung cradling the bucket in his lap, face over the rim and spitting into it. His breathing is ragged, exhausted. 

"Hyung," Wooyoung whimpers, "I threw up again. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." 

The whole experience is too much for San's senses. The smell turns his stomach, Wooyoung's high pitched voice which he usually loves rattles a new headache. He suddenly feels too hot and too cold at the same time, feels a fat bead of sweat drip toward his brow. But Wooyoung needs him. 

He takes two clumsy steps before he bends at the waist, vomiting whatever’s left in his stomach onto the foot of their bed. 

For the first time, Wooyoung breaks character. San's never been one to get sympathy sick. So Wooyoung immediately knows it’s an expression of illness. He spares a millisecond glance to the camouflaged camera before rounding the bed, grabbing San before he collapses into his own mess. 

"Wooyoung," San sputters, a line of saliva dangling from his lips. Wooyoung's arms are wrapped around his waist, the only thing keeping him upright. He tries to pull himself away, using the edge of the bed for support. "Get back in bed. I'm okay." 

"No you're not, hyung. You just threw up." Wooyoung is not the strongest, but he has no trouble escorting San to his side of the bed. He gets San to lean against the headboard, away from the vomit stain. "Will you throw up again?" Before San has a chance to answer, the younger walks over to pick up the bucket filled with his fake vomit just in case.

San lets out a belch as the smell wafts before him, but it's dry and unproductive. He shakes his head at the question, assumingly empty, and turns his nose away from the foul smelling bucket. He's convinced he'll feel better once it's gone.

Wooyoung takes the hint and sets the bucket aside to be cleaned later. He presses the back of his hand to the older's forehead. "Sannie, you're burning up!" 

"It's jetlag," he scripts despite how ridiculous it sounds. When Wooyoung doesn’t budge, he quickly changes tactics. "You're sick too. You shouldn't be worrying about me." 

There's a lump in Wooyoung's throat and a guilty look in his eye. This wasn't how he'd envisioned the content to turn out. This wasn't how he wanted to reveal the prank. He feels real nausea from the guilt, but fights it back and confronts the truth, "I'm actually not sick, Sannie." His cheeks flood red with embarrassment, "I wanted to do a prank video. For our channel." 

"But the vomit?" 

"It's just a combination of vinegar, milk, and bread." 

"I took your temperature. You were over 39 degrees." 

"The thermometer isn't accurate. I bought it for the prank." Wooyoung scurries off to the bathroom and San notices there's not a falter to his step. He comes back with their actual thermometer. He puts the tip in his ear and waits for the beep. "See, 36.9." 

San still looks unconvinced. "The sniffling," Wooyoung exposes the lint baggie. "And the sweating," Wooyoung presents the mist bottle. 

San's eyes widen, then sharpen into a glare as he scans the room for the camera. He catches a small glimpse of a reflective surface tucked into their accent plant and points at it. "How long have you been filming?" 

Wooyoung's head hangs in shame. He fidgets with his fingers in his lap, unsure of anything else to do with them. Instinct kicks in and he wants to put his hands on San, but he’s sure the older doesn’t want that right now. "Since you got home." 

San pouts. He's exhausted as his illness settles in. He craves Wooyoung's nurturing. But he's simultaneously angry at Wooyoung for needlessly worrying him. It's a war inside his head that brings a pulsing pain with each new thought.  "I'm going to take a shower." He throws his legs over the edge of the bed, squinting his eyes as dizziness sweeps over him. 

"Do you need my help?" Wooyoung offers, also noticing that San is in no condition to escort himself. Out of habit, he wraps an arm around San's shoulders to support him. But San just shrugs him off, hoisting himself off the bed and slowly making his way to their bathroom. Wooyoung takes the hint, despite how much it hurts. He gives San space.

While San's in the shower, Wooyoung tidies the bedroom. He removes the soiled bed sheets and replaces them with a fresh pair. He discards his props, and sets up San's night stand with the necessities. Amidst the chores, Wooyoung hears their doorbell and finds the food San had ordered hanging from the handle. The blonde smiles at the two containers of samgyetang. 

San emerges from the bathroom dressed in his comfy lounge wear. He doesn't smell vomit when he enters the bedroom, which is a relief. The bedding is changed, turned down on his side, and he settles right in. Wooyoung had everything set up for him. There's medicine on the nightstand. The bucket has been cleaned again and set down for emergencies. And their real thermometer is leaning against his reading lamp. The only thing missing is Wooyoung. 

Maybe Wooyoung really left him alone to take care of himself. He knows Wooyoung would never do that, but the thought still stings. He curls up under the covers and tells himself that Wooyoung didn't do anything wrong. He tells himself that Wooyoung wouldn’t have tried to prank him if he’d known. He convinces himself not to be mad at his best friend. He even blames himself for not telling Wooyoung he’d gotten sick during the trip. Thinking about it nearly pulls him to tears. 

Wooyoung enters the room slowly, carrying a lap tray. "Do you mind if I come in?" He asks cautiously from the doorway. San, nearly on the verge of sleep, perks up at the sound of Wooyoung's voice. "If you need time, I get it. I just want to make sure you eat something. You won’t feel better on an empty stomach." The small laugh that follows is the most awkward sound San has ever heard. 

"Come here," the older encourages, scooting a bit to make room for Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung tries not to feel too excited as he carries the tray inside. He's still feeling guilty about how everything turned out. He needs to make amends. He sets the tray off to the side and sits on the bed. "I'm so sorry, Sannie-hyung. I didn't mean to overwork you. What can I do to make it up to you?" 

San shuffles under covers, a mischievous look on his face. He nudges Wooyoung with his knee until he falls off the edge landing with a thud on the ground. The older chuckles a bit at the pout on Wooyoung's face. It makes him feel just a little bit better. Reminds him of why he loves the high-maintenance blonde. "You can start by taking care of me," he shivers, "I’m too tired to stay mad at you.”

Wooyoung hops off the floor and climbs beside San is the bed, cuddling him and playing with his hair. He leaves feather light kisses against his boyfriend's warm forehead. "Of course I'll take care of you, Sannie. You're in good hands." 

San hums in content, closing his eyes and nuzzling into Wooyoung's chest. "Can I keep filming? I want all of our fans to know that I can take really good care of you, too." Wooyoung asks, eyeing the discrete camera that's already captured the whole altercation.

San smirks. Wooyoung always bounces back so quickly. It's an endearing quality. "As long as you include the earlier footage of you apologizing to me for faking." 

Wooyoung is never too proud to admit his mistakes. Another endearing quality. "Guess we'll split this episode into two parts then." He looks at the camera, then at San again. The older nuzzles close to him. Wooyoung reaches for the bowl without disturbing San’s position. When Wooyoung holds out the full spoon, San just opens his mouth expectantly. 

San eats half the bowl before he can’t stomach any more. He starts to doze off, so Wooyoung quickly gets him to take a dose of medicine. San’s compliant as ever, ready to snuggle up with Wooyoung and sleep until he feels better. Wooyoung whispers, not enough for the camera to hear, "Just rest now. I'll be right here." San believes him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: A woosan fic, as promised. Though I must admit, not the one I was working on when I first said I was writing one. I found a new guilty pleasure and had to write a fic about it. I'll be the first to admit I'm not totally satisfied with it. I've been fidgeting with this fic for weeks. I feel rusty after not writing anything for so long. But hopefully getting back into it will help me regain my confidence. So let's see how this goes.

As always, thanks for reading to the end! I really appreciate each and every one of you who make it this far! Feedback is always appreciated. And please let me know if I missed any tags or TWs. Please call me out for any errors you notice!

[what-have-i-unleashed]

OMG HOW AM I SO STUPID NETVERSE HORROR SHOULD BE A PARK RANGER AAAAAAA

ok ok so it should still work. like, it's farmtale. they should have protected parks/forests near an agriculture town right? horror can be a park ranger there it would be so cool honestly. he can apply his skills in to combat poachers and trespassers. he used to live in a town near a forest, he would know some stuff for sure.

also horror's a vegetarian because i said so.

[obamerht]

wooo two new pages, I’m nearing to the end of the first chapter of HeartTale, I know this isin’t well polished and stuff, but I’m getting a proper drawing tablet and with it I’ll also get a better drawing program, so I hope the quality will soon increase:]

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Mud

Hello! I am back with the baby-AU! Lmao! @spotaus

I am excited about this one :3

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Lets just get right into it shall we? :3

*-------------------*

Nightmare should probably be paying attention.

But the truth is it has already been a long day and he just doesn't feel like it.

Instead he just keeps holding Cross's hand as he eats his chocolate bar.

Nightmare is actually standing on the ground today, which is nice for a chance. It is mostly because he just spend the last two hours or so sitting still for some doctors and healers. For his monthly check up.

Which is new to him! Since when does he have a monthly check up?!

Nightmare huffs as he keeps eating his candy bar. It is sweet and he likes that. much like the light rain that is around them. He also likes the rain.

Cross shoots him an apologetic look "I know Nightmare. We will go home soon."

Nightmare hums and leans against Cross's side. He wants to go home already. The town is nice but busy today. Something to do with it being near halloween Crop had explained.

Nightmare looks up and sees that Killer is also very done with the conversation, even if he still has a smile on his face. Cross is better with acting interested. Gerson is talking to them so Nightmare can understand why they are still humouring this whole thing.

Nightmare finishes his snack and looks aorund, searching for a garbage can. He easily spots one and goes to let go of the hand.

Cross tightens his hold and looks down at him anxious "NIghtmare? Are you okay?" he gives Gerson an apologetic smile.

Nightmare rolls his eye lights and shows the obvious wrapper "Going to throw it away." duh.

Cross looks around and spots the same garbage can "I mean... okay... fast..." he slowly lets go of the hand as Gerson pulls him back to the conversation. Social guidelines nad rules keeping him captured.

Nightmare grins and walks over to the garbage can. He is careful to not slip on the wet and muddy ground. He is getting close when he spots a large mud pool and frowns at it. Annoying as he already starts to feel his spine acting up.

Seems like being carried and letting his spine relax a bit mad ehim less used to the pain... or is it because he is small now? Nightmare really doesn't know...

Still go carefully makes his way around the mud, he is wearing his new favourite sweater, the one Dust got him when they first got here, and he doesn't want to risk it getting dirty. He is already unhappy wiht it getting wet.

He gets to the garbage can and throws away the wrapper. Mission accomplished. Now to go back to Cross and Killer.

He turns around and bums into someone. Nightmare quickly takes a few steps back and slips only slightly before regaining his balance. He looks up and sees two boys.

Nightmare mutters "sorry..." he glances around and sees that Killer is already side eyeing him and his situation and he feels a bit calmer. He is fine. Killer is here.

One of the two boys huffs "How dare you! You dirtied my shoe!"

Nightmare blinks and feels confused. What does he mean? Nightmare bummed into him yeah but he didn't hit his shoe right? He looks down and sees that the shoes are covered with mud.

Nightmare frowns and rubs his arm "Sorry?" he isn't sure but also does not want trouble "Maybe it can be washed off?" he isn't sure. Some stuff is still hard to remember.

The boy huffs "Well that doesnt make it better!"

The other boy laughs "You know what would make it better?"

Nightmare realises soemthing is wrong right away and looks for an escape but one of them grabs his arm and the next thing he knows gravity pulls him down right into the mud he had been avoiding.

It hurts so bad.

His eye sockets sting both with tears and the mud. he looks down at himself and is absolutely covered. The other two laugh but it is already becoming a background noise.

His sweater is dirty...

He had tried to be careful with it and... and...

Two arms grab him and he is suddenly held close in a hug. "nightmare?! Are you okay? Is your spine okay? Are you hurt?" Cross speaks gently as he carefully removes some of the mud from Nightmare's face.

Nightmare can't explain. it is already hard to keep in the tears and now he is also ruining Cross's clothes and his body hurts and-

He sobs. He can't keep it in. He ruined his sweater. he ruined Cross's stuff. everything hurts. it is cold. he wants to go home.

Cross just pulls him closer and rubs his shoulders gently "Oh it is okay. Don't worry okay? We will get home and get all cleaned up and we will check your injuries."

Cross's voice helps him focus. Helps him breath and get passed the sobs and tears. his face is still all wet and muddy and he is dirty and his sweater. it had been a gift! He should know better than think he is allowed to have nice things.

Someone screeches "What do you think you are doing to my dareling boys?!"

Nightmare flinches and pushes closer to Cross. he dares to glance up and sees Killer growling and glaring at the two boys. He is holding one arm of one of the boys, the one Ngihtmare run into, behind his back and Nightmare knows that angle is painful.

Killer glances at the lady before looking back at the boy near tears "Teaching your child manners about how he shouldn't bully or harm a young child." Killer's voice is compeltely calm. Giving nothing away. Nightmare knows it means he is beyond furious.

The lady glares "It are just boys! Boys will be boys!" she huffs "What did they even do?" she notices him and huffs again "It is just mud! It is harmless!"

Killer looks at her before grinning. He lets go of the child and steps back. He moves quickly and Nightmare isn't even sure how he does it but next thing there is a wave of mud which covers all three.

Killer crosses his arms and waits.

The lady screeches again "How dare you?! This is real fur!"

Killer raies a brow "What? I thought you just told me. It. Is. Just. Mud." he stares her down "All you will have to do? Clean it. Which is much easier for you. As you have one of those handie bodies to keep it out of your system. Unlike wiht us skeletons that can cause quite a bit of different injuries. All caused by dirt getting stuck in joints. You know, like mud. And between joints, that this babybones has."

The lady shakes slightly as she looks around before looking back at Killer.

Killer stares at her "I will make this clear. YOu are going to walk away with those two brats of yours. You are not going to cause us anymore issues. understood?"

The lady nods and grabs her two boys and leaves.

Killer huffs before looking back at him. cold and emotionless look gone as he looks at him "tiny boss?"

Nightmare knows he is still crying as he pulls on his sweater a tiny bit. it sticks to his body, it rubs and hurts everything... but his sweater. He looks at Killer and isnt sure how to explain "my sweater..." he knows he is still crying "Dusty got this for me...." it was so expensive and special and Nightmare tried to be careful with it but he wanted the warm hug of the sweater at his appointment because it was Dust's relax day but now it is dirty and ruined and and and.

He can't explain adn just sobs.

Cross seems to understand as he pulls him closer "oh baby it is okay. We are going home. get you all cleaned up and clean up your sweater too. You will be wearing it again before you know it!"

Nightmare just sobs again.

Cross nuzzles him gently and that makes him feel a bit better.

"Hey tiny boss! Look!"

Nightmar eblinks and looks over at Killer. Killer sees him look and he grins widely. Before kicking his own feet out from under him and faceplanting right into the mud that Nightmare fell into.

Cross gasps "Killer!"

Killer pulls his face out and grins widely. The mud and tears mix and it is messy and he is covered in mud but it falls in almost slowmotion and-

Nightmare can't stop the giggle leaving him.

Killer grins and gets up. Each step makes a weird slurp and slosh. Nightmare snorts and laughs more.

Killer gets to them and grins at him.

Cross looks amused himself "You are a mess." he still nuzzles nightmare.

Killer grins and winks at Nightmare "Just means tiny boss and I will both need a bath." He then stands straight and shows his outfit "And look! More clothes that need washing! We will just wash our stuff together!"

Nightmare giggles and nods before starting to reach for Killer. He still pulls his hand back again. It feels... needy...

Killer grins as he sloshes over and nuzzles his face all over.

Cross sighs "Killer you are getting your goop all over him."

Killer grins at Cross "It is fine crossy! When we get home it is bathtime anyway!"

Nightmare feels himself relax a bit more as Killer rubs the tears away and Nightmare leans back against Cross. They are going home and wash up together.

He really hopes the sweater will turn out to be okay but the others probably know how to wash it out carefully.

*-------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[acnologiaheart]

𝔻𝕒𝕪𝟙(ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕤𝕎𝕖𝕖𝕜𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟛) - ℂ𝕙𝕝𝕚𝕕𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕕/ℝ𝕖𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕟

(Caretaker!Chara meets UT!Sans)

@chans-week

[afterartist]

New AU?? New AU… NEW AU!!

Suffragetale is an idea I’ve had for a while, but I can’t spoilers too much

Anyway, Tiktok, the bane of my video quality, has once again seems my pixels too uncrunched, so here are the actual pics with included quality for your viewing pleasure

Here’s are the major characters from Chapter 1 of Suffragetale

Creechure design is my ✨passion✨

Also some small bonus facts for them all

HenwhahahuajwuLOOK AT SANS AND PAP- my boys-

I love them

Also height chart :D