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limitlessgojo · 3 years

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Blood Bound: Blackened Bond (Ch 14)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous SFW Chapter: Home Sweet Home

Previous Chapter NSFW!: The More You Know

Next Chapter: Shadows Fall

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, and specify if you're okay with NSFW posts or not, please mention it in the comments below ty ❤

Extra Notes: This is my favorite chapter by far in this book, I've been wanting to drop this for weeks! I hope you enjoy reading. Part 2 of the story starts from here on until the end. Feel free to scream in the comments as usual XD

Chapter 14: Big White Lies

As the days passed by, the seasons changed. You started class in Spring. Summer has long passed and it is now the beginning of Winter. Noritoshi, as usual, was really busy so you didn’t see him as often. But you let it go.

You wanted to do something nice for him, so you had the idea to surprise Noritoshi. Having some cupcakes in a small bag and a fresh cup of coffee in your other hand, you were outside his door, hiding your presence and cursed energy to mask your identity.

As you raised your hand to knock on his door, you heard a second male voice.

"I'm glad to hear that you've been getting along with your soulmate son." His father's voice was heard over a speaker. Oh he was on call with his dad!

Yikes, not the best time to interrupt. It is impolite to listen into the conversation, but you were too excited to surprise him that you decided to wait for the call to end.

"Is Y/N really deeply in love with you? Make sure to not let her go. That will surely help our clan's reputation rise above with her skills being integrated into ours. She can definitely bear strong heirs for our clan. For centuries it was the Zenins that harnessed various types of jujutsu shi with strong techniques. It's time we continuously expanded ours as well. Starting with her." The Kamo clan head sternly ordered his son.

'Huh?'

"Yes of course father. Don't worry. She has already confessed her love to me so there's nothing to worry about. I'll do my best to make this clan proud and powerful. I definitely won’t let you down." Noritoshi replied.

The smile on your face slowly faded as your face turned to stone. Ah. Was that it?

Is that what you amounted to only? A tool for their use. A stepping stone for the Kamo clan to get stronger. You started to feel nauseous. Is this the so-called secret he didn’t want to tell you about…

You stood quietly as you continued eavesdropping.

"Excellent. Heh, looks like you can actually be a womaniser if you wanted to. Women are way too easy. As I told you before, give her sweet touches, use pet names, give her lots of encouragement and make promises here and there and they'll be by your side before you know it." His father snorted.

"Yes, I've taken your advice into consideration and did as you said." Noritoshi spoke firmly. Your heart was breaking with every word spoken.

"If you don't like her or how she looks, you can have several concubines and wives anyways. Have your pick. Remember Homura chan? Now she's a stunner. Didn’t you also say you found her cute?"

‘What on earth is this? Who is Homura? Why?’ Your hands start shaking badly, pulse thundering in your ears.

You felt light headed from the brutish words the Kamo clan head was saying, and silently retreated, not wanting to hear Noritoshi's response to his father. Keeping your presence and cursed energy hidden and as minuscule as possible while you walked back to your dorm room.

Because you had left you didn't hear the remainder of the conversation.

"Father, I respect that the older clan heads had several wives and concubines. And I’ve told you time and time again that I’m not interested in Homura san. But I've decided to be loyal to my one true soulmate. I think I am falling in love with her as well, and can't bear to see her hurt. I won't be taking in any concubines." Noritoshi politely replied.

It was the first time he had spoken about his true feelings out loud and he felt vulnerable. He braced himself for any harsh words from his father but none came.

His father only raised an eyebrow. "Suit yourself. The fact is, even if she doesn't give birth to an heir with the inherited Blood Manipulation, she is more than enough of an additional asset to our clan. And it ties us together with the Abe/Tsuchimikado clan as you know."

Clan politics. Noritoshi is getting more and more sick of it every day, but he just silently nodded. As long as he has you and his mother by his side, nothing else matters. "Yes I understand father."

Noritoshi hated talking about his family with you, because of this exact reason. He didn’t want you to be disgusted by this side of their family and get pulled into their family problems. The worst thing would be for you to have a terrible first impression of the Kamo clan.

He understood that you already had a lot on your plate as your missions grew harder and harder. You were often assigned to grade 1 missions alone already. The worst case was for you to get roped into doing messy tasks to please the clan elders.

◇◇◇

You paced around your room, staring at the cupcakes and coffee on your desk. They were getting cold.

Cold. That's how you felt inside and out. You had to confront him. Or else your relationship will just drag you down. You definitely didn't want him to have any concubines. Didn’t want to have a partner who didn’t love you after all.

You were so lost in your emotions that you didn’t realize you were jumping to several conclusions on your own without considering Noritoshi's feelings for you properly.

'But it was starting to make sense' Your mind was screaming at yourself. 'He never explicitly confessed his feelings. He does indeed give me mixed signals from time to time. He shuts me out of private matters to him. He could be using me.’

The one question that was breaking you apart now is: "Was everything a lie? How much of his actions were sincere? He could lie about anything. To get power, that's something the big 3 clans are capable of doing. Satoru told me of some of the horrors already…"

The doubt and feelings of betrayal piled up, until you came to one conclusion: You’ve had enough.

◇◇◇

The next day, you suppressed all your emotions and distracted yourself. You tried your best to act normal around Noritoshi, smiling brightly at him.

It wasn't too effective. Everytime he called you his angel, instead of the delight you usually feel, you felt hurt thinking he was forcing himself to do this.

This can't go on forever. And eventually Noritoshi could start to feel the pain in your heart on his end as well. He hurried to you one afternoon after class, dragging you out to the plum tree away from the buildings.

You looked up at Noritoshi. As handsome as ever. Gentle and concerned (lies), with a strong hand reaching to cup your face (lies lies), speaking so carefully, "My angel, how are you? Why are you troubled? Have I done something to offend you?" (Lies, it was all lies).

He must be lying. Must have been since day 1. The way your brain just jumped to the most terrible scenarios in which he never liked you. There's no other reason. Your breathing quickened.

Both of you were still in the first stage of the soulmate bonding; therefore, you couldn’t share all emotions yet. Just urgent and strong random flashes of it, especially negative emotions. This is why both of you weren’t able to feel the love the other has through the bond yet.

You stopped smiling.

"I overheard your conversation with your father. I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but I had a present for you that I wanted to give you yesterday, so I waited outside your room. But that doesn't really matter anymore." You said, cooly shrugging off the hand on your face.

He stiffened, whole body tensing. 'No it was going so well with you, this can't be happening.' He thought to himself.

"Y/n I can explain-"

"Did you even feel anything for me? Besides our red string of Fate appearing?"

The marks on your wrists flowed in warning, searing hot pain flashed across both of you. But you ignored it. The devil on your shoulder pushing you to break things with him.

"Tell me the words you and your father spoke about yesterday were a lie." You begged him.

He couldn't say it was, because the conversation yesterday was only filled with truths. He was so confused, so he stayed silent.

You laughed at him without any real meaning or humor. The light had gone out of your eyes. Noritoshi felt himself shiver at the sound of it.

"So it was all true. Did you like me for me? Or because I'm your so-called soulmate whom you forced yourself to “love”- pshhh not even love, probably to tolerate, for the sake of power?"

Noritoshi’s head felt unfocused and his palms were sweating.

“I’m just a fucking game to you huh Kamo?!” You were freely crying now. He winced at the use of his family name.

Noritoshi found that he couldn’t breathe properly, much less reply to you. He had never seen you like this. What’s worse is your intense fear, sorrow, and disgust towards him was radiating so strongly through your bond.

“No you’re not.” He could hardly get the words out with how hard he’s breathing. It actually felt like the red strings were tying themselves around his neck. You scoffed at him unbelievingly.

He trembled as he lifted both hands to cup your face, but you stepped out of his reach. His hands dropped.

"You liar. I don't want this. If you just want to use me for my body, and to use me for your gain and for your family's benefit only to toss me aside for other women, then I don't want it." You spoke hoarsely. Your entire body was stiff, hands cold and voice quivering.

Your bond was hanging by a thread. The emotions of pain and betrayal bleeding over and muddling the delicate bond.

"I'm out. Go find some other bitch to breed for your sake of your precious heirs. I don't care if we are a fated pair. If you don't wanna put even an ounce of trust and honesty into our relationship then just fuck off." You turned around and walked away.

"Wait, no I-" Noritoshi gasped out as he snapped out of his shock, but you didn't turn back. You walked faster trying to ignore the voice you loved hearing so much.

Even if it hurts to break apart from him now, it is better than to have your heart broken again and again by staying with him.

"Y/n I do care about you. I do think of you everyday. You’re not a game to me. Didn't you hear what I said yesterday?" He called out desperately, stepping forward.

You ignored him, digging your nails into the palms of your hands at the pain from your soulbond falling apart. 'I won't be fooled any longer'.

Your bond was screaming at you to turn around and believe him. To believe that everything you've felt with him these past few weeks were real. That he truly loved you.

"Listen to me!" Noritoshi cried out.

You halted in your tracks. "I'm nothing to you. If you want to have other women as your concubines, go ahead. I know you can pick up as many women as you want with your standing. You clearly don’t need me. So I don't need you." Your last 4 words are a harsh slap to his face.

Snap. And your bond was left barely hanging with the smallest red thread that stubbornly refused to let go. But the damage was done. He couldn't feel your emotions anymore as his head filled with white noise.

Panic overcame Noritoshi like never before. This wasn’t like his normal self. He didn’t let himself think about anything else, but to run and pull you back in his arms.

Until he was physically stopped by an invisible barrier. Your solid air barrier that blocks all sound and forms of matter on the other side, keeping him away from you.

“No, no, no, no. Y/n Come back! I’m sorry! Speak to me!” He cried, furiously pounding at the invisible wall between the both of you. But you couldn’t hear him, much less know how he is feeling. After all, you’ve ended it with him already.

After you left, he remained rooted to his spot. His forehead leaning against the barrier, tears streaming down his face, as he stared at the place where he saw your figure disappear. It wasn't long ago that he had just fallen in love with you.

Your warmth, your laughter, the touches you give to him. Now everything felt so cold. "But I need you." He whispered out, sounding so broken.

The last few wilted leaves of the plum tree fell, leaving it bare to the cold winter. He remembered the words in the soulmate records of the Gojo Clan. “A soulbond can be rejected.”

Maybe he should have told you everything from the beginning and not hold back any secrets. He was terrified that your opinion of him would change, if you found out about his background and his mother. So he wanted to slowly ease you into the Kamo clan.

This was the worst.

As the sky grew dark, he went back into his room and for the first time, didn't bother studying. Just went straight to sleep.

What he wouldn't give to feel anything from your end. Even if it was anger or hatred, it would be better than this empty feeling.

Author's Notes: This chapter was the first chapter I've written before all others and is how Blood Bound came to be. You could say this is the core of the story, since it's the origin. Just had an angsty afternoon one day and chose violence🥰🤧

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

#kamo noritoshi #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk fanfiction #noritoshi x reader #noritoshi x o/c #noritoshi x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x o/c #jjk x you #angst #fluff #blood bound #jjk angst #blackened bond

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furikakyo · 3 years

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a return to roots | 4

pairing: kita shinsuke x f!reader

summary: y/n is a rising star in the music industry, having almost everything you could have ever hoped for as a small-town country girl. now after releasing two triple platinum albums in consecutive years, you face the dreaded artist’s burnout… in order to recover, your manager suggests, you should return to your hometown in hyōgo for a long-deserved break.

genre: socmed/smau, slice of life

warnings/tags: timeskip!, mutual pining, slow burn? more like rekindling, slight canon divergence

masterpost

If you were to be completely honest, you'd wanted to wear a dress you’d been allowed to keep after a photoshoot. However, it wasn't a good look for someone of your status to re-wear outfits, especially statement pieces. You couldn't remember who had designed it, but it had been mostly tulle and made you feel like a princess... all things that could not be used to describe what you were wearing now. For your dinner plans, you chose to wear a simple yet smart-looking bodycon dress, one that you were regretting as you stepped out of the car. You pulled at the hem from over the long coat you wore, conscious of the fact that there could potentially be paparazzi waiting to snap a photo of you from an unfortunate angle if you weren't paying close attention. Unlike American paparazzi, reporters here didn't flock at the entrances of exclusive clubs or restaurants, but it never hurt to be cautious.

"I won't need a ride home," you told Ichiro, who nodded stiffly and then shut the door of the car after you got out, “I can get a ride home."

You adjusted the sunglasses on the bridge of your nose, aware that you looked out of place in the nightlife, and then walked to the doors of the hotel. A concierge opened the door to greet you and Ichiro, who trailed behind, scanning the area. "Welcome, Miss. Your party called ahead and made us aware of the arrangements to be made. You can follow me to the elevator, where I will escort you to your destination."

"Thank you," you said coolly, then took after them. While in the elevator, the concierge spoke nervously, emphasizing how much of an honor it was for someone like you to visit their establishment. You smiled politely, silently willing the elevator to reach the right floor faster.

A restaurant specializing in molecular gastronomy, Kuroo had explained to you on the phone the night before. He'd sounded probably the most excited you'd ever heard him. You had looked it up yourself after the call had ended. It was on the 29th floor of a luxurious hotel, one that you had never been to yourself. Only eight people max were allowed to dine in, and the chef made all of the food in front of you, four courses.

You were dragged out of your thoughts when the elevator finally dinged and the concierge guided you to the glass doors of the restaurant, where Ichiro recognized the occupants and left you alone to be greeted by Kuroo, Lev, his sister Alisa, and, surprisingly, Kenma. You took off your sunglasses and slipped them into the pocket of your coat before that too was taken by a waitress, who calmly swept them away from you and into a closet, presumably.

"Hi, guys!" you gave a bright smile and then slipped into the empty seat in between Kenma and Alisa.

"We thought you might want to sit next to Alisa," Kenma explained quietly, tugging on the collar of his dress shirt.

You smiled again, settling into the chair. "Thanks," you nodded your head. "You look nice, too, Kenma! You're all dressed up!"

Kuroo leaned back to make eye contact with you, laughing. "He almost cancelled on dinner plans with us when he heard that he couldn't wear his sweatpants. He lives in sweatpants exclusively."

Kenma sighed, muttering under his breath, "Maybe I wouldn't if you didn't make a big deal about whenever I'm not." Only you heard his comment, since he was on the edge of the table, but you didn't have any time to reply because the head chef came out of the kitchen, accompanied by a couple of workers behind him, holding the ingredients.

One by one, each round of dishes came and went. Earlier, you'd been worried about wearing a bodycon dress because of the impending food baby you were sure to conceive, but with only dessert left, your stomach felt hardly filled with the sizes of the previous dishes. The process of making each one was mesmerizing to watch, and the flavor profile of each small bite was beyond anything you could have initially imagined when the plates were gently placed in front of you-

You watched the chef spoon generous amounts of black caviar onto the dish. Not dessert, you corrected yourself. Why did you assume to get a deconstructed piece of fried dough when they had called the dish "Donut"? You eyed the tweezers which carefully placed tiny, delicate flowers on top of the spread. A single waiter poured out flutes of champagne and then distributed them to you and your friends, the only noise in the room the fizzing of bubbles in your drink. In fact, the entire affair had been silent aside from the head chef, who explained each meal to your group.

Once the waiter and chef cleared the room, Lev was finally the brave soul to break the silence, who cleared his throat and then, turning to you, asked, "So Y/N, you're moving back home, huh? Is there anything to even do there?”

You knew Lev didn’t mean to say anything offensive, but it still stung a little. He was just blunt to a fault sometimes, you reminded yourself, instead giggling and sending some witty remark back at him which made everyone burst into laughter. You shivered a little, finished the last of your remaining champagne in one undignified gulp, then stared out at Tokyo's skyline, shining and glittering like stars. It was cold in the room, you decided. Ridiculously air-conditioned to the point where you would be glad when you got your coat back and could leave.

The rest of the get-together flew by, only spending a little longer in the restaurant before exiting into the lobby. Kuroo had agreed to drive you back to your apartment, since he'd taken his own car and hadn't drank a lot. Lev gave you a bear hug and told you he would miss you, and that he would try to visit if his modeling schedule worked out in favor of it, but he wasn't sure. Alisa also hugged you tightly, telling you to take care of yourself in the countryside, to which she wrinkled her nose at playfully. When it came to Kenma you refrained from a hug, knowing that he didn't like physical contact. He gave a small smile, appreciative. "I might visit sometime; we can play Animal Crossing."

Then, just like that, the three of them left, Lev and Alisa taking the same car and Kenma having a driver. Kuroo turned to you and raised an eyebrow. "Well? Ready to go?"

You nodded, following him to the front where a valet had already pulled Kuroo's car to the curb, waiting for the two of you. Once inside, you pressed your forehead to the cool window, your breath fogging up the glass. Kuroo made no comment, the only sound to be heard the traffic in the streets.

For what seemed like a few minutes later, you felt yourself being gently shaken awake. "Y/N?" Slowly, you roused, rubbing at your eyes sleepily. You froze, sitting up. Shit, you'd had mascara on.

"Y/N?"

You turned to see Kuroo looking slightly concerned, but you just waved your hand at him. "I'm awake now. Thanks for the ride."

He stared at you, opened his mouth, then shut it promptly, stopping you from opening the car door. You rarely saw him speechless or without something to say. "What's wrong?" You frowned, trying to think of what could be worrying him or making him act like this.

Kuroo shook his head then leaned back in his seat. He scratched the back of his head and looked down. "I'm not sure how to say it, so I'm just going to say it." Immediately you felt dread in the pit of your stomach. Oh, god. Did he have, like, a middle-school crush on her? Was he tongue-tied? You did not want to lose one of your closest guy friends; plus, if you weren't friends with him anymore then you couldn't really be friends with Kenma-

"I'm worried about you, Y/N. Just... take care of yourself in Hyōgo, alright? You're there for a reason; to take a break." He ran a hand through his hair again, nervously. "You know what I'm saying? So just take care of yourself. Don't eat junk food all the time, it's not good for you. Also don't stay indoors all the time, it's good to get outside. You need to synthesize vitamin D," Kuroo rambled, "it's good for your skin, too-"

Finally you broke your silence, smiling and laughing at him. "Aw, Kuroo, you nerrrd," you socked him on the arm, evoking an 'ow' from him. "You're so sweet, what the hell? And don't worry, I'll be fine! I'm great at taking care of myself!" You gave him a thumbs up. When he looked at you dubiously, you added on, "Kaa-san and Tou-san don't live too far from where we used to live, so I can go to them if I need to, too." After a pause, more giggles bubbled out. "I thought- I was really scared that you liked me," you cackled, going into hysterics when he made a face. "I know, I know- I just got worried because I didn't know what you were going to say."

Kuroo rolled his eyes. "Uh, no, I don't like you. Not even platonically, after this," he grumbled, already getting into his theatrics. "I can't believe you're harassing me for caring. You're awful, Y/N!"

You opened your car door, still laughing. "Ok, ok, I'm awful, I'll admit it." You shut the door, and Kuroo rolled down the window.

"Whatever. Just make sure Osamu is driving safely. And text us when you get there. And," he levelled his gaze with yours, "do whatever you feel is best about Kita. Hopefully you take this break to sort through your feelings." Without giving you any time to retort something, Kuroo peeled off in his car, leaving you alone.

Quickly, you made your way into your apartment and finally took off your heels, leaving them near the entrance and sighing when you could walk flat-footed on the cool floor. Next you took off your coat and threw it on the couch, and instead of getting ready to sleep, jumped into your bed and face-planted into the pillows.

You fell asleep in less than five minutes.

You sent your Hyōgo address to Kenma and then flopped on your bed, accidentally banging your head on the headboard. “Fuck,” you hissed, clutching the back of your head. You sat there for a few moments, lamenting why you had to jump onto the bed and how the consequences of your action hurt so bad.

Then your stomach rumbled, begging to be filled, and you forgot everything you had been thinking about, making your way into the kitchen. You opened the fridge, peering in at the contents- or rather lack thereof. At least you didn’t have to worry about clearing your fridge by tonight, right?

Your stomach growled again as you shut the door, instead looking to the freezer. What did you have in there…? It slid open and you were glad to see that it wasn’t as empty as your fridge, rummaging through the frozen meals you had for a late-breakfast-early-lunch.

You pulled out a twelve pack of frozen gyoza and set it aside on the counter, pushing all of the other stuff back into the freezer. When you finally slid it shut again, you sighed in relief, and turned back to the food in question. You read the instructions on the back even though you were pretty sure it was easy to heat them up, and then turned the stove on. Pulling out a pot from your cabinet, you filled it with water and then set it on the stove, topping it with a lid to make the process faster.

Then you got to cleaning. Your apartment wasn’t all that messy since you didn’t spend a lot of time in it before going on hiatus, just a few stacks of paper filled with lyrics: some you’d tried working out, others hadn’t fit your two previous albums, but most you just didn’t like.

You checked on the pot of water to make sure it wasn’t boiling, and after seeing it wasn’t, you continued cleaning, moving into the kitchen once more. You scrubbed the plates and bowls you’d left in the sink for a couple days. Most of the stuff in the sink was silverware from eating takeout or having frozen meals, though.

When you heard and saw that the water was boiling, you added the gyoza and lowered the heat before going back to drying the dishes. By the time you were done with the task, your dumplings were ready, and so you turned off the stove and took the pot off. With a pair of chopsticks, you scooped up the gyoza and placed them onto a plate. You’d eat six and then leave the other half for dinner, you decided, putting them in a bento box for storage and then the fridge.

“Ah…” You sat down on the couch with your food and then turned on the TV, watching mindlessly and eating your gyoza one by one. After a couple of hours, you got up, washed and dried the dishes you’d just used, and then finally went to your room to pack.

Should you take all of your clothes with you? It’s not like you knew how long you were planning to stay in Hyōgo, so should you just pack everything, then? You opened up your closet all the way, clearing out the sections of your regular clothing and placing them on your bed. You turned back to your closet, now significantly emptier. All that was left were things you’d worn on tours or designer pieces you’d been allowed to keep. Most of them you could look at and remember the venues you’d worn them to; recall the quality of your performance and how big the crowd was. It would be pointless to take them with you, right? You couldn’t wear a custom Versace piece to the middle of nowhere.

You sighed and shut the closet door with a resounding thud, and then turned to face the monster pile of clothes you were going to try to fit into two large suitcases…

Ah shit, and you hadn’t even begun to think about shoes.

a/n: help the chapters keep getting longer even though i outline for this fic????? h o w

taglist (pm me to ask to be added): @papiibuprofen, @duhsies, @succulentmom

some ~fun facts~

- lev and alisa are models, as in canon

-the food was served in test tubes and other scientist apparatuses LMAO (kuroo got really excited because he’s a chem nerd)

- i based the restaurant off of an actual one in japan but changed some things about it... so for legal reasons™️ all similarities are a coincidence 🧍‍♂️

- i hope y/n doesn’t sound whiny but i find molecular gastronomy to be super esoteric,,, reminds me of that bar scene in parks and rec lmao

- kenma tucks his sweatpants into his socks like the wrestlers at my old high school do... this is unfortunately also canon...

- yaku couldn’t make it to the dinner event because he’s still in russia, playing volleyball there. he will be coming back to play for japan in the olympics!

- kuroo drives even though he drank a little... don’t do this

- kuroo is NOT interested in y/n romantically

- i made two kita shirts with my friends during a haikyuu watch party we had… my favorite one got a little messed up and i’m sad 😃 edit: i fucking hate it here they got put in the dryer without my consent and now they’re both ruined ❤️

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qweenofasadland · 5 years

Text

you taste like lucky strikes

Harringrove | Bakery AU | Modern AU

Though it was the middle of winter, the weather had been atypically warm. Well, warm for an Indiana winter. It was still cold and worse yet, it was raining. Rain in the summer was refreshing and had that distinctive and intoxicating smell. Any other time, rain was just a disappointment. It didn’t have that whimsical, redeeming quality of snow and yet you were still guaranteed to become cold and uncomfortably wet if you had to venture outside.

Unfortunately for Steve Harrington, he had to be at work early on this dreadful morning. He arrived with a few minutes to spare before he had to open, so he pulled out his cigarettes. He had been trying to quit but after the stress of last semester, he had picked it back up again. He was trying to light one up under an awning but the wind and the drizzle made it difficult.

With his fingers going numb from the cold, he gave up. “Son of a bitch.”

Someone softly chuckled a few feet away. Steve looked up and met the brilliant blue eyes of a stranger. His smile was sharp but his thick-lashed eyes were inviting. Steve silently observed the young man as he reached in his back pocket. He pulled out a black Zippo lighter and asked, “Need a light?”

“Umm, sure?” Steve wasn’t sure why his response came out as a question. The stranger skillfully flicked the lighter open and held the flame close so that Steve could light his cigarette. He leaned in but his eyes never left the stranger.

He dressed like your basic “bad boy”, the type of guy that normally elicited an eye roll from Steve. Dark, tight jeans. A black tee underneath a worn leather jacket. It appeared as though his hair had been slicked back but the rain had caused the natural curl to reappear.

“Thanks,” Steve muttered between the cigarette and his lips. The handsome stranger was far from the kind of guys he was usually attracted to but he could not look away. The golden-haired Adonis leaned against the building next to Steve and pulled out his own pack of cigarettes.

“You work here?” the man questioned him before placing a cigarette between his perfectly pouty lips.

Distracted, Steve fumbled for a response. “Sorry, what?”

The stranger gave him a narrowed glare before momentarily removing his cigarette. He dryly chuckled, ran his tongue against his teeth and upper lip, and then repeated with more bite, “You work here?”

“Yeah, sorry.” He checked his watch. “I should be opening up right now.” Steve took a final drag on his cigarette before tossing it to the ground and putting it out with his foot. He bent down to pick it up so that he could throw it away.

The gorgeous man raised a skeptical eyebrow but stayed silent as Steve unlocked the door and headed inside the bakery. He flipped on the open sign of the small local bakery before heading to the back to grab his apron. Steve greeted the morning baker, Tom, in passing as he took up his position at the cash register.

After a couple minutes, the stranger he’d met outside entered the bakery. Steve swallowed hard and tried to calm his nerves. He gave the man a half-hearted smile as he approached the counter. Steve tried not to let the man notice he was staring as he took his time looking at the menu.

Absentmindedly, or perhaps intentionally, the stranger reached under his shirt to scratch an itch. His action exposed his exceptionally toned stomach. The denim hanging dangerously low on his hips revealed sexy v-cuts. Steve had to prevent himself from making a small noise of pleasure at the sight.

With Steve’s eyes starting to travel south of the man’s waistline, the stranger asked, “How’s the coffee here?”

Steve quickly glanced up. The man was looking at him, wearing a knowing grin. Steve could feel his face redden and quickly started talking.

“It’s okay. Not great but better than Starbucks.”

“Hmm, that’s not really saying much but I guess I’ll have a medium mocha and a cinnamon streusel muffin.”

“What’s your name?” Steve did not normally bother asking, typically because he knew the customer, but he was desperate for any information about the stranger.

“Billy.”

Steve was a little surprised; most guys with the name “William” didn’t use a nickname or went with “Will”. “Okay, Billy, your total is $7.49.”

He pulled out cash and when Steve returned the change, Billy slowly brushed his fingers across Steve’s palm before taking it. “Aren’t you going to tell me yours?”

Distracted by the brief skin-on-skin contact, Steve dazedly asked, “Sorry?”

Billy laughed, “Your name, pretty boy. What is it?”

Steve scolded himself for immediately blushing. “Steve,” he replied as he handed Billy his muffin. “Your coffee will be ready in a moment.”

“Okay. Thanks, Steve.” The way that Billy said his name sent shivers down his spine.

Billy took his muffin and sat down at a table. Steve watched him scroll through his phone as he made the man’s coffee. Billy took a bite of his muffin, which doesn’t warrant any sex appeal but anything he did could probably be considered obscene.

When he was finished making the hot beverage, instead of calling his name Steve brought the coffee over to Billy. The attractive man looked up from his phone with a look of surprise on his face.

“Here’s your coffee.”

“Oh, thank you,” Billy delicately responded.

Steve turned around and began walking back towards the register when Billy called after him, “Hey Steve, wait a second.”

Steve apprehensively turned back around and waited for Billy to tell him what he wanted.

“There’s no one else here, why don’t you sit with me for a little bit?”

“Umm… sure, yeah okay,” Steve anxiously agreed before sitting across from Billy. There was a moment of awkward silence until Steve eventually blurted, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Billy flashed a razor sharp smile at Steve and simply said, “No.”

After giving Billy some time to elaborate, Steve finally attempted to continue the conversation. “So, where are you from then? How did you wind up in Hawkins of all places?”

He took a slow, tantalizing sip of his coffee before giving Steve an answer. “San Francisco. My sister lives here though. Maxine Mayfield, Max as you might know her. She actually recommended this place.”

Steve’s eyebrows went up. From the description Max had given of her brother, Billy was not what Steve would have expected. Billy suddenly leaned across the table, getting as close to him as possible.

Billy whispered, “Though I didn’t exactly come here for the food.” He bit his lower lip and looked at Steve through sultry heavy-lidded eyes.

Steve could not help but smile and boldly asked, “What did you come for then?”

He softly chuckled and kept his gaze on Steve. “I thought it was obvious, though perhaps not as obvious as you checking me out earlier.”

His comment rendered Steve momentarily speechless. He tried to fight though his embarrassment but was unsuccessful. “I – umm – sorry.”

Billy laughed more heartily. “Don’t apologize. Believe me, I liked it.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “The truth is that Max told me about you and I’ve been stalking your Instagram for weeks. I couldn’t wait to come here and meet you.”

Steve was absolutely taken aback and said with a hint of humor, “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or creeped out.”

Billy’s smile faded and he leaned away from Steve. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything.”

Gathering some courage, Steve reached across the table and placed his hand on Billy’s. “No, you didn’t freak me out. I guess it’s just that I’m not used to guys being that into me. Especially, someone as attractive as you.”

Billy appeared flabbergasted and grasped Steve’s hand. “Are you kidding me? You are gorgeous.”

Steve blushed and it seemed as though Billy was about to lean in for a kiss when suddenly the door opened and a customer walked in. Steve quickly let go of Billy’s hand and gave him an apologetic look before heading to the counter to serve the regular.

“Hey Chief Hopper, the same as usual?”

He nodded before looking back at Billy with suspicion. “Who’s that?” he whispered to Steve.

“Max’s brother from California.”

Hopper’s eyebrows shot up and he nodded. “Oh, okay.” Hopper’s adopted daughter and his girlfriend’s son were friends with Max. Steve placed Hopper’s pastries into a to-go bag and handed him a black coffee. After he had handed Hopper back his change and had bid him goodbye, Steve turned his attention back to Billy’s table.

It was empty.

Though he was saddened by his departure, Steve tried to brush it off. Two customers walked in and he gave a little sigh as he got back to work. When they had left, Steve went around and cleaned up their table as well as Billy’s.

Billy had picked up most of his trash, leaving only his plate and coffee cup sleeve. As Steve went to toss the sleeve into the garbage, he noticed that there was writing on it.

Meet me at 16 Dearborn Street. 8pm.

Steve wore a grin for the rest of the day. By the time 5pm rolled around, he was buzzing with excitement. He tried to relax when he got home but nothing worked. Finally, around half past six, Steve took a shower and prepared for his date or whatever his meeting with Billy could be.

He left a little early and drove around the block until it was close to 8. Steve nervously approached the door before ringing the bell. Billy answered clad in the same dark jeans that he wore earlier but he was no longer wearing the black tee and leather jacket. Instead, he only wore a navy blue cardigan. It was only buttoned half way up, his tanned and bare chest exposed.

Steve stood with his jaw agape and Billy lightly laughed before he pulled him inside.

AO3

#harringroveweekoflove #prompt #bakery au #modern au #wip? maybe

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keelywolfe · 5 years

Text

FIC: Luflous

Summary: The same events as in ‘Soulful’ but from Stretch’s POV

Notes: @crysta-cub was very interested in seeing all of this from Stretch’s pov, and, yeah, I thought maybe we needed to see that. His perspective on it is very different from Edge’s, so let’s have it. This turned out longer than the original because as we all know, Stretch has a lot of words to say. Whether they all have meaning in another argument.

Read Soulful first:

keelywolfe.tumblr.com/post/180237746448/fic-soulful

Read more from this series in the Masterlist: keelywolfe.tumblr.com/post/178224395713/masterlist-by-any-other-name

Read it on AO3:

archiveofourown.org/works/16660039/chapters/39093499

~~*~~

The thing was, Stretch knew he was being the asshole about all this.

He’d been really damn sick, he knew that, and Edge had issues about that shit. Fuck, who didn’t? There was no one out there thinking it was a-okay that the people they loved were hurt or sick or what the fuck ever.

So, Edge dealt with that by layering on the protectiveness which was no kind of surprise because Blue did the same damn thing. This was High HP Takeover 101, and Stretch should be able to give Edge that. In theory.

In practice, he wasn’t very damn good at it. The forewarned texts came like clockwork every two hours, and angels wept, he hadn’t moved off the sofa since the last damn text. Exactly where did Edge think he was going to go? Hop a bus to Ireland for some damn Riverdance lessons? It was difficult to keep the snark at a minimum when you had to come up with a new variation on ‘I’m fine’ every two damn hours.

Except…snark came at a guilty price when Edge looked so tired as he came home from work. There were so many things he was trying to handle right now and here Stretch was, sprinkling his bullshit issues on top of Edge’s current shit sundae. Edge was on the verge of making himself sick working so hard and trying to take care of the house, of Stretch, of everything, and the worst part was, there wasn’t much Stretch could do about it except try to keep his prickish nature at a minimum.

That left him here, trying to think of a way to make up for being an asshole without actually saying ‘sorry about the whole asshole thing’. Not that he wouldn’t, fuck no, but apologies were easy. Dime a dozen. He wanted something a little more tangible.

He couldn’t cook worth a damn so making dinner was out; seemed more like a punishment than an apology to make Edge choke down a plateful of whatever he managed in a burnt offering. A little apology sex seemed like a good idea, but Stretch could admit he wasn’t really up to a marathon yet, and a quick round of missionary wasn’t probably wasn’t going cover it, especially if he fell asleep in the middle of it.

So far, he’d managed to allow a serious amount of cuddling after dinner, letting himself fall asleep in Edge’s arms because it was useful in settling his hubby down and besides, like Stretch was going to say no to a nap. But he was still on the lookout for something better.

Like so many good things in his life, the idea came to him from the television.

He was watching ‘Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives’, because that show was the shit and Stretch had no idea why people were always down on Guy Fieri on the internet because hell, that was a guy with style.

Anyway, the episode had wandered into mac and cheese territory, a wonderland that was near and dear to Stretch, and at one point, they referred to it as soul food.

Soul food.

It clicked a little lever in his head that sent an idea down through the tangled paths of experiments, pranks, and various television theme songs, straight to his guilt center and there it hit the buzzer.

Edge had looked so damn hurt when Stretch asked him to leave the room when the nurse pulled his soul and even when Stretch had shown it to him later, that hurt had only shifted states, liquid pain to icy fear when he’d seen the IV. Not exactly the stuff of romance. There was a pretty good chance he’d be interested in a private viewing when his soul was in its natural state.

It was intimate, sure, souls were intimate as hell, but he’d also spent the past week having everyone but the janitor give his soul a looksee. A big deal, yeah, but there were levels and honestly, now that he thought about it, Stretch was a little surprised Edge hadn’t brought it up before.

He suspected it was an Underfell thing. Somehow, he doubted anyone in that little sliver of the multiverse was handing their soul over on Lover’s Day with flowers and chocolates for a little bonding time. To Edge, this was probably a much bigger deal than it was for him, but that was okay, it didn’t make it unimportant.

So, yeah, there was a plan. If Edge wanted to see his soul, hell, if he wanted to touch it, Stretch was fine with that. No one else had ever run away with screaming heebie jeebies from touching it, there were decent odds that Edge wouldn’t either. Plus, he could probably work it out so that Edge got a little more out of it than most Monsters would.

Stretch knew a little bit about souls; it had been years since any of those experiments, and yeah, cut that fucking thought off right there, but he did remember, and he knew how the focuses worked.

Souls could work on a low level of empathy; if he focused on how much he loved Edge while he was touching his soul, then Edge should be able to feel a little of it, without anything else that Stretch didn’t want him feeling bleeding through and if there was one thing he was sure he could handle, it was focusing on how much he loved Edge.

This was a great idea, Stretch was sure of it. If he worked out the odds, it was about 95% chance that it would turn out fine, less than a 5% chance of it ending horribly! Fuck it, let’s roll those dice.

Probably he should have waited until Saturday. Let Edge get in a good night’s sleep, wake him up with a few kisses, play up that shyness that Edge liked so much, and they’d be on their way. Except Stretch was shit for patience and now that he had the idea in his skull, it would rattle around like a maraca until he took care of it. So tonight it was.

About a half-hour before he was expecting Edge home, Stretch went up to their bedroom, peeling off his sweatshirt and tossing it carelessly on the floor. The hamper was literally a step and a half away, but Stretch had a thing for that little twitch Edge got in his socket when he saw clothes scattered around. It was a kink, so sue him.

The sweatshirt didn’t make a difference anyhow, it wasn’t like clothing impeded a soul, and Stretch might proudly be an idiot, but he wasn’t stupid. Edge liked how he looked, like the delicate lines of his bones, liked to run his hands over them, testing the smoothness. He was feeling better, he looked better, might as well let Edge have a treat to go along with the main event.

He hadn’t made the bed when he’d gotten up and he took a minute to smooth out the covers before scooting up to sit in the middle. Edge would be home soon, he needed to work fast, and Stretch took a deep breath and gingerly pulled out his soul. He hadn’t looked at it since they left the hospital and it would be better to take a quick peek. Edge probably wouldn’t handle any surprises very well.

It came easily, hovering over his outstretched hands. Silvery pale, a sign that he didn’t have any LV, and the mark where the IV had been was gone entirely. Good enough.

He heard the front door open and hastily dismissed it back, checking himself over. Jeans and a tank top, check, soul lookin’ good, check, ready for takeoff.

“come upstairs,” Stretch called, and he could hear the shuffling downstairs pause, clothing rustling, probably taking off his coat, and then feet on the stairs, coming up fast, well, someone was eager.

Edge filled the doorway when he stepped in, his eye lights a little bright and focusing in on him like a laser. “Hello.”

Oh, fuck. Stretch couldn’t help shivering, that husky growl, shit, maybe apology sex was a great idea…no, no, down boy, remember the plan, eyes on the prize and other various encouraging shit.

Instead, he gestured Edge in, patting the bed across from him. Edge was a little confused but willing enough, and he waited patiently for Stretch to spill the beans.

Stretch felt a flush rise in his cheeks, okay, yeah, so this was pretty intimate, far more than sex could ever be and of all the Monsters who’d ever seen his soul, ever laid impersonal, clinical hands on it, Edge was the very first Stretch actually wanted to touch it.

This was supposed to be for Edge, but Stretch was finding that he wanted this, too.

“i’m feeling a lot better,” Stretch said, little hesitantly, ““and i thought maybe you’d want to see my soul when it isn’t wired in like frankenstein.”

Want might not be a strong enough word. Edge’s eye lights flared wide; apparently, this was something he’d been yearning after for a while and never mentioned, yeah, this was gonna be a big deal to him, and that was okay.

Of course, Edge tried to give him an out, no surprise there, geez, it wasn’t like Stretch was the one who’d brought it up to begin with. And it wasn’t much of a surprise that Edge wanted to be the one to pull it, no, no, control issues, go on ahead.

Stretch didn’t mind. He trusted Edge with a hell of a lot more than his soul.

The sensation of someone else getting a grip on your soul was usually foreign and maybe a little unpleasant, at least in Stretch’s experience, and while it didn’t hurt, it was weirdly uncomfortable. Usually.

The delicate tendrils of magic that lassoed his essence and coaxed it forth were like nothing Stretch had experienced before and he closed his sockets, exhaling shakily as it slipped free and settled lightly into Edge’s hand.

Oh. That felt…oh…

Okay, he’d had other Monsters handle his soul before but none of them had ever resonated like this. Maybe…maybe it was because of who they were, he and Edge, the flipside of the same coin, he needed to talk to sans and red but not now, now he had to focus on edge, he loved him, loved him so, so much, edge was his brilliant sunshine through darkness, his safety from himself as much as from the world, and he wanted to show him that love, wanted him to feel it…

A little hazily, Stretch opened his sockets and could only stare in shock.

Edge was crying.

He hadn’t even known Edge could cry, he’d never done it, not once since Stretch had known him. Stretch was a little bit of a damn crybaby himself, not that he cared, own it, bitches, but Edge—

Tears were trailing from his closed sockets, not crimson, not a match to his magic the way Stretch’s were, but silvery and pale, a mirror of his soul.

That…Stretch had never seen anything like that before.

Um, yeah, maybe it was time to stop.

Edge didn’t protest but he was still obviously pretty damn reluctant to hand Stretch’s soul back so quickly. His tears stopped the moment Stretch’s soul faded back into his sternum, leaving streaks of wetness on his cheekbones.

Carefully, Stretch reached up and ineffectively wiped away one thin, silvery trail. “that was supposed to make you happy.”

Edge’s voice with thick, warm, as he murmured, “It did.”

The tears weren’t exactly convincing him, but Stretch decided to take him at his word. He gave up trying to wipe them away, bone wasn’t exactly great as a sponge and, unthinkingly, he let his hand drift down, resting his fingertips over Edge’s sternum and wishing fleetingly that he could touch, just for a second…

He could feel Edge stiffen, rejecting it wordlessly. Ah, shit, Stretch hadn’t meant to put that idea into his head, he knew better than that.

“Do you…do you want…” Edge forced out, because of course he would. Of course he would offer, even though he wasn’t ready for that by any means. Even though it would upset him, maybe even traumatize him to force his soul out for no better reason than he felt like he owed it. Of course he fucking would.

Stretch couldn’t think of anything he wanted less than to hold an unwilling soul, even one that loved him.

Turning him down didn’t take things down a notch as hoped and almost sent Edge into a fucking panic attack, and shit, shit, this was not how this was supposed to go. This was supposed to help, not make things fucking worse, and what kind of asshole did Edge think he was, that he’d demand a soul fondle in return when Edge was so unready for it?

Exhaustion worked for him for once, and Stretch was able to soothe him down, gently, set Edge at ease, and fuck, they should probably talk about this later. Probably.

Probably weren’t gonna though, because he already knew what Edge was afraid of, what he was so terrified Stretch would see.

And Stretch wasn’t about tell him that he already knew exactly what Edge’s soul looked like. Didn’t want to tell him he’d seen it the first time they’d met, swollen blood-red with LV, patchy veins of darkness scattered over it. He’d been in a bad damn way when they’d first arrive, but so fucking what? Stretch had been too; from the first step out of the portal, his own soul had been so faded it was a wonder he hadn’t already fallen down.

Red had seen all that from the beginning and so had Sans. They’d all known the stakes, for what little it was worth. It was over and done with, though, no point in talking about it now. And Stretch didn’t look anymore at anyone, not often, didn’t judge, none of them did that Stretch knew of. Souls showed something of a person, yeah, but they didn’t show everything and it was pointless to form a judgment on one aspect of a person when there was so much more left unseen.

But it didn’t mean that he didn’t know Edge’s soul was so much lighter since then. LV never left, but it could fade, it could lighten, those dark patches vanishing. His soul would always be red. It didn’t mean it couldn’t be beautiful.

Edge was so far from ready to hear any of that.

Holding his soul must’ve been pretty damn draining because Edge was all but asleep in minutes. Resisting it, sure, because his love wasn’t very good at giving in, but eh, a little petting, a little singing, and he was out like a light.

Even in his sleep, Edge’s grip on him was tight, both arms around his pelvis and Edge’s skull was resting in his lap, his sockets closed and that weariness seeping away. It left him looking a little softer, a little warmer.

Beautiful, Edge had called him, so beautiful, and Stretch had to believe him. He’d been holding his soul, there wasn’t much denial Stretch could offer.

Very lightly, Stretch traced the crack that ran through Edge’s socket, the unevenness of it rough against his fingertip. Edge was beautiful, too, in so many ways, and maybe Edge wasn’t ready to hear that yet, not yet, but it didn’t mean Stretch couldn’t see it.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underswap papyrus #underfell papyrus #by any other name

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wildcardwriting · 5 years

Text

Daemon’s Fate #5

[Katekyo Hitman Reborn]

Next Chapter | Previous Chapter

Daemon’s Fate on AO3

Summary: When Tsuna wasn’t born with a daemon, it drew attention. He was bullied so much that Nana was forced to take drastic measures. Yet, after Tsuna saves two animals (an abandoned baby phoenix, and a starved lion cub) they start following him around and people (including Reborn and the mafia) start making new assumptions… Poor them. Drabbles and some chapters.

XXxxxxXX

Part 5: Back Tracking

XXxxxxXX

The rest of the conversation was much tamer in comparison, but Reborn was far from pleased. Dino wasn't paying much attention anymore, going from shock to fear and back again. Normally Reborn would have snapped him out of it, but considering the situation was as mind-blowing as it was he let Dino have a few minutes. He needed to figure a few things out. The file he was given on his new student was falling to pieces the longer he was in Tsuna's presence. Now, normally he would have blamed this on poor skills and perhaps low-quality information people, but if Tsuna's hyper intuition was anywhere as good as the ninth's this was less about the people Iemitsu had put on his son's guard and more on the fact that Tsuna's latent skills were better than a civilian and better than a low-ranking mafia minion.

Reborn resisted the incredibly strong urge to sigh. He needed to gain back control of the situation, and reassess his training plans.

"Snap out of your shock, Dame-Dino," Reborn said using a bullet to help illustrate his words."A boss is supposed to be above it all."

"But, but Tsuna is trusting me with his daemons! How am I supposed to react to that? " He said looking seconds away from having a nervous breakdown. "I just met him and already he—"

Tsuna reaches across the table, to serve Dino some more tea, looking like the entire conversation had nothing to do with him. It made Reborn want to shoot at him, but he resisted the urge considering how close his student's daemons were and how likely they were to bite him if he did anything to Tsuna while they were away from him. This whole meeting was a huge mess, and while normally he thrived in creating chaos his student was apparently better at deflecting it off him than he first appeared.

"Your tea is going to get cold, Dino-san," Tsuna prompted when no one said anything after a few minutes. He took another cookie from the bowl in the middle of the table and bit into it casually as he leveled a rather serious look at the people sitting across from him. "But something is on your mind?" He asks turning not to Dino like it first seemed but to Reborn himself.

Reborn frowns. "You said good instincts. Elaborate." He presses but both of his students, past and present can hear the unsaid command.

Tsuna tilts his head and turns to his daemons. His mouth opens but there no sound—he's likely commanding his daemons. But he still doesn't immediately answer Reborn and its annoying.

There are few people who would even dare ignore him, but he knows better than to lash out at his student and frowns instead. To his left, he sees Tsubird nuzzled Dino one more time before flying off to land on Tsuna's shoulder. It was a show of support Reborn couldn't overlook, especially because Natsu followed less than a minute later. Both tensed and regarded Reborn like he was an enemy as they took their places across the table directly in front of Reborn. Any warmth that had been there only minutes before was gone replaced with distrust and anger, and yet Tsuna just sits there sipping his tea.

The disharmony between the two aspects of Tsuna is mind-bending, but instead of focusing on the one aspect that he still can't understand, he turns to his current student waiting for answers.

"I just do." He said reaching out to both of his daemons, patting them casually. Likely trying to comfort them, though why he was trying to comfort his daemons rather than the other way was curious. Daemons were a person's true nature, and most everything they did was a reflection of the person's soul that spawned them. Tsuna was acting like they were separate beings from him, distinct with all their own mannerisms and feelings. It was an odd reaction. Perhaps it was a cultural difference? It was hard to tell.

Reborn wasn't friendly enough with anyone from the Japanese Yakuza to get a general read on what was socially common in Japan, and considering even Iemitsu as his best source hadn't been to Japan in years, he was lacking information on what was commonly accepted and what wasn't socially. Parts of Tsuna's attitude could be a result of his native upbringing but there was so much he didn't know about his student that it was difficult to see what was nature and what was problematic. In Italy, a reaction like that meant therapy. In Japan, it could be common. He was left to guess. Until he managed to get Tsuna to trust him, he wouldn't know for sure.

And then Nana called them down to dinner, and the moment was lost.

XXxxxxXX

"So did you managed to get along?" Nana asks them as they enter the kitchen and start taking their seats at the table.

Tsuna smiles again, mysteriously. Reborn starts to wonder if perhaps that's Tsuna's default expression, perhaps like Fon hiding his emotions behind a smile instead of a sleeve.

"Dino-nii was very kind," He tells her, taking the plates from her hands and starting to serve everyone. Neither Reborn or Dino miss the change of honorific but let it pass. If upstairs was any indication Tsuna only said what he wanted, regardless of what anyone demanded.

Setting the plates out, Tsuna moved around the table adding food here and there, seemingly at random. Apparently, this was something of a routine because Nana takes a seat at the far right of the table and doesn't argue with him.

"Natsu and Tsubird really like Dino-nii," Tsuna tells her as he pours some more espresso into Reborn's tiny cup.

Nana brights up so much at the statement, Reborn can nearly see the flowers that spring to life. Her own daemon is apparently just as proud because it hops off her shoulder and starts rubbing up against Tsuna's cheek, lovingly.

"Oh, that is so wonderful Tsu-kun!" She smiles and then turns to Dino. She pauses for a second, surprised before smiling again. Reborn figures she noticed the rather odd patch of green on Dino's shoulder.

"Your daemon is so cute, Dino-kun." She says changing tracks from whatever she had been going to say.

Dino blinks himself, having entirely forgotten the presence of his own daemon in the aftermath of Tsuna's. He turns to his right shoulder. "This is Enzo, he's a Sicilian pond turtle." He says beaming and looks back to Enzo petting him.

"A good daemon," Tsuna says, finally taking his own seat. He starts to separate some food into some smaller plates, presumably to feed his own daemons. "I think it matches you."

Dino and Romario blink at the odd comment. Of course, the daemon matches Dino, its Dino's daemon. It wouldn't make sense otherwise if it didn't match him.

Reborn, on the other hand, frowns. That was a rather odd comment for his student to make.

What exactly is he trying to say?

Tsuna pauses in his motions and looking at the trio he must have seen something in their expressions because he starts to elaborate. "I'm not sure how much you know about the Daemonic Theory and Symbolism...? "

He waits for the trio to reply.

Romario shakes his head, and Reborn stays nothing.

Daemonic Theory and symbolism was a complicated, delicate, and exhaustive science that was used to explain the differences in character traits among Daemons and how it linked to personality, but it was an esoteric field that not many people went into to, mostly because it required a level of memorization that was left to dedicated scholars. Reborn himself only had a passing awareness of the science, knowing only very general things about Daemons and how it related to families. It helped his awareness and his study of people for work but not much more. His time was limited and it was probably the same with both Romario and Dino.

"Not much, I admit," Dino tells Tsuna, interrupting Reborn's thoughts. Dino rubs his head rather sheepishly, unknowingly answering for the group.

Tsuna nods but doesn't look surprised. "Turtles are known for their determination, endurance, and longevity. A person with a turtle daemon is a survivor, often as a result of overcoming a great challenge. A person with a turtle daemon is stability and protection for those around them." He pushes the small plates of food to his daemons and looks up to met Dino's eyes. "I think it's a good match, don't you think?"

"I think so too," Nana added in. "After all, he's your new brother, right?"

Tsuna nods and both of the Sawada's dig into the food, like Tsuna, did nothing special.

While across the table Dino is bright red. Next, to him, Romario is still in shock. Neither having seen that piece of information coming or the fact Tsuna himself would know about his particular daemon. Did his instincts forewarn him or did he know it naturally? Dino couldn't even begin to guess, but Reborn might. Glancing to his right, Reborn looks especially intrigued, and Dino tries not to shiver at the thought.

An interested Reborn was never a good thing.

He himself has only had that look directed at him two times, and both times were painful, to say the least. For Tsuna to have that same look directed at him, is scary. He wonders how exactly his new little brother will take Reborn's interest.

Reborn smirks and placing his cup of espresso on the table reaches for his chopsticks. He looks ready to eat, but his eyes are Tsuna.

He'd like to test this new found knowledge of Tsuna's.

"What about chameleons? Or Monkeys? Perhaps a centipede?" He says rapid firing questions.

Dino turns to Reborn in surprise.

In that particular combination, there's no way he isn't asking about the other Arcobaleno. Especially, because while he might not know which daemon and human combination pair Reborn is getting at with the monkey question, Dino knows centipede Daemons are incredibly rare. Lal Mich is the only mafioso that he knows high up enough in the mafia for Reborn to know and interact with so it's probably not much of a stretch to guess that Reborn likely means the Storm Arcobaleno as the daemon monkey pair, as the other possible one.

Tsuna slowly blinks at the questions, but answers regardless. "Centipede daemons are born of great difficulty, they face problems often in romance or socially. They are tough, sneaky, and constantly on the move. To have a centipede daemon as a partner is to be hardworking, stubborn and reach for greater heights. They are hard to know but the greatest supports... and monkeys." He hums for a second. "That's a little more difficult."

"Really? In what way?" Reborn said looking curious.

Tsuna looks to him meeting his stare dead on. "Monkey daemons are characterized by their relationships. Do you want general, or something more specific? "

"Acquaintances.. would probably be most accurate." Reborn hedges, looking pensive.

Tsuna figures that's probably normal in the mafia were relationships and bonds of trust are hard to come by. Criminality, let alone social criminality really isn't something he knows a lot of, even considering his recent studies under Reborn. For all he knows the relationship is complicated, Tsuna doesn't know, but thinking about what he knows about Reborn and what Monkey partners and their ties to life he can make a guess.

"Monkey daemons are known to be playful, they signify safety, bravery, and emotional intelligence. Among friends and family, they bond deeply but have difficulty seeing the situation from another angle. They are sensible and resourceful. Monkey daemon pairs are a source of profound wisdom if they allow themselves to move on from the past, and don't think too hard on the future." Tsuna says reaching for his tea.

He tries not to think too much on how he sounds. He had no idea that when he started learning about Daemonic Theory and Symbolism that he was signing himself up to be interrogated. Dino is looking at him like he's some sort of bomb waiting to go off, and Reborn looks incredibly evil. He knew not many people actually studied Daemonic Theory and Symbolism but this was starting to get a little ridiculous. He would have thought people in the mafia would be studying it if only to get some advantage out of being able to read other people. Yet, for some reason, Reborn seems surprised...? It a weird sensation to finally be able to read his tutor after nearly five weeks of trying and failing to get rid of the little murderer baby, but Tsuna can't really find it in himself to be too charitable considering the mess Reborn is causing him.

"And chameleon?" Reborn says inching slightly closer to his student as if to listen better.

"What about them?" Tsuna frowns and takes a large bite out of his food. What he knows about chameleons is his own business. If Reborn wants to know about his own daemon, he can go look it up. Tsuna isn't his minion.

Reborn pouts...? Or frowns?

It hard to say on such a small face, but Tsuna could care less.

"I thought you knew all about Daemonic Theory and Symbolism, Dame-Tsuna," Reborn says inching ever so close to sounding mocking.

The chopsticks break in Tsuna's hands. While on his sides his daemons start growling. Even Nana herself doesn't seem happy with how the conversation is progressing, as she frowning disapprovingly. Dino and Romario pausing in their motions, the tension starting to build. It like the two have forgotten about everyone else in the room but considering who Tsuna is picking a fight with Dino can't help but be a little awed. He'd never had the courage to talk back to Reborn as a student and yet somehow in the last few hours he's seen his little brother do that multiple times over and over again and yet nothing happened. At all.

If anyone else had tried to pull that kind of thing with Reborn in the mafia, they'd be sporting a few bullet holes, but Dino guesses that trying that same tactic on the heir of the Vongola Family is a different matter entirely. After all, his own family had some backup heirs if Dino couldn't take up the mantle. The Vongola doesn't really have that option anymore. Tsuna is all they got, and if Reborn is too rough with him, there was going to be problems. But still, the amount of pure courage Tsuna is packing is pretty impressive.

"I didn't say I knew everything," Tsuna says not even looking at Reborn anymore.

"Oh, I thought you knew...?"

"Whether I do or don't is none of your business—"

"Considering I'm your home tutor—"

"Means nothing." Tsuna hisses. His eyes are burning fury. He pushes his plate to the side and getting to his feet he lets his daemons perch on his shoulders. "You are nothing to me. I don't trust you. Ietmisu does, and maybe your boss does, but not me." He pushes his chair in, and places his plate in the sink leaves the kitchen. He almost runs up the stairs to his room, closing the door with a quick but sharp sound.

Apparently, Reborn underscored how bad his relationship with Tsuna was in his call.

Dino sighed.

Great.

XXxxxxXX

So this chapter was mainly to work through some issue plaguing Dino, Reborn and Tsuna.

Tsuna still doesn't trust Reborn at all and he has good reason to. Being near Reborn is causing him so much grief.

Reborn is still an arrogant little jerk who thinks throwing random variables at Tsuna is enough to changes things, but he's wrong. At its doing is showing him how much Tsuna and his pets hate him. Yes, Reborn is starting to notice that Tsuna is a little odd, but the extent of it is still beyond him right now, but he's starting to understand that maybe, maybe his methods aren't working.

Dino is pretty much caught in the crossfire between Tsuna and Reborn. Reborn didn't really tell him anything about his new student. He's confused and pretty much in awe of Tsuna right now.

Also, Reborn and Dino don't really know that Tsuna told Nana about the mafia, or what Tsubird's real species is. They just guess he was some random red bird.

Extra Info: Romario's daemon was pretty much ignored, but it's a Convolvulus Hawkmoth.

Next Chapter | Previous Chapter

Daemon’s Fate on AO3

#khr #fanfiction #sawada nana #sawada tsunayoshi #daemon's fate #vongola #tenth #daemons #ao3

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myrish-lace-love · 7 years

Note

One more and then I WILL stop... Don't be silly, you don't have to get up for me - I'll just sit on your lap.

Sansa was glad the room was dark enough to hide her scowl as Margaery slid onto Robb’s lap and started pawing at him.

We get it, she thought, you’re in love, great, could you please stop showing off on movie night when I have to sit a good eight inches away from Jon on this side of the couch?

The four of them got together each week, squeezing onto Margaery’s sofa and snacking on the amazing popcorn Margaery had. The delicious, crunchy snack was a small solace for Sansa as she watched Jon maintain the distance between them like it was some kind of religious requirement.

She deserved it, she supposed. She hadn’t been all that kind to him when they were children. She’d been popular. Captain of the cheerleading squad. Jon had been bookish. Shy. Nerdy. He only hung out with his best friend Sam. Sansa had tried over and over to get him to talk when Robb dragged him to family dinner. She’d even ribbed him in a good-natured way about not having a girlfriend.

Which was some pretty sharp irony, considering he’d come back from his second year of college with a head full of gorgeous black curls and some sort of magic that transformed him into an Adonis. Not that she’d looked. She’d gawked, actually, at the Stark summer home, when Jon descended the pool in blue swim trunks.

When she’d asked him about it (once she could get her mouth to close) he’d shrugged and muttered something about hitting the gym a lot when his girlfriend left him.

He didn’t try to turn it into a pickup line, though. Or not-so-subtly flex in front of her, like other guys did. Which was great. Understandable, too, especially since he probably thought of her like an irritating little sister. She wasn’t disappointed. Not in the slightest.

She sighed. Who am I kidding?

Read more below or continue on AO3

She wished every week that he’d make some kind of overture as the screen flickered. But he didn’t. He’d smile warmly at her when she sat down, in a way that made her tummy flip. Then Total Silence Protocol during the film. Afterwards he’d sometimes ask her in a halting, endearing way about her classes, until Margaery announced who’d be making the movie pick next week.

Which is how they ended up watching Scream. It had been Margaery’s turn to choose. She normally leaned towards foreign films or romantic comedies. But no, this week it had to be a horror film.

”C’mon, Sans,” Robb had teased her last week when she’d gone white as a sheet. “You’re not still stuck in your ‘need a nightlight at bedtime’ stage right?”

She’d given Robb an icy, haughty stare, and he’d backed down.

But now, as the images started to flicker on the big flat-screen TV, Sansa felt queasy. She was terrible about horror films. They bypassed all her good sense and turned her into a quivering ball of fear.

She set her bowl of popcorn on the side table. She could handle this. It’d be fine. Breathe. Breathe. The movie wasn’t even that scary, based on the reviews she’d read online.

Oh god. There was a girl trapped in the house. Of course there was, it was the start to every cheesy horror movie ever.

And Sansa was petrified.

“Hey, you okay?” Jon’s voice had gotten deeper. And Jon Snow sounding sexy right now was not helping. She realized too late her hands were shaking as she waved him off.

“Fine, Jon. Fine.” She plastered a smile on her face. They turned back to the screen.

Even the sounds of Robb and Margaery vigorously french-kissing couldn’t pull her out of the movie. The girl on the screen panicked.

Sansa shuddered. She’s going to die. She’s going to die in that house and she can see her parents coming up the driveway and they can’t save her!

She let out a small yelp the first time that hideous mask appeared. She felt a warm, rough hand close over hers.

“Sansa, we can stop. Turn off the movie.” Jon had his head bent towards hers. He was a whole six inches over the neutral zone.

She shook her head. She and Robb were locked in a childish battle of wills lately, and she couldn’t let Robb win. “I can’t let them know I’m a wimp, Jon.”

She could just make out his smile. “So I’ll tell them it’s me.“

"You?” She squeaked.

“Yeah. Why not?”

Because most guys would want to be macho, she thought. Would try to put their arm around her or make some other obvious play. Not offer themselves up as a scaredy-cat in front of their friends.

“Let’s tough it out. Would you–” god, she was really going to ask this, wasn’t she– “I think it would help if you kept holding my hand.“

"Sure.” And thankfully, Jon’s hand was thoroughly distracting. When the fear factor started to ramp up again – what was it with that creepy mask, it did things to her – Jon traced the underside of her hand with his thumb. Sansa wasn’t sure what he did to get calluses, but she was appreciative. She shivered when he rubbed small circles on her palm.

It almost kept her mind off the movie. Almost. But then the throat slitting started, and she recoiled, shrinking into the couch cushion.

“Turn it off, Robb.” Jon’s voice echoed in the room. Robb’s tongue was halfway down Margaery’s throat, so he didn’t notice.

And now there was blood everywhere. Everywhere. Ugh, how did people enjoy these? Sansa squeezed her eyes shut.

“Oi! Off!” Jon’s bark surprised Sansa enough that her eyes flew open. Robb finally turned his head. He seemed dazed, but Margaery was perfectly composed. She stopped the movie with a delicate flick of the remote. She turned on the lights. The screen was blessedly black. No knives, no masks, no blood.

Sansa’s heart rate slowed. Jon loosened his grip, giving her the chance to pull away now that they could all see each other. Instead, on an impulse, she laced her fingers with his. She didn’t want to let him go. Jon was staring straight at Margaery, but she thought she felt him squeeze her hand gently.

Sansa must have looked worse than she thought, because Margaery leaned forward. “Sweetie, are you ok?”

Robb’s obnoxious smirk was forming when Jon spoke up. “Yeah, I’m all right. Thank Marg.”

Margaery blinked. “Good, that’s good, dear.”

Robb piped up. “But Sans–”

“–Helped me keep it together. Sorry, slasher films aren’t my thing.“ Jon shrugged.

Robb snorted. "And since when did you become such a baby, Snow?”

Margaery gathered Robb’s face in her hands. “I know, darling, it’s ridiculous. Almost like how you asked me to turn off that home-shopping show because there were snakes in the backyard.”

Sansa and Jon snickered as Robb grumbled about “real world menaces” and “totally different story.”

Margaery let him fume as she clapped her hands. “Well, more time for games! Into the living room everyone.”

Jon ducked his head as they crossed the threshold. “Not charades. Please not charades,” he muttered.

Sansa had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Jon really was awful at charades.

“You’re not so bad, Jon.” She brushed his shoulder with hers.

“Do you remember last week’s stick figures?”

She did. Jon had laboriously drawn a top hat on a stick figure and then stood mute next to the easel. They’d all stared at him blankly until the timer ran out, and he’d had to sheepishly admit it was Abraham Lincoln. Even Margaery had been at a loss for words.

“But now I know your style, Jon. We can make it work. It’ll be like a secret language.” Like how you figured out I was scared and kept me safe, she thought.

As it turned out they wiped the floor with Robb and Margaery. They found their own rhythm, and Jon even high-fived her at one point when he passed her the marker.

In the end, though, Jon hustled out, like he always did. Sansa’s stomach sank at his usual quick exit. She couldn’t just let him run away tonight. She caught him before he got to the door.

“Hey, um….thanks, for all that.”

The floral wallpaper made the foyer seem small. They were alone briefly. It was chilly outside, but the entryway was snug and warm.

Jon looked uncomfortable as he tugged on his grey jacket. “No problem. Any - anytime, Sansa.” Suddenly he didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands.

“Kind of like protecting your little sister or something, right?” There was her perky cheerleader voice. She only wavered on the last word.

Jon’s eyes were a shade darker. Sansa could see the snow falling through the glass plate in the door. He was quiet, so quiet Sansa thought she might sink into the floor from embarrassment.

Jon finally frowned. “No. No. It’s not like that. Sansa, I–”

Margaery burst in on them. “Oh, sorry! You two look like you’re having a moment.”

Robb was right behind her. “Yeah, what’s going on?” His Big Brother voice was in full effect.

“Just telling Sansa I appreciated the help,” Jon murmured, and he was out the door before Sansa could get another word in.

Sansa sighed. She was in for a whole week of wondering what Jon had been about to say.

But Robb and Margaery broke up the very next day. Movie nights were over. And now, Sansa had no way to learn what Jon had meant.

(The next installment in this series is here on AO3!)

#jonsaff #jonsacentric #my fic #jonsan fic #jonsalove

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wildflower-daydreamer · 5 years

Text

Chapter 1 - Gorgeous

Gorgeous by Taylor Swift

You should take it as a compliment / That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk / You should think about the consequence / Of your magnetic field being a little too strong / And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us / He's in the club doing I don't know what / You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much

Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine / You've ruined my life by not being mine

You're so gorgeous / I can't say anything to your face / 'Cause look at your face / And I'm so furious / At you for making me feel this way / But what can I say? / You're gorgeous

You should take it as a compliment / That I'm talking to everyone here but you / And you should think about the consequence / Of you touching my hand in darkened room / If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her / But if you're single that's honestly worse / 'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

Ocean blue eyes looking in mine / I feel like I might sink and drown and die

You're so gorgeous / I can't say anything to your face / 'Cause look at your face / And I'm so furious / At you for making me feel this way / But what can I say? / You're gorgeous

You make me so happy it turns back to sad / There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have / You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad / You make me so happy it turns back to sad, yeah / There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have and / Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats / Alone / Unless you wanna come along

You're so gorgeous / I can't say anything to your face / 'Cause look at your face / And I'm so furious / At you for making me feel this way / But what can I say? / You're gorgeous

You make me so happy it turns back to sad / There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have / You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad / You're gorgeous / You make me so happy it turns back to sad, yeah / There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have / You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad / You're gorgeous

Sansa - November 2015

Sansa always loved coming home. As much as she enjoys living on her own down in perpetually-sunny San Diego, the smell of the forests surrounding her family’s estate outside of Seattle always brought her happiness. The crisp, clean, pine fresh air filled her lungs as she got out of the car. She greeted her family with hugs before rushing upstairs to her old bedroom to shower and get ready.

Tonight was Robb’s engagement party. He had finally proposed to Margaery Tyrell, Sansa’s best friend, after having dated her since high school. The party was being held on her family’s waterfront lawn. She rushed to get ready before helping her mother put up the rest of the decor, it’s not like Arya was going to help with that task.

As she strung up a garland of roses, Margaery’s favorite, she excitedly thought of all the family and friends she was going to see that night. Her mind turned to Jon Snow. Sansa’s parents were close friends of his parents for many years but, tragically, Rhaegar and Lyanna died in a car accident when Jon was little. With Jon having no other known relatives, Ned and Catelyn gladly took him in as one of their own. Her siblings saw him as their own brother but she was never close to him like they were. He and Robb were the same age and they had been best friends since they were babies. Arya has always been a tomboy and would try to tag along with their boyish excursions. Once Bran and Rickon came along, they looked up to Jon as another big brother. But then there was Sansa. She was her mother’s daughter through and through. She’d always been girly and ladylike since she could remember. She didn’t play with the boys and Arya, she had her own girly friends around to partake in makeovers and play princesses. She’s grown closer to her own siblings through the years, but never with Jon, there was always a weird distance between them.

But she hasn’t seen him since he joined the Marines after he graduated high school and he was a stubborn mule who didn’t have any social media. Sansa had learned he went to college up here in Washington after he finished his four years of service and now works in her family’s company, Winterfell Inc., along with Robb. After high school, Sansa and Margaery took a year off to travel through Europe before starting college. While Marg went to college in Washington where Robb graduated from, Sansa went to NYU. It was very much different to what she was used to back home, but she did like living in the city. After graduating, she stayed in the city for about a year, had a very bad relationship, and escaped to San Diego. She instantly fell in love with the climate, the beach, the sun. It had been seven years since she had really lived in Washington, but she did visit often and her family would come down to southern California from time to time.

Robb and Margaery arrived as guests started to stream in. Marg made the giddiest little scream when she spotted Sansa. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Arya roll her eyes and sneak away so Marg wouldn’t pull her into the girly moment as well.

“That is an impossibly beautiful ring, Marg,” Sansa remarked as Margaery showed off her dainty hand.

“I have something for you, Sans!” Margaery exclaimed as she pushed a floral gift box into her hands. It contained a pretty and delicate gold necklace with a small “S” on it, a mini bottle of champagne, and a note that read It’s my turn to pop the question. Will you be my maid of honor?

“Oh of course I will be!“ Sansa said, throwing her arms around her best friend.

“The wedding will be at my family’s estate in Hawaii in six months!“ Margaery stated as she put the necklace around Sansa’s neck.

“Considering how big this wedding will be, that’s pretty fast!“

“Come on, Sans, you know I’m a planner. I’ve had this wedding figured out for quite some time now,“ Margaery laughed.

“Oh and you were just so sure I would ask you to be my wife, huh?“ Robb teased.

“Everyone knew, Robb. Everyone. Since high school,“ Sansa retorted. “So who do I get the honor of walking down the aisle with?”

“Of course my best man is Jon,“ Robb answered.

“Where is he anyways? I haven’t seen him in probably ten years. What is it with you boys and not having any social media?“ Sansa asked, scanning the crowd of guests.

“He’s on his way, had to finish some stuff up at the office. And we’re too cool for that. Plus you know how shy and private that guy can be. Anyways, Marg posts enough pictures of me and her that I don’t even need Instagram.“

Sansa made her way through the guests, greeting people she hadn’t seen in a while. As she was gabbing with quite possibly her favorite woman in the world, Margaery’s grandmother Olenna, she spotted a very handsome man with curly dark hair coming down towards the party.

Jon Snow. Gorgeous Jon Snow. Holy hell, she thought.

Jon

He scanned the party, trying to catch sight of Stark family members. He was more on the shy side and wanted to beeline straight to his adopted family. Then his eyes fell on her.

She was wearing a very form fitting emerald green dress that looked absolutely amazing on her. She had always been a pretty girl, but she had definitely grown up into a gorgeous woman. She threw her head back in laughter as she talked with Margaery’s grandmother. It made him smile, he missed Sansa’s laugh. As soon as he realized he had been staring at her, he averted his eyes and made his way into the crowds of guests.

He spotted Ned and Cat and greeted them with hugs, found Rickon and Bran stuffing their face with appetizers. And as he was saying hello to Robb, Arya came flying in from out of nowhere with a punch to the arm.

“Ouch, what was that for?“

“Good job being late, punk,“ Arya retorted.

“Oh please, the party’s barely even started.“

He again spotted Sansa out of the corner of his eye as she talked to Margaery and knew he had to go over there to congratulate the bride-to-be and say hello. He was suddenly nervous again, as he almost always was around Sansa back in the day.

“Congratulations, Marg,“ he said with a hug.

“Thanks, Jon!“

“Hi, Jon,“ Sansa said. Jon wondered why she said it so shyly when he never remembered her being shy.

“Sansa, it’s been a long time,“ Jon said as they gave each other an unfamiliar hug. He hoped he wasn’t being awkward, but his heart was beating out of control. This was the girl that he had fallen for so many years before but he kept it secret, even from Robb. Especially from Robb. This was his little sister and he was very protective of her. She wasn’t like Arya who always seemed to be able to take care of herself when it came to guys. After the bad relationships Sansa has had, Robb became even more protective.

Jon did his best to not look at her too much while he talked to them. He was hoping to be over his teenage crush but those feelings had come rushing back as he was in her presence.

Sansa

She had been trying not to stare at him too much. So much had changed about him, in a very good way. She kept wondering why he wasn’t really looking at her. He probably remembers how cold you were to him back then, she thought to herself. She didn’t really treat him like the rest of the family did. She wasn’t outright mean to him, but she wasn’t very friendly either. She just had enough on her plate with school, cheerleading, volleyball, friends, boyfriends, and everything else in her life. She regretted it now, she wished to be close to him like the rest of the Starks, even Margaery was closer to him because of Robb. She felt like the odd man out again.

“You know, he’s single,“ Margaery whispered in her ear as Jon walked away.

Dammit, it would be better if he had a girlfriend, then I could get over whatever this feeling is, Sansa thought. “Oh hush, Marg, you know I’ve declared this ‘The Year of Sansa’. That means no boys. I need a break after Joffrey and Ramsey. I need to find me, even if that sounds horribly corny.“

“Sure, I’m just saying...“ Marg teased as she went back over to Robb.

Sansa was uncomfortable with the nervousness and shyness she felt with him, so she went to the bar to try and drown it out and replace it with liquid courage. The third time she was at the bar waiting for her drink, she felt someone come up beside her.

“Whiskey on ice, please“ Jon said to the bartender. Sansa felt her stomach do a little flip.

What the hell, Sansa, it’s just Jon, she thought to herself.

Jon

“You look gorgeous in that dress, by the way,” Jon said to her. Dammit, you’re not supposed to say what you’re thinking to her. Maybe this should be your last drink, he thought as he felt a slight blush come to his face. He still didn’t look at her in the face so she wouldn’t see.

“I wasn’t sure about it but went for it anyways,“ she said, smoothing her hands over the dark green velvety fabric. Jon’s eyes followed her hands until he felt ashamed and looked away.

“Yeah, that color looks amazing on you.“

“Aw, thank you, Jon,“ she said and game his hand a little squeeze.

“So I hear you’re down in San Diego now,“ Jon said, trying to bring his thoughts to something more innocent.

“Yeah, I love it there. Robb told me you two are coming down there for a little while to work out of the San Diego branch.“

“In a month or so. I’ve only ever been to California once and that was just for boot camp; I feel like I’m not made for that place.“

“Don’t worry, Jon, I’ll help you fit in.“ She looked at him with a smile and those blue eyes made him melt. Even the way she spoke his name made him melt. And now it’s time to back off, Jon, he thought. He made an excuse to go talk to the other groomsmen and tried to shake off thoughts as he walked away.

Sansa

She hadn’t talked to Jon for the rest of the night. She noticed how he hardly looked at her even as they had their small conversation. But she felt drawn to him when they talked. She didn’t know what to make of it. But when the party ended and she walked back up to her room, she made a mental note to wear green more often around him.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #fanfic #modern au #game of thrones #taylor swift #gorgeous

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darkhymns-fic · 7 years

Text

The Value in an Ending

Being a judge can be tiring (especially when you're swindling the government), so Sans always makes sure to visit the bakery down the street for some good food, some bad laughs, and the lovely voice of a nice friend.

He wants to make sure to keep this happy ending.

Fandom: Undertale Characters/Pairing: Sans/Toriel, Flowey Rating: G Mirror Links: AO3, FF.net Notes: This was written as a response to my boyfriend's most recent story, Murder with a Side of Lies, part of the Detective Papyrus series. Takes place after that story's events with a lot of references to it, and it's a super-fun read anyway that you should check out. *hint hint*

Everyone knew about Toriel’s Bakery café that was huddled between the barber shop and the small fruit market down on Old Abode Lane. Even if you didn’t know it by name, the scent of her famous butterscotch pie was hard to ignore when you passed by. The waft of golden, flaky bread and the tinge of cinnamon spice would make its way through the air, unhindered by the constant storms and showers that took over the dreary skies, enticing the curious, the hungry, and those with a weakness for sweets.

Sans didn’t fit any of those categories (indifferent, no stomach, and he preferred food of the greasy variety), but the scent of that pie made him go to her shop anyway.

There was a sign over the door. It was printed boldly and clearly for all to see, along with a useful design of a clock. ‘Will be back in exactly 1 hour. We are sorry for the inconvenience.’

Nah, that’s alright.

He pushed open the door, the bell atop tinkling as he entered. It was good to get out of the rain, and him being the numbskull that he was, he didn’t bring an umbrella or a hat to cover his shivering bones. Well, usually the rain didn’t hit him- it just always seemed to miss him at the right moment. But this time, Sans didn’t try to cheat out of it. After all, it was okay to get dunked on once in a while. And hey, this way, his skull was now shiny and clean.

Pink slippers placed themselves on the welcome mat, which was both simple and elegant, if he had to describe it. The ‘Welcome’ on it was stylized in cursive, printed against a violet background with pretty designs of curls and columns that resembled architecture. It was also large enough for the feet of the biggest of monsters. Sans, being the opposite of that, felt quite engulfed within the mat’s confines.

“yo, tori,” he called out, but she wasn’t present. It seemed no one was in the shop right now. (Guess that sign was for something). He walked towards the displays of cakes and cookies, pies and pastries, and the special snail creations counter. It was midday and items from each section had been sold to prospective customers, except for the snail treats. A shame, really. The snail pie wasn’t so bad if you put enough whipped cream on it and ignored the crunchy texture of shells between your teeth.

Sans then went through the little open space between the shop counter, heading straight for the back door.

Can’t break with tradition.

“knock knock,” he said, rapping bare knuckles against the wood.

He heard two distinct sounds then; the airy laugh of that sweet old lady, and the sigh of a certain bud of his.

He was hoping the kid would be taking his nap right about now. Oh well, can’t have everything.

“Who’s there?” spoke the kind voice.

“ice cream,” he answered.

“Ice cream who?”

“ice cream if you don’t let me in.”

He basked in her laughter, which was only slightly ruined by another’s groan and frantic whisper of, “Come on! That was lame!”

Hearing plates clink from beyond the door, his joke buddy then spoke out, “It’s open.”

Sans was greeted to the sight of the shop owner known as Toriel. She was tall and poised in her posture, hands clasped delicately on the dining table within the room. She was seated among a pie tin that was placed within the center of the table, several slices already having been cut from its shape. Sans saw his own plate – the one with the ketchup bottle next to it. On the pie slice was a red-drizzled drawing of a skull. Aww.

A bit further off from the condiments and sweets, the other side of the table had different objects; namely books, some paper and pencils, and a hat with a grumpy-looking, golden-petaled flower on it.

“I was just helping him with some of his homework,” Toriel explained as Sans made his way to his seat. “Right now, we are on algebra.”

“Math is dumb!” Flowey declared. He held a pencil in his leaf, albeit with some difficulty. “Who even uses this trigonometry junk in real life anyway?”

Sans looked at the flower. Man, this was good to pass up.

“you use it all the time, kid. triangle shapes are all around you. why, it’s as easy as pie.”

Flowey narrowed his eyes at the skeleton, particularly at the way Sans’ jacket was still sopping wet from the rain outside, damping both the carpet and seat. “That was stupid. You’re just stupid!”

“Flowey, that is quite enough,” Toriel chastised. She gave a little tap on Flowey’s head, making the plant flinch. “Please behave yourself when we have a guest.”

“no sweat, tori. he just hasn’t discovered math’s inner sweetness. it’s the reason pie even exists.”

Flowey threw down his pencil. “No, it’s not!”

“kid, would i lie to you? you ever hear about the worst thing about getting hit with pie?” Sans grinned wide. “get this. it’s because pie…” He turned his eye sockets to Toriel.

She finished with, “It never ends!”

Flowey groaned and growled and pushed away his math assignment. “I still don’t get it!!”

“oh yeah, tori. got, uh, a message for ya.” Sans took a crumpled-up note out of his pocket, though that was being generous. It was practically wadded into a paper ball, down to the size of a nickel. He tossed it over to Toriel, who deftly let it bounce upon her palm.

“…Sans, usually your letters are a bit more… well-prepared. Though I supposed this would have been difficult to mail.” Despite her words, she didn’t sound annoyed in the slightest. She smiled at the skeleton, and went to work on the paper ball as if it was a gift ready to be unwrapped. It was a challenging exercise for her large hands, but she was determined to see it through!

“now you know i like the snail mail we have going on between us.” Sans’ voice was light as he spoke. He watched as Toriel untangled the crinkled paper, and then looked away. Eye sockets wandered back over to the bakery shop section, back to the glass door, the bell above it, and the sign hanging over the front. The rain continued to pour, and the faint sound of thunder muffled through the skies.

“but it ain’t my message exactly.” He turned back to her. “big guy wanted to pass a word along.”

That made Toriel’s hands pause.

Flowey looked from both monsters, his dark eyes swishing around the empty space that was his petaled head.

Then a grin formed.

“Oh! Did Daddy say hi to me?”

Toriel didn’t say anything. Sans shrugged at the flower. “can’t tell you, kid. he didn’t mention hi or low of you.”

Flowey scoffed. “You know that’s not what I-”

“Asriel.” Toriel raised her head. The ceiling lights glinted off her eyes, highlighting the crimson that swirled within their depths. “Please take your homework and go upstairs to your room. Try to finish the rest of your assignment and I will come along to check it over.”

“What?!” The plant quivered with impatience. “But I wanna know what Dad said! And I told you that my name is Flo-”

“Asriel,” she repeated. Her mouth was set firm. “I’m not asking you again.”

The air felt hot, despite the cool rain outside. The flower wilted.

“…Ugh, fine.”

Was an interesting sight to see a houseplant try to cradle both a heavy-bound textbook and a sheaf of written-on papers in their leaves, all while holding a pencil in its mouth. “think you can handle all that, bud?” Sans couldn’t help but ask. The little weed predictably growled and tried to yell, but only ended up dropping the pencil and some spit onto the table.

Toriel glared.

“…I still want my pie later!” Then the flower nabbed the pencil with his teeth, and hopped off the chair to the floor, still attached to that hat that Toriel usually wore. Toriel’s home didn’t pave the way for a dirt floor, so the flower stumbled a bit, all the way through the living room and up the stairs, making sure to grumble all the way. “And don’t let him eat it!” Flowey shouted down before a door slammed.

Sans leaned back on the chair, shrugging in the most innocent way possible. “don’t know what the kid’s talking about. i already ate his slice five minutes ago.”

Sure enough, Flowey’s plate was cleared off except for a few crumbs.

He saw something then – the quirk of a smile that tugged at Toriel’s lips. But it faded fast the moment her attention went back to the crumpled letter.

“i can come back later if you want.”

“No, no, you do not need to.” Toriel took a breath, finally unraveling the letter. She stood up from her chair, reaching for a pair of reading glasses that she kept on her dress. “I will just be a moment.”

Sans resigned to that. He pushed away his own pie plate that was just as empty as the other.

It was probably weird watching her as she read the letter, he figured. But it’s not like he had anything much better to do. Besides, it was a good way to identify her tells – how her muzzle twitched like so when she was annoyed with something, or how she absently toyed with the blunt of her horn when she came across a mental obstacle. He noticed that same thing when they would both solve the crossword together – or more recently, the horoscope. (His cool bro’s suggestion).

At one point, her glasses seemed to steam up and, wait, was it getting hot in here? Having no skin made it hard to tell these things. But Toriel had removed her glasses then. She neatly tucked it back in her dress pocket, then proceeded to fold the letter into a nicely-shaped square. (Sans would have done that the first time, but it wasn’t like ol’ fluffybuns even asked him to. No need to do extra work like that). She stared at the letter with casual disinterest and walked over to the trash bin that was placed neatly by the door that led back to the bakery shop.

Then the letter immediately combusted into flame, illuminating the room harshly before extinguishing, all in a matter of seconds. The ashes fell into the trash.

Sans blinked. “guess that got you pretty heated.”

She didn’t smile at his joke this time. The fire was still in her eyes, before it dulled to a cautious warmth. “He wanted to know of my… progress.”

The skeleton was absently playing with the ketchup bottle. The opening of it was clogged over with some crust. Bummer. “yeah, guy’s a bit nosy, huh?”

“Sans,” she spoke to him seriously. “You are the judge. Is not inquiring over the affairs of his previous business in violation of his current sentence?”

“eh, probably.”

“…Did you tell him that?”

“think i mentioned a word or two about that.” Sans finally picked away the gross crust stuff, and was able to take a nice, refreshing gulp of the processed condiment. “but, uh, he’s pretty good at wording things just the right way, you know. making it legal and all that.”

Toriel sighed. “I must say I am not surprised. Asgore and his loopholes.”

“yeah.” Sans saw how Toriel stared at that trash can, the ashes already disappearing among the crushed bits of snail shells. “said he just wanted to ask how you were.”

“Yes, that sounds very chivalrous of him.” Toriel had to edge herself away from the trash to go back to the table. Her hands made as if to go for the pie, but she stopped herself, laying them clasped together on her lap.

“tori, ya know i’m the last person that’s going to judge ya for binge-eating.” He drank another swill of salty ketchup. “it’s a favorite pastime of mine, after all.”

There was a giggle this time from her – and it wasn’t totally forced either. He could appreciate that.

Toriel lifted her hands to place them on the table. Her claws tapped against the utensils. “It has been very busy lately.”

Sans nodded. “heard the family business was tough.” Especially when one was head of said The Family – the volunteer-run group of monsters that sought to help out all monsterkind with fundraisers, social work, and the like.

Toriel breathed in gently. “That’s a bit of an understatement. Just this week, a very curious, armless monster child had run away from his home. Said he got lost trying to find a job to help his family. It took quite a while to locate his parents.” She rubbed a hand against her temple, then gave a little sigh. “We were able to offer them some occupation, to help out with the home construction on the west side for the vulkins. They really do quite amazing work just using their feet.”

“good ol’ charity work.” The skeleton favored her decision with a wink. “we all knew you’d be great for the job though.”

“You mean the only one for the job. Certainly no one else was grabbing for it. Especially not after the reputation that Asgore had left it with…”

Yeah, having a criminal record over killing another monster probably had something to do with it.

Well, allegedly.

“you don’t have to stick with it though.”

“Yes, I do, Sans,” Toriel nodded. “I’ve run away from my responsibilities long enough… And someone has to clean up the mess.”

Sans didn’t have much to say to that. But he did have another thing to mention. Seeing Asgore on his weekly judicial visits (which really consisted of playing checkers and having chamomile tea) made him remember again.

“oh yeah, and the kid’s doing just fine. don’t know if fluffybuns mentioned that.”

He could hear Toriel hold in her breath. “He made a passing mention of them, yes.” She paused. “They are not safe with him.”

“don’t gotta tell me twice.”

“Apparently I do.” Her tone suddenly had an edge to it – one that was rarely pointed at him. “You know what he is capable of, and yet you allow this.”

And the thing was, Sans knew he didn’t have much of an excuse, except for…

“frisk is a pretty determined kid, you know. not much i can do against that.”

One reason he didn’t hang out with humans much. Or trust them either. Never know what weird stuff they were capable of.

Asgore must have thought the same thing.

She didn’t look convinced, and he didn’t blame her, but having her angry eyes on him was putting a damper on his mood. “kid looks healthy though. not hanging out on the streets anymore. knows how to brew a good tea – and can bake, too. and, uh, someone’s gotta do the big guy’s shopping since he’s under house arrest and all.”

“And why can’t that someone be an adult?”

“no adults were willing.” Not even Undyne, which he thought was weird. Guess she really wanted to let the past be. Maybe he could learn from her, someday. “and legally, can’t let past business associates have contact with him either. but you know, the kid’s been smiling lately. seemed real happy hanging out there… kinda creepy, actually.”

Toriel still huffed at the explanation. Sans tried another avenue. “ya know, being legal guardian and all, i’m sure you can talk to ‘em and they’d come running back.”

She finally relented and went to cut a piece of pie for herself. The tin clinked against both knife and fork as she brought a slice onto her plate. “I don’t believe they will, no. I was hoping… you could talk some sense into them.”

“ah, tori.” He leaned back against the chair, hands in his pockets. “you expect too much of me.”

She didn’t deny that.

Sans will always remember when he first met Toriel. It had been another rainy day, a quiet one, with the cars swishing by on the pavement as nightfall descended. She had been there on the sidewalk, umbrella in hand, her fur slightly matted from the rain. Despite the weather she wore a wide-brimmed sunhat, topped with a flower that even had a kinda-smiley face on it. She had been the first person to even look at him that day.

Oh, and he had been begging her for money.

“spare some change, lady?”

The skeleton had picked the perfect spot for his shtick. Just right by the mailbox underneath the lamppost, across the street from this adorable-looking bakery that always had the best smells. He wasn’t really a pie and pastry kind of guy, but he liked the aesthetic of it.

Seating his behind on the wet sidewalk, she had been looking down at him. Not condescendingly or anything like that, just literally looking down, especially at her height. He had to crane his neck bone to meet her eyes.

“Oh? Have you met some misfortune, young man?”

“yeah, haven’t had a bite to eat in weeks. now i’m all-bones.”

An unexpected laugh had bleated out of her at that – which was surprising. He couldn’t remember an audience that responded so well to the warm-up jokes.

Through stifled laughter, she gestured to him. “But then, why do you have a nice cream cone?”

Sans shifted his gaze to said nice cream cone, held within his right hand’s grip.

“…beats me, actually. but hey, it’s nice, huh?” Usually, he could think on his feet when it came to his stuff. (But then again, he wasn’t standing anyway). He was also a bit distracted by the way her long ears framed her face, and the sheer snow-whiteness of her fur.

“You know what goes great with nice cream? A hot slice of butterscotch pie. Oh! Or do you prefer cinnamon? Or perhaps both?”

“well, i’m more of a ketchup and fries guy myself.”

That wasn’t even really a joke, but she laughed anyway and hey, that was nice.

Then he heard a groan. “Who is this loser? Can we go home already?!”

Sans craned his neck some more. “heh, didn’t see you, bud. how’s the weather up there?”

Toriel poked the complaining flower, then smiled apologetically. “Please excuse his behavior. He’s just shy around new people.”

“I’m not shy around trash- ow!”

Okay, Sans had to laugh. Something about a goat lady scolding a plant was hilarious.

It was a real bonus that she seemed to like bad jokes, too.

After Flowey was made to mumble out an apology, Toriel pulled out a few coins of monster currency, laying it within Sans’ empty palm.

“I wish you the best of luck in your future. My bakery is just across from here, and I would love for you to visit when you have found your way. I will give you a pie slice on the house!”

“What?!” the flower shouted, absolutely mortified. “Don’t do that!”

First thing Sans thought when he heard that: alright, some freebies.

Second thing: this lady seemed very nice and genuine. It was hard to tell the real genuine folk of this town, even from other monsters. But not this lady.

“careful. i might take up on your offer.”

She smiled even wider at that. Perched underneath her umbrella, and dressed in a long, swishing dress, she looked like she brought spring with her wherever she went. Just have that flower on her hat smile more often, and it’d be perfect.

“I cannot wait until then,” she said to him, then proceeded to cross the street. He heard the flower grumble more, until they were both out of earshot.

He kept the change she gave him. In his back pocket, always just out of reach from his other coins.

You don’t give away gifts.

Sans will always remember how he first met Toriel.

And he will always remember just what she asked of him only moments before.

He tried not to think too hard about that, already fiddling with the radio that was set up on a small coffee table. Static kept interrupting the sound waves, morphing the voices coming out of the speakers. Toriel didn’t have a television set – too high tech for her tastes – but it gave Sans a great excuse to rest his eye sockets when they listened in on the latest radio drama. Maybe catch a few Z’s here and there.

“heard metts’ switching gears now. literally and figuratively, heh. wanna catch his latest show?”

Toriel was gathering up the plates and pie tin, her back to Sans as he laid back on her plush sofa. “I must now get back to work, Sans. Perhaps next time.”

“aw, come on. sure ya can’t just leave the shop closed for an hour? this one sounds really good.”

“…and then I told him, “That’s not my engine coolant, that’s my wife!” Cue the canned laughter, along with brief interruptions of more static. “Oh, thank you, beauties and gentle(fzzt!) Remember to call in now to get the chance to speak with your favorite (schzt! fshhh!) and everybody LOVES me!”

“killer new song,” Sans commented.

Toriel turned toward the stereo sound. “Oh, it does sound quite fun, though I should have that antenna fixed. But I really must get going. Hopefully they will do a repeat of it later tonight.”

Sans reached out to reluctantly turn off the radio. Too bad, he could snooze easy to this.

“Alphys, darling, you’re talking (rrrek!) again. Game of Bones is not of any relevance to this program.”

“B-but the mangaka is not even writing anymore and-and (tshiig!) o-opened a f-film studio to waste even more time (rrek fzzzt!) st-stupid sell-out and a h-hack!”

“Oh my god, just play a record already-!” Click.

He edged off the couch, watching quietly as Toriel made her way to the kitchen. “it’s pouring pretty hard out there today. more than usual. might not get many customers.”

“Actually, someone is helping take over the afternoon sales. I have other matters.”

“oh?”

Disappearing through the kitchen doorway, Sans didn’t expect much else. Then she stepped out again, leaning backwards with a grin, the dirty plates still held within her arms.

“Yes. Family matters.” Then she winked, and vanished once again.

Sans choked on air. Did that joke even made sense? Who cares? His bones were light from her delivery.

It wasn’t long before Toriel’s bakery replacement came in. The buff bunny monster was a bit eager for his shift – he was already wearing the pie-patterned apron and everything. Though he no longer wore the pin-striped suit, he still had his hat on, which shadowed most of his face.

“Yo! I’m like, here to help, boss lady!” he called out from the front. The shop looked ludicrously small with this bench-pressing monster standing within the middle of the place.

“Oh, he is here quite early.” Toriel, having already finished her washing, was now dressed in a more business-casual outfit, it’s colors muted instead of the brightness that was her sundress. Atop her head, she wore a pillbox hat, it’s surface absent of patterns and sentient flowers. “I supposed that gives me a head-start.”

Sans walked her to the front, eyes latched onto the purse she carried. Very elegant, with golden clasps. And the way she walked spoke of a regal authority that was awfully familiar. “what’s on the agenda today for ya, queen tori?” he asked her naturally.

Toriel blinked at the royal address – yeah, he didn’t know where that came from either – but she answered him still.

“Another monster family was unfairly kicked out of their home. Apparently, their human neighbors complained and cited a housing violation. I will be going to the regulations office for a meeting. I am hoping we can reach a sort of mutual arrangement for equal housing.” She tsked, already gesturing for the buff monster to take his place behind the counter. “It is not the poor monsters’ fault that they are completely made of fire.”

“yeah, grillbz has the same problem. guess his landlord just can’t stand the heat.”

Toriel stifled her laugh, but it came out as a hiccup, which only made Sans grin even more. “Yes, well, if your friend needs help, he can come over for a chat anytime.”

“i’ll make sure to pass it along,” he said, kinda meaning it.

Toriel was back to instructing her worker. “There are several loaves of bread in the oven there. Be sure to check on them. Oh, and Mrs. Waters will be here in about an hour to pick up her cake. It’s right there on the left shelf.”

“Gnarly prep work, boss,” said the bunny monster, openly admiring the cake’s decorative work. A birthday cake, clearly, with fanciful ribbons, rainbow rosettes on its sides, and a neatly-written ‘Happy Birthday, Joel!’ written with the neatest and florid of penmanship… or pipesmanship. (Because using a cake piping and all. Only cake aficionados would truly get the joke. Sans thought it was probably best to leave it out of his set).

Once the bunny dude was set-up, Toriel and Sans left the shop. The rain was still pouring heavily outside, washing the sidewalks clean. They both stood under the awning of the bakery, hearing the raindrops plunk against the material.

“Ah, and there is my car ride.”

Sans looked to his left and, sure enough, a fancy-looking blue car was parked just a little upwards of the bakery. With a squinting of his eye sockets, he could see the other half of the buff duo that Asgore once employed in his flower shop. The dragon-looking monster was still dressed in his pinstripe suit, from what Sans could see through the constant shower from the skies.

“I am sorry to leave so abruptly today, Sans.”

“no worries, t.” He shrugged. “i still got a free meal out of it. why would i complain?”

Just as she was about to laugh again, he saw her eyes widen curiously. “Oh my! You’re missing one of your adorable slippers!”

The skeleton looked down and, what do you know, he was wearing only one of the things. The other was living free in the rain, toe bones planted against the pavement. See, if he had skin, he could avoid these mishaps.

“how about that? must have left it on your couch. i’ll get it later.”

“Sans, are you admitting you put up your feet on my upholstery?”

“naaah.”

Another smile from her. He could do this all day. He wouldn’t mind it at all.

But she had to go. Though the car horn didn’t beep, her chauffeur kept staring at them in intervals. Toriel then hurriedly made her way to the car, one hand holding onto her hat, the other clutching her purse to her chest. Even so, she made sure to turn to him with a wave of goodbye. “Please come back tomorrow. I will make sure the radio is properly tuned this time!”

“wouldn’t dream of missing it,” Sans said, fully meaning it, as he always did.

He remained underneath the awning, watching as the car drove down the street. Though it was only mid-afternoon, the lampposts outside were already lit. They casted pools of light on the streets. The car passed underneath one such light, it’s coat looking to nearly shine from the washing it received from the rain. Then the car made a right turn, leaving Sans with nothing more than an empty, noir-painted street.

Welp. Time to get back his footwear.

He didn’t feel like going through the front door again (boring) and just walked straight into the living room. There was the turned-off radio on the coffee table, his ketchup bottle in a cup holder, and a pink, fuzzy slipper laying on a couch cushion.

Also Flowey was there.

“She’s already gone, you idiot,” the flower snapped. He was perched within a little flower pot this time, one that was situated squarely in the middle of the coffee table. Yeah, soil was probably an important thing for this kid.

That and manners.

“nice seeing you again, bud. betcha finished that homework, huh?”

“Hmph!” Flowey pouted, crossing his leaves together, as if leaves had elbows and joints and all that. “since you’re so interested, why don’t you just finish it for me?”

“ok.”

Flowey sputtered. “Wait? Really?! You’ll do it?”

“nope, just messing.”

He juggled his unworn slipper in his left hand, too lazy to put it on. “see ya.”

“Wait!”

He didn’t really want to, so just kept walking forward. The walls to his right shifted. Plaster cracked, leaving little shards on the floor. Vines extended from the damaged walls and floor. Wood boards were torn in half from the strength of it.

Flowey’s face hovered before him, features stretched to nightmarish proportions. Sadistic intent played out in the plant’s eyes.

Sans stood where he was, slipper still in hand. “you know i’m gonna tell your mom.”

The flower flinched. His elongated eyes and sharp-toothed mouth reverted back to normalcy for a second, before reaffirming themselves. “L-like I care!” he shouted, his voice’s tone distorted and low, but also having cracked there for a second. It had been a really weird sound, basically.

“i mean this is cute and all, but papyrus has a plate of expired spaghetti waiting for me that i need to figure out how to miss.”

“No!” The abomination of a flower stretched out his stem, grinning wide, opening his maw that was only blackness and despair. Or, at least that was the impression Sans figured the kid was trying to do. He wasn’t paying all that much attention to be sure. “I know… I know that- that you know! And that you know that I know… that you know! You idiot! Ha!”

“wow kid, you’re really bad at this.”

“Shut up! I’m not going to let you get me like-”

“hey. look. why don’t we sit down and forget all this?”

“Don’t interrupt me!” Flowey shrieked, his malformed voice now high-pitched. Amazing the bunny monster didn’t hear any of this. Asgore sure knew how to pick ‘em. “I’m going settle things with you, and then-”

“kid.” Sans dropped the slipper to the floor, putting it back on his foot with the laziest of motions, his skull angled downwards to better see. The continued casualness of his tone stopped Flowey in mid-gloating. “how about we take a breather?”

Just a moment of hesitation before the flower tried again. “I’m not done!”

Sans raised his head. He opened his eye sockets.

“Y e s y o u a r e.” A pause, to lay on the effect. “N o w s i t d o w n.”

Sometimes you need a professional.

The flower shrank back then, fangs hidden away, eyes reverting back to the normal dots.

Sans remained where he was.

The flower then started to shrink, his winding vines disappearing, though leaving a mess behind. Eventually, the flower was in the middle of the floor, planted in his flower pot. Flowey grimaced, looking almost ready to cry in frustration.

“see?” Sans shrugged. “if you wanted a chat, should’ve just asked.”

The flower grumbled some more.

“but hey, we all get a little grumpy when we’re young. you’re like in your terrible two’s, right?”

“Shut up already.” Flowey wouldn’t look at him. “I… changed my mind. Just go.”

“heh, okay then.” Sans walked around the plant, heading for the kitchen for some reason.

Then he stopped.

“one thing though, bud.”

The flower timidly angled his head towards Sans, nothing but venom in his eyes. No joy or thrill. Good signs. Maybe he won’t make these same mistakes if they bring him nothing but headaches.

“i don’t know what you’re assuming, but i don’t know nothing. and that’s all well and good, right? as long as things stay nice and normal.” He paused. “just a good time for everybody.”

Flowey flinched.

“capiche?” Sans winked. “here, go buy yourself a soda pop.” Sans took a coin out of his back pocket, still reflecting that light like it once did out in the rain. He tossed it towards Flowey who caught it with a fumble.

But he let a thought slide. Easy to catch wind of when you were magically-inclined, like a certain talking flower.

So don’t mess up the happy ending we got.

At that, Flowey shot out of the flower pot, straight into the upended floor. Sans watched the ground upturn as the flower ran off to his bedroom. (Which meant the stairs were slightly broken afterwards).

Sans was never that great with kids.

Now as the only monster judge available, Sans had to make… good judgements. And the only way to do that was to keep an eye on people, and observe them routinely.

Or in lamer terms, spying.

Sans had already done so with Asgore before the whole court trial, and even then, for a huge furry goat monster, the guy was rather sneaky. Sans couldn’t keep up half the time, which was why he was glad on having a cool bro help out with said case. Asgore had a lot of shady dealings – some downright killer even – and Sans wasn’t a big fan of surprises. He hoped that would be the last.

Besides, barely competent spying was really all he could do anyway. Whatever wards Asgore had set up back then, they were strong, keeping the skeleton out of the inner space of his home, where he knew those souls stayed contained. It was enough to make his shortcuts just really long detours back home instead. Probably Alphys’ handiwork, that poor nerd.

Too bad really, that those missing kid reports had to stay missing.

Now that Asgore was under house arrest, and his pursuit of souls to harness their power for a long-dead son was out of the picture, it made Sans’ job easier. He could just perch himself up on a fire-escape and keep spying for hours instead of following the guy from place to place. No room for error. Just the best scenario all-around for him.

On that same fire-escape, hood of his blue jacket pulled up over his skull, he watched. Along with his basketball shorts, he did not fit with the…atmosphere, and he knew this. But he was here, and that was good enough.

What would Papyrus do in this situation though?

Oh yeah, the whole detective reporting shtick. Well.

There was that kid again, still wearing their striped shirt, and their hair barely combed. They were seated on the floor in Asgore’s living room. A tea cup was cradled in their hand. And across from them, the big guy himself was seated too. He was hunched over, his burly body looking too big for anything. But Asgore persevered, holding his own teacup between thick fingers. His great horns bobbed along with his head as he nodded and spoke to Frisk.

And Frisk was smiling.

Weird.

Sans wouldn’t stay long. (Cold plate of spaghetti? Cool bro Papyrus, remember? Keep up). But he noted some other strange things before he would leave. Like an illusion kind of deal. Where a color would shift, and the rain would mute itself. Sans couldn’t really tell what it was all about exactly, and honestly, he didn’t feel comfortable anymore.

Still, it was worth keeping tabs on. Gotta keep the happy ending, after all.

Besides, Tori had asked him.

“Watch over them, will you not?”

The kid’s smile was a small thing, gentle and understanding. That was a good thing, but…

Eh, he just needed some sleep.

“you expect too much from me, t,” he said out loud.

But he was looking forward to tomorrow still.

With a sigh, Sans laid back against the fire escape grating. Then he was gone.

Meanwhile, both human child and big fuzzy pushover continued to chat with each other, late into the afternoon.

#undertale #soriel #sans #toriel #flowey #undertale noir #fanfiction #one shot

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