Sancest one-shots. [NOT TAKING REQUESTS]

drunken love.

THIS IS NOT WRITEN BY ME. I REAPEAT. THIS WAS NOT WRITEN BY ME. It was writen by auzlachat. She asked me for a ship a plotline and sin or no sin. My answer? Afterdeath (naturally) geno being drunk and slight sin. She wrote it cuz she wanted it in my book. This was a one time thing. I'm sorry but I may not do it again. If you want to wrote something and tag me in it to read I can shout out to you to go read your stories. Also I am sorry for the long openings. This is also going to be the longest story in the book. Let's begin
It was the dead of night when something seemed to wake Death himself. He was skeptical as to what it was exactly, but he felt there was something wrong. He rose up from the warm, comforting bed, planting his feet squarely on the cold hardwood floor and shuffling his way around the house. He lazily glanced around with one eye open, looking for any signs as to what caused him this restless night, and he would reap it. He was not in the mood to have a decent sleep interrupted by some mindless robber with half the brains of a dog, which is said to have the brain the size of a piece of kibble.

It wasn't until now that Death had got his first real clue, though. A second before he entered the kitchen, the smell of alcohol invaded his nose, almost making Death cringe from the sudden change in air quality. He was used to the smell of alcohol by now, but this late at night, and right after waking up? It was a little too much at the moment, even for the reaper. He peeked around the corner to see a familiar shape of Geno sitting in a creaky wooden stool at the kitchen counter. His back faced Death, while in his right hand he clutched an all-too-familiar brown bottle by its long glass neck. He could hear a few inaudible grunts and gurgles come from Geno, but other than that, silence once again resumed. Death hated seeing Geno do this to himself; it was starting to become more frequent, and at random points of time. He felt as though it's time he really tried getting the guy to stop these drinking habits, they were destroying him, which he honestly didn't need. The guy was already perpetually bleeding, and in bad condition.

Death began to step out into the kitchen when something crunched under his slipper. Looking down, he saw shards of broken glass scattered about. Perhaps this was what woke him up from his sleep? When Death looked back up, Geno had turned halfway around, surprise written in his expression.

"Oh, uh, did I wake you? Sorry 'bout that." His voice sounded thick, and strained, as if it hurt just to talk.

"Eh, you're good. Anyway, why are you out here drinking this stuff? Wouldn't you rather be in bed with me?" I avoided the pieces of glass and made my way over to Geno, pulling out a wooden stool and sitting beside him.

He didn't talk at first, but he then let out a short scoff, "Yeah, I'd like that too. But, uh, you know, nightmares and all." He took another swig from the bottle, emptying it of its contents, "Oh, also, you look asleep when you're cute."

Geno had leaned close when he said that last bit and Death could smell the strong scent of the beer on his breath, his words slurred. "How many of these did you honestly drink?"

"Eh, lost count, but I smashed one. I got mad," he put on a weak smile before hanging his head, suddenly becoming crestfallen.

"Geno, look at me." He slowly lifted his head and looked to the reaper, his false cheerful attitude dissipating altogether. "What happened? Why do you keep doing this to yourself?"

Geno only tightened his grip on the empty bottle that had remained in his boney hand, a crack forming on its glossy surface. He turned away from the angel of death and tried to get up, stumbling around a bit. He bumped into a small lamp, knocking it over off the counter. It landed with a loud crash, its painted remains scattering across the linoleum floor of the kitchen. Geno jumped back a few inches, groaning at the mess of his favorite lamp. Yes, it was his favorite. How? That's another, more humorous and short short story that will be told another time perhaps. But resuming back to the present... Death sighed at the poor display. He honestly felt bad for Geno, and his lamp, which is saying something since he normally doesn't feel bad for anything. He would never allow himself to get too attached to something, because he knew one day he'd have to reap it. Oh, but Geno? It was agreed Geno could never be reaped. That determination still coursing through him gives him the ability to hide in a save menu, which he could use at any time to elude him or his brother. As for another reason, well, it was also decided that Geno is too important to his AU to ever be reaped, essentially making him immortal in ReaperTale. If any other AU were to try and take his life, however, they'd have to answer to Death himself. With knowing Geno would never be reaped, and with the time the two had spent around one another, it was hard for Death to keep Geno at a distance, and before he knew it, he had grown fond of the scarred skeleton. Geno was the one who taught him that he was still capable of creation, and for that he was grateful. Geno helped him on more than one occasion, so now it's time he returns the favor. He can't just stand by when the one thing he truly cares about slowly suffers. Now is the time to ACT.