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Silently, Yours

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"Hey!" Reaper had his hand raised in a small wave. His mouth turned up in a smirk as he stood tall. He had his hands clasped behind his back. Swayed on his feet. His eyesockets held laughter. 

 

Geno leaned against the door frame and tapped his fingers. Reaper couldn’t see his glare under his mask. But he was sure to get the point across. That didn’t stop the god of death from smirking.

 

Reaper didn't even try to hide his emotions! Geno could easily see the excitement in those dark alluring pools of his. It was like when Error was given chocolate or Ink got a new paint set. It was like a child trying to hold themselves back from ripping the wrapper off a gift. 

 

“We were scheduled to meet at two.” Geno tried to keep his voice stern and hardened. He didn’t want to show any weakness. Not right now at least. Yet, even that he clearly failed at, his voice cracked just a bit at the end. 



Reaper kept that cocky smirk and tilted his head to the side. A sign that the god of death had heard that break in Geno's voice. “And?”

 

Would it be smart to slap him? Stars, he wanted to throttle Reaper. Also, kiss him but that was a much, much, MUCH smaller part of him. A part he struggled to trample into the ground. 



“Aaaand, it’s nearly three o ‘clock.” Geno chided as he pointed to the sun behind his husband. The position of the sun being a clear give away to the time of day. Reaper didn’t move to look behind him. He just leaned on his staff and continued to stare at Geno. “Do you understand the concept of time or do you think I have nothing better to do?”

 

“If you did have somewhere better to be,” Reaper started. He let go of his staff and leaned against it like a pole. He crossed one arm and waved his other hand as he spoke. “-you wouldn’t have waited the extra hour.” Geno felt his eyebrow bone twitch. 

 

“And now you want to kill me but I can’t die.” Reaper commented cheekily.  His smirk grew wider and he scratched his cheek. Geno could feel him look the smaller up and down. The God of Death sized him up for something. For his own amusement? No, that’s not the other’s way. Nonetheless, it made the Geno feel like an ant. “So you either will invite me in or slam the door in my face.”

No matter how Geno would go about this, Reaper would get what he wanted. More information about him. How the God of Tragedy worked. 

 

Geno grabbed his scarf and gritted his teeth. Eyesocket clenched shut. He slowly stepped out of way and gestured into his house. “Come on in, Lord Death.”


“Cool.” Reaper’s smirk turned deadly as he chimed. He walked past Geno. That smirk never left his face as he examined the room. With all the confidence in his expression, Geno was surprised Reaper could walk through the door; His head couldn’t get any bigger.

 

Geno felt his eyesocket twitch. Why did he marry this asshole again? With an exasperated breath, he closed and locked the door. He heard Reaper whistle behind him. He turned to see his husband with his hands shoved into his robe pockets. 

 

Geno's home was plain. No decoration went into Tragedy's home. It didn't even feel like a home. Only a place that Geno kept all of his things. He had his books, pictures, and clothing there and that was about it. Everything he considered home wasn't there. It was with his family. So why bother fixing a place that would forever be isolation? Throw paint and glitter into it would never soothe the ache.

 

Reaper’s attention had stopped on a picture. Geno wasn’t in it. He didn’t keep pictures of himself in the house. He still didn’t like to even look at himself in the mirror, let alone a photograph. However, that didn’t mean he didn’t have pictures of his family up on the wall. It was always him who took the pictures anyways. The pictures were the glitter and paint for his lonesome house. 

 

The picture Reaper stared at was of Error and Ink on Paperjam’s first birthday. Error had a smirk on his face; the Destroyer had tried to clean cake off of Paperjam’s face for the picture. All the while, Ink fed more cake to their toddler. A cheeky grin on the creator’s face. Paperjam had laughed at the camera and made grabby hands to his uncle.

 

They looked so happy. 

 

“You’re friends with the God of Creation?” Reaper’s tone was flat. Geno raised an eyebrow bone. He was more used to people questioning him on Error or God's questioning Ink about him. Maybe Reaper didn't like him and preached Ink's praises as many Gods did. 

 

“Yep,” Geno popped his ‘p’ as he walked past his husband and tried to go into the kitchen. The faster they got this over with the better. He rather not do it in the room he spent the most time in. Geno didn't want to soil his second safe haven with memories of today. However, he stopped before he could get into the kitchen when he realized Reaper hadn’t followed him. “What?”

 

Reaper shook his head as he turned away from the picture. Geno could see disappointment. It stung to see disappointment from his husband targeted at him. No matter what they had, Geno never thought he would see Reaper look at him like that. Death walked past Tragedy and into the kitchen. Geno followed close behind. “Just figured you two wouldn’t get along is all.”

 

“Why?” Geno asked. He turned quickly, hands thrown down in fists. Eyesocket burned brightly as he stared back. Not that Reaper could see. Geno stared at his dear husband's back. The other's posture remained careless. It made Geno want to scream in frustration. 

“Creation has a tendency to lean a certain way.” God of death plopped himself down into the kitchen chair. Head tilted back towards Tragedy. “He doesn’t stray too far from the Peanut Gallery.”

 

Sheer annoyance was in the God of Death’s voice and Tragedy was still unsure about how he felt about it. He never knew Ink as anything more than the god who helped and loved him. Anything else didn’t match the Ink that Geno knew.

-

“You’re friends with it?” The God sneered, pure disgust in their eyes. He could see their hands clenched. Clear attempt in holding themselves back from hurting Geno. “How can you be friends with a god that baths itself in children’s blood?”

 

 Even with their eyes locked on Geno, their question wasn’t targeted towards him. It was targeted towards the slightly taller god between them, Ink. Geno’s friend shrugged his shoulders, idly scratched his cheek. 

 

“Pretty easily actually.” Ink’s voice was void of emotion but his hands twitched. “Just keep a bottle of bleach on hand and you don’t have to worry about the blood.” Quickly, Ink's voice turned ice cold and he cracked his head to the side. "And He has a name, but you wouldn't care for it." The god before them suddenly snapped their gaze to Ink. The blood left their face and they staggered back. Ink sneered, "Refer to him as Tragedy, Godling." 

-

 

Even now, Geno appreciated it. He still laughed at the other god's reaction to this day. Ink didn’t care if there was a wedge between him and the other gods of the upper realm. He was kind and stood up for Geno and Error. Ink never let anyone talk down them down. Whatever Reaper was talking about, he clearly didn't have the full picture. 

 

Those were just rumors. Rumors that godlings spread just like they did with Geno. Just like they did with Reaps- Reaper!

 

“I’m surprised that Destruction even married him.” Reaper nodded his head in thought. He leaned forward on one hand and stared at the wall. Boredom now etched into his skull for the first time that night.

 

‘Shut up...Shut up. Shut up! Don’t talk about Ink like this. About Error like this. Just S T O P!’  Rumors were terrible things! Ink wasn’t as bad! He was one of the sweetest, perviest, Gods that Geno knew! Those were only rumors! Gods just got so bored they didn’t have anything better to do. For beings too good for lower beings, they resorted to mortal habits to pass the time. It was pathetic. 

 

All Geno wanted right now, was for those terrible rumors to stop. To leave his family out of it. Since when was Reaper of all Gods listening to rumors? Did he really change that much in the last century?

 

“They hated each other to the point of attacking each other on sight! -Almost got my head chopped off once!-” He then laughed at this. Despite his laugh, his voice was void of warmth. He clearly didn’t care for the ones he spoke of. It hurt Geno. “Then out of nowhere, they were engaged.” Reaper shook his head and looked bumfuzzled. “Surprised the entire fucking Upper Realm.” 

 

“Can you not talk about my family.” His voice came out of gritted teeth. Hands clenched in his scarf as he glowered. Reaper leaned off his hand and tilted his head to the side. His eyesockets were calculated and calm. Another thing to add to the list of things he knew about Tragedy it seems. There is more to them and me then measly rumors spread by bored godlings.” 

 

A beat passed between them. Reaper stared at him, his face blank from emotion and then... he laughed. It wasn't filled with amusement. It was more of a bark, forced and empty. Geno kept his stance, even if he wavered for a second. His hands nearly ore into his scarf to keep his stare on his husband.

 

“Okay, okay.” Reaper’s held up his hands. That smirk was back. He smacked his ‘lips’ together. He pushed himself up to sit up straighter. “I understand that was rude of me. I’m sorry.”

 

With a roll of his eyelight and a huff, Geno turned and walked to the coffee maker. He took cups and poured coffee into them. Tragedy had to fight back the urge to add the things he knew Reaper had loved in his coffee. Even now it was like second nature to try and reach for the cinnamon. 

 

The entire time, Geno could feel the other’s sight on him. He shouldn’t remember how it felt back when they still lived on the lower realm. How Geno would get up first to make Reaper some coffee before the other went to work. How no matter what, they would have breakfast together. It was the only thing Reaper made sure to do before work. 

 

Geno shook his head. Now was not the time to think of that stuff. He would only fall apart at the seems he desperately clung too. That’s not what he came here to do. 

 

“Coffee?” He turned with both cups in his hands. He held one up in an offer. It was almost adorable on how quick the god of death lite up. Reaper’s back straightened and Geno was sure there were stars in the other’s eyesockets if he had eyelights. 

 

“Yes, thank you!” Reaper all but exclaimed as he reached for the drink. When Geno gave it to him, the God of Death automatically put it to his mouth. 

 

There was an excited gleam in his eyesockets as he took a sip. Geno guessed he wasn’t surprised by that, he himself still loved ketchup on a daily… and chocolate. Chocolate was amazing. 

 

Has Reaper changed at all throughout the century? Small interactions like this… It wouldn’t give him anything to go on. Reaper was always wary of other gods, so him being here went against that. That’s one difference. Another is he hasn’t added anything to sweeten his coffee. Reaper always preferred two cubes of sugar, some cream and a dash of cinnamon. Maybe there were changes that not even the God of Death noticed. 

 

Geno pulled out a chair for himself with his foot. He placed his own cup onto the table and sat down. His fingers wrapped around the cup protectively and pulled it in close. The two of them sat in silence as Reaper chugged his drink down. 

 

Geno quickly grew tired of the silence. He didn't want to wait any longer than he already did. Those ninety-three years had already been exhausting on Tragedy. Just a second now in this kitchen... It was torture.    

 

Geno pushed the coffee cup to his husband’s direction. At the second offer, the god of death stared at him. Stars, Reaper looked like a child on Giftmas. Even with that new glow in his eyesockets, he didn't break his blatant stare when he took the cup from Geno.

 

The stare held wonderment and confusion. As if he couldn’t quite grasp Geno’s actions. It wasn’t uncomfortable. He didn’t mind it, but it was strange. 

 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Tragedy tilted his head with his question. He tugged on his scarf. He leaned forward on to his hand as he stared right back. His husband slumped back in his chair and took another large gulp of the coffee. 

 

“You aren’t disgusted by me,” Reaper whispered almost wistfully. Death sat his cup down and fiddled with the handle. He stared unapologetically at Tragedy. “Angry, sure. But not disgusted.” He leaned on his fist, an eyebrow bone raise. “You are the first god to not be disgust at the mere sight of me. Why is that?”

First? Sure, Geno hadn’t known his title back then but shouldn’t he still count as the first? Not Tragedy? Did Reaper really rid himself of him? Just upped and forgot about him? Was Geno really not that important anymore? 

 

“No offense, but I have seen worse things than death in my life.” Geno scoffed and crossed his arms. He turned to face away from the reaper. He could feel his eyesocket twitch in small annoyance. “Besides… I highly doubt that.”

 

That got a smirk out of his husband. One filled with curiosity and sent shivers down Geno’s spine. (Unpleasant, UNPLEASANT shivers, damn it!) He has seen that smirk before. It was the same when Reaper got the reaction he expected out of him. Like when Reaper would tease him relentlessly when they first meet. Nostalgia hit him hard. 

 

Why did Geno miss that? Why was a part of him happy about having the god of death so close? At the same time, he was pissed. He wanted to scream, to yell at the other. It wasn’t fair that his husband still had all this control over him! Still had the power to make Geno feel everything at once. 

 

He swallowed the magic that had gathered in his mouth. He tried to keep his soul calm. Geno looked anywhere but at his husband. Thankful for his mask that hid his emotions.

 

“Why did you even come back here, Lord Death?” Geno squeezed his side with a tight grip. He averted his gaze and frowned. He needed answers. He needed them now. “We are not companions. You have no real reason to be here.” 

 

Nice way of saying ‘fuck off’.


“You laughed.” Reaper didn’t miss a beat. Already knew what he wanted to say and he didn't have a problem with saying it. He shrugged one shoulder as he took another large gulp from drink. The God of Death wiped his mouth with his sleeve. The cup now empty, he pushed it into the center of the table. 

 

Everything in Geno froze. He turned his gaze back to his husband, his mouth almost fell a gap.  “I- what?”



“You laughed at my jokes.” Reaper shrugged his shoulders. Amused by Geno’s reactions. Something passed through the grim reaper’s eyesockets. His smile strained. “Not many people do.” 

 

‘Not many people do.’ 

-

Geno regretted everything at that moment. His hand slapped over his mouth and eyesocket wide in horror. He couldn’t believe he did that. He couldn’t believe he let a snicker escape him. 

 

Reaper’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. His smile was wide as he took the shorter into his arms abruptly. “You laughed! You liked my joke?”

 

Still dazed from the sudden grab and kind of uncomfortable, Geno nodded. “Why is that such a big deal?”



“Not many people do!” Reaper remained in his face. If he had eyelights, Geno was sure there would be stars within them. He acted excited like a child on Christmas day. His nose nearly touched Geno’s. A strong whiff of coffee and cinnamon came from the god of death’s breath. Back then, it had Geno’s nose scrunched up. “Wanna hear a knock-knock joke?”



How could Geno say ‘no’ to that face?

-

 

Right. Unlike Geno, Reaper didn’t exactly get along with other gods. Well, he didn’t either but he at least had Error and Ink. This entire time, Reaper had no one. 

 

Geno hated to say it, but sympathy hit him in the soul hard. Yes, Reaper had been an ass, but he had been alone. Maybe he deserved it but that didn't make Geno feel less sympathy for the other. He shouldn't feel that for Reaper though! He should be laughing his ass off at his husband. Reaper may have been the one to leave, but he was the one left alone. But that wasn't the case. He got his answers. It just wasn’t what he suspected. 

 

He forgot that even though a century passed, he still knew Reaper better than most. Knew his tale, his weakness, and his strengths. He knew Reaper’s love for coffee and his secret love for flowers. He knew how Reaper despised his job and other gods on an entirely new level for hate. Somehow the same amount of hate though. 

 

Reaper, despite everything, didn’t change. 

 

“Creep you out?” That cocky attitude was a lie. Geno could see right through that bullshit. Reaper was freaking out on the inside. He didn’t want the god of tragedy to force him out. Not when he was the first one to tolerate Reaper’s company in a century.


“No,” Geno fiddled with his scarf and scoot his chair back from the table. He stood up and he could feel his arm shake slightly with nerves. Reaper watched him with furrowed eyebrow bones. Before he could ask Geno was he was doing, the smaller beat him to the punch. 



“You… You still like cinnamon in your coffee?” Reaper froze and his body stiffened. “You haven’t asked for any or for sugar either.” He stared at Geno and his eyesockets were wide in confused disbelief. “Or do you like it just black now?”

 

“W-What?” Reaper had tensed and fingers clenched in his robe. He could see it was taking everything within Reaper to not leap out of his seat and grab Geno. “How...How would you know that?

 

Geno grabbed the edge of his mask and hesitated as he took it off. His entire body shook. His breath was stuck in his throat. He wanted to collapse and hide in the corner. He simply placed the mask on the table, made sure to not drop it. 

 

With the mask off, he didn’t look towards his husband. He felt exposed and weak without his barrier. He grabbed onto his scarf and pushed it up over his mouth. He couldn't bring himself to look up at Reaper. He just felt like was going to fall to the ground. It took everything in him to not do so. Now without his mask, he knew he would collapse if he looked up at Reaper.

 

“...Sunshine?” 

 

At the sound of disbelief in his husband’s voice, he finally brought himself to look to Reaper. His husband’s body had frozen. Geno wondered if it was him that was shaking or if it was Reaper. It took everything in him to not fall. His hand clenched in his scarf, he gave a nervous laugh. “Hey, Reaps…”