Yvesfish

Flowers made from straw



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    “Oh my god,” the intruder says, voice coming faster and higher-pitched. “Shane, what the fuck? Oh my god.”

    “Eeleeyah, come to my cottage,” Ilya mocks, voice muffled by Shane’s skin. “Don’t go to Russia. Come to my house instead. Is so private. No one will know…we will be completely alone. Together.”

    “Oh my god, is that Ilya Rozanov?” the intruder yelps like he's about to start hyperventilating. “Why is Ilya Rozanov half-naked in our kitchen, Shane?”

    “Okay, I know how this looks,” Shane tells Ilya, “But I mean, technically, we are still alone. Together.”

    or,

    At the cottage, Shane and Ilya meet eighteen year old Shane Hollander. This is really only a surprise for one of them. Everyone handles it as well as can be expected.

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    05 Mar 2026

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    The semi-sentient god that posesses Chuuya is one that Dazai's family has worshipped for centuries. Take the Mafia's most powerful duo and throw them into an undercover mission disguised as traumatized teenagers at U.A. High for aspiring heroes.

    (OR: Dazai worships Arahabaki. Chuuya carries Arahabaki. "What do you mean we need to infiltrate the heroes?")

    "And this pure, brutal love, like everything holy, burns the eyes of Humans who observe it, that's why they'll never see the terrible beauty of it all."

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    06 Feb 2026

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    “You have no idea who your parents really are, do you?” the Russian asked seriously after a few minutes passed of them staring at one another, though it was really more Shane glaring and heaving while Ilya calmly observed him with an unsure glint in his eye.

    “I have no idea what I’m doing here and what you want with them. If this is some kind of stupid business dispute, I have bad news for you, asshole. I don't know about their business, I don’t even know what their business is, and I’ve never been involved in their business,” Shane seethed as slowly as he possibly could so Ilya could understand that he genuinely had no idea of what was going on. “Now will you please untie me and take me home? I don’t even care if you knock me out again, just fucking let me go!”

    Ilya set the glass down to the side of him on the black leather cushion and rose from his seat, unfolding gracefully until he was towering over Shane with cool indifference. He bent slightly, leaned in close enough to Shane’s face that he could smell the vodka the Russian man had been drinking, then said easily, “I think I will keep you, actually.”

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    29 Jan 2026