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toedenandbackagain · 5 years

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Bovine Rage

Summary: Aziraphale fights a cow

This is absolutely the fault of @pendragony. Don’t look at me.

Aziraphale is enjoying a cup of tea when Crowley makes the noise. The soul wrenching sound that rips out of his chest with reckless abandon and has Aziraphale on his feet and prepared to fight, divine light burning through his veins as he throws an arm in front of Crowley's chest to shove him back and behind him.

He looks out the window of the cottage, expecting to see an army from Heaven, or a legion of demons. He has prepared for this day since they seemingly got away with their little switch, and he had hoped it would never come. He prepares for the worst.

Instead, he sees an incredibly fat dairy cow devouring Crowley's daffodils.

"Oh dear." Is all he can manage.

Crowley makes the noise again. His hands grab uselessly at the air before he clenches them into fists and growls.

"Be right back, angel." He says lightly, sauntering to the back door with one hand already raised in preparation to no doubt miracle the cow off into the ether, but Aziraphale is already grabbing it from the air.

"Crowley. Crowley the neighbours already think we're strange, I doubt that the sudden disappearance of a cow will do anything to dissuade that notion."

"My daffodils!" Crowley near shrieks, gesturing blindly to the window where the cow is continuing to graze on the flowers with reckless abandon.

There's a story behind those particular daffodils, and the garden at large, which Aziraphale is sure contributes to this level of panic. Ever since they'd moved to this cottage they'd tried to carefully insinuate themselves into the already tight knit community. It had been going well, all things considered, until a woman named Edith Fritz had poked her head over the neat hedging while Crowley was garden and begun praising his efforts. Crowley had wiped the sweat from his forehead and politely thanked her, and Aziraphale had silently congratulated himself on another neighbour in the bag when Edith had opened her mouth again to announce that her garden was the best in the town, and won the award every year. And perhaps when their little garden was spruced up that they could enter for a bit of fun. Then she had trotted off with a smile and Crowley had proceeded to go almost rabid at the suggestion that his garden was already anything less than perfect.

That had begun Crowley dedicating hours a day to the plants, but not just in his usual manner of scheduled screaming. Oh no, Crowley plucked weeds by hand and misted and fertilized and nestled bulbs carefully into the ground before covering them with the freshly turned over earth; all while Aziraphale watched from the white wicker patio furniture with a glass of ice water in hand. Crowley still engaged in his usual aggressions, though Aziraphale had to beg it be kept to specific hours and miracled so as not to be heard because the neighbours were quite nosey and they would never ask, they would just gossip.

That is to say, there was not a single whiff of a miracle anywhere in that garden that sprawled out behind the window. Because Crowley wanted the satisfaction of winning without one, to shove it into Edith's face with unbridled glee. And now there was a dairy cow burning the victory to ashes.

"I will handle it." Aziraphale says firmly, pointedly directing Crowley to the kitchen table.

"What're you going to do, angel? Have a stern chat with it?"

Aziraphale brushes the snark off with a roll of his eyes because he knows Crowley is experiencing an awful lot of trauma. There had been a frightful few days when Crowley had discovered a fuzzy caterpillar taking up residence in the tulips, until the thing had been carefully collected in the dead of night and deposited into the lush wildlife that sprawled through the centre of the town park. He opens the door and heads outside along the river stone path, crossing the soft grass with his bare feet and coming to a stop an arms length from the cow. It looks up, chewing lazily, before it returns to the daffodils.

"You need to leave."

The cow bites the head off a flower. Aziraphale sighs and places a firm hand on the side of the cow, giving it a gentle push.

"Go on. Back where you came from, dear."

The cow moos and raises her head and Aziraphale has a brief moment where he thinks he's gotten the job done before he feels the heavy weight of a cow being pushed against his belly. The movement is unexpected and Aziraphale loses his footing on the dew drenched grass and falls backwards. He hears a short burst of laughter and sees Crowley all but plastered the kitchen window.

"You can take her, angel!" He shouts through the glass, clearly forgetting his daffodil massacre induced stress in favour of a little tease.

Aziraphale huffs when he gets to his feet. He can feel the grass stains on the seat of his cream cotton sleep pants, worn only for the aesthetic purpose given that he doesn't actually sleep. The cow has almost finished razing down half the bed of daffodils and Aziraphale pushes the sleeves of his night shirt up to the elbows.

"You listen here. I'm being quite polite about this, all things considered. Crowley planted those because I mentioned I liked them so they mean as much to me as they do to him and I quite liked these pants and now they're ruined. I might not waste a miracle on you but I will certainly not allow you to destroy this beautiful garden."

The cow moos again and this time Aziraphale predicts the touch of the heavy head, dodging out of the way to plant both hands on the side of the animal and shove. It doesn't move, and Aziraphale mutters under his breath and shoves again, this time with more force. The cow begins a trundle, an awkward shuffle of limbs as it moves away from the daffodils and Aziraphale sighs in relief.

The cow ducks it's head into the bed of tulips and Aziraphale hands crackle with divine light for a moment before he composes himself. “You beast!”

The words are accompanied by another shove, and a smack to the hind quarters that lands with a thud but no reaction. After a long period of attempted coaxing, more shoving, getting a running start behind his pushes, and throwing the entirety of his weight at the cow until his bare feet are digging into the ground, Aziraphale has broken a sweat and the cow has barely budged.

“I’ve only ever liked your kind one way, my dear. With gravy.”

He feels a little bad, after the words leave his mouth and the large brown eyes look up at him as the cow continues to chew the head of a tulip. He would never harm a creature of the Almighty, certainly not on purpose. But this was beyond the pale. This was unacceptable. This was Crowley’s garden and this cow was blatantly trespassing. Aziraphale also considers the fact that even if he does manage to coax it away, he’s no idea what to do with it after. How had it even gotten in here, past the lovely wooden fence painted a shade of chestnut that was nestled neatly between a row of hedges. Cows didn’t just unlatch gates. And they were hardly lost dogs, coming to the door complete with a collar and a tag and a phone number to call. Aziraphale blinks, and then freezes.

He promptly feels incredibly stupid for not considering it beforehand.

The cow turns it’s head and Aziraphale sees the tiny, pink tag attached to its ear, with the logo and name of where this particular cow had wandered in from.

Aziraphale sees the tag and frowns, feeling a dark stirring in his chest.

Across the road is a lovely elderly woman named Violet, who at one point owned a bookshop in Wales. She and her husband had come to the South Downs ten years ago when their only daughter had taken ill, just to look after their grandson, and then they had never left. Violet knows the life story of every person in the town, as she is an incredibly easy woman to talk to. Even Aziraphale found himself indulging her on afternoons when she came over, looking for a spot of sugar for her tea and they sat together and made idle conversation. The official backstory he and Crowley shared was that they were partners who had purchased the cottage for extended holidays between months in London. She encourages his stories with soft hums and quiet gasps, patting his hand and smiling deviously.

Because of his companionship with Violet, Aziraphale knows that Edith Fritz’s husband has a younger sister whose second husband has a friend who works at the exact dairy this cow is from. The dairy that isn’t incredibly far from here, all things considered, but far too far for a cow to mosey it’s own way over.

It’s a plot.

“Angel, please, I’m not even mad about it anymore just come inside.”

Crowley is in the doorway, clearly still mad about it by the way he hisses at the cow as he stalks past on his way to stand in front of Aziraphale. Aziraphale, who had been slightly put out by the cow before, is now practically teeming with rage. A plot. A dastardly plot to sabotage this garden. Crowley’s garden.

“Angel... angel you’re glowing a little.”

“Am I?”

The voice that comes out is slightly different than his own, reverberating in the air in a way that makes the cow startle and moo, deep and concerned. Aziraphale can feel the skin of his arms prickling, the taste of ozone sharp on his tongue. The daffodils bloom again, shooting up into the sky as large and butter-yellow as they had been before. Tulips blooms in the garden, surrounding the lone cow in a haze of multi coloured petals. Crowley grabs Aziraphale’s arm and draws him quickly towards the house, slamming the door and rounding on him with wide eyes behind dark glasses.

“We can’t miracle a bloody cow out of existence but you can pull that in the front garden on a Sunday!?” he hisses.

Aziraphale blinks, feeling the sharp sucking of power being drawn from the air before a wash of calm overcomes him.

“Oh. Oh dear, do you suppose anyone noticed?”

Crowley throws his arms in the air, “I don’t know! I wasn’t exactly concerned about the neighbours when there was a damned bovine-” he stops mid sentence and frowns out the window, turning on his heel to open the front door and stick his head out.

“Ah... well, seems you solved the problem.”

The cow has disappeared out the front gate, which is now swinging gently on it’s hinges. Their front yard is quiet. The daffodils look spectacular. Nobody had seen the little spectacle. How miraculous.

Aziraphale smiles.

“No. No don’t smile at me, I was doing this without intervention, don’t you remember?”

“Well, my dear, you were the only one playing fair,”

He explains the situation to Crowley, who sighs.

“I don’t suppose you have proof, do you? That it was her who let that thing in?”

Aziraphale purses his lips and snaps his fingers.

From several houses down, someone screams.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley’s voice is low and tries so hard to be disappointed, but Aziraphale can hear the lilt of a smile, “What did you do?”

“A ‘return to sender’ miracle, as it were” Aziraphale replies primly, “Seems Edith Fritz suddenly found it in her front garden, given the screaming. I do hope the poor thing finds its way back to the dairy, it’s had a rough morning. I was quite rude to it.”

Crowley blinks and stays silent for a long time, so long that Aziraphale wonders idly if perhaps he broke the demon, just slightly. Eventually, he seems to come back online and smiles, dipping his head down to rest on Aziraphale’s shoulder where he begins to laugh.

Aziraphale likes the sound. He laughs too.

He hears all about the incident from Violet the next week, when she pops by with a homemade date loaf that she slathers in thick butter- fresh from the local dairy. Aziraphale smiles around the rim of his teacup as he watches Crowley in the garden, tending to the plants with his usual fervour. The garden contest begins next week. Crowley wants everything to be perfect.

“-she insists it just appeared, but all of us in the knitting club think she might’ve been into a touch of the sherry the night previous. Cows don’t just appear, honestly. She says it trampled half her garden before anyone could wrangle it. She’s had to pull out of the competition, but I heard from Joseph down the street that the judges found out she’s been dabbling in all kinds of unsavoury things with the other competitors. Sabotage.” she whispers conspiratorially, adding a wink for good measure, “She might even need to leave town if the gossip keeps up.”

“Oh, how unfortunate,” Aziraphale drawls, catching the raised eyebrow he gets from Violet and arranging his face into something that he hopes looks sympathetic.

Crowley wins the garden award, of course. He stands beside his plants with a wide smile and accepts the small plaque, engraved with “Anthony J Crowley- Best Garden”. Afterwards, when the photographs are taken and the judges have left, and Aziraphale has accepted no less than four congratulatory pies from people who have lost to Edith Fritz before, Crowley pulls Aziraphale out into the garden and fidgets with something behind his back.

“Crowley?”

Crowley reveals a garden stake in the shape of a large, fat, dairy cow. And then another, a crude human rendition of an angel, complete with rippling muscles and cascading hair that looks as though it belongs on the cover of a romance novel. He stakes them down into the daffodil bed, arranging them so the cow looks as though it is cowering under the angel’s body, the smug smirk never leaving his face as he blinks ever so innocently at Aziraphale.

“Just in case any other cows decide they want to come in here,” he explains, “They need to remember who’s boss.”

“...you’re a fiend.”

“You love it.”

Aziraphale looks at the staked angel, unable to stop the smile that begins to creep over his face. The whole thing was rather ridiculous.

“Perhaps I like it a little,” he concedes.

Crowley smiles.

#good omens #good omens fic #anthony j crowley #aziraphale #its crack #so much crack #i'm so sorry

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svft2jae · 5 years

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‘icy secret‘;

➵ genre: fluffy fluff, i guess-

➵ pairing: ice prince! jaemin x knight! reader.

➵ warnings: none, just probably a bad writing sorryhbfvbgj

summary: “wherein y/n still struggles on denying the heart inside to burn through the breastplate.”

➵ songs rec.: ice queen - baekhyun ; moonlight - wavycake feat. navy, nathania.

[5:19 PM]

tiny snowflakes touch the fresh ground through your walk besides captain of guard! jeno with the more you get closer to the castle, both of you coming back together exhausted from your daily training, in the time he so called as "when afternoon waves goodbye". you kept your footsteps by his side steadily marching, just as you tried your best all the time to pay attention to what he was saying, about things that made him glad in today's exercises and fight simulations with the knights, but it was barely impossible for you to control your mind which kept on flying away, filled with thoughts of the prince — about yesterday when he sneaked in all disguised through your window at the dorms, for the fourth time this month, with his big white cloak full of gold details and his breathtaking, dazzling smile. you remember about his eyes just like the luck of hot chocolate and hazelnut in the winter, in contrast to his long, icy lashes hitting the snowy white skin, as inviting as his husky but soft like vanilla petals voice, calling you to go out with him on another adventure to the other side of the river which bordered the castle area. this time on the pretext of wanting to see the newly arrived auroras with what he claimed to be a "truly competent" one to protect him.

— at first you refused, saying that even if you were there to accompany him whenever he wanted, you were afraid of it ending up like the last time when you two almost got caught. but it didn't take long for him to convince you with his sweet requests and large hands covered by gloves holding yours, nervousness mingling with sweat between your fingers by the way he squeezed them all the time unwillingly to let go. soon you were already running outside tripping a little as he guided you extremely excited on the secret path you two always went for and just before you think both of you were already under the auroras, surrounded by the beauty of them. "how... beautiful." you let out, looking around completely amused, trying to even touch some of the dancing lights passing by, but stopped embarrassed as soon as you realize the prince's wide pearly smile, who somehow was trying to capture the colored rays in a glass but had stopped to watch you, his extremely fluffy white-blond hair just like sunbeams hovering over his forehead, innumerous fanciful ideas coming to meet him under it. “did you know you can get on a higher beauty level than theirs? i bet they must be jealous now.” he whispered playfully, cold air coming out from his rosy lips, chuckling while only a stutter sound came out of you in response, heat all up your cheeks at once. "i want to show you something. come with me.” you followed him, wondering why he went behind a rock where there was nothing but some pieces of grass with flowers and another part of the river, even more so when he just stood still and began to take off his gloves, asking you to hold the crystalline pot with auroras. “this is my secret, which will as well be ours, ok? everyone in the castle already knows but, i want you to keep it for me too.” you nodded vehemently although not having any clue of what it could be, promising loyalty to the overflowing gaze deep into yours. suddenly you saw the prince's hands get both filled with brilliant designs going up to his nails as soon as they got exposed, his skin had turned translucent as ice and snow smoke came out of it, all while your jaw simply was left dropped with the sight, eyes widened in pure wonder as you watched him shocked. the prince then made a cold breeze which took the pot from your hands and blew your hair lightly, as if stroking it and slowly smiled a little awkwardly when he noticed your stunned, practically speechless expression at what you saw, and without delaying asked what you thought of it, a small hint of fear in his tone for some possible rejection. "it's, it's... simply wonderful... just like fairytale- how, how do you-??" you stuttered, earning another soft giggle from the prince who got to feel relieved seeing the way you wanted to touch his hands, curious. “i don't know, i guess i was just born like this. but yeah i also think it's nice, like a super power. do you wanna see what it can do?” he said excitedly, a certain mischief taking over his tone, what immediately made you want to decline the offer, but as curiosity consumed your heart you accepted smiling. then just before you knew it you two already had two huge flake-decorated ice forts, snow angels on the floor, sculptures and handmade giant slides, both of you laughing loudly running after each other with countless snowballs, him of course with his own. so far you can't forget how much fun you had that afternoon, less even it’d be like that, one more time next to the prince — just while he was showing you some things he could do with his special ability, such as when he froze temporarily a part of the river to teach you how to skate, when he made ice arrows for target shooting or the high ladder across the oak to see more of the pink-tinted horizon, you also played, jumped, ran a lot, and even fell like two children in their blooming childhood, without caring a single bit about the world around. yet you also couldn't forget the way he looked at you that kept on making your heart flutter so much, the downy touch of his cold fingers when he complied your request to draw some flakes on your face, or especially when you were both already tired and he called you to sit beside one of the forts, saying he wanted to show you one more thing. “can you give me your hand?” he asked extending his own, holding your hand by its back when you gave it. you watched him carefully as he began to draw lines on your palm with his thumbs, making a small snowflake in the shape of what looked like a heart. your eyes kept watching every move of his until you couldn't help but get them widened to see him out of sudden take the small form by your hand and kiss it, but before you said anything you noticed it made the little thing shine and levitate over your palm, just like a star. “woah- i, i can't believe you can do that too!” you exclaimed with a giant smile taking over your lips, the prince as well grinning all happy as he saw you trying to play with his creation. "of course! where do you think all the decoration in the palace comes from, hm?” he smiled playfully again, you immediately looking at him surprised at what he had just said — so this is was how the castle always kept covered with really thin snow and absolutely stunning, delicate details and iced arts, monuments, chandeliers, flowers, and designs you always admired and thought they looked more like actually made by some millennial fairies than built by human hands, just like it was also why jeno sometimes complained about how his best friend from the royal court spent so many mornings on one of the castle's rooftops for no reason or explanation. again you looked at him speechless, disconcerted by how incredible he was, as if it wasn't already enough to be so brave, righteous, kind, exceptional in practically every combat and sword fight, a strong and exemplary prince and leader, also owner of a fantastic ability, besides being able to make your heart run countless marathons in the simplest actions, just as in that moment. “it's for you. i hope you’ll like it, and you’ll remember me every time you look at it. just as i do remember you every day.” he let out in such soothing words like an embrace. just in time you turned your gaze back to him, again not believing what you had just heard, but before anything you’d do in response he sighed lightly and leaned in to you, touching his velvety lips on your cheek in a kiss which lingered a little until he pulled away, sighing again as soon as your eyes met, asteroids and comets crashing into the vast skies that were his pupils. —

almost immediately as you bring your fingers to the spot on your cheek he touched you feel it flush, your pulse barely to explode just by thinking of the simple but tender contact. quietly you let out a deep breath while you put your hand in the pocket of your red tunic underneath the breastplate to remove the glowing heart-shaped gift, your thumb a little shaky holding the object that didn't get out of your hands through the entire sleepless night before yesterday, passed with just the image of the graceful boy in your mind. “y/n? planet earth calling y/n?” you hear jeno's voice abruptly bring you back to reality, worry in his expression until you shove the small form back to your pocket and turn your face to him, eyes wide as you get startled, making him let out a sigh of relief. “you know, i think you should stop reading about astronomy for a while y/n, it's already the millionth time this month you go out of orbit.” he laughs amusedly, showing up his so characteristic, gorgeous eyesmile. you look at your best friend still bewildered, but soon smile at his silly joke, reaching your hand out to ruffle his golden hair based with an undercut. “you little goofy- and you now turned into my control tower to bring me back all the time." both of you laughed at the same time, jeno even more when you started tickling him, running to the side to try to get away from you. "but yeah i'm sorry, i really didn't pay much attention... my head has been indeed full lately." “it's fine, i was just blabbering. i just wanted to understand what goes on in your head, seriously. you even look like jaemin staring at nothing and giggling alone." jeno laughs again, shaking his head in disbelief, not realizing you froze beside him when he mentions the prince's name, a wave of thoughts hitting you again and nervousness coming all up. "don't worry, it's nothing... i-it's just the training stuff, of this tough knight routine..." you try to build an answer, shaky words coming out. "i know, i know i understand you perfectly. and you know you can count on me whenever you want, that i'm always here with you, right? afterwards that's what friends are for." he said, a warm smile now taking over his face along to his hand going to rub your back, making you relax and smile back, comfort filling your chest. "thank you jeno. im always here for you too." you pat him on the back, adjusting his sword which was falling a little. "tomorrow on the way back home i'll buy you that fried fish stick you like so mu-“ "and as i once said and repeat y/n my buddy you're such a wonderful being, just tell me if ever there's someone bothering you and i‘ll come quickly to throw one right, one left, ha!" he exclaimed cheerfully, simulating a fight with his silver sword giving kicks and punchs in the air at an invisible enemy as you laugh nonstop watching him, jeno doing just so. “y/n! jeno! thank god i found you two! i, i need help! arf..." right in the time you and jeno get interrupted hearing someone call out loud, almost breathless. soon you see royal advisor! renjun coming close as if he had just run a marathon, so both of you immediately go to hold him by his hands so he wouldn't get dizzy, worried about what could be happening. “what happened, renjun?! are you ok? where‘s the prince? wait, take a deep breath-" “i, i'm ok, it's all fine, it‘s just that, just... aH no, no nothing's fine! he ran away! he ran away again! just because the lord was going to bring the new clothing for tomorrow's ceremony, aHh but when i catch him-" you try to calm renjun down while he fists and simulates punches, jeno already going back to laugh nonstop just by imagining the kind of situation familiar enough going on, having in mind some of the prince's typical tricks. “no need to explain anything anymore, i already got it- ahh jaemin i swear to god-" “but, but what‘s going on?? i can't understand anything." you ask. “don‘t worry y/n it's nothing, just another episode of the prince giving daily headache to his royal adviser.” jeno tries to contain his laughter, hugging renjun by the side who was now much calmer yet still a little upset. “it‘s just that, he always does this, y/n- he always runs away when it‘s time to choose the linen and colored pieces for any upcoming special occasions, he says he doesn't like them because they're just ridiculous and that he doesn't need them, that he feels so much better in his usual weekly clothes he‘s always wearing to do practically everything and that always comes up with some smears of whatever possible on it, and simply goes like this every time right in front of the ancients council! then there always lasts for me the noble women's commentaries, about me not teaching him things right so this is why he does what he wants- aHh but this time i can‘t admit it! that's why i was looking for you two everywhere so i'd ask you to help me find him and bring him back." renjun explained sounding kinda sulky, jeno going forward to squeeze his cheek lightly and you smile nodding with your head to sign to him you did understand everything, not even much surprised since it all just fits the prince so much. “alright then, let‘s look in separate parts. y/n goes to the gardens at the west, renjun goes to the surroundings of the castle and to the adjoining areas at the east, and i go to the chambers, galleries, throne centre and all of the rooms where he usually goes. if we don't find him after all we shall go to the city entrance and meet there to enter together, ok? let's go, before our injunnie start malfunctioning." jeno explained his plan, all of you saluting like a real team as he went for renjun's neck and ruffled his hair, the shorter brown haired boy complaining in his own adorable way while you giggle to yourself watching them walk to the opposite direction, a high blow of confidence raising up your chest. you adjust your belt and tighten your knee pads, then getting ready to stick a step forward filled with attitude when suddenly two gloved hands cover your eyes, causing your shoulders to fall along to all your courage and nervousness take over. "but who-" "guess who it is." you feel your heart begin to pound crazily again at the sound of that voice, air hitching in your throat feeling how close it was to your ears. "p-prince?" almost at the same time he sighs a little and gently removes his hands from your eyes, going in front to look at you, his long, flavescent cloak moving in the process. "hey... i remember i've said you don't have to call me like that. i just want you to call me by jaemin." he did a light frown and pouted cutely as he played with your hands, what makes your stomach flutter immediately. "a-ah yes... pardon me your highne- i mean, j-jaemin" you stutter, seeing his face soon lighting up again, his charming smile shows almost like a cupid's arrow ready to hit. "you know, if you want you can also call me by jae, or nana. it'd make me really happy too- oh and please come with me, there's something i really wanna show you." he said, pulling you by your hands again, just as excited as in that day. "what- wait!" you try to process his words but as always before you could ever do anything you were already running beside him, letting the prince once more guide you, now on a new route apparently to the outer staircases of the palace. "renjun, jeno and i were looking for you! you shouldn't have run away, what are you going to say to him now? you, you have a ceremony tomorrow and he's afraid thinking of how you're going to look there." you said apprehensively, hearing him chuckle like a carefree young boy in response, giving your hand a little squeeze as you continued to go through the stairs steps. "don't worry about that it's all ok, i'm fine the way i do everything, renjun just worries too much but im sure he'll understand it soon. i've told him several times how important it is to not to pay attention to people's comments all the time and just be yourself. he knows if it weren't for that he'd probably still have his biological restoration ability inactive till now." he talked through both of your paces slowed down by the weariness of the stairs, your own mouth now agape at what he had just told. “renjun can… heal?!” you let out, jaemin nodding with another smile, melted with the innocent way you asked. "yes. actually it was because of him my lungs didn't end up literally frozen once in my childhood... we owe each other's lives in fact, so that's why for our friendship too, i can never leave his side. just like i can’t from yours..." you feel comfort in your chest again as you listen to him until the material inside it stops for a second when you realize his last sentence, and you could swear you've clearly seen reddish hues blooming in the prince's so niveous face when he looked away at the same time he said it. later on he hastened his pace a little to where the stairway led, then out of stopped, saying you were already in the exact place, which was nothing more than the inaccessible rooftop at one of the farthest points of the castle, as in the moment you set your foot there you couldn't help but feel just the same way of when you came close to the auroras at that day, completely enchanted. “oh my… god.” you exclaimed, grinning widely as your eyes light up with fascination seeing each of the beautiful works around you — paintings, small sculptures, handcrafts, various forms, many colored by auroras and several other shining ones like the one he gave you, everything made of snow and ice, organized like real stars in a sky studio. "remember when i said that thing, about the palace's decoration? i was thinking and, wanted you to know the place where i do what i like the most on earth, since you showed me the knights' training camp before..." he said hiding his hands in his pocket, you watching and trying to touch the pieces one by one, the prince's frosted lashes yet only focused on your reactions he cherished so much. "i think i'm in heaven." you take one of the little forms in the shape of a levitating cotton cloud in your hand and look at him smiling joyfully, his eyes sparkling perhaps as much as yours when he looks at you like you were so precious as a rare gem, what made you blush violently in the second you noticed it. he then smiles disconcertingly at you, some snowflakes coming out of his mouth while he coughs a little and covers it with his hand trying to hide his already reddened face again, looking to the side at something that caught his attention. "there's one more thing- you need to see." he exclaimed quickly, pulling you with him to another part ahead where you came across a wide view of the whole kingdom covered by the warm shades of the sunset magically coloring the horizon, snow falling like invisible crystals over the forests and around the city. a calm wind stirs your hair when one more sigh escapes you, the prince slowly going to sit on an iced marble support and guiding you to take place right by his side, all while you couldn't take your eyes off the scene before your eyes. "it's amazing, isn't it... i've been trying to reproduce some of these colors since i‘ve found this place." his voice echoes softly, for a minute you look at him and notice what appeared to be a hanging painting beside him with lots of orange and pinkish sketches, every one of them too delicate and well made. "but tell me, how do you feel now? i, hope you're not upset because i brought you here, instead of letting you do your job... anytime you want we can go back and meet jeno and renjun." you watch him kick his feet against the marble and lower his head a few times, as if he was somehow ashamed. "no i, i'm happy. all of this is just so incredible, like a dream. now i understand why you spend so much time here... oh and the boys- they won't mind too much, let‘s just not stay too long and go soon." you giggled jokingly making him smile too, the prince's expression filling up with joy again. "if you're happy then i am too..." suddenly he approached you making your heart pound to almost jump out of your mouth and rested his chin comfortably on your shoulder, doing what seemed like nuzzling into it as his arms come to wrap around you gently as if asking for permission. you felt the extremely soft, cold skin of his cheek brush agaisnt your warm one at the crook of your neck, silky blond strands also caress your face and the prince takes a deep breath, his hug tightening slightly. "thank you for trusting me, for always being with me. you don't know how much it means..." he says almost like a hesitant whisper and for some reason you can hear a bit of his loud heartbeats, your stomach fluttering at the same time jaemin pulled away to look at you, just as loving as you swore you never saw anything in your life. “you deserve everything, y/n…” your chest burns with the prince's cozy and so sincere words as well as his deep eyes and the touch of his cold fingers on your hot face once more but simultaneously to your flourishing feelings a hint of desperation runs through your head, causing you to no longer watch your own words. “b-but, majesty… i don't—” you go away a little but stop when you realize what you just called him, seeing his brows frowning and him sighing deeply with what he heard, looking a little disappointed. some few seconds of silence take over until you decide to say something, but jaemin breaks it up first, turning his face back to you already with a small smile at the corners of his lips. "you know what? from now on every time you call me like that i'll kiss you. sure now you'll stop.” the prince still tries to contain his smile but fails right after seeing your wide eyes and cheeks just like he thought of as two of the elegant roses from the royal garden and the rare, hard to get red auroras. “you look so cute when you blush… it's unbelievable.” jaemin just lets himself smile, captivating and gracious like a mirage, reminding you of when he first jumped into your window taking off the hood of his cloak from his forehead to let you see who he was — right in time you quickly put the back of your hand in front of your face, but a boost of courage rises to the flush coloring your ears and you remove it, resting it on your knee. “and you're just so beautiful… outside and inside… everything about you, everything you do or create is. you're just, loving… and although we're so different, my heart always feels so warm when i'm with you.” silence settles in for a while as you let out the last word, lowering your head for a moment before you look at him again. now sweat forms through your palms when you notice the prince's smile fading, replaced instead with his lips getting slightly parted and his chocolatey irises as bright as they never were locked in only you, untold feelings screaming in his chest every second thoughts of you and your words filled his head more and more. "that was, so sweet i could kiss you right now..." he says almost like a whisper, breath fastening little by little just like yours right when you heard him. “p-prince-” you let out again without noticing, your nervousness speaking louder again as your eyes widen in disbelief at what you have just done, but jaemin only smiles tenderly when he realizes your mistake, internally grateful to his soul for it. but before you could do anything, once more, the prince had already approached enough so his puffy yet gelid nose could touch yours, his large gloved hand comes to hold yours and your heart seems to burn away feeling how close he was, however you can't help but come up with any reaction except to just lower all your guards to the one that since the start has been filling your dreams. “i warned you… now suffer the consequences.” you heard him say out like in a playful tone for a moment, his other hand going to tickle the red fabric part under your breastplate, causing you to instantly laugh out of control along to him, both having fun at the same time you try to stop him, until all out of sudden he meets your foreheads and with his right hand touches your face as if caressing it, another beat skipped out of you when your eyes meet up again. “i'm in love with you y/n. since when i first met you… i don't know how to be without you anymore.” he confesses softly, catching every nerve in your body by surprise like time just seemed to stop with the sound of his husky voice and his small confession in your ears. but almost in the blink of an eye the prince leaned in and closed the space between you two, his delicate rosy lips, how you've always seen them, now pressed gently on yours, sealed in a kiss so sweet, and so genuine like your true yet hidden feelings for each other. and albeit your nervousness always came for the fact that yes, you two were indeed like fire and ice — you've been always afraid of the distance he had from you high like a castle, and the danger of what could happen if you two got too close — now you could do nothing but cast your burning heart in place, with him.

then as your eyes shut tightly and your sweating, shaking hand goes to cup jaemin's cheek, without you noticing the spot warms up with your touch and it turns red, making the prince feel like losing his breath for a second and open his lips a bit more to deepen the kiss, nibbling softly into your own — after all through it had never been iced, his heart was always there melting, and getting tinted by you, each by each day he got to jump your dorm's window.

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jimlingss · 5 years

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Jungle Park [7]

Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 7.5 OR Chapter 8

➜ Words: 7.3k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

Marriage seems to be the ultimate goal for many. And she can’t blame those who want it. At least when she constantly faces the most beautiful side of love and matrimony, bouquets of red roses and yellow tulips, long trains of wedding dresses, the tulle of the veil, the glowing smile of both bride and groom radiating happiness. Yes. Weddings were undoubtedly gorgeous. “And here...a song dedicated to these love birds.” The band behind her is already beginning and all the guests clap. It’s a pretty easy gig when she can sprout all the cheesiest nonsense and bullshit she wants and they eat it from the palm of her hand. “May their love be everlasting as the stars.” The woman with the sleek, long, black hair stands at the stage. She parts her lips and sings the first note, the melodic song filling the venue as the bride and groom begin their first dance. It’s another sickening love song of the most delusional lyrics, but she doesn’t care much. By the looks of people’s faces, they’re loving every second of it. When the song ends and she belts the last note out, microphone pressed to her lips, the audience erupts into claps with melted expressions. “That was amazing. You have a really beautiful voice,” the best man says as he approaches and the band continues playing some background music, others joining the dance floor. “Thanks.” She sets down the mic and climbs off the stage. “I’d like to say I try.” He trails after her to the side. “And you’re friends with the bride…?” “Oh no.” She uncaps a bottle of water and takes a sip, quenching her throat. “I’m just a hired wedding singer.” “You’re a professional then?” He grins and it’s obvious he’s trying to flirt with her through praise. She’s flattered, but largely unaffected. “One day, maybe I’ll be.” Her arm extends straight out and the best man shakes her hand with a firm grip. “My name is Jung Sowon.” “Nice to meet you, Sowon. My name is Sejin.” He smiles and lets go, slipping his hands into his black, dress pants pockets. He kicks the grass once and glances up. “I don’t know if this is okay, but I was wondering if I could get your number. I’d love to hear your lovely voice again.” “Well, I don’t know about my number, but I can give you a number.” She reaches inside her blazer pocket and pulls out a rectangular piece of white card stock and hands it to him. Sejin takes the card and frowns, reading the top. “Jung and Park….?” “That’s my brother’s law firm.” She beams brightly like a ball of sunshine. “He’s a divorce lawyer. Keep it. You might never know when it might come in handy.” The man is mortified, jaw slack as the card is still held in his hands and he watches the woman saunter away. When the band is on break, she also hands out the business cards like they’re flyers. “Please check out this law firm. Jung Hoseok does matters of divorce. He’s a really good lawyer.” She bows at the wedding guests and hand them the card as well. Their eyes are always wide, mouths dropping open. She even leaves them on people’s plates and on the tables like they’re wedding favours. “Hello, please take this. Jung Hoseok is a fantastic divorce lawyer.” Hey...it’s free advertisement. Might as well. As Sowon weaves between white round tables, a kid accidentally collides into her, face planting right into her legs. The little girl giggles and stares up, pretty hair decorated with a flower headband, pink dress wrinkled from running around — an angel on the outside and a parent’s nightmare on the inside. “Oops, sorry!” The older woman squats down with a smile, meeting her eyes at the same level. “It’s okay. I actually have a present for you.” She qurisk her head to the side, apples of her cheeks reddening from the cool breeze. “What is it?” “This.” She hands her the rectangular card and the child’s brows knit together while her cute lips pout. “This is really important. Give it to your parents, okay? It might help them one day.” “Okay!” She grins and goes running off. The wedding singer eventually strolls over to the buffet line and grabs free plates of food without anyone really noticing. She sings a handful more songs afterwards, most being the same old cliché love songs. Things couldn’t get easier or better than this. And after the party’s over, she bids goodbye to the band and packs up her stuff. At home, Sowon flops on the bed. Her body molds against the mattress, tired and aching bones she didn’t remember having ten years ago after running miles. She’s trying to muster energy to take a shower that’ll wash away the grime on her skin. But before she can launch herself on her feet again, her phone rings beside her head. It rings and rings and her arm reaches over, grabbing the mobile device. She smiles while reading the caller ID and picks up without another second to spare. “Well, well, well, looks like my little brother finally decided to give his poor, older sister a call. How long has it been, brat?” “Stop handing out my business card.” “Oh.” Her tone raises up in pitch from excitement. “Did you get more clients already, Seok?” “No!” Hoseok whines on the other line and she grins, practically able to hear his pout. “Angry calls are what I’m getting.” “They’re angry now, but one day, they’ll call and ask for help. I guarantee it.” “Stop.” He channels his firm voice despite knowing it’s futile. Much to Hoseok’s dismay, any time he’s shown his family his professional side, they cooed at him. Whenever he tried to command his sister, the next second he was being held in a choke hold, and threatening to sue did nothing but gain laughter from the maniac of a witch. Still, he likes to try. “I don’t like getting angry calls or voicemails or spam. Stop giving out my divorce business cards at weddings, you sick freak.” “Can’t I just boast about you?” She rolls around in the covers of her bed. “I’m so proud of my hot shot baby brother who thinks he’s too good for everyone else.” There’s a pause. “I’m begging you.” “We’ll see.” // At the rate he’s going, Hoseok wouldn’t be surprised if his head of hair will all turn gray by age thirty six. Maybe he’ll even start balding. It’s easy to misunderstand that he’s feeling this stressed since he’s constantly drowning in work. But that’s isn’t the case at all. Rather, Hoseok jumps into the ocean of work with open arms. He loves what he does and he thrives in the workplace. In his free time, he works and at work, he works twice as hard. He just loves the feeling of accomplishing his professional goals, of keeping busy, of being able to sleep at night knowing he didn't waste his time and that he did something useful for his future. Rather, Hoseok’s losing all his hair because of the women in his life. It would be nicer if they were romantical problems — if he had issues with his love life, significant others, potential lovers or partners. In that way, people would understand him and he’d be able to consult someone with more ease. But the women of his life include: his mother, his sister, the receptionists, Seulgi who’s a paralegal, Sunyi and Naul who are lawyers of his firm, and you. And each and every one of these people are handfuls. “In light of some recent issues in the office, I think it would be important to discuss sexual harassment in the workplace.” You’re standing up stiffly in front of the conference room, conducting your first ever seminar. A slideshow runs behind you, remote in your right hand and thick binder held in your left arm. If it weren’t for the way Inyoung is smiling at you, appreciating your efforts to protect the people in the firm and going this far to address the issues, you would be slick with sweat right now. Everyone is staring at you, their gazes pinpointed on your face. More importantly, Hoseok’s seat is the farthest, but his stare is the most intense. He looks at you as if you murdered his entire family and he’s seething and ready to enact revenge at your weakest moments. You know that it’s just his concentrated face, but it’s still intimidating and scary. But you never let him nor any of the uncertain thoughts in your head hinder your plans. You clear your throat, deciding to start right away. For now, it seems like everyone’s relatively engaged. You don’t want to drone on and on and make them bored. “What is sexual harassment?” You click the remote and the slideshow begins, going to the next slide where there’s some flashing text that draws people’s attention. “It’s any unwanted sexual advances or obscene remarks, including any comments or inappropriate touching, in the workplace.” The slide changes. For the most part it seems pretty straightforward, but you’re perfectly aware that the boundaries can become murky and it can become hard to tell what is or isn’t sexual harassment. “Let’s go over some examples…” “Derogatory language would be seen as sexual harassment. Even something as suggestive notes or emails. Invading personal space, any unnecessary physical contacts, demanding hugs are also all examples. Another—” A hand shoots up in the cluster of employees and your mouth shuts. “Alright, we have questions already. Yes?” Namjoon lowers his hand. “What if it’s consensual?” It’s a genuine inquiry. He’s not trying to give you a hard time. The paralegal’s face remains impassive and his head slightly tilts in curiosity. “It’s still inappropriate for the workplace. We wouldn’t condone it. Everyone should remain professional in this environment.” You nod and he does too, satisfied with your answer. “Speaking of which, inappropriate staring is also considered—….yes, Taehyung?” The caramel-haired lawyer smiles and explains, “Sometimes my mind goes on a trip and it looks like I’m staring when I’m not.” “Uh...well, as long as you don’t have the intention, it should be fine. But try your best to not let that happen, okay?” You continue after the man flashes a thumbs up, “No one should be sharing inappropriate pictures either. Please don’t share nudes in the office.” Seulgi looks over at Seokjin with a raised eyebrow and you don’t even want to know at this point. You click the remote, changing the slide again.“Sexual jokes are also looked down upon—” Yoongi raises his hand this time and then he crosses his arms. “Does that include ‘that’s what she said?” Sunyi rolls her eyes to the back of her skull and you can practically hear the storm of complaints she’ll make to you and the documents you’ll have to fill out. “....yes. Moving on, bragging about sexual endeavours is also improper behaviour. Everyone is here to work, not talk about their personal lives or what they did on the weekend.” Suddenly, Lisa coughs loudly like she’s choking a chicken bone. The noisy interruption gathers the attention of the room and she eyes Taehyung in particular who remains oblivious, perhaps on purpose. You continue quickly without prying or publicly humiliating anyone, “Basically if you’re wondering if an action is sexual harassment or not, just ask yourself ‘would I do this in front of my grandma?” It’s easy enough to understand and you even gain a few amused smiles around the room. “It’s a good rule of thumb for a lot of things. Would you talk badly about someone in front of your grandma? Would you talk about your sex life in front of your grandma? Would you send nudes in front of your grandma? Would you make sexual remarks in front of your grandma? The answer is no, right?” Your confidence boosts at the bubble of laughter that echoes throughout the group. “Our firm has a strict policy on sexual harassment. We take it very seriously in order to protect everyone and create a safe environment. If you ever feel unsafe, threatened, or uncomfortable, come talk to me, Jimin or Hoseok at any time. There will be absolutely no tolerance for this sort of thing.” The slide changes again. “And just putting it out there, if there are any office romances, then you need to file with HR. All you need to do is fill out a form and sign. It’s just for the firm to be aware. We are legally obligated to protect every employee here from sexual harassment and hostile work environments.” After a few more minutes of going over more details and getting the group to watch an old video you found on the internet that explains and reenacts different scenarios, you flicker the conference room lights back on and stand in front, preparing to close the seminar up. “Does anyone have any questions?” “How about after work?” Jungkook’s voice is soft and shy, and you’re happy that he’s actively participating. “Do these rules apply?” “....No,” you answer after thinking carefully. Jimin seems to have no problem with your answer, but you can’t exactly tell with Hoseok when he’s still half-staring, half-glaring at you. “You’re free to do whatever you want after work, but please be five hundred meters away from this firm. Don’t do anything on company property.” Seokjin raises his hand and speaks without being called upon, “So we can’t get it on in this office?” There’s a few disgusted looks that pass around, mostly from Dahyun and Inyoung who look like they’ve bitten into a sour lemon. On the other hand, Seulgi and Namjoon don’t look too unfazed with his particular inquiry. You can only sigh. “Under no circumstance should you ever engage in any sexual acts inside this office.” Taehyung’s palm lifts, surprisingly timid. “What happens if you’ve already broken that rule?” “Ew, gross!” Seulgi’s expression blanches and even Yoongi’s brow lifts, skeptical expression marring his blankness. Jimin scoffs with a laugh and Hoseok groans, rubbing his temples. “You’re all a bunch of wild animals,” Naul waves him off and looks away. “Look it wasn’t my fault!” Taehyung tries to defend, feeling like he was somehow put on trial and is at the stand in front of his accusatory colleagues. “I met her at a bar and we got wasted and I was being responsible by not driving! And the office was only a block away, so I decided why not!” “Oh my god!” Sunyi is screeching and cups her hands over her ears like she can block out the monstrosities she’s hearing. “Oh my god, oh my god.” “Why are you treating me all like this!” He laughs in disbelief. “I cleaned up the desk after and I personally bought that carpet cleaning solution and I scrubbed the carpets for like an hour—” “Too much information, dude!” Namjoon interrupts with a loud voice. “We don’t want to know!” “Oh my god!” Yoongi suddenly bolts up from his seat and turns to the fellow lawyer. His arm extends and his hand quivers as he points to Taehyung’s face, features marred with complete horror. “Is that why my office smelled like that for an entire week?!” Sunyi bursts out in hysterical laughter. She has to physically grab her stomach as she leans over with giggles streaming infectiously out of her throat. The lawyer is no longer disturbed listening to Taehyung’s sexual endeavors in the office, instead savouring the look on Min Yoongi’s face. “Serves you right! Get a taste of that, Min.” Suddenly, Taehyung turns to her. He becomes serious, all traces of humour and mischief escaping from him. Then, her smile falls, and she slowly shakes her head. “No…” The disbelief quickly becomes fear. “No...no, you...didn’t….you...wouldn’t…” “That stain on your couch—” His timbre is low and vibrates. “—it wasn’t ketchup.” “Gross! Gross! I can’t believe you would do that in my office! That’s where I work and eat and—! Oh my god, I sleep on that couch sometimes, Taehyung! What’s wrong with you, freak?!” “Serves you right,” Yoongi mocks her back in a whisper. Taehyung leans back in his seat and scans the room with his sharp eyes. “You’re making such a big deal out of this like you haven’t done it yourselves when I know for a fact that you have!” Dahyun looks away. Seulgi shifts uncomfortably. You don’t miss the way Sunyi glances at Yoongi for the shortest of seconds, the both of them gone quiet. But you get distracted when Lisa shouts, “We haven’t!” “Liar.” He turns to the oldest lawyer on the team, the middle aged woman who is sipping on her beverage and watching the gong show go down. “Come on, Naul. I know you’ve brought your husband here more than twice.” “I have a bedroom, thank you very much.” “Jin?” The man in question dodges. “My secrets will stay as secrets.” “Okay, fine.” Taehyung holds his hands up like he’s defeated. “Deny all you want, but I bet the only people who haven’t actually done anything in this office is Y/N and like…” Simultaneously, everyone turns around to the back of the room, looking at Hoseok. The lawyer is unimpressed, one leg thrown over the other. He looks like a strict judge at a singing competition, hair swept over his brow in a comma motion and in a fitted suit like he’s ready to be broadcasted on national television, but also giving no fucks with what’s being presented before him. “This meeting is over. I hope you all paid attention and learned something, because I’m going to test you all on it.” Jimin laughs when everyone becomes petrified and he steps in before mass hysteria can spread like wildfire. “He’s joking. There’s no test. But Hoseok’s right. This seminar has gotten a little off topic. It’s time to get back to work, but please take the topic of discussion seriously.” He continues, doing a beautiful job of wrapping things up, “Any inappropriate behaviour in this firm will not be tolerated by Hoseok nor I. If you have any further questions or concerns, please come talk to Y/N, Hoseok, or me. It’s best to clarify any confusion, so that everyone is on the same page. With that being said, can we give a round of applause to Y/N for doing so well?” People clap for you, the thundering applauses reverberating and you become sheepish under the attention. “It’s nothing, really. But thank you for listening to what I have to say.” One by one, employees trickle out of the room. They’re chatting with each other, returning back to your desks and catching up on some work. On his way out, Taehyung grins at you. “That was fun, Y/N.” You hold your sigh. “Well, I’m glad.” “Thank you,” Inyoung murmurs as she walks past, modest smile still placed on her lips. “No problem.” Jungkook smiles and the rest of them also put in their few compliments and words of appreciation. Jimin is one of the last people and he actually stops. “Good job.” “I was nervous,” you admit, remote off the laptop still in your sweaty hands. “Couldn’t tell.” He grins, eyes crinkled into half moons. “It was your first time conducting a meeting, so don’t beat yourself over it. You’ll get better and better as time goes by. Plus, if it weren’t for you, I would have to conduct this seminar myself, so I’m once again thankful for your existence, Y/N.” “It’s nothing.” Your eyes fall to your feet. “It’s my job.” “And you’re good at it.” But for some reason, you seek someone’s praise in particular. You’re thankful for everyone’s positive feedback and their encouraging remarks, but it never feels like quite enough. It’s like you thirst and ache to hear it from someone who is much tougher in nature, who is naturally a critic. Only when you hear from him will you truly be satisfied and you know you’re not being spoon-fed by stretched truths. So, like the pathetic loser that you are, you hang around. You walk slowly to your laptop, closing the presentation, disconnecting the remote. And when you steal a peek at the corner of the room, Hoseok’s still seated, sending off a text message. It’s excruciating how desperate you are and the way you linger. Jung Hoseok is the last to leave and when he notices you’re still here, his brow lifts, as if asking if you have something to say. “I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing that pops into your head and spills off your tongue without much warrant. “It got out of control towards the end there.” “No, it happens. You don’t need to apologize.” The both of you walk together, exiting and going down the hall. “You...got your car fixed?” “I did,” the lawyer muses and glances at his watch like he’s late to something. “The battery got drained like I thought it did.” “That’s good. It would suck if there was something wrong with the engine or the tires. Maintenance on cars can be really bothersome and expensive.” Lame. It’s so lame how you’re ranting about car maintenance. But you can’t help the disappointment that leaks into your voice and spills all over your face. You really liked having a friend to go home with. It made time go by faster. And you just hope that he can’t read the look on your face right now. You’re sure you’re not doing a very good job with hiding your emotions. “Hey, Y/N.” He looks away from his phone, from his watch, from the end of the hallway to your profile. “Hmm?” His voice is soft and gentle, a small smile that expands over his face. “You did well.” One word from him is all it takes. Like the idiot that you are, an even bigger smile overwhelms you. “Thanks.” // With the seminar complete and the staff handbook well on its way, you decide to take a longer lunch break, hanging out in the lobby of the building and chatting with the security guard. While you’re still working with developing friendships in the office, you’ve become good friends with the older guard. He reminds you of your late grandpa or when you were in elementary school and no one really wanted to hang out with you, so you became close to the class pet goldfish. You’re standing near the front entrance, sipping on coffee as the guard drinks the cup you bought for him and he tells you about his weekend. He chats about how his son came over for barbecue and his wife made this pineapple pasta dish that was very delicious. And you’re about to respond when you hear a muffled— “Y/N?” There’s a woman on the other side of the glass windows, having stopped walking in the middle of the sidewalk. She knocks once on the window to get your attention. Her hair is long and sleek, a midnight shade that matches the colour of her irises. Her eyes are wide like a deer in headlights, lashes standing straight up to the sky, sharp jaw dropped. She stares at you. You stare at her. And the girl bolts in her high heels towards the doors. “Do you know her?” The guard asks just to be sure, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. “Y-yeah….I do…” Your eyes are on the woman’s and you watch as she scrambles inside, taking wide strides towards you. You don’t even bid goodbye to the guard, taking steps to meet the female in the lobby. “Sowon?” Without letting a squeak slip or another word spoken, her arms open all at once and she embraces your frame, squeezing you tight like a teddy bear. “Oh my god! I missed you so much. Huhuhghgh.” She makes weird sounds as she restrains you with her arms like she’s trying to pick you up, lug you around, giving you a good spin, but she’s not strong enough to. You can’t help the laughter that bubbles up your throat. “I missed you too.” The older girl parts away and scans you up and down several times. “How are you? You look great!” “Thank you.” You’re a bit breathless, finding her presence and everything that’s happened in the span of two minutes overwhelming. “I’m good.” “What…” She shakes her head like she can’t believe you’re actually here in front of her. “What are you doing here?” “I work here now.” “No. Really?” “Really.” // The cafe is quaint in the middle of the afternoon on a workday. The sunlight washes through the glass into the room, painting the surroundings in warm hues. There’s not too many people around, few conversations from customers here and there, but the murmur of sounds are relaxing to your ears. After already having two coffees for the day, you decide on a blueberry pastry and Sowon gets some kind of latte drink. She sits across from you, still looking at you in awe while you remain a bit uncomfortable under her constant gawking. “I never thought I would see you again.” “That’s what I thought too.” “I’m just surprised.” She gives you a soft smile. “And I’m glad that you’re here.” There’s a slight pause and you fiddle with your fingers in your lap. “I heard Hoseok got into an accident.” “Did he tell you about it?” “Yeah.” You hesitate, aware that she’s watching you carefully and with mustered courage, you take a deep breath and sit straighter, looking her dead in the eyes. “I really, really like my job. I’m working as an HR manager in the firm. It’s really fun to help out and tend to all the issues inside the office. I’m enjoying it a lot…” “And Hoseok’s okay with that?” She holds the cup in her hand, sipping while her eyes are still above the rim, eyeing you carefully. “He’s the one who hired me,” you tell her. “We’re professional.” Sowon hums with another smile and puts down her cup on the table. “Understood,” she sing-songs. “I’m just glad you’re doing well.” “Thank you.” It’s a soft murmur, but with that out of the way, you adjust the attention onto the woman. “How are things going for you?” “Pretty fantastic actually.” “Are you still at that magazine writing job?” “Oh, god no.” She takes a sigh of relief and you’re happy that she’s moved on since she dreaded the job back then. “I’m a wedding singer now.” You’re pleasantly surprised. “Really?” “Really. I love it.” There’s a bright grin that spreads into her cheeks, uncanny to her younger brother when he’s in a good mood. “I haven’t been better. Free and happy. And before you ask—” She leans over to whisper while the long strands of her hair cascade down and frame her face. “I dumped Yugyeom. Well, more like he dumped me because he was sleeping with my best friend and preferred her over me because I’m too...boring…” She shrugs. “But I was going to drop that hot potato anyway.” “I….see...” Any sympathy isn’t necessary since Sowon seems nothing but sincerely happy about it, so you can only bob your head to show you’re listening. “It’s so nice to see you again,” she muses and means it genuinely. “We should go out for dinner to catch up more. Better yet, you should come home. My parents miss you more than I do—” “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” You look away unintentionally, nervousness grabbing hold to dictate all your actions. “I mean, isn’t visiting my boss’ parents during my free time a little weird?” Sowon scoffs, leaning back and crossing her arms. “No. You’re practically my sister, aren’t you? That trumps whatever Hoseok is to you.” You laugh and she eases, glancing at the labels of her paper cup. “But if you have free time...if you feel comfortable...you should visit them. They’re getting old.” “I’ll try.” You steal a glimpse at the screen of your phone, having felt it vibrate in your pocket. “I’m keeping you from something, aren’t I?’ “No, not really.” It’s not like you have much to do today. If anything, you were ahead of your own set schedule, but… “I’ve just been gone from the office for a while.” “If my brother is ever imposing on you or using his title of ‘boss’—” her fingers make air quotations. “—to bother you in any way, then just tell me and I’ll beat some sense into him.” “Okay.” Your cheeks ache from smiling so widely. “The kid thinks he’s such a hot shot now that he goes around bullying others without realizing.” A hopeless sigh spills from her lips. “Well, don’t let me hold you up. We should both get going.” “Oh, aren’t you coming with me?” “Nah. I was coming over to bother Hoseok, but I found something even better.” She smiles, indicating you. “So, I’m satisfied. I’ll probably head home.” “Are you sure?” “Yeha. He wouldn’t want to see me anyways. I know that kid.” She gets up and you both take your belongings, slowly leaving the warm cafe to the colder streets. “Don’t bother telling him I swung by either. Save him that stress.” “Okay.” Outside of the door, you hug her one last time and she holds onto you, patting your back in steady beats with the palm of her hand. “Promise me you’ll be okay,” she murmurs gently and you smile against her shoulder “I’ll be fine.” “Then don’t be a stranger.” She parts and gazes at you. “Keep in contact with me, alright, brat?” “Yes.” You giggle, bidding her a final goodbye. Her backside eventually fades off down the street and you’re sorely reminded of her brother whom she resembles so strongly that it shakes you inside. // Lost friends. Lost memories. It’s been so long that things begin to resurface despite years of pushing them away. You didn’t realize you missed her so much until you saw her and you begin to ponder about your other friends, the people that you used to be so close to until the life that you were so fond of was ripped away from your grasps. But you’re too afraid to reach out again. It’s dangerous to play the game of what if. What if things had been different back then. You wonder how much your life could’ve changed. Maybe you would have someone to go home to, maybe you wouldn’t have been so lonely, maybe you would be happier, maybe not. You really shouldn’t dwell on things that aren’t part of reality. But the encounter with Hoseok’s older sister leaves you reeling and you don’t even realize where you are. “Y/N?” “Yes?” Your daydream is broken and you force yourself to focus on the receptionist sitting across the desk from you. “Sorry, I was thinking about something else, but go ahead.” Dahyun glances behind her to the closed door and then clears her throat. “Does Hoseok hate me?” Your eyebrow lifts. “Why would you say that?” “He keeps glaring at me.” She points to both her eyes with her index and middle finger, whispering like he’s a monster who can hear behind solid walls. “Whenever I walk past or he walks past or I knock on his office, he has this glare.” “No, that’s not it,” you try to explain with a laugh. “That’s what he looks like when he’s concentrated or being serious. Trust me, he doesn’t hate you. Hoseok doesn’t hate anybody. It would take a lot to make him actually mad.” “Oh, okay.” Dahyun takes a sigh of relief. “I was worried he was upset with me.” Not long, you get another guest inside your office. “So last week, there was a file I was working on.” Sunyi is ranting again. For once, it’s not about Yoongi’s loud chewing or how she swears she can hear him trimming his toenails in his office and it’s absolutely disgusting. “And I asked Hoseok if a draft was necessary for the case. It’s more complicated than that, but that’s the basic gist. Anyways, he told me ‘no’, and then today he asks me why the draft wasn't done and that we need it! How ridiculous is that?!” “Maybe he’s just busy,” you attempt to appease her and expand her empathy. “Things can get pretty hectic. He probably just forgot and got confused.” “But he always blames others instead of himself. It’s so frustrating!” “Well, being the boss is tough. There’s a lot for him to juggle. I’m sure this is a misunderstanding.” “It’s not. He just never admits when he’s wrong.” “Did he apologize to you?” There’s a moment of silence. “Well, yeah, after I explained what happened.” You smile at the lawyer. “He’s a partner of this firm along with Jimin. The both of them have a lot riding on their shoulders and they have to uphold the name of this place. They’re the leaders of this firm. It’s probably difficult to admit their mistakes as the bosses since it would damage their own pride and shake the foundation of this place.” Sunyi shrugs, mumbling a mere ‘I guess’. But you know she’s thinking about what you’ve said. There seems plenty of concerns and worries today since you get yet another person sitting in your office, across from your desk. Kim Seokjin is undeniably handsome no matter what he does, though right now you can agree he’s seen better days. “He keeps micromanaging me! Every time I’m doing something, I feel him hovering over my shoulder and watching the screen of my computer like he’s trying to catch me do something wrong.” He groans, ranting and nagging, shaking his head and pounding his first on your desk, startling you to death. “Do you know how uncomfortable I feel on a daily basis?!” “He’s probably just doing his rounds. It’s part of the job as boss….” Your voice goes quiet at the way he looks at you. Seokjin’s arm falls to his side and his frown deepens. He leans over closer until half his body is pressed on the surface of your smooth desk. He looks at you like you’ve gone crazy. “Why are you defending him?” “What?” You blink. “I’m not.” “You are.” He tilts his head. “We usually always talk shit on Hoseok. Every. Day.” You’re beginning to sweat. “Well, it’s not good to talk badly about our bosses.” “Did he find out?” Jin’s eyes become wide. “No, no!” You quickly reassure the legal assistant. “What we talk in here is confidential.” “Then did you get in trouble?” “No, nothing like that. I’m just….trying to approach it from a different angle….less talking trash...you know?” “It’s strange,” he says, pouting slightly at how you don’t want to talk smack about Hoseok anymore. “No offence.” You hum before pulling out your emergency drawer. “Would you like a cookie?” Kim Seokjin grins, attention like a fish’s and successfully diverted. “Yes, please.” // Sometimes it feels more like you’re the complaint department or a counselor than an HR manager. You don’t mind since mediating and conflict resolution has always been your strongest skill set. But it’s difficult when you’re dealing with other people’s problems and no one helps you with yours. You even forget about your own issues. And yet, despite it going against your own mottos and what you were taught, it feels better to just bury those problems and forget them. There’s nothing like having a problem and pretending it’s not there right in your face. Ignoring is also part of your skill set. The knocks on your door break you out of your trance and you lift your head, finding an older woman standing at your doorway. “Do you have a moment, Y/N?” She smiles and you stand. “Of course! Please take a seat.” Kye Naul is one of the lawyers of the firm and you’ve haven’t been able to get many interactions with her when the others occupy your time a lot more. You know a few things about her, like how she’s one of the oldest people in the office, probably ten to twenty years older than you, and her sons have grown up and moved out of the house. She’s also the person who’s practiced law for the longest in the firm and both Jimin and Hoseok respect her greatly. She takes a seat across from the desk and you feel calm, reminded of your own mother’s presence. “I’m sorry. You were about to leave, weren’t you? It’s pretty close to five o’clock right now. I would've stopped by earlier, but I just finished billing five minutes ago.” “Oh no, it’s completely fine.” You smile. “Trust me, I don’t have anything to do after this, so feel free. I’ll just be at home watching television anyways. What’s the matter?” It isn’t a lie. Today is your off-day with your part-time job of taxi driving. “This might be inappropriate and unprofessional,” she prefaces. “It has nothing to do with the firm or the office. It’s about my marriage.” “It’s okay. Trust me, I’ve heard enough about people’s antics around here and what their odd hobbies are to be surprised or for it to be inappropriate.” She nods and inhales deeply. “My husband is having a midlife crisis.” “To put it shortly, we’re going through a rough patch because of it.” There’s a long pause. “He wants to buy a boat, move houses, hell, buy a house boat. He wanted to adopt a kid, a cat, a dog. He even tried convincing me to volunteer in a different continent for six months building mud houses for the elderly.” She sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. “Have you ever had someone drive you absolutely insane?” “Yes.” You hold back a laugh, amused at hearing about her husband’s crisis. “I think everyone has at some point.” “How did you end up tolerating them?” “I don’t know,” you muse and a slight shrug follows. Someone specific comes to mind as you keep talking. “I guess I just cared so much that it didn’t matter to me if they were insane or completely crazy. I guess that makes me crazy too.” She exhales another breath and nods. “Love makes people do stupid things.” “Well…” You’re not sure where it comes from, but it stumbles from your tongue the moment you hear the four-letter word ‘love’. Immediately, you shake your head. “I’m not sure I would call it love.” “Oh?” Naul’s brow lifts in curiosity. “Then what is it?” “I don’t know. Definitely not love though.” You nod, so sure of yourself. This certain someone that you have in mind — you don’t love him. “It’s...a blindness.” “A disease?” The lawyer clarifies, eyes narrowing even more as she carefully watches you. “Sort of.” You can’t see it any other way. To be completely crazy for someone where you overlook flaws and have to sacrifice yourself. It’s blinding. It’s horrible. It’s painful. “I don’t think love should make you do stupid things. I don’t think that’s love.” Yet, the older woman only appears more and more amused. “Why do you say that?” “I can’t see how it’s love if you keep crawling back to someone and they keep hurting you over and over again. It’s just...a bad addiction at that point.” Your original stance in remaining unbiased is hurled out the window as you spill your truest beliefs out loud. The beliefs that formed over many long years from being jagged by someone you held... “It’s stupid to keep running back to them.” You repeat it in your head several times. “You’re right,” Naul says simply. “It isn’t love. Or at least, it isn’t just love.” Her wise eyes are glimmery like they know too much. The lawyer leans closer to you like she’s about to tell a secret. “It’s a selfless love. It’s an unconditional love. That’s why we tolerate them and keep coming back, even when they make us angry to the point we want to throw a lamp across the room. That’s why we don’t kick them out of the house at night and make them sleep on the couch instead. It’s unconditional love.” The lawyer continues, “Doing crazy things, things you thought you’d never do for anyone, allowing yourself to be vulnerable and accepting them back after getting hurt, that’s okay. It’s powerful to be that selfless. It’s still love, Y/N. It’s okay to feel this way. There’s no need to blame yourself and think it’s a bad addiction. God knows in a relationship patience, tolerance, compromise is required.” She smiles and when she speaks, it’s less for herself and more for you. “Now, if only unconditional love went both ways, then love wouldn’t have to turn toxic, now, would it? If selfless love was always reciprocated, no one would ever have to hurt.” “It’s harmful when it doesn’t go both ways and that’s when it needs to be stopped. If it does go both ways and you know that person would tolerate us too and wouldn’t mind being hurt….” She sighs softly. “Well, we just have to ask ourselves if the other person has unconditional love for us as well. Only then will we know that doing all these crazy things is worth it.” You’re speechless, not sure how to respond. Naul simply gets up from her chair, much calmer than she was when she first walked into the room. She must’ve decided that this was enough to help her, but before she can leave the room or bid a goodnight, you stop her. “Stay with him,” you say quickly while standing on your feet. The door is already parted and she turns to look at you. It’s as if your memories are flashing before your eyes and you are actually trying to talk to your past self. It’s as if you are attempting to alter history that cannot be changed. It isn’t Naul who stands in front of you anymore, but someone much different. “Or at least don’t decide anything on your own. Talk to him properly.” And the lawyer scoffs with a grin. “Of course I’m staying with him. He’s one of those people in my life that I’ll never be able to let go.” That same evening, Naul comes home to an apartment where her two brain-celled husband is flipping through grocery flyers on the kitchen floor. When he looks up at her, he smiles and tells her that they both ought to take up fishing since it’s apparently beneficial to their health and a very relaxing hobby. For now, he’s given up the idea of building mud houses near the jungle. But he also tells her that he’s already pre-purchased two very expensive fishing rods and by the way he slightly cringes, she knows he’s afraid she’ll become upset. But the woman simply sighs and leans down, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him silly. When he smiles against her lips, she parts and nods, finding fishing a great idea. In the meanwhile, you’re still left dwelling on the conversation. As you return to your empty home with nothing to do, you wonder how stupid you really are, how you keep crawling back, how you keep running for him, hanging onto every single of his words, how you can keep following him like some kind of loyal dog, even after being abandoned and kicked helplessly. More importantly, you wonder how you can never let go. It isn’t love. Selfless love. Unconditional love. Any of that. You refuse to believe such a thing. You refuse to believe you harbor such feelings. But — “You did well.” — one word from him is all it takes for everything you’ve known to crumble.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #hoseok fluff #hoseok fanfic #jhope fanfic #BTS jung hoseok is the baby boy of the fam :']#OC who is in a crisis after talking to someone hella woke

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ducktales-wco-oo · 4 years

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[SteelBush] "Memories of Sorrow" - ✩ { @aflockoffeathers } ✩

✩ { Meme } ✩

{ ☆ } He can’t help but feel... bad. About what happened to Steel- Chanticleer’s chickens, about fading away before he could console the distraught child, about going into that memory in the first place— maybe it would have been better for Steelbeak to discover the chickens alone, not having to endure the loss of his dear friends AND a brand new one within mere minutes of each other —and for not being able to offer much aside from soft kisses against the top of Steel’s head and vine-arms wrapping tightly around him in return.

Some time passes like this, Reggie wracking his brain for something that might lift his boyfriend’s mood. Might help take Steel away from the horrible memory he’d accidentally caused the rooster to relive, spirit him from the terrible thunderstorm that relentlessly rages on... and then it hits him. Lightbulb practically appearing above his head, he nervously smiles down at Steel and tentatively asks, “Hey... Uh, Steely?” Or can he call him Chanticleer now? ... Chanti? That’s a question best left ‘til later. "Do you... still want to see li’l Bushie?”

…

It takes a bit of reassuring that he’s perfectly fine with Steelbeak going into his memories, more or less. Reggie waving his hand dismissively and barking out an awkward laugh at the thought that he WOULDN’T want Steel to... observe his past... at a random point in time... possibly altering the future and destroying the happiest and healthiest relationship he’s ever been in. Okay. It takes a bit of convincing, a smidge of his temper, and unfairly effective puppy-dog eyes— paired with leafy hands cupping the rooster’s cheeks, the tip of his beak touching Steel’s as he elaborates on how it’s ‘not fair’ if they don’t use the machine ONE more time —before the troublesome chips are finally back on their hands.

Albeit, switched...

With a deep, shuddery breath, that poses some concerns, he prepares for Steel to witness something from his past. Whatever it is, he can only hope that it’s as mundane and non-humiliating as possible. Good luck. Noticing the other male’s mouth start to open, worry abundant in amber hues, he quickly acts before Steelbeak has a chance to call it off. Rushing forward, beak presses against his boyfriend’s in a slightly-panicked kiss, as if it is the last one they get to share. Depending on what memory Steel finds, it very well might be...

… ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ …

The house is big... REALLY big. Surprisingly so, considering the financial trouble Bushroot always seems to be in. Even before the incident that transformed him, the male was heavily dependent on the money of others. Which doesn’t bode well for any familial relations he might have towards whoever lives in the manor—well-maintained, except for a few cracks along the walls and an overgrown yard that stretches out toward the edge of a forest. It’s a secluded place that seems as if it would be rather peaceful to live... if not for the echoing of loud children from within the high walls. Strange... Reggie never mentioned siblings.

But Steel doesn’t have time to ponder the scene or the strangers within, because trekking along outside of the house towards the deep woodland, is the reason for his visit.

Head darting from side to side, as if wanting to make sure he isn’t being followed, a duckling scampers through the tall grass. Unfortunately, he’s not all too observant because Steel is able to follow with comical ease. Despite not being part-plant, those bright royal blue hues are proof enough of who the child is. But even if that wasn’t, a familiar mop of hair is atop his head. No longer lavender, but shaggy and tuft-like all the same, thick ebony locks that messily bob along as he nearly slips on the dewdrop covered ground. From the thick scent of lingering rain in the air and the muddiness of their journey— the duckling slipping and sliding, but miraculously not falling yet —it seems like a storm has just passed.

The journey continues for a few moments before nature finally sends the duckling tumbling to the ground. Tripping on an upturned root, a startled quack escapes the boy before he is violently rolling along the ground into a nearby tree. With a heavy thud and a pathetic whimper, the boy lays flat on the ground, beak quivering and eyes groggily fluttering... before they suddenly snap open wide, surprise evident in them at the sight of a hand offering to help him up. Gaze raises to look at the stranger, a loud gasp escaping the duckling as he shakily quickly accepts the hand and stands up. Frantically dusting himself off and running his hands through his disheveled locks, he then abruptly straightens his posture.

Shoulders tense and arms stiff at his sides, chest puffs out as the diminutive boy tries to make himself seem taller, bigger, more impressive. Gazing up with wide eyes, beak is slightly agape at the other’s fancy attire and well-groomed feathers... Rich. This guy HAS to be rich. Not that it matters; he could be poor as dirt and Reggie would still be ecstatic a the sight of a visitor. Shaking his head when he realizes that he is staring, pale white cheeks flush with embarrassment, soft down feathers fluffing to impossible size as he quickly extends his hand to shake the adult’s, “H-Hello, sir! My name is Reginald! Reginald Bushroot!”

Voice is small and squeaky with nerves, but he pushes through, still anxiously bobbing the stranger’s hand up and down as he speaks, “I’m ten years old, don’t have any pre-existing medical conditions, have straight A’s, and once went an entire week without making a single sound!” Words pour out in a rush, yet are well-rehearsed, as if he’s used to giving this spiel, “So you wouldn’t have to worry about me annoying you or even causing ANY trouble at all! I can cook and clean and don’t even need toys or anything!” It’s not as if he has many of them NOW anyway. “Just tell me whatever kind of son you want, and I can be it, Sir!”

Reggie doesn’t seem to notice the stranger’s blatant surprise, looking in the direction of the woods. “Do you... Do you like plants?” He timidly asks, shyly smiling upward. At the slow nod, concern in amber hues going unheeded, his smile grows bigger. Excitement shining in blue hues and smile bright, Reggie leads him toward the treeline, hand tightly grasping his. He only spends a moment to ask for a name— “Steelbeak? I guess that makes sense...” —before rambling on about how the rain was wonderful for the plants and how he really likes the way the earth smells after a storm and hey, do you want to know the scientific name for that flower? Or that one? ... How many kids are you thinking of adopting anyway?

Reggie thinks that Steelbeak should only take one home.

Well, that explains the surplus of children inside. From looking at the duckling, it’s clear that he’s one in a long line of kids who need to be taken adopted. With clothes that are a smidge too big on his lean frame, blatantly boasting hand-me-down, and feathers that look like they haven’t been properly preened in weeks, Reggie is far from being anyone’s priority. Perhaps that’s why he’s so quick to cling to the stranger he JUST met, to the slim chance of getting a home. A family. Small as it may be, even one person is more than he has right now.

Scampering towards the edge of the woodlands, Reggie’s excited ramblings— he wasn’t kidding when he said he could be whatever kind of son Steel wanted, noisy or quiet —finally draw to an end as they approach thick bushes. Although, a spot near the front seems to be more man-made than natural, fallen branches and leaves having been dragged and gathered to one spot. Releasing Steel’s hand, Reggie grunts with effort as he shuffles some of the meticulously strewn branches to the side, revealing a divet in the ground between some thickets where a vibrant flower is tentatively sprouting from the dirt.

But this plant is... strange. It looks like an amalgamation of a couple flowers; rose petals that hang like bluebells colored a mixture of warm and cool hues. A painstaking creation of Reggie’s, if the look he gives them is any indication. Blue hues sparkling with pride, he bends onto his knees to better look at the flowers, “I call her Rosebells... You wouldn’t believe how long it took to get actual results. First I had to-” Explanation is sadly cut short, the sound of scampering feet suddenly cutting through the serene air. Dozens and dozens of them trampling through the underbrush and destroying all in their path... “Oh no. They’re coming.”

Scrambling onto his feet, Reggie frantically starts shoving Steelbeak into the thick foliage, ignoring his protests and the way his silk suit is ripped and soiled by branches. “Shhhhhhh! Just- Just shush, please!” Surprisingly, the stranger falls silent without further begging... Maybe it’s the way his eyes had started to fill with tears, or the way his voice had cracked with fear panic. Either way, Reggie doesn’t question it. He just hurriedly explains, “Whatever you do, don’t make any noise! I don’t want them knowing you’re here, or else they’ll never leave you alone.” Reggie will get shoved to the side. Ignored... Just like always.

“HEY, VEG-HEAD!” ... When he isn’t being tormented, at least.

Yelping, Reggie spins around to face the swarm of newcomers. A hoarde of children, with ill-fitting clothes and mussed feathers, some having dirt-stained faces, others poorly applied make-up, all with cruel smiles or scowls... Swallowing a lump in his throat, Reggie’s hands begin to fidget— a habit he doesn’t grow out of —as he pitifully says, “I-I told you guys, I don’t like being called that.” It might have been considered brave, talking back like that, if the small duckling didn’t immediately flinch and cower when someone stepped forward.

Wide-eyed as the leader of the group approaches, Reggie stumbles backward in an attempt to keep distance between them. Unfortunately, he’s trapped between the children and the forest. Frankly, he’d take his chances in the woods, and is ready to do so. But even NATURE can’t be completely kind to him, and with a pathetic squeak— covering his face as the larger boy raises a fist, the crowd jeering behind him —he trips on an upturned root and plops onto his side next to his precious Rosebell. Maybe it wouldn’t have been as bad if he hadn’t scrambled onto his knees, frantically checking to see if the flower was harmed.

In mere moments, he’d HATE himself for that.

Reggie doesn’t even hear the other boy approach, too focused on his flower. It isn’t until he’s roughly yanked upright by the back of his shirt, tossed into the crowd where two kids latch onto his arms and hold him still, that he realizes what’s happening. What he’s done. What the leader is going to do... and he can’t do anything about it. But God, does he try. Struggling against the arms holding him— like how Steelbeak struggles against the branches he’s entangled in, clawing at his arms and snagging in his clothes, as if the plants know that this NEEDS to happen... —Reggie desperately flails and fights, panicked tears brimming in his eyes as the other kid nears the plant. “N-No! What- What are you doing?”

Meeting Reggie’s gaze, a finger slowly taps against the flower’s petals, “What’s the matter, Veggie? You look upset~” Fingers slowly grasp a petal... and yank.

Reggie can practically hear the flower scream. “Hey! Don’t do that!” He struggles harder, wincing as the grips on his arms grow tighter, bruising his fragile limbs and causing tears to stream freely down his face. But he keeps wriggling, crying out, “You’re hurting her!” Kicking at one of their legs, the small boy is merely lifted up, feet dangling uselessly above the ground as he struggles. “STOP IT!” Another petal. “STOOOOOOP!” And another. A cruel pattern that continues for a few seconds, Reggie’s cries going unheeded, near drowned out by the laughter of the children around him. Enjoying the show... Passing the time, distracting themselves from the fact that each unchanging day is blending into the next.

“You really are pathetic. Y’know?” The boy muses, fingers slowly curling around the mangled flower’s stem as he muses, “You actually care about this dumb weed. I mean- You called it a HER! How messed up is that?!” He laughs, a cruel, mocking sound as he looks at the tear-stained and hoarse boy, “What, is this your girlfriend or something? You gonna start smooching flowers now, Bushbrain? Funny... I always thought you were a pansy.” Bursting out into a fit of laughter, body abruptly grows still at a bitter, murmured statement.

“At least I can spell pansy...”

Immediately, Reggie grows still, breath hitching and eyes wide as he feels his heart stall. “I- I didn’t mean it.” Feathers ruffle as the hold around Rosebell tightens, the other boy’s knuckles turning white as his gaze burns with notorious fire. “Are you calling me stupid?” Growing paler, Reggie frantically shakes his head, voice trembling like his form, “N-No! I’d- No, I’d never dream of- I- I was just... Y-You- I...” What has he done? “I’ll show you stupid...” The other boy’s eyes narrow, movements quick and cold... as he RIPS the flower straight from the ground. With a snarl, he stalks over and shoves the flower in Reggie’s face.

“THIS is stupid!” Flower is harshly shaken in front of Reggie’s face; the diminutive boy looking horrified, as if a corpse is being waved around. “All your dumb plants and your lame facts and how you actually think anyone could CARE about this crap! About YOU!” Flower is savagely torn to shreds, petals and stem flung to the ground in front of them as he spats out, “Well, gues what, Veg-Head?! No. One. EVER. WILL!” To emphasize his point, a fist is rammed into Reggie’s stomach. The duckling cries out in pain, drowning out the sound of Steel’s suit ripping, the rooster finally being set free- before everything fades away.

And he’s back in the penthouse...

Trembling, face is streaked with droplets as Reggie pulls away, everything that happened seeming to have transpired during that single kiss. Sniffling, he quickly starts wiping at his eyes, desperately trying to stop the flow of tears and steady his pounding heart. He feels sick... He can still feel the punches, can see his flower- his first friend torn apart in front of him, can hear the ‘non-existent’ screams, can hear his own... can remember thinking that they were all right. But they WEREN’T. Steel is here with him now, he cares... He cares.

He cares, he cares, he cares... HE KNOWS HE DOES, SO WHY DOES IT SOUND STUPID IN HIS HEAD RIGHT NOW? Reggie doesn’t remember rushing into Steelbeak’s embrace; wrapping his arms around him and burying his face against his chest. But he is, sobbing against it and feeling even weaker than he did that day. Pathetic. { ☆ }

#(F U C K)#(....... Welp. Now you know a bit more about Reggie's childhood :'D )#ducktales-wco-oo #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ɪ’ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜱɪɴɪꜱᴛᴇʀ; ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴍɪꜱᴜɴᴅᴇʀꜱᴛᴏᴏᴅ ❞ ¦ 「 Bushroot IC 」#⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ʀᴇᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ʜɪꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ❞ ¦ 「 Headcanon 」#steelbeak tbt #aflockoffeathers #⭒ ˙ ˖ ✧ — ˗ˏˋ ❝ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴅᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴅᴏ ʙᴀᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴛᴀʟᴇꜱ! ❞ ¦ 「 RP 」

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an-aura-about-you · 6 years

Note

for the five word prompts, "how about you make me?" and Autor/Anteaterina (or if there's another ship that it fits better/you'd rather write at the moment, follow your dreams :P)

I guess I’ve been in a creative winter because it took quite some time for me to figure out what I wanted to do with this. But now that I have an idea working, this feels very lovely.

“Not that your research project isn’t fun or whatever,” Erina says from somewhere in the shelves of the family library idly flipping through a poetry collection, “But I was thinking of doing something a little more romantic.”

Autor looks up from his desk, a rough continuity of the events of The Prince and the Raven as collected from other sources in the works. It’s quite the feat considering the stack of books that have piled up around him. No wonder Erina decided to play search party and look for him.

“I could tell you what I have so far,” he offers.

“That doesn’t pull you away from your books,” she protests. “C’mon, you need some fresh air, at least a break. A nice romantic date with your girlfriend, perhaps?

He goes, “Romantic? That hardly seems fitting for me.”

“You can be romantic,” she insists.

He rolls his eyes and goes, “Please. Outside of genre, I don’t know the meaning of the word.”

She approaches, pokes her index finger into his chest, and goes, “I know there’s something romantic in you right around there.”

He frowns without malice, face not showing anything of how his heart flutters beneath her hand. “If you’re so sure about that, then how about you make me?” he challenges.

Now it’s Erina’s turn to frown. “Make you romantic?” she asks for clarification.

Thinking suits Erina, and Autor waits in anticipation for the moment he knows is coming. The one thing he likes better than watching Erina think is watching Erina come to the conclusion of her thinking. He idly wonders if he can cause this more often by, say, providing her with puzzles and riddles or if that would dull him to the look of it.

Erina smirks wide enough to lop the top of her head off in epiphany, and it convinces Autor that he’ll never get tired of it.

“All right, I will,” she tells him. “But I’m still dragging you to that walk.”

“Fair enough,” he agrees, marking his place and following her out.

Autor sits at the desk, staring at his name written in familiar script on the strange, stuffed envelope found along with today’s mail. No address, no postage, not even an indication of who sent it on the envelope itself. But even without checking inside, he knows who sent this. And, by its very nature of being some kind of a letter, he has a guess what the contents are.

“What is Erina getting at?” he wonders, checking the back of the envelope and finding she simply tucked the flap in rather than seal it. “If she intends to make me act romantic, why is she the one sending a love letter?”

He carefully pulls the envelope open and finds four handwritten pages. He can feel the blush creep over his cheeks and all the way to his ears. He’s never received a love letter before in his life, and now he has one that’s four pages long. Does she want him to write a love letter to her? If his own reaction is any indication, it would most likely be considered romantic. But first things first, he owes her letter his undivided attention. He picks up the first page and begins reading.

“We sit in the practice room at the end of the day. I watch you from my spot on the floor, finishing my cool down stretches while you massage your overworked hands at the piano. You work so hard for me, and part of me wants to ask if you even want to.

“Instead, I ask, ‘Want to get a cup of coffee?’

“You look at me, and I wait for you to tell me you don’t drink coffee. Even now, I haven’t figured out another way to ask you. It’s not much of an inside joke if I’m the only one who knows it’s a joke, though.

“But you ask, ‘Why don’t we go to Ebine’s instead?’

“Glad that you understand what I meant, I hold my hand out to you and say, ‘Sure.’“

Autor puts the page down, unsure exactly what he’s reading. This doesn’t look like what he expected from a love letter. And now that he’s thinking over it, is this something they actually did that she documented or is she making up a story about them? And what is he supposed to do with it? Part of him even wonders if she wants him to spin a story for them, but the more he thinks on it, the less likely that seems to be the case. But that might be to comfort his pride.

He continues reading the story Erina wrote for him, curious at the details she chooses to include. The trip to Ebine’s includes a detour to the flower stall, and he wonders why until his story self gifts her with an orange rose. Dinner is a simple affair in description, but she takes the time to mention sharing her creme brulee with him. And throughout is a constant thread of the two holding hands, either mentioning him casually reaching out to take her hand without looking or helping her up from a chair, the persistent presence of touch.

“We lie side by side in the grass behind the museum. The roots of the Oak Tree run beneath us, and the stars write their stories in the sky above us. You point out this constellation and that, reading the stories to me.

“Your voice catches a moment when I take your hand, knitting my fingers together with yours.

“‘I told you that you can be romantic.’“

Autor can almost feel Erina’s hand in his just from reading the words, and yet the story leaves him feeling like he’s intruding on his own date. He’s just finished it, but he wants to read it again right away. He sets the letter aside, fighting the impulse to do that and allow the words to digest.

Did she write that because it’s romantic? Is that what romantic is? As far as what she’s written for him, nothing seems out of place. He would tell Erina he’d rather not go for coffee. He would talk to her about the constellations he knows if she’s willing to listen. He does hold her hand.

Doesn’t he?

And come to think of it, has he bought her flowers? He certainly likes the idea.

And while they’ve been to the museum together, he knows they’ve never been out there stargazing.

And now that she’s brought all of these things up, he can’t stay in this study a moment longer.

“Autor? This is unexpected,” Erina says when she opens her door.

Autor shrugs a little and goes, “I know. Is this a bad time? I just wanted to see you is all.”

“No, this is fine,” she answers, opening the door a little wider and stepping back. “Did you want to come in?”

“Actually, I wanted to know if you’d like to go out for pizza.”

“Pizza?” she echos before looking over her clothes to gauge whether she’s suitable to go as is.

He nods and says, “I’ve never been to the pizza parlor. It sounded like something nice to do together.”

“Well, I have to go if you’ve never been before!” Erina agrees. “Just give me a moment to comb my hair and tell my parents?”

“So it’s official: you are ridiculous when you’re eating pizza,” Erina tells Autor.

Autor pops his nose up in the air and goes, “Frankly, I’m under the notion that pizza itself is ridiculous and there is no way to eat it that’s not ridiculous.” He side-eyes her a little from his faux-indignation and adds, “But I will admit their pizza is delicious.”

Erina folds her arms over her chest and asks, “Wait, then am I ridiculous when I’m eating pizza?”

“Yes,” he answers without any sort of hesitation.

“You didn’t even stop to think about that!”

“I didn’t have to.”

She ends up bowing her head and laughing. The giggle fit lasts a good while, long enough that she’s caught off guard when Autor takes her hand. She jolts up in that moment only to see him leading her to the flower stall. Whatever was left of her laughter dies abruptly in her throat, but the warmth of it remains in her face.

Autor points out his choice, pays, and offers Erina an orange geranium with white on the tips of its petals.

Erina tilts her head a little, but she accepts the flower with a gentle touch.

“I know you wrote down something different,” he tells her. “But since you told me your favorite flower, I thought I’d show you which one was mine.”

“Oh,” she says in understanding, cheeks turning a bit red. “I didn’t know you had one.”

“I guess I didn’t think too much about my favorite flower until I thought about the sort of flowers I’d like to give to you,” he admits. He brushes a fingertip along the edge of the petals and says, “I think this suits you, too.”

Erina doesn’t say anything to that, but she doesn’t take her eyes off the geranium.

He watches a moment, wondering if he’s made a mistake. But he dismisses that thought since Erina hasn’t told him he’s made a mistake yet, nor has she specifically asked him to get her a rose outside of the story. He is glad he stuck with orange for her, especially now that the sky matches the flower in the colors of dusk.

“Ah, the stars will be out soon,” he says as though the words simply fell out of his mouth. “Would you like to watch?”

She looks up to him at that, turning the geranium a little in her fingers, and quietly says, “Sure.”

Autor is not one to say touch is overrated, but he is willing to make a case for proximity. Holding hands with Erina carries a sweetness to it, but it pales compared to the blanket of intimacy he feels reclining next to her in the grass behind the museum. Neither has reached for the other yet, busy watching the sky turn dark and the stars peek out, and yet he can feel her as if they had never let go of each other. Reaching out in this moment to actually hold her hand again seems superfluous.

“You overestimated me,” Autor confesses after the stars have made their nightly debut. “While I do know stories on gods, I’m afraid I don’t really know that much about the stars.”

“Really?” Erina asks, the word weaving to him through the warp and weft of togetherness thick in the air. “I’m a little surprised.”

“I guess I could tell you what I do know,” he offers. “I can point out Ursa Major and a couple of others.”

He points out the star they need to guide them and draws it out. She follows along with her own hand, but she gets the feeling she started on a different star. Perspective and arm flailing just aren’t getting the message across.

“Here,” Autor says, taking Erina’s hand in both of his and tracing the shape on her palm with his finger. “That’s Orion. Do you see him?”

It takes Erina a moment to find her words, but she manages to say, “I’m not sure. Why don’t you trace it again?”

Autor carefully traces the constellation on her palm again, slower and with a finer touch for detail. He stops when he sees she’s closed her eyes.

“Erina, you’re not looking.”

“I don’t have to,” she whispers. “What other constellations do you know?”

Autor considers this a moment, which is long enough for him to catch up to what he’s done and Erina’s reaction to it. Her hand is so warm in his, and without thinking he follows the lines in her palm. He watches her fingers flex and curl at his touch. Then he feels her eyes on him and stills, looking back at her.

Now he doesn’t need to look at the stars, either.

“There’s Ursa Major,” he tells her, drawing the approximate shape on her hand. “And Ursa Minor, of course. Cassiopeia, the vain queen. Andromeda, her daughter…”

Autor continues for as long as he can think of constellations, not sure if he’s getting the shapes right at this point. All he can think to do is draw the stars into Erina’s hand.

Erina leans to him when he runs out of stars to give her and fills the silence with a kiss.

“You’re even more romantic than I thought,” she murmurs.

#siriusmistake #Princess Tutu: I might need my notes for this...

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bitterbeetle · 6 years

Text

and in my heart, we were whole

Rating: G WC: 4,676 Hak & Yona & Soowon friendship centric with a small side of Hak/Yona

Summary: Yona has lived eighteen years within the palace walls, waking to the sound of birds chirping and the smell of fresh fruit and pastries. Her childhood best friend provides her with wit and snark to combat, and her love gives her smiles and kindness. They are together, and Yona is content. Yet something doesn't feel right.

AO3

Yona wakes to birds chirping outside her window. She sighs, a flicker of annoyance, and rises with her hair a scarlet halo around her head. An impatient comb through with her fingers only manages to get them caught. Already grumpy, she flicks off her sheets and steps to the window. A breeze filters through, rustling her nightgown and cooling her face.

Squinting at the birds hopping about the tree directly outside, Yona waves a groggy hand at them. “Quiet, you! Have some respect for your princess.”

The birds only chatter louder at each other.

Sensing a losing battle, Yona turns away just as the handmaiden precedes herself with a gentle knock on the door. She bears a tray of fruit and light pastries and a gilded comb. Irritation at being woken assuaged, Yona returns to her bed to eat while the attendant brushes her hair into some semblance of tidy.

The day doesn’t seem so tiresome once Yona has a belly full of gentle foods and soft hair painstakingly freed of static with a touch of oil. She allows herself to be dressed, creams and oils lathered into her skin, a touch of pink to her lips. Yona studies herself in the floor-length mirror.

Her hair will always be a bother, but she expects the rest of herself to be worthy of a princess. Tilting her chin up, Yona finds a pose most regal and smiles. She looks royal this morning, but something is amiss.

“Your Highness,” murmurs her attendant with a smile. “Do you wish to wear Lord Soowon’s gift to you?”

Oh, that’s it. Yona nods twice more than necessary, and shares in her handmaidens’ giggles as they twist up her hair with the beautiful hairpin she received two years before.

Now, she looks beautiful.

Outside her room stands Hak, scratching at the bridge of his nose. His gaze slides down to Yona as she twirls in the hall.

“How do I look?” she asks.

“The embodiment of half the land’s taxes?”

“Oh, you—!”

He easily dodges her kitten punches, dancing about her like he’s a court jester and not her guard. Spinning on her heel, Yona crosses her arms tight and marches away. She can’t sense Hak’s presence behind her, but she knows he’s following. He’ll always be where she wants him to be—although his tongue could use some fixing.

Yona practically bounces down the steps to the east gardens, where the rising sun glimmers warmly over the pond and floating lilies. Right where she expects him to be, Yona’s gaze finds Soowon. He’s as warm and bright as the morning sun, as fresh as the dew that pearls on shaded flowers. Yona’s steps are soft but her clothes brush grass, alerting Soowon to her arrival.

The smile he gives her is a gift she may never grow bored of.

“You’re up early,” he says, a teasing edge to his voice.

Yona barely stops herself from pouting, though her blush is less inclined to obey. “The birds,” she says by way of explanation.

“Of course, they’re not as keen to sleep in.” Soowon’s eyes lift to where Hak stands at Yona’s shoulder. His gaze, always gentle, softens even more. “Good morning, Hak.”

“Good morning, my lord,” says Hak in that way of his that always sounds like a joke.

“I’m sorry I missed your birthday celebrations,” says Soowon as Yona joins him on the bench overlooking the pond, Hak lounging against the nearest tree. “If you’ll still have it, I brought a gift.”

“Oh!” Yona’s hand goes to the ends of her hair. “Of course, anything from you I will treasure.”

Impressed by her own boldness, Yona ducks her head. Too late, she remembers the hairpin, and feels her flush intensify. Soowon laughs softly, and Yona feels something—his hand?—brush the braid the pin holds in place.

“Actually,” he says, “it matches.”

From his robe he pulls out something smaller than his fist, wrapped in green paper. Yona lifts her head to accept it with a pleased smile that grows wider with awe when she unwraps the bangle. It matches the colouring of her hairpin, though it looks more like gleaming scales than flower petals. Regardless, Yona holds it to her chest. Already it is dear to her.

“Thank you, Soowon,” she says warmly.

“Well put it on then,” says Hak. “I don’t think it’s meant to be worn on your washboard—”

“ Hak!”

Soowon laughs into his silk sleeve. The gleam of his eyes is enchanting. Yona has to look away, lest she accidentally fumble with the bangle as she puts it on her wrist. Once on, she holds out her hand to admire it. For a moment her eyes linger on the soft, prim cuticles of her hands, then she’s gazing once more at the bracelet and its coloured enamel.

At her request, the three of them take a stroll around the garden. The day is proving to be a mild one, with a light breeze that tickles Yona’s warm cheeks. Soowon is in an especially good mood, and while Yona feeds off his gentle aura and finds patience where before she might find indignance, she knows Hak is just as easily tempered. His quips feels more good-natured than usual, his smiles coming easier. He laughs at Yona’s jokes, and she feels as though she’s succeeded at something, drawing out that seldom heard sound.

“It would be a lovely day to visit the market,” says Yona casually.

Soowon falters, imperceptibly if not for Yona’s keen attentiveness to him. “Hm, not today.”

“Why not?” She pouts before realizing how unladylike it is.

Soowon murmurs something that sounds very much like I wonder before smiling down at her. There’s something off about it, but Yona doesn’t think too hard.

“Another day, perhaps?” he suggests.

“But today, the weather is—”

“Princess,” says Hak. “There are many more days.”

She turns to look at her guard, mouth open to retort, but Hak’s eyes are on Soowon. She decides to drop it.

That isn’t to say she’s not going to visit the marketplace anyway , however. The palace compound is sprawling, but she knows the walls surround only a tiny portion of the city. The world is beyond, and it is large. Besides, she’s eighteen, not some child who needs an escort.

Yona repeats this to herself when noon rolls around and Hak and Soowon are comfortable. Complacent is the word she’ll use on Hak when she returns, smug and carrying treats they don’t usually bother making in the palace, but ones that she knows Soowon enjoys and will forgive her for.

She doesn’t question the swell of confidence when she wraps herself in a cloak, the hood resting over her unmistakable hair. This feels familiar, though the soft fabric is much too gentle against her even softer fingers. That doesn’t seem right, but Yona has a mission to accomplish. She can think about that later.

The guards at the gate are allowing several empty carts to pass with their horses and merchants. Nobody bothers to check if anyone is leaving the palace grounds. Yona slips out easily with the merchants—but she isn’t the only one.

“You have been growing bold, Princess,” drawls a voice by Yona’s ear.

She squeaks her alarm and whips around, heart thundering. Upon seeing Hak’s cocked eyebrow, she screws up her face in a scowl. He straightens, his wrapped glaive balancing against one shoulder. To think he had the time to prepare his weapon before catching up to her. Yona sighs.

“Since we’re out anyway ,” she drawls in mimicry of her guard, “we might as well buy some treats!”

Hak’s eyebrows slide up further. “Princess.”

“Yes, Hak?”

“Did you even bring a purse?”

“I—” She cuts off. Oh, that’s a good point.

“I thought not.” He snorts and tugs back the edge of his overcoat to show off the leather pouch hanging pretty from his belt. “One of us has to be prepared around here.”

“You are my guard,” Yona mumbles, but then she brightens. “Does this mean we can walk around?”

“Not for too long, otherwise Soowon will get lonely.”

“Then let’s be quick.”

“What are you planning on getting?” asks Hak as Yona flounces down the road to the market.

“A return gift for Soowon!”

“Like?”

“Street food!”

She bounds to the first stall she sees, but another smell draws her to the opposite side, and then again she’s distracted by a savoury scent, then a sweet one. Hak tails her with all the patience he sometimes pretends he doesn’t have. There are paper streamers underfoot and confetti flipping through the air. Someone is playing jubilant music by the square. Yona forgets the food as she nears it.

The town is having a festival, she realizes—or rather, she remembers, though she isn’t sure what it is they’re celebrating. Street bards are singing, though the lyrics don’t point her in any one direction. The colours are those of all the tribes, tossed into the air by smiling men and women in simple robes made fanciful with embroidery.

In the middle of the square, Yona pauses. People are wearing masks now. How had she not noticed before? Something about it nags at her—the fact she can’t see their faces, or maybe it’s the crowd that feels as though it’s pressing in on her now. The cloak feels heavy. Her hands clench around it as if to pull it tighter around herself, but there’s a conflicting feeling of wanting to throw it off, free her arms, reach for something at her hip—

“Princess?”

There’s nothing there; the feeling passes. Yona blinks at Hak from under the brim of her hood, and then she smiles.

“You’re so slow, Hak,” she needles. “You call yourself a guard?”

“I call myself a babysitter,” he says and dodges Yona’s responding swipe.

With a sniff, she turns away from him resolutely to watch the bard, but there’s a familiar swish of ivory robes and she spots Soowon through the crowd the same moment he spots the two of them. His mouth quirks, and he slips through the press of bodies to reach them.

Yona digs her slippered toe into the ground as Hak huffs an unsurprised laugh.

“You didn’t think I’d miss seeing my favourite friends when they are the reason I’m here?” Soowon scoffs good-naturedly. “I’m saddened. What faith you lack.”

Yona winces sheepishly. “I wanted to bring back a gift for you.”

“Your gift to me is being by my side,” he says, warming Yona from the pit of her stomach to her ears, which must be flaming redder than her hair. “Since we’re here, however, I suppose we might as well make the most of the festivities.”

“You spoil her too much,” sighs Hak as Yona claps her hands delightedly.

“As if you don’t,” Soowon retorts with an amused smile.

“Dare I say spoil is too kind a word?”

Yona doesn’t linger to listen to their good-natured bickering. She bounds among the partygoers with new zeal until her hair is full of coloured paper and she’s spontaneously dancing as the music picks up. A girl barely taller than Yona’s shoulder takes her hands and spins her about until they start giggling, and then Yona’s hands are in Soowon’s. Her own laughter elicits one from Soowon, infectious and bubbling. At a pause between songs, Yona spots Hak loitering at the edge of the crowd. Trading a conniving look with Soowon, Yona bounds over to drag him into the space cleared for dancing bodies.

She doesn’t know how long they dance for; long enough that her breath is coming in gasps and her feet are hurting, yet she doesn’t wish to quit. Only by Soowon’s request does she stop, and that’s with the promise of food.

The trio drift from vendor to vendor. Their footsteps seem to take the beat of the drums in the square, and Yona feels the music in her chest in a way she can’t when it’s herself playing the instrument. Soon her fingertips are gummy with sweet and savoury residue, and Hak is tying her hands up in the act of cleaning them, forcing Soowon to feed a blushing Yona the last of her kebab.

The sun’s light is bleeding out the horizon by the time any of them remember Yona isn’t technically supposed to be wandering outside the palace. The townsfolk have lit their lamps, and the festivities don’t seem near an end, but both Hak and Soowon insist they return, and Yona concedes.

By the time they reach the palace gates, half the sky is a deep indigo sinking into an inky black. The guards let them pass with raised eyebrows. Nobody seems surprised by their late entry, and Soowon treats them with a dazzling smile.

Much too full of all the market treats, Yona foregoes supper and tea. Instead, she wanders the garden, humming music she fancies she can still hear from this side of the palace wall. Behind her, Hak and Soowon’s voices are deep and soft.

The pond is still, and in it is reflected the sky. Yona turns her gaze to diamonds embellishing the velvet of the night. They sparkle, though she does not know whether it’s her eyes playing tricks on her or the light truly is wavering. Regardless, the stars are beautiful, but they’re nothing compared to the moon.

It’s full and appears covered in frost. Something in Yona’s chest aches. She half expects the silver light to turn golden, but that would be impossible.

She turns at the sound of a chuckle. Sitting at the edge of the open hall, the two men share cups of sake. Hak is leaning against the support post, a grin evident in the rounded apple of his cheeks. Yona’s gaze drifts to the deep green of—

She blinks. Soowon’s hair is fair as sunlight. She doesn’t know why she expected anything different, but there’s something not quite right.

Confused and uncertain, Yona takes the moment to bid her two friends good night before padding down the hall towards her room.

She’s nearly there when she spots the gilded carvings twisting around the entrance to the throne room. Instead of retiring to her room, Yona cuts across the neatly trimmed grass to where the dragons shine in the moonlight. She stands there for a long time—long enough that her feet begin to ache—until her gaze drops to the shadowed doors of the throne room. They open quietly under her hands.

The room is empty.

Yona’s throat closes up and she’s running before she recognizes the fear coursing through her body. Her father’s rooms aren’t far away, but by the time she’s bursting through the doors, she’s gasping for breath and her legs are burning from the exertion. Her thoughts flicker between confusion—since when did so short a run exhaust her?—and terror that King Il will be gone from here too.

But her father is sitting at his desk, scrolls coiled loosely around him but for the one in his hands. He blinks up as Yona heaves for air in front of him, his own guards peeking in with barely concealed confusion.

“Yona?” says her father. “Is something wrong?”

He rises from his seat, but Yona can only stare at him as he rounds the desk to rest his hands on her arms.

“Yona?” he prompts gently, a concerned frown puckering his brow.

“I—I’m sorry,” gasps Yona. Somehow she’s surprised her father is here, talking to her. Where else would he be? “I’m...I had a nightmare.” Her gaze drifts to the scrolls. “What’s happening?”

Her father rubs her arms calmingly. He doesn’t glance at the scrolls. “Nothing.”

Yona frowns. “Nothing?”

“Nothing at all,” confirms the king. “The country is at peace.”

“Oh.” Her heartbeats slow. “Oh, that’s good.”

“Quite,” says her father with a smile. “Now, would you like a cup of warm milk to help you sleep? Or you can stay with me, though you might find the reading material to be dry.”

Yona swallows. “No, Father, thank you. I think I’ll just go back to bed. I’ll be fine.”

“If you need anything else—”

“I will,” says Yona. “Thank you.”

His smile is as she remembers it, but she can’t get it out of her head as she leaves his room. Something seems amiss, no matter how much she tries to convince herself this is how it ought to be—this is how it is .

Unsettled, Yona bypasses her room once more to instead looking for Soowon and Hak. The moon watches her from its perch in the sky, higher than she thinks it should be at this hour.

Neither man is sitting where she left them, though the sake bottle and cups remain. Yona kneels and touches a rim. It nearly drops to the grass below when she takes off running once more.

She finds Hak easily enough when she bursts into the throne room for the second time that night. Her friend stands at the edge of the dais, looking down the shallow steps that lead beneath the throne room. There’s that feeling again, of being unsettled, as Yona watches Hak reach a hand out towards the door’s crest.

“Don’t go in there,” she pleads. “Please don’t go inside.”

Hak turns his head to look at her, an eyebrow raising quizzically. Yona herself would also like to know what’s going on with her. Something about the shrine is calling to her, a hook in her gut reeling her in, but she has her feet planted firmly. She shouldn’t go inside, nor should Hak. What if neither of them leave?

She doesn’t know why that’s a fear of hers—or maybe she does, and she’s denying it to the bitter end.

“Princess?”

“Just don’t go in,” she says, soft hands curling into fists. “We need to find Soowon.”

“We need to?”

“Yes.” Why? What’s so important? “Right now.”

Hak blinks at her, his brow furrowing with concern he rarely lets show. “Princess, he’s probably—”

“I don’t care where he probably is!” Yona snaps. Adrenaline is feeding into her veins, setting her on edge with nowhere to go. “Will you help me or not?”

She doesn’t wait to hear his answer because she knows he will always follow her. Always. No matter where life may take her outside these palace walls.

Soowon, however, will not. They check the guest wing, his room, the gardens he so enjoys, even the shooting range. Every item crossed off their list of possibilities drives Yona further into something she can’t fully comprehend. It feels like nervousness, but more, as if she won’t ever be able to get back what it is she’s on the brink of losing.

“Princess,” says Hak when they leave the kitchen, “Why are you so desperate?”

Yona comes to a halt, the hem of her gown clean despite her rushing about carelessly.

She’s afraid, she realizes, that something terrible will happen if she lets Soowon out of her sight.

“I just want to be sure,” says Yona, her voice too soft and too gentle to really express this fear. She looks up at Hak, whose face is smooth and clean as his hands, calloused as they are but free of dirt. He’s trying to mask his worry again.

“Soowon is safe,” says Hak, but he sounds uncertain. Yona can’t remember the last time she heard such a thing in his voice, or if she ever had.

Swallowing hard, Yona repeats, “I just want to be sure.”

She whisks back around and down the hall, where candlelight flickers like liquid over the polished wood. If she allows it, a thought comes to her—paper and wood walls lighting up in flames. Not this lifetime , she thinks to herself, as if there’s any other life in which such a thing might happen.

They’ve nearly searched the entire sprawling palace when Yona hears voices different from the hushed conversation between guards. She and Hak round a corner near the war room just as the doors open to allow Soowon and General Yuhon to exit. Soowon’s attention is fixed on his father, who has a hand on his shoulder.

“You’ll do well,” the general says in that rough voice that only Soowon ever seemed to take with affection.

Then he turns to see Hak and Yona watching. Her uncle bows, the scars of his face falling into sharp relief, before passing them.

His clothes are clean and untarnished, as if they’d never seen war. Yona fixates on this more than she should, just as she can’t get the image of General Yuhon with hair flecked through with more grey than she remembers. This is not a man she knows.

When she turns back around, Soowon is watching the receding back of his father with a strange expression. His lips are slightly parted, as if unsure whether to grimace or smile, and his eyes are heavy-lidded. To Yona, it’s a bittersweet look. There should be no reason for Soowon to wear such an expression.

His eyes meet Yona’s, and his smile is a sad one. “What a sweet dream this has been.”

The back of her throat aches something fierce, her eyes burn, but no tears come. She won’t; she can’t.

The moon’s gaze is silver here, and Hak drinks with a different man. Her father occupies the same halls as her uncle. The country is at peace.

And it’s wrong.

“So it is,” whispers Yona.

Soowon doesn’t hear her—that or he chooses not to. She doesn’t blame him. Something in her yearns to cling to this façade, lest the fear and anger take over again, as it had before. This dream is a cruel one.

What could have been, had it not been for—

No—for now, this is real. Yona squeezes her eyes shut as Soowon rests a hand on her shoulder, and then he’s gone. The air is cool where his hand laid. Nobody says good night.

Hak follows Yona all the way to her room, coming to a stop as she enters alone. She stands in the middle of all her finery and comfort, the windows open to allow cool moonlight to touch the shadows where warm candlelight cannot. Systematically, Yona snuffs all the candles prepared for her until it’s only the night sky that lights her room.

It’s too quiet. There are far less crickets here, no owls or raccoons or other creatures of the night to forage about while she tries to sleep. The floor itself is soft beneath softer feet. She has no idea what stones feel like under her heels.

She has so much space, but it’s smothering her. Changing out of her day clothes into her thinner nightgown—even shedding the hairpin and bangle—does nothing to assuage the sensation.

When she goes to her door, Hak is still standing outside as if he has plans to guard her the whole night. He looks down when the door opens and their gazes meet—exhausted, both of them.

“Stay with me?”

He doesn’t argue, and the door shuts behind him. Yona crawls into her bed hesitantly, as if the material might swallow her whole. The bed dips with Hak’s weight as he settles alongside her. Already she feels his heat permeating through the barrier of her nightgown as he allows the distance between them to shrink further than any reality might dare.

Yona tries to gain comfort from his nearness, but her heart is constricting and her mouth is dry and her eyes are burning.

“Hak,” she whispers, “whose fault is it? That everything fell apart?” How is it that this future is a false one? “Is it my father’s for leading wrong? Is it mine, that I was blind to Soowon’s pain?”

Something heavy settles over Yona’s waist—she recognizes it as Hak’s arm just as he pulls her to him. His chest burns her back.

“Nothing happened because of you,” says Hak, his voice rumbling between their bodies. Yona closes her eyes as if she might be able to soak in the sound. “It’s happened to you. It’s happened to all of us.”

Not daring to speak, Yona can only respond with a jerky nod. Hak’s arm curls tighter around her. She feels his breath in her hair.

She wonders if should a different morning come, he might stay this way with her.

She wonders if this isn’t the dream.

She wonders what it is she hopes for.

With the scent of a far off festival in her nose, and the heat of another body at her back, Yona has to admit that this truly is bittersweet.

When Yona wakes up— really wakes up—it’s to the canopy of a tent and sweat dewing at her brow. Her limb is heavy as lead when she lifts it to brush the moisture from her skin. Her throat is dry and begging for water. Cautious of her weakness, Yona pushes herself to sit up. Nuts that had been framing her face fall into the dip left by her head. Everything is cast in a hazy amber glow—sunlight filtering through the thinned patches of the tent’s fabric.

She catches something dark in her periphery and looks over to see Hak. Like her, he’s practically swaddled in blankets and sweating. Yona wonders if her face looks as gaunt. Reaching over, she rests her palm on his forehead. While clammy, he doesn’t seem to be burning up.

Her lip wobbles. She’s glad— so glad.

But she’s also sad, in that heavy, all encompassing way that presses in and sticks, even when there’s a reason to smile and laugh. Heat is at her eyes, but she breathes in deep and doesn’t let it spill over.

The tent flap flings open, allowing unfiltered sunlight to stream in around the silhouette of a familiar friend. When he notices Yona is upright, Yoon nearly bowls her over in his attempt to get her to lie back down.

“You still need to rest,” he insists, setting a bowl of soup in her lap when it’s clear she isn’t about to go back to sleep willingly.

“I’ve rested long enough,” says Yona. She pauses before asking, “How long exactly…?”

“A full day.” Yoon purses his lips as he presses a hand to her forehead. “Your fever broke, but you shouldn’t push yourself.”

“I’m not,” says Yona with a wry smile. “I promise. How’s Hak?”

Yoon looks to their juggernaut warrior. “He caught sick shortly after you. If I’m being honest, he probably hid it until you decided to make camp and then collapse.”

“At least I stopped this time?” attempts Yona sheepishly.

Yoon levels her with a stern glare. “It’s a step up, I’ll admit. Next time, you’d better tell me if you’re feeling even the tiniest bit out of sorts. Got it?”

“Got it,” says Yona meekly.

“Good.”

Yoon leaves her to her supper. Yona hears him bark at someone to stop playing with their food. It’s familiar, safe, and welcoming. She’s here and lucid and with her family. As it should be.

But she gazes at the reflection in her gently rippling soup, at her chopped and messy hair, at her clammy skin and weary eyes, at the tough calloused fingers holding the bowl still. It doesn’t matter how content she is in the moment, she knows this.

There will always be something more happening, drawing them in, putting them in danger.

Yona thinks of the bangle decorated with dragon scales. She should be happy that she has her precious family with her now, beside her and more just beyond that tent flap. She should be happy they still exist in the presence of each other, with bonds forged stronger than any she could have dreamed.

Yet she can’t help but feel the loss of a life of peace. The heat and the ache intensify, and there’s nothing Yona can do any longer to keep the tears at bay.

#akatsuki no yona #anyfic #yona of the dawn

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fearofaherobrine · 6 years

Text

Roleplay Server Log #306

“Traveler Reset, The Gods blessings, a Few Good Mobs”

[Traveler] Staggers into the castle and slams the door to the shrine behind her before making her way painfully down to the kitchen.

[Deer] Is preparing lunch- Oh, Traveller, are you alright?

[Traveller] Yeah, I'm... - her poncho is torn where Steve kicked her and her front is covered in blood from the wound. She twitches suddenly, obviously glitiching.

[Deer] - No your not, I'll get Doc

[Traveller] Staggers a little and catches herself on the table-

[Deer] Calls for Doc in the chat and says it's urgent-

[Doc] Runs in with Yaunfen in tow, both of them are splattered with colorful dye splotches- What's happening?!

[Yaunfen] - Mama!

[Traveler] Slumps to the floor, out cold-

[Deer] - Traveller!- She goes around the table to the fallen NOTCH

[Doc] Shit! How did this happen?

[Deer] - I don't know!

[Doc] Pulls her clothing back and draws back suddenly as the wound sparks- She's errored!

[Deer] - How?

[Doc] All the blood drains from hir face. - It's... it's like what happened to me... who did this? - Xe shakes out hir inventory and starts melting items, trying to get enough raw bits to fill the crackling gash in Traveler's chest-

[Deer] - I don't know, but I'll ask in chat- She sends out a message asking who was with Traveler last

-There's no answer because TLOT and Steve have both snuck off to sleep-

[Deer] - Nobody is responding...

[Doc] I wonder if Mb did this... I know he can disrupt code. But why would he fight with her? - Xe's filling up the gaps and the sparking is decreasing.

[Deer] - You'd think he'd be gloating about it if he did do it

[Doc] Good point. I like to think Celine is keeping him out of the worst mischief. She's a good little dragon. Dammit... I'm going to have to strip a few lines of her code and reload them. She's gonna be out for a while.

[Deer] - I'll set up the recovery room

[Doc] I hate to say it, but it might be easier for Nessie to reset her. I really dread asking her for anything though.

[Deer] - Would it go over more smoothly if we had Markus with us?

[Doc] I'm going to try and do this myself first. It'll be the same, just take a bit longer.

[Deer] - If you're sure... Be safe...

[Doc] Just help me move her-

[Deer] - Yes, absolutely

[Doc] Actually wait. I have a better idea. Yaunfen? Would you like to help?

[Yaunfen] - Help?

[Doc] We have to take her with us, and that includes into a castle of sorts. Can you carry her in your dragon shape? You should be big enough now.

[Yaunfen] - Really!?

[Doc] Proudly- Yes. You're just the help I need today.

[Yaunfen] - Yes! Yes!

[Doc] At Deerheart- You should still help me get her outside though.

[Deer] - Of course

[Yaunfen] Bounces around-

-The two working togeather maneuver the prone NOTCH outside the house-

[Doc] Your turn kiddo.

[Yaunfen] Shifts into dragon form-

[Doc] Helps load Traveler onto their back. - Now you just have to walk gently so she doesn't fall. I'll stay by you and keep her steady. We have to go to the cage and through into TLOT's seed.

[Yaunfen] - Okay Mada!

[Doc] Are you staying here Deerheart? Or going with us?

[Deer] - I'll stay here

[Doc] Okay. I don't blame you. Nessie is is a bit overbearing

[Deer] - I still wish you'd take Markus with you if only to speed things along

[Doc] She wants him to stay with them, I think taking him would make it take longer actually. Plus it would make Flux mad. Why do you think he should go?

[Deer] - Because Traveler needs to be healed quickly... And if CP or Lie went with you they might be able to keep it from dragging on to long afterwards...

[Doc] Okay okay, I'll ask him.

[Deer] Kisses Doc's cheek- Be safe

[Doc] We will. Come on Yaunfen, lets go.

[Yaunfen] - Let's go! Let's go!

-The two make their way gingerly down the hill and down towards Lie's house-

[Lie] Is outside letting her vulpix's and Hope run around-

[Doc] Waves to Lie and taps on Markus's door-

[Lie] Waves back-

[Yaunfen] Is doing their best to stay still-

[Notch] Peeks out and sees the bloody mess Yaunfen is carrying- Oh gods! Is she...?

[Doc] No, she's just errored, and out cold. We're not even sure how she got hurt. We're taking her to be reset. Do you want to come with us? You can basically order Lady Nessie to do it just because you said so.

[Notch] I guess?

[Lie] - You guys are heading to the other seed?

[Notch] It looks like it.

[Lie] - Could I come along? Maybe a change of scene might help me...- She spawns a couple of healing flowers under Yaunfen out of habit

[Doc] If you want. It's going to be cold though.

[Notch] greeeat.

[Lie] - I'll get my cloak- She herds her vulpix's and Hope inside and returns with her cloak around her shoulders

[Notch] Fluffs his own red cloak - I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

[Yaunfen] - Mada she getting heavy!

[Doc] Okay, we'll hurry. I know you're not used to carrying anyone. It's this way- xe leads them across the yard and down into the cage-

[Lie] Stays near Notch- Let's go see the cold bitch

[Doc] Opens the way and the cold air blows into the cage- It's not far-

[Yaunfen] Shivers a little and tentatively steps into the snow-

-It isn't long before the temple is in sight and the guards send one of their own to fetch the lady. The remaining one opens the gate and bids them come in out of the snow. The passageway has a high ceiling and it's evening where they are-

[Monk] Is watching the dragon curiously-

[Lie] Draws her cloak closer, her glow still somewhat dim-

[Nessie] Stalks down the hallway. Her demenor instantly shifting to obsequeoius as she spots Markus. - My lord. Too what do we owe this visit?

[Doc] A mission of mercy. Our friend needs to be reset.

[Monk] Brushes Yaunfen's tail tip out of curiousity-

[Nessie] Eyeballs Yaunfen and hir load-

[Yaunfen] Jumps a little- Mada...

[Doc] Gives the monk a stern look-

[Monk] It talked!

[Doc] Scowls- That's my child you're reffering too.

[Nessie] How interesting.

[Lie] Puts a gentle hand on Yaunfen- It's okay Yaunfen, they're just curious

[Nessie] Well lets get your patient on a soft surface at least. - She gestures towards an open doorway where some couches are visible.

[Yaunfen] Looks at Doc for reassurance-

[Doc] Come on, I'm sure you want to put her down.

[Yaunfen] Follows Doc into the other room-

[Doc] Helps slide Traveller onto the couch. As she flops the Nether star around her neck is revealed under her torn clothing-

[Nessie] practically shrieks- THIEF!

[Lie] Quietly to Notch- May have forgotten about that...

[Notch] Fuck.

[Nessie] Explain this!

[Doc] Oh I don't know. You're not the only one who has one...

[Yaunfen] - Shiny!

[Nessie] Is fuming.

[Lie] - Lady Nessie please, this is a NOTCH, one which needs healing.

[Notch] Tries to adopt a more commanding tone- Do it because I request it.

[Nessie] Goes silent. - Sir...

[Doc] She just needs a reset, you can see she's hurt.

[Lie] Smirks a little and speaks mentally to Notch- Not quite dad voice but close enough

[Yaunfen] Starts sniffing around at everything-

-the room is full of couches, chairs and mats for meditating. There are several potted plants-

[Lie] - Do you need any of us to do anything?

[Nessie] Looks annoyed - No.

[Yaunfen] Switches to their human form and tugs on Doc's coat- Mada I'm cold...

[Doc] Whispers to Lie- It's a really simple move but if you do it wrong you can accidently delete someone, and it can kill a glitch... Huh? Oh... Here. Take my coat. - Xe slips off hir labcoat and puts it around Yaunfen before putting hir gloves back on. Hir chest underneath is male and xe has an orange shirt today.

[Lie] - Oh, I see...

[Yaunfen] Happily snuggles into the coat-

[Nessie] Rearranges Traveler and pulls one of her shoes off.

[Lie] Presses a bit closer to Notch, the thought of not having a shoe on in this cold making her foot feel cold-

[Notch] Puts an arm around her in a fatherly way-

[Nessie] Puts one finger under the femalt NOTCHs foot and pokes her with two fingers in the temple-

-There's a buzzing noise and a few sparks-

[Yaunfen] Tries to get closer-

[Traveler] Goes entirely black for a moment as Nessie moves back. She flickers into existence again as she was, but now mended.

[Yaunfen] Is completely fascinated-

[Lie] - Traveler?

[Traveler] Blinks- Where..? Oh gods! - She sits up quickly-

[Nessie] Leans forward to scowl at her- Why did you steal from our shine?!

[Yaunfen] - No glitch!?

[Doc] Looks - Well she does have a scar now... It kinda looks like mine.

[Traveler] Because you didn't know what you had!

[Nessie] Bristles- It was ours!

[Notch] What did she steal?

[Lie] - Lady Nessie, there's no point in arguing this... All the items have been replaced

[Nessie] Our grass block given by our Notch!

[Lie] - Yes, and I gave you one on behalf of my father in law for the Notch you now worship

[Nessie] Bristles some more- She's still a thief. Get her out of here! - pauses- Please.

[Traveler] Gladly.

[Lie] Looks at Notch- You ready to go?

[Doc] Fine. Thank you for fixing her at least.

[Traveler] Take me back to my Herobrine please.

[Notch] Yeah

[Nessie] But sir...

[Notch] This was an errand of mercy. I told you before I'm not staying.

[Yaunfen] - He has to go home to Big Fire!

[Nessie] Big fire?

[doc] Oh dear....

[Lie] - My husband, his son

[Nessie] Flatly. - I see

[Traveler] Is staring Doc down-

[Doc] I'm going I'm going!

[Lie] Starts turning to leave when she stops, making an odd face-

[Notch] You okay there?

[Lie] Sneezes, and since Notch is touching her, he gets pulled along in the sneeze teleport-

[Doc] What the fuck?

[Yaunfen] - They gone!?

[Doc] I keep forgetting that can happen.

[Nessie] Where have they gone?

[Doc] I'm not sure...

[Yaunfen] - Big Fire will be mad...

[Doc] Yeah, I think so too.

[Traveler] Are you going to take me back or what?

[Nessie] Go and find the Supreme Notch! If any harm befalls him...

[Doc] Don't threaten me.

[Yaunfen] - He has shield!

[Nessie] What does that mean?

[Traveler] Yeah....

[Doc] He has powers from what we gave to turn him digital.

[Yaunfen] - He can also talk REALLY loud, it makes Big Fire stop doing things

[Doc] That's one way to put it.

[Nessie] He can order brines about?

[Doc] Just the one...

[Traveler] Is spinnning a knife.

[Doc] We should go-

[Yaunfen] - And get Big Fire?

[Doc] Yes... - starts leading them out

[Traveler] Shoves a monk away from the front door and stamps out into the snow

[Doc] Please calm down...

[Yaunfen] Reaches up towards Doc-

[Doc] Picks them up and holds them close before opening a portal to the cage.

[Traveler] Imediately races through and is away before Doc is hardly into the room.

[Yaunfen] - Mada where we look for Big Fire at?

[Doc] His house and quickly. - Xe runs at a decent trot with the child in hir arms and calls out for Cp once they reach the outside-

[CP] Had just gotten home, covered in blood and wounds- The fuck do you want?

[Doc] Yeah... uh... kinda need your nose....

[CP] - For what? Can't you find anything on this server? You like to demonstrate that often enough

[Doc] I sorta lost Lie... and Markus...

[CP] - ... YOU LOST MY WIFE!?

[Doc] She sneeze teleported! And I had to get Traveler back here before she started a fight with Lady Nessie!

[CP] - WHAT THE FUCK WERE ALL OF YOU DOING OVER THERE!

[Doc] Somebody fucked up Traveler enough that she had to be reset!

[CP] - So Steve's little kick actually did something?

[Doc] Steve did that?! HOW? The only wound I've ever seen like that was the one Mb gave me! It nearly killed me!

[CP] - I was a little focused on fighting Stevie!

[Yaunfen] - Mada are we going back?

[Doc] Yes. We have to find Lie. But You don't have to be human and we won't be walking. You can just ride me.

[Yaunfen] - Okay Mada

[CP] - Let's go already!

[Lie] Her sneeze teleport lands them in a forest and the lights from a nearby village are visible. It takes them a moment to orient themselves and Lie realizes that she accidentally brought Notch along- Shit, sorry Notch, did not mean to drag you along... Hell I didn't even know I could do that...

[Notch] I'm less worried about that then the fact that it's getting dark!

[Lie] - There's a village right over there, but...- She looks at Notch

[Notch] I've got the same problem as you, but from the other end. Wait- He combs his mop of hair down over his eyes- I'll just look down.

[Lie] - We can try, but be ready to throw your shield up if necessary- She starts making her way towards the village

[Notch] Follows her grimly- The only other option is hiding till dawn so-

-There are a few last villagers outside hastily setting up some torches-

[Lie] - Um, hello?

-The villagers are surprised, but word of the gods and goddesses had reached this tiny village-

[MalVillager] - Goddess...

[Lie] - We seek shelter for the night, do you have a building to spare?

[MalVillager] - Well yes, but who is this with you?

[Notch] I'm her father in law... Mark.

[MalVillager] - Father in law? So would that make you?

[Lie] - Yes, he is the father of the God of War

[MalVillager] Pales a little having heard of the ferocity of the God of War and wonders what sort of person is the man who "sired" him-

[Notch] We just need shelter from the mobs, we're not looking for trouble.

[MalVillager] - Uh, yes, we can give the Goddess and her father in law the large house in the center of town, where it's safest

[Lie] - That's not necessary

[MalVillager] - Goddess please, we insist!

[Notch] We'll be gone at dawn. And I don't want to put anyone out....

[MalVillager] - No, I insist!- He begins leading them. The village isn't in the best condition, it's obviously been attacked by zombies a number of times

[Lie] speaks mentally to Notch- We should do something for them before we leave in the morning...

[Notch] I'm still in creative. What would you suggest?

[Lie] - Perhaps a small wall? This place seems to get hit by zombies often...

[Notch] Okay, as soon as it's light. I hope the others aren't freaking out too much

[Lie] - I'm sure Doc is probably worried... I hope they didn't tell CP... That probably won't end well for hir...

[Doc] is flying with Yaunfen on hir shoulders. - Fuck.. it's already night...!

[CP] His worry for his wife is palpable-

[Doc] Is dipping towards the trees and sniffing around- For once I wish these were your mobs-

[CP] - I mean, with a bit of time I could make them so

[Doc] Yeah... don't do that. I think TLOT would be really pissed about that. Especially since the zombies here hate his guts.

[Yaunfen] Is watching the land under them- I see booms!

[CP] - You're only making it more tempting to do so

[Doc] Can already feel a headache forming- Don't you have enough responsibilities already Cp?!

[CP] - I just lost a bunch of them

[Doc] And I'm sorry that happened, but having an army didn't help you before. Why would you want to have one again?!

[CP] Shrugs-

[Doc] FINE. When we've got Lie and Notch you can grab a bunch of mobs and take them back with us, and you can distract yourself whipping them into shape! But NO ZOMBIES. And no skeletons either of any kind!

[CP] Gives Doc a suspicious look, not sure what they are up to-

[Doc] Mutters a bit and keeps looking. The night is almost half over already.

[Lie] Is woken by loud groans outside and she moves to nudge Notch awake- Hey, wake up

[Notch] Hmm? Oh, dumb zombies...

[Lie] - They sound really close...

[Notch] Gets a weird smile- You know... I'm still in creative. I could just go out there and start driving them off.

[Lie] - And start spreading rumors about how strong the god of war's father is? That will drive Cp nuts when he finds out

[Notch] Snickers- And how many times has he griefed me?

[Lie] - Touche

[Notch] You want to help?

[Lie] - Sure, I'll start setting up more light sources

[Notch] Pulls up the menu with some difficulty and starts getting out diamond armor. - no need to be stupid about it. Would you like some?

[Lie] - No, I'll stay back far enough. You're in creative though, you shouldn't need armor

[Notch] Well it still hurts if I get hit Lie.

[Lie] - Fair enough, let's go

[Notch] Pulls out a diamond sword - ready when you are.

[Lie] Opens the door and eyes the horde approaching the village- We need to move fast

[Notch] Dashes out, hiding behind houses and making his way to the closest zombie. He practically pounces on it and swats it out of existence-

[Lie] Begins focusing and lantern flowers begin forming around her, spreading out on nearly every available surface along with lush foliage-

-Some villagers had awoken at the sound of zombies, scared that it would be their final night and are now waking the others to watch what is happening outside-

[Notch] Is doing pretty well considering he hasn't any formal training apart from playing a crap-ton of Minecraft. Though he can't help but show his face in the melee, and the light catches in his black on black eyes. -

[Lie] Hears some of the gasps from the villagers as they recognize what Notch is and the whispers as the word spreads. She begins walking through the village to form more flowers and to keep an eye on Notch-

[Notch] Is also throwing down cobbles with his other hand to make a messy barrier as he traverses the outskirts of the village-

[Lie] Lets her offensive pods begin claiming what wall Notch has set up. A villager nervously steps outside-

[FemVillager] - Goddess... That man, he's... He's...

[Lie] - The original Notch and my husbands father, I assure you he means no harm. He hid his visage so as not to scare you

[FemVillager] - I wish to trust your word on that Goddess but...- She shrieks as a zombie rounds the corner, coming straight for them

[Lie] Shoves the testificate inside and takes the brunt of the zombie's attack- Notch!

[Notch] Charges up and whacks the undead over the head with his sword, involuntarily making a little hi-ya! type yell.

[Lie] Jut stares at him for a second- Did... Did you just?

[Notch] Is red faced and panting- Yeah, yeah... I'm immature. This is a bit exciting though.

[Lie] Laughs a little, the first time since the incident on the other server, okay... Well, the horde should be almost gone...

[Notch] Good. I'll need some help shoring up the crappy half-a- wall I laid down

[Lie] - Just give me some stone, I've got offensive pods where you've started, they wont bite you and will move aside for you

[Notch] Rustles around and passes her a few stacks -I'll look for the gate. I can never remember where it is in the menu.

[Lie] - Redstone

[Notch] Right... - It's getting steadilly lighter out-

[Lie] Heads out to the edge of the village and starts working on the wall, her offensive pods taking out the last few mobs-

[Notch] Helps her working from the other direction and installs a gate on either side of the small hamlet-

-The villagers have come outside and are watching the two build. A few rush inside and gather some food-

[Notch] Conjures an apple from creative and chews on it while he works, he hasn't noticed the others are up yet-

-A child testificate nervously approaches-

[Child] - Ummm...

[Notch] Forgets and looks directly at them. - Hello?

[Child] Flinches back a little, but does hold out a meager tray of food- Ummm, h-here...

[Lie] Approaches to see what's happening-

[Notch] Oh! I'm fine. Thank you though. How about I give you something instead? - he pulls out a bunch of cookies and holds them out. - Just share them with the other kids. Okay?

[Child] Their eyes go wide at the sight of the treats-

[Lie] Nudges Notch and motions towards the village. It's obvious that the small tray of food being offered to them was more food then the village could afford to offer- I'll start planting

[Child] Carefully takes the cookies and rushes back towards the others-

[Notch] They are kind of in the middle of nowhere here.

[Lie] - Do you want to build a pen for some animals for them?

[Notch] Sure! - He starts pulling out fence pieces. - I wonder why they didn't already have a garden area? Maybe this village didn't spawn correctly.

[Lie] - It's very likely. They don't seem to have a library or a smith either- She's weaving her powers through the ground, springing up a thick and flourishing garden

[Notch] Looks around- Or a well... make sure you do the water rows in bettween the crops.

[Lie] - Yeah- She heads over to the garden and spawns water buckets to fill the trenches

-An elderly testificate approaches Notch once Lie steps away-

[ElderlyVillager] - Are you truly a Notch?

[Notch] Kinda? I'm the original.

[ElderlyVillager] - But you protected us... The last we heard was that the god king had destroyed the NOTCH

[Notch] Well you know how my son, your warrior god, also has white eyes like your Lord of Tears? The're both the same type of entity. It's like that. The native NOTCH here was destroyed and he absolutely deserved it.

[ElderlyVillager] - The god of war and his peaceful wife, they've become well known... I suppose it makes sense that his father is also skilled in fighting

[Notch] Eh, he's better at it then me. - He takes off his helmet and his hair expands with a messy 'fump'.

[ElderlyVillager] - Then what role do you play?

[Notch] Me? I made the- he almost said game- world. We had a team of helpers but it was mostly Jeb and I.

[ElderlyVillager] - The angel? You are the one who worked with him?

[Notch] Yeah. We've been friends for a long time.

[ElderlyVillager] - Then we shall spread word of your presence and your relation to the god of War

[Notch] Oh no, don't do that. This world belongs to your Herobrine. I don't want to undermine him or confuse people. I'm just passing through.

[ElderlyVillager] - But you hold such a prominent role! You should be known just as well as the angel!

[Notch] Yeah, but there are people here who still worship the old NOTCH. I know it makes your Lord uncomfortable for people to praise the name of someone who tortured him and his loved ones. It's not my real name anyway. I told you a half-truth last night. My name is Markus.

[ElderlyVillager] - But that could be corrected

[Notch] Sets his mouth in a hard line. - Only if you use my real name instead of my title. I don't live here and I have no right to claim power in any fashion.

[ElderlyVillager] - It shall be done

[Lie] Heads back towards Notch- Everything alright over here?

[Notch] whispers to Lie- Yeah I got outed... but I think it's handled.

[Lie] - Are you sure you don't want to borrow my cloak?

[Notch] I think it's s bit late for that- he pulls out an egg and spawns some cows into the pen-

[Lie] - If your sure

[ElderlyVillager] Looks at what the two have done for the village- It's seems word of the gods generosity is true, our little village has never deserved something like this and yet you gave it without hesitation

[Notch] Everybody deserves safety and food. I'm sorry this build generated without some of the things you needed, it happens sometimes.

[ElderlyVillager] - We shall honor both of you specifically from hence forth here

[Lie] - That's not necessary

[Notch] I know you can't afford it, there's no need. Just heed your Herobrine's dictate to be kind to one another and that will be more then enough.

[ElderlyVillager] - No, please let us, we shall tend to the Goddess' garden carefully and these cows shall be sacred and used only for their milk

[Notch] you know if you give them wheat tufts you'll get more cows right?

[ElderlyVillager] - Oh of course, but these you've given us will be tended for carefully, their offspring shall provide food however

[Notch] Looks around - Something special... I've got an idea! - he rustles around and pulls out a sapling - I'll make you a special tree. Then you can decorate it if you want. Something totally unique for this biome. Where would be a good spot?

[ElderlyVillager] Looks around- There isn't much room inside the village, but what about just outside the gate?

[Notch] Can do. - He grins at Lie, it's obvious he's up to something as he heads for the gate

[Lie] Gives him a slightly suspicious look and follows him-

-The villagers all watch curiously, looking to their elder to explain what is happening-

[Notch] Gets a few steps outside the wall and taps the sapling so there are four in a square and then hits them with fistfuls of bonemeal. There's a rather organic groan and a massive jungle tree springs up, already coated with vines and chunky cocoa pods.

[Lie] Smiles a little- Well it certainly is exotic...

-The villagers are slowly filing out the gate to stare in awe at the tree-

[Notch] Smiles hugely- And now everyone can have cookies too.

[Doc] Is getting a little tired and stops for a moment on a rocky promintory.

[CP] - Why are you stopping?

[Doc] Just give me a minute. I've got a rider and I'm half starved as it is. - Xe pulls out a pawful of carrots and scarfs them noisily.

[Yaunfen] - Mada? Cookies?

[Doc] Looks like I'm out. I have some [redstone] whip wheels, a sugar quartz block and a chocolate nut bar [the bread loaf in their texture pack] - Xe offers them up.

[Yaunfen] - Sugar! Sugar!- Takes the giant block and starts licking it, getting little pixels of sugar all over Doc's mane

[CP] - Can we go?

[Doc] Gets distracted by some odd looking stone- Just a minute... - Xe scratches at the blocks with hir claws-

[CP] - What are you doing now?

[Doc] Is bleped with concentration- I'm mining- The blocks pop away and a bunch of stone bits with writing and bones clatter to the ground and suck into hir inventory. - How odd...

[CP] - Let's go!

[Doc] Is looking around - Actually, I say we go that way. - points

[CP] - Why?

[Doc] Because theres a gigantic jungle tree in the middle of that plains biome.

[CP] Is slowly catching on fire-

[Doc] Takes off towards it without a word as to his flaming attire-

[Yaunfen] - Big fire is getting firey Mada!

[CP] Follows after them-

[Doc] Yeah, he does that. He's having a bit of a temper tantrum. Take it as an example of how not to act. - Doc charges down from the sky and thumps onto the grassy biome with all four feet.

[CP] Is scanning the village from the air-

[Notch] Looks up- Doc!

[Doc] Hey, we found you. Looks like you've been busy.

[Lie] Smiles and prepares for CP's embrace as he zips towards her-

[Notch] Hops sideways to avoid Cp's charge towards Lie.

[CP] Grabs Lie and brings her into an embrace, sweeping her up into the sky-

[Lie] - It's alright CP, I'm safe and healthy

-The villagers nervously hide by their houses at the sight of the dragons-

[Doc] Loafs to look less threatening. - Been keeping busy?

[Notch] They were nice to us, so we helped them out.

[Lie] - They spawned lacking a number of things

[Doc] It sounds like the two of you could use a break... How about I send you back?

[Lie] - Yes, please

[Doc] Swishes open a hole with hir tail and the inside of the cage is visible-

[Notch] waves to the villagers and heads through the opening.

[Doc] Get some rest.

[Notch] I will. I'm betting Flux is wondering where the hell I am.

[Flux] Is waiting in the cage for them-

[CP] Puts Lie down and watches her go through-

[Doc] Closes the hole and looks at the cluster of villagers.

[ElderlyVillager] Steps forwards- Welcome God of War, God of healing

[CP] - What do you want?

[Doc] Gives a respectful nod, - I'd change back to my more human shape but I'm carrying my child.

[Yuanfen] - Hi!!!!

[ElderlyVillager] - I understand, we seem to be blessed to be visited by so many gods in one day

[Doc] Well we were looking for them, we got seperated.

[ElderlyVillager] - I see, well you are welcome to visit anytime

[CP] - Doc! Let's go!

[Doc] Thank you. I wish you all well. - turns to follow Cp. - So where do we go first? Cave or Nether?

[CP] - Nether

[Doc] Heads away from the village and pulls out some obsidian, looking for a place to put it where no one will wander in-

[Yaunfen] - Where we going Mada?

[CP] - We don't need a portal Doc, I can teleport us there

[Doc] Oh right.... Yaunfen? It's where Gk was spawned. It's really hot, and the mobs are rude. So you need to cling on tight and not get seperated from me.

[Yaunfen] - Okay Mada- They snuggle in closer to Doc's mane

[CP] Touches Doc and teleports them to the Nether, the blast of hot air comforting for the fire based brine

[Doc] Yuck... It always smells like nasty eggs in the Nether. - Xe's scanning around for any structures. - There's a fortress over there.

[CP] Just casually strolls in that direction, not concerned about anything-

[Yaunfen] - Mada I'm too hot...

[Doc] Yeah. It's always like this. It's one reason I tend to avoid it. If you feel like panting, just do so, it'll help you cool down.

[Yaunfen] - But that makes my mouth dry

[Doc] Well there's no water here. It just evaporates. Oh, but I might be able to... - Xe drags a block of packed ice from the creative and slings it up on hir shoulders in front of them- That's a little better

[Yaunfen] Wraps themselves around the ice-

[Doc] Trots along the shore of a massive lava lake and stops suddenly, hir gasp is audible

[CP] Glances back- What?

[Doc] Something I've only seen through someone elses eyes...

-Far from the shore there's a thin promontory with a crude throne at the top. The muted light of the lava glints off two discarded golden swords and the whole ediface is streaked downward on either side with the stains of old blood like a sacrifical altar.

[CP] - Well that's not natural

[Yaunfen] - Mada I don't like it...

[Doc] I don't either. And thankfully the horrible creature who set it up is dust or less now.

[CP] - TLOT's NOTCH?

[Doc] Nods grimly - This is why he's afraid.

[CP] - Let's keep going

[Doc] Gladly, although... you could do him a favor. Just in case he ever has to come here again.

[CP] - What makes you think that's going to happen?

[Doc] Because I want you to break that. Throw it all into the lava.

[CP] Shrugs and flies over to the throne. It doesn't take much for him to completely destroy the throne and let it sink deep into the lava-

[Doc] Thank you. I want his NOTCH to be forgotten.

[CP] - Whatever, let's keep going

[Doc] Heads for the stronghold, looking out for any overtly hostile mobs, and stepping carefully around the pigmen and wandering magma cubes.

[CP] Gathers a few of each, using a bit of his coding ability to ensnare them in blank eggs for easy transportation-

[Doc] Is watching - not going to try and talk to them or anything first?

[CP] - Nope

[Doc] Shrugs- Okay then, - Xe squints at something far out on the lake. It looks like a partial fortress because it's made of netherbrick, but it's low to the lava like a boat and isolated from the shore. - Hmm... Overworld next? I assume you have more then enough endermen already.

[CP] - Yeah, I suppose- He heads back over to Doc and teleports the three of them back to the overworld

[Doc] That's better. And Yaunfen, you can just push that block off if you're done with it. My shoulders are going numb.

[Yaunfen] - Okay Mada- They nose it off and it leaves a cold trail down Doc's shoulder

[Doc] Shakes hir head a little. -Blech. My mane is all sticky. I'm taking a bath as soon as we get back. - Xe scratches around in the dirt a little and claws at the stony side of a mountain while waiting for Cp- Picking the best ones Cp?

[CP] - Shut up- He grabs a couple of spiders and finds a cave spider as well. He grabs a couple slimes too

[Doc] Claws up some iron and finds another of the cloudy looking blocks high on the wall. Xe scratches at it and it pops away, dropping a curly shell with the tiny end cracked off - Ooh! Look at this Yaunfen. It's so pretty.

[Yaunfen] - Oooo

[Doc] Hunkers a bit and cranes hir neck at an eyewatering angle that causes some clipping to get the tiny shell near hir lips, xe melts the broken tip and blows into the hole. Making a rather funny honking noise.

[Yaunfen] Giggles- More! More!

[Doc] Here, you try- Passes it up- Make a kind of Pbbbbbbbb with your lips

[Yaunfen] Tries blowing and gets a short honk out-

[CP] Soon returns- Oi, let's go

[Doc] Smiles, knowing Cp won't be too rude to Yaunfen - Look what we found.

[CP] - It's a shell?

[Yaunfen] Still honking-

[Doc] Yeah. It was buried in the wall. This seed has a texture I've never seen before. Kind of a splotchy stone that drops bones and stuff.

[CP] - Well Jeb did say he had installed some mods to try and help TLOT

[Doc] It's different, and I certainly approve. But we're ready to go when you are. Did you find a few good.. mobs?

[CP] - Maybe, we'll see

[Doc] Okay- Xe makes a passage back into the cage and trots through

[CP] Follows through and immediately heads back up to Lie's place-

[Doc] Yaunfen? Can you follow Big Fire and meet me at the opening?

[Yaunfen] - Okay Mada

[Doc] Thank you. - Xe phases through the rock and dirt and scoops up their child again before taking off towards the castle. - You got me all sticky. I need a bath.

[Yaunfen] - We get Mama?

[Doc] Oh yes. I want to show her what we found anyway. - xe calls over the chat for Deerheart to meet them in the back garden-

[Deer] Replies that she'll be there and is already waiting when they arrive-

[Yaunfen] Toots some more on the shell, at one point making a loud farting noise-

-There's some stirring from farther out and a splash-

[Doc] Hir head whips around towards the noise only to yelp at Basil floating like a crocodile right at the shoreline with a baleful expression-

[Deer] - What on earth?

[Doc] Bristles- Basil...?

[Basil] Is eyeballing Yaunfen with a very annoyed look-

[Yaunfen] Toots again-

[Basil] Lifts his jaw and makes a bored hissing noise -

[Deer] - Is it whatever Yaunfen is holding?

[Doc] Maybe? I wonder if he likes the noise? He seems calm.

[Yaunfen] Toot toot toot-

[Basil] Does a slow roll over in the water and puts his huge chin on the shore-

[Deer] Backs away- Ummm, maybe we shouldn't be doing that?

[Doc] Beats me... Maybe we should go in the bay instead. And Yaunfen... just put that away for now. At least don't blow it by the water.

[Yaunfen] - Awwww...

[Deer] - So what are we doing love?

[Doc] Yaunfen got sugar in my hair. I just wanted to go for a swim. Without being menaced by monsters. No offense.

[Basil] Narrowed eyes-

[Deer] - Then let's go swim, I think Lapras may be over there though

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lillotte17 · 7 years

Note

Prompt: Fenris as a toddler

I choose to believe this was also a drawing prompt. >_>

Uthvir belongs to @feynites

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the first word Fenris manages to master is no.

This is followed in quick succession by other such gems; stop, don’t, and down, to name a few. While his progress may still be slower than he would like, he can at least understand most of what people are saying to him, even if he cannot actually get his mouth to form the proper words to reply without butchering them horribly. He might not be winning any awards for poetry any time in the near future, but Fenris can at least take some satisfaction in finally being able to articulate something.

“Ah-lee,” he grumbles out one day while they are getting ready to go on a picnic in one of the little gardens outside of June’s tower, and she is fussing with the buttoning of his little cardigan. She has him perched up on the dresser in her bedroom, which, even after all these months of habitation, is still only sparsely furnished. She sighs at his discontent and pauses long enough to tussle his hair. He scowls in retaliation, pushing her hand away, but she only laughs.

“You’re my baby,” she says with a thin, curling smile, “And babies don’t call their mothers by their name, you know. You say Mamae.”

“Ah-lee,” Fenris insists.

“I know you’ve heard Nanae call me that, but…” she tries.

“Oot-veer,” Fenris counters mulishly.

“Fine,” Aili huffs, giving up the ghost in favor of making another try at the tiny stubborn buttons on her son’s sweater, “Have it your way, you tenacious little creature.”

Fenris pats at her hand consolingly. He is still coming to terms with the unpleasant realization that his body now projects his emotions, and finds that he is not quite able to conceal the hint of pleasure at his victory. Unbidden, the corner of his mouth twitches upwards.

“Is that a smile I see?” Aili beams at him, leaning in perilously close to kissing range.

“No,” Fenris asserts, hastily reforming his features into a frown.

“I think it is,” Aili singsongs with an expression of insufferable triumph, creeping her hands forward and tickling him lightly beneath his chin.

Fenris wriggles, trying to escape, and makes a wholly undignified sound. That is…not entirely born of displeasure. Some strange mix of a shriek and a giggle. Aili relents quickly enough, as she always does, and while he is still caught up in being mortified over the discovery of this new weakness, he looks down and sees that his thrashing has knocked a few of her personal items onto the floor.

“Sorry,” he says, with just the slightest hint of a lisp, pointing down at the displaced objects so she will know what he is apologizing for. And that, he realizes, is a word he seems to be using frequently as well. Because he is sorry, even if some part of him knows that his reactions are not entirely his fault. He is sorry to be here. Sorry that he cannot adjust to things as quickly as he would wish. Sorry to be a burden on what seems to be a generally nice group of people who are trying to include him in their family. Not that he ever seems to be held accountable for his transgressions.

This time is no different, as his adopted mother simply lifts him from the dresser and sets him carefully down on her bed. She smiles at him and smooths his hair down a little before turning around and picking up the things he had knocked to the floor. He thinks the air around her is a little sad, though. If he is reading that correctly. He generally tries not to, as it feels strangely invasive, but he supposes it is a skill he will need to acquire in order to thrive in this strange place.

“No harm done,” Aili assures him in a gentle tone, coming back over to sit next to him with what seems to be some sort of headband in her hand, “It was just an accident. Mama is sorry, too. I know you don’t like to be tickled very much.”

“S’okay,” he returns, slightly uncomfortable at this shift in tone. He reaches over and pats her arm reassuringly once or twice. Touching people to console them is another uncharted territory for him, but it always seems to work wonders with his primary caregivers, Aili especially, so he does his best to at least make an effort.

“You’re my good, sweet baby,” she continues, “And I love you very much. Even when you get upset. Mama and Nanae would never hurt you, even if things get broken sometimes.”

Fenris swallows thickly. Something suspiciously like embarrassment prickles up the back of his neck. Possibly tinged with a softer inclination as well. He shifts his weight a little, glancing about for a quick change of topic.

“Pretty,” he declares, gesturing at the object still in Aili’s hand without even really looking at it.

“You like it?” she wonders, holding it out for him to inspect, “Nanae got it for me. They said it was some sort of belated housewarming gift. I told them it was silly, since we both moved in at the same time, and they could hardly get me a better gift than you, but… Well. They’re always doing things like that. Giving things to people. It makes them happy.”

Fenris looks over the thin circlet with a critical eye. It is a somewhat simple design, some swirling organic pattern carved into a pale blonde wood very similar to Aili’s hair. It is sturdy though, and the craftsmanship is obviously very good, from what little he knows of such things. There is no way this was something Uthvir just bought off a shelf in a moment of random generosity. Clearly it is meant to be something…more. It’s no wonder she seems pleased with it.

And yet he’s almost certain he’s never seen Aili actually wearing it. He doubts that she will have thought of the significance of that. But he is certain Uthvir has.

Fenris huffs.

These two.

“You. On,” he demands, extending it back towards her in one pudgy fist. If he is going to be cooed over, he might as well do something useful with it.

“It’s awfully dressy for a picnic,” she smiles, taking it back from him.

“Pretty,” Fenris insists. Aili laughs.

“Alright,” she concedes, “If you think we should have a fancy day out, then I’ll wear it.”

It takes her a little while to get it just right. She pulls her hair free of its usual ponytail, braids part of it back out of her face, and then settles the circlet onto her head. The piece is open at the front, the twining pieces lifting up just slightly, like a set of horns, and framing the bronze markings on her forehead just so. The overall effect seems to be one of softness, with just a hint of some wild, fey creature.

It suits her.

“Pretty,” Fenris commends.

“Thank you, baby,” Aili grins, leaning over and placing a tiny flower pin in his hair, “Now we’re both fancy.”

Fenris sighs in reluctant acceptance, supposing that he more or less asked for that. Aili seems nearly buoyant when she gathers him up in her arms and grabs their basket of supplies as they head out the door, though. So, he figures it is probably worth it.

Uthvir is taking care of some of their duties for the General, but had promised to meet them for their lunch out on the grass as soon as they were done. Fenris does not like being taken out into the city very much, as none of the elves seem to be able to contain themselves in his presence. If he was physically capable, he is certain that he would have broken some of their fingers by now.

But he can also concede, that he would probably lose his mind if he only saw the inside of their rooms until he was big enough to get around on his own again.

Luckily, his parents are sensitive to his needs and, he suspects, neither of them are all that comfortable with being swarmed by an adoring mob themselves. So, the garden they end up in is relatively small, and almost entirely abandoned. Fenris is not sure why. There are quite a few very ugly statues in it, so perhaps it offends some of the other elves of Arlathan’s delicate sensibilities, or some other such ridiculous thing. He’s not about to complain.

Aili sets up the blanket and sets Fenris up with his bottle. She does not eat herself, possibly waiting for their missing family member to arrive. And, since nothing else of import is likely to happen until they get here, he decides that he should practice his other new trick.

Fenris is finally getting the hang of walking again.

There is a lot of falling down involved in the process thus far, but he can almost make it half way across the sitting room by himself now, so long as he can grab onto passing furniture. Aili hovers, naturally, offering guiding hands, but not so much that he feels smothered. And for that he is grateful. Even to the point where he generally allows her to kiss him when he bumps into something.

He is two thirds of the way through his third assisted crossing of the blanket, with only four falls, when a large hawk descends from the sky and lands in front of him.

Fenris is so shocked, that he sits down rather suddenly on the blanket with a soft oof.

“Uthvir,” Aili chides, “What have I said about divebombing people?”

“I am sorry,” the hawk apologizes with Uthvir’s voice, “I have not eaten since very early this morning and it took me longer than expected to find you.”

“What about Fenris?” Aili asks, real concern seeping into her tone, “He’s still getting used to the idea that magic isn’t bad, you know. What if you frightened him?”

At this, they both turn their full attention back to him and simultaneously realize that not only does their son not seem to be scared, but he has pulled himself onto his hands and knees and crawled his way over to them.

Fenris stretches out his little hand, waiting. And after a moment of confusion, Uthvir leans their head forward, allowing themselves to patted gently. Tiny fingers moving in very careful strokes over sleek brown feathers.

Fenris does not know what it means. Or if it means anything. But it almost seems like too much to be a coincidence. To be flung through time and space and somehow find himself in the care of yet another hawk.

He does not know what to make of it.

“Hok,” he burbles out after a few minutes, and it is only then that he realizes that at some point he has started crying. Not like his usual outbursts of rage or frustration, but fat silent tears of nothing more than grief. “Hok.”

“What is a hok?” Uthvir asks Aili, sounding vaguely horrified, frozen stiff in uncertainty.

“I don’t know, but change back, quick,” Aili instructs, scooping Fenris up into her arms and cooing at him to distract him while Uthvir shifts back into their normal shape.

“All done,” they inform her a moment later.

“There, see?” Aili asks, turning back around and passing Fenris into their arms, “It’s just Nanae. Nanae isn’t scary, are they?”

Fenris sniffs, in reluctant agreement, feeling a bit foolish as he begins to calm back down.

“I am sorry to have scared you, little one,” Uthvir adds for good measure. Fenris pats their chest as a sign of forgiveness, and a bid to be set down again.

“Crisis averted,” Aili grins at them, handing them a meat pie from out of the basket as Uthvir settles Fenris back onto the blanket.

“But only just,” they sigh. They stare at her for half a minute, the food half way to their mouth as something seems to dawn on them. “You… You are wearing the gift I got you.”

“Oh,” she exclaims, as if only just now remembering herself, her cheeks flushing slightly, “Well. I mean, I know it is really too nice for this sort of thing, but Fenris insisted that we dress for the occasion.”

“Pretty,” Fenris notes, giving Uthvir a rather pointed stare.

“I agree,” Uthvir replies, a large smile spreading out across their face, “You look very nice.”

“I have your excellent taste to thank for that, I’m sure,” Aili laughs, sounding a little embarrassed and twisting her fingers in her hair.

“We should go visit the artist who made it sometime,” they continue, “You would like him, I think. They have a son not too much older than Fenris, and he seemed eager to see how the piece would look on you.”

“You mean, you actually had this commissioned for me?” Aili gapes.

“Well…of course I did,” Uthvir says, sounding uncertain again.

“I’ll…make sure I get you something, too,” she fumbles, “For a housewarming present, I mean. It… It might take me awhile, but-”

“You don’t have to do that,” Uthvir insists.

“Kisses!” Fenris suggests loudly. He had honestly never thought that anyone could possibly top Aveline and her copper marigolds when it came to romantic awkwardness, but dammit all if these two weren’t making his old friend seem suave by comparison. It is almost painful to watch.

Aili leans over and obligingly kisses him on the cheek and he groans.

“No.”

#Fenris #aili lavellan #uthvir #General Lavellan AU #baby fenris au #the sharp one likes your shine!#fic #artwork

85 notes · View notes

mogwitch · 7 years

Note

hi there! i was hoping you would help me with energy work. i'm a baby witchling and i think the spells i've been casting haven't been working because of troubles i'm having with energy. do you have any tips on visualisation, channeling/drawing energy or know where i can look to find this advice? a lot of witch 101 posts seem to take it for granted that you can do this stuff and i'm totally struggling! thanks so much :)

Ok first I’m going to have to apologise to you and anyone else scrolling rn because I just spent like a full hour typing bcos I just do not shut up when I start sometimes.

Second, I’m also going to have to be really annoying and say that even though it’s hard and doesn’t seem to be working, continuing to do it ANYWAY will help strengthen your ability to do it. I know that sounds about as helpful as those posts assuming you can just do it, but I struggled a lot with it in the beginning and in the end stubbornly continuing to just do it anyway slowly built the mental muscles that do these things.

Right, now this ended up pretty long and mostly All About Me sorry but I have no idea what you’ve tried so I’m just trying to give examples and break it down a bit so it’s a little less 101 basics

There’s a few things you could look at for why it’s not working and visualising is difficult for you;

EnvironmentCompanyToolsClothesTimeSeasonMoodThe actual spell/magic typeYourself

So, what kind of environment are you casting your spells in? I have ADHD and autism so as weird as it seems sometimes I often actually visualise better with my eyes open and my body moving rather than sitting still in a quiet room with my eyes closed. But then again sometimes I do need that quiet calm lights off and one candle kind of atmosphere. Totally depends on how my sensory feelings are feeling and how over stimulated they’ve been throughout the day.

I also don’t usually work well with other witches because then it feels like a performance if our styles don’t match. My best friend is also a witch but she needs the big elaborate formal ritual type spells with prewritten chants and all the trimmings sometimes including having other witches casting the spell with her, otherwise she can’t get her mind in that place and her spell doesn’t have the energy it needs. I prefer to keep things simple because otherwise my mind is more focused on the ritual than the actual magic and it stops me being able to visualise and properly cast the spell which means it fails. I don’t speak out loud much, and if I do it’s very quietly. I need to make my spells so that I’m not my own distraction from my goal.

Some people find it easier with tools to help direct and concentrate their energy. I have a lot of tools I like to work with and which one works best depends on what I’m doing. They don’t need to be the tools someone else tells you are right for something. Maybe try using a wand? It doesn’t have to be a specially made wand just something that feels right to you. I have several hundred £ worth of crystals (because I have no self control) but at least ¼ of the rocks I use in my practice are regular plain old rocks. I have a deck of close cards from the anime card captor Sakura and they’re nothing fancy they’re even a little damaged but although I have around 50 other decks (plenty that look more impressive for aiding spells) they remain one of my favourites because they work so well for me. Some people find it easier to do things while holding a crystal. Some people ask spirits or deities for help. . Maybe flowers would work better for you? Or origami? What TYPE of magic are you trying to do? You could be weak at glamours but gifted at spirit work. You could excel at kitchen and garden witchcraft but be absolutely unable to get a single spark out of curses. There could be elements you work better with and some you need to work on your relationship with. Does your energy work better late at night or in the sunlight? Is your mood affected by the weather? My magic is much stronger in autumn and spring, summer is an okay time, but winter is pretty 👎 so I tend to spend the winter months focusing more on other areas of my life because trying to connect with magic is more frustrating than lucrative.

Symbolism is there more to help you focus your energy than to do the actual magic for you, so personal associations are much more important than anything anyone says is ‘official’. If the spell you’re trying to do is bring money and you’re better able to connect a banana to that than whatever the spell is calling for, then use a banana because your own associations will help you to visualise better than theirs. I pretty much always at least tweak any spell of someone else’s that I want to do to fit me better.

Also even though I don’t do big elaborate rituals for my actual spells, I’m much better connected to the energy when I do my pre spell ritual, which is really just cleaning my room (and the rest of the house if I feel like it), taking a cleansing bath to wash myself including my hair, then my hair has to be tied back, pinned up, and covered. Partly it’s a religious thing because I do this for any devotional or prayer time, but doing it for spells too helps because it makes me feel cleaner and able to focus better. I also need a cup of coffee before I start because instead of making me hyper caffeine narrows my brain chatter and makes it easier to focus on one thing.

Grounding and centring is as important in helping your magic as cleansing I think but it doesn’t need to be done through pure visualisation like the tree roots method etc. Grounding for me is usually an hour of light working out, then I cleanse myself and my space physically and spiritually, then I centre by simply preparing my hair (doesn’t matter what clothes I’m wearing I just have to be clean and comfortable) and taking a moment to drink my coffee and breathe and focus on gathering energy to me mostly by feeling rather than visualising.

Maybe instead of trying to cast actual spells (which could be stopping you because it’s causing stress, anxiety, worry that it will fail again, doubts in your abilities, etc) just start afresh and do the simplest exercises with no intent to actually get anything from them apart from building your skill. Like, I’m learning to draw right now and I’m terrible at it and I keep hoping to come across some trick that makes me go “aha!” And suddenly get what I’ve been missing this whole time, but it never happens lol. Instead I tried practicing by drawing the pictures I wanted to draw, but I would get frustrated and mad because they were failures and it put me off. So instead of doing that I spent a week just doing practice exercises a few times a day. Straight lines, parallel lines, wiggly lines, cubes, triangles, circles, dots that I’d try to connect with one quick stroke, angles, etc. Then after that week I had a much better feel for it and I started trying to draw things again and found it much easier (I’m still terrible lol but I know I’ll get better if I keep at it)

You could try out a few different methods of preparing yourself for a spell, but then instead of actually casting one just spend a little time, anything you want 5 minutes or 2 hours doesn’t matter it’s up to you, just practicing visualising.

Once you’re grounded (in any way that makes you feel your physical presence and the physical world around you) cleansed (it gets rid of all the excess energy from you that gathers on you and your space like dust and gets in the way of your spell) and centred (helps you gather fresh energy ready to put to use) Maybe try growing a tree, but not with the intention of it actually doing anything for you. Just picture mud, nothing but mud. Imagine how it looks. Imagine yourself reaching out and touching it. Is it dry? Wet? Does it have stones or bugs in it? Is it clean peat? Are you wearing shoes or can you feel the soil under your shoes? What does it smell like? Is the sun hot on your head? Asking these things and as many others you can think of will help to build it in your mind and the more real it is to your mind the easier it will be for you to visualise your goal there. Visualise digging a hole with your hands. Don’t just imagine that you DID dig a hole with your hands, actually take the time to see your hand reaching out, feel the sun on your skin, feel the dirt between your fingers and under your nails, feel yourself scraping at it until there’s a pile of it by the hole you dug. Actually reach out with your physical world hands if it helps you at all. If you have to do something in the physical world to help yourself picture it in your mind then that’s totally fine and still valid. Go outside and feel some mud between your fingers if you have to. Heck, sniff the grass if it helps. Do whatever makes it easier for you (I mean watch out for neighbours giving you funny looks if you’re gonna do that though lol).

After you’ve finished your hole imagine looking around yourself. On one side there’s a watering can and on the other side there’s a seed. It could look like anything; an acorn, an egg, a jewel, a black cube with flashing lights, whatever, just be sure to spend some time inspecting it first for texture, colour, shape, weight, temperature. I mean lick it if you want and taste it, no one is looking in your mind. Then plant it in the hole and water it. Hear the water pouring into the earth. See the soil change colour and texture. Then you can sit back in the soil and watch your tree grow. Maybe it happens straight away, or maybe the sun and the moon pass over you a few times while you wait, but you’ll see it starting to sprout through the soil. When it grows, is it fast? Can you hear the wood creaking and groaning and it’s branches extend and split off into smaller branches? Is it even made of wood? What colour is it? What about its leaves? What colour? Shape? Texture? Size? How many? Any flowers? Maybe it looks like a regular tree you’d find in your yard, or maybe its pink and glitters and made of glass with golding flowers that glow like sunbursts. Or does it grow so slowly that you have to stand up and help it, physically pulling the branches to stretch it out and untwisting the little buds to open the flowers?

By this point you’ll have spent enough time visualising with all your senses (because seeing is absolutely not the only important one in visualisation) that you’ve gotten your mind into a good state for magic, but without the pressure of actually doing any spells that you could stress yourself with, because the goal wasn’t to grow the tree so that it could do something for you, you achieved your goal already by growing the tree. That’s it. The end. You achieved something!

You don’t have to grow a tree obviously, you can do anything you want, but doing a few exercises like this where the goal is the visualisation itself, rather than visualising to achieve something else, will help make sharpen your ability to do it. Maybe try one small exercise a day for a week and then try a spell? If you like growing a tree you could just do that again. Start your meditation several feet away from the first tree and start an orchard or a tiny forest. If you can maybe it’ll help to actually draw the tree so you have something to look at to help you visualise it.

You could build a house. You could start in a maze and find your way to the middle. You could explore an enchanted forest. Do a pathworking with a tarot or oracle card or even a painting or poster or a video game or ANYTHING. Do whatever makes your imagination go !!!!! (but if you’re struggling with visualising I’d just advise you start off with something simple so you don’t overwhelm yourself).

The astral is somewhere you can only get to in your mind, because it’s not on our physical plane, and you should familiarise yourself with this before immediately trying to work magic in it.

If I use a sigil I have my own methods of making them because a lot of the time other people’s don’t work nearly as well for me as my own do, and I have my methods of using them depending on what they’re for. Drawing it on paper and burning it has never really worked for me except for specific things, but drawing it on myself works better. Sometimes I don’t make a physical 'magical copy’ of a sigil at all. I keep my sigils in a book that I have magically protected from BEING magical (because there’s so many different sigils for different things in there and I don’t want them mixing or accidentally casting) and there are some that I name. Once they’re named and memorised I can use them when I need them by calling them and creating them in the astral, but this took a lot of practice and failures before I was able to confidently do it because visualising is hard lol especially when I’m out and there’s things going on around me and I can’t do any cleansing or put my hair up if I don’t have a tie or any of the other fussy little things I’d like to do before doing any magic, then I have to be aware of my physical body and astral body at the same time. Which makes it sound more complicated than it actually is, but until you get the hang of something it DOES seem complicated. I’ve been doing magic since as far back as I can remember and decided I was a witch when I was 6 when I didn’t even know other people were witches and my parents thought it was a cute funny game I played because I lived with my head in the clouds and “away with the faeries” (if only they knew, lmao) but there’s still plenty for me to learn and ways for me to grow because witchcraft is an ever evolving PRACTICE. You’ll never be finished with training so it’s good to embrace that the training part is the craft, and not something that’s training you to be ready for being an expert at it. We’re all still learning all the time so don’t feel like you need to reach some kind of final level before you can consider things a success. Sometimes they don’t work the way you want them to, instead of thinking “my spell failed” you have to say “that’s fine, you didn’t do what I wanted yet but you will, you will work” and then you can even cast it again to give it a boost. If you refuse to let the energy for a spell fizzle into nothing, then the spell hasn’t failed yet. If it tires you out, find a way to borrow energy or tie the spell to something (charms, enchantments, spell bottles, poppers, witch ladders, etc) so that while you rest between sessions working on it the spell it held together and not allowed to dissipate.

Another note before I FINALLY shut the hell up (sorry guys, I know I go on) make sure the spells you are trying to do aren’t above your skill level and are realistically achievable. Don’t jump in with a spell to make yourself 10lb lighter overnight or to change your natural hair colour (both of which are unrealistic) or to win the lottery jackpot which would take more energy to magically pull off than one person or even a hundred people possess even if you did buy a bunch of tickets, there is way too much collective energy pushing and pulling at that already for a spell to be more than a flyweight nudge against a mountain. Instead you could do a spell for financial prosperity and maybe in the end all you get is for your money to NOT drop when it might have (in which case you might not know about it working) or slightly increase the odds in your favour of winning a smaller bet, or maybe you’ll find a few coins down the couch ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ you have to start real small and work your way up. Also I find that taking yourself/a spell/witchcraft too seriously can hinder someone too. Have fun with it and try not to expect too much from yourself. There’s always a chance that a spell you cast just took a while to manifest and by negatively thinking “it didn’t work” you’re increasing the chances of basically cancelling it

If that didn’t answer what you needed (though that probably gave you more answers than you even WANTED - again, sorry - and it’s unorganised af cos I’ve had a busy day so I’m feeling scatterbrained and hyper) or you have any more questions please feel free to ask!

#asks #long post #anons

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